I didn't hesitate.
The water was shallow enough that my boots hit the stone bottom before the water reached my waist. Three strides brought me to her.
She was thrashing, arms flailing above her head, gasping between gulps of pond water. Her eyes were wide with panic, all that careful composure shattered into pure animal terror.
"Azralyth…"
Her fist caught me square in the temple.
Stars exploded across my vision. I staggered, nearly went under myself, caught my balance just as she swung again. This time I caught her wrist.
"Stop…"
"Let go!" Another swing with her free hand. I caught that one too. "Azralyth, stop. You're…Daeude's blood…woman, stand up!"
The words finally penetrated her panic. She froze, chest heaving, water streaming down her face. Her golden eyes locked on mine, still wild with fear but with the faintest flicker of confusion breaking through.
"What?"
"Stand. Up." I loosened my grip on her wrists carefully, ready to catch her again if she went under. "The water's not even chest-deep."
She blinked. Looked down. Slowly, tentatively, she let her legs drop.
Her feet touched bottom.
The water came to just below her shoulders.
Silence stretched between us, broken only by her ragged breathing and the gentle lap of water against the pond's edge.
Her face went through several expressions in rapid succession. Shock, realization, embarrassment, and finally something that might have been mortification. She was still gripping my forearms, I realized. Her fingers dug in tight enough to leave marks.
"I..." She swallowed hard. "I can't swim."
"I gathered that." My temple throbbed where she'd hit me. I was going to have a spectacular bruise. "But if you can't swim, why in all the Daeude would you sit over the water? Did it not occur to you that you might fall in?"
"I only fell in because you startled me!" Her chin lifted, some of that familiar defiance returning even as she stood there soaked and shivering in a pond she could stand up in. Her auburn hair was even darker when wet, nearly the colour of a rose. "If you hadn't been lurking around making noise…"
"I slipped on moss."
"While lurking."
I stared at her. Water dripped from her hair into her eyes. Her borrowed dress clung to her like a second skin. She was still holding onto my arms like I was the only thing keeping her from drowning in three feet of water, and she was arguing with me.
This human was unlike any I'd ever known.
A calm silence settled over us as she held my gaze. For the briefest of moments, it felt like both an eternity and a heartbeat, over all too soon.
She gently cleared her throat and released me from her grasp. "I think we should probably get out."
I actually had to think about that for a moment as I stood there, close enough to breath her in, to smell the sweet nightbloom in her hair. To see the faint freckles that scattered over the bridge of her sweet nose. The shape her lips took when she spoke.
Get a hold of yourself! By the Daeude, I was in trouble.
I nodded. "That is probably a wise choice," I released her wrists and offered my hand instead, palm up. An invitation, not a demand.
She looked at my hand for a long moment. Then, slowly, she placed her fingers in mine.
I helped her wade to the edge, then pulled her up onto the grass. She stood there dripping, arms wrapped around herself, hair plastered to her skull. She looked miserable. Bedraggled. Absolutely furious with herself.
And still, somewhere in her eyes, that spark of humor remained. Fragile. Defiant. Alive.
"Not a word," she said. "Not one word about this to anyone."
"Lady Azralyth." I placed a hand over my heart with mock solemnity. "Your secret is safe with me."
"I mean it, Val'Rhayne. If you tell your brothers…"
"They'll never hear it from me." I paused. "Though mother will want to know to why her guest is soaked. And why I have a black eye."
She looked at me. Really looked at me. Then her mouth curved, just slightly, into something that might have been the beginning of a smile.
"You could tell her you walked into a tree."
"In the middle of the garden I've known for eight hundred years?"
"You slipped on moss earlier. Clearly you're having an off day."
When I laughed, her smile bloomed, and for a heartbeat the world felt lighter.
Then her eyes dropped. Her expression shifted.
"Oh no." She stared down at herself, hands going to the soaked fabric. "Daeude, no!"
The borrowed silk clung to her like paint, dripping steadily onto the grass. I turned away immediately, already tugging at the laces of my tunic.
"Here, take this…"
"I've ruined them." Her voice cracked with genuine distress. "The clothes your mother gave me, they're..I can't believe I…"
I blinked, confused.
"Azralyth, it's just water…"
"Just water? These are silk! Silk doesn't…" She made a frustrated sound. "Your mother was kind enough to give me these clothes, and I've destroyed them in less than two days because I fell in a pond like a complete fool."
I paused mid-struggle with my wet tunic, hearing the real anguish in her voice. She wasn't embarrassed about being soaked. She was devastated about ruining a gift.
"My mother," I said carefully, finally wrenching the linen over my head, "has an entire wardrobe she hasn't touched in two centuries. Trust me, she won't…"
"That's not the point." Her voice was tight. "She gave them to me. She was kind to me when she had no reason to be, and now…"
I held the tunic out behind me blindly, keeping my back turned. "She's going to care more that you're standing here arguing with me while soaking wet than about a dress that can be replaced."
A pause. Then her fingers brushed mine as she took the tunic, the touch brief and cold from the water.
"Thank you…" She trailed off. I heard her breath hitch behind me.
Shit.
"Where…" she hesitated. "Where did you get those scars? I thought the Val'Rhayne possessed great healing Power? What could have…"
I knew exactly what she was talking about. My brothers and I all bore these scars, two parallel lines running between our shoulder blades on either side of our spine. And for all our centuries, they refused to fade. "Well, evidently we don't heal so well after having our wings cut off."
The words came out lighter than I felt.
"By the Daeude..." Her voice was soft. Horrified. "Mikhael, I'm…"
"It was a long time ago." I kept my tone easy, dismissive. "Don't even remember it."
The lie tasted like ash.
If I thought about it, and I tried very hard not to, I could still feel the blade. The way it had cut through flesh and bone and something deeper than either. The way the world had felt smaller afterward, like something essential had been carved away along with the wings themselves.
Silence stretched between us. I could feel her staring at my back, at the evidence of what the God Kings did to keep their weapons bound.
"I'm sorry," she said finally. Quietly. "I shouldn't have…"
"You didn't know." I forced lightness back into my voice. "And honestly, after gave me a black eye, I think we're even."
A beat. Then: "I was drowning!"