The Library of Light and Shadow (Daughters of La Lune #3)

What else had Sebastian done? Why had I been so blind to his faults?

I stopped for a moment. Water rushing from above churned into the rocky pool. A second waterfall flooded a lower pool. Peering over its side, I looked down into the ravine. All I could see was more water surging toward the lower ridge. Mist filled my view. I smelled the crisp, wet air and the forest’s muddy soil. The landscape was overripe compared with how it had looked only days before.

Staying to the path, I moved on. I’d only gone a few feet when I thought I heard my name being called. I paused. The cascading water was so loud I couldn’t be sure. But then I heard it again. It was definitely my name being called, in a panicked voice. My brother’s voice. Not sure, not certain, not apologetic or worried—but desperate. The voice of someone in terrible trouble.

I doubled back to the waterfall and saw a figure bobbing in the water. I ran closer. Sebastian was fighting the pull of the current, trying to keep from being dragged over the side.

I raced toward the rocky pool. My brother was only feet away from the edge of the rapids, the rushing water ready to carry him away. Gripping what looked like a tree root, his knuckles were white with the effort of holding on. Even as I watched, he weakened.

“It’s pulling me . . .”

I hadn’t gone into the water since I was eight years old, when the rope tethering me to Sebastian had ripped. I couldn’t go in now. I was petrified by the surging water. The only thing that terrified me more was what was going to happen to Sebastian if I didn’t do something quickly.

I crawled out onto the rocks, traveling the length of escarpment as quickly as I could, always aware of the churning water on either side of me. The cruel current waiting to claim another victim. I got as close to Sebastian as possible. I stretched out my fingers, trying to grab the root he was clinging to. I got it! Now, if my brother could just hold on . . . and if I could just pull the root toward me . . . I tugged at it, yanking as hard as I could. But my strength was no match for my brother’s weight and the pull of the falls.

Inching out onto the rocky promontory, I moved closer to the water, closer to my twin.

“You’re going to have to let go of the root with one hand, Sebastian, and reach for me.”

I held out my arms.

Sebastian let go with his left hand and pushed against the vortex. But without both hands, he was no match for the water’s force. Our fingertips touched for a moment before the rapids grabbed him away from me and carried him toward the second falls.

I was completely helpless, watching in horror—and then, before he reached the very edge, some object or another root or rocks stopped his progress. A reprieve. But for how long? I scurried over more rocks, slipping on the moss, trying to stay balanced. I had to get to him. And then his head went down. I lost sight of him. Held my breath. Sebastian couldn’t drown. I couldn’t let him drown!

His head popped up again. He was coughing. Sputtering. He was no match for the water. He needed my help. I had no time to weigh my options. I searched the foliage behind me and found a ropy vine. Tested it. I had no idea if it was strong enough, but what choice did I have? Holding on to it with one hand, I lowered myself into the water. Immediately, the current swirled around me, but the vine held. I was close enough to grab my brother. My fingers found his shoulder. I struggled but managed to twist him around, get his head out of the water. With a giant effort, I pulled him toward me. I had him. Held him. He sputtered, spit out water. His eyes, staring into mine, were terrified.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” The same words he’d said over and over to me, many years before.

Hand in hand, we pushed against the water. Working to get back to the rocks. And we were getting there. We were going to be all right. Then the vine broke. Both of us were at the mercy of the churning current.

My head went under. In the shadowy water, I saw my brother’s hand in mine. Just like so long ago. And then I saw a ghostly image from that day, the end of the piece of rope. Not frayed. The rope tethering me to Sebastian hadn’t torn apart. It had been sliced. Cut clean through.

I broke water. Sputtering. Spitting. Gasping for breath. Moments later, Sebastian did, too.

“You cut the rope!” I said, gasping, despite the danger around us. “When we were children. When you took me swimming.”

Sebastian looked at me without understanding, as he continued fighting the current. We were holding our own, but neither of us was making any progress against the falls.

“What?”

“Tell me, or I’ll let go. Did you cut the rope?”

His expression was incredulous. We were fighting to stay connected. To reach safety.

“Tell me!”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To make sure you knew how much . . . how much you needed me.”

My feet found bottom. With a giant surge, I pushed ahead. Sebastian followed and then, gaining on me, reached the rock, and now he pulled me toward him. I was almost there. We were both going to be safe. Then I slipped backward. My hand jerked out of his. And I lost hold. Lost hold of all that was keeping me safe.

The water took me then, quickly, pushing me toward the edge of the falls, and I stopped thinking as I fell into the unknown abyss below.





Chapter 48


Water everywhere. Trying to get my head above the water. Taking in gulps of water. Then gulps of air.

Panic, a voice intoned, will doom you.

Gaspard’s voice? I listened. Yes, under the sound of the rushing falls, I was hearing his voice.

Let the water take you. Give yourself over to the current. Stop fighting. It’s all right. It’s all right.

I forced myself to relax, felt the water around me, rocking me. The pull had abated. I opened my eyes. I was tucked under and behind the falls in a calm pool. In front of me, the rushing water came down in a steady sheet and crashed into a green-blue pool. I could hear the roar of the cascade, but I was safe.

I was treading water, catching my breath, stunned that I had survived when my foot touched what felt like a rock flat enough for me to stand on. The water wasn’t as deep as I’d thought. I stood up, and my shoulders were out of the water.

I turned around and took a step and then another. There was a narrow tunnel in front of me. Rough stone walls on either side. And at the far end, I saw a light. The rocky floor was rough, and I’d lost my shoes in the tumult, so I swam into the grotto.

The scent of minerals and pine reached my nostrils. And something sweet. The closer I swam to the light, the stronger the fragrance became.

Then the tunnel opened up into a cavern. The light was a fire on the shore. There were even rocky steps leading up and out of the water. I climbed them, sniffing, recognizing the smell as frankincense.

Gaspard stepped out of the shadows and held out a large towel, which he wrapped around me.

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