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And she looks…happy. Renewed. Like she has a purpose, even if it’s just to be the servant of a trio of creepy spider gods. So, good for her, I guess. I certainly can’t judge.
Kerren loads our supplies onto the cobweb raft (I recognize the material now after being surrounded by it for weeks) and poles across while the woales wade on through, gliding through the water with light bounces as their feet land and hit the shallow bottom. The lake is wide, but it’s not deep in the slightest, and if I thought it was dead before, it’s a tomb now.
I worry a little, though, thinking of Vitar. “It’s safe,” Markos reassures me from the woale ahead of mine, his grip on the harness as we swim-bounce-plow through the water. “Lord Aron killed everything in a single breath when we arrived and it’s been safe to cross ever since.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” I clutch at my woale’s harness as it dips lower in the water, surging forward after it pushes off the bottom. It even swims like a damn hippo. I’m a little nervous to be riding by myself, but with five woales and five riders, it doesn’t make sense to double up. I miss being able to hold onto Aron, though. He’s decided it’s safest if I ride in the middle, so he pulls up the rear while Markos and Kerren ride ahead.
Once we cross the lake, we change out of our wet, cold clothing, and remount again. I wrap my cloak tightly around my body and give the tower one last, final look before it disappears as we head into the mountains.
We’re heading to Yshrem. To our destiny.
I’ve never been so damn scared in my life.