“What are you muttering about?”
“Nothing. By the goddess, the pools are especially cold today.”
It’s a poor attempt at changing the subject, but I let it slide. It was probably only a reference to Soren’s and my “inevitable” romance. I stifle an eye roll. Iric can be so deluded at times.
“Well, what’s the first step to learning how to swim?” Iric asks.
I think for a moment. I’ve never actually taught anyone how to swim. It’s something I learned at my family’s private bathing pools.
“Place your hands on one of the sturdy rocks lining the edge of the pool.”
He listens.
“Now I want you to hold yourself flat at the top of the water on your stomach. Kick with your feet and see how you do keeping your body afloat.”
I realize too late that I didn’t think that through very well. With the first kick, Iric drenches me, sending water into my eyes and hair.
I hear a snort and turn around. Soren’s looked up from his ax, but he quickly turns his gaze back to the weapon.
I change positions, moving toward the rock Iric is gripping so I’m not in the direct line of spray.
“Okay, stop,” I say.
Iric halts. “How did I do?”
“Well, there’s significantly less water in the pool now.”
“You said to kick. I kicked.”
“You’re like a rock splashing repeatedly into the pool.”
“Well, I stayed afloat, didn’t I?”
“Except for the part where you let one of your feet touch the bottom. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
Iric has the decency to look guilty. “My head was about to go under.”
“It’s all right if your head goes under. You can hold your breath, can’t you?”
“I can, but I don’t like to. I can barely stand it when bathing.”
“Watch,” I tell him. I perform the same move I told him to do, only I let my feet kick gently at the water, under the water, so minimal splashing results. “Like that. Gently. Your body will float. Take a big gulp of air, and let it out slowly as you kick. I want you to release your air with your head under the water and only come back up when you need another breath. Can you do that?”
Iric tries again.
If anything, there’s even more splashing. And letting his chin sink below the surface doesn’t count as breathing out underwater.
“How was that?” Iric asks.
“Keep practicing.”
As Iric continues kicking, I watch Soren out of the corner of my eye. At first, I thought he was watching me, and I thought to be self-conscious about my poor lessons. But after a while, I realize his eyes are on Iric. Watching the friend who he helped get banished to the wild. The friend who wouldn’t take him up on his own offers of swim lessons. Iric is a proud man, and Soren is a bit of a broken man. He’s here because Iric won’t let him help, and all he can do is watch from the side as I do what Soren has been wanting to do.
I wave an arm at Soren, ushering him over. He returns his ax to his back before jogging up to me. Iric takes a deep breath and dunks his chin back in the water, kicking once more. If he notices that Soren has joined us, he says nothing of it.
“What should I have him do next?” I ask.
“He needs to get over his fear of having his head submerged. Have him dunk under the water.”
Iric stops kicking and puts his feet on the bottom of the pool so he can stand. “Rasmira is teaching me. Not you.”
“He has a point, though,” I say. “You need to be comfortable with your head under the water.”
He grits his teeth. “I can do that.” He takes a breath so deep one would think it was his last and goes down. The hair at the top of his head dunks under for not even a whole second before he comes up again. He wipes the water from his face. “See. I did it.”
“Do it again. Count to five and then come up,” I say.
Iric arcs back an arm and connects it at just the right angle to send a huge spray of water into my face.
“Hey!” I shout.
“You’re here to teach me to swim. Not make me do tricks!”
“It’s not a trick. You need to learn to hold your breath. How else are you to face a water beast?”
Iric stomps over to the edge of the pool, preparing to haul himself out.
“Wait.”
He pauses, but I can tell he’s already about to decide to ignore me. I place a hand on his arm. “Come here.”
Grudgingly, Iric lets go of the edge and walks with me back to the center of the pool. I take his hands in mine. “You’re not alone in this. Remember that. We’ll do it together.”
He looks down at our joined hands. Resolve takes over his features, and he nods. “All right.”
On the count of three, we both bend at the knees and go down. Iric’s fingers in mine turn into a death grip, but I don’t let go.
I cut him a break, and only count out three slow seconds, before tugging him back up. He doesn’t need any extra encouragement.
I beam at him, proud of my student. “How did he do?” I ask, turning to Soren.
Soren is looking at me so strangely, the smile falls from my face. “What?”
“I’ve never seen you smile like that before. You have a lovely smile.”
Lovely.
That word has my throat tightening, bile threatening to come up.
Even with the cut, you’re still lovely. How do you manage that?
Another boy once called me lovely. A boy who regarded me as an insect, offering me food to draw me in with one hand while preparing to squash me with the other.
“That’s enough swimming for the day,” I say, the words coming out flat. I haul myself out of the water, grab my things, and plunge into the wild.
* * *
WHEN THE BOYS RETURN from the lake, I’ve already changed and braided my hair out of my face. I open the door in the floor, staring down at the two boys that are still very wet. I wonder if Iric pushed Soren in.
“Stay where you are,” I say as Iric tries to grab a branch.
“Why?” he asks.
I’ve thought about this the whole time I walked back alone to the tree house. I had to think of something to keep my thoughts away from Torrin.
“We’re going to complete our mattugrs,” I start, but Soren butts in.
“We are?”
“Yes, you missed that conversation. But we are. And if we’re going to help each other, we need to trust each other. Right now, Iric, you don’t trust Soren. Or at least you’re still holding too much against him.”
Iric shoots an incredulous look up at me. “Of course I’m holding things against him! He is the reason I’m banished!”
“No,” I argue. “You got yourself banished. You should have trusted Aros and taken the trial for the profession you wanted.”
Iric’s glare is murderous. “Just like you trusted your friend?”
Oh, that one hurts. I trusted Iric with what happened at my trial, and now he’s throwing it in my face.
I slam the trapdoor shut and sit on it.
“What are you doing?” Soren asks.
“Neither of you is coming up here until you talk through your problems!” I shout.
“She can’t be serious,” Iric says.
I’m dead serious. Earlier today, Iric needed a gentler hand to help and encourage him while swimming. But this? This is something he needs to face head-on. And I don’t care if he’s angry about it.
There’s pressure against the trapdoor as someone tries pushing against it. Probably Iric.
At the angle he has to shove, he’s not moving the door anywhere.
“Dammit, Rasmira! Move it!”
“No!”
“Get out of the way or I swear on your goddess that I won’t make you new armor!”
“Iric, you idiot! I’m doing this for you. You want to go home. We all do. You’re not going to accomplish that if you keep holding so much over Soren’s head.”
“You expect me to suddenly forgive him because you won’t let me inside my own house?”
“No, I expect you to talk. What happens after that is up to you. But I won’t let your problems stand in the way of us going home.”
He growls up at me, but I don’t move. Eventually, I hear the sounds of Iric climbing back down.
“Soren, make her let us in!” Iric screams.
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Flash that winning smile or bat those long lashes or something.”