by Lisa Daniels
“Please. Anyone but him.”
“It’s a deal.” He lifted his hand from her at last, feeling a small thrill of happiness that he’d been allowed to touch her for so long, and she hadn’t pushed him away. A good sign.
“Come to think of it,” Alex said, now getting up into a sitting position on the bed, looking around, “where is Natalie?”
He looked as well, and realized with a small jolt that Natalie was nowhere. The bathroom door was open, and she clearly wasn’t in there. She’d left. Was there a note? Did she leave one behind? His eyes settled on a piece of parchment upon the table. Yes. There.
“She’s left us a note...” he finally clambered out of bed, a little upset that he had to leave the heat of the bedcovers, though glad to be rid of his erection, and strode over to where the sheet was. He intended to read it out loud for her benefit, but she asked if she could try. He handed it to her, and her fingers made the paper shake as she began to falteringly read.
Meridas and Alex,
Gone to get my servants. Shouldn’t be any longer than two hours. (Time is about six now.) You know where the food is. I suggest wrapping warm—it gets cold when you approach the center of the island.
Natalie
She finished and looked at him, surprised, apparently, to have not been interrupted.
“It was good reading,” he said. “You said everything right. Just need to speed up a little and know where the natural pauses are.” He winked at her, and she grinned.
“Finally, I’m getting somewhere with this reading thing.”
“It’s about seven forty now,” he said, checking the brass, cog-work clock that ticked incessantly upon the wall above the sofa bed. He wondered vaguely how Natalie had managed to sleep under that. Or maybe she didn’t sleep at all. “So… twenty minutes to eat and dress.”
“You do the food. I’ll dress,” she said, immediately starting to rifle through clothes. Not seeing anything wrong with the suggestion, he took out two more tins, this time of chicken soup, and lit the stove once more. The fire by now had burned to cinders, with only two tiny, red spots left among the ashes. They kept up a stream of conversation doing their activities. Little topics that edged into aspects of their past. How he felt about Natalie, for example, seemed to be one.
“She’s a good woman, but we don’t really… get along that well. Too headstrong, I suppose. That appealed to me at first, but… no, I wouldn’t want to go through that again.” He sniffed at the soup inside the pot, impatient for it to heat up.
“You still remain in contact, all the same?”
“Not really. This is the first time she’s visited in years. And I understand why. I did have a miracle healer in my employ, after all.” Which reminded him… “Speaking of that, I believe I owe you a gold circ or two. I’ll arrange for those to be delivered to your rooms later. Once we get through all of this.”
She beamed at him, before wrestling on a baggy top. “I’m thinking of using the money to get a few games, and maybe secure a trip down to the Undercity to give Mistress Sue a visit. She’s the woman who helped raise me up. She’s not a perfect person, but I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for her. So I’d like to get her some things. She’s been complaining about her bad cooking utensils for ages… I thought I’d give her a brand-new, cast-iron cauldron and a few more pots and pans. Cauldron’s the best for feeding many people at once, you can make enough soup or stew in one for everyone...” she trailed off, looking wistful. Hastily, he turned back to the chicken soup, peeling off one burned bit with the wooden stirring spoon.
“That sounds… nice of you.”
“I won’t forget where I came from,” she said then, softly. “But neither will I forget to be grateful for the fact that I’m here now. With you.”
His heart did a crazy leap. ‘With you’ sounded awfully like she was admitting she liked him. In the kind of way he wanted to be liked.
“I get that,” he said, now lifting the soup off the stove, turning the stove off, and preparing bowls to pour it into. “I won’t forget where I came from, either. I was only a little boy, but I remember the island I was growing up on. Dragons above us in the skies every day. Great roosting places the dragons liked to go on, and a manor even grander than the one my father lives in. My mother would be training other air witches… she’d sometimes show off her powers...” he smiled at the long-ago memories, now tinted with a small sadness. “I like my new home, of course, and miss the old one…”
“I can’t imagine that,” she said softly, approaching him and taking her now-filled soup bowl. “Losing your home and having to live in another one. I never lost mine, so to speak. I might have been imprisoned to die, but my home was still there, you know?”
“Yeah,” he said, after a silence stretched between them. They cleaned up, both got dressed, occasionally talking, but with the tension increasing between them, somehow. Until Meridas wanted something to change. To snap. He wanted to convert those open eyes of hers to closed as he kissed her soft, inviting lips. Was it so wrong for him to want this? Even though it probably wasn’t the most appropriate of times to approach her? To storms with it.
Midway through a sentence she was dredging up for the excuse of conversation, he grabbed her by the shoulders and drew her into a kiss.
She wasn’t expecting it at all. Her eyes widened in astonishment, and her body stiffened at his touch. The materials of their outfits scratched together, and for one horrifying moment, Meridas thought he had massively screwed up. Right until the point where she began to kiss back.
Chapter Seven – Alex
Pouring herself into the kiss, her eyes closed and she shut out the voice in the back of her head screaming that this was stupid. His lips were hot and pleasant, and the amount of fabric between them was disappointing, to say the least. She wanted so much more. She wanted to rip these silly clothes off and yank him over to the bed, so they could experience exactly what a man and a woman were capable of together.
Except, of course, that was the time Natalie chose to return. She knocked, forcing Alex and Meridas to spring apart in a startled manner, and Natalie entered with two men standing behind her, heavily cloaked against the light rains now falling, despite the sunlight.
“Here’s my servants,” Natalie said, not noticing anything between them, or choosing to ignore it. Her dark eyes did linger on Meridas for a moment, though, one eyebrow raised. So, she probably suspected. If not saw.
Alex avoided eye contact with Meridas the whole time they prepared, and then they left for their journey to the core on a strangely empty island. Which Natalie said was due to evacuations going on to make sure no one would be caught wrong-footed when the island eventually toppled. Some people still clung to their homes, however, refusing to accept that they were falling. Her heart did some crazy lurches all the while, as she attempted to process the kiss from earlier. A kiss that very much told her that Meridas liked her in a way that meant he planned to do horizontal things with her.
So it seemed he’d made his choice.
And Alex? She examined the feelings inside as they walked across rough stone, trying not to slip. What did she want? For she was still adapting to her new life in the clouds. Still coming to grips with her magic, wishing she had someone to teach her about it. And she didn’t know if it was wise to allow the kiss to happen, to accept it.
But skies, did she want it.
“We’re here,” Natalie said, stopping outside an unassuming door with the pattern of a blue spiral carved upon it. “This will lead to the catacombs where the core is. And I’m not going to follow any farther. Good luck.” She gave Meridas and Alex brief hugs, before whispering into Alex’s ear, “Take care of him. Okay?”
Before Alex had time to respond, Natalie stepped away and began transforming into her slate-gray dragon, and buffeting them with her wings as she took to the skies.
Alex was left to ponder the lady’s statement, but only briefly, as the door opened in front of them, and
they descended a sloping tunnel. The two servants didn’t introduce themselves by name and didn’t speak at all, except to beckon, which made Alex wonder if they’d taken a vow of silence or something.
Something about the silence unnerved Alex and made her twitch at unexpected noises. She dreaded to think what might be discovered at the heart of this island—if it might be some monstrous version of the virus she sensed in Lady Vash, one that didn’t let go until the last flicker of life in its host went out.
Suddenly she didn’t want to be here anymore. But… she’d promised. And people were in danger of losing their homes. Why back off when she had the ability to help?
Why does it have to be me, though? Why do I have to do it? Out of all the people who might have been born with this stupid power, it was her. She could think of plenty of people who’d use it selfishly, for profit. Skies, she’d considered it herself. Pretending to be some quack healer on the streets, foisting off her ability as potions, but that still led to the possibility of her being accused as a witch. Seemed people wanted magic powers to be healed, but when they showed up, people decided, actually, they’d prefer the magic person to be executed, as they messed with the natural order of things.
The tunnel grew colder, but not darker, as light orbs locked in holders illuminated the way. Alex appreciated the clothing she’d been encouraged to wear. She also deeply appreciated Meridas being behind her, but… now wondered if this was wise. He would be in danger, surely. But she was too selfish to ask him to leave, because she didn’t want to be alone.
It changed to wider, labyrinthian passages all too soon, going through a confusing, unclear set of paths which Alex was certain she’d have gotten lost in, before they reached what appeared to be a huge antechamber, with a glimmering stone somehow floating and crackling with energy in the very center, spinning at a gentle pace. But of course, the impossibility was that a huge lump of rock could help make a whole island float at all. Tendrils of energy seemed to stretch from the hoverstone like chains, fueling the rocky ceiling and floor beneath.
“We have these at the heart of every island,” Meridas said, since the servants did not appear inclined to say anything. “I don’t know how it works myself, but this is how an island floats. Inside is a kind of tempest within the rock itself. A magical energy that cushions the whole island. There have not been new islands for centuries, so we’re uncertain what it takes to make one.” He stayed at a careful distance from everyone else, arms folded, eyes roving for potential dangers. Alex also felt an incessant thirsting for her magic, though faint, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Yes. The disease was here.
“I’m more interested in why people thought it was important to make floating islands in the first place,” Alex said. In her mind, she saw wealthy, gluttonous people huddled together and rubbing their hands gleefully as they came up with a way to separate themselves from the filth of the poor. What better way to show off their status and remind the poor of their place than to have huge islands blotting out the skies above?
“Who knows? There could be a number of reasons. But do you sense… illness? I don’t see any.” And he was clearly afraid to come any nearer.
The servants stood wordlessly, heads bowed, hoods shadowing their faces. They didn’t respond when prompted, which Alex found odd and awkward. They did respond to instructions, though, and Meridas got them to point out where the corruption was supposed to be. A small blob of discoloring, where the blue was lighter than usual, which made Alex wonder if it was the same disease. Or maybe it affected living hosts differently.
In the luminous antechamber, the orbs surrounding it within the dome-like room revealed patterns carved into the arching walls that looked like language, but nothing Alex recognized. The squiggles themselves seemed to have a faint glow, as if the writing was somehow alive. Was the writing linked to the hoverstone? Did it glow because it was all connected?
There was just so much she didn’t know. Didn’t understand. It made her feel small, insignificant, a child playing at magic when she barely even understood why she could utilize it in the first place.
No one prompted her, but she approached the source of floating, feeling the lusting for her magic grow the nearer she got. The light spots upon the stone swirled violently, and the servants now shuffled away, not willing to be at the epicenter of whatever occurred.
It’s… stronger, she thought, fear bubbling inside. Had that woman pretending to be Natalie’s mother known about this? Did she have answers? Would she have shared them?
All too late. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no real training. This is suicide, surely. I was just lucky before.
Something flitted before her. A darkness that stirred. She froze in blank horror, waiting for movement. After a few seconds, she thought she saw shadows coalesce. No, she definitely saw—the shadows bubbled upward from the ground in front of her, forming the vague, translucent shape of a human. The form became clearer, until with a jolt of awe and fear, the figure became solid enough for them to all witness a red-haired, green-eyed woman with light brown robes covering her body. A soft nose and rounded chin helped give the impression of an ageless beauty, and the eyes were hooded, heavy and sad.
“Zamorkan witch!” Meridas spat. Alex didn’t dare look back at him, since she didn’t want to take her eyes off the woman—who seemed to have attention exclusively for her. She said nothing, but the sadness radiated from her.
“Relax,” one of the servants whispered at last. “This is a well-documented phenomenon. This woman always appears when a stone is in danger of failing.”
“It’s the first I’ve heard about it,” Meridas said.
“Who are you?” Alex whispered, feeling an odd kinship with the woman. Something that clicked inside just right, like somehow, she should have known this woman before.
And just like that, answers began teasing themselves into her mind, though the woman never spoke. It was like clouds had parted in Alex’s thoughts, revealing the information tucked within.
The Zamorkan woman who had yelled about a blood bond—it did have basis.
Somehow, Alex knew that all Zamorkans alive today had descended from this woman. And that those with a stronger blood heritage than Alex could sense a kinship just like she did now with the red-haired… ghost? Was it a ghost? Alex sensed she’d been dead for a long time.
A very, very long time…
The suggestion of thousands of years tumbled against Alex’s consciousness, but her brain couldn’t wrap itself around the concept. The ancient ghost held up her robed arms so that the sleeves rolled back. Green, twisting veins revealed themselves, and another impression worked itself out in Alex’s mind.
This ancient ghost was slowly but surely dying. And even Alex’s magic couldn’t cure her. In addition, her magic could not help the rock. This island would be gone in months. As for the woman…
If she died, then the disease would be unleashed in full.
She had…
She had sacrificed herself eons ago. To stop something fundamentally destructive to magic and life forms. She had become a container that held it. But the container eroded over time. And with each breakthrough of this disease, magic suffered. Stones lost their power. People died. Ley lines and places of magical power in the world diminished, and the magical creatures such as dragons died out.
“We have seen this woman before,” the raspy-voiced servant continued. “She always appears when a stone becomes ill. But she does not talk. We are studying why she appears in relation to the illness.”
They… Alex thought, with shock. They can’t feel the message. They don’t sense this information.
Only Zamorkan heritage could sense the message. And it wasn’t like Zamorkans were popular people up here.
“She does not harm us, but she has shown her arms before like this. There were mentions before, when many of the stone islands fell, that she appeared as well. But her arms were not covered in green back then.”
The woman went to place a hand upon the stone, on the infected spot. More knowledge flooded Alex, before she faded away.
“Gentlemen,” Alex said, now backing away from the stone. “I know who she is. And I know what’s happening.”
Chapter Eight – Meridas
Safely inside the bungalow again, Meridas watched as Alex repeated her information to the gathered scholars there for probably her sixth retelling. When word came that someone knew why the red woman haunted the stones, all the scholars and teachers came begging to hear Alex’s story firsthand.
The stone remained uncured. Natalie’s mother remained missing, and the Conclave of Zamorka were ever prominent, with hints of them operating in the Undercity. More people were evacuating from Natalie’s island, preparing for the inevitable.
And Alex, that strange woman with the blonde lock in her hair, who could understand the message locked behind something old and long gone… he felt a cold shiver at the thought that if she’d gone ahead and touched the stone to heal it, as was their original intention—the effort would have killed her.
“This contradicts the Ruthar Chronicles,” one of the yellow-robed scholars was saying in Meridas’ study. Two dozen of them were crammed up, scribbling notes with a kind of frantic urgency to absorb knowledge. “They state that the woman is a harbinger of doom, that she must be a curse sent over from the ancient Zamorkan witches to bring us low. But you’re saying that this witch is actually protecting us and has been trying to warn us all this time.”
“Yes,” Alex said, arms folded, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention afforded her. She used his desk as a barrier from the other people. Meridas himself sat in his favorite purple-lined armchair with a book clasped in his hands. “But obviously, you’re not really on friendly terms with people from Zamorka… and people like me…” She self-consciously twiddled with the lock in her hair. “We don’t make it up to the sky towns a lot. At least, Narl says that.”