Free Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy by Jonathan Biviano

his legs and pulled. As his head sank
below the surface, he realized that he also held onto a leg.
The realization that two lives were in danger shocked him
into clear thinking. With his free left hand he reached for
his dagger at his belt. The river had taken it!
    His mind raced. He looked at the vines that had grown
tighter around his ankles. His sword still hung at his side
but he did not want to release the other person to get at it.
As this thought crossed his mind he realized that the body
he held might be armed. He pulled it closer and then, in
one quick turn of the body, he saw the face. He grabbed
Lendril’s belt with his left hand with all the might he could.
Then, with his right, he freed her axe from its scabbard.
    Suddenly his ankle slipped for a moment and he
gasped. The water flowed in and out of his lungs like
oxygen. After a moment of surprise, he tried breathing.
For reasons beyond him, it worked. With the strength of
his newly discovered ability, he pulled his chest down to
his knees and sliced. The water blunted the force of the
axe, but after several chops, the vine fell apart. Another
one snaked out to replace it, but with a kick the prince had
them both out of reach of it and in the current.
    Swimming on pure adrenalin, Tych brought them to the
opposite shore. On the sandy patch there, he dragged
Lendril onto her side. As he bent over to help her empty
her lungs, he caught a lone vine approaching under water
out of the corner of his eye. He removed his sword belt and
tossed aside his backpack. Taking one of his daggers from
his pack, he dove back into the river.
    Almost the moment he broke the surface a vine grabbed
him around the waist. With the blade outstretched, he
allowed himself to be pulled towards the owner of the
tentacle. Down he went, passing through a hole in the river
floor. Finally, he reached the lair of the beast.
    Nothing he had ever imagined matched the ferocity of
the creature in the river. As it drew him towards its mouth,
he faked death until the last moment. Then he struck out
and landed the dagger in the eye of the predator. He pulled
it back out and raised it to strike again when, suddenly, he
found himself caged by a row of teeth.
    Lendril stirred on the shore, coughing and sputtering, as
Tych drove the blade into the roof of the beast’s mouth.
The water around him filled with deep-green blood,
blinding him to his surroundings. The tongue whipped up,
tossing him towards the awaiting throat. Again he held
onto the dagger.
    A mighty swallow grabbed onto Tych and yanked him
down the creature’s throat. Frantically, he began stabbing
out in every direction. Now he could taste the blood going
down with him towards the stomach of his foe. In
desperation, he tried to open the floodgates of energy in his
mind. Fear began to creep in and with a mighty battle cry,
the wells of power opened.
    Lendril meanwhile sat up and saw the blood and air
bubbling to the top. With tears coming to her eyes, she
came to her knees and looked deep into the water. Slowly,
not wanting to see the conclusion, she picked up Tych’s
things and turned towards the forest. A few feet into the
trees she sat down, exhaustion taking over.
    Suddenly, a cry of pain, freedom and glory shattered
the still forest. Looking towards the river, she saw Tych
twenty feet above the surface. He seemed to hang there for
a moment, and then he fell. On his way down he put his
hands above his head and split the bubbling river with a
dive. As his head came above water, the hole in the
riverbed sucked the path of the water down, until the bed
down-river dried up. Tych went down with it, unable to
fight.
    Lendril yelled in horror and helplessness. She
screamed his name in dismay and jumped up. Then she sat
back down, weariness overwhelming her. Ignorant of
Tych’s ability to breath water, tears began to roll down her
cheek.
    Suddenly, a tall, dark-skinned man rushed by and