CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: The Dancer in the Drowning Place

The forest grew quieter the deeper they walked, branches hanging low, slick with mist that clung to the skin like breath from something too close. The path was broken here — old trails split apart by roots that had swallowed bones, leaving only hints of what once passed through.

At the heart of it all, the water followed them. Even where no streams should be, droplets clung to leaves and bark, tiny rivulets tracing paths down the trunks, sliding toward Liora like the whole forest was sweating in her presence.

She didn't walk so much as glide, her bare feet never quite sinking into the dirt. Every step caused the glyphs on her skin to flicker — no longer simple spirals, but living things, shifting shapes that looked almost… hungry.

Ranga, of course, was right beside her.

"You notice that?" he asked, trying for casual, though his fingers were tight around his spear. "The water — it's following you."

Liora didn't look down. "It knows me."

"Knows you how?" Ranga leaned closer, his shoulder brushing hers. "Knows you like, 'Hey, there's my old friend Liora'? Or knows you like, 'That's the girl who's gonna drown the world if we blink wrong'?"

Her smile was faint, but her eyes — her eyes were somewhere else. Somewhere deep. "Both."

That should've scared him. Should've made him step back. But Ranga was born without the part of his brain that knew when to quit.

"Well, good thing I'm Chidawo now," he said, puffing out his chest slightly. "Hyenas aren't scared of getting wet."

Tafara, trailing a few steps behind, muttered, "Hyenas don't know how to shut up either."

Liora's gaze flicked toward Ranga, and for a second — just a heartbeat — her smile turned warmer. Softer. "You're not scared of anything, are you?"

Ranga's grin came back instantly. "Nah. What's fear to a legend?"

But beneath the bluster, a different voice whispered in his chest — the voice of his Hyena spirit, the Chidawo bond still new, still settling into his bones. And even that spirit, born of scavenger's hunger and wild laughter, felt the weight of the water that moved around Liora.

Even the Hyena knew to fear the tide.

They stopped at the edge of a sinkhole, the earth dropping suddenly into a circular pit, its edges slick with mud and veined with thin streams of water. At the center, a pool sat still — black, perfectly still, like the surface of a blade waiting to cut.

Nyeredzi stood at the edge, her silver eye flickering. "This place was never on the map."

"It's not a place," Liora said softly, stepping past her. "It's a memory."

Kael's voice was low, cautious. "Whose?"

Liora knelt, her fingertips skimming the air just above the pool. The glyphs on her arms unwound, sliding down her skin, some of them dripping off her fingers into the water below. The surface didn't ripple. It swallowed them whole, like the pool was tasting her in return.

"Mine," she said. "And hers."

The air shifted. The trees around them leaned inward, like even the forest wanted to see what came next.

"Who's 'her'?" Ranga asked, stepping closer, his usual bravado softened by something — not fear, exactly. Something more personal. Concern. Maybe something even softer than that.

Liora's breath caught, her head tilting slightly, like she was hearing a voice just beyond hearing. "Manjuzu."

Kael's jaw clenched. Dendera's grip on his shield tightened. Even Tafara, usually ready with some smart-ass comment, said nothing.

The name hung there — Manjuzu — spirit of drowning places, goddess of tides that never gave back what they took. Not a totem. Not a guardian. Something older, something without mercy or malice — just need.

"She's not a monster," Liora said, her voice low, almost tender. "She's a question."

"What kind of question?" Ranga asked.

Liora's gaze flicked up, and this time, Ranga saw something beneath the surface of her eyes — something rippling behind the brown, like there was no bottom to her gaze anymore.

"The kind that only answers when you're already underwater."

Without warning, the pool surged upward, water twisting into a tall, faceless figure, its edges constantly melting and reforming. A dancer made of liquid, its body never the same twice, spinning without rhythm, moving without pause.

The spirit of Manjuzu wasn't attacking.

It was dancing with her.

Liora stood, the glyphs along her body shifting to match the spirit's movements — her curves widening, narrowing, her skin darkening, lightening, her shape rewriting itself to match the beat of something older than music.

Ranga should've stepped back. Should've let Kael handle this. But instead, he planted both spears into the mud and stepped between Liora and the water-dancer.

"She's not yours," he said, voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "Whatever you want from her — you go through me first."

The spirit paused, head tilting, its faceless form folding into a new shape — a Hyena's grin, wide and sharp, laughing without sound.

"Ranga," Liora said softly, her hand brushing his back, light as rain. "It's not here to take me."

"Then what—"

"It's here to remind me who I am."

The spirit twisted again, reshaping into Liora's reflection, only this version was taller, sharper, her curves exaggerated, her skin glowing with silver lines instead of black.

Ranga's breath caught.

"I don't need reminding," Liora said, stepping past Ranga, her form shifting mid-step — her body flickering between who she was and who the spirit wanted her to be. "I've never forgotten."

The water figure reached for her, but Liora's hand passed through it, and for a moment, her fingers became liquid too — her whole arm briefly part of the spirit before pulling back, solid once more.

"I'm not yours," Liora whispered to the water.

The spirit rippled. Shifted.

Then sank back into the pool without a sound.

The forest held its breath. The Bloodbound stood silent.

Only Ranga moved, stepping beside Liora, his fingers brushing hers — just once, just a touch, like an anchor against the current.

"You okay?" he asked, voice softer than anyone had ever heard from him.

Liora didn't answer right away. The glyphs along her spine slowly stilled, their constant movement finally quieting.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm still me."

Ranga grinned, even if it was a little shaky. "Good. 'Cause I still plan to impress the hell out of you."

Liora's laugh was soft, but real.

And for now, that was enough.