The Deepcombers

Chapter Forty Nine

Saeya made more fog in her hands and the four young masters swim-walked in the deepest part of the channel. Their heads bobbed and they could see nothing of their surroundings as their line-of-sight was now obscured by the bushy riverbanks. They floated in the current and listened to the fog-shrouded world above like frightened muskrats, ready to dive at the first sign of trouble.

Clop, clop, clop. Animal hooves played percussion on the planks of the bridge ahead. Mounted forms took faint shape in the mist. There were wildkin goat riders on the overpass.

One skirmisher pointed down at the brook and shouted an alert. They'd spotted something ahead in the water. The young masters slowed their swim as more wildkin approached from the fields. More cries were heard and the mounted force split-up out to comb the tall grass and shrubs that lined both sides of the stream.

Lon felt Val's hand on his back. It was a signal to submerge and together they disappeared under the surface. They'd hold an underwater conference.

Saeya and Melcart sank to the bottom. Two smilkripples told him they'd both made air pockets. Lon wanted to contribute but it hurt his head to even check his empty smulcrum. His mind-mantle throbbed, and he knew from experience that he was bone dry and he'd be quite useless until after he'd eaten something and slept for six hours. He slowly dropped down into the waiting air-sphere. Val had burned off her tainted smilk earlier that morning and so she was likely also running thin. Lon followed her example and inhaled the breathable air the others had made for them.

Smilkfog hid their position but it would slowly dissipate without Saeya's attention. All the same, Lon reckoned they'd be safe hidden below the surface. The waterway was only seven feet deep yet the creek was rather wide and still carried lots of sand. The goat riders loomed large on both banks but they weren't staring straight down into the channel.

"We could rise-up and strike 'em down." Melcart proposed once they'd all settled into the sphere. "Scatter 'em"

"That would bring the shafeigors..." Saeya said. Her back was likely still sore from yesterday.

"They can't see us," Valari studied the dark shapes. She always seemed to know when she was being watched.

"We'll just lie low..." Saeya said.

"If we run up the road. They'll open the gates for us." Mel continued outlining the old plan as if the sudden appearance of the wildkin had not occurred.

"No. They won't." Saeya dashed his hope. "We're on our own til they sort it out."

"Not even the small door?" Lon asked. She shook her head no.

"We have to get back inside." Valari said.

"You could use your many-sleep?" Melcart questioned Lon with a hopeful look.

"I'm empty," the white-haired lad massaged his cranium. "I can barely think straight."

Saeya bit her bottom lip as she studied him.

"Chase Kluth," Mel swore. "What a disaster. We're so unprepared. Look how we're dressed." He was the best outfitted for the occasion. Only Lon was insufficiently garbed. "Chase..."

"Quit saying that! Both of you." Saeya spoke in firm whispers, "Atar says times like this is when Kluth sees whose fire burns brightest".

"Oh really? Is that what he says?" The rogue said mockingly. "I just pray I can keep my fire lit."

"Pray then." Saeya retorted, "Don't cuss. You neither." She glared at them both.

"Oh, alright," Lon gulped. Message received. He vowed to cease his profane habit.