Ethira

by J D Evergreen

  Jarmile glances at us, pity in her features. “Melissa is a very strong woman,” is all Jarmile offers to her frightened child.

  This seems to settle the young girl who goes off to sit in a nearby cluster of small yellow flowers.

  Lucas paces back and forth while Nathanial busies himself with cooking the fish. No one says anything, and Melissa doesn’t show any sign of stirring.

  Lexa ties a cold compress across the now clean bite, and we all sit back. We can do nothing now but wait.

  Nathanial passes out the cooked fish, and it feels dry and flavorless in my mouth. We sit in tense silence, afraid any noise would cover the sound of Melissa stirring.

  Lucas sits beside her, holding her hand, his fish forgotten. “Why isn’t she waking?” he whines.

  Miss Q sprinkles herbs into a paste she is making and glances up. “She took quite a hit to the head, and now her body is fighting off whatever the spider put into her. It is a heavy toll on the body.”

  She doesn’t say it, but we all think it. This toll might be too high for Melissa.

  Jamie inches up to Melissa and lays a bunch of flowers, tied together with grass, by her head next to the smooth, colorful rock she found earlier. She settles down beside Melissa and holds each of the things up for Melissa as if she might at any moment open her eyes to see them. “I picked some of the butter flowers you said could be eaten. You are right, they do taste like milk. I picked some for you too,” the young girl says waving the flowers about before carefully putting them beside Melissa's pale face. “I found this pretty rock,” she continues. “And I thought you might like it because it’s pretty and tough like you.”

  The little girl sits quietly for a moment and my heart aches as if my unshed tears are welling inside it.

  “Melissa, you have to wake up,” she pleads. “We were going to weave nets today and eat butter flowers until our tummies hurt. I don’t want to do that with anybody but you.”

  Jamie lets out a big sniffle, and her mother comes to collect her. “Jamie, that was very nice of you, but we should let Melissa rest.”

  The group resumes its silence, and the young girl's heartfelt pleas sit within my stomach. I want Melissa to wake up too.

  I glance at Lexa and finger the gem in my pocket. It woke Lexa before, so why not Melissa? Slowly, hesitantly, I take it out of my pocket, Lexa's eyes lock with mine and dart back to Miss Q who is now applying the paste to Melissa's bite. Knowing about the gems and seeing how they work are two different things, but we cannot leave Melissa like this.

  I loop it around my neck and wait. Lexa takes a deep breath and retrieves her necklace too. Together we head over to Melissa and kneel on opposite sides.

  Lexa looks up at me, her green eyes huge. “Do you think this will work?”

  I swallow. “I think we have to try.”

  I place my hand on Melissa's head, careful of the swollen lump and bruising around her temple. Lexa mirrors my actions. I take a deep breath and reach out for Lexa's other hand.

  Our fingertips meet, and blue-green light explodes around us making the fire look dim in comparison. A flow of power rushes through me, and I feel it seep into Melissa. Lines of blue begin to erupt over my skin appearing faster than it has in the past.

  I ignore the burning sensation of skin being torn apart and focus all my attention on Melissa waking. She twitches, and for a moment I fear she will have another seizure but the movement settles. Painful searing announces the arrival of a long magic wound across my stomach.

  By now I am coated in numerous wounds. I look up to find Lexa is sporting only five visible magic cuts. Blue light pierces through the back of my hand as Melissa’s eyes blink open.

  I release my hold on Lexa and slump over myself as pain wracks my body. Lexa now has, six emerald green punctures which shine brightly and one has taken over the cut by her eye.

  Melissa stirs below me, and I look down. The nasty swollen lump on her head has disappeared, and all that remains is a splattering of blue and purple bruising.

  Melissa licks her lips and croaks, “I got hit by a tree, and I still look better than you do.”

  I let out a small bark of laughter. “It is good to see you are feeling better.”

  Melissa lets out a small sigh and enters a peaceful sleep. Everyone rushes over, and Lucas fusses over Melissa's head and readjusts her makeshift pillow.

  Miss Q places a paw on my shoulder, and I am led to a spot by the fire and she settles me down beside Lexa. I clutch at my arms as a shiver runs through me.

  The Quelton returns with a blanket, which she throws over the two of us and brings us a cup of hot tea. She twitches her snout as she looks at us. “You shouldn’t have done that. Your magic has greater consequences than you know.”

  I rub my aching head. “She is our friend.”

  “You knew about our magic?” Lexa cuts in.

  “Of course I did. I could feel it in you when I met the two of you, and after being inside Claire's mind, there is not much I do not know.”

  I shift uncomfortably and glance at Lexa. The Quelton gives me a small smile. “I will not share anything that is not absolutely necessary.” I nod and let out a slow breath.

  Lexa sips her tea. “Do you know what the consequences of using our magic is?”

  Miss Q lets out a long huff of air through her small snout. “Magic that powerful leaves a mark, a stain that cannot be removed.”

  My eyebrows furrow. “What do you—?”

  A silver object darts by, too close for comfort. The loud whine of its mechanical engines drowns out my question.

  Lexa staggers to her feet, her tanned skin made pale by the plethora of bright green lines coating her body. “We need to go.”

  Another large silver dart flashes past, its droning engine pairing with its buddy and creating an unbearable noise.

  I climb to my feet, fighting off nausea that screams at me to stop. Tash, Jarmile and Jamie dart around the clearing, stuffing all our belongings into bags, while Miss Q puts out the fire.

  Nathanial, finally having a use for his strength, seizes one end of Melissa's makeshift stretcher, and Lucas is quick to grab the other.

  Together we hurry through the undergrowth using the largest ferns as cover from the flying machines scouring the area, performing an inch by inch search of the birthing grounds. My aching magic wounds throb painfully, and sapphire light pours through the cuts on my arms. I grunt and wrap my blanket tighter around myself. I am basically a beacon in the shadowy cavern.

  Lexa isn’t doing much better than me, but at least she has been able to throw her tunic on. Mine has been stuffed into one of our bags and seeing as we are running for our lives, this isn’t really the time to stop and dig through them to find it.

  I dodge around a small fern and stumble over a rock hidden behind it. Regaining my footing, I glance back as silver darts converge on our position and my stomach tightens. Melissa is being jostled unceremoniously, and I am glad Tash took the time to remove her knives when she did.

  My hands and face cast an eerie blue glow along the dark ferns that mixes with Lexa's emerald green light. There is no way the machines cannot be seeing us.

  “We should split up,” I yell over the whistle droning throughout the clearing. “Lexa and I are too noticeable, and we can’t move fast with Melissa like this.”

  Tash casts us a pained look. “Maybe there is shelter ahead.”

  Miss Q zips towards us and slows to keep pace with us lumbering humans. “I have created a fire off to the other side of the birthing grounds. Hopefully, that draws them away.”

  As if her words had a magical effect, the large flying darts rush towards the sight of smoke in the distance. I nod and force air into my lungs, my tired body screaming in protest with every jarring footstep.

  We come upon a ledge and find the remains of a bridge. Our hope for escape fades as my eyes lock on to the cut rope. I crouch and pick up the cable. This has been cut recently with a very sharp blade and t
he fibers haven’t even had a chance to fray yet.

  My stomach twists. Either we are being followed, or— I cast a glance at the people behind me, —someone here is preventing our escape. Lexa steps beside me and glances at the rope in my hand and her face pales at the sight of it, and she too looks over the group standing around us.

  The ground trembles and the dirt around us begins to crack. I stumble to my feet and push Lexa back into the ferns, and she tumbles onto firmer ground. The wave of fissures surrounds my shoes, and I take a hasty step back, but the ground beneath my feet crumbles, and with it the world beneath me gives way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Trapped

  My heart leaps into my throat as rocks fall around me and dimly I hear my name called as I tumble down the rock face. Stones dig into my sides, and I strike my head on something solid that brings forth a burst of silver spots. I try to turn my body, so I am falling feet first, but the rolling movement of the dirt beneath me spins and turns me, heedless of my best efforts.

  Finally, the tumbling comes to an end, and I lay crumpled and gasping for air buried amongst a pile of dirt and stones, not daring to move. Every part of me burns.

  One breath at a time, I return air into my lungs. I can’t find the energy to move and everywhere dust clouds my vision like a thick impenetrable fog. I try to lift my head from the jagged piles of rocks that attempt to pillow it, but my eyelids droop, and darkness fills my vision.

  I jerk up and lick my dry lips. The dust has settled, and everything has taken on a deathly silence. How long have I been asleep for? I try to pull myself up but pain flares through my legs and I look down to find I am buried to the waist in dirt and rocks.

  I grit my teeth and wipe at the dried blood on my head as fire flares through my trapped legs. I force out a slow breath. I suppose I should be grateful for the pain. No pain would be a more terrifying indicator. Slowly, painfully, I begin pulling rocks and dirt away from me, with shaking disobedient hands.

  Exhaustion is a funny thing, the way it eats at your will power. I valiantly struggle to pull a head-sized rock away from my legs, and with a grunt, it rolls free. Hundreds of smaller rocks fill its place.

  I groan and slump forward, leaning across the rock I had designated as my pillow, the taste of dirt on my cracked lips.

  My body shudders from the painful movement, but I am too tired to do anything about it. A small smirk crawls across my face. At least when I die here, I am already halfway buried.

  I watch a white beetle strut across the rocks, gloating as it freely moves its six tiny legs. I glare at the beetle. The damn thing doesn’t know how good it has it.

  I lay in the rocks for hours, perhaps even days. It’s hard to tell when consciousness swims and fades before your eyes, and it’s not like the darkness of the cavern does anything to help track the time.

  I swallow, attempting to soothe my parched throat, but my dry mouth offers no relief. Cracked and dry lips scream with my throat, competing over who has it worse.

  Rocks shift in the distance, and dreamily I move my straining eyes towards the sound, my vision swimming with the movement, and my stomach violently complains. Maybe if I am lucky it is some animal coming to eat me? That has to be quicker than dying trapped in the rocks like this.

  A man with vibrant red hair comes into focus. He is searching through the boulders, rolling things here and there. He stoops to pick up a dirty and mangled fern leaf. The red-headed man inspects the mottled foliage and shoves it into a basket he has on his back. Hope spikes within me, and I watch as he approaches. Surely he must see me? The man wanders around, oblivious to the urgency of my situation. Something catches his attention, and he moves away, slowly heading out of sight.

  Fear builds in my stomach. He hasn’t seen me. I try to find the ability to call out, but speech has fled with the moisture of my mouth. Painfully, I draw the small dagger I had taken from Melissa out of my chest binding. Blood coats the edge of the blade, and I grimace.

  I grip the little metal knife and force my arm towards the nearest rock. The blade falls from my grip and clatters noisily against the stone, ringing throughout the area. The man stops, turns and searches the stones.

  I reach for the knife and my fingers skitter across the edge, spinning it just out of reach. I take a deep breath and launch at the dagger. Agony flows through my back and arms but I manage to grasp the blade. Its sharp edges cut into my palm, pressed there by the force of my grip. I focus all my will on lifting this small dagger. This time I drop it over a large flat rock, and the metallic clatter rings loud and true.

  The man locks his eyes on me and hurries over. I grope in the dust and take hold of my tiny metal saviour.

  The man with fuzzy red hair crouches down beside me, his bright blue eyes startling against the deep mane of red. He leans forward, and a purple crystal swings out from his shirt dangling in the dusty air. The purple gem gleams in the dim light of the cavern. My eyes lock onto it, and my hand painfully rises to the one I have around my neck. I pull it out of my shirt, and it glows brightly in my hand.

  The man follows my movement, his eyes widen, and an audible swallow follows when he realizes what I am showing him.

  I lick my cracked lips with my sandpaper tongue and look up at him and the importance of this next word needs to be conveyed in a single gasping breath. “Lexa.”

  The man’s eyebrows shoot up, and darkness consumes me once more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Keeper

  I awake to painful jostling, and find someone is attempting to pull my clothes from me.

  “We need to get her in water, if she won’t wake enough to take any, this is our best option.” Says a female voice

  Water is splashed over my exposed arms and legs. Someone touches my necklace, lifting it from my chest, and agony flows through me.

  “No.” A strong male voice calls out. “Leave it, I am pretty sure that gem is the only reason why she is not dead.”

  The hand near my necklace draws away and the crystal sits once again upon my skin. I sigh in relief. I flutter my eyes, and a soft squeal proceeds a wooden spoon filled with water pressing against my mouth. The water spills over my parched lips, dribbling down my face and neck. It’s glorious. Eagerly I open my mouth, desperate for more.

  “Slowly, my dear girl,” says a kindly older voice. “Too much too soon will make you ill.”

  I drag my eyes away from the spoon and rest them on an older woman with greying hair, her brilliant red overalls dulling the rest of the colors in the room.

  “Thank you. Who are you?” I croak.

  The woman returns to scoop a third spoon full of water for me. “Carissa is the name my mother gave me.”

  A man pops into my vision, his red hair standing around his head like a halo. “So, what were you doin’ playing in the rocks like you were?” He sings at me.

  I furrow my brows as darkness tinges the edges of my vision. “Landslide,” I utter before I fall into the blackness once more.

  I roll over with a groan, and the world spins before me. I fight back a dry retch and pull myself from the soft sheets. I lean over the bed, resting my elbows on my knees as I rub my face.

  The crystal around my neck swings forward, and its sapphire light beams into the dim room. I clutch it in my hand to dim its glow, but surely more people than I care to mention are aware of the strange necklace by now.

  I am clad in some kind of long white shirt that falls to my knees, dwarfing my already small body. I take a slow breath and glance down at my legs, to find I am covered in bruises from my feet to my hips. Gingerly, I touch the tender skin and the moderate pain that comes with bruising runs from the pressure of my fingers.

  How can it be, that after falling down that cliff and being pinned between rocks, the only outward signs I have is bruising? No broken bones, no missing limbs, not so much as a cut. Well, except for the magic wounds spread across my body. I wriggle my toes, and the small blue cuts coating them flare
with life.

  I inspect the nearest wound. Sapphire light pools from the inch-long cut on my elbow as it rudely pushes its way through my skin to meet the world. I sigh. It is almost as if these magic wounds are a permanent addition to my body.

  I spot a glass of water on the nearby table and eagerly grasp it. My first instinct is to guzzle, but the woman’s words remind me to drink slowly. The water helps to ease the pounding in my head and far too soon the glass is empty.

  I set the cup down and find my clothes neatly folded on the floor beside my bed. I struggle into them. By the time I have them on, I am panting and covered in sweat. Shaking, I perch back on the edge of the bed.

  “No, you can’t go in there; she is resting,” calls a shrill voice.

  The door across from me is flung open as whoever that call was for disobeys.

  Lexa stands in the doorway, covered in dirt and dust. Her emerald eyes land on me and in three swift steps she crosses the room and pulls me into her arms. “Claire. I feared the worst,” she whispers as she pulls me closer.

  My body relaxes into her embrace, and I hold her back, shaking from exhaustion but unwilling to let go of the woman in my arms.

  I lick my lips. “It will take more than a falling wall of rocks to take me out.”

  Lexa chuckles in my arms. “Yes, you are far too stubborn to be defeated by a few tons of stone.”

  I smile. “Exactly.”

  Carissa sweeps into the room, looking harassed as my small dirty group of companions peep in through the doorway.

  “Claire,” squeals Tash, not bothering to let me and Lexa separate before she adds herself to the hug. “We have been looking for you for three days.”

  Lucas comes in and joins in on the group hug. “We were starting to think you had been squished.”

  Tash whacks him.

  I peek over their shoulders to find Melissa standing pale and unsteady on her feet beside Nathanial and they both smile at me.

  I am swallowed by the hug and squeeze the group back and feel another set of arms join the embrace. I turn, expecting to find that Melissa has caved and joined the hug, only to get a face full of wiry red hair.