Excerpt:
Kyarra had plenty of time to think about what Lady Shaiala had told her, sitting on a rock at the edge of the pool above the waterfall. She'd donated her boots to Jilian and dipped her bare toes in the water, which was pleasantly warm. Trees brushed its surface with their leaves, and feathery purple flowers reflected in its depths. The water moved lazily around her blisters, soothing them, and dappled sunlight fell across her back. In different circumstances, she'd have enjoyed the chance to rest. But every bubble in the river and every rustle in the undergrowth made her stiffen. Although she knew her friends and the centaurs were hiding nearby, ready to rush out and camouflage her with their herdstones if the wild quetzal or the painted men should show up again, the knowledge did nothing to calm her.

"I have to see him," she whispered to the river. "I have to find out."

What if Frazhin had been lying about the cure? Worse still, what if the cure worked but her mother really was as evil as Lady Shaiala claimed? What would she do then?

She shook the worry away and blinked at the pool. The light was turning golden-brown as the sun slipped lower. The only things plopping in the river were fish. This wasn't going to work. A felling of relief washed over her, followed by anger at her own cowardice.

She closed her eyes and filled her lungs. "FATHER!" she shouted, sending a cloud of small birds whirling up from the canopy. "Fa-ther! I'm he-re! Come and get me-e-e!"

Silence followed her shout. The forest seemed to be listening for more. Shadows breathed across the back of her neck. She heard a twig snap behind her and whirled in alarm.

Hunts Like Spider stood there, his small body painted with gold and green whorls, a half-length spear pointed at her. He grinned. "I knew you came upriver! Centaurs careful, but have too many hooves to hide. Where are your friends?"

Kyarra froze. She glanced over her shoulder at the pool.

The boy's teeth flashed white in the shadows. "Come away from the water—dangerous, remember? Our Xiancotl sees a bad future for you if you go to the Lord of the Forest. He says to remember your Songs do not work properly on the dark ones."

Kyarra looked behind the boy, where green glimmers showed between the trees. Suddenly, a foot flew out of the green light and kicked the spear from his hand. Hunts Like Spider dropped to one knee with a surprised yelp, cradling his wrist. A hand appeared from the air, seized his arm and dragged hum upward, still kicking and yelling.

Kyarra jumped to her feet. "What do you mean, our Songs don't work on the dark ones? What does your Xiancotl know about it? Lady Shaiala, wait! He said—"

She didn't have time to finish. A long, snake-like tail whipped out of the pool and fastened itself around her waist. She screamed, struggling against it. "No, not now! Wait!" The tail tightened and pulled with alarming strength. Green-scaled hands closed about her ankles and jerked. She lost her balance and her knees cracked painfully on the rock. The next thing she knew, she was in the river fighting for breath.

More scaled hands tightened on her arms and legs. Tails thrashed everywhere. She was tangled in weed—no, it was hair, slimy green hair. A scaled face pushed up close to hers and smiled, revealing two rows of shiny, sharp teeth.

She started to scream again, to tell Shaiala and Jilian she'd changed her mind, but the naga had already dragged her underwater in to the main flow of the river. She kicked desperately as the light disappeared in a muddy swirl of bubbles. She couldn't breathe, no longer knew which way was up or down. She sucked in river water, began to drown…Scaled lips pressed against hers, and suddenly her mouth was full of air. She gasped and struggled again. The naga who had given her air withdrew and wriggled back through the gloom to the surface, while the others held Kyarra in the depths.

Fast. They were going so fast through the water, it roared in her ears, blinded her, filled her.

Another mouthful of air from another naga—or maybe the same one. Some of the panic left her. They were keeping her alive, after all. But down here in the depths, she was completely in their power, dependent upon the mouthfuls of air they gave her every time she thought her lungs would burst. The time between mouthfuls was longer when she struggled. She gave up and let them pull her along, every limb slack. Maybe if they thought she was dying, they would give her more air?

She wasn't sure how long that terrifying underwater journey lasted. But at some point, the river darkened and grew noticeably warmer. She became aware of splashing all around her . . . a distant rumble . . . more air blown into her mouth . . . then a hot draft against her skin. The scaled bodies left her, slithering back into the water with echoing plops. And she was coughing and coughing as if she would never stop, crouched on her hands and knees on rough, dark rock while the dark water streamed from her.

Kyarra thought she'd never be able to breathe properly again. But, eventually, the last of the water choked out of her lungs and she raised her head, able to think again about more that where her next breath was coming from.

She was in a huge, black-rock cavern filled with smoke. Behind her was the underground lack from which she'd emerged, slightly luminous, casting green ripples around the walls. The hot drafts indicated tunnels, though she couldn't see them in the shadows. And in the center of the cavern, still as a statue on his crystal throne, sat the man she'd seen in the Memory Trance watching her through the holes in his mask.

"So, my naga have brought me a jewel worth something, at last," he rasped in a voice that sent prickles along Kyarra's spine. "I must say I thought you would be bigger. Such a small, fragile thing to give everyone so much trouble. Well then, Daughter, get up and greet your father properly. Let's see what damage the Singers have done."