Nightpool by Murphy Shirley Rousseau

Author:Murphy, Shirley Rousseau
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, animals, fantasy, young adult, dragons
Publisher: Ad Stellae Books

Chapter 11

“Hah,” said Charkky, “it’s barely light. I’ll just nip down for a flounder, on our way.”

“You keep pushing the raft,” said Mikk. “I’ll get the flounder.” He dove so suddenly he seemed to disappear, and was back in no time with a fine silvery flat fish with both its eyes on one side of its head. He bit it in half and gave the tail half to Charkky; then both otters swam along pushing the raft, each holding the great piece of fish in his mouth, chewing away. Teb watched them for a moment, then turned his attention to the gray heaving sea and the first hint of sunrise in the east where the sea met the sky. He had breakfasted on cattail root and a plant that Mitta called water lettuce, and he thought with longing of cooked food, porridge and mutton and berry pies and ham. Though he could not imagine the food in any setting, not a room, or even catch the vision of a cookfire. He knew what a flint striker would look like, though, and he hoped there would be a flint somewhere on the battleground. He had turned to watching the high cliff that marked the edge of the mainland when the raft gained speed suddenly, and four more otters popped up with dripping whiskers to stare at him as they pushed. Jukka and Hokki and Litta, three bright young females, and Kkelpin, a black scar on his shoulder showing beneath the foaming water. The raft moved so fast now Teb felt he was almost flying, and a song made itself in his head as they sped along, about the six otters and the sea and the tall black cliffs and the gulls.

“What are you grinning about?” Charkky said, poking his head up over the edge of the raft. “What are you thinking, Tebriel?”

“That I’m going as fast as king of the ocean now, and you’re six fine steeds pulling me.”

He got a face full of water for that, and he managed to push Charkky under, but only because Charkky let him. By midmorning the sun had burned the clouds away and the day was hot, and Teb watched the swimming otters with envy, and let his feet trail over, until he realized it made a drag on the raft.

“Come in,” shouted Charkky, popping up in a distant wave. They were taking turns now, pushing.

“Hah,” said Mikk, leaping up onto the raft. “Have a swim, Tebriel.”

“I don’t know if I can swim. I don’t remember . . .”

“We’ll help you. It’s simple.”

“Simple for you, maybe.” He was so hot and itchy, and the water was so cool. He knelt, watching the swells and wondering if he would sink. But how could he sink with six otters crowded around ready to pull him out? If he couldn’t swim, though, he would look like a fool.

But then at last he could stand it no longer, and he slipped in and let the cool water take him, easy, buoying him—and he was floating.

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