The wizard’s touch was cold, almost skeletal. Jig’s skin crawled, and his head felt stuffy. Between one breath and the next, it was as though he had come down with the worst head cold of his life. His eyes watered.

“Remember to hold your breath,” Ryslind said.

Jig stared at the whirlpool. The ice actually extended a few inches past its edge, so he would fall several feet into the freezing water. All he had to do was jump. The others had done it.

Another look back told him he had no choice. He could see unbroken waves behind them. The bridge of ice had begun to melt. He couldn’t go back.

But he couldn’t go forward, either. Not into that. The whirlpool was a giant mouth, waiting to devour him. The lake had swallowed the others in seconds. He had seen Riana’s face, white with fear as she flailed about, trying to keep her head above water. None of her struggles had made the slightest difference to the lake. As Ryslind had said, water was a powerful element. Why should Jig be sacrificed to the lake’s hunger?

Tears slipped down his cheeks. He wiped them on his shoulder. Jig had expected to die since he first saw the adventurers. But death by sword was one thing. This was fear on an entirely different scale. At least in combat, you didn’t have time to watch death approach. The whirlpool watched Jig in return. It taunted him. In the center of the cone, the water’s surface was glassy and clear, and only the whitecaps at the edge hinted at the pool’s true might.

At that point, Jig’s frightened thoughts were interrupted by the foot that kicked him headfirst into the whirlpool. He barely remembered to hold his breath.

The whirlpool jerked him sideways and plunged him deeper into the water. Jig reached out for the surface, but which way was it? He spun faster and faster, and finally he gave up on reaching the surface. He clutched his knees to his chest, closed his eyes, and waited for the lake to decide whether he would live or die.

Without warning, when he was spinning so fast he thought his stomach would explode, the water spat Jig out like a quarrel from a crossbow. He flew through the air and collided with something hard.

As the world flashed white, he had time to realize that Smudge was still tucked into his belt pouch. He hoped the fire-spider had survived.

He hoped that he survived as well.

CHAPTER 6 - More Needling

CHAPTER 6

More Needling