Page 132 of Lana Pecherczyk

“River?”

“Still alive, Sparkles,” he croaked, throat raw from swallowed river water. He forced a confident smirk onto his lips. “Wouldn’t leave you alone in this shithole.”

Relief softened Blake’s features. She kneeled beside him, hands cupping his jaw.

“Thought I’d lost you for a minute.”

“Takes more than a pissed-off water horse to kill me.”

He surveyed their surroundings for the first time since awakening. They’d washed up in some kind of underground chamber, larger than any storm drain he’d ever seen. He’d thought it might be a maintenance tunnel, but now he wasn’t sosure. Smooth stone walls curved overhead into a domed ceiling crawling with glowworms. “Help me stand.”

Blake slid her shoulder under his arm, and together, they staggered to their feet. The world tilted. Darkness crowded River’s vision. Her arm locked around his waist, steadying him with surprising strength.

The chamber stretched into shadows beyond the small pool where they’d emerged. Not just glowworms. Blue light emanated from phosphorescent fungi clinging to walls, casting shifting shadows with their movements. Stone shelves had been carved into the rock, bearing objects River couldn’t immediately identify.

“What is this place?” Blake asked, voice hushed with wonder.

“Part of the farm park ruins?—”

“Fun park?”

“Yeah, that.” His words felt thick, copper-coated. “Storm drains are sometimes connected to maintenance tunnels. Maybe.”

Blake guided him toward a flat stone surface that might have once been a bench. “Sit before you fall.”

“Bossy,” he grumbled, but sank gratefully. His patchy wings drooped behind him.

“Someone has to be the sensible one.” She wrung water from her hair. “And considering I’m not the one needing help to stand, that’s me.”

“Your heroics have gone to your head.”

“Maybe they have.” Something fierce crossed her face, a certainty that struck him silent. “I saved that kid. Me.”

Pride—vibrant and deep—surged into him. “You did.”

“Me.”

He grinned.

“Oh no. Not again.” She covered her mouth, eyes widening, and lurched toward the water’s edge. She vomited water and bile into the pool they’d emerged from.

He winced, pushing himself halfway up before his body rejected the movement. “I’d help, but I can’t move.”

She waved him down between heaves. “I’m good.”

“You puke a lot.”

“Wish I could say it’s new,” she managed, sucking in deep breaths. “Me brothers loved finding new smells and textures to test me gag reflex.” She retched again. “Always been easily triggered.”

River slumped, fighting a wave of dizziness. “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be exiting the same way we arrived. Not for a while.”

“Gross.” Another deep inhale. “I think it’s passed.”

“Come here.”

She stumbled back to him on shaky legs, dropping to her knees beside the stone bench. His fingers tangled through her wet hair, and she instantly rested her cheek against his thigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“You good?” he asked, stroking her hair.