by Tricia Barr
Phoenyx kicked and flailed her legs through the water with all the effort she could muster, feeling beyond helpless. None of her powers would work to defend her down here. Her fire power was doused and absolutely useless, and she wouldn’t dare reach out to touch one of these creatures for fear that they’d rip her arm off before she could compel them, which wouldn’t even work on them because she couldn’t speak to them. All I am now is dead weight.
A gang of mermaids ambushed them as they exited the other side of the tunnels leaving the shrine. Claws ripped at them, tearing through their water suits and releasing wisps of red into the water. Phoenyx cried out the sting as one slashed her arm.They struggled against these gorgeous monsters for only a brief second before a powerful pulse emanated from Sebastian and boomed through the water, temporarily paralyzing the horde and allowing them to escape.
Hands connected like a long chain with Sebastian in the lead, the four of them zoomed through the maze of the mermaids’ citadel, with the mermaids fast on their tail. If Sebastian had pulled them any more slowly, the mermaids would have them for sure, but he was a strong enough swimmer not to lose speed despite the fact that he was carrying all of their weight. They zigged and zagged around mermaid attackers in the atrium and finally made it to tunnel that would take them out of the den and into the open sea.
“We have to find a way to stop them, Sebastian,” Skylar’s telepathic words sounded in their heads. “We can’t afford to lead them to the boat.”
“You’re right,” Sebastian’s thoughts sounded in reply. “I have an idea. We can trap them in here, at least long enough for them to be unable to follow us.”
Sebastian suddenly increased his speed, no doubt using his control of the water to do so, putting a fair bit of distance between them and the throng chasing them. Closing the distance to the end of the tunnel seemed to take an eternity, every nanosecond stretching out impossibly. Phoenyx didn’t care that she was bleeding from several cuts all over her body. Her desperation to get out of this place was all she could hear, see and feel.
At last, they whizzed out of the tunnel and into the pitch black sea. Sebastian turned around to face the entrance and a pulse far stronger than the one he let out minutes ago exploded from him and targeted the entrance. The vibrations rippled through Phoenyx’s body, and that was only a tiny tremor compared to what it targeted. The cave mouth that made up the entrance shattered, the circular rock wall crumbling and caving in on itself, sealing the entrance tight as a tomb. The avalanche swallowed the blue glow, and they were completely in the dark now. In the dark and alone.
“Is everyone alright?” Sebastian asked, breathless. He was speaking through the earpiece, and Phoenyx assumed that he had put his mask back on.
“I think so,” Ayanna said, at the same time Skylar said, “Barely.”
Phoenyx started to reply, but the wind was taken from her and breathing became a struggle.
“Phoenyx?” Sebastian asked when she didn’t respond.
The next second, Sebastian, Ayanna and Skylar turned on the small lights on their goggles and shined them her way. Her gasping grew more frequent and urgent, and panic settled in as she realized what must have happened—her oxygen tank had been punctured when the mermaids ambushed them.
“Her tank,” Skylar said with urgency, reading her thoughts. “It was ruptured in the attack. She’s out of oxygen.”
“And we still have a long way to go to get to the surface,” Ayanna said, looking like she was on the verge of freaking out.
“You’ll use mine,” Sebastian said without a moment’s hesitation.
He embraced her, removed her mask and put his over her mouth. Phoenyx was so hungry for the air the mask gave her that she didn’t have the strength to argue, only to inhale as much and as quickly as she could.
When her breathing slowed, Sebastian smiled and winked at her, as if to say everything was going to be fine. Then he kissed a part of her forehead that the goggles weren’t covering and started pulling her up through the water, holding her tightly all the while. She was in a sort of daze all the way back to the surface, only aware that they had broken through when a cool breeze caressed her sopping face. She vaguely registered the deep inhales as Ayanna and Skylar took off their masks and greedily took in the salty surface air.
The world above was just as black as the world below, the only light coming from the twinkling stars overhead and the boat that waited for them several yards away. They paddled their way toward the boat, and halfway there the boat’s spotlight landed on them and followed them along their approach. When they reached the boat, Kevin helped them up the rope ladder.
“You were down there longer than I expected,” Kevin said with surprise and relief in his voice. “I really thought your tanks would have run out after that long. I almost went down after you.” His eyes found Phoenyx’s ruptured tank. “Oh wow, what happened?”
“She backed into a jagged rock too quickly,” Sebastian quickly lied. “I have experience holding my breath for long periods under water, so I gave her my oxygen for the trip to the surface.”
“Wow, how far down were you?” Kevin asked, looking impressed. “You must have been holding your breath for a long time.”
Sebastian shrugged and commenced with removing the tank from Phoenyx’s back, inviting the rest of them to unload. Kevin motioned to help him but stopped when he saw the bleeding gashes on Phoenyx’s arms and legs. His eyes wandered around to the rest of them, seeing they all had scratches, and his face scrunched with concern and confusion.
Before he could say anything, Phoenyx reached out and grabbed his arm. “Ignore our cuts,” she compelled, letting her will flow into him. “Everything here is perfectly fine, just help us get our gear off and don’t ask any questions.”
Kevin’s face softened and flushed, and he smiled dopily at her. As she instructed, he helped them get their gear off and then took it back to storage, letting them know that dinner was ready in the kitchen. He showed them to the rooms in which they would be staying, and they got into dry clothes and treated their cuts.
Phoenyx struggled to remove the soaked shirt that clung to her form and rubbed on the slashes on her arm.
“Here, let me help you,” Ayanna said, her own cuts having already healed. She stretched out the sleeve so that Phoenyx could pull her arm through without making contact. Then Ayanna graciously tended to the cuts, patting them with a warm cloth and applying ointment with her gentle touch.
“I was so worried about you back there,” Ayanna said, as she smoothed cream onto the last cut. “You would think I’d be used to losing you by now, but we’re so close this time, I don’t think I could endure your death again.” Phoenyx looked up at her face and saw only hallow pain and tear-brimmed eyes.
Phoenyx took her sister’s hand, not caring that she was getting ointment on her own. “You’re not going to lose me. I won’t let you go through this world alone any longer, I promise.”
Ayanna gave her a half smile and sniffled, then turned away to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. Without another word, the two girls helped each other into dry clothes.
When they were ready, the four of them met the rest of the crew in the kitchen. The researchers informed them that they would be stopping in Miami the next morning to refuel and restock supplies, then asked a flurry of questions about the dive. Ayanna had prepared a colorful story of their “findings” for the academics with all their questions. Phoenyx was grateful that Ayanna was the one doing all the talking; it allowed her, Sebastian, and Skylar to recover from their narrow escape and to admire their treasure.
The three of them sat at the end of the table, with Sebastian in the middle, holding the stone as they all stared at it. There were no words to be said. The relief they all felt to be safely onboard the boat after the magical and terrifying ordeal with the mermaids, and to have the second piece of the stone in their possession, was palpable, covering the three of them like a thick molasses. Now they just needed the final piece, an
d Phoenyx knew it was all on her to remember where she hid it.
After dinner with the research team, they were finally able to relax. Sebastian and Skylar went out onto the deck to watch the waves. Deciding that she had had enough of the sea and waves for a lifetime, Phoenyx remained inside. She figured the boys needed some time to talk, something they hadn’t really had since this whole ordeal started, and she had an issue she needed to attend to.
Today was the third day of their five-day furlough. Or so she thought; it was hard to keep track of the actual passage of time with all the changing time zones. That meant they only had two days left, and she still had no idea where the third and final piece of the stone was hiding. She couldn’t waste anymore time waiting for the memory to return to her. She had to draw it out, and for that she needed Ayanna’s help.
She pulled Ayanna into the empty study and they sat on small armchairs facing each other.
“This process will be different from when I brought all your memories back,” Ayanna prefaced. “Rather than just opening the flood gate to let anything in, we are scouring your mind for one specific memory. It will require you to focus. Focus on what it is you are trying to remember, and that will lead us to the memory.”
Phoenyx nodded and closed her eyes, inviting Ayanna to start. She felt Ayanna’s hands lightly touch the sides of her face, and she plunged into a whirlwind of voices, images, and times. It was like being on the most disorienting rollercoaster she could imagine.
“Focus, Phoenyx,” Ayanna’s voice chimed into her chaotic consciousness as she hurtled through time and space. “Focus on what it is we are trying to find.”
It was an unimaginable struggle to block out the myriad of lost memories pummeling her and concentrate on…what was it she needed to remember?...the stone! I need to remember where I hid the stone in the life I had regained my memories without Ayanna’s intervention.
Once she had that goal, it became a tether. In the kaleidoscope of her mind, she no longer careened through confusing images and sensations, but rather gravitated past them toward her destination. She was able to think more clearly, her mind now a witness to these memories as they passed rather than a slave to them. She could see now that they were chronological; she was moving backward through time in her memories. She saw the previous century tunnel behind her, a series of short lives in which she and Sebastian had been hunted and killed relentlessly by the Four Corners. She zoomed backward through the eighteen hundreds, technology reverting to obsolete forms, horses pulling carriages in reverse.
She concentrated harder on the thought of the stone. When was the very last time she had seen a piece of the stone before this current lifetime? She whizzed faster and faster past memories until they became a blur, and then finally it found her and consumed her, forcing her to relive it.
She was standing on a pile of kindling, her body bound to a large log with her back to it. Her accusers were all standing around to watch as they punished her for her so-called crimes. She could hear curses being whispered in the crowd, the word “witch” popping up here and there like the hissing of a snake in the grass.
She looked to her left at the poor weeping girl who was about to be burned with her. She knew this girl. The girl was known for her ability to heal. If there were such things as witches, this girl was the closest thing to one, but she was a good witch. Her healing powers had helped nearly everyone in the town of Salem at one time or another, and yet they were punishing her for it. She herself may have used her powers of manipulation selfishly and unjustly, but this healer certainly did not deserve to be burned at the stake alongside her. She hated these people for what they were about to do.
“For the crimes of witchcraft, fornication and consorting with the devil to twist the minds of men, you, Heather Fairchild, are sentenced to burn at the stake,” the Puritan inquisitor proclaimed across the crowd. “May God have mercy on your soul.”
He approached her funeral pyre and touched the burning torch to the kindling at her feet until they caught fire. The fire spread quickly and grew tall, licking excruciatingly at her feet and legs. So this was it, this was how she was to die. She tried to put her mind into a protective shell, tried to block out the pain of her flesh searing. But no amount of mental preparation could save her from this agony. Soon the flames consumed her, every nerve ending in her body screaming out in torture, so loud she could hardly hear her own screaming. The burning took control, the pain so intense that she finally became numb to it, and it seemed she was one with the fire that enveloped her like a long lost lover.
Then the pain stopped. Heather thought for a moment that it had succeeded in taking her life, but she opened her char-crusted eyelids and saw the watching crowd through the flames, saw the innocent crying healer about to suffer the same fate. The fire no longer burned her. Instead, the flames caressed her, dancing lovingly around her limbs. She didn’t understand why this was happening. She inhaled, flames entering and filling her lungs, and then it happened.
She remembered everything! In an instant, she remembered who she truly was, remembered that she was Fire bound in human form, remembered her centuries-long search for a stone that would make her immortal, remembered her two partners who had helped her for all these long centuries and who had not yet made an appearance in this lifetime. Being so fully embraced by the fire had ignited her memories in a way that Ayanna’s powers never had, and she was now completely self aware.
She also realized that the girl they were about to burn beside her was none other than Earth bound in human form, and the very stone she had been searching lifetimes for was dangling from a chain hanging delicately around Earth’s neck. Heather could not allow them to kill her. She had to save her.
The flames had long ago singed away the ropes that bound her to the log at her back, and she commanded them now to dissipate. The crowd gasped in horror as she stepped forward. These people had killed countless innocent women in the same way they had tried to kill her, and her righteous anger wanted to make them pay. But her ancient soul had seen enough of the world to know that these people were just lost and scared fools, blind sheep led by a handful of hateful and vindictive religious zealots. Vengeance was one of Fire’s favorite virtues, but it had to be dealt only where deserved, and it was wrong to punish someone for being a fool.
Sparing the crowd, she turned her attention to Earth, who stared at her with a mixture of relief and terror. Heather approached the confused girl and untied the ropes that bound her; the onlookers were too shocked to attempt to stop her. The girl rubbed her freed wrists, staring at Heather all the while.
“What’s your name?” Heather asked her.
“Willow. Willow Locklier,” the girl replied in a timid, weepy voice.
“Willow,” Heather said her name sweetly. “You are no witch, but something far more important. Let me take you away from here, some place safe where you will never again be persecuted.”
Willow looked up at her with large, doe-like eyes. After a moment, she nodded, then looked nervously at the crowd behind them, turning Heather’s attention back to them.
“People of Salem,” Heather proclaimed. “You are charged with the crime of ignorance. I will spare you now, but be warned that should you make any attempts to reclaim us I will burn you as you burned me.” In effigy, she lifted her arm and pointed to the funeral pyre she had escaped and willed it to ignite once more.
The crowd gasped and most of them ran in horror. Satisfied, she held her open hand out to Willow. Willow, too, looked afraid of Heather, but there was also a gleam of hope glinting in her eyes. She accepted Heather’s hand and let her lead her away from this godforsaken place.
Heather took her to the only place she could think of, her small cottage on the outskirts of town. She knew that after her demonstration, no one would dare come for them there, and if anyone did, she now had the knowledge and ability to end them. She needed a place to sit and talk with Willow and decide what their next move should be.
&nbs
p; Heather invited Willow into her home and gestured to a seat at the table. Willow shakily accepted, looking nervous as a mouse that was being cornered by a cat.
“Willow,” Heather began in as soft a voice as she could, “you have no reason to fear me. I have much to explain to you, so you must try to keep an open mind. I promise you that, like you, I am not a witch. My power over fire does not come from Hell, just as your ability to heal was not given to you by Satan. Are you open to hearing the truth about yourself?”
Willow swallowed and nodded, but her eyes were still full of distress as she looked at Heather. She was about to reassure her again that she had nothing to fear from her, but Willow finally spoke up and made it unnecessary.
“Before you say anymore, please let me heal you,” Willow pleaded. “You are so badly burned, it hurts me to look upon you knowing how much pain you must be in.”
Heather looked down at her bare arms and saw the charred and cracked flesh and seeping blood, realizing what a horrible sight she must be. She wanted to gaze into a mirror but didn’t think she could stomach what she would see in her reflection, and she understood why Willow looked so in distress. Heather nodded and opened both her hands in a gesture of submission.
Willow guided Heather to the cot and commenced placing her hands all over Heather’s body, inch by inch. Willow started with her face, which must be the most hideous part of her, and she could see out of the corner of her eyes black flakes falling as Willow proceeded downward. Heather hadn’t realized how much pain she had been in until Willow’s healing touch took it away.
By the time Willow was finished, Heather was lying naked on the cot as all of her clothes had been so burnt that they fell in shreds as Willow touched her. Heather looked down at the skin covering her body. Willow’s touch could heal, but it could not work miracles; what was once supple, pink, beautiful flesh was now a map of scars. Heather shuddered to think what her face would look like. Her beauty was one of her most useful features, without it she felt oddly incomplete. And then a silly, petty thought entered her mind—would Water still love me if he saw me this way? For the first time in all her existence, she hoped he would not find her in this lifetime, because she didn’t want to know the answer.
