96. Fresh Air (Redux)

  Whether or not her boots were made for the job, Serac had to climb, and climb fast.

  The Tomasens led the charge, ice-bridging the cave’s natural platforms. Renate pattered along with ease on her bare feet. Even Zacko adapted to the new pace in no time.

  All that to say Serac was the straggler. Whether inexperience, frailty, or some natural limitation of Rakshasa physiology, something was holding her back. She fell farther and farther behind, even as her fellow Wayfarers sped on ahead.

  At some point, she could hear the rush of water, with or without the ability to read the ripples. The sound brought with it the fresh and terrifying memories of her near-drowning episodes. The fear only made her trip and stumble, slowing her even more.

  Just when her panic was about to reach a breaking point, the pink figure of Renate descended to her side. The Yaksha had doubled back despite her considerable lead, whereupon she scooped Serac up onto DREDGER’s blade, without a word of warning or instruction. It happened so suddenly Serac had no chance to assume her hang-on-for-dear-life position. Instead, she ended up cross-legged atop the giant shovel, looking for all the world like she was about to meditate.

  Even with the extra load, Renate moved up the icy slopes faster than Serac could’ve on her own. All the while, the frog woman kept the point of DREDGER remarkably stable, making her passenger feel as though she sat on solid ground.

  While panic receded, embarrassment took its place. After everything Renate had done for her, Serac couldn’t believe she still needed more help. What happened to her can-do attitude? Her Rakshasa resiliency? If she made it back to the surface in one piece, she’d have to have a long look at herself in the mirror. Clearly, her Path had to be about more than just shooting problems in the face.

  But she was also pragmatic enough to accept the free ride when she needed one. It gave her a chance, not only to reflect on her own shortcomings and areas for improvement, but also to wonder aloud, “Do you think this flooding has anything to do with us getting rid of Mulaharta?”

  “Almost definitely,” Renate replied swiftly, not a breath out of place. “Typically speaking, the Realmtree contains an inner reservoir of water, in constant network with the Sanzu and its many branches upon the surface. The hollowed-out appearance of this cave led me to believe that reservoir had long dried up. But possibly, it’d only been pushed down by Mulaharta’s presence and magic. With Mulaharta gone, the water is rushing to reclaim the empty space—and we know there’s plenty of that.”

  “If the water is just refilling itself… shouldn’t it eventually top off? Assuming there’s more cave than there’s water?”

  “Theoretically, yes. But it’s impossible for us to know just how much water there is. Nor can we be certain we’d find our way out of this cave before the water could reach us.”

  Serac fell silent, shuddering at the thought. Best let her scooper-upper concentrate more on climbing than catering to a hell bumpkin’s inquiring mind.

  The Wayfarers climbed and climbed, slowing only to keep themselves Stamina-replete. But this latest race only served to show just how far and deep into the Roots they’d spelunked in the first place. The water caught up to them before they could find the exit. The Tomasens’ bridge-building, Zacko’s parkouring, and Renate’s Serac-carrying all proved to be for naught, as their efforts were drowned out by a sheer force of nature.

  Serac had thought herself ready, having heard then seen the water rise and lap at the Wayfarers’ feet. But no amount of mental preparation could overcome the terror she now associated with the frigid touch and immense pressure of a watery prison.

  [Wayfarer Status Effect: HYPOXIA]

  Panic kicked back into full gear. But this time, before Serac could devolve into a flailing kicking mess, a pink, webbed hand grabbed her firmly by the wrist.

  Renate had reslung DREDGER onto her back. In her free hand, she held the creamy-orange [Pearl of Immersion], which she proceeded to push into Serac’s face.

  The Rakshasa understood the assignment, but that didn’t stop her shaking in terror as she forced in more liquid inside her liquid prison. As she emptied the Pearl, however, a sense of calm took over. She now had the presence of mind to note the light-green bar of her [Oxygen] gauge, which halted its rapid descent as soon as Serac finished her medicine.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  On paper, [Immersion]’s passive effect was to buff a Wayfarer’s status mitigation. In reality, and especially for a non-swimmer like Serac, it did much more than that. The hourglass slowed to a crawl, and the simple knowledge that she had more time afforded her the mental clarity to understand what was required of her.

  In this case, ironically enough, it was to rely on the kindness of others. Instead of trying and failing to swim, Serac kept herself still, even as Renate left her side. She began to sink, as her dense-boned Rakshasa body was wont to do. But not for long, as the massive figure of Lars Tomasen swept in to grab her by the waist.

  Secure in the arm of a much stronger swimmer, Serac allowed herself to relax and reassess. She opened her eyes against the frigid water, and was rewarded for her courage with a surprisingly clear view of her surroundings. The water was murky and full of debris, but fascinatingly, its presence had also caused the Realm-cave’s walls to glow a brighter Zealous green.

  The two outrealmers were each paired off with a local and carried up the flooded cave. Serac with Lars and Zacko with Hans. Meanwhile, the pink figure of Renate darted from Wayfarer to Wayfarer, feeding each of them a [Pearl of Immersion].

  That’s already four doses of [Immersion] in Renate’s latest OYSTER loadout. Serac did the math calmly. Like she knew or at least suspected we’d need it again. I wonder if she has a fifth one for herself?

  The answer, as it turned out, was no. The frog woman never stopped to give herself a taste of her own medicine, even as she charged ahead of the pack with smooth, powerful kicks of her webbed feet.

  This was Serac’s first time seeing Renate swim, and she was once again taken by the woman’s competence and elegance. Finless or no, Renate became one with the water, her graceful movements blending seamlessly with the turbulence all around her.

  The Yakshas now swam in a spiral pattern, hugging the cave walls as they searched for an exit. As for Serac, she accepted her limitations and gave into the process, only occasionally checking on her [Oxygen] gauge with an almost detached sort of curiosity. She was oddly confident in her Yaksha friends’ ability to pull them through this mess, just as she’d been about Renate plying her expertise on a [Snap-frozen] Zacko. There would be time yet for Serac to build on her own competence and self-reliance, but for now, she was happy to accept a free ride when she needed one.

  Besides, the Yakshas’ willingness to help her at all was proof enough of her value in their estimation. Pay your dues and show your worth. No one in this Realm eats for free. Perhaps not quite what Palmr Jorgensen had in mind when he’d said those words… but he couldn’t have dreamed of the strange adventure the Wayfarers ended up on, nor the many different ways each of them showed their worth along way.

  Eventually, Renate stopped the search, having read an open channel of ripples along the walls. She turned around and gestured toward the Tomasen twins with both palms out. The universal signal for: back off.

  [Auxiliary Technique: ELEMENTAL SURGE]

  The swing of a giant shovel. A vortex of water, mud, and tree bark. The edges of the open channel collapsed, until it widened enough for even big sturgeon boys to pass through.

  Fresh air had never tasted sweeter—not even when Serac had climbed out of a prison in hell.

  The Wayfarers found themselves in the middle of a wide river, filled to the banks and rushing at speed. Somewhere in Stamgard, then? Or could it be…?

  Serac forced herself to remain patient for a while longer, as Lars cut across the width of the river. Once she was ashore, however, relief washed over her in an instant, so much so she nearly tear up with its sheer intensity. It seemed she’d been a lot more nervous than she’d let on (even to herself). Released from Lars’s hold, she turned onto her back and spread herself wide, relishing the contact with solid ground and outside air.

  Once she’d had her fill of coming back up to earth, she sat up, hoping to share her joy with her newest friends. She turned an ear-to-ear smile first onto the twins, who both knelt panting in a rare show of exhaustion. Then to Zacko, who’d already started wringing out his soaking wet hair (the man sure had his priorities straight!). And finally to—

  “Wait, where’s Renate?”

  Both sturgeons bounced to their feet at once, hands instinctively reaching for their OARs. They stood at the edge of the riverbank and scanned up- and downstream, scales aflutter all the while. Then, as if in unspoken agreement, Hans dove back into the water while his brother continued his ‘read’ on land.

  A tense silence followed. Serac waited anxiously for one of the twins to say something. Or for Renate herself to jump out of the water, or perhaps poke her head out from the rocks behind them.

  In the end, Hans re-emerged from the water by his lonesome. He calmly glided over and lifted himself ashore, apparently in no hurry to share his findings.

  “Anything?” Lars asked, wearing a cold glare to hide his own agitation. His brother shook his head.

  At first, Serac couldn’t quite process what it all meant. Did they somehow get separated from Renate? Had the frog woman been caught in a wicked current that had carried her away? Or worse yet, was she still stuck inside the Realm-cave by herself? Did she need rescuing?

  But then a loud ‘crack!’ beside her made her jump, at the same time bringing her back down to earth and reality. The noise had issued from Lars Tomasen, having slammed his OAR into the ground.

  “Finless is gone,” he said, gentle voice brought low by anger and self-reproach. “Ran away, as she always does. We were so close. We had her, then we let our guard down. Let her slip away and back into shadows.”

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