Enchantress Sacrifice

by Denice Hughes Lewis

  We walk until sunrise shoots splashes of brilliant pink in the sky. At the southernmost tip of the island, the sea gives way to a mass of tumbling black rock. A silent, crippled forest stands encased in instant death from an explosion of lava long ago.

  I feel nothing.

  We continue north and east, leaving no trail. Huge boulders of glassy black rock give way to a stream. It flows under a large, bowed tree turned to stone.

  “Wait inside,” Bryntar says.

  She disappears over the lava flow.

  I am glad of the rest. Cave life has not prepared me for traversing an island. My legs

  ache. It is more than that. Fear rides inside my body on knots of tension.

  Time crawls, like the shiny iridescent insect poking through grass by the edge of the water. Relief spreads through me when Bryntar appears with roots of wild plants. We eat in silence.

  She finally speaks. “Eastern shore does not change.”

  “There are no villages by the ocean?”

  “Keprys fear sea. Live inland.”

  “Then that is where I want to go.”

  Bryntar leaps up. “Too dangerous.”

  “It is my right to see who I have to risk my life to save.”

  Her shoulders shrug, heavy with acceptance. “We wait until dark.”

  I have nothing more to say and sleep until Bryntar wakes me. We move out of the protection of the stone arch. Moonlight silvers the landscape. Bryntar leads the way like a specter in the shadows. Solid rock turns to pebbles under my bare feet and then into soft dirt. Another spectacular sunrise tries to touch my heart. I watch it coldly. Maybe this is the way to control my feelings. By not having any.

  A long time later, the sun radiates over the landscape and I breathe deeply. Bryntar crouches behind a barrier of brambles that tower over my head.

  I peer through a hole in the thorns. A young girl skips along the edge of planted fields and picks wildflowers. Her pink-tinged, chubby face has big eyes that light up when she discovers another flower. She laughs when she picks it, a sound so pure and sweet that it breaks through my defenses. Warm tingles of energy fill me in response to her unblemished innocence.

  A sharp call sends her running. In the distance, her mother stands silhouetted against the thatched huts of the Kepyrs.

  I whisper to avoid detection. “How many Kepyr villages are on the island?”

  “Three large.”

  “Do you know how many people?”

  “You fail? Enough for biggest sacrifice to Aru.”

  Though the sun is hot, I am as cold as ice. “Take me home.”

  “We cross in dark.”

  Until nightfall, we spy on the Kepyrs. I am amazed at the variety of these beautiful people. The sun tans their skin in colors ranging from light to dark. Their blond, red, and brown hair shines over strong, healthy bodies. The love displayed in the family units makes me long to be with them, long for what my mother could have given me. Children happily work in the fields with their families, encouraged and protected.

  There is darkness, too. When a chief promenades through the fields, the people transmit fear and awe. Prayers and kneeling are forced upon the workers while unintelligible words boom from their religious leaders.

  Power and greed are not only attributes of the Ice Lords. They bloom here. This society is no different from the ones I read about in my underground library. Keeping the natives uneducated and in fear is the surest way to maintain control.

  Emotion exhausts me as twilight overtakes the day. Will I ever learn control?

  Bryntar rises to lead us home. I take one last look through the thorn thicket and wonder what my life might have been.

  The face of a young boy stares back at me. His eyes grow wide with fright. He races back to his village screaming, “Violet eyes. Violet eyes.”

  Blood slips down my spine and roots me to the ground.

  Bryntar lifts me. Races back toward the way we came, leaping over obstacles that stand in her way. She covers ground fast. Her heart beats next to mine. I hope for the same safety as the first time she carried me.

  A drum beats through the darkness. More and more join it and pound in time with my beating heart. I tremble uncontrollably and do not understand how my body can work separately from my mind.

  “Control,” Bryntar hisses.

  Concentrate on one thing. Focus. I count her steps. One, two, three. The shaking stops when I reach five hundred and three, a tiny lesson to remember in the days to come. Do not let my mind wander. Change the unwanted thought to something else and repeat it to the exclusion of all else.

  “Will they catch us?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I search her feelings to see if she tells the truth. Her confidence gives me mine.

  The cloudy night covers our movements. We eventually reach the beginning of the lava flow. Bryntar turns north and anticipates my question.

  “Kepyrs not expect this way. Treacherous.”

  She places me on the ground. We climb down the jagged rocks and stand on a ledge overlooking the ocean. Eerie fog rolls along the water and muffles the thunder of the waves.

  Rain spews from crashing storm clouds.

  Bryntar turns me to face her. “Much danger in Eastern Seas.”

  Torches of fire flicker in the distance. I cannot hear the drums, but they thump inside my head.

  She says, “We swim deep. Safer from storm.”

  Ready to do anything to escape the beating of the drums, I plunge into the sea.

  Nine: The Swimming

  Cold bites into me. Waves toss, twist, tear. Dark water hides the surface. For the first time in my life, I am thankful I do not have to breathe air, for it is impossible to discern up from down.

  Something hard brushes my body and snatches my arm. I choke on a mouthful of seawater. My hair lights up. I see Bryntar. The terror in her eyes fades. She encloses me in her arms and kicks to the surface. Wind and water lash our faces.

  “Swim north.” She coughs as waves devour us. “Home is west of Ice Mountains.”

  I do not allow myself to think about why she is telling me this.

  Wind smashes the water. A huge swell lifts us up. Up. Up. Up. To the top of a huge wave of swirling black water. We drop down, down, down. The undertow drags me deep. My arms rip away from Bryntar’s. Ocean currents spit me into the air. Catch me and roll me over the surface. Bryntar roars and then there is nothing but the maddened sea. I strain to feel her. She is gone.

  A bolt of lightning slashes across the sky.

  I scream, “Come and hit me! I do not want to live without Bryntar!”

  Thunder booms overhead. My hair glows. Lightning sizzles through the water

  and strikes me, jolting, white-hot. And still I live, at one with the light that fills me with energy and shining heat. I do not care.

  Giant waves toss me like a twig. I flow up…down…up…down. Thoughts of Bryntar creep into my mind. She would not want me to give up and I hate the knowing. The lump in my heart grows heavier. My legs weaken. I cling to the idea that she can survive somehow, even in the thrashing of this relentless storm. It is all I have to hope for.

  I plead with the sea. “Please bring her back to me.”

  Waves slap me in the face. I am alone for the first time in my life. I wonder how long the light in my hair can last if I let go and drop to the bottom of the sea, to never take another breath of light. Battered, I go under too many times to count and finally stop struggling. I sink down, a slow descent into deep calm. There I drift in darkness.

  Fish dart in this quiet depth. I feel their lightness, but can see nothing.

  A beautiful song floats through the water. My soul vibrates with the melody. Warm body after warm body glides next to me and away. My hair shines and I see the creatures.

  Several gray bodies swim around me. They are huge, as long as trees, but my senses tell me these creatures mean no harm. I relax. Stare in awe at their grace and know that they breathe air. Do
I want to return to the surface for light? Or die in these depths? I swim to a smaller creature and straddle its tail, giving myself a later choice. Holding tight, and thankful to touch a gentle soul, I close my eyes and merge with the glory of an animal at home in the water.

  My mind floats in and out of consciousness, at total peace. I lose all sense of time, aware only of the cold sea washing over me, the warmth of the body next to me, the rhythm of a strong, slow heartbeat.

  Much later, the creature ascends. Faster. Faster. It bursts into air, spraying water from the hole on the top of its body. I wipe my face and look around. The storm has passed, leaving a calm sea. Where is the island? I see nothing but water in the still-dark night. My ride starts to submerge. It has been too long since sunlight filled my hair. To stay underwater with my companions and die becomes my next choice.

  I whisper, “Thank you,” and let go to become a lonely speck in the vast ocean.

  Clouds drift away from a shining moon. The dark silhouettes of mountains stand stark in the light. Numb in frigid water, I stroke slowly. My legs hang in heaviness. I have little

  desire to think. Where is the light within when I need it? I know that strong emotion seems to connect me to the energy. I am too tired to feel anything.

  Water churns behind me and I twist. A creature slithers through the waves, long and black. Sharp spines ridge a sinuous back. Ancient pictures in the library flash in my mind.

  Sea serpent.

  I tremble and duck under the water, trying to hide the light that shimmers, unbidden around my hair. I know without doubt controlling fear means controlling my power. I remember the spikes protruding from the massive snake-like head, the glowing eyes, the teeth as large as my hand. I refuse to hold the images in my mind and replace them with images of home. The light in my hair fades. I remain motionless, hoping I am too small, too insignificant for consideration.

  Hunger overpowers my every sense, drowning me with a desire for the unusual thing in the water ahead—me. I fight to pull out of the serpent’s feelings as it surges forward.

  I cannot reach land or out-swim the creature. I surface and face it. Can it feel my thoughts? I calm myself, even though heartbeats bang in my throat. My feelings merge with the monster, warning it of danger.

  The sea serpent stops. Rears its ugly head out of the water. Red eyes stare into mine as it swings back and forth over me in indecision. It breaks our connection. My feelings snap back, stinging.

  The serpent bellows, maw drooling green poison. It plunges toward me.

  Raw horror expands the light in my hair. It radiates over the water and blinds the monster. The head crashes into the sea. Misses. Strikes in fury again.

  I dive underwater. It thrashes around me. Scales whip over my leg. I shriek as it cuts into my flesh. The tide pushes me to the surface.

  The serpent hovers over me. Shrieks in fury.

  I cannot breathe. Or think. Or move.

  The monster lunges.

  I dive sideways into the churning waves, terrified. Consumed by fear, I am unable to stop the light from circling my head like a beacon.

  The monster attacks again. Exhausted and having no knowledge of how to use my power, I sink underwater. The light around me disappears. I hold as still as possible.

  The information about sea serpents does not explain their acute sense of smell. I feel the monster searching, searching. It will find me.

  I surface and wait for death. My only hope is that the pain will be quick. Goodbye, Bryntar. I love you.

  The water suddenly quiets to shining black. I look around in desperation. The sea serpent snakes toward me. Deadly. Silently.

  A rumble erupts from deep within the island. Aru?

  The ocean floor heaves as the earthquake hits. Waves throw me toward the shore and catch the serpent in a maelstrom. It writhes in the whirlpool, roars and disappears under the sea.

  I stare in shock. It would have been easier to die now instead of waiting for the time when Aru wants my soul. I am too numb to care or understand why the beast saved me. I close my eyes in exhaustion, propelled by a powerful tide rushing toward the rocky shore.

  Ten: The Searching

  A yank on my hair shocks me into awareness. Salt sticks my eyes closed. Rubbing them, I moan and squint in the bright light. Black rocks blur, then clear. My mind adjusts to a feeling that is enclosing, protective. A seabird jerks harder on my hair.

  “Get away.” I scare the squawking thing and moan.

  Damp sand cools my back. There is no memory of landing on the beach. Judging from the daggers of pain knifing through me, it was not a soft landing. Everything aches. I inhale sunshine that touches me in warmth and gasp a smaller breath to ignore protesting muscles. Sunlight means one thing. It is necessary to seek shelter or be discovered.

  I wiggle stiff toes, legs and arms and sit up to lean against the rocks towering over my head. Bruises cover most of my skin in colors of black, red and yellow. One wound from the sea serpent throbs on my leg. There is little hope of discovering a healing plant here that can rid me of the growing infection.

  I wobble to my knees and hold onto a rock. Groaning, I peek out. The beach is empty save for waves washing sand and birds scavenging sea debris. Walking means searing pain. My choices are slim. I need protection and food . . . and Bryntar.

  Gritting my teeth, I limp forward.

  “Think of something besides the pain.” My voice is barely a croaked whisper. Bryntar seeps into my mind.

  “Think of something else.”

  The caverns of home fill my mind as I hobble next to the cliffs that shelter the beach. It is strange to think of being so far away and on my own, exposed. Home means safety with Taroc, peace in the underground gardens, interest in the boy who fills an unfamiliar place in my thoughts. I push away doubts of finding my way back.

  Each step is torture. I hide between boulder, stone, tree snag and cleft. My bare feet strike sharp pebbles, muscles shriek in weakness, welts thump all the way to my head. My vision swims in and out of focus as my mind wavers between wakefulness and sleep. There is no way to know how much time passes. Clinging to a rock and breathing heavily, I push myself on and miss seeing the driftwood. I trip and sprawl across the sand. Spasms roar through me like a wild beast, making it impossible to breathe. Please. Please. Let me die. Pain and loss slice into my heart. I burst into tears and sob out of control.

  Birds suddenly shriek, swooping at me with open wings. Tears stream down my face and shudders course through my body. Barely able to see, I peer over a stone. Baby birds with fuzzy heads chirp in a nest. New life. Everything on the island will die if I do not live. I hate the burden and crawl away.

  No cave offers protection. I stagger on. The twisted roots of a giant tree open with a wide entrance and offer welcoming darkness. I stumble inside. Knots of dark wood swirl upward, forming black crevices for hiding. The setting sun shines on the sandy floor. Scattered bones of long-dead animals form a kinship with me.

  I sway and try to sense life, feel nothing, but hesitate to trust myself. I hobble deep into the back of the root system. Squeezing between rough, salty bark into a small cleft, I sink into instant sleep.

  . . .

  A loud growl wakes me. Something big rips into the tree roots, shaking my hiding place. Crackling bark and debris plunge from above. I cower and cover my head. An

  arrow whips through the air. An animal screeches. I grab my mouth to keep from crying out as instant pain sears through me. The creature crashes to the ground. Relief fills me as it dies quickly.

  Footsteps run inside. I squeeze deeper into my hiding place.

  “A good chase and a good fight,” a deep male voice says. “I am smarter and faster. You were outmatched.”

  His satisfaction and pride for the kill fills me with sick dread. I dare not move even though my leg burns. Footsteps pad away. When they return, the man, for that is who I think he is, drops several things that thump together. Then stone scratches stone. A flash of
red illuminates the area near the front of the tree.

  I crawl closer to the edge of my hiding place. A large pile of dry wood snaps with fire. Longing for warmth and fighting the urge to move, I enter the man’s feelings.

  Warmth soaks into his skin and melts into mine. The fire grows brighter and I see a huge dead creature with an arrow in its chest. It has golden fur and double-pronged claws.

  It is the man who draws attention, even though he is turned away from me. His hair is shiny black and cropped short. He only wears breeches of leather that cling tightly to his thighs. Muscles ripple along his sleek back. Wide gold cuffs encircle each wrist.

  Why is my heart pounding for no reason?

  He turns to add more wood to the fire. I hold my breath. Nothing mars his striking face. It glows pale, icy purple. Ebony eyes show intelligence and defiance above high cheekbones. There is no doubt in my mind that he is an Ice Lord, only a few seasons older than I am.

  Heat vibrates through every cell of my body. I struggle to stop myself from responding to this enemy.

  He draws a large knife from his pack. The metal handle in the middle gleams in the light. Strange symbols surround a sparkling blue stone. He swaggers to the creature and slices off a sharp fang protruding from its mouth—as easily as if it is cloth.

  “Great bearran, your fang is the symbol that declares my manhood and right to the throne of the mighty Ice Lords. Let Ryz-IL deny me now.”

  His arrogance surges through me. I want to turn away, to stop watching, but am unable

  to take my eyes from him. He uses the tip of the blade and bores a hole in the fang. What substance can do that so quickly? He threads the fang on a narrow golden rod in the shape of a half-circle. The tooth hangs next to a crystal jewel shaped into three stars.

  He inserts the half-circle into his earlobe. I cringe before realizing an opening in his ear is already there. He smiles and says, “To the Ice Lord heir, regardless of his bloodline.” He caresses the fang. The young man proceeds to remove the fur skin from the animal. I want to retreat, but it is impossible. His eyes focus in deep concentration. Skill is evident in his mastery of the knife. Muscles bunch in his arms. Mesmerized, I catch myself falling into his feelings of confidence, entitlement, strength and desire for power.