Selexi glared at her daughter and came close to her, bringing her face so near that Anaya could smell her breath – rancid and rotten. “Now you listen to me. I have not worked this hard and waited this long to have you back out now like a sniveling bondo. You are going to beat that little runt and marry Grideon.
Selexi circled the room, lifting the rolls of paper and punctuating the air with them. “Love! Love can’t conquer this!” She opened one of the maps. Miranda will die on this quest and we are going to turn this island into a great dynasty!”
Anaya was skeptical. “You changed the routes?”
“Are you doubting my methods?”
“No, but….”
Selexi dismissed Anaya’s complaint with a gesture. She turned back to her bottles and tubes. “You leave everything to me. Right now I’m on the verge of a very important breakthrough that will make all our dreams come true. Run along now. You have a quest to begin tomorrow – and I must continue my work.”
The Quest Begins
Dense morning fog lingered over the island, the damp coolness a welcome relief from the blazing rays of the past months. The wind was high and brought grey mist inland one layer upon another, making the air thick.
A crowd grew as friends and family arrived to witness the departure of the Young Warriors on their great quest to save them from starvation. The men, having not yet returned to sea, stood alongside their families. The High Council huddled in a cluster near the water’s edge, their ceremonial pale green robes billowing in the wind, faces somber in the ashen light. In front of them, two large ships rocked noiselessly on the undulating waves like giant albatrosses.
The girls’ camions reposed on shore; heads up, giant cat eyes blinking lazily, bellies against the sand. Soon they would be led onto the ships and taken into the hull where clean stalls awaited them.
Dosha raised a mallet high. She swung it hard against the gong and the crowd hushed. The metallic vibration reverberated in waves as Miranda and Anaya were brought in front of the High Council to receive their instructions.
Dosha looked at both girls with a depth that reflected the seriousness of their mission. “This is the beginning of a long and arduous journey – a journey which will end in triumph, failure, or death. We need at least ten stones for the rainmaking ceremony. Do not try to get more – their potency lasts only a short period and the extra time it will take you could cost you your lives. Deamons await you in the stone field on the summit. You must get past them twice; once to find a way around the wall, behind which the stones blossom and a second time to escape their pursuit of you as you leave the field … if you get that far.”
She signaled to Theya, who brought over two small amber colored bottles filled with a murky brown liquid. Each bottle was attached to a thin brown leather rope. Theya hung one around Anaya’s neck, and the other around Miranda’s. “This is your supply of transformational potion. Use it wisely.”
Bajo handed Dosha four rolled up layers of parchment. “The captains of your ships have the sea route maps to get you to your starting point on Sarona. These are the maps of the island itself. Miranda will land at the North end, Anaya the South. They are equidistant from the summit where the stones grow, in the center of the island.
These maps are unmarked. We leave it to you to find your way to the field as you see fit. You must return to your vessels by the quarter moons waxing at the apex. After that, the sea will be too dangerous to cross, leaving you stranded on Sarona until the tide changes back, many moon cycles from now.”
The girls slid the parchments into their pouches.
Madeeka stepped forward. “You are now to receive for the first time swords that can transform or kill.” She pointed to the levers in the handle. “Yellow is for transformation. Black is death. Use the black lever only as a last resort.” They accepted the swords and placed them into the sword holders on their hips.
Dosha continued. “Using all your knowledge and wisdom to withstand the trials ahead of you will be essential to your chances of returning home safely. Be wise, be brave and be victorious. Remember, we are depending on you for our very survival. Now go.”
Cheering erupted as the girls made their way toward the water and it continued as they reached shore’s end.
Miranda’s family came down to say their goodbyes. Freya tugged at Miranda’s cloak. Miranda knelt down and hugged her little sister, then stood up and faced Athedra, who was proud, but reluctant to see her daughter depart. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m very proud of you….” Her voice choked off, with the unsaid “if” hanging in the air; if you don’t return….
“I will be fine, Mother.”
Athedra nodded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pewter charm, which hung on a thick silver chain. Miranda immediately recognized it as the necklace her grandmother wore in the old photograph. It was the rain goddess; with the piercing gaze and fiery hair and a Red Larimar stone at her heart. Since that picture had been taken, the charm had aged. It was now tarnished and more outlined in its crevices. The stone, however, was still clean and clear.
Athedra fastened the necklace around Miranda’s neck. “This belonged to your grandmother.”
“The stone; it’s …” Miranda started.
“Yes, my darling. It’s a Red Larimar.”
“But, how did she...?” Miranda wasn’t sure how to phrase the question.
“You know Your grandmother, Angala, was the last Larimar hunter. After her disappearance, no one has had the courage to take her place.”
Miranda let this sink in. “And now I am taking her place.”
“That’s right. I found this amongst her things. I think she would have wanted you to have it.”
Miranda had been six when she noticed her grandmother’s absence. She missed the feeling of closeness. She felt understood by Angala, maybe because they shared a connection that surpassed the material world. Her grandmother spoke of things she wanted to hear about, weaving stories that were laden with adventure and wisdom. When they were together, Miranda had a heightened sense of reality that was like a strong anchor in her small world.
She was continuing the work of her grandmother? The potential danger of her voyage was becoming clearer to her now. Sensing a deeper purpose to this journey, she realized she had another responsibility – to collect the stones in place of the person she loved most.
Miranda embraced Athedra once more, then turned to find Grideon waiting, flowers in hand. He suddenly looked unusually fragile and solitary. It had always been he who left her behind when he went away on trading missions and expeditions of all kinds.
But there had been a joyous sense of adventure to his departures. This was different – somehow morose and bleak. She held him tightly, feeling his strong arms around her, sensing a new strength inside her that she hadn’t known before.
And this new confidence made her love Grideon more ardently because it was suddenly clear to her that he loved her no matter what happened. She had a momentary urge to take his hand and escape far up into the mountains; to shirk this responsibility and be the way they were before – innocent children, free and full of wonder.
Instead, she took the flowers, stepped into the rowboat, next to Satrah, and let herself be pulled away from everything she knew and loved. At least she had Satrah and her dear Cavalo.
On the other side of the shore, Selexi held Anaya’s shoulders tightly, giving her final instructions. “Stay focused and keep a sharp eye out. Do not trust anyone. And if you get a chance to impede Miranda, take it. Take it and run and don’t look back. Do you understand, child?”
Anaya nodded. “Yes, Mother.”
The horn sounded.
Anaya walked away.
“Remember, it’s all up to you!” called her mother.
Anaya heard this final charge and boarded the rowboat to her ship.
Horns blasted. The anchors came up with a grating noise, freeing the ships to move out to sea. The crowd erupted with fresh hoots,
hollers and cheers. Musicians played a farewell fanfare then a few songs that inspired dancing on the beach. Hats were thrown in the air, babies were kissed, and the seed of hope was planted.
Astriella flew up to Miranda as she was boarding. Miranda smiled, “I was hoping to see you!”
Astriella alighted on Miranda’s shoulder, giggling. “Mind if I come along?”
“It’s going to be too dangerous for a fairy.”
“You’ll protect me.”
Miranda grinned. “Of course I will, if you really want to come along. Hop on!”
“I do, I do!” sang Astriella.
Now she also had Astriella, who had perched on her shoulder. The two ships diverged, forming a V shaped wake as they headed toward opposite ends of Sarona. Miranda looked our to the beach, trying to make out her mother, sister, and Grideon, but she could only vaguely discern their shapes. They grew smaller and smaller, until they blended in with the larger ameoba made up of hundreds of waving arms, which reminded her of the sea vegetables waving in the current.
She closed her eyes, lost in the thought of swimming beneath the surface, watching the tide make the weeds dance. When she looked again, the shore was gone. All she saw was boundless blue water.
As the boat traveled briskly away from all that she knew, Miranda stood at the railing, listening to the last of the cheering as it died away. That was replaced by the sound of rushing water, reminding her of a waterfall flowing into a deep pool.
The deck hands ran here and there, while the captain barked out orders above all the noise: flowing water, running footsteps, the clanking of gear and the scraping of crates as they were organized to the captain’s satisfaction.
Miranda let all the sounds merge into one another. She gazed out into the distance with her hand firmly around the pendant, still stunned by what it meant.
PART 2
Which Path to Take?
Miranda and Astriella ate breakfast at the end of a long table in the dining room of the great ship. Some of the crew sat in a cluster at the other end. Astriella had her own tiny plate, bowl, utensils and a drinking cup and as they were polishing off the last of the stewed grains one of the crew approached Miranda saying, “The captain has requested your presence in the control room.”
Miranda gulped down the last of her morning tea and climbed up the winding staircase, Astriella following behind. The walls swayed with the waves and wind. Miranda pulled open the flap of her front pocket. “You’d better hop in here. It’s pretty rocky,” she said. Astriella gratefully jumped into the safe refuge.
The stairway was dark and narrow and Miranda could hardly see the slippery stairs. She held tight to the railing and as she neared the top, a thin beam shone beneath the door, painting a yellow strip of light across her cloak that traveled downward as she ascended. When she opened the door, her eyes were flooded with dazzling sunlight. Cool layers of mist clung to her face and hands. Astriella huddled deeper into the pocket.
Miranda blinked several times, and when her eyes had adjusted she noticed the boundless sky and the tufts of white that skidded across it. It was noisy on deck; the crew was busy retying knots, shifting sails, loading and unloading crates, and climbing impossibly high rope ladders.
Captain Tinnon stood at the helm of the control room behind a thick sheet of glass, a trail of smoke rising from her pipe. She waved to Miranda, inviting her up.
When Miranda reached the door to the control room, it was opened by Brondi, the first mate, who wore a red bandana around her forehead and a patch over one eye. Brondi looked at Miranda sideways, sizing her up.
When the door was closed, she was surprised at how quiet it was. No howling wind, no shuffling cargo, no squeaking sail lines – only the steady hum of the motor as it purred beneath them. The combined scents of pipe tobacco and sea salt hung still and heavy in the damp air.
Captain Tinnon had short grey hair and wore an unlikely sea cap made of black canvas that was propped on her head like a lopsided cake. She clenched the pipe between her teeth while she spoke out of the side of her mouth. “Miranda,” she started, puffing several times, smoke fanning out in swirling patterns. Brondi adjusted dials on the console while the captain coaxed her pipe. Miranda waited.
Astriella poked her head up. The first thing she saw was the map that the captain had been given by the High High Council. It was pinned to the wall.
Tinnon took out a pointer and ran it over the path indicated on the map. “The route they have given us is far too treacherous. Your High High Council told me I must stay on the path dictated here or your quest will not be valid, even if you do win. But I can’t take you this way. It’s too risky, you see. We’ll all die if we attempt it.” She chewed on the pipe and stared at the map, as if looking at it long enough would change the route.
Miranda immediately sensed that something wasn’t right. The High Council would never send her into a death trap, putting her mission to procure the stones in jeopardy. The map must have been tampered with. “Selexi!” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” asked Tinnon, cocking her head.
Miranda felt a bubble of rage inflate inside her, threatening to pop. The idea is to get me out of the way. Selexi would be found out, perhaps, and punished. But by then her goal would be accomplished – I would be dead. She would endure the prison sentence but could direct Anaya, who would likely still be appointed Sultana, from her dungeon cell. And Anaya could pardon her own mother with enough guile. So that was her plan!
She thought for a moment. If she took another route, her quest might be invalid, even if she did obtain the stones. The only way to truly win was to beat both mother and daughter at their own game. But how?
She thought of Angala and anger transformed into determination, which quickly melded into a steel like wall around her. She met Captain Tinnon’s worried expression with a hard look. “We will take the route on the map.”
Tinnon was taken aback by the Young Warrior’s fiery gaze. She frowned.
“It’s suicide.” She touched the parchment with the pointer again and traced the red line. “It is a more direct route and it appears we would arrive faster. But we will be torn apart by powerful storms here and here, unless we happen to pass through in between storms.”
Bronti scoffed, “We can’t predict when they will hit.”
“That’s right,” echoed the captain. “These storms strike without warning.”
She let the pointer rest on a spot with two words – Death Hollow. “Besides the storms, we will pass through the territory of the tarwox.”
Miranda had heard of the deadly tarwox, a vicious sea monster that had terrorized seafaring travelers for centuries. No one had been able to slay or repel it.
Captain Tinnon held a telescope up to her eye. She surveyed the horizon, drawing slow lines back and forth, up and around. Then something caught her eye – a grey patch.
“There’s a mean storm brewing in that direction. If we go around the other way, we’ll avoid trouble.”
“But that will take too long! We must follow this route,” Miranda insisted. “I’ll stay up here with you. If I want to turn back, I’ll let you know.”
Tinnon exchanged a worried glance with Brondi. “Once we enter Death Hollow, there is no turning back.”
At Miranda’s unrelenting insistence, the Captain had acquiesced to take the route charted on the map and they had forged on. Now it was night and Miranda lay in her bunk, doubting herself. She clutched the pendant and listened to footsteps trampling above her and noticed her hand was indented and reddened from the charm pressing into her skin.
She was further kept awake by the sounds of pelting rain and rushing water. She lifted her head and checked on Astriella, who was curled up next to her, fast asleep. She lay her head back again, thoughts circling her mind. I’m not a particularly willful girl. Why did I insist on putting everyone at risk? I’m not going to beat this. We should turn back.
She climbed down from her cot a
nd got dressed. I’ll go right to the captain and get us back to where we were. Everything will be fine.
In the control room, Brondi tried to steady the vessel as the boat raced forward. Lightning flashed more frequently, casting a bewitching glow of white across the vast sea. Sails flapped violently, straining at their ropes. Behind them, the tarwox, unhindered by the storm, was on the prowl and propelled itself toward the ship. It was hungry.
In the control room, the motor strained, whined, and finally slowed to a sickening moan. The gauge was way up, the gears groaning for release. Brondi knew the reason why. They had hit a dense patch of high growing seaweed. In normal circumstances, a diving team would be sent down to cut the tangled plants away.
But the tarwox was moving faster than they were and would be upon them before they could get their gear on. Besides, the headlamps would draw the creature to them like moths to a flame. The captain would have to be awakened.
The tarwox, who had been following at a safe distance, took notice of the whining rudders. It recognized the sound, its limited brain interpreting this as a sign that its prey was growing tired. Coming up for air, it raised its ghastly head above the surface, exposing a grotesque face, and let out a long, haunting howl that echoed into the blackness. Then it sank down to swim with new vigor toward its victim.
The howl reverberated throughout the ship, rousing the captain from her fitful slumber. She heard the sickening sound, sprang out of bed and yanked the emergency whistle hard. Hearing the alarm, the crew rolled out of their cots and scrambled into their rain gear.
The camions, locked in stalls down below, pawed at the doors and growled. Brondi looked at the gauge. It was pushing well into the red as she tried in vain to back out. She was beginning to panic when Tinnon burst in. “Take her out!”
“I’m trying to, but we’re in a tangle! Stuck in the seaweed!” she cried.
As she came up to the deck, Miranda heard the whistle and witnessed the pandemonium that followed. She was too late – the beast was upon them.
The Larimar Quest (Island Of Zarada Book 1) Page 8
