Awaken

by Tanya Schofield

  Please, Melody prayed, digging her fingers into the dirt. What do we do? Where do we go?

  Birds called in the distance, and Jovan’s rasping breaths were the only sound for a long moment.

  I am with you, came the reply on the wind.

  Jovan, lying beside Kaeliph with his eyes closed, felt a change in her.

  “Melody?” His voice was rough.

  Too weak to explain, she sent him a brief, pale image of the stream she had been shown.

  “Where is it?” he asked, the words burning his lips and throat where the black tendrils were tightening their grip, threatening to choke him as he sat up. She showed him, but the image flickered, blurred by her certainty that if they didn’t get there, they would die.

  “Where is what?” Kaeliph stood as Jovan fought to his feet and reached for their packs. “Jovan?”

  “A stream,” Jovan croaked. “Help her.”

  Kaeliph tried to help Melody stand, taking her arm and offering her the staff, but she had no more strength to give. She simply pointed south, towards the distant tree line.

  “All right,” he said. “Be easy.” He gathered her into his arms and started walking with Jovan close behind. “I hope this works.”

  “It has to,” Jovan whispered.

  By the time they reached what appeared to be a deer trail at the edge of the forest, twilight had descended and brought with it a cold that made clouds out of Melody’s shallow breaths.

  “Listen,” said Jovan, fighting for air through the tightening black web around his throat. He motioned for Kaeliph to stop. He tipped his head to one side. They both heard the slipping laughter of water in the distance, muffled – as if it were close but heavily sheltered.

  “That’s got to be it.” Kaeliph shifted Melody’s trembling form in his arms and headed down the path with renewed energy. “Hang on,” he said, “we’re close.”

  The trail wound and turned, but the sound of the water led them onward. The thick forest was dimly lit, but despite the darkness they made quick progress. When they stumbled into the clearing, Jovan and Kaeliph were suddenly speechless.

  The secluded pool was impossibly clear, curving gracefully in the shape of a large eye, with a white sand bottom. It was fed in one corner from a stream that was more heard than seen, and the water spilled out over distant rocks with a musical giggle before sliding out of sight into the trees.

  Thick green grass cushioned their steps. The huge trees sweeping overhead were dripping with a white downy moss. The moss seemed to glow, softly illuminating the open space. The whole area was comfortably warm.

  Jovan dropped the packs. “What now?” He looked down at Melody and touched her face. “What do we do?”

  She was unresponsive. He was on his own. Jovan remembered the weak image of the stream she had sent him … the water. It was the water. Jovan pointed to the pool. “There.”

  “Dunk her?” Kaeliph looked uncertain.

  “Yes,” Jovan rasped. He could feel the crippling weakness that was draining her, and knew she was nearly gone. He offered a silent, uncharacteristic prayer that the water would work for her – and that there was hope for them both. “Hurry.”

  Kaeliph didn’t argue. He walked hip-deep into the warm, faintly steaming water with Melody limp in his arms, and sank to his knees.

  Her whole body stiffened the moment her wound was completely submerged. A heartbeat later Melody gave a tremendous shudder, the force of it nearly knocking Kaeliph off balance, but she remained unconscious.

  “Lich be damned,” Kaeliph exclaimed, getting his feet back under him. “Did it work?”

  Jovan pointed. “Look.” Stark against the white sand bottom of the pool, a twisting clump of black tendrils was clearly visible as it was swept away by the current. “Bring her here.”

  Kaeliph sloshed back to shore and laid Melody on the cushioning grass, kneeling beside Jovan to examine her leg. The wound was still severe, but now the edges were simply red and raw. Wherever the advancing black lines had invaded, her skin was discolored, like a bruise.

  “Lich be damned is right,” Jovan muttered. His breath whistled in his throat.

  “Jovan, go,” Kaeliph urged. “You do it.”

  Jovan, unable to move his injured arm, needed Kaeliph’s help to strip out of his shirt. He was dizzy as he walked to the deep center of the pool, shirt in hand, grateful for the surprising heat of the water. Without hesitation, he forced a deep inhale, closed his eyes, and dropped under the surface.

  It was all he could do to not drown as every spreading, clutching tendril shrunk back on itself in one immediate burst – as if it were in pain. Whatever evil had taken hold of him and Melody on the island, it could not exist in this water. He staggered upright, coughing and gasping, taking great gulping breaths of clear, sweet air. By the Break, he’d missed breathing.

  “It's gone!” Kaeliph’s call was low and clear.

  Jovan reached up with both arms and squeezed water from his thick black hair, the motion re-opening the cuts on his shoulder. It was not the heavy, dragging pain of before, though, this pain was sharp and familiar. He rinsed his stained, stinking shirt in the water before he waded back to settle on the soft grass beside his brother and Melody.

  Kaeliph was holding Melody’s hand, gently rubbing her arm. “She won’t wake up,” he said, worried.

  Jovan looked, noting how dark her eyelashes were against her pale face. “She’s just … recovering.” He thought it through, wishing words came more easily to him. “I think it hurt us both physically, but with her … I think it drained her magic, somehow.”

  Kaeliph raised a surprised eyebrow. “You, brother?”

  “What?” Jovan glared at him.

  “You’re admitting it? That she’s a witch?”

  Jovan sighed. “What do you want me to say, Kaeliph? I don’t know what to think about her half the time.”

  Kaeliph smiled and reached for his pack. “You're bleeding,” he said. “Let me see if I can stitch it now.”

  Jovan continued his appreciation of Melody while Kaeliph prodded at his wound. She was so fragile, and so strong.

  “How does she do it?” he asked. “How does it work?” He couldn’t put aside the thought of how she – weak and frightened – had saved his life.

  “People have tried to understand magic for centuries, Jovan. Most people say it’s passed down through families. But how it works? Why it works? No one really knows.” Kaeliph paused, then replaced the needle in his pack. “That will heal up fine on its own,” he said of the wound. “It’ll leave quite a scar, though.”

  Jovan pulled his damp shirt back over his head. “The Duke will kill her if he finds her.” It was not a question.

  “So would anyone loyal to him,” Kaeliph agreed. “Or anyone else who believes that magic is evil.”

  Jovan remembered Coraline, whipped raw and burned alive, and his jaw clenched. “I won’t allow it.” His voice was harsh.

  Kaeliph believed him. A tremendous yawn surprised him, and Jovan quickly followed suit. They were both exhausted.

  “We’re safe here,” Jovan decided. “For now. Get some sleep.”

  Sunlight was filtering through softly rustling leaves when Melody's song gently eased them awake. Jovan, still half asleep, tried to understand the music. She was asking a plant to bloom, to bear fruit to feed them.

  Kaeliph nudged him, breaking his focus. “She’s gone,” he said. “But how?”

  Jovan sat up. There was no sign of Melody except her voice. Her pack lay where it had been dropped, her staff right beside it.

  “She can’t possibly be walking,” Kaeliph insisted, remembering the ruin of her wounded leg.

  “My shoulder feels well enough,” Jovan said, flexing his arm “So she’s up, then.”

  Kaeliph pulled Jovan’s shirt aside to look, and didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. “Jovan, it’s … there’s not even a scar.”

  Good morning. Melody addressed them both together as she
slipped into the clearing, her shortened skirt laden with fruit. Her steps were strong and even, as if the injury had never happened. She had obviously been awake for some time; her hair was free of its braid and shone in a riot of damp black waves down below her hips. Jovan stared, enthralled, and Kaeliph was as speechless as his brother.

  I hope you like fruit. She knelt beside them and let the wild raspberries, blackberries, and pears spill onto the thick grass.

  It was Kaeliph who remembered his manners first. “I— You— Thank you.” He elbowed Jovan, who finally closed his mouth.

  “Yes, thank you.” Neither of them reached for the fruit, and Melody bit her lip.

  You’re not hungry? Her nervous frown shook them both from their daze.

  “No, I just— I am. Yes.” Kaeliph reached for the berries, words deserting him. “It’s just— You look— You were so weak …”

  “How did you heal so fast?” Jovan spoke around a mouthful of pear.

  “You both did,” Kaeliph said. “It’s not possible.”

  It's this place. Melody reached for a handful of berries. I think it's the Haven.

  “A haven from what?”

  Melody tucked her legs up under herself, smiling. No, The Haven. Elder Gorlois taught that in the time before, just after the world was formed, Goddess walked Her creation. Before she returned to the stars, She laid down to rest. The earth forever transformed in that spot, holding and reflecting Her energy and power. He said the Haven appears only to those loyal to Her, and only if the need is great enough.

  Kaeliph finished off the last of the pile of fruit with a hasty swallow. “Mother spoke of that! She said there was magic in the land, not just in people. She always believed the Haven was a real place.”

  I think I would have liked your mother.

  Kaeliph beamed. “She would have loved you.”

  It’s curious, though. Melody chewed gently on her lower lip. Elder Gorlois never said that it would be so ... full. It was the wrong word. Frowning, she sent her impressions to them, what the energies in this wild place felt like.

  “It’s like the power is dammed up and is about to spill over,” Kaeliph mused.

  “Unsteady,” Jovan added.

  I don’t think we were supposed to heal so fast. And I've never spoken to both of you at the same time, but here – it’s simple. I don’t understand.

  “I’m not complaining,” Jovan said, stretching.

  Melody stood, smoothing her skirt and looking away from the muscles he’d set in motion. Her face flushed as the thought of him embracing her with those strong arms rose unbidden in her mind. She shook her head to clear it.

  “When should we head out?” Kaeliph asked.

  Melody’s face fell along with her heart. Leave?

  Jovan was already shaking his head. “No one will find us here, not soon. We could all use the rest.”

  Kaeliph watched Jovan watching the relief that appeared on Melody’s face, and decided a break from running might be well deserved after all. “Rest it is, then.” He retrieved his pack. “Give me your shirt, I’ll mend it while I do mine.”

  Jovan handed it over. It was warm enough in the strange clearing, but he still wanted a fire pit. He found a sturdy branch to dig with, and settled on the perfect spot.

  Melody rustled above him in the sweeping branches of a willow tree, singing softly – not to bring the magic, but because she was content. It was enough to make him consider remaining here in the Haven through the winter, though he quickly abandoned the thought. Too much was happening in the world that could not be ignored.

  Jovan did not consider himself a politically minded man, but the Duke’s brutal display in Paltos had made a lasting impression. And Korith’s dire warnings against magic simply did not fit with his knowledge of Melody. Her? Violent, slaughtering innocent people, raining destruction? No. He had very little idea of what she did want, but he knew it was not power, or dominion. He finished with the pit and lay back with his head on his crossed arms to watch Melody.

  It’s a bed, isn’t it? He felt her uneasy surprise at his thoughts touching hers, but she was still soft and welcoming.

  Yes.

  He shouldn’t be able to do this. The one time he had, back in the lighthouse, he had been desperate and she had been reaching for him with all of her strength. But here … Melody was right, this place made it simple.

  I had one … before, she said, unable to keep the memory of the tree’s violent vision from clouding her thoughts again, as it did all too often. Jovan saw it with her, experiencing the pain and shock and grief she felt.

  I’m sorry, he sent.

  I miss it. I miss them.

  Jovan could close his eyes and see what she saw – she was forcing herself to imagine the Dweller’s glade as she remembered it. There was sunlight filtered by leaves that danced in the wind, much like there was here. She focused on recalling the cradling comfort of her hammock in the branches. Through their strange connection, he even knew of the secret pocket she had woven in the hammock to hold her father’s book.

  Her sudden anxiety washed over him, and he felt her retreating.

  Don’t go, he sent. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.

  Melody relaxed, and Jovan remained silent as she continued with her work. Being this close, actually inside her mind … he had never been so intimate with anyone. He felt her thoughts return again and again to the idea of that book, frustrated and uncertain.

  Kaeliph thinks he can read it, he offered.

  Melody gasped aloud. He can? When did he—?

  Jovan winced as she brushed over his thoughts and memories, hurrying in her distress. He meant no harm, Melody. He could feel her shaking, but not with the anger he half expected. Instead, it was with … anticipation.

  He can tell me what it says?

  Jovan mentally shrugged, remembering Kaeliph’s excitement. He thinks so.

  Though he struggled to navigate the flood of thoughts that immediately swept through Melody's mind, it was too much. With a stretch, he sat up to see Kaeliph sound asleep over the unfinished mending. Poor kid. He’d worried himself sick these last few days.

  Melody dropped from her tree, landing with cat’s grace behind him, fully ready to bring the book to Kaeliph that very second. Jovan held up a hand to stop her.

  I won’t. She stayed where she was, and when he turned to face her she took his breath away. Her dark red-gold eyes were bright with eagerness, her cheeks pink from her exertions in the branches … there was a twig entwined in one of her black curls. Jovan reached to free it, letting his fingers linger against her hair. The curls were impossibly soft, reminding him of wind, and water, and flowers. He bit his tongue just to keep his focus, hoping she was unaware of his reaction to her. She blinked up at him, not just feeling his attraction through their unspoken connection, but sharing it.

  Melody’s insides fluttered like a thousand hummingbirds as he looked down at her. He was still shirtless, and she could feel the heat from his bare arm on her cheek as he plucked a leafy twig from her hair. She resisted the urge to lean into him like a flower to the sun. She had no explanation for her sudden shortness of breath, but if he kept looking at her like that she thought she might faint. Her shy confusion reached through Jovan’s desire, grounding him, and he took a step back with a deep inhale.

  “I should hunt something for dinner,” he said, his voice too loud in his ears. He made no move towards his weapons. Melody nodded, still watching his mouth and irrationally wondering what his lips would feel like on hers.

  There are plenty of rabbits near here, she offered.

  “Then I’ll get a few of those,” he replied, still not moving. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Whatever chance this was would be lost if he looked away from her bottomless gaze. Melody, too, remained still, poised as if for flight, but she would not run if he reached for her, and they both knew it.

  With your bare hands? She smiled, shy and playful. I have a sling in my bag,
if you need it. Calder left it. She forced herself to act as though nothing had changed, all the while trying to calm the flutterings inside her.

  “Please.”

  When she finally realized he had said yes to her offer, it took most of her willpower to walk away from him. Each step got a little easier, and as she rummaged in her pack she realized she could breathe again, that the pounding of her heart was quieting. Jovan maintained himself quite well – until she bent to fetch the sling from her pack, and then he had to look away or risk losing his composure altogether.

  “I’ll be back,” he said, taking the worn leather sling from her hand and leaving without so much as a glance behind. Melody took a deep breath and decided she needed to gather some firewood.

  Kaeliph was awake when they returned, and Jovan seemed recovered. He barely looked at her while he skinned and prepared his catch. The smell of the cooked rabbit turned her stomach, but she said nothing as she watched the brothers tear into the meat.

  She picked at her own meal of wild potatoes, roasted until they were creamy in their skins. Her mind wasn’t on the food. Melody was anxious to ask Kaeliph about her father’s journal. She waited, though, until Jovan was off disposing of the rabbit bones.

  Kaeliph? She shyly produced her father’s journal and held it out to him, suddenly at a loss for words. Jovan said …

  “Oh, of course,” he agreed, reaching for the book. “You want me to translate, right?”

  She nodded, thrilling at the possibility of having her father’s words at last, of finally knowing what he had written before she was even born. In the journal, she was certain, there were answers— something to help her understand what she was, and why she had been left behind.

  Kaeliph furrowed his brow. “It looks almost Elvish,” he muttered, tapping a page. “Except for this … and here, the syntax … perhaps it’s some sort of derivative?” He fell quiet, poring over the pages until Melody’s gentle sigh reminded him of her presence. “It will take time to translate this, Melody. It might be easier if I worked out the language first, and then taught you.”