Water

by Hardy, Natasha

  His arms tightened convulsively around me. “Absolutely not,” he hissed into my ear.

  I nodded. “OK.”

  His voice softened as he kissed my hair. “Nereus was here before I arrived. Talita refused to assign him to you for the very reason you had the misfortune of experiencing this evening. He disgusts me in every possible way and I have made it my life’s mission to be everything he is not.”

  “Well, you’ve succeeded in that for the most part,” I told him.

  “What do you mean for the most part?” he asked, horror filling his voice.

  I twisted in his arms, stretching up so that I could kiss him again.

  “You’ve succeeded in seducing me,” I whispered against his lips.

  He chuckled, kissing me more deeply. Eventually I pulled away from him breathlessly, settling back into the cocoon he’d formed around me.

  “Also you two were fighting each other pre-emptively,” I murmured. “Does that always happen?”

  He was instantly alert, twisting me around so that he could look at me.

  “What are you talking about?”

  I described the crystal-clear fight I’d seen them have, how I’d known Merrick would lose and how I’d been so relieved when he’d moved us away from Nereus so quickly.

  “You saw all of that?”

  I nodded, still sleepy. “Yeah, but only when you were both touching me.”

  He moved away from me, and I watched my world whither into darkness.

  “Hey,” I protested, “that’s not fair.”

  He was wide awake and really excited.

  “I thought it was because I was so angry, but I also saw what he was going to do. In crystal clarity and perfectly matched to my plan. You’re right, I would have lost and I knew it. I wanted to get you away from there.”

  “We must have both wanted it at the same time,” I chipped in.

  He nodded, thoughtful. “Possibly.”

  “So you moved us away then?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so, speed isn’t one of my talents, but perhaps…”

  He trailed off staring at me, his forehead creased in a frown.

  “Merrick?” I prompted.

  “You said you saw my intention?”

  I nodded. “Yes, it was bright orange and deep purple and very very dangerous and then immediately afterwards I could see what you were planning to do.”

  “And Nereus?”

  I nodded again, describing the similar experience I’d had with Nereus.

  “Now that you describe it, I remember it,” he whispered. “It happened so fast though, how can you remember such detail?”

  “Oh it wasn’t fast for me,” I explained. “Although maybe it was, because I only remember breathing once.”

  He pulled me protesting to my feet, and led me determinedly out of the cave and up a short pathway to the top of the mountain.

  The cool night air chilled my fire-warmed skin and I cuddled into his side as we walked, curious as to what he was up to.

  “Sit down and stop whining,” he told me playfully, before sitting opposite me. “Now tell me what you see,” he demanded gently, placing my hands in my lap and avoiding all contact.

  I concentrated, and to my surprise the darkness lightened infinitesimally.

  I described the shapes I could see and the slight sharpening of my other senses.

  “Close your eyes please.”

  Even with my eyelids firmly closed, I knew the instant his fingers brushed lightly over my skin.

  A myriad of noises filled the night. The harmonious frogs were complemented by the conversational burble of water as it ran unrelenting to the sea. The chirp of the crickets which I’d never noticed had a wide range of variety, as if a room full of little people were all talking to each other at once. The whisper of wings as an owl swooped on a bustling mouse somewhere in the valley.

  There were others senses to take into account too, the scent of the freshly crushed grass we were sitting on, the smell of water not far from us, and then Merrick’s scent – indescribable because the English language doesn’t have the right words to describe the exotic fragrance of his skin.

  I shifted my focus to touch, amazed at the textures that leapt into focus as I did so. My hair brushing my skin as a light breeze swirled it softly around my shoulders. The rougher texture of my clothing that if I concentrated too long, could become almost abrasive. The prickle of the grass along my bare legs. And most of all, the heat from the single finger Merrick had placed on my hand.

  The strangest, and most difficult sensory input to process, was taste. I’d noticed before that the air had flavours to it. I found the flavour of the air now difficult to process. There was a distinct flavour of the bush, wild and untamed, but every now and then I would get a hint of something else, that delicious something that had filled my mouth when I’d been sitting on the log – was it only yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago. This time though I held onto the flavour, trying to identify the different notes within it.

  “I want you to describe everything to me,” he instructed.

  I did, keeping my eyes closed the entire time.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered hoarsely.

  His expression sent a shudder of fear through me. He was terrified.

  “Merrick, what’s wrong?”

  He ignored me.

  “Tell me what you see,” he instructed, his eyes never leaving my face as I gazed into the night sky.

  I described as best I could the swirls of light I could see coming off the mountain, the trails the stars left behind them in the midnight-blue sky. I ended by telling him how I could see the individual colours of each strand of his hair, my stomach dropping as my strengthened senses picked up the shock in his eyes.

  “Please tell me what’s wrong,” I whispered as he finally pulled away from me, gripping his hands together.

  “I will tell you, but I have just one more question,” he said quietly. “Have your senses been this intense the whole time we’ve been together?

  I thought a little about the few days I’d spent with him before shaking my head.

  “No, they seemed to have been growing the more time we spend together, and especially after tonight.”

  He was very quiet, pulling me to my feet and leading me back to the cave where the fire had drifted into embers.

  We sat beside its smoky warmth, his arms wrapped around his knees, and his face serious in thought.

  “Merrick,” I prompted, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing is wrong exactly,” he began, flashing me a troubled smile. “It’s just that my senses are not as strong as yours.”

  I went cold.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t see the trail of light the stars are leaving behind them,” he said quietly, taking my hand in both of his and looking up at the night sky.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he said looking deep into my eyes, “but I think we might have stumbled onto your ‘talent’.”

  “I’m a Traduzir too?” I asked, a bubble of excitement forming in my stomach.

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t create energy balls between my palms.”

  “Oh yeah, right. So what can I do then?”

  “I think,” he paused, “you can do a little of everything.”

  “Everything?”

  He nodded, still frowning a little. “It’s right there in the legend of the fortieth generation Gurrer, and we’ve all missed it.” He let out a little bark of disbelieving laughter.

  “What’s right there?”

  “‘She will be a unique representation.’ Those are the exact words of the legend. A unique representation.”

  “Meaning?”

  “All Oceanids have a talent of sorts, I’ve mentioned a few of them – controlling water, being able to read spiritus like the Merrow, strength is another one, and venom…” />
  “Venom?”

  “Yeah, well you saw what Neith did to Josh and Luke?”

  I shuddered at the thought of dislocating my jaw like that and paralysing someone.

  “There are a whole lot of other ones, we’ll have to talk to Muirgel and Llyr to get a more comprehensive list, but what is definitive among all Oceanids is that we can only do one thing. I can’t make someone forget, or produce energy balls out of nowhere, or remember our entire species history. I also can’t predict what another Oceanid will do, except when Nereus and I were touching you. But if I’m right, you can do all of it, and it looks like, apart from just ‘connecting’ talents between two Oceanids you can heighten them until they morph into something new.”

  “Why?” I whispered.

  “It has to do with your genes. The fortieth generation Gurrer is so special because they are a mixture of human and Oceanid genes which seems to have produced this type of mutation.”

  “So I’m a freak,” I concluded miserably. The realisation that feeling like I didn’t fit in was because I didn’t.

  He shook his head and put an arm around my shoulders, hugging me into his side.

  “No, you are incredibly talented,” he replied quietly. “Not a freak but gifted.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes while I absorbed this information.

  “So how come I’m more powerful than you are when you touch me?” I asked.

  “I’ve been wondering about that myself,” he replied. “I think your Traduzir talents are amplified when you spend time with me, the same as when you spent time with Maya.”

  “So would that apply to other Oceanids?” I asked.

  He nodded, a flash of worry clouding his face.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m almost certain Nereus experienced the same thing we did,” he told me quietly, “and if I’m right, he’s gone back to the pod and told the wrong people all about it.”

  He shook his head, his jaw flexing. “It seems that we’re always on the back foot. Every time we discover another facet to your talents it fits even more perfectly into the war-minded Oceanids’ plan.”

  I thought through the implications of being able to predict an enemy’s movements as they planned it. The outcome wasn’t good.

  “So what are we going to do about it?”

  “I really like your strategy for peace,” he replied. “I think the combination of Oceanid and human talents to influence the way humans are behaving is exactly what we need. But I want to be able to go back to the pod with a more specific plan.”

  “OK, I agree,” I replied. “What do you need from the human side?”

  “Who do we need to influence specifically?” he asked, before continuing, “I mean obviously world leaders will help and…”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think world leaders or governments are where the problem lies,” I told him.

  He stopped mid-sentence in surprise.

  “Then who is?”

  “Well, world leaders and governments can put policies in place to protect the ocean from pollution, but they’re not going to do that unless the people consuming the resources put pressure on them.”

  “I don’t understand,” he told me, confused. “In our culture the leader determines the course of the people.”

  I nodded. “I think that’s how it used to work with us too, but that’s changing. People, ordinary people, are the ones that buy fish. Ordinary people are the ones that use cars, and ordinary people are the ones that vote governments in or out, and I think that ordinary people will be the ones to save the oceans.”

  “But there are billions of them, how are you going to reach them?”

  “We need to figure out who they are listening to, and then maybe influence those people.”

  “But that will take months!”

  I shook my head. “No I don’t think so. We can find most of that out on the internet – I’m just going to need a phone or a computer and we’ll have a start at least.”

  He was frowning again. “I don’t think that is going to placate the war-oriented Oceanids.”

  “Then what will?”

  “We need to show them that you are going to be able to take action immediately. That you are willing to ‘get your hands dirty’ – I think that’s the right English phrase.”

  “OK, so what about a two-way approach?” I suggested. “I could start by helping to clean up the ocean and at the same time we could identify and begin influencing the humans to change their behaviour. That way, at least they will see some action.”

  “It might work,” he replied thoughtfully, “I’m just not sure they will react to the human element well.”

  “I guess it’ll be up to me to make that argument then.”

  He grinned. “I guess so.” His smile faded. “I think it will help to show them the clean-up plan at the same time though, and that means showing them some of your more physical talents.”

  “Like what?”

  “The ball of energy for one, and speed – which I’m convinced was still more you than me this evening – and maybe even some strength.”

  “But how is that going to help with the clean-up?”

  “You remember the fissures in the earth’s crust I was telling you about?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, if we could take a group of Oceanids whose talents were –” he paused to think “– maybe strength and speed and energy ball effect, we could drag the pollution floating on the top into those fissures, below where any life survives and bury them there. That would leave the surface clean.”

  “What about the oil?”

  “The only way to get rid of oil is to burn it, but it takes so long and as it burns it sucks oxygen out of the water. Perhaps there’s a way to burn it faster, or change its compound…” He trailed off unhappily.

  “I’ll chat to Muirgel and Llyr about it,” I told him, “I’m sure there must be a way around it.” I stood and stretched. “Let’s get going,” I suggested, trying to find my bearings.

  He shook his head. “No, we need to develop the talents we want to demonstrate first. I don’t want you standing up in front of the pod unable to access the talents you need. A show of weakness when it comes to this plan is exactly what the war-oriented Oceanids want right now. Then they could argue that you are only suitable as a conduit to be used in war.”

  I shuddered at the idea.

  “So can we start practising?”

  He laughed, standing and leading me back to the cave.

  “No,” he murmured, his voice silken, “we sleep now. Tomorrow we’ll begin.”

  Chapter 33

  Gifted

  My eyes were grainy and sore, so I kept them closed against the brightness, of what I assumed to be sunlight. A soft breath against the back of my neck, and with it the acute awareness of being wrapped in Merrick’s arms, had me instantly awake. “Shhh you’re safe,” he muttered sleepily, as a strand of silken hair fell across my face.

  I wriggled around in the iron grip that surrounded me and watched him sleep, his breathing slow and steady, his face relaxed and unworried, reminding me that he was only a few years older than me. He always seemed so in control, so sure of the way forward. He was someone I turned to for protection and had come to trust for guidance, and yet as he slept I caught a glimpse of a man who’d been through too much too young and was just as vulnerable as I was.

  I traced the bow of his lips with my finger tip, smiling as his lips curled into a dreamy smile and his eyes slowly opened.

  He pulled me closer to him, hugging me tight and muttering a dreamy greeting before releasing me and stretching.

  I sat up, light streaming into the overhang we’d slept in, between twisting tree roots and a fringe of grass, as the rising sun reclaimed the sky.

  Merrick had rolled over from where he’d been curled around me and was evidently asleep again.

  I crept to the edge of the overhang, finding the relatively well kept s
et of rock-hewn steps leading to the top of the mountain we’d followed the night before. Following them I soon found myself on top of the world, smiling as I soaked up the incredible, if crisp and slightly damp, view.

  Every morning in these magical mountains was exquisitely different. Only a very little mist huddled in the deepest and still night-draped part of the valleys that dove in rich contrast to the rest of the soaring scenery, as it opened out in haze-drenched golden light.

  My stomach gave a little flip as I remembered snippets of the day before, all of the most exciting ones being Merrick. On any other day breathing underwater would have filled me with awe and probably a little fear. On any other day, discovering I could create a ball of energy between my palms would have been the exciting thing. But this wasn’t any other day. This was the day I got to spend the whole day with Merrick. The thought formed a bubble of joy on the inside of me so intense I couldn’t help but grin at the start to this beautiful day.

  Merrick joined me a little while later, lines of worry dropping away into a smile when he saw me enjoying the early sun as it lit up the world.

  He stood behind me quietly taking in the view.

  “So I figure,” I began, still gazing at the valley and the antagonistic mountains that soared above them, “we’d better start with energy balls soon.”

  He grinned down at me as I tilted my head back to look into his face.

  “How about a swim first?” he asked.

  He led me across the side of the valley until we reached a cliff face, then grabbing me around the waist and using a branch on one of the trees, he swung us straight at the rock face. A moment before we hit the cliff, he let go of the branch and we flew through a narrow opening in the rock into the mountain.

  He chuckled as he took my hand, the contact lighting up our surroundings and sharpening my senses enough to be able to hear and smell the water.

  We walked through a narrow passage that glistened greenly with water-supported plant life until the passage opened up into a perfectly round, rock-encased room.

  The entire space shimmered and sparkled with strange blue dots of gently pulsing light. The ceiling looked as if it had been strung with a myriad of blue fairy lights, the strands interconnected in a chaotic but seemingly purposeful pattern. A thin ledge of rock surrounded a steaming pool of water.