Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

16. Chapter 16

I should have known better . I cursed myself and jumped after the gallis. In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have imagined her not being able to make the short jump onto the leaf. A jump a blindfolded three-year-old youngling could have made.

Still, Jenna missed, giving me no choice but to go after her.

The current was strong, and Jenna’s cursed backpacks added weight. I didn’t dare lose them, though. I knew there were things in there she needed, like the resting place for her eyeskins.

A shock of silver hair was momentarily illuminated by a lightning bolt. She was far to the right of me, fighting bravely against the current to make it to one of the trees. That gallis might not have a lick of sense when it came to safety, but she was valiant in her efforts and resourceful once she found herself in a bad spot.

Something hit me in the side, a branch or a dead animal. I didn’t know what, but it sent me farther to the left, off course from her. Cursing, I redoubled my efforts to catch up and noticed that she made it to one of the trees, hugging it now while sputtering water and trying to get up on it.

The current was too strong, and I overshot her, hearing her call my name.

“Stay where you are,” I yelled, looking back. Predictably, she didn’t listen and let go of the narran tree, allowing the current to sweep her toward me.

By Daggahr’s balls, I cursed, kicking against a log rushing by to catapult me farther right. I reached out for a narran tree. The current was so strong that it nearly popped my arm out of my socket when I grabbed the tree; almost at the same moment, Jenna floated by. I grabbed her by the backpack, praying it was attached to her strong enough, and pulled with my free hand.

Sputtering, she looked up at me when I pushed her against the tree. The smile spreading over her face was worth all the trouble she caused. It made me want to crush her against my chest and never let her go again. The moment I felt her safe in my arms, a surge of emotions I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in years overwhelmed me—relief so profound it nearly brought me to my knees, pride that swelled in my chest like a long-lost companion, and a joy so pure it almost scared me. It was as if, in that instant, the weight of my grief lifted just enough for me to remember what it felt like to care for someone again, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself.

We weren’t fully safe yet. I mimed to go up the tree, but her eyes widened as she looked over my shoulder. The current was pushing the massive body of a dead gronk at us. Jenna squirmed, but I heaved her up the tree out of the gronk’s path.

The massive animal hit my side, and one of its horns slit my flank, but I had been trained to withstand pain and keep a clear head. Everything would have been fine had the narran tree not begun to bend. The water must have been washing the roots free of dirt. It was a young tree; its roots weren’t as deeply anchored yet as those of the elders.

“Keep a hold of the narran tree,” I yelled at Jenna.

She probably didn’t understand, but her instincts were sharp as she kept her balance on top of the tree as it turned and lowered more. She hugged and straddled it all at once while I kept a hold of it, waiting for it to hit the water.

At least Jenna would be safer on top of the tree as the current would take us farther away from the camp and where my warriors still hopefully clung to their leaves. Torn between my responsibility for them and Jenna, I never let go of the tree. My warriors would be safe by themselves. Jenna would probably be crushed to death by a narran leave or step right off a canyon. She needed me.

As the tree bent farther down, I noticed my mind becoming fuzzy. The water was too dirty to see my injured side, but the gronk must have left a deep gash, making me lose too much blood too fast.

With the last of my conscious mind, I clung to the tree as its roots finally gave out, and the current began to take us downstream.