to get off this river,” I told Ray. “We have to get off it now.”
“Not good timing!” he yelled back, gesturing at the high banks and thick forest cover beyond them.
“It is going to be worse in a moment,” I said, and once more, I tried to launch my spirit form.
There was a chance, I thought, that my recent difficulties lay in attempting to use the combat version of my ability, which had manifested only recently. But there was the other, much less taxing type of projection, the one that was more mental than physical. The same type that the fey had just used.
I threw my mind outward, trying to find a bird of my own, or any creature whose body I might borrow for a moment. I wanted to see how much time we had, and the direction of the coming attack. It wasn’t much, but it was the only way I could help Ray, who was battling to keep us upright as we approached true whitewater.
I latched onto one of the beaver-like creatures, intending to send it scurrying for the higher treetops, and give me a view over the forest. But something went wrong—very wrong. I had it for a moment, looking down through its eyes at our paw, and the fat grub we had just fished out of a tree. The insect was squirming, but we were gripping it determinedly, feeling satisfied and anticipatory, all at once.
But then something happened, and instead of one pair of eyes, I was suddenly looking through dozens, maybe hundreds.
Furry things were waddling through tunnels or nursing tangles of bright-eyed babies in burrows. Others were chewing through acres of wood, sending fresh smelling chips flying. Still more were running along the high branches of trees, their tails thwap thwap thwapping along the bark behind them, the ground dizzyingly far below as they leapt from limb to distant limb.
And all of it was happening at the same time.
I tried to rein it in, but instead, my vision shattered into a kaleidoscope with far, far too many facets to even try to process. There were whiskers in my face, a furry snuffling; there were claws, as one of the creatures wrestled another for a female’s affection; there was a furious chase around and around a huge, old trunk by a trio of youngsters, their claws gripping the wood as easily as human feet would run across sand. There was a sudden plunge under water, with furry bodies twisting and turning and racing after gleaming fish—
I exerted all my strength and finally managed to pull back, my heart pounding, my mind stuttering, my breath catching in confusion in my throat. For a moment, I was unsure whether I was in the river below or in the canopy above or far beneath the ground. I stared about, trying to will my eyes to focus on the here and now.
And snapped back to churning water and the back of Ray’s dark head.
I let my breath out in a trickle as reality returned.
I did not think I would try that again.
No, I did not think that at all.
Not that it would probably have worked if I had. Farseeing required concentration, and we had just hit the rapids—hard. I came fully back to myself to find waves crashing over the raft in a stinging spray, our little vessel shaking hard enough to send pieces of it boiling away over the water, and Ray digging his makeshift paddle deep, trying to keep us upright.
And then we plummeted over a six-foot waterfall.
It was tiny compared to the others we had encountered in this world, but it immediately led to four more in quick succession. It felt like we were bouncing down a giant staircase, except that we went under every time we splashed down, leaving water cascading off the canopy when we emerged, making it hard to see. And most of what I could make out was blurred by the prismatic effect of the sun through all those droplets.
Ray started trying to steer us toward shore, as the battering we were taking was not sustainable. I worked to tighten the ropes, and to keep the rest of his creation from falling to pieces around us. But that was made challenging by the rocks, which scraped across the bottom and slammed into the sides, flinging us this way and that. And by the current, which felt considerably faster, bringing more obstacles along every moment. And by the spray, which was constant now,