The River of Souls

"I have to clean myself,” said Matthew when the smell of the dried gore on his face became stronger and the swarm of insects more maddening. Still, he resisted putting his hand over the side or even cupping water in his half-crushed tricorn, for his torchlight revealed here and there the slowly-gliding shapes of the alligators yet seeking another bite of the human breed. “Will you guide us to shore for a minute?” he asked Magnus, who after a pause to deliberate this request nodded and aimed their boat toward the northern bank. As soon as he’d asked the favor, Matthew recalled Granny Pegg saying Keep your boat in the middle of the river. But surely a minute’s pause on the shore for him to wash his face in shallow water would not bring a curse down upon his head, he thought, and anyway it had to be done. There were lights of boats both ahead of them and behind; Matthew figured he and Magnus were probably somewhere near the center of the floating carnival, and so far there’d been no shouts of anyone finding an abandoned boat, no gunshots, and no answer when Magnus called for Griffin Royce and Joel Gunn.