Dagger
We walk until we reach a place where the jungle ends and we’re surrounded by more water. There are large rocks jutting from the surface every few feet. On the other side of this water, I can see more trees, more jungle, but the water stretches from left to right as far as I can see.
“How do we get across?” I ask Ezra.
“Those,” he points to the rocks. “We’ll climb. Don’t worry,” he adds when he notices my terrified face. “It’s no problem, sweetheart. I’ve done this a million times.”
“What are you hunting, anyway? Can’t you just get one of the wild animals we heard last night?”
“I’m looking for fereers. While their nests can be in any environment, they’re notoriously hard to find. Across this water is the only known area for fereers to live and raise their young. We’re guaranteed to find some here.”
“You sound like a salesman,” I groan, but I take his hand and allow myself to be led to the water’s edge. I peer down. Like the lake we swam in earlier, this water is clear. It’s like looking through a piece of glass.
Unlike the lake, however, this water is very deep and houses all sorts of monsters and creatures. I can see them beneath the surface, swimming there, and it frightens me.
“Do those bite?” I ask, pointing at one particularly long, purple fish-thing.
“Of course they bite. Don’t fall in the water. They’ll eat you before I can get to you.”
“I’ll do my best,” I whisper, but I’m not so sure this is a good idea.
It kind of seems like a terrible idea.
Ezra produces a sort of harness thing from his bag and puts it on me. He puts one on himself, too, and then he attaches a rope that will hold us together.
“But if I fall into the water, won’t I drag you down, too?” I ask.
“No, but even if you did, there are worse ways to die than by the side of a beautiful woman.” I’m not sure what to say to that. Ezra always knows exactly what to say to make me feel beautiful, sweet. He always knows exactly what to say to make me feel perfect.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt as accepted as I do when I’m with him, and I don’t want the feeling to end. I never want this to end. I don’t want my friendship, my romance, my whatever-it-is with Ezra to end.
So I take a deep breath and I follow him to the first rock.
“I’ll go first,” he says. “Look,” he points to the edge of the rock, close to the surface of the water. “There’s a small ledge on each rock and there are places up high to grip. Move slowly, okay? Don’t rush. Just hold on and move carefully. Watch your feet. You won’t be able to put your entire foot on the ledge, but that’s all right.”
“I think I can do this,” I say, looking at the rock. It’s huge, but if Ezra says it’s going to be okay, then I trust him. I know he won’t do anything to hurt me or risk my life.
“Of course you can,” he kisses me. “You’ve got this, baby.”
Ezra goes first. Despite his huge size, his enormous stature, he makes standing on the ledge of the rock look easy. He points to the holes up high where he grips the rock with his hand. Then he moves over a little.
There’s plenty of slack on the rope, but it’s time for me to join him. I try not to think about what’s going to happen if I fall into the water, and I reach for the first rock. I can do this. I have to do this.
“That’s it,” he says, looking over at me. “Nice and easy.”
Nice and easy.
I remember learning to ride a bicycle and my father saying those same words to me.
“Nice and easy, darling,” he said. “You’ve got this.”
I remember my first day at Martian Modern Dance class.
“Nice and easy,” Dad told me. “You can do this.”
I remember the first time I had to give a speech.
“Nice and easy. It’s all you.”
Now, it’s not my father saying those words to me. It’s Ezra, but the feeling is the same. I feel like he believes in me, so I can do this. I feel like he trusts me to handle it, so I can. I feel like no matter what happens, he’s with me, so everything is going to be okay.
I think everything is going to be all right.
My foot finds the ledge and I pull myself onto it. I grab onto the upper-part of the rock and cling to it as my other foot comes up. Now I’m not on land at all. I’m on the rock, and if I look down, I can see into the water.
It goes down, down, down. It goes so far that I imagine reaching the bottom must not even be possible. You probably die before you reach the bottom. You probably get eaten by one of the weird fish swimming around down there.
They look hungry and I don’t like that.
“Come on,” Ezra says. “Eyes up, buttercup.”
He’s scooting along and I join him in the process. Slowly, we move our feet and hands as we inch along the rock. After a few minutes, Ezra lets me know he’s going to jump to the next rock. It’s more of a large step for him than a jump. For me, it’ll definitely be a jump.
When it’s my turn, I eye the space between the rocks warily.
“Don’t look down,” Ezra reminds me. The ledge at the edge of the rock is thicker and wider than it was before, so I have space to stand and turn my body for the jump. I take a deep breath and count to five. Then I just do it. I take the leap. I go.
My feet hit the ledge and my hands scramble to find something to cling on, but there’s nothing. I start to slip, to fall, but then I feel Ezra’s hands wrap around my waist and pull me up.
“There you go,” he says. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” I repeat, as if I don’t quite believe it, and to be honest, I don’t. “But that was close.”
“You’re okay,” he says once more. Then we keep moving. We repeat the process of carefully walking along the huge boulders, jumping to the next, and then walking again. We do this over and over and over. By the time we’re almost across the water, I’m hungry, sweaty, and completely out of breath.
And then we reach the shore.
We land on the beach and I instantly want to sit down, but Ezra guides me toward the trees.
“Back into the jungle for us,” he says. He looks around warily. “We don’t want to be out here for too long.”
“Why not?” I ask, wondering what kind of predator is lurking, waiting for beach-goers. He just shakes his head, though, and leads me back into the jungle, back to our quest. My legs hurt and I’m tired, but I don’t complain as we get back into the shade and keep moving. There’s something comfortable about this area, about moving through this place with Ezra, but once we’re beneath the protection of the trees, he tells me what he’s worried about.
“Someone was watching us,” he says.
“Someone?”
Stremon.
It had to be.
He had to have found me.
That’s it.
I’m doomed.
“Or something,” he says carefully. “I don’t like it. I caught movement several times and this place is always desolate. Aside from the fish,” he adds.
I shiver when he says that. I could see the fish circling closer and closer to the surface of the water as we walked. They should have been low, moving down into the darkness and depths of the water, but they didn’t. They were hungry, and that was just further motivation not to fall in.
“Maybe they’re hunting the same thing you are,” I suggest helpfully.
“Fereers?” He shakes his head. “Not likely. Most people don’t waste their time on fereers.”
“Why not? What’s so special about them?”
“They’re long and skinny, but tall, and they’re tricky to find. Fereers are excellent at blending in with their surroundings. They nest in little groups and if you can find a nest, you can usually catch at least half a dozen of them.”
“That sounds a little mean,” I point out.
“Would it make you feel better if I tell you they’re dangerous?” He asks. “Their bite holds a potent poison that can kill you if you don’t get medical attention right away.”
“That does make me feel a little better,” I say, but it shouldn’t. I should feel upset that Ezra hunts anything, least of all helpless creatures, but it seems that fereers aren’t quite so helpless after all.
“It’s unusual enough that I’ve come after them,” he says. “I usually wouldn’t bother. It’s annoying, time-consuming, and tedious. There’s no chance another person is hunting fereers.”
“Are you sure it was a person?” I lower my voice and look around. “Could it have been an animal?”
“With the equipment this thing had? Not likely.” Ezra looks at me. “I know what you’re thinking. You think it’s the man. You think he hunted you.”
“I do think that,” I agree. There’s no need to lie. There’s no need to hide this from Ezra.
“If he has come for you, I will protect you.”
“That’s very nice, but he’s good at what he does. He’s not going to sit idly by and let you just take him down.”
“Correct,” a voice says from the trees above us, and we both look up just in time to see a large net dropping down. Quickly, almost instantly, I fall to the ground and roll away into some bushes, but Ezra’s pack slows him down and the net catches him. Helplessly, I watch as Stremon’s net closes around him, capturing him.
He’s trapped and it’s all my fault.