Waterwight Breathe

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Waterwight Breathe Page 4

by Laurel McHargue


  The crowd mumbles softly around us and I hear my name mentioned. They’re all startled to see me. I have no idea how long I’ve been gone, but the children appear to have grown. The twins, Katie and Lena, rest their hands on my shoulders. They’re a little taller, their childlike innocence faded. Have I been away that long? Does a moment spent in the realms of gods stretch into days or months on the planet?

  Ryder removes my makeshift bandage, drapes my stained emerald scarf across Nick’s chest, lifts Nick’s eyelids, and stares into his fading eyes. I stare too, and then something startling happens. I’m looking through Ryder’s eyes! He realizes it at the same moment, and his gaze shifts to me.

  “What—”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him. “Go back in.” I nod toward Nick, and Ryder turns his attention back to his task.

  I see what Ryder is seeing. Nick’s brain is swollen and pressing against his skull. I feel a pressure in my own head, and I know Ryder feels it too. He probably felt it first. It doesn’t really matter. Ryder knows how it should be, and he’ll make it right. We’ll make it right.

  I’m dizzy. I’m in Ryder’s head and Nick’s head at the same time and it’s confusing. I feel Ryder working to visualize space between my—I mean Nick’s—brain and skull. He says, “Too much water.”

  Will there ever be a time we’ll feel a balance between too much and not enough water on this planet?

  Too much water in Nick’s brain is a dangerous condition. I’m in his head and everything’s distorted by colorful rivulets of blue and red. I taste the blue copper and the red iron and feel a sudden intense thirst.

  “Quickly!” someone shouts. It sounds like Nick, or Ryder—I can’t distinguish the voices. I become like a sponge, my particles absorbing excess liquid.

  I can’t feel how much of me is in Nick’s brain—I still feel the weight of him in my lap—so I can’t be totally dissolved in him. Part of me wants to stay here, but that can’t work.

  Slowly, my vision clears. I see Ryder staring intently into my eyes, a slow expression of relief washes over him, and then I see—wait a minute. Then I see me. I’m looking at myself through . . .

  It must be through Nick’s eyes.

  And I don’t look so good. I look bloated and scared and there are dark circles under my eyes and my hair is a disaster and what are those purple droplets dripping from my lids? Purple tears?

  The murmuring around me grows louder, excitement electrifies voices, and with one stunning snap I’m back in my own head. I look down into the eyes of the boy I hold in my arms and he looks up at me, an exhausted smile hinting at the corners of his eyes and lips. I want to kiss him, but not here. Not now. And looking the way I know I look, I can’t imagine he’ll ever want to kiss me again.

  “Welcome back, Nick.” Ryder’s voice is sincere, but he still has that frightened expression I noticed before. Nick will be fine, I know this in a place deeper than my bone marrow, so I’ll have to ask what’s up as soon as we get him some food and rest.

  “Thanks, Ryder,” Nick says before turning back to me. “I’ve been dying to see you again, Pipsqueak. Like, seriously dying.”

  I laugh and cry at the same time, and someone pats me on the shoulder.

  “But where’s Chimney?” Katie sounds worried.

  “And Mason,” her sister Lena adds, “and Orville?”

  Several others in the group crowd in to hear my answer, and I feel awkward with Nick sprawled across my lap. He’s too weak to sit up by himself, so I maintain my grip around him. Awkward or not, he grasps me around the waist and appears to be in no rush to leave me.

  “They’re on the other side,” I say, “and they’re safe. I’ll find a way to get them back.”

  Nick squeezes me gently to steal back my attention. “I remember how I woke you up just a little while ago.” He whispers this so softly I can barely hear him, and my cheeks feel hot.

  He’s bolder than I remember. I like it.

  “And I have this strange feeling you tried to take advantage of my immobile condition in that cave.” His eyes are filled with mischief.

  Teresa pretends not to have heard him. “And where have you been all this time, Celeste? We thought we’d never see you again after you threw the spear and disappeared.” She lifts a corner of my scarf to wipe the colorful tears from my eyes. Her vision, hearing, and speech are restored. She kneels by my side and lays a hand on my arm, much like I did the first time I met her in her garden. I glance over to the garden and smile at the abundance I see. Her eyes search mine. She’s worried about me.

  “It’s a really long story and I promise to share it with you all, but Nick? How are you feeling?” There’s no way I’m going to sit here in the dirt and explain my escapes from the realms of two quarreling gods to a group of people breathing down my neck.

  “A little dizzy and really hungry and—” He squeezes me again just a little bit tighter and locks his eyes on mine. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing me home.” He looks to Ryder. “And Ryder, thanks again for fixing my noggin.”

  Ryder lowers his eyes. He looks embarrassed. I can tell he’s pleased with the healing he’s just managed, but why does he still look frightened? I take a moment to glance around the group and I see the same expression on several faces—relief over Nick’s healing, but mixed with fear.

  “Here, let me help you.” Mac steps from behind Teresa and lifts Nick from my lap. My legs have fallen asleep. I struggle to my feet and feel my muscles wobble.

  When the crowd parts to let Mac assist Nick into his house, I hear him—my friend from the other side. He whimpers softly and I see he’s been waiting impatiently on the outskirts of the crowd.

  “Ranger!” I crouch back down and open my arms, and he winds his way through the dispersing crowd until he’s within reach. I throw my arms around him and he gives me a tiny lick under my chin. I’m so happy to feel his full, furry neck. My feet and legs tingle as blood flows back into them. I want to ask him everything, but first things first.

  “We’ll catch up soon, my friend, but tell me. Why are people afraid? I’ll bring back Chimney and Orville and my father—can you believe my father’s alive?—but there’s something else. What is it?”

  “It is the boy, Bridger. He is gone. Taken many nights ago. He would not leave on his own.”

  “Taken? Who would take him? Why?” As soon as I ask the questions, though, I know who, and I know why. I remember the voices I heard when I was spread across the atmosphere searching for Noor. They took him to rebuild their lab. “Never mind. No need to answer. I’ll bring back the others and then we’ll find him. Oh, Ranger! It’s so good to see you again.”

  “And you, Celeste. Much has happened since the water cleared.” A dog I’ve never seen before slinks up tentatively behind Ranger and waits.

  And then the sky overhead darkens swiftly.

  ~ 10 ~

  IT’S NOOR. She blocks the sunlight and her rapidly beating wings produce a pleasant hum. I hadn’t noticed it before; it’s soothing. A sense of tranquility replaces the tension-filled atmosphere. She looks down at me with eyes like stars exploding, and the breeze from her wings is surprisingly gentle.

  “Why did you abandon us?” I call to her. I’m angry. In our time of great need, she stayed away.

  She holds my gaze and I’m lost in the swirling galaxies I see among the shattered stars, but I have my answer.

  I had to do it myself. I had to rely on my own speed and strength to save Nick.

  Noor doesn’t land, her wings would hit the rooftops—where does she live?—and I wait for what she might say, for what she might tell me I need to do next.

  She says nothing.

  Chimney’s squeaky voice cuts through the melodic hum of wings. “Here we come, Celeste! Hey, everyone!”

  I watch as Orville descends from Noor’s back with one arm around Chimney and another around my father. His emerald wings, startlingly large, shimmer as they carry him and his companions back to the ground.r />
  The villagers stand wide-eyed and hushed as Noor disappears into the sky, leaving behind a whoosh of warm wind and silence. A little piece of me wants to follow her, and as I stand, my feet tingle more than they did when my blood flowed back into them. I look to see if they’re visible, afraid for a moment they may have dissolved. They look like my feet, though the dust around them glows an emerald green.

  The mark on the back of my head tingles too.

  “You are changed,” Ranger says. He sniffs the dust hesitantly.

  “I know,” I say, because he’s right. And I’m not the only one who’s changed. It seems the villagers are no longer divided. The dynamics have changed.

  It feels good.

  Chimney has my father by the hand and pulls him toward me, and I watch as a beautiful woman runs to Orville’s open arms, his wings reflecting the sun brilliantly. She takes him by the hand and leads him off. He belongs to her now, I can sense it, and I feel a little sad—as if I’ve lost something—but I’m happy for him.

  What else has changed since my time with the gods, and what other newcomers have joined the village?

  I run to Dad and he lifts me into his arms the same way he used to day after day, years ago. He’s real, and somehow we’re reunited. It still feels like a dream.

  “Let me look at you, daughter!” He sets me back on my feet and, with his hands on my shoulders, stares into my eyes. “I knew you had to be alive. I just knew it. And when I walked from that world beneath the water, I knew someday I’d find you.”

  I feel a pang for my missing mother, and I can tell he sees it in my eyes. “Dad? Is it possible she—”

  Dad shakes his head before I finish my question. “Before I lost consciousness, I saw . . . no. She didn’t make it.” He pulls me into an embrace again, and we mourn, silently, together.

  I notice the villagers moving a respectful distance away to give us a private moment together, and at the same time, I feel their desire to be a part of our reunion—the kind of reunion many of them probably still imagine in their dreams.

  After several somber moments, Dad asks, “How’s Nick?”

  “Resting,” I say. “It was close, but Ryder healed him.” I don’t tell him about how pieces of me dissolved and helped with the repair in his brain. And I don’t need to tell him how much I’ve longed to breathe in the sweet scent of my mother again. He knows. But with his return to me after I’d finally accepted I’d lost them both, I dared to hope for more.

  “I wish I could tell you why I survived, Little Bear.” Dad chuckles at the nickname. “Look how big you’ve grown! Your mother would be so proud of you.” He holds my face between his hands. “And you have her eyes.”

  This makes me smile. She’s a part of me. “I’ve missed you both for so long. Where were you, Dad? How did you end up here?”

  “All I remember are bits and flashes of visions and feelings. Falling. The vile odor. Fear. Water and motion and a long, long, dream-filled sleep. Then, some kind of water slide and I was walking out of the water with other beings, and the people were all this same color.”

  The hermit crabs brought him here.

  “And what did Chimney mean when he said everyone thought you were, ah—”

  “Loose in the noodle?”

  “Yes.” We both chuckle. It was time to break the sadness.

  “I suppose I had what you might call an emotional breakdown. My brain was trying to make sense of everything, but it just couldn’t.” He looks at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before. “And I kept feeling like you were out there somewhere, if only I could find you. There were visions. I could see you.” He pulls me into a bear hug again and our tears—years of them pent up and repressed—drench his shirt.

  “There’s so much I need to tell you, Dad.” I pull away after the sobbing stops and scratch the back of my head to relieve the tingling. A familiar wave of fear flashes through me when I let go of him—a memory of my time trapped in the sandcastle

  “No need to tell me everything now, Celeste. And perhaps we should discuss what happened to Bridger. From what I’ve witnessed during my short time in the village, he’s a powerful little boy.”

  I hug him tightly once more and call to Ranger.

  “Could you track him, Ranger? He’s with Sharon’s parents. They’re treacherous.” I recall a hideous vision from when my brain was linked with Harmony’s. “They’re creating an army of dangerous creatures, and Blanche is with them too. She knew about Bridger’s power to build things, so they’re probably making him help them somehow.”

  “I could track him. Yes.” Ranger turns to the timid dog behind him and nudges her toward me. “Penelope came to us with evildoers. Ryder healed her after the battle. She knows of places beyond.”

  Penelope is hesitant to speak to me, but with another gentle nudge from Ranger, she relents. “Outlands are vast. Countless places to hide. I know of some. Not all.” She looks to Ranger for assurance, and he moves closer to her. Their sides touch. He’s found someone too.

  “These evildoers,” I say, “are there more?” I envision Sharon’s parents gathering together an army of the living to complement their dreadful creatures and I shudder.

  “Yes.” Penelope’s voice quavers, and when I reach out to her, she allows me to touch her. Her trembling stops, and Ranger licks my hand.

  “If they need his power, they won’t hurt him,” I say, as much to convince myself as the others. “He must be scared, though. Let’s talk with Orville about the best way to get him back.”

  “Orville’s with Riku. And hey! Where’s Nick?” Chimney scrunches his shoulders and looks concerned. “You said he’s better, right?”

  “Yes! Yes, he’s better. I’m sure he’s still resting.” I feel a sudden urge to be with Nick.

  As if sensing my need, Dad nudges me toward the house, keeping a protective hand on Chimney’s shoulder. “Go see how he’s doing,” he says. “I’ll stay with Ranger and some of the others and we’ll discuss the boy. We’ll find him, Celeste.”

  Dad has probably heard the story of how Nick and Chimney set out to find me. Now it’s my turn to hear it. I run to the house and up the stairs to a room I remember he once shared with Mac. The door is closed, and I feel all jittery inside. I don’t know what to expect, and I wish I’d stopped to bathe first, but it’s too late. I’ve already cracked the door open an inch.

  “Is that you, Pipsqueak?”

  I enter tentatively, not sure if I should close the door behind me or open it wider. Why do my legs feel so weak? I close the door.

  “What took you so long?” Nick sits up in bed, shirtless, and looks at me expectantly.

  What he’s expecting, I don’t know. He was nearly dead just moments earlier, but now he looks like he did when I first met him. He looks . . . extraordinary. His copper skin glows and his sandy blonde hair is perfectly messy. His eyes assess me, and he looks amused by what he sees.

  “I was talking with Ranger and Penelope about Bridger. Did you hear? They’ve taken him.” I’m all talk, and I mentally kick myself.

  “Who’s taken him? Where?” His eyes are on fire, and I feel their heat. I want to run back into the hallway and start over. Instead, I tell him what I know.

  “And what were you and Chimney thinking, coming after me like you did?” I kick myself again. My accusatory tone hangs like a frayed live wire in the space between us.

  “I . . . we . . .”

  “I’m sorry!” I blurt, barely able to stand myself anymore. “I’m sorry and I’m grateful to you—so grateful!—but you could have died! Both of you could have died, and then what would I do?” Through blurred vision I see Nick leave his bed and step toward me.

  “Celeste!” He throws his arms around me and I sink against him. “We didn’t! We didn’t die! We had to find you! I had to find you.”

  My tears soak his chest and he rocks me gently until I finally stop crying. I’m exhausted, I’m hungry, I can’t believe I have any tears left—and I’m
in love.

  “Tell me. Tell me how you found me. I need to know everything.” I want him to mention the kiss again.

  He tells me everything he remembers, but when he gets to the part about the black hermit crabs and the water tunnels, I recall my own fall from the sky and baffling delivery to Kumugwe’s castle—and a startling image of each god growing weaker outside his natural realm surfaces to the forefront of my consciousness.

  “Kumugwe’s trapped on an island and Odin’s trapped in Kumugwe’s castle underwater!” I blurt, jumping back from the warmth of Nick’s arms. I’m such an idiot.

  Nick looks at me, baffled. He knows nothing of what I’ve endured since I threw the Spear of Sorrow into the water and disappeared into Odin’s ethereal realm.

  And then I feel them before I see them. Odin’s ravens are on their way.

  ~ 11 ~

  “HIS RAVENS! They’re coming! I have to get outside!” I leave Nick standing in the bedroom and run outside. Every nerve in my body tingles and I feel like I’m losing myself. Huginn and Muninn had trapped me before in the powerful force field between their wing tips and nearly prevented my escape from Odin’s realm. If it hadn’t been for Noor’s feather-scorching rescue, I’d probably still be trapped in Asgard.

  And I never would have ended up in Kumugwe’s castle, and I never would have learned about Zoya’s torture, and I never would have been able to help free her from Sharon’s wicked parents.

  Why me?

  All eyes are on me when I run out the door. “Hide!” I shout to them as I scan the sky for trouble. Without questioning me, everyone scatters but Dad and Ranger, who rush to my side—my defenders. They follow my gaze and watch as two black specks in the sky grow larger.

  “What are they?” Dad whispers.

  “Odin’s ravens. Last time I saw them they were trying to capture me.” Something about their approach this time feels different, though. “Odin is trapped underwater. They feel . . . lost.”

 

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