They wake early, the elves, and the little village was already beginning to stir as the sky was beginning to lighten. Dark clouds scudded along the horizon, and a thick but passable mist rose from the river's surface; it crept along the ground and rose into the trees in a way that made the place seem eerie and dream-like.

Captain Gilmeare left the lodging house early, leaving Captain Bechard to organize their party's waking and preparation for departure. Gilmeare had secured their river passage soon after their arrival the night before, since the Wind Talkers did not take on new fares after sunset, and now had to quickly tend to the issue of the horses. The boats they would be travelling in weren't made to carry horses, let alone twenty laden with arms and equipment. It passed that he made a deal with the stablemaster of the lodging house; he and his sons would return the animals to the border fortress, for a price, of course. The folk of Kannoris are rustic and betimes primitive, but not stupid, and Captain Gilmeare's purse was no small bit lighter for it upon his return.

Victoria woke sore and stiff, and her muscles ached and joints cracked as she slowly stretched from the fetal position she'd slept in. Fighting the pounding behind her eyes, she pushed herself upright, slinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before beginning to work out the tangled mess of her hair, scanning her dimly lit surroundings as she did.

The lodging house was no more than a large, rectangular room. More than half the space was filled with three rows of simple beds, and the remainder held a handful of plain, circular tables and chairs, another longer table against the wall, and a simple stone fireplace.

Three elf women who looked to be of middle age entered through the open doorway. Two carried heavy trays laden with wooden bowls, spoons and cups, and a large tin pitcher of water; the third held a large pot of porridge. Serenely and unobtrusively they set their patrons' breakfast on the long table, then moved about tending the fireplace and lighting the candles on the tables. When they finished, the women excused themselves and exited as silently and gracefully as they had entered.

The unsubtle stirring behind her reminded Victoria of Soren's presence, and she turned as he sat up on his bed. He smiled at her as he stretched his arms above his head, lifting his shirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of tan, lean muscles. She bit her lip subconsciously, trying to stifle the butterflies that stirred in her belly. She didn't realize she was staring, and her eyes darted up when he cleared his throat, still smiling at her. Blushing, she smiled back before turning around to fumble with retying her hair. Straightening his clothes and grabbing his boots, he came around to sit beside her.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he pulled on his boots.

"Like shit, if I'm being honest. I'm sore in places I didn't know could get sore. It'd probably be too much to hope that there's ibuprofen here." Victoria replied as she rolled her neck side to side, massaging the stiff muscles.

"Well I don't know what that is, but my mother used to make us a tea with willow and mint that always worked for pain. I think Astrid knows how she makes it, or I could see if Master Agarus or Madame Lillaine might have somewhat that would help." He said.

"I'll be okay for the time being. Thank you, though." She said. Looking through one of the open windows, the sky was getting lighter, and golden light glowed on the horizon. "Right now, we need to get around and ready to leave."

And so they did. Soren gathered their packs and they made their way slowly up the aisle of beds. Once they reached the area with the tables, she was instructed by Soren to sit while he fetched them each a ration of porridge.

"How ya feeling today, kiddo?" Lilly asked as she joined Victoria at the table.

"Sore. Tired. Kinda like I was hit by a truck." Victoria replied.

"Good morning, Madame Lillaine." Soren said as he rejoined them with their breakfast.

"Good morning, Soren." She smiled at him before turning back to Victoria. "You'll probably feel drained for a day or so. You're young, and he didn't take hold for long, so you should recover quickly. But don't push yourself today." She warned. "If you feel like you need to rest, then rest. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am." Victoria said.

"Good." Lilly said as she stood from her chair. "You two eat up, it'll be time to leave soon."

When the sky lightened to a golden orange and the first rays of the sun reached out from the horizon, a bell sounded from the docks where the ferry boats were moored. It was their signal that it was time to make ready to set off, and the travelers moved to heed the call. In a strung-out procession they walked the short distance from the lodging house to the docks. Victoria's knees buckled beneath her halfway there, and Jasper and Astrid took their packs while Soren carried her the rest of the way. They wended their way carefully along the dock to the first in a line of three boats.

The boats themselves were simple but well-made crafts, each around fifty feet in length with a single wide sail, and a small cabin just large enough to sleep eight passengers. Above the cabin was the tented quarters of the Súre'antó who would be carrying them upriver; three of whom would be accompanying each vessel.

Soren stepped carefully across the gangplank, following where the others had gone ahead of him, and stopped just outside the cabin door. Slowly, carefully he set Victoria's feet on the floor, keeping a hand at her waist to steady her, and helped her descend the few small steps down into the cabin. Inside, Astrid steered her toward a set of beds along the wall, and she dropped gratefully onto the lower bunk.

"You should lie back down." Soren said as he placed a gentle kiss on Victoria's forehead. "Will you be alright if I leave you in here?"

"Oh, I don't know. I may just expire as a result of your absence." Victoria replied sarcastically, smiling. "I'll be fine. You don't need to coddle me, Soren. I'm a big girl."

Soren returned her smile, tipping her face upward to gently press his lips to hers. "I'll come check on you in a little while then." Still smiling, he turned and left the cabin.

Above deck, the sunrise was hauntingly spectacular. The sun, a white orb in the haze, set the sky ablaze as it rose, bathing the sleepy landscape in fiery red-orange light; the scudding clouds reflected dark red, like blood streaked across the sky. The mist that rose from the surface of the river swirled and drifted like ghostly flames. Through the beauty came a whisper from the Súre'antó.

"What are they saying?" Jasper asked, speaking for those among them who did not speak the language of the elves.

Captain Gilmeare answered, extending his arm, pointing to the eastern sky where the sun crept slowly higher. "A sign of bloodshed during the night."

Their faces became grave, no longer awed. The beauty of the sunrise was lost to what it betokened. The time had come to cast off and the Súre'antó instructed them to go below deck or brace themselves, as the launch could be quite jarring for those unaccustomed to it. Lilly and Ozan chose to go below, leaving the other younger passengers to take up places along the sides, and Soren and Astrid elbowed each other for the best spot at the bow.

The gangplanks were taken up, and the ropes tying the boats to the docks were tossed aboard. The vessels bobbed and listed sideways, drifting backwards with the current as they were released. Two of the Súre'antó aboard unfurled and secured the wide, center-set sail, then moved quickly to attend the rudder. The third stood atop the cabin, facing into the drooping canvas sheet, and closed his eyes and began chanting and moving his arms and hands in patterns that only made sense to him and his people. Before him at chest level, a silvery-grey vortex began to form, spinning with growing intensity; the sound of wind grew from a soft whisper to an angry howl.

The two at the stern held tight to the rudder, keeping them pointed in the correct direction, lest they be swept astray with the current. The windy vortex began to glow with a dull silver light, and in an instant, a powerful, unceasing gust of wind was expelled. The sails swelled and ropes snapped tight as the boat lurched forward, bobbing against the current as they picked up speed.

The initial blast was only for the purpose of the launch against the current, and after a few moments the intense force of the gale subsided, their pace becoming more measured, and allowing the other two boats to catch up and fall in line as they glided up the river. Forests, fields, and villages slipped past, and the locals waved and children would run alongside the shore as the boats sped by.

By the time the sun stood high overhead, something had changed in the shouted exchanges from the folk along the river. Their waves of greeting became tinged with caution the further upriver they went. A warning. A word was heard repeated each time; drák'enaal. Those aboard who knew the word looked about uneasily.

"What are they saying?" Jasper asked after the third such warning.

"They are warning us to be alert." Captain Gilmeare replied. "Creatures that inhabit this river, called the drák'enaal, have been acting strangely these few days past."

"What are they? Why do they fear these creatures?" Captain Bechard asked.

"I would answer your question, if I may?" one of the Súre'antó, a man named Aryn, approached soundlessly, addressing his question to Captain Gilmeare, who gestured for him to continue. "The drák'enaal is a fearsome water serpent with features likened to a dragon, that grows to ten feet or more in length. Their bite is highly toxic, and the spines along their backs are tipped with a poison that causes painful paralysis. They are territorial and can be quite aggressive if provoked, but usually they prefer to lurk below in the deepest dredges. However, in recent days, they've been surfacing and attacking boats traveling the river."

The travelers exchanged nervous glances, and for several moments no one said anything else. Aryn bowed, excusing himself, and glided away silently across the deck.

Captain Gilmeare straightened, addressing the others. "Everyone is to remain armed. Do not linger along the sides and not at all over the water." He strode away then, making his way to the rear of the boat. He called the same orders to the boat that followed them, and they were passed on to the one behind them.

And so they continued, vigilant and apprehensive. Victoria slept nearly the entire day, finally rising only when Soren woke her at suppertime. Her body ached from long hours curled and unmoving, but her joints and muscles no longer burned as they had before, and it felt good to get up and move around.

Outside at the stern, against the back wall of the cabin, there was a small covered area with a cooking stove. It was there the others congregated, passing around bowls of a vegetable and barley soup that Lilly made, and a skin of fuísce, courtesy of Captain Gilmeare. Her stomach growled angrily when she caught the scent of food.

"Oh, look who's finally awake!" Lilly said. She filled another bowl with the steaming soup, extending it to Victoria, who took it gratefully. "You look like you're moving around better at least. How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you." She sipped at the hot broth. "Still tired and little stiff still, but I don't feel like the walking dead anymore."

"I'm happy to hear that." Lilly smiled, then her expression sobered. "Since you're awake, you should now that we've received some concerning news from the river folk."

Victoria ate quietly as Lilly related the news. When she finished, being out on the deck no longer felt like a good idea, though she felt like she took it well enough. Back home she would've been helpless and completely useless in a dire situation; but not here. Still, she was unsettled enough by it, and chose to return to the cabin after a second bowl of soup.

"Here," Lilly said as she handed Victoria a small wooden cup filled with a steaming liquid, "drink this before you go. A little something to help you sleep, and by morning you'll be good as new."

Victoria took the cup, bringing it to her nose and sniffing the contents before taking a sip. It had an earthy aroma, and the taste was woodsy and sweet, and neither were unpleasant. As she swallowed the last dregs of the strange tea, she felt a light tingling like champagne bubbles all over her skin. A calm settled over her and she felt her eyelids become heavy as she handed the cup back to Lilly.

"I feel as if I may have just let you drug me, Miss Lilly." Victoria said.

Lilly chortled, nearly choking on her own tea. "Child you never cease to amuse me." She wiped a few sputtered droplets of tea from the front of her shirt. "No, I didn't drug you. It's a special brew I've devised that speeds up the body's healing process. Soren, be a dear and take Victoria back to bed, will you?"

Belatedly, Victoria realized something. The tea she drank was the same as the one Lilly drank, and the same she had seen her drink every night since they were attacked by the Brógudún.

"This is what you've been drinking to recover from becoming the owl, isn't it?" Victoria asked.

"Good eye." Lilly smiled and winked. "I haven't had a reason to do it in a long time, and it took more out of me than I reckoned. I'm old, with a willing spirit but an aged body, so it takes me a little while longer to get the pep back in my step." She patted Victoria's arm. "Don't you worry your little head about me, kiddo. You get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning."

Soren fetched up beside Victoria, laying a hand lightly on her waist and leading her back to the cabin. The tea began to take effect quickly, and he had to help her get back into the bed.

"The rest of us will be turning in soon." Soren said, brushing away an errant lock of Victoria's hair and placing a kiss on her temple. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Victoria mumbled as she hugged the blanket around her. As Lilly's concoction worked its magic the tingling sensation intensified until it became numbness, and she willingly succumbed when it pulled her into dreamless, peaceful sleep.

Victoria's was the only peaceful sleep to be had that night. The others slept in shifts, with a one-man watch posted on the stairs, keeping an ear to the river. Captains Gilmeare and Bechard had agreed earlier in the day that to avoid creating unnecessary noise and drawing unwanted attention, everyone including the watchman was to stay within the walls of the cabin and make as little movement as possible. They slept, but not peacefully.

Unnecessary noise or no, three crafts speeding along, alone on the river at night, would not go unnoticed by the things that live in the water. They may as well have carried flashing neon signs for all the good their silence did them.

It happened in the small hours of the night. The third boat, the farthest back, stirred to life. Something large splashed near the side, echoed by others near the bow and and starboard stern. The sentry, Onas Gennan, crept to rouse the other five men in the cabin. The two Súre'antó not filling the sail with wind stood poised atop the cabin with spears. The elf soldiers in the cabin sat motionless and silent on their bunks, armed and waiting for whatever was about to occur. The splashing became more frantic, more agitated, then suddenly something slammed into the port hull with such force that all three of the Súre'antó were knocked from atop the cabin and sent tumbling onto the lower deck, and two of the men below fell from their bunks.

With no one to fill the sail, the boat quickly lost momentum and began drifting backwards with the current. The slamming from beneath the hull continued as more bodies joined the assault, causing the boat to list sideways as the Súre'antó scrambled to regain control. Now they had a problem. The blast of wind required to launch them against the current also required they be pointing in the correct direction; meaning they were sitting ducks unless they could get the boat faced against the current. The soldiers had emerged from the cabin, hugging the walls and hurrying to help and provide cover. They scurried to the stern, gripping the rudder arm and desperately trying to right their course. Once near the edge of the boat, they could see in the water all around them, glowing red eyes.

It happened quickly at least.

Those on the second boat had seen it begin to happen, having been alerted by the initial splashing. But when they saw the lanterns from the third boat bob violently and disappear into the darkness, and the calls from their comrades grew distant, they feared they were lost. Then came the screams, and they knew for sure. To turn back and attempt rescue would put everyone's lives in danger. Word was called ahead to the lead boat, and the Súre'antó called their magic to blow them faster upriver. They would mourn their companions, and live.