Heart of the Ocean

by Jason A. Gilbert

  Nodding, Laila moved to follow Tomo as the others wandered around the village center. Connor fell into his usual step next to Laila. He had not said anything to her about her earlier catatonia, but she could sense his appreciation that she had snapped out of it. She had not yet told him of the vision that had, painfully, brought her back to herself. There would be time.

  Tomo led them into one of the circular buildings. This one was slightly larger than many of the others, and the entrance faced directly into the village center and the bonfire. Tomo knocked two times and then waited.

  "What's the fire for?" Laila asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

  Tomo looked up. "Much of the wood here is wet, all the time. We keep the fire going so there is always a place to get warmth."

  Laila nodded.

  The door opened slowly. A young woman stuck her head out. Tomo said something to her quickly in their own language. The woman glanced between Connor and Laila before returning her gaze to Tomo. She nodded once and stepped back, opening the door wider. Laila and Connor followed Tomo's wide shoulders into the circular building as the young woman closed the door behind them.

  A pungent smell immediately struck Laila's nose. The windows were covered and candles were scattered around the interior, giving the inside an eerie glow. The smell that had struck Laila was emanating from a small bowl sitting on a table next to the bed that lay in the center of the main room. It looked like leaves and smoke drifted off of the bowl and hung in the air around the narrow bed. A form lay on the bed. Tomo approached and the form sat up slightly, revealing an old woman, her face wrinkled with many years. Tomo knelt beside the bed and the old woman spoke a few words in their common language. The sounds were even harsher coming from her throat. Tomo responded quickly and softly, waving his hand back toward Laila and Connor. The old woman said something else, glancing at the two of them, and then waved them forward.

  "So it would seem that the time long foretold has finally come." The old woman's voice scratched with the same cadence as Tomo's. Laila was not sure how to respond, so she stood quietly, waiting. "Quiet, they are. Come now, children. Tomo tells me you are the Warden and the Magusari. Figures out of legend, long believed to have been forgotten." Her faded eyes turned pointedly toward Tomo, who lowered his head slightly.

  "We are," Laila said softly.

  "And what proof is there of that?" the old woman pressed. "Tomo here believes that you are Warden, boy, but what about you, child? How are we to know that our time has finally arrived?"

  Laila did not understand what the old woman meant by their time, but she knew what she could do to prove her place as the Magusari. She hesitated. Her fear of the power beneath the Straits rose to the forefront again. Icarus had told her what had happened before her vision in the cave, and Laila had connected that event to Connor's loss and recovery of the Sword. She did not know how to control the power she was growing into, and the last time she had used her power, people had died. A lot of people. The staff became heavy in her hands.

  "Child, I am an old woman, and I do not have much time left. Patience was never a virtue of mine. If you are what you say, then let me—" Her words were cut off by a burst of coughing. Tomo picked up the bowl of smoldering leaves and held it in front of the old woman. The coughing died down slowly and the old woman took a deep breath of the smoke wafting off the leaves. She motioned to Laila that she should proceed.

  "Laila..." Connor whispered.

  "I know... I..." She struggled to voice her fears. She gripped her staff tighter, her pulse quickened, and she could feel her heart beat heavier in her chest. Finally, she reached out with her mind and called on a small trickle of her power through the staff. The eerie light of the circular chamber was pushed back as her staff lit up with earthlight.

  The earthlight washed over the old woman, and Laila could see her more clearly now. Thin white hair clung to her scalp, her faded eyes widened in the light, and she stared directly at Laila, though Laila was not sure how much she could actually see with those dim eyes. She stared at the staff in Laila's hands, her own hands reaching forward as though to touch it, but hesitating.

  "Is our time finally come?" the old woman asked.

  Tomo turned to face Laila in the light of her staff, lowering his head as he did. The young woman who had answered the door, seeing Tomo's reaction, dropped slowly to one knee and lowered her own head.

  "You are the Magusari?" the old woman asked, pressing.

  Laila hesitated a moment, all her fears having resurfaced after their ordeal in the Straits. With the power flowing through her from the staff, however, her confidence slowly returned. "I am the Magusari."

  Laila thought she saw a solitary tear form at the corner of the old woman's eye, but she turned away, toward Tomo, before Laila could be sure.

  "Mae'n raid i ni baratoi," the old woman said to Tomo. Raising his head and facing her, he nodded and said something in return.

  "What is it? Connor asked.

  Tomo stood and faced the young southerner. "There is to be a gathering of the Edonin. Such a thing has not happened in nearly two decades. I was only a young man myself, not much older than you, at the last. I sent runners to the other villages before you and I left to find your friends." He inclined his head toward Laila. "The others should be here in a day or two. Once they arrive, you will learn more."

  "Learn more? More of what?" snapped Laila.

  Tomo regarded her for a moment. His dark eyes glowed slightly in the earthlight still emanating from her staff. Slight circles of weariness etched the lower half, giving him an intensity that Laila had not noticed before, his face obscured so often by the rain and dim light. She could see an unshakable patience in those eyes. Tomo had waited a long time for something, and from what she could see, that waiting stretched back even beyond his individual life. As he looked at her, she also saw a profound sadness, almost as if he pitied her.

  "The village is your home until the others arrive. A house will be provided for you and your friends. As one of the Phoenix Clan, I would think that you’d understand how these things must be addressed," Tomo said, glancing at Connor.

  "That doesn't—" Laila started but cut herself off as Tomo shook his head and abruptly moved past them and out into the village center.

  Laila watched him leave, staring dumbly at his back. She whispered a curse under her breath. "No one ever seems to want to tell us what it is you and I are supposed to do..." Laila said, half to herself.

  "Aye.”

  Twenty-Two

  Anrhe

  The early morning sun slid its way into the house the survivors had been given. Connor lay on a small pallet near one of the stone walls, staring at the encroaching sun. He had been awake for some time already, watching the sun rise into the sky. It felt good to see the sun again. The perpetual storm of the Straits seemed to be all he could remember. Seeing the sun reminded him of home, as did the smells that drifted in from the outside. Anrhe was damper than Custos, the air had a moist quality to it that was unlike anywhere he’d been on the southern continent. But the familiar smells of baking and fire drifted into the circular house, and if just for a moment, when Connor closed his eyes, he could almost believe that he was back home, waiting for his mother to come and wake him.

  He took a deep breath and sat up from his small pallet. The floor was strewn with sleeping bodies. Captain Drachus and his crew spread out through the middle of the floor. Connor watched to see if anyone else was awake, but the six sailors lay quietly on the floor, their breathing heavy and even. His eyes glanced toward one of the two archways that stood near the rear of the house, the one that Laila had been in with her mother. He’d heard no movement as long as he had been awake. Not surprising, as they had all been through a great deal. They needed the rest. He needed the rest too, but his mind would not go quiet, and so he was awake.

  Slowly he lifted himself from the ground. He grabbed his shirt from next to his pallet and pulled it over his head as he c
arefully made his way out into the cool morning air. Even though the sun was shining, he still felt a slight mist as he walked out of the stone house. Their accommodations were close to the continuous bonfire that burned in the village center. The previous night, there had not been time for much exploration. They had been fed and directed to the house, and beyond that, Tomo and the other villagers had seemed to ignore the survivors. Connor had understood what Tomo meant when he had mentioned that the events needed to take their proper course. That was as it was in Custos. Certain events had to follow the appropriate route, though that knowledge did not make this situation any easier to stomach. He was as desperate for knowledge as Laila was. He was simply able to hold back his curiosity for the sake of propriety.

  He walked from their house toward the bonfire, making his way toward the heat in the cold morning air. There were a few of the Edonin villagers walking through the village center. Some stopped momentarily in front of the bonfire, either to warm their hands or exchange a small bit of conversation with another. He approached the roaring fire carefully, finding the right distance to warm himself and keep dry, but not so close as to be uncomfortable. He lifted his hands toward the flames and closed his eyes, letting his head lean forward as he took deep breaths again, trying to summon Custos out of the mists around him.

  "Connor?" A hesitant voice spoke up behind him. He opened his eyes and turned slowly, seeing the young woman from the Elder's house, Nina. She was about his age, and Connor thought she was likely Tomo’s daughter. Connor had worked out that Tomo was the Elder's son and the next in line to lead this village.

  "Aye?" Connor asked, lowering his hands and facing the young woman. He studied her for a moment. She had light brown hair with streaks of blonde, an uncommon thing among Connor's people, who tended toward black or a deep brown color. Her hair was pulled back, much as Connor's own hair was, tied neatly in a tail that fell between her shoulders. Green eyes studied him in turn, watching him from underneath a slight fringe of hair that hung down from the tie at the back. She had a bow strapped across her shoulders and carried something in front of her, draped in an oiled skin to protect it from the damp air.

  "I... " She seemed to stumble over the words, glancing down at the item she was holding. "Hunt. Food."

  Connor tilted his head slightly. "You want me to hunt...with you?" He pointed back and forth between them.

  Nina watched his movements and then nodded slowly, holding the item in her arms out toward him. As she did so, she pulled the skin from it, revealing a short bow underneath. Connor chuckled to himself, remembering the last time he had used a short bow. Would he even be here today had he not gone on that hunt with his friends back in Custos? He knew Icarus would say that his power would have manifested itself sooner or later—he could not escape his path as the Warden—but Connor still wondered.

  Seeing his thoughtfulness as hesitation, Nina withdrew her hands. Covering the short bow, she turned to leave.

  "Wait," Connor said. "I'm sorry. I was just remembering something. You would like me to come with you?" He repeated his hand movements.

  She nodded again, even slower this time. "All right," Connor responded, taking a step toward her and holding his hand out. She handed him the bow, unslinging an extra quiver from her hips. Connor accepted the quiver and strapped it around his own waist.

  "Lead the way," Connor said. She looked at him questioningly for a moment, perhaps not fully understanding. This would make hunting interesting. At least there was not a lot of need for conversation. Smiling, Connor motioned for her to take the lead. She nodded again, not returning his smile, and turned toward the southern edge of the village.

  Connor glanced back toward the survivor's house briefly, wondering if he should leave a message, but Nina moved off quickly and he was forced to follow. He would be fine. Tomo had said the gathering would not happen for at least another full day, so Laila and the rest of his friends were not going anywhere. Confident in the knowledge that he would not be missed, he caught up to Nina and easily fell into step next to her.

  Laila sat alone in the small room at the back of the house the Edonin had provided for them. Her staff rested against the small bed, and she had her knees pulled up in her chest with her head resting on them. She took deep breaths, calming her nerves. She had woken up suddenly from a deep sleep, the all-too-familiar sensation of heat rippling across her skin. The feeling had gone as soon as she was awake, but the memory lingered. She had not been having another dream or vision. Her sleep had been surprisingly restful. But the heat had awoken her violently. Another deep breath and she released her legs, stretching her bare feet out to touch the stone of the floor and reaching for her staff. She called on a small trickle of her power through the staff; she was still hesitant to do more than that. She let the sense of confidence, as slight as it might be, flow into her, calming her mind further.

  She glanced at her mother, who was still sleeping on the other wall. Her wounded hand rested across her chest in a position that reminded Laila of a funeral pyre. Shaking that morbid image from her mind, she stood, slipping her feet into her sandals and walking out into the main room of the house. Only a few of their small group was still there. The sunrise was nearly an hour earlier, and they must have gone to explore the village. Icarus still sat in the small kitchen area, however, absently crunching on a small apple.

  "Good morning, child," he said, turning toward her.

  "Good morning."

  "I hope you got some rest. It's been a long time since we've had the opportunity..."

  Laila nodded. "I did."

  Icarus watched her for a moment. "What is it, Laila? Your face seems troubled."

  Laila walked over to the small table that the Magus occupied. She had hoped her fears would not be so evident.

  "It's nothing..."

  "Are you certain?"

  Laila nodded again.

  "Was it another vision?"

  Laila stopped in the middle of taking a bite of her own apple. Damn, she thought.

  "Not a vision. Just a bad dream," she explained.

  Icarus waited, likely hoping for more elaboration.

  "It's nothing, Icarus. I promise. Just nerves. I don't think I like to be sitting still anymore."

  Icarus continued to study her, searching for something with his dark brown eyes. She held his gaze for as long as she could, but she finally had to turn away. She felt his eyes on her for a moment longer, but before he could say anything else, Dio entered through the main door.

  "Dio!" Laila said, false excitement in her voice.

  "Yes?" Dio said.

  "Where were you?" she asked, continuing to avoid Icarus's eyes.

  "Out..."

  "Would you like to go back?" she asked, standing from the table and hurrying toward him.

  "I... Well...I guess," Dio answered.

  "Good, let's go." She grabbed his arm and pulled him back through the door, leaving Icarus behind.

  She dragged Dio out onto the small street, brushing past Wyndam's tall form. The elemental leaned against the wall of the house, watching the people of the small village go about their day. Laila hesitated a moment, wondering if Dio had been talking to Wyndam. He had been spending more and more time around the Aurai. Laila considered asking Dio, but then remembered her attempted escape from Icarus and thought better of staying near the house for the time being.

  Her hesitation forgotten, she pulled Dio along the curved pathways that separated the stone houses. She thought she was making her way toward the village center and the bonfire, but after a few minutes of wandering she realized that they were moving closer to the forest, not the center of the village. She glanced back and did not see Icarus following. Hopefully he would let the matter drop, and deciding that perhaps a little diversion into the forest might help clear her mind a bit, she moved toward the forest, still pulling Dio behind her.

  "Where are we going?" he asked.

  "Not sure yet..." Laila answered.

  D
io let her lead him a few steps further, just short of the half-wall that surrounded the village, before pulling his arm free of her grasp.

  "No, Laila. Where are we going?" he demanded, his voice adamant.

  Something had changed in Dio since the Straits and their time in the cave. Dio had been the one to insist on coming with her, to leave Terus and everything they had ever known. A part of Laila felt guilty, but another part of her was angry that he seemed to resent her for a decision that had clearly been his.

  "I don't know. I just wanted to get out of that house," Laila snapped.

  "I'm not going to wander into the woods with you, Laila."

  "And why not? Do you have something better to do?"

  "I... No, I don’t. But I don't want to go into the forest. I'd rather sit quietly in our little house, on this crazy island, and wait for the damn storm to come wash us all away!" His voice rose as he finished. A few villagers that were within earshot turned at the sound, but seeing two of the outsiders as the source of the disturbance, they quickly found things to do elsewhere.

  "I didn't make you come!" Laila said, her voice tight but low.

  "You're right. You didn't make me come. But you still don't get it, do you?"

  "Get what?"

  Dio almost growled in frustration. He turned away from Laila and looked out into the forest. Laila watched him, her arms crossed across her chest. She held her tongue, waiting for the reason she had asked for. With a heavy sigh, the tension ran out of Dio's face and he took a few steps over to the half-wall. He kicked his foot out and struck the wall, wincing at the pain but still saying nothing. Finally, he pulled himself up and sat on the top of the wall, turning back toward Laila.

  "I'm just confused," he began. "I know it was my choice to come, but I feel like I have nothing to contribute. I keep hearing about you and how you're the Magusari and that you are going to save the world. And then there's Connor, your destined protector." He waved his arms in the air mockingly. "What am I in all that? I'm just a potter."