❝Shae Burrower, failed author and city girl, from Lavender Lane, at your service.❞
⎯⎯⎯
The story contained within these pages is not about me.
You all know of whom I write. If not by word of mouth or by the speculation of the Chileez Times, then by...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I sat on a rock, surrounded by tumultuous water the colour of horse dung, I appreciated the aqueducts of Chileez like I'd never done before.
I longed for the cobbled streets, the lovely bridge that spanned the Hanochk Moat and its hanging lanterns and the elegant benches where I'd sat with my notebooks. Not like this piece of hard rock, so callous and slippery beneath my hands.
In my defence, it was not my fault I was stranded in the middle of the river by myself. Shae Burrower, as you know by now, had never climbed a tree— much less scaled one and swung to another via a rough, thick rope that didn't fit in my hands.
Note: Lennon T. James may think carefully but his decisions don't always cater to the weaknesses of others.
Not that this situation was as a result of my weaknesses. I would call it inexperience. Lyong would disagree, if his own delicate hands had not sent him sprawling on the opposite bank.
The river, with its lack of a bridge and its fast-moving water, was caged in by a steep bank on either side. Trees clung to rock and earth, hanging their branches over the water and dipping their roots beneath the river bed.
It was a sturdy, moss-covered, plant-bearing tree that Lennon T. James scaled.
"We will cross through here," he'd called down, as if the tree was a gateway and the branches a road. He disappeared quickly through the branches, climbing far above the forest floor.
Looking towards the river, I noticed there was a distinct gap between the arms of the trees on either side of the river.
"Um..." Gino Morton came to stand next to me, head tipped back to watch the leaves rustling and branches swaying. One of his eyes blinked and his shoulder tipped up to accommodate the twitch. "I haven't climbed a tree since I was a little boy."
"I can confidently say I have never climbed a tree." I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, flinching as I felt the dirt and sweat covering them. My heart ached for a hot bath.
Mitch leaned her elbow against my shoulder, a grin toying at the corners of her mouth. "This is an easy climb. I'm more concerned about the crossing."
"Why don't we swim?"
At this, all of us turned our attention away from the hidden explorer and towards Ella Siwatski.
Her braid was coming undone, her hands on her hips as she unconsciously twirled her skirts about her. They were untorn but muddied, and yet, I was still envious of them. My trousers clung to my legs as if they would never let go.
I hesitated, wondering how I could say this kindly, and then allowed the words to fall out of my mouth. "Can you swim, Ella?"
"Of course. There was a river near the farm my father managed." Her blue eyes found mine. "Can you swim?"
