Free Call the Rain by Kristi Lea Page A

dress. The open edge of the garment's neckline teased at him with her smooth flesh beneath.
    They walked silently together through the dark underground cave. Joral was completely dependent on her for his survival. Without her, he wasn't sure he could even find his way back to the hole. His world consisted of the ground beneath his feet, the rock at his fingertips, and the changeling in front of him.

Chapter 9
    Illista led Joral through the underground river, through the deep dark, through the belly of the earth. Her chest swelled with joy at the singing of the rushing river that flowed not far from her feet. The energy of the rushing water was exhilarating and overpowering at the same time so that she wished to both dive in headlong and to retreat to the quiet dryness of the surface again.
    The sound was like a thousand-thousand tiny voices clamoring for her attention at the same time. Each droplet wanted to tell her a secret, to play, to dance, to sing. To swim.
    Secret , she whispered back with her heart. Tell me your secret.
    The river lacked the words to describe it. Show you, whispered innumerable voices.
    So they walked. The water edged closer to their feet as they went, and the two humans edged closer to the cave wall. And then there was no more dry edge, just a slickness that slowed their pace as they kept from slipping into the water. After a few more minutes, she and Joral sloshed through an inch or more of cold black water. It tickled her feet and cheered at each of her steps, and part of Illista wanted to cheer along with it. To swim along with it.
    But Joral could not swim. Not as far as she could. Perhaps not at all.
    “Your feet must be freezing,” whispered his voice at her ear. His breath tickled the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
    She half-turned in the darkness. The heat from his face was so close she could almost see his lips just an inch from his. The memory of those lips pressed to hers stirred the latent fire building in her belly. She drew in a steadying breath. “The water doesn't bother me. Are you all right?”
    She heard the rustle of fabric and leather as he shrugged. “If you can withstand it, I can withstand it.”
    How very like a man. She laughed lightly. “I fear the water will only grow deeper for a bit. But we are getting close to...”
    The hand on her shoulder squeezed as her voice trailed off. “Closer to what?”
    She struggled for the words. The language of the water was nothing like the Segra tongue, or her native one. “I am not sure exactly.”
    His hand seemed to tense, and then gave her a light pat. “We shall have to continue on, then.”
    When the rising water reached her thighs, the song changed. The pitch of the water voices notched higher, more energetic, more beautiful. More deadly. The echo of the chamber also changed, grew deeper and quieter. Wider. The rushing feeling of the water smoothed out as the wall to Illista's left suddenly took a sharp turn. Joral's fingers tightened on her shoulder as though attempting to steady her.
    “Keep to the wall. It is still shallowest here.” Her voice echoed through the cavern and was swallowed by the far side of the water.
    She rubbed her eyes as something sparkled far off in the distance like a knife shearing through the blackness.
    “Is that light?” asked Joral.
    The water seemed to giggle, giddy with joy at the surprise that it had promised her. She and Joral sloshed along the wall toward the light, the floor slanting upwards so that soon they were on dry ground again.
    The water glowed an iridescent blue beneath the window to the sky far above them. The opening in the cave ceiling was large enough for a horse to be lowered through, and the welcome sunshine had brought life to the inky cave. Illista gasped at the fabric of flowered vines that trailed down from above.
    Joral stopped her from stepping directly under the slash of light with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”
    She turned. The light