Saturday, September 24, 2005

   Chapter 8: Down the Acheron River (part 3)
The boats for the University Caravan stood ready at the far south side of the port. They were small, five-person, shell-shaped pieces carved from the trunks of large trees. There must have been fifty or more of them in the harbor, each supplied with a pair of paddles, a length of rope, and a small metal bucket.
“Everyone grab your roomate and get in a boat!” yelled Contra over the chatter of the excited kids. They did as he told; Lucifer and Pen—with Sasheeta sitting on his shoulder—sat down in the one farthest out in the river. Each of the soldiers got a boat to themselves, and several of them even tied an extra to the back of their’s for the other children that they would be picking up along the way.
“Okay you guys,” started Panda. “We stick together! Always stay with the group and stay on the right side of the river unless we tell you otherwise. Other than that, just have fun!”
The ropes holding the boats to the harbor untied themselves by magic and curled themselves up. This was greeted by panic from some and glee from others.
“Sir, you’re not going to tell us how to drive these things?” cried an orange-haired boy.
“What’s the use?” Panda chuckled. “You learn from experience. The current will do a lot of the work for you; the rest you need to learn by yourself.”
Lucifer and Pen had both already picked up paddles and taken up places at opposite sides of the boat. The little shell was light and responded easily to their strokes. Before long, they had reached the far side of the Acheron, where Lucifer suggested that they stop and wait for the others. They let the current slowly wash them downstream, watching the kids as they figured out how to use the paddles. Some, like Lucifer and Pen, had no trouble at all, whereas others struggled. Pen noticed that Tory and her lavender-haired friend nearly capsized and hit the boat of another.
Before long, however, they had all sorted themselves out and were steadily paddling down the river. Contra lead the group—Akana was nowhere in sight—and Panda, as usual, flew above on Keion.
After an hour of off-and-on paddling, Pen could tell that Sasheeta was getting bored by their shared silence. She sighed loudly into his ear. When he did not respond, she started nibbling on his shirt.
“What do you want?” he asked, trying not to sound too angry.
“I’m bored. Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” seeing that the group ahead had started slowing down, he stopped paddling and balanced the paddle across the smaller part of boat, so that his hands were free. The dragon clampered down his arm and sat inside his crossed legs.
“Tell me a story,” she said.
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