This was cruel . Crueler now that Isabel had figured out the fate planned for them.
Isabel, be quiet. Oriana used her voice to call Isabel, the one magic she possessed. She wove the imperative into her wordsnot a spell like a human witch might use, but simple desire, yearning . It would have been more successful with a human male, but she could hold almost any humans attention for a few minutes, and even prompt her to action. The magic drew Isabels
gaze to her and, although she didnt think Isabel could see her, it forced Isabel to focus on her words. Oriana hoped she could buy them some time. Isabel, bend forward as far as you can, she ordered. Right before the water gets to your nose, take a deep breath and hold it.
Isabels ragged breathing was interspersed with sobs, but she obediently bent forward, her dark head almost touching the table.
Oriana prayed that would be enough. She set her teeth back to the rope. It gave suddenly, and she yanked it with her mouth. It had been wrapped around several times, so she had to pull each loop loose. Chilly water touched the back of her head. Cold fingers of water spread along the back of her housemaids costume, grasped her shoulders, climbed up her garments.
It reached her mouth, and she took it in. Her gills opened involuntarily and her throat closed, stealing her voice. She breathed in the familiar water of the Douro River as she dragged her arm free of the loops of rope.
No! The rope holding her other arm hadnt loosened at all. They were separate ropes. She would have to chew through each one individually. She tore at her shirtsleeve, but her wrist was tied too tightly to get her dagger loose, not until she could get that hand free.
There was no time. Oriana didnt want to look, but she couldnt stop herself.
Across from her in the darkness, Isabels eyes were stricken in the pale oval of her face. The water had nearly reached her waist. Oriana didnt know how long Isabel had been holding her breath, waiting to be rescued.
If she could just reach Isabel, she could breathe for her. Oriana jerked against the rope trapping her left arm, but it didnt give an inch. She tried to shove the ropes binding her chest down to her waist, but they tangled in the fabric of her apron.
Isabels bow-shaped lips opened. A flood of bubbles streamed from her mouth, the last of her breath. Her body jerked convulsively against the ropes that bound her to the chair. Her eyes were wide with terror.
Unable to reach her, Oriana pounded her free hand on the surface of the table, setting off painful vibrations through her webbing. She wanted to scream. She wanted to beg Isabels forgiveness. But her voice was gone underwater. She reached out her throbbing hand and laid it over Isabels fingers. What could she do?
She couldnt sing underwater, but she could hum. Oriana wove a call into the tune to comfort Isabel, using her memories of an old lullaby her father had sung to shape the sound. It was all she had to give.
Isabels expression eased, the fear in her eyes fading.
Then she was still.
Orianas song faltered to a stop, and soundless sobs shook her body. The water had stolen her ability to cry. She could taste Isabels death in the water, the sudden tang of a voided bladderloss of control along with the loss of life. Oriana tugged the silk mitt off her hand with her teeth and spread her fingers wide, stretching the webbing between them. She could feel the vibration of her own heartbeat.
From Isabel there was nothing.
And then a glow crept across the surface of the table between them, almost like blood flowing from a wound. Letters imprinted on the surface gave off a pallid light, forming words that made no sense to Orianas eyes. A ring of words circled the tables edge. Inside that was another ring of nonsense symbols, shapes she didnt recognize, and in the center a third ring held a collection of straight lines. The glow crept to the center of the small table and then stopped as if it had hit a wall.
The table had come alive in response to Isabels death.
Oriana looked back at her friend. She tried to touch Isabels face. Her fingers fell short, so she grasped Isabels hand again, as if Isabel could still feel her there. Isabels head began to sway loosely with the motion of the water, a single strand of hair floating past her open mouth and snagging against her lips.
Oriana squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look any longer.
She didnt know how long she stayed like that, trembling against the ropes that bound her. The water continued to rise about her. It swallowed her legs. The cold seeped into her tight-laced shoes.
Then the last of the air slipped out of the room and the whole thing began sinking quickly, some anchor drawing it down. The pressure of the water made the wood groan. Then it came to a stop, far gentler than that first slam into the surface of the water. Now that the room was flooded, they should sink to the bottom of the river, but for some reason they continued to float.