The men have finally reached a huge river, teeming with naiads. He realizes the time is right to use his gift from the old naiad.
Revanth did as he was told. Kicking the fire out, he swung into his saddle, holding Alton’s horse by the reins. Alton took something from the bag, which looked like gravel. Holding it in his hand, he whispered a few words over it, casting it upon the water in as straight a line as he could. A low rumble began, which Revanth didn’t hear, but felt in his teeth. It grew louder, more insistent. As they watched, a line of flat, interlocking, hexagonal stones rose from the water. Stretching nearly halfway across the river, they provided a stable base to walk. The water rose quickly on the other side, but still coursed through the open half.
Alton sprang on his horse, kicking him to a…
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