Waterwight Breathe

by Laurel McHargue

  Why would she allow such a feeble-minded man near her? I suppose even a madwoman needs a human touch now and then. And he’s certainly no threat to her.

  “I’m going to find a way to stop them, Blanche. Can I count on you to keep Bridger and Sharon safe?” I can’t believe I feel responsible for Sharon, but she’s just a child. Maybe there’s hope for her.

  “Yes, I’ll do what I can, and Celeste? I’m sorry—”

  I dissolve before she finishes her sentence.

  Before I float from the building, I find the room where Bridger is playing with a toddler. He’s creating building blocks and intricate structures to entertain Sharon, who’s regressed in age since mere moments ago.

  What happens when there’s no age left to return to? I can’t worry about that. This could be the planet’s way of rebalancing without the gods, though I don’t know where Odin is right now.

  Bridger looks happy, playing with her. I want to enter his mind and tell him he’s not alone, help is coming, he’ll be home soon, but I feel like it might frighten him. In an odd way, I also feel like it might be an unwarranted invasion, like the way I’ve been feeling lately when Harmony jumps into my consciousness. And what could he do with the information anyway?

  Instead, I wrap myself around Bridger and Sharon in a touchless, invisible embrace, my particles brushing lightly against those surrounding them, and I hear them laugh.

  It’s time to stop the madwoman and her army of monstrosities.

  ~ 32 ~

  ONCE OUTSIDE, I spread myself thin over the ruckus below to assess the situation. Lilith is dragging Thurston by the hand back into the building, presumably to have him figure out what caused the maze to fail. She won’t touch the control panel again, and Thurston will never discover my vandalism.

  I fried it beyond repair.

  Three of the bat creatures are flying circles around the perimeter above me and give no indication they sense my presence. I see two of them hanging upside down from limbs of a tree near the building. They’re most likely the night guards, though I didn’t see them when I arrived. Maybe they’re not so dedicated to their tasks when Lilith isn’t watching.

  For the first time, I see for myself the horde of mechanical blobs, more than a hundred, I’d guess. They’re moving and shooting swords from their limbs, controlled by a disheveled man standing a distance away, and it’s truly a horrifying sight. The humans—I count thirty-nine dirty, sinewy bodies—grapple with one another and make thrusting motions with various sharp weapons.

  Do any of these survivors know how many children are in the village they plan to vanquish?

  I see what you’re seeing, Harmony’s voice startles me again and I’m glad I decided against communicating with Bridger. This does feel like an invasion. I sense where you are and will guide the villagers. We should be there before dusk tomorrow. I’ll tell them you’re more help to us there.

  A blind girl is leading my village. My village. Our village. My new home. I won’t let these creatures and their leader subjugate us. Please tell our friends I’m all right and will do everything in my power to incapacitate this army before you get here.

  I want to fly to them and ease their journey, but Harmony’s right. I can do far more to help them here. At a minimum, I can stall Lilith’s planned departure. I can disable her blobs. If not all, then many.

  You have a plan. I can feel it. But why can’t you just defeat Lilith? Why can’t you stop her? The army’s nothing without her, and the man who was my birth father isn’t that man anymore. He’s nothing without her either.

  I tell her about Lilith’s personal force field and the maze. I don’t have any brilliant ideas yet how I’ll breach Lilith’s protective shield, but if I can disable her creatures and we can neutralize the rest of her army when the villagers arrive, she’ll have to concede defeat. She’ll just have to.

  And I do have a plan. When I removed the weaponized pieces from you, Harmony, I left the chip that controls the basic movement of your arms and legs, the one that also allows you to hear what’s being said. Now I know what I’m looking for in the machines. Tonight, when training is over and Lilith is sleeping, I’ll do my work. When I’m done, her army won’t move an inch. Can our people defeat the humans and the bat creatures? Based on what I know, they’re the only ones capable of acting independently.

  Yes. We have archers and children with powers, but—

  But what?

  But they say their powers are inconsistent.

  I feared as much, but didn’t want to express it. Why are their powers fluctuating when mine seem to grow stronger every day?

  The only power I see in the humans here is their cruel, hungry aggression, I say, hoping to bolster her courage. Some amount of superhuman power beats none.

  One more thing, she says. There were sightings of a monstrous dragonfly after you left last night and today, again, while we travel. Your father says her name is Noor, and she helped you in the past, but she hasn’t made contact yet.

  Noor! What’s her purpose in this ludicrous world? She could wipe out this entire army with one fiery breath!

  She’s probably looking for me, I say. I’ll find her! She could be our answer!

  We’ll continue our advance, Harmony says. Orville flies high around us to spot danger, the children are in boats hitched behind strong rowers, and the animals and other beings follow the shoreline near me. They have me on a metal horse they call Layla. I just wish her friend Lou would keep quiet.

  If only I could see through her eyes, but when I try, all I see is green—my scarf around her hollowed eyes. Does she feel safe on this journey with strangers, a journey with a goal of neutralizing—no, of killing her birth parents? When I consider she’s never had a real family besides the sea creatures and an unlikely, irascible father figure, it makes me sad. But then again, most of us have had to create new families since The Event.

  And who decides what a real family is anymore?

  It feels like Harmony has broken her connection with me. There’s a lightness in my particles that’s not there when she talks in my mind.

  Where’s my mind when I’m spread thin like this? The idea amuses me, but I have to keep my focus. I can’t lose myself like I nearly did last night. I actually wanted to lose myself in the heavens. The feeling still tugs at me.

  Noor. I need to find the dragonfly who saved me from Odin’s ravens just to drop me into Kumugwe’s realm. What does she expect me to learn from the horrors of the situation unfolding below? Does she expect anything from me? She wanted me to learn what was happening in the sea and help Harmony stop Zoya’s torment, which I did. And now what? She may have been unable to navigate the water below its surface, but she’s certainly able to command the world topside.

  Will she come to my aid this time?

  I float high, high above the turmoil below until the building is the size of a mustard seed.

  Noor! I summon her with my dispersed being.

  Nothing.

  I snap back into my body—my mouth voice might be able to get her attention this time—and I’m surprised again to see I’m still wearing a dress. Where does it go when I dissolve? Does it disperse too? Maybe Noor can tell me.

  “Noor!” I shout her name with all my being, and the sound echoes through the heavens like thunder.

  But just as she didn’t come to me when Nick was dying, she doesn’t come to me now.

  ~ 33 ~

  I COULD JUST STAY way up here. Like Blanche, I’m tired too. But I’ve made a commitment to my friends, to my dad, to Nick, and it would be wrong to leave them all . . . again. I fear my comings and goings have distressed Nick the most. Will there ever come a time I might hope to live a peaceful life with him by my side?

  I disperse and descend before the magic of this serene atmosphere keeps hold of my particles. I should just go after Lilith—she’s back outside, gathering her makeshift army in neat rows facing her. Thurston may be the only person who can touch her, but my particles
have infiltrated human and god and all states of matter. I should have done this the moment I awoke from the shock.

  This is it. I’ll enter her core and do what I did to the control panel in the lab—I’ll damage her biological wiring. Her heart will stop beating and that will be the end of her terror. First, though, I wait to hear what she’ll say. If any of her humans are truly aligned with her goals, I’ll need to know her plans.

  “At first light tomorrow, we march!” Lilith stands like a stiff toy soldier and screeches her announcement to the dead and undead.

  Do the mechanized blobs understand her words? Do they care? How could they?

  I expect to hear a rousing cheer, but the blobs have no mouths and the hungry humans just want the job done so they can eat. There’s no true loyalty here.

  “Tonight, my kiddiwinks will gather on the far side of the building to be guarded by you batkins,” she points to the circling creatures, “and the rest of you shall eat and sleep inside. You must be strong for the days of marching ahead and our ultimate victory over our first village.”

  The humans look surprised. They’ve evidently never stepped foot inside the building. I wait for her to say something about the protective maze, but she doesn’t.

  “Do as I say! To your places!” She claps her hands and then manipulates a device and the blobs start moving to the other side of the building. The humans approach the building skittishly, their hands in front of them. They’ve obviously experienced the invisible maze.

  “Go in straightaway. I’ll re-arm the shield when we’re inside.”

  So, she won’t tell them the truth about the force field, and by keeping them inside, they’ll never discover the truth—that she’s been compromised. This is good. Lilith looks nervous, and the humans won’t get in my way.

  I float a distance above her. She chuckles mirthlessly and Thurston giggles beside her. They watch to ensure everyone obeys, and as the last human enters the building, I make my move, sending my particles toward her wicked eyes.

  What’s this? An arm’s length away from her, my closest particles begin to vibrate uncontrollably, and my physical hand starts to appear. NO! This can’t be! A ball of static electricity hangs sparking in the space between her eyes and my hand, and I retreat quickly.

  It’s true. Even I can’t get near her.

  “Ball of fire!” Thurston points to where I’ve been and giggles.

  “To the lab, fool!” Lilith grabs his hand and pulls him into the building.

  What do I do? My hand particles tingle unpleasantly, but at least they didn’t see my physical hand appear. Whatever she’s doing to the space surrounding herself is more powerful than the maze she created for the building, probably because her space is far more compact. But that doesn’t explain why Thurston is unaffected.

  In any case, they’re all inside, and the blobs outside are protected only by flying creatures who can’t see me. The hundred-strong force looks like one gigantic, failed gelatin mold, the whole mass of them quivering slightly in the cool breeze coming from the darkening water.

  I remember the holiday creations Mom would make in fruit-shaped copper molds filled with marshmallows and pieces of chopped fruit and sometimes nuts. I loved poking them when they flopped out of the mold. Watching them jiggle, we’d all laugh.

  I miss my mom. The thought of her pulls my particles upward and I have to fight to bring them back to the task at hand, to these disastrous molds that smell of salt and sulfur.

  I infiltrate the first blob directly through its translucent body and find the master chip immediately. My particles surround it and rip it right out, leaving a small hole that seals back together with internal gelatinous goo. It makes a soft little shgluck sound, and I wait to see if the bats hear it. If they do, they don’t let on.

  I shove the chip deep into the sand under the blob’s legs. There’s no need to remove the weaponized pieces. When Lilith commands her army to move, she’ll be startled when they don’t obey. She’ll push buttons and have her other trusted humans push their buttons, and eventually someone will push the weapons button. Her blobs will massacre themselves.

  I’m glad Lilith’s plan is to leave in the morning, because this process will take some time. If I could detach my particles into different clusters, I could spread out and finish this job in no time. It would be like having octopus arms—each cluster could work independently.

  And if Nick were here, he could stop time, and then the two of us could destroy it all. If only he were here with me. But no more ifs.

  I focus on sending a detached cluster of myself to the next blob. At first, I feel an unpleasant pull, as if someone were tugging on my arm and it was about to pop from my shoulder socket. Only a glimmering filament of my particles connects the cluster to the rest of me.

  Focus! I tell myself, but just as the cluster is about to detach completely, my particles scream in pain and pull it back.

  Evidently I can spread myself only so thin.

  And so, on to the next blob I go, repeating the chip removal process one by one as the oblivious bats—first three, then two, then only one—soar in sloppy circles above. On through the night, shgluck, shgluck, shgluck, I disable one after the other until I sense the darkness ready to retreat.

  I should be exhausted, but I’m not. Nick and the others are close—I feel it!—and I’m confident in our numbers and abilities. Adrenaline makes my particles glow, though the sleepy bat above doesn’t notice. I feel alive!

  Throughout the long night, not a sound has escaped the building. But as I tear the final chip from the last blob, an infant’s plaintive cry breaks the silence, just before first light.

  ~ 34 ~

  I DON’T STICK AROUND to see what Lilith will do once she discovers her ridiculous toy army is already defeated. The fact that she thought these creatures would be a powerful force proves how irrational she’s become.

  The humans and bats may fight for her, but I already have reason to question their resolve. And once her people see our children, well, if there are any remnants of humanity in their blood, I suspect they’ll at least pause.

  I’m excited to reunite with Nick, my father, my friends, but I’m anxious too. Lives are at stake.

  As I approach the place I’ve buried my spear, I snap into my body. For the first time, I’m aware of the heaviness of my arms, my legs, my physical being, and it feels odd. I look back toward the lab and see one weary bat still circling the immovable blobs.

  Lilith should unleash her wrath upon the winged creatures for their negligence. Then we’d have only humans to confront when the time comes.

  Omega rises from the sand without my having to dig and glows as if telling me it’s happy to be in my hand again. Could it be the key, once again, to stopping the remaining threat to our village, at least for a while? Maybe it can penetrate Lilith’s shield. It wouldn’t be a selfish act to kill her if that’s what it takes to save our village, but I hope it won’t come to that.

  Maybe she’ll surrender.

  I’ve never killed a person before, but she has. Her actions have killed more than we’ll ever know, and with no sign of remorse. I have to remember that.

  I’m fooling myself to think she’ll surrender.

  I take to the air, glad my powers haven’t yet fluctuated, and in no time at all, I see emerald wings glittering in the first rays of daylight.

  “Orville!” I call to him. He hovers for a moment, looks around him and below in every direction for any possible threat, and then joins me in the air.

  “Celeste! How much longer until we encounter our foe? We’re prepared.”

  “It shouldn’t be long at all. Let’s gather on the beach and rest a bit—you look like you’ve flown through the night.”

  “No one wanted to stop. It’s good to see you again, Celeste.”

  Orville flies to the boats and gestures them to shore, and I approach Harmony, whose clothes are drenched with sea water. I land and walk beside Layla—the gigantic metal hor
se—keeping my hand on her side and watching as Lou’s head lolls from side to side. The cantankerous peacock is fast asleep.

  Harmony smiles before I open my mouth and removes the scarf from around her head. I’m about to protest when she looks at me with youthful sea-green eyes and tosses my scarf to me.

  “I should have done this yesterday,” she says, “but having people care for me has been really nice.”

  Of course she’s able to regenerate damaged parts! I should have realized it after witnessing her multiple transformations when we rescued Kumugwe’s desiccated body from the island. I’m grateful for one burden removed from my plate and can’t imagine having to replace her eyes with some from Kumugwe’s vat of snacks.

  She slides from Layla’s side and lands gracefully on her feet next to me.

  “I watched what you did with her army last night. I knew you didn’t want to be disturbed. Thank you, Celeste. I’m drained from yesterday’s drills, having to constantly restrain the movement of my arms and legs. I’ll be happy when you can finally remove this chip.”

  “Once we stop Lilith and Thurston and their followers, you won’t have to worry about the chip anymore,” I tell her. “We’ll destroy the devices as soon as we disable the people controlling them.”

  Harmony’s beautiful eyes look sad. “I want to see the look in that wicked woman’s eyes when she knows she’s failed.”

  The boats are all ashore, and everyone converges around Orville. Chimney runs to me and I brace for his exuberant hug. There’s no slowing down with him, and I smile. It’s nice to know some things don’t change.

  “Did you find my sister? And Bridger? And why aren’t they with you? Didn’t you rescue them? They’re okay, right?”

  Please-oh-please don’t change.

  “We’ll see them soon, Chim, and yes, they’re both doing well. Let’s join the others.”