Iylaine wants to go up

It had not been difficult for Malcolm to find Iylaine and bring her back to land. Her pale body had glowed like moonlight in the dark water, and she had not sunk to the unseen bottom but only drifted near the surface, still far closer to the air than to the deep earth.

He had a more difficult time bringing her back to life.

He had seen a drowned boy pulled from the river once, and now he saw again the signs: the lolling head, the limp and heavy limbs, and the water that ran from the slack, blue lips.

But it was from Norsemen that he had learned how to save a drowned man. One had to work quickly to drain the water from the lungs and breathe the breath back into them, but he worked quickly, for it seemed to him his own life depended on it.

Despite his faith in the advice of Eirik and Tryggve, it was nevertheless God he thanked when she finally choked and spluttered and sat up. She was alive, though she seemed dazed.

Malcolm crushed her against his body, more terrified now than ever before, and began chattering at her in Gaelic, telling her things he never remembered afterwards.

“What happened?” she asked in voice made oddly husky from breathing water.

“You went down, you stupid girl!”

“Oh. It was not very dark,” she mumbled as if slightly confused.

“Stupid!” He tried to squeeze her again, but she struggled away and stood.

“Now I want to go up,” she said solemnly and looked up.

“Go up where?”

Now that he had calmed enough to look at her with other than terror, he realized that, damp, her thin shift was scarcely more than nothing at all. It did not merely hint at her slender body, but clung to it, and its translucence was like a fog of breath on a chilly window.

In spite the cold and the terror and the relief – or perhaps in part because of it – he was transfixed by a sudden desire for her. Again it seemed to him that his life depended on it: not only on making her live, but making her live for him. She was beautiful as a wild creature, but he would have to tame her. He could not wait two years. She could run away from him at any time.

“Up to the cave,” she said.

He had already nearly forgotten what he had asked. He shook his head to clear it. “What cave?” He pulled his eyes away from her body and looked up with her.

“The cave up there,” she said.

“There’s nothing but rocks up there, Babe. Baby, come here…”

“There’s a cave,” she droned. “We can go up the rocks, or we can go around the long way to the top. It’s easier from the top. But you can’t find the entrance unless you’re looking for it.”

Malcolm, the young man who loved secrets, was curious about the cave, and his mind began considering the idea. But Malcolm, the young man who loved Iylaine, was only interested in her, and his eyes and his hands and all the rest of his body went after her.

She started and turned to him as soon as he touched her. Her eyes were panicked and confused, as if he had just awoken her from sleep.

She had nearly drowned, and in his mind he knew he ought to take her home, but all the rest of his body wanted to reassure itself that all the rest of her body was still intact.

“I’m cold,” she said as he embraced her.

It was certain that her wet shift was doing more to chill her than to keep her warm. If only she would take it off! But there was no place to sit on this steep bank, much less lay her down.

“Let’s go up onto the big rock and I shall make you a fire,” he murmured against her cheek. It was a rock, to be sure, but he wanted to stay here near the dark water, the dark stones, the bright moon, her bright body. Here he had nearly lost her, and here he would bind her to himself. Her clothing and his spread out upon the rock would make a soft enough bed if he was gentle with her.

“Aye, a fire!” she said and tried to squirm away from him.

She was a strong-​​limbed girl, but he had the lingering superhuman strength of a man who has acted to save a life. Added to that was the strength granted him by his desire, which was only increased as he tried to hold the lovely creature that struggled in his arms.

She might not have escaped him, but he was so startled by a sudden burst of heat and light that he let go of her and nearly stumbled into the water. There had been a pile of dead wood and leaves and other debris that had collected at the base of the rock where the sloping shore began, but it was now all ablaze.

“Baby!” he gasped.

“A fire,” she repeated.

“Did you do that?”

“Aye,” she said simply.

“The devil!” He forgot everything before this spectacle.

“I did light that lamp when you saw me,” she giggled proudly. “Remember?”

“When I was ill?”

“Aye.”

“The devil you did! Baby!”

“It’s not magic. It’s simply the fire that’s in the wood.”

“It’s simply the devil that’s in this Baby!”

She laughed and threw her arms about his shoulders. Now her wet shift was a relief to his scorched skin.

He sighed and pressed his cheek against her damp hair. She was magnificent. Malcolm’s mind was already busy plotting what could be done with a girl who had the ability to set fires at a distance.

“What shall I ever do with this devil-​​Baby with the fire inside?” he lamented.

“Handle her with care!” she laughed.