Tahki stared, stunned. The leather reins slid from his hands. Air caught in his throat. It was as though a spell had been cast on his legs. A numbness settled over him as he looked into the cat’s eyes. They swirled like the heavens, like stars colliding. His nose tingled. The scent of spiced curry bread filled his nostrils. The sound of the river became the chatter of people, hundreds of people, like he stood in the middle of a crowded foyer and listened as they spoke of the weather, of fishing, of the land and the sea. He felt pine needles brush his skin and coral rub against his teeth. His stomach bloated like it was Dunesday and he’d just eaten an entire baked lamb pie. The sensations had a dreamlike realness to them, pleasant and nonthreatening.
It wasn’t until the cat stepped around him that the strangeness shattered, and he was left with crippling fear in its wake. The black beast did not roar or pounce or lunge. She moved her sleek body like the sun moved shadows, a lulled pace that took both a lifetime and a second to reach him.
She stood beside him now, her body more massive than he remembered. He felt strangely at peace.
But it didn’t last.
The cat lowered her massive head and growled. Then with the same fluidity as before, she raised one giant paw and shoved Tahki’s chest. The motion felt both controlled and forceful, so quick he hardly had time to let out a scream as he fell down the bank and into the river.
The water consumed him. He fought to find the surface, propelled by the swift and violent force. Cold water filled every part of him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The current thrust him forward, pulled him under. He scrambled to find anything to push off from with his legs, but the water moved too fast. He tried to fight it as fire tore through his body. His lungs burned, and blackness seeped into his mind. First his arms stopped moving, then his legs stopped kicking, and suddenly none of his limbs worked.
He couldn’t fight it.
And then he felt his body resist the tug of water. Something dug into his flesh, and he pictured the black cat clawing at him. It had jumped into the river to finish him off. But then he realized the burning had stopped.
He felt hard ground beneath him. Somewhere, a voice yelled, but he couldn’t make out the words. Something warm pressed against his face, against his ears and nose. There was pressure on his stomach and chest, rhythmic and a little painful. He wanted it to stop, but it persisted, until he felt the river churn inside him. Suddenly, his body convulsed and he threw up water. He coughed and spat and gulped in air. At first he couldn’t see, but as his eyes adjusted, he noticed dirt and rock walls on every side.
When he turned, he saw Rye hunched over him, eyes wide with panic. Tahki tried to pull himself up.
“Don’t,” Rye said. He set his hand on his chest. “Don’t try to move.” Tahki obeyed. Rye’s hands shook a little. He wiped his nose. “What kind of idiot falls in a river?” He tried to smile, but it came out a trembling grimace.
“Sorry,” Tahki whispered. His throat felt raw.
“Sorry?” Rye repeated. He shook his head. “You weren’t breathing.”
“Sorry,” Tahki said again. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Rye laughed a humorless laugh. “You really do have a thing for the dramatics, don’t you?” His voiced sounded thick. His entire body shook, his eyes full of fear.
As Tahki regained consciousness, he pieced together what had happened. The black cat had pushed him into the river. Rye had not seen it, but he’d probably heard Tahki scream. He must have jumped in after him, and the river had towed them somewhere dark, maybe under the castle. But one certain thought stuck in his mind.
Rye had saved his life.
He felt dizzy. Rye wasn’t angry at him anymore but fearful, which wasn’t any better. With each day that had passed since Tahki had come to live at the castle, his relationship with Rye grew more complicated, more confusing. But at that moment, Tahki needed simplicity. He needed clarity, and he knew no words could express his feelings.
So Tahki reached up, his back still firm against the ground, and locked his arms over Rye’s neck. He drew Rye down to him, curling his fingers in his hair, and brought their lips together. The kiss felt soft and cool, and both their bodies relaxed against each other.
But the trauma of the river had been too much. Tahki’s arms fell to the dirt, and his mind slipped away into darkness.
HE WASN’T asleep, but he couldn’t open his eyes. His limbs refused to move just yet. It still felt like his body was caught in the tow of the river. He could almost feel the current moving over him, the water so cold it burned, and he wondered if his mother had felt the same way when the flames devoured her.
She had been brilliant, loved, respected. She would have become famous had she saved herself instead of Tahki that night. All he’d wanted to do since the day she’d died was make it up to her, follow the path she would have taken. If he became a famous architect, his success would be hers. His father had never understood his obsession with fame, that if the world saw what Tahki could do, they would get a glimpse of what his mother might have achieved. This castle had been his chance to prove to her that he had been worth saving, but someone or something clearly didn’t want him to succeed.
The numbness faded, and he rubbed his eyelids gently until they unstuck. He opened his eyes to Rye’s muddy face. His hair looked clumped and damp, his lips parted slightly, his brow furrowed.
Tahki’s
