At Water's Edge: An Epic Fantasy (The Last Elentrice Book 1)

by S McPherson

  THE PRICE OF MAGIC

  I’m not aware we have fallen asleep until I feel someone shaking me awake. I open my eyes and see smooth, dark skin, a cautious gaze: Yvane.

  ‘Hi.’ Her mouth twitches upwards but it’s not a smile. I sit up, waking Milo, and notice Howard standing by the window.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Milo demands brusquely, sitting straighter.

  ‘They sent us to find you,’ Yvane confesses warily. ‘We knew you’d be here from the moment they lost you but thought we would give you the night.’ She says this like they’ve granted us some huge favour. Did she forget it’s their fault we’re in hiding in the first place?

  ‘Get out,’ Milo hisses like a cobra set to strike.

  Howard takes that as his cue to come over, no doubt sensing that Milo and I may not be as accommodating as they’d hoped.

  ‘Come on, Milo. This is best for all of us. You understand that, don’t you?’ Howard directs at me. Apparently, I’m supposed to be the one easily swayed, the wispy cloud sailing aimlessly across Milo’s stormy sky. But instead I feel like the lightning. We were all in this together. Now they’ve gone and turned against us.

  ‘We said we would sleep on it,’ I reply, my voice cool like a winters day. ‘We agreed we wouldn’t do anything for now and would make the ultimate decision together.’

  ‘We weren’t going to change our mind and you weren’t going to change yours.’ Yvane sighs. ‘Your judgement is clouded by each other. Beautiful, yes, but trustworthy, no.’

  ‘It would have worked out our way.’ Milo stands, tall. His back straight like iron. If he’s in the least bit drowsy, he hides it well.

  ‘You don’t know that for sure,’ Yvane exclaims. ‘This way we have some level of certainty. They’re going to keep her safe. They will keep you safe, Dezaray. Isn’t that the most important thing?’

  I shift uncomfortably as her eyes fall on me. Over the past few weeks, I’ve come to view Yvane as the cautious one, as if she tiptoes around balloons that are poised on needles. Like if one of those balloons bursts, she is sure to fall apart with it—but I can’t deny her logic or her large pleading eyes.

  ‘Plus, they now understand the Vildacruz threats,’ she presses. ‘They understand the extent of our disadvantage and are more prepared. Eight people were severely injured last night. That type of thing can’t happen again just because we decide to keep the whole world in the dark.’ She speaks with such conviction I almost admire her. Her words ring true and I struggle to argue. The only thing I’m sure of is that I want to stay with Milo, and the fact is that I can’t, not forever. Perhaps now is as good a time as any.

  ‘Do you really believe this wasn’t the best choice for everyone?’ Howard asks solemnly. ‘Do you think we would have done it if we thought there was any other way?’

  ‘It wasn’t the best choice for us,’ Milo growls. His teeth flash like fangs. ‘How is our being separated the best choice?’

  ‘You were going to be separated anyway. It’s inevitable, Milo, whether now or later,’ Yvane urges, clearly willing him to see sense. ‘Dezaray doesn’t belong here. She’s not from this world.’

  I gaze blindly down at my fingers. They’re right. I don’t belong here and I’ve done enough damage already.

  ‘Just try and take her.’

  ‘Milo,’ I interrupt before he says or does something he may regret, ‘they’re right.’

  Milo stiffens then whirls to face me as swift and fluid as a shadow. He’s startled, angry, but I nod back reassuringly.

  ‘We’ll give you a minute to say goodbye.’ Howard nudges Yvane and heads for the tree house ladder. Yvane is about to argue but I see Howard shake his head and she reluctantly follows after.

  ‘This is the best choice for all of us. Whether we like it or not, at some point I have to go back.’ I slowly clamber off the sofa, trying to remember what he’d said to me the other night in the tent.

  I take his hands in mine and stare deep into his eyes, trying to lose myself one last time in the stunning orbs of bright blue with bursts of sunlight. ‘This is only temporary. Maybe for one set, maybe for five, but eventually, one day I will see you again. This is not goodbye.’

  He glares at me, unmoving, attempting to conceal the pain his eyes betray. When he doesn’t respond, I scoop up my rucksack and head for the tree house ladder, brushing tears from my cheeks. I lightly stroke his fingers on my way past; he doesn’t move. I flinch at the statue he’s become and scurry to the ladder before I change my mind.

  ‘Wait,’ he yells, stalking towards me just as the tip of my head is about to disappear from sight. I freeze breathlessly; waiting, watching. He crouches down on his knees and I look up at than stunning face, struggling to remain brave.

  ‘Have a safe trip.’ He pulls me almost viciously towards him by the scruff of my neck and hungrily locks his lips with mine. Once again, the world fades into the distance; the good, the bad, the ugly and the lovely, none of it matters, just me and Milo. I feel the gentle trickle of my tears turn to a gushing waterfall, I feel my nose start to drip, and I taste the salt on my tongue. With every burning fibre of my being, I somehow manage to pull away and continue down the ladder.

  ‘I will see you again,’ he calls after me. I wave back in response but without looking up.

  If Howard and Yvane didn’t regret their decision before, the look on their faces suggest they might do now.

  I sit in silence, mesmerised by the hiss of the rain and the growling thunder. It’s been a while since I sat in a downpour like this and it is long overdue. For some reason, when the rain pelts down on me, I imagine the skies are lashing out, and for a brief moment, I don’t have to beat myself up. A spark of lightning zigzags across the sky; I briefly wish it would strike me down.

  Considering I’m basically in a prison though, my cell is not bad. For starters, I have a small balcony which I’m currently resting on; propped over the edge, staring blankly into the night. I can’t make anything out except a distant collection of trees; wherever I am, it is far from everywhere else.

  The room the court has given me is a decent size with warm and inviting colours; reds, browns, mahogany furniture. It’s probably quite beautiful but right now I struggle to identify any beauty left in the world. No matter how they dress it up, a prison is still a prison and I am still a prisoner. I feel my eyes start to burn again and can no longer tell whether the tears or the rain are drenching my face.

  I’ve only been away from Milo for a day and already it feels like a lifetime. The ache in my heart is unbearable. It’s heavy, as if turning to stone, cementing all the torment and hurt so I will never recover. The physical pain is almost as wrenching as the emotional, and I clutch my chest as I gasp for breath. I yawn, shudder, and will myself to stop but can’t imagine anything quelling this agony, this crushing blow of loss. Loss of a life, that was never mine to live. Loss of a love, that was never mine to feel. Loss of…loss of everything.

  All of a sudden there’s a niggling in my head, like a butterfly is trapped in my skull. Then there’s a muffled sound beneath static and one word gets through. I recognise the voice: Milo.

  I step into the shade and out of the rain, sticking a finger in my ear to block out the noise of the downpour.

  ‘Milo?’ I whisper then realise he can’t hear me. It seems like so long ago that he showed me mindle, I can barely remember how. Okay, for one thing I have to calm down; my heart is beating so fast I feel like it’s about to burst out of my ribcage. Taking a deep breath, I attempt to steady myself against the window. It’s cold; I flinch. Right, I need to focus. More shrouded comments from him gurgle through, taunting me with my inability to respond.

  Breathe, I instruct myself. Breathe and focus.

  ‘That’s it,’ I hear Milo reply and almost jump for joy. He heard me.

  ‘Milo,’ I mindle back.

  ‘Yea, Sweetheart. It’s me.’

  I melt. It may be chucking it down outside and the wind may
be howling but my heart and soul might as well be in the Hawaiian tropics. The heat between us is undeniable and evidently, we don’t even have to be in the same room.

  ‘How…you?’ he asks. I jiggle my finger in my ear again in an attempt to clear the hissing sound. I’m afraid to go inside in case one of the court members hears me mindle, plus somehow, I feel protected on this lonely veranda with naught but the rhythmic tapping of the rain.

  ‘I miss you,’ I sigh. ‘I miss you so much.’

  ‘…never forgive…so called mates…understand.’

  I can’t fully grasp what he’s saying but I get the gist. I hate to be the reason he’s fighting with two of his closest friends but at the minute I’m just as angry with them as he is.

  ‘They did the right thing,’ I tell myself as much as him. ‘We were in our own little bubble, and sadly, bubbles burst.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he seems to growl. ‘Sometimes things don’t go the way you planned.’

  ‘Sometimes.’ I feel myself start to well up again and tightly shut my eyes. ‘Yea, sometimes.’ I slide down the window and pray he cannot hear my sobs through my mind. I used to believe that love was like magic, beautiful to believe in but impossible to know if it really exists. As I kneel here now, I wonder if love is like magic but in another way, in that it always comes with a price. As I sit shuddering like a little child, I can’t help questioning if the cost was worth it.

  Two more nights pass. My mindle skills drastically improve and I even begin working on a mindle-shield, so I can communicate from the comfort of my room without worrying that the Court will overhear. The distortion has subsided and sometimes, if I close my eyes, I can pretend Milo is right beside me. Though being apart isn’t any easier, I find myself looking forward to our evening chats and our conversations have become much more upbeat.

  ‘Coltis cabbage and beans today,’ I declare. ‘Both were delicious but I don’t quite understand the combination.’

  Milo chuckles, ‘It’s an old traditional dish of the Coltis. No one really has it anymore. Unless, of course, they’re working for the Court and are stuck in their inflexible ways.’

  I laugh. ‘Here, here,’ I cheer.

  ‘Did you leave your room today?’ I sense hope in his tone. Though our conversations have become more positive, I haven’t left my room since the Court brought me here. The members often invite me down for meals but I politely decline each invitation. I don’t want to be here. Socialising with strangers and pretending otherwise is too much to ask. I prefer to spend my time sleeping, sulking, nibbling on scraps and then drifting back into peaceful slumber until Milo’s voice wakes me.

  ‘No,’ I admit, ‘but I did have a short conversation with the lady who brings me my meals.’

  ‘You realise you’re not actually in prison, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s okay. I like it this way,’ I smile. ‘I was in a jail cell the first time I heard of Coldivor and counterparts, so it’s really quite poetic that it should end the same.’

  ‘I’m sorry? You were in jail?’

  I giggle, ‘Oops. Did I not tell you that?’

  GOODBYE

  The next day dawns bright and sunny, though seemingly dusk and barren in my eyes. The realisation of the day ahead bears down on me, making it difficult to rise out of bed and I close my eyes for a moment longer.

  The portal opens tonight; a fortnight has come and gone already. I’m sure the Courts will be summoning me soon. Dressing me in robes to disguise my appearance and dragging me through the wilderness as we follow the gethamot’s smoky arrow.

  My throat seems to shrink as a collection of sadness swells within it. I try to gulp past it, taking great hefty breaths and willing my aching body to rise. Just like the Saturdays when I anticipated Drake’s drunken arrival, I inhale, long and deep – and I wait. It won’t be long now.

  As predicted, though unsure how much later it is—I seem to have dozed off—a pounding on my door wakes me.

  ‘You’re being summoned by the Courts,’ a woman’s voice announces.

  ‘Coming,’ I croak, clearing my throat and rubbing sleep from my eyes. I groan and stare blindly out of the window. Is it really such a beautiful day? I imagine the fluffy white clouds to be grey and pregnant with the threat of a monsoon. The occasional bird I cannot identify is actually a vulture coming straight for me and the bright violet sky is in fact a raging scarlet.

  ‘May we come in?’ the woman queries.

  What for? I want to yell but bite my tongue.

  ‘Yes,’ I reply.

  The door opens and in shuffle three women, hair in buns, dressed in avocado silk.

  ‘We have been instructed to dress you for the journey ahead.’

  ‘Of course,’ I sigh.

  Not long after, wrapped in an emerald cloak—though it doesn’t shimmer like the others do—hood drawn over my head, I walk along a muddy path, surrounded by members of the Court.

  ‘How are you?’ whispers the same young man who summoned Milo the other night. I think I dislike him the most.

  ‘Why do you ask?’ I’m too tired to conjure any hostility in my tone but my impassive response makes it quite clear how I am.

  ‘They call me Oxor.’

  I don’t respond.

  ‘I’m a spee’ad. You can tell by the elasticity of my skin’ and he holds out his arm, pulling on his surprisingly stretchy flesh.

  I keep my gaze fixed firmly ahead, hoping Oxor will finally make himself scarce. I am in no mood for idle small talk and will quite happily stay locked in the cocoon of my memories.

  ‘You realise it’s extremely unsafe for you to be here, don’t you?’ Oxor continues, ‘especially considering who your counterpart is.’

  ‘Yes,’ I hiss. If one more person tries to rationalise my situation, I may actually throttle them.

  ‘I hope you understand that the Courts of Coldivor operate with the best intentions of everyone at heart.’

  ‘Oh, shove your intentions,’ I snap, hostility suddenly rampant, ‘they don’t change the outcome of this situation so really your intentions don’t mean anything to me.’

  ‘I thought I was in love once too’ and he nods sympathetically.

  I flinch. Thought? Is he now trying to wave off my feelings for Milo as a mistaken thought?

  ‘Infatuation can be strong,’ he goes on. I cannot actually believe he is continuing.

  ‘I’m going to walk over there.’ I indicate a space a good distance away. ‘Don’t follow me.’

  My mood worsens the longer we walk, which feels like forever. Though I am thankful the other members leave me to wallow in peace, they do seem to be having a much better time of it, chatting away and bursting into the occasional song, not that I know any of them. They’re all folk type melodies and some limericks, mostly about Coldivor.

  The sun is setting. I peep over the leader’s shoulder and note that the denomatrix is a lighter shade of green. Almost there.

  The leader nods to a man beside him who is wearing the same dark, thick, eye-shaped glasses I saw many of the students in Thornton High wear. He stops and turns to wait for me. I snarl, clenching my fists.

  ‘My name is Brixen,’ he states matter-of-factly. ‘I’ve been instructed to brief you on what’s to come.’

  ‘This isn’t my first time,’ I grumble.

  ‘Not on the passing. On after the passing.’

  I glance at him, confused.

  He slows his pace to match mine. ‘Have you heard of the C.P. Myth?’

  I nod, still not sure where he’s going with this. The one who calls himself, Oxor, watches our interaction but thankfully stays away.

  ‘Now that the Vildacruz have found you and learnt your identity, it is likely they will try to get rid of you,’ he states with an air of finality. His choice of words is no nicer than Yvane’s. I stiffen.

  ‘But if I cross...’

  ‘After you cross, do not consider yourself free. They know who you are. They know who you can become.’ />
  ‘Are you saying they could follow me to the other side?’

  Brixen nods. ‘Or they could already be there. Nobody really knows if any Vildacruz ever managed to cross.’

  My tongue sticks the roof of my mouth and I gulp to slake it. ‘So, your advice is?’

  ‘Always be wary, and let those around you know if you see anything suspicious. Anything.’

  Those around me? I want to laugh. I won’t have anyone around me.

  ‘Oxor will pass through the portal with you,’ he continues, seeming to read my expression. ‘We have few allies in your realm but will do our best to protect you.’

  I stare at him. Was that supposed to be comforting?

  ‘We all hope nothing happens to Lexovia,’ he muses, ‘but in the event it does, we will be turning to you. It is our hope to keep you safe as well.’

  I screw up my face. Yes, this is definitely his attempt at being comforting and he’s doing a really rubbish job of it.

  ‘I thought you might be pleased to know...’ starts another voice.

  ‘No!’ I hold up a hand to stop Oxor as he comes up beside me. ‘Not you again.’

  ‘I only came to tell you that we’ve allowed your friends to say goodbye.’

  I stop wildly waving my hands. My heart jolts and my thoughts immediately rush to Milo waiting for me by the portal.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We thought you might like to say a final goodbye. So, we are permitting them a chance to see you.’

  Them… The only friend I feel I have here anymore is Milo, though I’m sure he’s also referring to Howard and Yvane. I’m too elated to care. One more chance to see Milo.

  My pace quickens as we follow after the shifting arrow. I watch it, entranced and eager to reach the portal. Deciding I may need something to distract me before I chew my nails down to the bed, I allow Oxor to talk to me on our way. Brixen promptly made himself scarce without so much as a second glance.