He couldn’t tell if she was serious or not, so he elected not to respond.
“Cheer up,” she told him, patting him on the cheek. “Today was just the first wave. We saw the lower-ranking people. Once word spreads of the quality of your work, then we’ll begin seeing people with actual information. They’ll come. And we’ll learn.” She rubbed her hands together in gleeful anticipation.
Kelo hoped she was right. He wanted this over as quickly as possible.
QUEEN ASANA DIDN’T EXPECT THE ARTIST TO SUCCEED. SHE DELIBERATELY kept her hopes in check, careful to dismiss it from her thoughts while she went about her daily routine.
On the third morning after the covert interrogation began, she shut herself in her chambers and sat in the center of the floor. Her joints creaked as she lowered herself down and folded her legs. Placing her hands on her knees, she steadied her breathing.
She thought of her daughter.
She held the image of her as she’d last seen her, years ago, in her mind, and then gently packed it away. She sometimes let herself wonder what little Roe looked like now, grown into a woman, but today wasn’t a day for wondering.
Wondering felt too close to hope, and she didn’t dare feel that.
Freeing her mind, Asana swept her thoughts out of the palace, south through the sea. She let her awareness flow through the wild spirits, the ones not bound to her, sensing their unrest. When that unrest built into uncontrollable anger, they’d pick a target: one of her islands, and she’d spread word of a coming storm. Often, the heirs were able to dispel it before it even reached landfall. Not always, though.
She stopped that thought too.
She needed her mind fully relaxed to reach into the Deepest Blue, and that was where she had to go. It was the queen of Belene’s responsibility to keep the largest of the wild spirits safely asleep. It was the reason she couldn’t use her own power to subdue the storms, or to bend the wills of those who opposed her. She needed all her power for this task, which had to be repeated every few days.
It hurt to reach so far. She felt as if she were fraying.
The leviathans slept fitfully, in dreams that were drenched in ancient memories of the birth of the world. They’d been there when the Great Mother had called for the creation of the land and the sea. They’d reveled in her boundless love, and their rage when she’d died had been immense and unquenchable. It was that old rage that drove them still, churning the waters while they slept.
All heirs, after they completed their testing, were taught how to subdue the sleeping monsters. You had to guide their dreams: keep them remembering the days when the Great Mother ruled all, before humans arrived, when spirits created beauty and didn’t know death.
It was remembering death that woke them.
If you could pull their dreams back far enough away from that cliff, they’d continue to slumber. Guiding the dreams of spirits was a trick that any heir could do, but only a queen had the power, drawn from all the spirits who were bound to her, to reach so far and influence such old, powerful minds.
When she finished, she drew herself back, feeling as if she were pulling in a mile-long strand of seaweed that snagged on rocks and coral. She had to pull carefully so that it didn’t tear.
It was so tempting to let her mind flow free, mixing with the water, losing herself in the chaotic swirl of the countless numbers of wild spirits who lived beyond the borders of the known world. But if she did, she might truly lose herself.
She couldn’t risk that.
She thought of Rokalara once more, who was waiting for her to someday return. She’d promised they’d be together again, knowing it was a promise she might never fulfill. Queens stayed queens until they died.
Unless Garnah and Kelo succeed.
That thought jerked her back to her body so hard that it felt as if she’d fallen. She felt aching and bruised. It’s getting harder and harder.
What was she going to do if it got too hard to withstand?
“I’ll die then, I suppose,” she said out loud.
A voice behind her said, “I’d prefer you didn’t, my queen.”
She turned, wincing, to see Lady Garnah had entered the room. She wondered how long she’d been there.
Asana thumped the heels of her palms on her thighs, trying to remind her blood to circulate. As she understood it, her whole body slowed when her mind wandered that far. She kept breathing, and her heart kept beating, but it was sluggish. She’d had a healer watch over her once, at the beginning, and he’d remarked that her mind-travel was not so different from what he’d seen in dying patients. Her body was empty, and so it began to shut down.
It was all rather horrible.
But necessary.
“I’m surprised the guards let you in,” Asana said. She didn’t try to stand. She knew her legs wouldn’t be functioning properly yet. Her guards were under orders to keep everyone out while she communed with the spirits of the Deepest Blue.
“They didn’t want to, but I convinced them,” Garnah said, then flashed her usual delighted-with-the-world smile. Asana wondered what it would be like to go through life like her, without concerns weighing her down. “They’ll wake up in a few hours, feel guilty for napping on the job, and be none the worse for wear. It’s a delightful powder. Also useful if you’re having trouble sleeping at night. You wake up so refreshed!”
Looking at Garnah’s oh-so-pleased-with-herself expression, Asana allowed a hint of hope to creep in. “Either your attempt was a success or a failure. You wouldn’t be here unsummoned otherwise.”
“It was educational,” Garnah said.
Asana stretched her fingers and shook them as feeling began to return to her extremities. Her heart was already beating faster. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t start believing. Wait to hear what she says. “Oh? It was?”
“And entertaining.”
“Out with it.”
Garnah pouted. “I was going to lead up to the dramatic reveal. You’re ruining my timing.” But then she took one look at the expression on Asana’s face and said quickly, “The Family Neran. Your parents and daughter are in the Neran Stronghold on the island of Olaku.”
Asana felt as if she’d been shoved underwater. It was hard to breathe, and her lungs felt as if they were being crushed from the pressure. Lord Maarte. “Are you certain?”
Garnah turned serious. “Absolutely. Our informant was . . . informative.”
She wasn’t going to let herself rejoice until she was certain all was well. “Did you endanger my family? Does the Family Neran know that I know? Can you be certain your informant won’t tell anyone that he told you?”
Garnah smiled again, and this time it was a predator’s smile, all teeth and no humor. “He won’t tell anyone anything.”
“Please tell me you didn’t kill him,” Asana said. Her heart sank. She knew it was too good to be true that this would go smoothly. “If there’s a death, there will be suspicion. The Family Neran may react. They could move my family. Or retaliate—”
“I didn’t kill him,” Garnah said. “Great Mother, I wish one day someone would just understand that I know what I’m doing,” she complained, mostly to herself. Louder: “To be honest, it was my first choice. Death is so much neater than other options, but your good little artist boy wouldn’t have it.”
“Then what did you do?” Asana demanded.
“Oh, just took a few precautions,” Garnah said. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with. What you should begin focusing on is what we’re going to do with this information.”
“Garnah—”
“I destroyed his mind,” Garnah said cheerfully. “A very clever potion that mimics an illness, a brain parasite. But he won’t recover.”
“Then he’s worse than dead.”
“Your pet artist begged me to spare his life. He wasn’t more specific than that. I do believe he’s learned his lesson: be careful what you wish for. Or perhaps the lesson was: don’t stand between a queen and
her family.”
Asana did not ask who the man was they’d destroyed. She didn’t want to know. Kelo learned the right lesson: don’t stand in my way. “I believe it’s time for a formal visit to the Neran Stronghold.”
Chapter Eighteen
There was a reason that no one ever escaped from Akena Island. And that reason is that it’s impossible, Mayara thought. But she wasn’t going to say that out loud, and besides, “impossible” had never stopped her before.
If you chase death, it can’t catch you.
Their plan was simple: first, they would reveal themselves near the cove. Draw as many spirits there, to the north side of the island, as possible. And then Lanei would lead Mayara, Roe, and Palia through the underground passages, some of which were submerged and some of which weren’t, until they all reached the south side of the island.
While the spirits searched for them in the north, they’d swim across the reef to the south, toward the deeper ocean. It was an illogical escape route, one that led toward the wild spirits and away from the islands of Belene, but that would be to their advantage, because the Silent Ones wouldn’t expect it. They’d be busy watching all the spirits flood into the cove on the opposite side of the island. From the other side of the reef, Mayara, Roe, Palia, and Lanei would compel a stray spirit to bring them to Yena.
Mayara thought it must have been tried before. But the piece that was new was Lanei: she knew the island’s caves better than anyone. She’d been using them for more than a year and knew the fastest routes and the best hiding places. She could lead them across the island, beneath the island, faster than any spirits or Silent One could anticipate.
Idea is we’ll be gone before they even think to look.
It could work.
Certainly it was better than Lanei’s original plan.
As they prepared, Mayara found herself daydreaming about Kelo. She wondered what he was doing right now, if he’d repaired his studio, if he was carving anything new, if he was thinking of her. Her heart was still holding out hope that he was home and well and waiting for her. He must know she wanted to survive and would do anything she could to get back to him. Including doing what’s never been done before . . . what not even Elorna had done.
Mayara peeked out at the cove. Today it was a riot of colors, every flower in full bloom so that it looked as if a painter had chucked pot after pot of bright paint over all the greenery. A few spirits were already there, playing with a breeze by the shore. “Roe, I think you should stay hidden. You’re the key to this working. You can’t take risks.”
Roe snorted. “Like I’m going to let you go out there without me. You’ve taken far too many risks on my behalf. From here on in, we do it together.”
Reaching over, Mayara squeezed her hand.
“Aw, how sweet,” Lanei said.
Both of them ignored her.
“Besides,” Roe said, still holding Mayara’s hand, “the more of us the spirits see, the more spirits will come. And it won’t work unless they come.”
“We can do this,” Mayara told her. “Look at what we’ve done so far: survived when it shouldn’t have been possible, with me untrained and you injured. And Palia . . . she shouldn’t have survived being trapped, but she did, and now we have the chance to do what no other spirit sister has ever done.”
“Nice pep talk,” Lanei said. “Just to be clear, though, if you get yourselves caught, I won’t help you. Succeed or fail, I win. Remember that.”
“Remember that we can’t trust you? Yes, I think we’ll remember that,” Mayara said.
“I’ll watch her,” Palia offered. “As much as I like her goals, she did set the trap that nearly killed me.” She patted Lanei’s shoulder with false friendliness and added, “You know, you really shouldn’t try to murder someone who has nothing left to lose. You’ve made me desperate. I’ll be watching your every move.”
“Your daughter still lives,” Roe reminded Palia. “And you’re going to see her again. Don’t lose faith now. We have a plan, and it’s going to work!”
“Are we going to keep giving speeches, or are we going to do this?” Lanei asked.
“Do we have a plan for attracting the spirits’ attention?” Palia asked. “Or should we just jump around, wave our arms, and shout, ‘Come eat me!’”
Roe crawled out of the hole above the cove. “Something like that. Follow my lead. I have an idea.” Mayara and Palia, with Lanei, followed after her.
Before them, the cove was its usual gorgeous paradise self: white sand beach, trees heavy with tropical fruit, brilliantly colored birds calling to one another, and a few monkeys screeching in the distance. Roe closed her eyes.
Mayara didn’t reach out yet. She waited to see what Roe would do.
And then she heard it, echoed through the minds of the spirits:
Attack the Silent Ones.
“Clever,” Lanei said with approval.
Mayara smiled. She knew she shouldn’t hate the Silent Ones, especially since they didn’t kill Kelo. Or might not have killed Kelo. But she couldn’t help it. They were the ones who had torn her away from her family and her life. Besides, they could defend themselves. She added her mental voice to Roe’s: Go north, to the islands beyond the reef. Attack the Silent Ones.
She felt the spirits respond. This was a command that they all liked. She was certain it had been tried before, but perhaps not as a distraction.
The earth spirits moved. The air spirits flew. The water spirits boiled up from the cove. All of them flowed north. And the four spirit sisters ducked back into the cave.
Without a word, Lanei led them.
They hurried through the passageway toward the underground lake, and then, into the lake. Roe hesitated at the edge. Mayara repeated what she’d said, “Remember, we’re doing this together. Take my hand.”
Roe took her hand, and together they jumped in. Mayara pulled Roe through the water, swimming strong enough for both of them, following Lanei and Palia.
They surfaced, breathed, and then swam on, with Mayara continuing to pull Roe, who flopped through the water as awkwardly as a baby sea turtle. She wished there had been time to teach her to swim. I’m strong enough. We can do this.
Climbing out of the water, they followed a dark path, lit only by firemoss.
It rose up.
Ahead, Lanei was whispering furiously to Palia. Warnings or threats? Mayara wondered, but there wasn’t time to ask.
In the distance, they could feel the churning of the spirits. The Silent Ones were equipped to defend themselves, and the spirits were under orders not to leave the reef. But they could make life unpleasant, beginning wind storms, tossing waves at the shore, hurling boulders out of the sea. For now at least, there was chaos. If we can just be fast enough . . .
They emerged on the southern side of the island. Palia was breathing heavily, with a wheezing hiss at the end of each breath. Hands on her knees, she bent over. “Are you all right?” Mayara asked. “Can you make it?”
“For my daughter,” Palia said. “Yes.”
“Roe?”
Roe nodded. “Ready.”
Mayara was awed by how strong they both were. Roe, unable to swim, yet going underwater inside caves. Agreeing to plunge into the ocean. And Palia, who was clearly hurting and pushed beyond her limits. Roe wants to see her mother, and Palia her daughter. Just as much as I want to be with Kelo. We all want the lives we were supposed to have.
She wondered if there was anyone out there whom Lanei loved.
Palia dived into the water first, then Lanei. Roe was next, followed by Mayara, who immediately swam to Roe, supporting her in the waves. “You watch for spirits,” Mayara told her. “I’ll take care of swimming.” Any sighting could spell disaster—one spirit could alert the others. They’d have to silence it fast.
The reef was teeming with fish: silver, purple, yellow, orange. Eels slipped between the fans of the coral. The coral itself was overlapping layers of lace. She didn’t fear any of th
em—they were animals. But a spirit could hide between them. That she feared. All it took was one.
And there was one.
“Mayara . . .”
“I feel it. Palia, Lanei, keep Roe afloat!” She pushed the younger woman toward them.
Lanei and Palia each caught her under an armpit. “Push the water down,” Palia advised her. “Don’t just flail around. Push. That’s it. You call for a wild spirit, and we’ll help keep you afloat until it gets here.”
Kicking, Mayara swam down toward the spirit with a powerful thrust. It hadn’t noticed them yet. She drew her glass knife. The spirit was a translucent wisp, drifting between the coral.
As Roe, Palia, and Lanei crossed the line of coral and began summoning a spirit not from Akena that would be strong enough to carry them to Yena, the little island spirit noticed them—and as it did, Mayara sank her knife into it. She cut off its cry.
She hoped she’d been fast enough.
Silvery blood spread through the water, and Mayara rose to the surface at a distance from her friends. She opened her mouth to call to them to wait for her, then felt a hand close around her wrist and yank her down. She had half a second to suck in air.
Ready with her knife, she spun under water—but it wasn’t a spirit.
It was a woman with a white mask. Her gray robe clung to her limbs, and she was seal-slick gray. Underwater, they both stared at each other.
Dimly, beneath the panic and fear, Mayara had the space to think: She’s a deep diver. Neither of them were fighting for air. She’s like me.
Then another part of her thought: I have to keep her from calling the spirits. She had to give her friends a chance to escape. Instead of trying to pull away from the Silent One, Mayara launched into her, kicking hard against the water to propel herself into her.
She knocked her down, into the reef, holding her against the coral.
Fish scattered.
The Deepest Blue Page 23
