Cordelia had thought the only way to get to her mother’s lake was to swim directly into the river’s current. The dragon goby sunk, surfaced, hugged one bank, then another. They hadn’t gone far, although there had been many turns to find paths that were less difficult, until there was a split in the river. The one path was obviously shallower, murkier, but that was the direction her guide went.
“This was once part of the river, but it flows this way no longer. It is in places like these that you can rest.”
He was right. The ceaseless tug of the current was absent here. Cordelia sank to the muddy bottom and stretched out.