Book 4: Swallowed by the River

Maddox

Hunter stands next to me at the river’s edge, the first inklings of morning light drifting lazily over the roiling water and the shadow land beyond. Dark clouds are gathering in the distance, and I try not to think of them as a dark omen to kick off our quest.

I turn to see Trinity standing nearby, her eyes wide as she inspects the water, which is ripping past us at an impossible speed. Further downriver is a rope–some type of woven line of metal stretching from one side of the river to the other, the side touching Hunter’s territory glinting in the sun as the first rays reflect off several carabiners meant to help ease us across.

“Everything you own is going to be soaked,” Hunter says casually, glancing at the backpack I’m wearing.

“You’re sure there isn’t another way across?”

“Not at this time of year. Had you come three weeks earlier, you could’ve simply hopped from rock to rock to the other side.”

I purse my lips and lo