5. Yera

Chapter five

Yera

F alling face-first into the water is my last memory.

The shallow mountain pool gives way to murky green depths. I can still see the creature sinking its sharp white teeth into my skin and dragging me further under.

I remember kicking and thrashing, trying to free myself, only to feel the rip and pop of a tendon breaking in its powerful jaws.

Things went black after that.

I don't know how I made it to the surface, and I don't know how I'm breathing.

I'm on all fours when my vision finally clears. The flat boulder I was on is back beneath me, and water is forcefully heaving out of my body. My throat burns, but I can't stop coughing. I can't stop throwing up .

What happened? It wasn't easy to see the animal clearly, but the head looked like an alligator or crocodile. However, my recollection of the body can't be correct. No reptile in the northwest, or anywhere, has coarse fur and a long, flat, leathery tail.

My thoughts go still. In the corner of my eye, I catch white and black. Odd colors to find in the middle of a river bank. I turn my head slowly so my motion doesn't draw attention.

The thing in front of me has its face turned away— his face turned away. It's humanoid and most likely male from its shape and muscle tone. Two arms and two legs and relatively proportionate to humans, perhaps taller and thicker.

The skin, however, is milky white, with short, curved, black horns on his temples. He is in clothes, black worn leather pants and a white linen shirt, now transparent from the water. I can make out black marks on the skin under the sheer fabric. His face has human features: a nose, mouth, wide-set lips, and high cheekbones.

He looks away from me, focusing on something in the distance, so I can't quite distinguish his eye color. When he suddenly turns and meets my gaze head-on, from sclera to iris, his eyes are black. Under the intensity of that gaze, the composure I was holding onto snaps like a twig.

I kick off the rock and fall into the current, hoping it carries me downstream faster than this thing can follow me.

Unfortunately, I forget how shallow it is and land on my shredded foot. Pain ripples through my body. I pick up the injured foot, shifting my weight to the right side. Regrettably, the current is just strong enough. I'll need both feet to keep balance.

My arms wobble and shift, trying to hold my injured body upright. I'm not moving at all, simply stalled in the river while that creature moves closer. I panic, and my balance shifts again .

I'm stuck. I'm fucking stuck .

I can't go anywhere with this foot.

I lose focus on my balance and feel my legs buckle under the current. My body tenses, bracing for impact, but it doesn't come.

A large hand catches me by the crook of my arm before I crash into the creek, keeping me steady. I look back at his haunting yet somewhat ethereal face, soaked white shirt, and tousled blue-black hair. I want to fight against him, to push him off and swim downstream.

Then what? It's become blatantly apparent that I'm no longer in Oregon.

What will I do if I escape?

He hasn't tried to hurt me yet. If I calculate the odds of me surviving with a broken foot alone in a land I'm entirely unfamiliar with, they seem pretty grim. If I have some help, my odds improve drastically.

The freezing water rushes over my foot and calf. Still locked his grip on me, I meet his eyes. "Just do it quickly." I wince, tightening my features and body as if to brace for the impact, but it doesn't come. He looks shocked by my words but says nothing.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" I hold one eye open, examining. He looks at me scandalized, shakes his head no, and motions that he wants to pick me up.

If he wanted to hurt me, it would have happened already. I stare down at my mangled foot, still leaching red blood into the clear water, then back at him. Without a gesture or a word, I let him wrap my arm around his neck and lift me out of the water.