“You need to clean more than just your wound,” Evrane insisted, heaving Iseult onward. “Plus, if there is any magic to be had in this Well, you need as much skin exposed as possible.” Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “You can keep on your underclothes, if that will help.”
“I’ll strip with you,” Safi offered, grabbing for her shirttails. “If anyone shows up”—the shirt slid over her face, muffled her words—“I’ll dance around and distract them.”
Iseult forced a shrill chuckle. “Fine. You win—as always.”
By the time Safi had flung her shirt to the flagstones, Iseult started undoing her own buttons. Soon, both girls were stripped to their small clothes, their Threadstones glittering at their necks. As Safi helped Iseult sit on the ramp—oh, it was shockingly cold water—Evrane also undressed.
The monk glided into the Well, barely a wave around her chill-bumped skin. “Give me your arm, Iseult. I will dull your pain so you can swim.”
“Swim?” Safi squeaked. “Why does Iseult need to swim?”
“The healing properties are strongest at the center of the Well. If she can touch the spring’s source, it could heal her completely.”
Safi took Iseult’s left hand. “I’ll help you reach the bottom. I didn’t fight sea foxes just to have a simple swim stop me.”
Even though Iseult wasn’t particularly excited at the prospect of swimming, she offered her arm to Evrane. Soon, the familiar warmth rushed through Iseult’s biceps, shoulders, fingers, and she felt the lines of her face smooth away. Felt her lungs inhale fuller than they had in hours.
Iseult rolled her shoulder. Straightened her arm. Then she heaved an overly forlorn sigh. “If only they made stones that could dull pain this easily.”
Evrane’s forehead puckered. “They do. You used one on the … oh. Oh. That was a joke.”
Iseult’s lips tugged up—Evrane was starting to understand her humor—and Safi laughed. Then she shoved out into the well, lugging Iseult with her.
Together, they awkwardly frog-legged toward the center, spraying up a storm. “Just hold on,” Safi called, “and I’ll pull you down to the bottom.”
“I can manage alone.”
“And I don’t care. Just because you don’t feel pain doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Now hold your breath.”
Iseult sucked in, chest expanding …
Safi ducked under, hauling Iseult in a roar of exhaled bubbles. Iseult’s eyes snapped open. Then she heaved a clumsy kick and aimed down.
Iseult wasn’t sure how she or Safi knew where the spring’s source was. The world of the Well was rock, rock, and more rock. Yet something stirred inside her. A string winding tighter and tighter—but only as long as she swam in this one, true direction.
Pressure built in Iseult’s ears, pounded behind her eyes. Each stroke brushed colder and colder water against her flesh, making it harder to hold fast to Safi. Before they were halfway down, Iseult’s lungs started to burn.
Then they were to the bottom, and Safi was reaching for the rocks. Iseult reached too …
Her fingers hit something. Something she couldn’t see but that sent power—static—rushing over her body.
A red light flashed. Then flashed again—brighter. Safi’s and Iseult’s Threadstones were blinking.
That was when it happened. A boom! that slammed into Iseult. It yanked her sideways, wringing the air from her lungs. But she didn’t release Safi, and Safi didn’t release her as they churned toward the surface, pushed by water. By the charging roar that still quaked around them.
They broke the surface. Waves kicked and swept toward shore. Iseult sputtered and spun, completely disoriented by the Well’s roughness. By the power shivering through her.
Suddenly a gray head splashed up beside her. “Come on!” Evrane hooked her arm in Iseult’s and towed her toward the ramp.
“What’s happening?” Safi shouted, straggling behind.
“Earthquake,” Evrane called, her strokes sure. Then Iseult’s feet scraped stone, and she shoved to her feet. Evrane and Safi did the same, and all around them, the Well’s waters kept reaching and spraying, twirling and trembling.
“I should have warned you,” Evrane panted, “we have tremors from time to time.” Already, the water was calming, the earth stilling once more. But Iseult barely noticed, her gaze caught on Evrane’s Threads. They were the wrong color for fear of an earthquake or even for concern over the girls’ safety.
Evrane’s Threads burned with a blinding sunset-pink awe.
And now that Iseult was staggering from the water beside the monk, she thought she saw tears falling from Evrane’s dark eyes.
“Are you all right?” Safi asked, clutching Iseult’s shoulder and distracting her from Evrane.
“Oh. Um…” Iseult stretched her arm and honed in on the feel of the muscle, the roll of her joints. “Yes. It does feel better.” Her whole body felt better, in fact. Like she could run for miles or endure the worst of Habim’s drills.
And now that she was focused on it, she found a strange, boundless joy rushing through her—almost in time to the waves against her calves. The wind gusting over the Well. The twirling happiness in Evrane’s Threads.
“I think,” Iseult said, meeting Safi’s bright eyes and grinning, “it’s all better now.”