Dindi
Dindi woke from the Vision—drowning.
Blue-skinned rusalki held her under the wild, churning river. Their claws dug into her arms. Their riverweed hair wrapped around her legs when she tried to swim to the surface. She only managed to get a few breaths before they pulled her down again.
She hadn't known the river was so deep or fast. On her second gasp, she saw the current had already dragged her far from the girls on the bank. Some were running along the river—Jensi and Gwenika among them—trying to keep up, but trees and rocks slowed them. The fae only pushed Dindi faster.
Now she saw where they were taking her. A whirlpool of foam and fae swirled between two large rocks. The rusalka and her sisters pulled her toward it. Other water fae joined them—long-snouted pookas, turtle-like kappas, hairy-armed gwyllions. All danced in the whitewater.
"Join our circle, Dindi!" the fae voices gurgled. "Dance with us forever!"
"No!" she kicked and swam upward and stole another breath—then they caught her again. There were so many now, all pulling her under, singing with the river's roar.
She tried to shout "Dispel!" but swallowed water instead.
Her head hit a rock. She felt dizzy. She sank again.
This time, she was sure she wouldn't come back up.
"Dispel!" A man's voice.
Strong arms wrapped around her. She felt herself rising—her head and arms broke the surface. Her rescuer swam with her toward shore. He fought the river. He ignored the fae hands trying to stroke his hair and arms.
In the shallows, he lifted her and carried her to the grassy bank. He set her down gently.
She coughed up water while he held her upright.
"Better?" he asked.
She nodded. He looked young—just a few years older than her. But he moved with such strength and calm that he seemed older. She was sure he must be a Tavaedi.
"Good." He smiled. A lock of dark hair dangled over one eye. He brushed it back with one wet hand.
Dindi realized her hand was touching bare skin—he had no shirt. Both of them were soaked. Water ran over his muscles like streams over stone. Her own wrap stuck to her body like a wet leaf.
She blushed.
"It might have been easier to swim," he teased, "if you had let go of that." He touched her hand, which still gripped something tight.
She looked down.
The corncob doll. She still held it.
She stared at her hand like it didn't belong to her.
"You must think I'm a fool."
"Not at all," he said. "You must be a strong swimmer to survive that long. I couldn't tell if the fae were trying to save you or drown you."
Both, she thought.
"Let's get you dried off," he said with another dazzling smile. "My pack is back there."
Great Aunt Sullana would have had many words about following a strange man through the woods—but Dindi followed him anyway.
His basket was nearby, sitting on a large rock beside a beached kayak. He must have dropped it before jumping into the river.
"I thought my rucksack was big," Dindi said. His pack was as tall as she was—and probably twice as heavy. "Can you really carry that thing?"
He grinned. "My friends were too generous with their journey gifts." He opened the flap and searched through folded blankets and wrapped bundles. "You're an Initiate, aren't you?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes."
"I don't have any girls' clothes," he said without turning around. "But here—try this until we get you back to your camp. I'm sure the Tavaedies in charge of you are worried."
She ran behind some bushes. Quickly, she dropped the wet wrap and wrapped the dry cloth around her.
The new material felt soft as swan down. She had never seen cloth so smooth, with such fine threads. The colors were the six of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe, but deeper, brighter. The maze pattern was the same too—but woven in much more detail.
"You're from Rainbow Labyrinth tribe too!" she cried, stepping from the bushes.
He was facing away.
She hadn't checked to see if he was dressed yet.
He had removed his wet legwals.
She got a full view of his back—broad shoulders like wings, powerful thighs, and… everything else.
"Oh, mercy!" She turned red. "I'm so sorry!" She backed up, tripped over a root, and hit a tree. "I'll, um, go—"
"It's all right," he said easily. He didn't seem nearly as embarrassed as she was. "I'm almost dressed."
She ran behind the bush again and didn't come back out until he was tying up his legwals. They weren't leather, like most. They were made from the same fancy cloth as what he'd given her.
He lifted the huge pack—including the kayak—without effort. It looked light as a basket of feathers.
"Your people are that way," he said, pointing upstream.
She remembered her manners.
"My name is Dindi," she said. "Of Lost Swan clan, Rainbow Labyrinth tribe."
He hesitated. "Kavio."
She waited for more. He said nothing about his clan or tribe.
"But the weave you gave me—it's from Rainbow Labyrinth tribe, right?"
"I was. Once."
"Oh." Her heart sank. "You're married, then?"
"No."
He didn't want to talk about why he had no clan. She didn't want to explain the corncob doll. So she changed the subject.
"Thank you for saving me," she said. "I owe you a lifedebt."
"I believe the usual reward is a kiss."
Her heart jumped. The idea both thrilled and scared her.
Sparks danced in his eyes. Not just mischief—something stronger. Like lightning was stronger than a candle flame.
"But," he said, leaning close, his voice soft in her ear, "there's something I want more."
She froze.
"Tell me your Chromas," he said.
"Wh—what?"
"No one can hide from me. I mean no one. Others have tried. But not you. I can't see it."
"You mean Tavaedi colors?" she asked. "I haven't been tested. I'm still just an Initiate."
He looked confused. Almost angry. Like a man who expected water and got sand.
"Have I broken my lifedebt?" she asked, feeling sick.
"No," he said quickly. He shook his head, as if to clear it. "Of course not. I'll accept something else—whatever you choose. I just thought… I'm not usually wrong."
Voices echoed along the riverbank. People were coming.
Jensi. Gwenika. All the girls—even Kemla, who was crying—and the Tavaedies from both tribes, led by Abiono.
"Dindi! Thank the Six Faeries, you're alive!" Abiono said. "Kemla said you were playing on the log and fell, and she was so upset…"
Kemla was upset?
Yes—there she was, wailing like a baby.
"It was all my fault!" she sobbed. "I was showing a few flips—not dancing, just showing—and Dindi tried to copy me, even though she didn't know how—and she just…" She burst into loud sobs.
"That's not quite what happened," said Gwena. She looked guilty. "We were—"
"I dropped my doll from the log," Dindi said. "I fell in trying to catch it."
Gwena looked at her with thanks in her eyes.
Dindi pointed at Kavio. "This man saved me."
Abiono looked startled. "Is that true?"
Kavio bowed his head.
"Then we are most grateful," said Abiono. "We're on our way to the Yellow Bear tribehold for Initiation. Are you going that way?"
"I am," said Kavio.
"Marvelous! Please travel with us. You've saved a daughter of our clan, and we cannot thank you enough. I speak for her parents, in their absence. I will pay your lifedebt." He added quietly, "You can't imagine what her great aunt would do to me if Dindi had drowned."
Kemla wailed again.
"It was horrible to watch!" she cried. "I still haven't recovered!"
The other girls gathered around her and comforted her as they all walked back to camp.