by S A Edwards
“I couldn’t have left from the start,” I said.
“I know.”
“I needed to save him. I couldn’t leave him.”
“I know.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Clara.” He grasped my arms. “I don’t blame you, but I know you blame yourself. I feel your emotions, your anguish, and I’m on your side.”
“Then, please, be more supportive. I can’t stand to fight against you, too.”
He lowered his hands and nodded, understanding in his eyes. “We should get going. There’s quite a way to go.”
Chimera and Hanrel left the river. Droplets propelled from our clothing and dropped to the grass, drying us in seconds.
“Thanks,” I murmured. I tore my gaze away from Hanrel’s magic and gestured to Siren. He set off again.
The sun reached its peak when we arrived on the outskirts of a field. The forest canopy had blocked out much of the light, so the sudden brightness made me squint.
Across the field, a hill sloped down to the edge of a lake. I recognised the area from my journey to the Might.
Siren grabbed my hand. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have to. There’s no other option.”
“I’m sure we can find one.”
“Do you really believe that? The Keepers are running out of time. If they die in that prison –”
“I know.”
I sighed. “I don’t know what the world falling would look like, but I know I don’t want to find out. This is my fault. The Gates failing, the Hellions getting out … I need to fix it.”
His lips tightened, but he didn’t argue.
We walked the length of the field and down the slope in silence, stopping several feet from the water’s edge.
Nothing disturbed the mirror-like surface. Were the Herron lying in wait beneath? Perhaps they could sense Hanrel’s gift.
“So, one eona east, below the surface?” Hanrel said.
“That’s right.”
“Any starting point?” he asked. “There’s a lot of bank.”
“I don’t know.” To our right, the grass peeked in a point, overhanging the water. “I’m going to guess there.” I pointed and peered at Siren. Would he remember?
He nodded.
“Okay, then,” Hanrel said. “Ready?”
My neck prickled, and nerves fluttered in my stomach, but I pushed them back. “As I’ll ever be.”
Siren squeezed my arm, and desperation flickered across his expression, like he didn’t want to let me go. “I could come,” he said.
I shook my head. “You know you can’t. Your gifts are suppressed, and you’re an Ancient. You had to burn your tunic because of a bit of blood. Stay here.”
A wave of worry cut through my feigned confidence. Would I ever get used to feeling his emotions? I flashed him a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Chimera pushed his head up against my chest and whimpered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“He can’t go with you,” Siren said.
A wave of anxiety set my teeth on edge. “Why not?”
“I don’t know.” Frustration took over the worry. “I can’t remember. Something about the Daemon or the Herron or …” He balled his fists. “I don’t like you being without protection. Without even your …” He turned away.
Without my gifts. “It’s okay.” I ran my fingers through Chimera’s mane. “I’ll be okay.” Although, I wasn’t sure who I hoped to convince: them or me.
Hanrel raised his hands. The lake’s surface churned, and then parted, leading down in a smooth, rippling staircase. He turned to me and gestured with a small smile. If he felt nervous, he hid it well.
There was no time to waste. Exhaling a shaky breath, I dropped my pack to the ground, gave Chimera a nervous nod, and stepped into the narrow passage.
46
It wasn’t long before the constant descent made my legs ache.
The lake water rippled beside us, close enough to touch, though I took care to keep my distance, half-afraid a Herron would reach through the wall and grab me. At times, shoals of fish swam past us, and small, round things rode the current, their spikes billowing around them. The farther we descended, the duller the light became, filtering in only through the parted water above.
No signs of the Herron appeared.
Hanrel followed a few steps behind me, concentration in his eyes.
“So, what’s your problem with Siren?” I asked. The Ancient could no longer be seen on the bank high above. A part of me wondered if he’d brought us to the wrong lake, but no, I’d seen the Herron here before. Still, their silence made me uneasy. “You’re always fighting with him.”
“It’s not a problem I have with him, as such,” Hanrel said.
“Then, what?”
“It’s all of his kind. Ancients.” His focus flickered through the watery wall. “They’re powerful.”
“You’re annoyed with them because of power?”
“No, no, nothing like that. They have power. So, they think they’re better than us, that they can do what they want. Like taking away your pain.” He scowled.
“I’m glad they eased it. I wouldn’t be able to do this if they hadn’t.”
“Maybe so. But what will you do when it returns?”
“Why does it have to?”
“You can’t ignore it forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face it.”
“Well, I’ll save that for later.”
He huffed.
Something flashed in the water beside me.
I spun toward it.
Nothing.
“Did you see that?” I whispered.
Hanrel nodded.
Something flashed again, like light catching on glass, but it passed too quickly to see properly.
My mouth turned dry.
Fear cut through Hanrel’s focus. “Better hurry up.”
I didn’t need telling twice. My feet moved swiftly and silently down the steps, though ripples spread out with every touch, marking our position.
Then, the steps jolted, knocking me backward.
I gasped, and my heart broke into a sprint when my elbow sunk through the surface. “Hanrel?” Hysteria broke through my words.
His stance widened. He stretched his arms out. “They’re countering my gift.”
The water roiled, billowing around me like crystallised bubbles, making it impossible to stand back up. It blocked out any view of the fish, and large shadows whizzed past us.
Moisture seeped through my clothes. “Hanrel!”
“I can’t hold them.” He staggered and fell, the steps melting away beneath him. “Run!”
I clambered to my feet and raced along the now-slippery surface. It lurched, and spray soaked my face. My breath caught in my throat.
Then, like a wave, the lake closed in around us.
Icy water crushed me, sending pain through my ears. Bubbles flurried around me, blinding and loud. I flailed, fighting for air. My lungs strained, and I longed to inhale, to call out to the element, to command it to save me, to take me up.
Bubbles rose toward the surface, abandoning me. I wasn’t Mage anymore. They no longer knew me. Even the particles escaped my vision, hiding amongst the current.
Then, I saw her. The same Herron as last time with eyes the colour of diamonds and skin that glistened in the gloom. Long, blue hair billowed around her, and a tail, seemingly made of the water she breathed, swayed beneath her.
She smiled.
Panic overcame any rational sense I still held. My arms batted the water uselessly, reaching for fresh air and freedom.
Hanrel floated nearby, surrounded by Herrons. Hair of red, sapphire, ebony, and lilac shimmered and flowed above writhing tails and gleeful laughs.
He fought against them, parting the water.
They giggled, and the liquid poured ov
er him again like a sheet.
I reached out, groping for my gifts. Anything would do. Something I could use to attack them.
Blinding, white heat blasted through the lake, scattering the Herron like butterflies.
They shrieked and hissed, their focus on the surface. A couple of them swam up.
The water parted above, revealing Siren. His flames whirled around him. He shouted something, but the sound was lost to rushing waves closing the breach.
I fought to reach the gap, to breathe, but it was snatched away in a second by pounding water pouring in.
Herron surrounded Hanrel again.
Terror and defeat gleamed in the Healer’s eyes.
“No!” I screamed, the word strangled beneath a stream of bubbles. I wanted to shout again, but my air diminished. Dark spots clouded my vision.
Something grabbed my arm, and then my cheeks. The Herron slid into my vision, flashing sharp fangs. Her grip tightened.
Then, tingles coursed through my body, painful, stinging. My legs faded to water. The burn in my lungs eased, and cool, soothing water flooded my airway.
No, I thought in despair, not airway. Waterway. They had me.
I twisted out of the Herron’s grasp toward Hanrel in time to catch a glimpse of the Hellions’ tails disappearing into the dark depths below. A shudder coursed through me, satisfying and powerful.
“There’s nothing you can do,” the Herron said.
I twisted back to her with a flick of my tail. Rage flooded my despair, and the water around me grew hot.
“Relax.” She laughed. “You’re boiling the lake.”
I blinked. Tiny bubbles rose to the surface, searing my skin like the flames used to, but not harming me.
I turned my focus back to where they dragged Hanrel.
“It’s too late,” she said. “He’s already dead.”
“No.”
“You felt it, didn’t you? I changed you before he died.”
I stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“The shudder? The pleasure? When a Mage dies in our territory, his power is absorbed into us, strengthening us.”
“And me?” I snarled. “I had no power to give.” But I did have a deal to make, Keepers to release.
My anger dissipated into pain. Now, they’d never get out. The Hellions would take over, and I, as one of them, would be just as evil. This land would fall to the darkness the Keepers had worked so hard to keep locked up.
I would have cried, but some new knowledge told me Herrons couldn’t do that.
“It’s not your power we wanted,” she said.
“Then, what?”
“You’re increasing our population.” She beamed.
“You want me to have your babies?”
She laughed. “You are our baby. We can’t give birth like others can.”
“No.” I flicked my tail and sped backward, away from her. “I have to go back. You have to change me back.”
“There’s nothing I can do. Once you’ve made the transformation, there’s no return.”
47
Istared at my tail, my brown hair floating in the current. The lake elements glistened and danced in the gloom, only, it wasn’t gloom anymore. The whole place shimmered with its own light, its own energy, an energy that vibrated within my very bones – assuming Herron had bones. I surveyed my arms. They looked no different except from a slight shine to my skin.
The Herron cocked her head. “I’m Sabina. We met before. Do you remember?”
I scowled at her.
“You used to think being a Healer was wonderful because you could wield the water.” She giggled.
“Well, I’m not a Healer anymore.”
“No. You’re better.” She gestured. “Come on. You’ll want to meet the Queen.”
“I want you to let me go.” It wouldn’t take much to reach the surface. Maybe if I could get on land, Prudens could help. Maybe the book would have a cure documented.
But Siren would see me. He would know I’d failed. And if there really was no cure, I didn’t want to see his disappointment.
Sabina shot me a look of pity. “You’ll get used to it. What we’ve given you is a gift.”
I snorted. “More like a curse.”
“It’s better than the life you lived before. You’ll see. Come.”
“No. I came here for a reason. I’m going to the Gate.”
She laughed. “Don’t waste your time. The Gate is on land. You’ll never get to it.”
“No, it’s underwater.”
“An underwater cave that leads to land. By all means, try to find it. You’ll soon see I speak the truth.”
Despair washed over me. I’d failed. Now, the Keepers would die, and the balance would never be restored.
“Come,” Sabina said. “Meet the Queen.”
I blinked. The Queen? Perhaps things weren’t as hopeless as I’d thought. If she commanded the Herron, maybe she would have a way to restore me. “Okay.”
I followed her, each swish of my tail propelling me through the depths. I couldn’t deny the thrill of the water on my flesh, the beauty of this realm. The spiky balls I’d seen on the way here held fascinating life. They sung to each other as they passed. Their melodic notes pierced me, filling me with peace and power and hunger.
Memories of the shudder of Hanrel’s death returned, the satisfaction, the surge of power through me.
I shook my head. No. I couldn’t think like that.
“See, Healers wield the water,” Sabina said. “But Herron are the water. The Mage can’t control us.”
I understood. The particles near her shifted with her tail, drifting in and out, ever-changing, ever fresh. They curled around me with a single thought, caressing my cheeks, my arms, my back.
Sabina dipped lower into the darkness, though the light didn’t dim. Somehow, my vision picked out every tentacle of the green, slimy plants clinging to the rocks and every ripple in the sand.
We rounded a boulder. A huge palace stretched out. Towers like twisted, pearly shells adorned the uppermost tips of the structure, and tiny starstones lit up a path in the sand leading to a magnificent, white arch.
Other Herrons swam leisurely about, giggling occasionally. Some waved to me, but I didn’t return the gesture.
They didn’t seem to mind.
Sabina led me through glittering tunnels and narrow arches, around patches of blossoming flowers and over an area of sand where the light rippled on the surface in a mesmerising display.
Finally, she passed through a curtain of green strands into a large hall.
Stone-like tables clung to the floor with platters of crab and fish, seashells and the singing, spiky balls. At the far end of the hall, a huge throne extended from a bed of pearls.
Another Herron sat on it, her transparent tail failing to hide the pearls beneath. A jewel-encrusted crown rested on her head with tiny pearls strung through her amber hair.
She beamed when she saw me. “Hello.” She held out her arms, and her bell-toned voice sent shivers through my body. “I am Coruscent. Welcome to our family.”
I floated in the centre of the hall, ignoring Sabina’s nudge to move closer. “You have to send me back,” I said.
At that, Coruscent laughed, and the spiky balls joined in with her, singing in harmony with her tone. “Why would I do that?” she asked.
“So, it can be done?”
She raised her eyebrows. “It’s never been done before.”
“But it is possible?”
“If I wish it.” She waved a hand dismissively. “But I do not.”
Hope blossomed within me. If I could just convince her. “I wouldn’t have entered your territory without a very good reason. Surely you know that?”
“You wanted a swim, you were thirsty, a friend dared you,” – She flicked her tail – “Neither matter to me. You entered. You are claimed.”
I assumed they were the reasons given by others they changed. But not me. “You do
n’t understand. I had no other choice.”
“Then, by all means, make me understand. I do love a good story.” The hard note in her voice sent my heart beating faster, the coldness in her words unmistakeable. She carried no intention of restoring my legs.
“I came to make a deal with the Daemon.”
Surprise cut through her amusement. “No one goes through his Gates. What reason could you have to seek him out?”
“The Gates have failed. The Keepers are trapped –”
She straightened, and alarm crossed her features. “Trapped? How?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time.”
“Not really.” I glared at her, preferring to get to the point, but told my tale anyway. She seemed the stubborn type.
She didn’t speak until the end. Her lips tightened. “Well, that does cause a problem.”
“For you?” I failed to hide my scepticism.
Her eyes narrowed. “Without the Keepers to return the Hellions to their prisons, we are vulnerable. Our whole purpose is to exist, to survive. Rampant Hellions, uncontrolled and free to devour whatever they choose will be the end of our kind.” She shot up from her throne, hair billowing. “You think the Daemon has what you need to release them?”
“He has to.”
She swam before me, as though she were pacing, her fingers fiddling with a pearl hanging around her neck.
Sabina looked between us with a frown. Did she fear for her kind, too? I hardly understood what creature could pose such a threat. Down here, where they were one with the water, nothing could touch them.
Judging by Coruscent’s worry, I was wrong.
Finally, she stilled. “As much as it pains me, it seems there is no other choice. I will return you to your previous form.”
Relief coursed through me. “Thank you.”
She held up a finger. “But, not without price.”
“I have nothing to give you.”
“You are all we need. I will change you back, but once your purpose is fulfilled, when the balance has been restored, you will return once more to us, to your new form.”
A smile broke through my frown. “Done.” It was an easy deal to accept. Once I left the lake, I’d never come back. The Herron would never lay claim to me again. There I would be, the first survivor of the Herrons.
