by J. M. Lee
“Wait!” skekSa snapped, holding skekZok back. “Wait, you fool. skekTek wanted to see if Gelfling can absorb one another’s powers. Isn’t that why he wanted twins? Naia is very gifted at healing. I’ve seen it myself.”
Though skekZok seemed impatient to get on with covering up his mistake, he hesitated.
“So?”
skekSa pushed past skekZok and spread her three remaining claws out.
“So,” she crooned at Gurjin. “Go on, little Drenchen. Take your sister’s magic and heal her.”
Everything hurt, and Naia felt thick wetness gushing over her face. She tried to lift herself from Amri’s arms, but her body wouldn’t move, as if she were strapped down by heavy bands of pain.
Take my powers?
Gurjin jerked away when skekSa nudged him with a claw.
“What—” he began. He shook his head. “Take her magic?”
“Yes. Don’t you want to save her? Don’t you love her?”
“Of course I . . .”
skekSa shoved Gurjin down to his knees beside Amri and Naia.
“Then you don’t have a choice. Take her Drenchen-healing vliyaya. Take it and use it. Do whatever it takes to survive. That’s what you Gelfling do, isn’t it?”
Was it even possible? Naia thought she felt wet on her cheek, but she didn’t know if it was blood or Gurjin’s tears of desperation.
“If it’s possible,” she tried to tell him. If you can, then you might as well. I’ll die otherwise, and then what good will my powers do?
“Naia . . .”
Naia closed her eyes as darkness crept in, and a numb cold lapped at her fingertips. She wanted to take his hands and press them against the wound, will him to heal her, even though there was no reason to believe that he could. She was the healer. He was the soldier. That was how it had always been. Ever since they’d been young.
Naia had hated it, rejected it, and eventually grown to accept it. Had begun to find her own place when she’d left home for the first time. Realized her powers of dreamfasting, wild and uncontrolled, could be focused. That her healing powers were special.
If Gurjin took all that from her, where did that leave her? Who would she be if she could no longer shine in the world that was full of darkness?
Suddenly there was light.
Saturating her body, bright and warm, like the sun breaking through the clouds of a storm. Naia opened her eyes. Through the brightness she could see her brother’s brow crinkled in effort, focusing on her wounds as radiant blue flowed out from the flats of his palms.
Blue light. Vliyaya—flames of the blue fire. Gelfling magic.
It was coming from Gurjin.
CHAPTER 4
SkekSa’s crisp voice disrupted the stillness.
“Well, what do you know. skekTek’s theory was right.”
Gurjin’s hands blazed with blue flame, the tongues of the magic light curling along Naia’s wound as it healed. The magic tingled and itched, stitching her broken veins and skin together until the gash in her forehead had stopped bleeding.
“Right, that’s enough,” skekSa rumbled. “Can’t have you healed up so much you’re fighting back, can we? No, no. Just enough to be alive so we can deliver you to the Emperor.”
Naia felt more alert with every moment that passed. Her heart raced. They had to escape. skekSa swept a claw out to knock Gurjin aside, but Amri was suddenly in the way, latching on to her arm. She crowed in pain when his sharp Grottan teeth bit.
“Dratted cave lizard!”
Naia, I don’t know what to do, Gurjin whispered in dreamfast, still holding the light against her wound for as long as he could. Amri could distract the Mariner for only so long, and even now the Ritual Master lumbered forth, twisting his claws around the handle of his wicked scepter.
Naia’s hand drifted to rest against the pulsing membrane of the floor. The only thing she could think to do was pray.
Someone, please. Help us.
skekSa cursed and bashed her claw against the wall. Amri let go, barely avoiding being crushed. He dropped to all fours, but skekZok raised his scepter. Before he brought it down and smashed Amri to pieces, both Skeksis froze as an ugly rumble trembled through the chamber.
“What—Vassa, no—”
The water that pooled in the lower floor of the chamber shivered, cutting short skekSa’s startled curse. Naia gasped. She grabbed hold of Gurjin and reached for Amri.
Their fingers tangled just before the valves opened and water gushed into the chamber. skekSa and skekZok cried out in surprise and then panic as they were all plunged underwater. Naia clung to her brother and Amri, hoping she knew what was coming next. A valve on the far end of the chamber opened, sucking Naia, Amri, and Gurjin into it and leaving the thrashing, submerged Skeksis behind.
This time when she spilled out of the tube and tasted air, it was as crisp and clean as clouds in a blue sky. She wiped the water and slime from her face. Her eyes stung from the light, but it was a welcome burn.
They were outside.
From what Naia could tell, they’d landed near where the creature’s shoulder met its jaw, deposited in the great folds of the behemoth’s scaly neck. Water dripped off the black shell of the behemoth, shining under the midday suns. Where they stood, the Gelfling could see much of the huge creature’s body, from its flat, half-submerged head to its domed shell, peaked with enormous horns and spikes.
Breathing holes flared and closed in rippling sequence along the behemoth’s neck, some belching water and others sucking in air. They must have come out of one when the great beast had flushed the chamber with water.
“What happened?” Amri sputtered. “Why did we— How—”
Gurjin clambered over the mounds of sea-skin to Naia. Her blood still stained his clothes where she’d been dying in his arms. She touched her wound. It was bumpy but closed. She felt woozy, but she could stand. Maybe even run if she had to. He’d done a good job.
“Naia! Are you—are you all right? Why did skekSa’s ship . . .”
Naia touched the beast’s neck, cold and clammy and so ancient, her fingers could fit between the creases of scaly, barnacle-encrusted skin. She had prayed for help. Had someone answered?
“The behemoth. I must have dreamfasted with it. It must have heard me . . .”
“What are we going to do now?” Amri asked. “The others are still inside. And look around us . . .”
They did. Though the sun and fresh air tasted more delicious than Naia could have ever imagined, there was no land to be seen. No mountains of Cera-Na or bluffs of Ha’rar broke the horizon. It was flat in every direction, an unending sphere of ocean silver reflecting the brilliant blue sky. She felt dizzy, but she didn’t know if it was from the view or her injury.
“There’s no way we’re getting away from here without the ship,” Gurjin said. Even with gills, they would be unable to swim the unknown distance to the nearest shore.
“And the ship is locked in the behemoth’s mouth,” Amri added.
The mouth. Naia stared into the dark shadow at the creature’s front, where most of its head was lurking below the surface of the deep water. That was where its jaws were locked together, trapping Onica’s ship and their friends inside among all the debris.
Vassa—if that was the behemoth’s name—groaned. Naia wondered how long it would be before skekSa escaped from the underwater chamber and ordered the ship to submerge again. She pressed her hands against the behemoth’s cool neck, leaning. She could feel its life force under her hand, heavy and cold like a deathly mist, swirling against her fingers.
“Then it’s time to ask politely,” she said.
Naia closed her eyes.
Please, ancient one, she pleaded. Dreamfast with me.
She felt it breathe as she breathed; felt its blood flow as hers flowed. A creature so large
had to be ancient, and Naia wondered how long it had served skekSa. Had it been captured when it was young and small, or had skekSa conquered it as an adult, after it had known freedom? Either song was equally terrible, and Naia’s heart hurt to think of it. All she knew was that the emptiness that faced her now was all that remained of the creature’s spirit.
Every creature on Thra had life essence, from the fliers to the crawlers to the swimmers. Even trees and rocks sang the song of Thra, for they were all born of Thra and carried a piece of that melody within them. When Naia had touched the spirit of the Cradle Tree in the Dark Wood, she had heard its song in pieces. Its song, and the song of everything, thrown out of tune by the corrupted Crystal that was the heart of their world.
With a Gelfling partner who was willing to meet minds, dreamfast was like opening a door and falling into the mind-space of another. But when Naia opened her heart to speak with the behemoth, it was like opening a door into nothingness. She stood at the threshold of her consciousness, seeing only void. An unending darkness, though deep in the impenetrable space she heard a distant, pained moan. A cry of wrath, of anger. Of loneliness.
Vassa moaned, long and loud, the tormented sound vibrating through the entirety of its hard black shell. It was fear, and pain. Naia could feel that much, as she stood again on the threshold of the doorway between their minds. Between their hearts, in the dream-space of their dreamfast.
Peering into the abyss, Naia saw a twinkle. The smallest ember, barely kept glowing. Naia wanted to tend that smoldering light. Protect it and nurture it until it blazed again. This creature was in its own pain. Like every being of Thra, it had a will and a song, and both had been taken prisoner by the Skeksis. If she truly wanted to meet minds, Naia had to set aside her own desperation.
I know you must fear skekSa, she said. I know she must have hurt you for a long time. But you are larger than she is. Stronger. You are a creature of Thra, with a voice of your own. A voice that can sing again, free.
Naia felt dizzy again, her strength waning. She didn’t know how long she had before she lost consciousness. Had Gurjin really taken some of her power in order to heal her?
If you let go of your fear, skekSa will have no power over you. Not now, and not ever again.
The waters shifted. The light grew brighter. Then a cold current hit Naia, chilling her, and she awoke from the dreamfast in a torrent of swirling waves.
Everything shook, water crashing in streams and rivers as the behemoth moved. The ocean churned, bubbles and waves breaking across its surface, and Naia fell to a crouch beside Gurjin and Amri as the body beneath their feet shifted and flexed. Despite her exhaustion, Naia’s face ached with a grin as brackish water spewed forth into the sea.
Vassa was opening its mouth.
“Yes!” cried Amri. “You did it!”
He moved to embrace her but stopped short, glancing at the wound on her forehead. Instead, he gave her a smile so bright, she looked away. Gurjin coughed.
“It wasn’t me,” she murmured. “It was Vassa. Vassa decided this on its own . . .”
“There’s Onica’s boat,” Gurjin called, pointing into the behemoth’s opening maw as it filled with daylight. Far below, floating on the water within, was a little Sifa vessel with purple, blue, and crimson sails. She grabbed hold of Gurjin and Amri with either arm, spread her wings, and leaped.
Burdened with the weight of the two boys, her wings barely broke their descent. The strain sent pain lancing through her shoulder, neck, and then her temple again, and she felt blood on her cheek. As she bled from her reopened wound, the exhaustion and weariness took hold again, and she faltered.
They crashed into the ocean near the ship, but Onica and Kylan had seen them leap from up above. Onica bounded from the ship with rope in hand, and Naia clung to her as she, Kylan, and Tavra pulled them aboard.
The ship rocked violently on the frothing waves. The instant the wind touched the little boat’s sails, they filled with a SNAP, and the boat sped across the waves clear of the behemoth’s hooked jaw. They surfed on a growing wave as Vassa moved, belching water and debris out into the open sea. As they crossed out of the shadows and into the sunlight, Naia barely noticed Amri catching her as she nearly passed out. Barely noticed Gurjin trying to heal her wound again. She didn’t have the strength to tell them she would be fine.
They had escaped.
Vassa let out another deafening roar, but it was like a song to Naia’s ears. Powerful and determined, ancient and revived. Its jaws arched open, large enough to devour an island, and then CRASSSSHED closed in a brilliant spray of blue-green ocean. The ship swung up on the huge waves, spindrift touching the deck and Naia’s cheeks like dew.
“There’s someone out here,” Kylan shouted, pointing off the side of the ship. “Someone swimming in the water—they’re so fast!”
He sounded far away. They all did. Even Amri, who looked down with black eyes full of worry as she slumped in his lap. Distant and quiet, like a dream.
Naia gazed out to sea. Vassa’s bright green eyes as it submerged into the ocean, taking skekSa and skekZok with it. The last thing she saw before she faded was a big, silver-maned creature drenched in seawater, hoisting itself onto the deck with four powerful arms.
CHAPTER 5
Memories flowed like a river from the furthest reaches of her mind. Originating deep in the Swamp of Sog, where she’d been born in the heartwood of Great Smerth. One of two, her mother and father had told her. Destined to follow in Maudra Laesid’s footsteps as maudra of the proud Drenchen clan, while her twin brother would leave the swamp to serve the Skeksis at the Castle of the Crystal. She would learn to heal while he learned to protect with a sword. And she would stay in Sog, while he would leave, to join the other Gelfling on the outside in the great world beyond the swamp.
That had been her dream for so long. To go on an adventure. To see the world and find her place within it. She’d finally been able to pursue that dream. Set a course for it and chase it down, like a star twinkling on the far horizon.
Warmth touched her fingers in the flow of the water, and she saw a stream of red. She remembered her injury from the blunt end of the Ritual Master’s scepter, though the memories were distant. Just out of reach. Gurjin healing her as best he could. The behemoth, Vassa. Then pain and numbness. Darkness.
You can’t.
That was Gurjin’s voice. But was it a memory? It seemed like something he might have said. You can’t. She can’t. It’s not the right time.
Who was he talking to?
It didn’t matter. Not now when she was so calm and peaceful here, on the river. She let the shadows flow through her fingertips, swirling into the gentle waves.
After a long time, she could sense a bank on the shoulder of the river. A place where the waves washed against the shore. A place to wake up. She saw her friends. Kylan and Tavra. Onica and Amri. Gurjin. Waiting for her. How long had she been drifting?
She opened her wings, ready to join them.
Naia woke up in a small cave with four walls of gold and taupe rock, its ceiling reinforced by sun-whitened driftwood. Daylight poured in through the doorway, which was much bigger and rounder than one made for a Gelfling. The ceiling, too, was higher than a Gelfling would need, and decorated with paintings of the stars and their pathways, the three suns and the three moons, and the infinite wisdom shared between them. It reminded her of a hut she had visited once before in the Dark Wood.
“Naia?”
Amri sat beside her, a mortar bowl held between his bare feet and a pestle in his hand, grinding herbs into red and indigo dust. He nearly knocked the bowl over as he leaped up, leaning over her with those big black eyes. She reached out, frowning.
“How long was I out?” she asked. “Your hair . . .”
His pale cheeks flushed as he realized why she was staring. The half of his head that was usually cut s
hort had grown out, a bit shaggy and strange-looking, since it was usually shaved close to the skin.
“A while,” he said, glancing away. “Twelve days.”
“Twelve days!” she exclaimed. She sat up slowly. Nothing hurt, but she could tell her body was heavy from disuse. “Where are we? Is everyone all right?”
“We’re all fine. Gurjin’s been healing you slowly since we arrived.”
Gurjin had never used healing vliyaya before. What had happened? What was it skekSa had said? She touched her forehead. The wound was closed, replaced by new skin.
“Then it’s true. Gurjin really did absorb my powers.”
Naia wasn’t sure what that meant for her. Or for him. For the both of them. Was it something she would reabsorb over time? Or was it permanent? Either way, she couldn’t worry about it now. She had her life because of it. She was in no position to be upset. Whatever had happened was done.
“Yeah. He learned fast, especially with urTih’s help. I guess he had to, without you.”
He hadn’t looked back at her yet, soft pink ears at an angle. An emotion was hovering around him like the scent of a flower, but he wouldn’t bring it to life with words.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“You—” he began, then stopped. Then started again. “You shouldn’t have followed me down that tube. Back in the behemoth. It was really dangerous. You could have died.”
“So could you. That’s why I did it.”
His cheeks turned pink, then red. “You got hurt because of me.”
“I got hurt because of the Skeksis.”
“You jumped in without thinking!”
“I jumped in because I care about you!” she replied hotly. Then it was her turn to blush, and she added in a mutter, “And anyway, I thought about it plenty. I can breathe underwater and you can’t.”