by Opal Edgar
“Wait!” I yelled. “You didn’t tell me where the sword is!”
“We do not know,” Poseidon said. “We felt it in our ocean for a time, for 100, or perhaps 500 years, we cannot tell, time slips away so fast. One day we did not feel the sword in our flank anymore. Someone freed it from our clasp. We no longer own it.”
The current dropped a little, but remained there in the background to tell me that my time was counted. In an instant I would be swept out to sea, as unwanted as the mask-woman.
“But where was the sword before it disappeared?”
“In the pool were the Styx lies dormant.”
“What?”
“And tell Captain Pieterson that his offerings barely cover the affront he affixes to our sacred name. If he continues his insults, even the most pleasant of meals will not appease our anger and his ship will count amongst the sacrifices.”
Water rushed past me as Poseidon looked away. He wasn’t interested anymore. But I still had something to do. I held onto the column as my feet were off the ground again. Tiny fish zipped past my face. My fingers slowly drew apart. I couldn’t hold on for much longer.
“Okay, fine! But Elise, she wants to see her mum. She hasn’t talked to her in—” I tried to continue, but no sound came out.
The salt water sloshed in my mouth, making me gag. I couldn't talk. I tried to yell, feeling the heat rise in my face. A glint appeared in Poseidon’s palm. It rolled along the curve of his hand, tiny and white. He had taken his sacrifice: Varhoura’s pearl. Admittedly, shutting me up was a smart way of ending the whole thing. But had he heard me? Did he care? I couldn’t do anything anymore, but I didn’t want to let go.
I wanted Elise to see her mum again. The water rushed faster. Millimetre by millimetre my fingers unlaced from the column. Varhoura made a little head bobbing movement: maybe a goodbye or good luck gesture, maybe just some hair in her face. My skin slid along the ice, and I was gone.
I flew out the door as fast as the mask-woman. Out of the castle, past villages, seaweed fields, shallow rifts and underwater volcanoes. I tried to pull out of the current but it was too strong. I tried to dog-paddle, and a turtle laughed at me as I kept being whisked away.
A huge shadow broke over my head. And that’s when the current decided to stop and become a tornado round me, trapping me in place. I was in trouble.
Chapter 7
What Is a Soul?
I fought the whirlpool with all my strength, but nothing worked. The shadow crept closer, always growing, encompassing an always wider area of coral. The terrified polyps withered, and their tentacles withdrew into their bodies. Sea worms retreated to their holes. The whole fauna scattered faster than threatened rabbits. I tugged my head lower, ground my teeth, bunched my muscles and desperately paddled. Nothing worked.
A claw grazed the back of my neck. I screamed, utterly silent. It lifted me up by the collar of my jacket. The current let it. I wiggled and felt the fabric tear, but I wasn’t fast enough. Already the hook had ripped me out of the waves, hoisting me past a wooden mermaid on a proud prow topped by black open sails, ashen wood and hoisted nets. The Burning Lady Elisheba!
Captain Pieterson’s skeletal hand appeared over the railing for me to grab. No choice. I tumbled onboard shivering and numb. The blanket he held out was soft and warm. I latched onto it and didn’t let go.
“So, greedy Poseidon spat you out, did he, the old purse snatcher? My daughter was worried about you. She fretted so much that the crew and captives went into hiding again,” he said. “Yet you come back empty handed.”
I looked at my suit dripping profusely under the blanket. The whole talking to the God of the sea thing had been a disaster. I was even further from finding the sword than when the mission had been announced to me. The sword could be anywhere in the whole of the afterlife world. Everywhere except the ocean, obviously. I guess that was something.
“In my time, young men leaped in the defence of women, took up their causes and braved any dangers for them. You are making my daughter cry and you didn’t even bring back her mother. Do you know how long she has been waiting to see her?”
He was right to be angry. I’d barely tried getting her mum, only mentioning her like an afterthought. That was lousy of me. I’d stuffed up. Captain Pieterson pulled his sabre out of its sheath. It made a lovely singing noise as it slipped out. He gracefully pointed it at my chest, like a dance move, you could almost forget how sharp it was. I frowned and pushed the damned skewer away with my finger. I was getting angry too.
“Really? Elise is upset, and you want to fight? That’s the best thing you can think of! Keeping her in that state!” I exclaimed. “Where is she?”
“Well you’ve got guts,” he growled, not moving one step.
Gritting my teeth, I stalked away towards the cabin the mask-woman had rested on. So that was the type of man her father was, putting his pride in front of his daughter. I broke into a jog, this boat was bigger than I remembered. I needed to show Elise I was fine. The captain could carve me to bits as much as he wanted AFTER she dried her tears. I just hoped she didn’t blame herself for what had happened to me. Because now I thought about it, the masked power thief had told Poseidon she wanted “the boy”. This did not look like a random attack at all. It was staged. The mask probably wasn’t even a victim from the island, like I’d thought. And she had specifically attacked me.
But why? Why had two kinds of power thieves, rather scary people when you knew about them, decided to eat me? I froze in front of the cabin door. It made no sense. How could I have already gathered enemies, seconds after dying?
The captain stepped in front of the door, blocking my way. He looked me up and down. I got ready to resist the attack, one arm up protecting my face and one hand extended forwards to push whatever was coming my way.
“Hmm … I guess you couldn’t answer her calls to reassure her,” he said. His sabre returned to his hip. He knocked on the door, bare knuckle bones resounding against the wood. Then, he pulled a big gold pocket watch out of his waistcoat and waited for the second hand to do a complete turn. He nodded with satisfaction, swept his hat to his breast and pushed the door open.
I looked in from the threshold. There wasn’t much inside, only a bed, a chest and a large painting of a country house covered in ivy. The room was so tiny that even this furniture cramped the simple room. It was like being back home, except there was no ugly wallpaper, just waxed planks.
Elise lay on the bed, hands clasped on her chest. A crateful of things rested on her dress by her feet. I shivered. I could pretend it was the wet clothes, but there was something terrifying about her pale, pale skin and eerie stillness. Like this, she really did look dead. I wanted to shake Elise until I was sure she could breathe. I wanted to fling the door wide open, let the wind rip her out of bed and the sea-spray wash the sleep away. I wanted—
Captain Pieterson walked to her side. He dropped to his knees and whispered her name into her ear.
Like that would work.
I stalked in. The dead needed more to rouse them. Closer, I saw that her cheeks glistened, wet with tears.
“Please say you didn’t get in this state for me!” I exclaimed.
It was like a bolt of lightning had struck her. She met my eyes. A blink and she was on her feet, half a blink and she was across the room, a quarter of a blink and she was in my arms. She buried her face in my drenched and shockingly ugly brown suit. I held her awkwardly, in a distant hug. I had managed to jam my arm between us so she wouldn’t get soaked.
“Sir Tosho! You’re dead!”
Not exactly something you often hear people get excited about.
“You’re still dead! Oh that’s such a relief! I thought the worst had happened, I thought the mask had taken all the power out of your body and your soul had departed, and that you were gone for another life journey, and it was all my fault because I couldn’t protect you from my father’s enemies …” She didn’t need to take a breath, so
it just went on. “… Or maybe it was one of mine? I have so many beasts after me and I never got to warn you and I’m so frightened of water. I couldn’t get in, and …”
The words were pouring out of her. I didn’t know how to patch the leak. My head spun a little, Elise was warm and smelt like lily of the valley. I’d never held a woman who wasn’t a relative before. And she certainly didn’t have a peg leg threatening to crush my toes. I patted her on the back. I was steaming.
“’Tis such a relief!”
“I’m blimey-O-supa-astronomic,” I said.
The world paused for a second. I mentally slapped myself. Elise lifted her beautiful blue eyes to look into my face … and exploded in laughter. She stumbled backwards and the tension eased.
It was good to be alive ... dead. I meant dead. You know what I meant! She straightened her crazy princess dress. It was so huge I wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten through the doorway.
“How did you come back?” she asked.
“Poseidon did it.”
“’Twas lucky. Was he the help you were hoping for?”
“It was a failure,” I said.
“’Tis an untruth. You are not of the merpeople, despite meeting the God of the sea, and you are still dead. I was worried when you weren’t answering any of my calls.”
We stood for a moment in silence. Captain Pieterson got his gold watch back out and it ticked the seconds. I had almost forgotten about him. Was he timing the awkwardness?
“How could you call me?” I suddenly wondered. “I mean, do they have telephones in the afterlife?”
Both stared blankly. They had no idea what a phone was. I mimed, described and even drew a little picture, but it didn’t help. I hadn’t seen any phone wires anywhere so I’d have been surprised.
“’Tis when you sleep that you can communicate,” Elise explained.
“I was told not to sleep, that it was dangerous,” I said.
She nodded thoughtfully. “Wise. You are an undead with very little power. If you sleep for long, ’tis possible you might not have the energy to wake up again.”
“But if I wanted to talk to you, hypothetically, I could sleep and what? You’d know I was asleep?”
“I’ll show you.” She smiled.
She took my hand and sat on the bed. This dragged me down into a crouch between the wall and the pirate chest. The hard corner of the chest poked into my back, but only for a second. The cabin melted round us. I expected to fall into the sea again, but the floor had turned to soft grass. We were in a clearing surrounded by wispy cattails taller than me.
“Where are we?”
“Inside me,” Elise said. “This is what I see when I sleep.”
In the centre of the clearing was a tall tree with drooping white lilies hanging from its branches. Elise led me to it. The bark was light ash and velvety like river birch trees. Two eyes opened on the trunk. I jumped backwards. The eyes were the same dark blue as Elise’s. A knot in the wood widened into a crimson smile. The branches flapped and widened in a lazy stretch.
“My soul.” Elise introduced.
I stared. That? Merlin was some kind of weed inside of me?
“Does yours talk? Mine’s a nasty blabbermouth. Though I think he’s sulking at the moment,” I said.
“I beg your pardon,” the tree said. “What did you call me?
I jumped backwards with a start and profusely apologised. A rumble ran through the ground. We wobbled as the roots shifted. Elise hid a smile behind her hand before turning away. I had the distinct impression the tree was laughing at me.
“Souls might be all connected, but, Baruch Hashem, that doesn’t mean we’re all the same! Though, if Elise needs to speak to another soul: I get its attention.”
Elise walked forwards tracing the edge of the peeling bark skin with her fingers, she added, “For example, right now I’d like to call the attention of my friend, Sir Alpheus, back home.”
The tree shook a little ... and exploded into flames! I leaped at Elise. We rolled on the grass until we hit the cattails. I shielded her, spreading my arms and holding my hideous jacket open. I expected the wool to curl and fizzle in fetid smoke, but I didn’t even feel the heat of the fire on the back of my hands. I chanced a glance over my shoulder. Elise rolled away laughing.
I blinked. The blaze was higher than me, and pure white in the centre. Inside were leaping flickers of gold and red. For a second I saw something in the flames. Something like eyes. I shook my head. Those things where like clouds: you saw what you wanted, but the impression of beady eyes persisted. It was as if they had a piercing gaze of their own. I frowned. I wasn’t imagining things. Each flame was a cat, and each spark was a little paw or a twitching nose. Fire cats? Was this even a thing?
“’Tis simply Sir Alpheus’s soul, Sir Tosho, there is nothing to fear,” Elise said, humour still twinkling in her eyes. “And please refrain from throwing me in the dirt, it seems you are much fonder of the ground than I am.”
Mortified, I threw my arms backwards so my great useless paws remained far away from her. Oblivious to the grass stains on her sleeves, she walked to the fire cat soul. Apparently, not everyone had a tree inside of them. Merlin had to be something much more obnoxious.
“Sir Alpheus, may we come home? I found Sir Tosho, and I believe he needs help with his mission.”
The dozen cats in the fire looked at me and nodded. The flames sparked and lit the word: “Ready”.
“I also found a few things I would love you to paint for me, do you have time?”
The cats nodded. Elise thanked it and the fire was gone. In fact the whole clearing was gone. Claustrophobic dark walls loomed over us. For a moment it was hard to see where Elise’s coal black hair ended and the black wood began. Then it came back to me. We had never left the ship.
“’Tis done that way: calling others,” Elise said, getting back up. “I tried, but you weren’t there.”
I wasn’t crouching anymore, but slouching over the chest. It had been conveniently pushed between the two of us, or I might have ended with my face in Elise’s lap. I guess you couldn’t stay crouching when asleep. We turned to the only person that could have saved his daughter’s honour. Captain Pieterson was sitting on the bed, looking regal and very unhappy.
I checked I wasn’t drooling, and quickly got back on my feet. The grass stain on Elise’s sleeve was still there. I was confused, had this been real? Or only in her mind? Were things in our minds as real as things out of it? The question was scary. I shivered, though I put that on the account of the wet clothes.
“Could I just not have realised that you were calling me? I was very sleepy, but I kept eating fish so as not to fall into a coma. Was I sleepy because you were calling me?”
“You should have known you were contacted. You should have physically felt the tug: as if I was in your presence, pulling on your arm.”
“It might be the curse, sweetheart,” said Captain Pieterson, for the first time interrupting the conversation.
“What curse?” both Elise and I exclaimed.
She cupped my face, coming dangerously close, and pulled at the skin under my eye. I stiffened under her touch. Her fingers were not clammy anymore, and the warmth of her hand sent my heart racing. Her face scrunched.
“’Tis the mask, it must have done the curse. I never even sensed it. Oh, Sir Tosho!”
“What does that mean?” I panicked.
“A curse blocks someone from their soul. ’Tis preventing you from sleeping and communicating with others. But most aggravating, ’tis preventing you from becoming a monster, even if you accomplish your quest.”
I thought Merlin had been sulking, but what if the curse had hurt him. I hadn’t even realised anything was going on. I mean, the quiet had been nice, no matter how unlikely, and perhaps it had been easier to assume that he was just being childish. But now I really thought about it, the whole silence thing was utterly out of character. Just because Merlin swore not to talk to m
e didn’t mean he could keep it up. He was fickle and vain and quick to anger, and he would have yelled bloody murder enough to swell my head up tenfold with all the ridiculous things I’d done by now!
“Your soul is fine,” Elise tried to reassure me, but the way she wrung her hands told a different story. “’Tis just kept in a cage. Oh, I’m so sorry. ’Tis all my fault—”
“No! The mask was after me.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t got a clue, but it said to Poseidon it wanted me!”
“If ’tis the case we have to know why – let us go home.” She turned to the captain. “Goodbye, Father, please refrain from sacrificing more people to Poseidon.”
“Your room will wait for next time you deign to grace us with your appearance.” Was his sole response.
He bowed and left. He was obviously going to do as he damned pleased. Elise was right in thinking that neither her presence nor her words would change him. I wondered if she had a long term plan. Was my father like that? Somewhere in hell going about his evil business with no intention of ever changing? I quickly asked Elise if there was anything we could do for the kidnapped islanders.
“’Tis done,” she said. “All the ones who wanted to leave were taken back home. I forced my father to liberate his emergency rafts.”
I nodded thoughtfully as she hopped to the painting in the room. It was a small hop as there wasn’t much distance between anything. The ivy on the cottage looked possibly brighter than it had before. And the leaves looked like they rustled in a breeze. I leaned in from the bed. A tiny bird flitted in the sky.
“It’s moving!”
“’Tis moving.” Elise smiled before pushing the crate into the painting.
The crate of stuff disappeared and she plunged her arm up to her elbow after it.
“How are you doing that?” I exclaimed.
The paint rippled round her arm. She gestured for me to come close. The image crawled up Elise’s body, impatient to suck her in. I scooted off the bed and away, but Elise had grabbed a flap of my jacket.
“’Tis a portal,” she said. “’Tis useful to travel between worlds. ’Tis how I got here so fast. Do hold my hand, because no one but me and mine can travel through, I made it that way.”
