She followed the Rain Wild girl to the railing and climbed down after her to the muddy shore. The dragons had taken refuge for the evening on the delta between the two rivers and were rapidly trampling the vegetation into oblivion. Even so, it was the most pleasant place they had stopped at for a while. Scattered white trees with papery bark grew on almost dry land. Behind them a forest grew that looked almost familiar to Alise—a woodland of smaller trees with open spaces between them.

But she was following Thymara and the girl did not go that way, but toward the other river. For a time, Alise followed her in silence, intent on keeping up with the younger woman. Thymara walked swiftly; Alise did not complain. But as they reached the bank of the gentler river and began to walk up its shore, Thymara slowed, knitting her brow and peering around at the trees and moss and grasses.

“It’s so different here,” she said at last.

“It’s a more familiar kind of forest,” Alise agreed and then added, “To me at least.”

“The water is so clear.”

It wasn’t, to Alise’s eyes. But she saw immediately what Thymara was referring to. “There’s no white to it. No acid at all, or at least very little.”

“I’ve never seen a river like this.” Thymara made her way to the mossy bank and stooped down. After a moment of hesitation, she dipped her fingers into the water and let drops of it fall on her tongue. “I’ve never tasted water like this. It’s alive.”

Alise didn’t laugh. “It looks like normal river water to me. But I haven’t seen this much of it since I entered the Rain Wilds. Oh, we’ve passed some streams of clear water on our way here, but as you said, nothing like this.”

“Shh.”

Alise froze and followed the direction of Thymara’s stare. Across the river, deer had come to drink. There was a buck with a substantial rack, two spike bucks, and several does. Only one had noticed the two women. The large buck stood, muzzle still dripping, and stared at them while the other deer came and drank.

“And me with no bow.” Thymara sighed.

The buck’s large ears flicked back and forth. He made a sound in his throat, a whuff, and his companions immediately lifted their heads. He made no sign that Alise saw, but the deer immediately retreated into the shelter of the trees and underbrush with the buck being the last to wheel and go. Privately, Alise was glad that Thymara was weaponless. She would not have enjoyed watching him die, nor helping with the butchering.

“If stupid Greft wasn’t so selfish with the hunting tools, we’d all be having fresh venison tonight,” Thymara grumbled.

“Perhaps the hunters will bring something back.”