The murky water stung her eyes as she frantically searched the riverbed. She couldn’t go home empty-handed again. She had to find something, anything, and the light was fading fast. She spotted a clearer opening upriver. She swam to the head of the green Glass River, where the freshest water spilled down the mountainside and created a waterfall. She searched the river floor through squinted eyes; not a rock to be found. Blast it. She needed rocks. Where there were rocks, there was gold. And she needed gold desperately. When the light disappeared at last, Ravena pushed out of the soft river grasses and propelled her lean body up and above the surface of the icy river.
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The old dance hall pulsed with rhythm; an aorta pumping sound, brass, and tempo through ancient floorboards. She sat alone, barely present. Eight o’ clock had come and gone hours ago, and Sam hadn’t come. But she’d known he wouldn’t, didn’t she? He’d promised this time. When would she learn? She cursed for letting herself hope… again.
“You don’t have to keep holding that!” The voice of an old friend jolted her out of her reverie.
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He swung the green rambler off the opposite side of the road and threw it into ‘park.’ A deep silence had settled over the reservoir. He scanned the marshland. No movement. Though the sun had dipped below the horizon well over an hour ago, the air was stiflingly hot. Titus wiped his forehead with his sleeve and raised dusty binoculars to eye level.
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