Free Call the Rain by Kristi Lea Page B

from above dropped shadows beneath his eyes and the water’s reflection cast a moving glow across his face.
    “We don't know what is up there. Or who.” His eyes raked over her, lingering for half a heartbeat too long on her chest before rising back to her face, his jaw clenched. He dropped his hand to his side where it fisted into a tight ball.
    Illista's sodden skirts clung to her legs, dragging the neckline of her garment downward. The Waki-sized stays beneath did little to hide, let alone support, her human-sized body, and the overdress hung precariously low across her breastbone. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her forearms as though the chills she felt were due to the cold cave air.
    She glanced up at the sunlight above her. “There is no way up anyway. The longest vines are far out of our reach.”
    The ground had developed a thin layer of soil, reclaimed from the plant life of the surface. Joral kicked at it, scattering a few fallen twigs. “Everything here is too wet for a fire.”
    Illista glanced at the rushing river. “The water must flow towards something. It cannot simply disappear into the earth. There must be an outlet.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Then we should keep walking. It must be well past midday already.”
    They retreated towards the banks of the river again. Joral’s long shadows dwarfed Illista’s, but he didn’t touch her again until the light had dissolved into blackness. The weight of his hand at her shoulder was like an anchor among the chatter from the water. He kept her grounded and aware of her human body as they walked.
    After countless more minutes, another needleprick of light appeared ahead of them. With an unspoken agreement, they quickened their steps until they were nearly directly below. This one was far above the center of the water. Stalactites poured from the ceiling like tears of rock that puddle into the rushing river below. More iridescent flashes swirled beneath the pool of light. Fish or eels or other creatures. One shape, as large as a man, disappeared into the shadows as quickly as it had appeared.
    Illista shivered. There was no way to know what such a creature would eat in the darkness of the cave. She was grateful that she had not given into the temptation to swim. Grateful that she had not found out whether it would eat her. Grateful for Joral keeping her feet on solid ground.
    “We keep going. If there are two such lights, there must be more.” His whisper tickled the hair above her ears.
    For what seemed like hours, they passed a dozen or more tiny cracks in the roof above their heads, all too high or too far out of reach. Some were no more than star-like dots above them, some nearly as large as the first. Some wept flowers, some rock, some dripped water as though fed by a creek on the surface.
    The tune of the water changed, too. It was subtle and Illista could not hear from a single footstep to the next that there was anything different. But every few minutes she would notice that the sound had changed, like the humming of a minstrel as he warmed up. Or the howl of the wind as a storm approached.
    They rounded a corner to find the cavern burning with a fiery glow. The water rushed around the turns of the cave walls, swirling into dervishes that spun and sputtered and crashed into each other and the walls and splashed Illista and Joral's with a fine cold spray. Stalactites jutted from the ceiling and the floor, meeting in the middle like the teeth of some great beast. The red-gold lights of the setting sun poured across the water from a wide opening at the far end of the cavern.
    “We found it.”
    ***
    The mouth of the cave was low to the surface of the water. As Joral and Illista climbed around the outer edge of the cavern towards it, the setting sun outside began to fade. Within fewer minutes than he would have guessed possible, the light was all but gone and the cave drowned in shadows.
    They walked as far as they could until the path in