by Starla Night
“While worrying for the entire time.” He clasped her hand. “Passion must flood your soul. You are now, and always have been, a fierce mother and a bold protector of our community.”
She floated closer to him, her shorter legs dangling between his long legs extended even longer by the fins. “So are you.”
“Of course.” He jutted his chin. “That is why we are soul mates.”
She kissed him, and he oriented on her with the power of twenty good years of support, kindly meant, no matter how misguided. Her soul light burned bright.
And then she pulled back and patted her husband’s broad chest. “Go train with your warriors. You’re good at it, and it’s something you understand.”
He glanced at Ciran and the other women, and then took his leave, kicking his fins and surging out of the water onto the ledge.
Angie turned to Ciran, hands back on her hips, focused again. “I now understand that we are not training as warriors, so how do we train?”
“As queens.”
She squinted at him as though trying to test if he were joking. “And that means?”
“You must do whatever you need to strengthen your inner core.”
Meg lifted one hand. “I’ve got to agree with Mom here. So, are you saying we need to pick up yoga? Or do sit-ups?”
“If that increases your core power, then yes.”
The two women looked at each other.
“How do we go from this,” Meg pointed at her partially extended fins, and then jabbed her finger at the other two. “To that?”
Bex floated on the end, flipping around on her fins, in her own world. Dannika listened, but she also practiced quietly, the white light of the shield glowing around her in ghostly outline.
“If Konomelu’s training style was wrong, how do we do it right?”
“The base of a warrior’s power is his muscles. His tendons. The quickness of his blade.” Ciran flicked his wrist as if it held a dagger. “But the base of a queen’s power is the Life Tree. So she must open a channel to her Life Tree and let the energy flow through her until it becomes an unstoppable force. And that,” he tapped his chest, “happens here. In your soul. Your resonance.”
Angie vibrated an underwater sigh. “I suppose it isn’t easy or else we would have done it before now.”
“Perhaps. But you can accomplish anything if you try.”
Angie rubbed her temples. “Yoga…This seems so impractical.”
“Question.” Meg drummed her fingers on her chest. “If I’m summoning the Life Tree, why don’t I have be, like, touching the Life Tree? How is it channeling without, you know, a channel?”
“The queens usually practiced while communing with their Life Tree,” he acknowledged. “But that is just to start. The connection is within your soul, and distance does not affect resonance. Once you have felt it, you will know how to channel it again. Without a Life Tree, this is the best we can do.”
Meg and Angie both looked at Bex.
Bex shrugged.
Angie traded looks with Meg, then pressed her lips together, shook her head, and released another underwater vibration like a sigh. “Does it really make a difference? Practicing while touching a Life Tree?”
“Since it is the base of your power, I think it will never hurt. But Life Trees do not grow on the surface.”
“That…” Angie flexed her fingers and made a pleasant smile. “Isn’t entirely true. Bex? Will you show them?”
Bex kicked her fins and zoomed backward—under the rock ledge—and disappeared.
How intriguing.
The other women followed. Dannika wove her fingers with his and paddled her fragile fins. At the back wall, under the stairway, a cave spiraled down and inward like a conch shell. They soared around the coral-lined path until it opened into a small cavern.
A small white Life Tree grew upside down from the ceiling.
This close to the surface?
Impossible.
A Life Tree could only thrive in the deepest corners of the ocean. Above the vents and trenches, obviously, but above a certain depth, it could not germinate. Not in a shallow lagoon only a few feet beneath the surface.
This couldn’t be a Life Tree.
Its bare branches stretched for the floor, and it grew from the ceiling with no trunk. All the little speckles of resin drifted down to the floor instead of piling around the base as usual, but otherwise, it cast pure, radiant, white light and made subtle, beautiful, tinkling sound.
It was a Life Tree.
His heart hammered in his chest. Awe suffused him. “How is this possible?”
The women floated beneath it in the small space. There was just enough room for their community and no more to cram beneath its healing branches.
It was impossible. Unimaginable. Yet, here it was. “What human science is this?”
“Not science,” Dannika said beside him. “Scientists have tried growing it on the surface before, but even using pressurized chambers, they’ve never gotten one to sprout. How did you do it?”
“I don’t know.” Bex drifted between its branches. “The seed cracked, and Ankena thought he was burying it in the cavern floor. But it grew downward into this space.”
Its roots hugged a large sphere.
“What is this?” Ciran asked.
“We’re not sure,” Meg answered. “It’s something to do with the sacred brides and fertility, probably.”
Bex tapped it. It vibrated at a low ring. “It rang when your plane went down.”
Incredible. Even with nowhere to grow, the Life Tree had survived.
“It’s so small.” Dannika swam around its thin, sparkling tendrils. “But so beautiful.”
“I had thought I was finished experiencing wonders.” Ciran floated back. “But here is one more. No one would believe me if I told them of this. No one.”
“Right?” Meg wiggled her fingers. “Now you know what it feels like when you say we have powers.”
“Why doubt?” Angie asked her. “Aren’t you a Disney fish princess?”
“Oh my God, Mom. That’s totally different.”
“Is it?” Angie arched her brows. “Well, it seems I have no powers, Disney-inspired or otherwise.”
And that had to change.
The small group practiced for a while in the shining light of the Life Tree, but other than noting that their soul lights dimmed with disappointment and frustration when they failed to make progress, Ciran felt like he was interfering rather than helping.
“Will you tell me what to do?” Angie bent in half and touched her toes, then rotated and wriggled in the water. “I’ve gone through every pose I remember from the yoga studio when all of Howard’s work wives were so enthused with Ayurveda. It was uncomfortable then, and it’s uncomfortable now.”
“You should stop because it is not brightening your soul light.”
“All that for nothing?” She shook out her arms and legs, then scrubbed her face. “Maybe I’ve told myself no so many times I can’t find my way to yes.”
“Aw, Mom. Don’t be overdramatic. You’ll get it.”
Angie dropped her hands and cocked a brow. “Overdramatic? You haven’t seen drama, Meg. Like what will happen to our trainer if I. Don’t. Get. This.”
Ciran held up a peaceful hand. “You should focus on what is comfortable.”
“Nothing is comfortable.” Angie shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Then perhaps you should start again. You will never develop your powers with a dimmed soul.”
Angie glared daggers at him. Dannika rested a hand on his forearm to stop him from responding. Angie flexed her fingers and her toes, then shook herself in frustration.
“She must not continue on her current path,” he vibrated quietly to Dannika. “Her efforts exhaust her and only darken her soul. I do not know how to help her.”
“Mm. I’ve seen this before.”
“You have?”
“In the dating world. It’s common
when a well-educated, strongly motivated, high achiever fails to find their match. They’re so used to accomplishment on the timeline they’ve given themselves to succeed that any perceived setback threatens their very identity.”
Angie glared at him again. “Now am I glowing?”
“No.”
She tensed all her muscles, then abruptly relaxed and rubbed her cheeks. “Ah, I’m going to give myself wrinkles.”
His presence was definitely hindering rather than helping, and they had no time to waste. He squeezed Dannika’s hands. “I will leave this with you.”
She clung on. “Can we really be ready in a week?”
The others stopped practicing to listen to his answer.
He hoped so. “The only one who knows that answer is you.”
The Life Tree made a cleansing, tinkling sound of hope.
But it was so fragile and unprotected here. No wonder the castaways had avoided showing them.
The world outside was hostile. If the Luscans learned of its existence, the king would likely violate the sanctuary just to rip it out by the roots.
Dannika and the other women must develop their powers.
Everything depended on them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ciran kicked out of the little hollow, the gorgeous upside-down snow globe cavern that encased the Life Tree, leaving an encouraging squeeze with Dannika.
It was up to her.
She kicked to Angie. “I am guessing that you’ve been phenomenally successful in your life.”
The older woman wrinkled her nose. “I used to think so. But it has been a very long time since I’ve practiced yoga.”
“The point of yoga is to put yourself into a meditative, focused state, and open yourself to possibilities.”
“Like the possibility of failure?”
“Mom.”
“Any new skill requires a period of learning,” Dannika said calmly. “But if yoga doesn’t put you into the right mindset, then let’s brainstorm different ways you can release your tension and open yourself to the universe. Or the Life Tree.”
She nodded, her lips pinched, and Dannika tried to tease out of her the things she did to relax, feel centered, and make decisions.
Meanwhile, Bex zoomed around the small arena, and Meg watched in awe.
“How do you make it look so easy, Bex?” Meg asked.
“Focus on what you want.” Bex’s human feet elongated and stretched into fins. “And shift.”
Dannika closed her eyes.
She had the power. She had the power. She had the power…
Ciran’s voice echoed in her head. His words of encouragement, his kisses, his patience.
I believe in you, Dannika. Anchor your faith to me. You can turn back the storm.
Her toes tingled. She stretched and opened her eyes. Her feet flattened out, long and slender, and her polished toenails looked funny spread out at the ends of a scuba diver’s flippers.
She could do it.
Angie made a noise of frustration. “You, too. I’m the only one who will never get this.”
“Did you flex?” Meg rotated her right ankle, which was half-shifted to fin. “Or what?”
“I want to see Ankena and Lukiyo again,” Bex said. “And then I thought, ‘Let’s go.’”
“You thought, ‘Let’s go,’ and your fins went?”
“Yeah. More or less.”
“That makes sense,” Dannika interjected. “You are in touch with your true desire, and it empowers every movement. Good job.”
Bex smiled shyly.
“Okay.” Meg closed her eyes and lifted her index fingers. “I want to see Ankena and Lukiyo again. Let’s go.” She kicked, and her half fins rolled up into ordinary feet again. She opened her eyes and laughed. “Whoops. Wait, wait. I want to see Itime and Tulu again. … Mm, apparently I don’t. What do I want?”
“I feel very content,” Angie said. “Is that the problem? I’m too able to accept the deprivations of island life?”
“You don’t fall asleep dreaming of carrot cake,” Meg said.
“No. Maybe my favorite facial cleanser and whitening serum.” Angie rubbed her cheek. “You will swim out of here and leave me behind.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I solve the squid problem. How about…I want to have a nice swim without being swarmed by flying squids?” Meg flexed her human feet. “Nope. I thought I wanted that, though. Man, it’s a mystery what I want.”
They tried on a bunch of “I want” phrases trying to get clear on their true desires, and even though they didn’t make a lot of progress, their uplifting encouragement and jokes and laughter seemed to make the Life Tree glow.
Little sparkles winked on Meg’s skin like glitter.
“You’re sparkling,” Angie told her.
“Oh? Again!” Meg closed her eyes. Her body glowed, and the Life Tree chimed, and the sparkles all floated away. She opened her eyes, the smile breaking over her face as if she were awakening from a wonderful dream, and she shivered. “All gone.”
Huh.
“What was that?” Dannika asked. “What did you do just now?”
“Oh, that was just my Disney princess power again.” Meg swirled her fingers through the water and the flecks of glitter twinkled. “At least these guys aren’t annoying. Itime said they’re little creatures, like plankton, and just like everything else, they’re attracted to me. On the shore…well, you saw how it usually is.”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t shield you.”
Meg waved her apology away. “We’re all struggling with these powers. And it didn’t use to be so bad. I cruised the coral every day. One day? Attack of the squids.”
“And there was no warning?”
“None.”
“Hmm. How did you get the plankton to drop away just now?”
“I do this little mantra.” Meg closed her eyes and touched her temples. “I think, ‘Thanks for coming by, little guys, now scoot’ and then poof.”
The Life Tree glowed.
She opened her eyes and smiled again. “Away they float.”
“If you said that to the squid, then you could go in the ocean again.”
Her face fell. Little bits of glitter stuck to her again, winking. “That’s why I wish pushing stuff was my power. I’d shout at the squids, ‘Go on, get out of here! Get off my lawn!’ But, no.”
The tinkling of the Life Tree sounded sadder and more discouraged.
“At least you know your power.” Angie lifted her fingers and teased them through the water. “How do I know?”
Dannika refocused. “At the risk of being annoying, I’d like to point out, Meg, that you shooed away the plankton without pushing them. So you don’t have to go against your preference. If anything, I think you should lean into your true desires, which in this case sounds like gratitude. You thanked the plankton for coming by to say hi. Can you do that to the squids?”
Meg bit her lip.
Yeah, Dannika knew what it sounded like. Just stand in front of the squid hurricane and say, “Hey, thanks for coming by, off you go now.” It warranted the skepticism.
But she continued, “And Angie, don’t hate me for saying this, but I think if something makes you feel powerful, it’s your power.”
Angie cocked her brow. “If something makes me feel powerful, it’s my power? Have you considered writing motivational speeches or greeting cards?”
She laughed. “I know. I know.”
Angie shook her head.
“Dannika’s right,” Bex said.
“My power is whatever makes me feel powerful?” Angie asked with a wry vibration.
“It’s in your mind. I have a certainty when I’m doing this.” Bex flexed, and her feet snapped out to fins, then snapped back to human feet. “You have to feel it.”
Angie put her hands on her hips again.
Bex tapped her forehead. “It’s mental. Like babies.”
“Like babies?” Dannika repeated.
Bex and Angie both looked at Meg.
“Okay, so, it’s just a hypothesis. But.” Meg held out her hands in a pause gesture. “We each had an ‘I want to have this man’s babies’ moment and then got pregnant. Like, the next day. And not just once, but with every kid.”
Bex nodded.
Angie lifted her brows and her chin in “a lady never tells” expression, but that basically admitted that she agreed.
“Tulu is closer to Hadali’s age than Nuno or Lukiyo. Why? Because a year after theirs,” Meg indicated Bex and Angie, “I was like, ‘We’re doing it all the time. What’s the holdup?’ But subconsciously, I expected to get off the island and go back to grad school, and I always planned to have kids after grad school. One day I was watching baby Nuno play with baby Luk, and I thought, ‘Yeah, okay. Maybe we’ll never get off this island, maybe I’ll never go to grad school. Do I want to be a mom? I guess I’m ready to be a mom.’ But I really felt it, you know? A day later, I had morning sickness.”
They only got pregnant when they wanted to…
It made sense. The mind-body connection of mer, their Life Tree, and healing was so much stronger.
Meg summed it up. “I wanted a kid, I had a kid. I wanted another kid, I had another kid. Etcetera.”
“The first set of twins exhausted me,” Angie said. “And I was ready to stop. But then Meg had another cutie, and I thought, maybe one more…”
“And that was the same for me,” Meg said. “Each time mine passed the baby stage. And now my youngest is four, and after what happened to Luk, I…” She glanced at Bex and quickly away, picking at the sparkles sticking to her fingers. “Well, we’re going to leave the island pretty soon. I don’t want to move while I’m pregnant, anyway.”
Angie also frowned.
Bex shrugged. “I always wanted two.”
Angie and Meg both smiled at her gently.
But Dannika also heard what they hadn’t said.
Meg’s youngest would have been a year old when Lukiyo had been taken.
It was all a mind-body connection.
Meg was calling the sea creatures to her, subconsciously, and she used to have it under control…
“Is that when the squids started attacking?” Dannika prodded gently. “Three years ago?”
