Free Outcast by Michelle Paver

here, and as he struggled to his feet he got a clear view downstream--and saw a dugout nosing around the bend.
    Aki saw him, and yelled in triumph.
Desperately, Torak looked about. No time to climb the slope. Up ahead, a rockfall blocked his way. He was trapped.
And Aki had a quiverful of arrows.
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TWELVE
Torak threw off his gear and jumped in the river. The cold was a punch in the chest, and the current tugged off his boots and blinded him with his hair. Spluttering, he surfaced among willows. He clung to one. It didn't give much cover. He took a deep breath and pulled himself under.
    The river was murky, eager to carry him to Aki. His numb fingers lost their grip, and as the current spun him, he caught a flash of the log he was about to crash into. He tried to dive, couldn't get deep enough, took a blow on the temple. Kicking water, he burst free--to a
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blaze of sunlight and a fishing spear aimed at his chest. It wasn't a log he'd crashed into. It was Aki's dugout.
Frantically, Torak twisted, then dived under the boat. He bobbed up on the other side. Aki was waiting. Again the spear jabbed. Again Torak dived beneath the boat. His legs were stone, his chest bursting. An image flared in his mind of the elder-branch pipe he'd used for tapping birch-blood. Should've kept it, should've thought... Once more he surfaced--but this time as Aki lunged, Torak grabbed the spear-shaft and yanked with all his might. Aki howled and pitched over the side.
Locked together, they fought, each battling to wrench the spear from the other. Aki jerked the shaft beneath Torak's chin and slammed him against the boat. Choking, Torak drove his knee into Aki's groin. Aki roared and let go of the spear. Torak went for it, but the river carried it away.
    That lunge nearly cost him his life. As he reached for the spear, Aki seized his hair and pushed him under. Flailing, Torak clutched Aki's jerkin--leggings-- anything. Couldn't catch hold of the slippery buckskin, couldn't claw loose from the grip on his hair. His sight darkened, his mouth gaped to scream--and the river took the bubbles of his breath. In the last moment he twisted around and sank his teeth into Aki's thigh.
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A muffled bellow, and Aki released him. Torak exploded from the water, gulping air like a landed salmon.
Forcing himself under again, he surfaced in a clump of alders, upstream of the dugout. Aki was downstream, his bristly scalp just visible as he clung to a tree and fought for breath. The boat was between them, wedged among willows. That gave Torak an idea.
     
Sinking beneath the surface, he let the river carry him, emerging without a ripple closer to the dugout, but still upstream. He heard Aki's labored breathing on the other side of the boat but couldn't see him. The Boar Clan boy sounded spent, and Torak hesitated. Then a hardness like a splinter of bone seemed to enter his heart. Bracing his shoulders against a willow, he kicked the dugout with both feet. It bucked like a forest horse. He kicked again--it jolted loose--and the river took hold. The moment before the dugout struck Aki, Torak grabbed a tree and pulled himself high enough to see. He saw the boy's head jerk up, his eyes widen in fear. He saw the heavy oak smack into him and bear him down, down toward the rapids. Aki didn't even have time to scream.
    Grimly Torak clung to the tree. The lapping water was gentle. From downstream came no sound except the roar of the rapids.
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Torak turned and swam upriver to where he'd left his gear. He hauled himself out and collapsed. The muddy taste of the river was in his mouth, the sour smell of moss in his nostrils. The wound in his chest ached.
     
Retrieving his things, he spotted a way up the rocks which he hadn't noticed before, and started to climb. Granite scratched his bare feet, and he remembered that the river had taken his boots. He shrugged.
     
When he reached the top, he retraced his steps till the rapids were in sight. To make sure.
     
The dugout had