❝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...
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I was, quite simply, drowning.
All drama and hyperbole aside; I was slowly being asphyxiated by the River of Zonn. The river had swept me away, slamming the air out of my lungs with a wall of water and squeezing my heart until I thought it would burst.
With no idea how to swim, no sense of direction as the water swirled around me, and no way to move in the fast-moving currents, my frantic search for open air was futile. I was screaming. No one could hear it.
A sharp pain bloomed in my hand as something enclosed upon it.
I was tugged sideways. My arm felt stretched to its limit, my throat burned and my head was dizzy. Then I was up, cool air was around me, and my gasp was quickly followed by a choking cough. Water lapped at my mouth. I went under.
Something pulled me up again, and I sucked in as much air as I could before I was pushed beneath the surface for a third time.
When I was tugged upwards the next time, I had enough wits about me to realise who clasped my hand. Shirka, as gently as she could, was holding my hand in her mouth and attempting to pull me to safety.
I grabbed onto her, clutching her thick skin and praying she had the strength to support us both. My kicking seemed to help, but it felt awkward, and I still felt like my airway was being invaded by liquid. I could feel almost nothing besides Shirka's teeth, the river's strength, and the heaviness of the boots attached to my feet. My attempts at kicking them off had been in vain; they were too long, too tightly belted.
There was a loud roar that penetrated the rush of the river and my waterlogged ears.
I may have very litte experience with rivers, but I was very sure there was only supposed to be one current running one way. Now, however, I was tossed back and fro. Invisible hands tugged at my clothes and limbs, pulling me in opposite directions.
The water surged.
It was a sudden flood, spilling over the riverbank. I struggled to stay above it, eyes closed in order to protect my sight. Shirka was directing us, clamping on painfully in order to hang onto me. Then we were on grass.
Shirka let go of me.
I rolled onto my hands and knees, coughing up the water clinging to my throat. It kept coming, and my ribs and my stomach ached when I pushed myself upright.
Pushing the sodden, tangled mess of hair out of my face, I looked up and into large, glowing eyes of bronze. The pupils were nonexistent, the nose was covered in green-tinged scales, and two nostrils exhaled a mist of warm water.
My body was frozen with fright.
Shirka, however, growled. She was crouched, her tail flick the only movement
The serpent swung its gigantic head towards the tiger, allowing me to see its serpentine body. It was large, and I wondered how it was able to be contained in the river. Fangs protruded from its mouth, both upwards and downwards, and the sudden image of my arm clamped between them finally sent me stumbling backwards.
