by Brindi Quinn
Rend was feverish, and she began clawing at Nyte’s chest and shoulders in wild, superstitious panic.
“Evil? Why, excuse you,” said Ardette, visibly offended. “That ‘infant’ happens to be the soul of a Daem.”
“Wha-?” Rend ceased her clawing, but she didn’t turn away from Nyte. He held her still with calm palms and squinted at the baby. After a moment he flinched, and I knew it wasn’t good.
Uh-oh.
“A Daem?” Grotts didn’t look convinced. “What’re ya thinkin’?”
“Exactly as I’ve said. It’s a soul.”
Trib shook her head. “There’s no way, Mr. Ardetto. If that thing is a soul, then why haven’t I ever seen one before? Come on, are they all like babies? Because I’d for sure remember seeing floating babies out here!”
“No, no, no, Trib, sugar,” said Darch. “They aren’t all like babies. But he’s right. Ardetto’s right. That’s a Daem, guys. I’d bet my hair on it!”
“But you don’t have any hair,” mumbled Kantú. She scratched her ear.
Darch winked.
“Fer real?” said Grotts. He still didn’t look convinced. “Well, if anyone would know, it’d be Darch, I suppose, but . . .”
“But why’s it a baby?” asked Trib. “How creepy is that?”
“Because Daem’s are models of innocence, of course.”
“That’s a riot.”
And there was that grin again. Why did I find it so annoying?
Ignoring my impulses, I cleared my throat and asked, “Why is it a baby, Ardette?”
“How should I know? Consider me an expert, do you?”
I sighed. “Darch?”
“Right-o! Nyte, can you hear that? I think – now, I could be wrong about this – but I think the soul is currently transforming into a Feirgh.”
“W-w-what?!” Scardo fell back to his knees.
“Uh-huh, and what I believe is that it’s reverting back into whatever trauma triggered its reluctance to cross the mist. Either that, or it’s purely symbolizing the number one worldly thing it doesn’t want to leave behind.”
“It doesn’t want to leave behind babies?” asked Kantú.
Rend let out a snarl. “More likely a specific baby, you cretin!”
“Oooh! Right!”
“All right, well, what are we going to do?!” I urged. If it really was turning into a Feirgh, then we had to act quickly.
“Kill it before it completes its transformation!” Rend readied her hands in a most determined manner.
“Are you crazy?!” I cried, pouncing at her. “We can’t kill a baby!”
“It is not a real baby, moron!”
“But is it not a real soul, Rend?” argued Nyte. “What do you think would happen if you were to kill a person’s eternal soul?”
“It is simply that of a Daem!”
“It matters not, Cousin! Think about this!”
“Okay, OKAY!” said Trib. “Level two, everybody, please! If it’s a Feirgh, then we’ve got to get out of here now. Ground?”
Everyone else understood that we wouldn’t be able to actually defeat the creature without my song. Thus, everyone nodded in agreement and began moving about the buggy . . . everyone except Ardette, that is.
“No, Trib, it isn’t ground,” he said, mouth cross.
“What?”
Ardette’s knuckles were white. “I said it’s not ground,” he repeated, teeth bared. He turned to Darch. “Can it be saved?”
“Ardetto, I don’t think-”
“CAN IT BE SAVED?” he asked again, this time grabbing onto Darch’s collar and pulling him forward. Aggressively. Brutally. Looking like a true Daem of Druelca.
“I don’t know.”
“Argh!” Ardette dropped Darch and turned to me. “Come along then, sweet cherry.”
With that, he grabbed me around the waist and leaped over the side of the buggy.
“Ardette!? What are you doing?!”
But the cries of the others were much more enraged. Nyte leaped softly out of the buggy after us. “Try to stop me, and I’ll stab you all the way through,” warned Ardette. “I will not hesitate to kill you, should you get in my-”
“I have not followed you to stop you,” said Nyte. “I have followed you to help you.”
Ardette threw him a suspicious glower. “Oh?”
“Yes. We do not stand a chance against a Feirgh if Aura cannot sing. If there is a way to save the soul, I would like to offer assistance. I do not wish to see it perish any more than you do.”
Ardette contemplated a few seconds and then, “Fine! Damned noble Elf. Why must you do things that make it more difficult to loathe you?”
“Wow. I think that just might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said, Ardette. Now, HOW ABOUT YOU PUT ME DOWN?”
“Shhhh.”
I squirmed and kicked, but it was no use.
“Uh. Fine.” I gave up. “At least tell me what we’re doing here, okay?”
“We’re rescuing that baby. Hadn’t you heard?”
“No, what I mean is, how?”
“Ah, ‘how’? Why, don’t you think you should have asked that in the first place? You’re going to sing, of course.”
“WHAT?!” Nyte tore me from Ardette in a matter of seconds.
“Oh, knock it off, would you? I’m not stupid, you know. Trust me.”
“Aura?” Nyte looked to me for approval.
Ardette’s eyes were determined, the red brighter than normal. Like dancing fire.
“All right, Ardette. We’ll trust you.”
“Splendid. Now come on!”
But before we could obey, Nyte stumbled forward, and I nearly fell from his arms. “Ahh!” he cried.
I pushed myself away and jumped down. “Nyte?! What is it? What’s wrong?!”
“L-louder!” he huffed.
“Uh.” Ardette rolled his eyes. “As I thought. In the end, you were useless! Come along, my angel. We’ll have to do this alone, I suppose.”
“Wait!” I growled. There was no way I was leaving him there like that!
“Tsk. Tsk. If you’d like to save his ears, wouldn’t it be best to concentrate on the task at hand?”
Ardette was right, of course. I knew it and I hated to admit it, but there was so much urgency in the air that I had no choice.
“Sorry, Nyte.”
But when I turned to him, the Elf was already back on his feet.
“Nyte?! Don’t you think you should-”
“NO. I will assist you until I can no longer offer aid.”
Ardette was annoyed, but there was also a speckle of surprise there. “Ugh! Fine! But come!”
Thus, we ran after Ardette to the baby, cloaks fluttering in the mistless realm. Behind us, the others were calling shouts of reprimand, and Rend and Grotts had even begun climbing down the side of the buggy after us, but Darch offered a voice of reason to aid in our plight.
“Wait, guys! Just wait and watch! Please, please, please! Come on now! Grotts, keep Rend here!”
Scardo didn’t like that idea, and he heavily voiced his misgivings, but even so, Darch managed to keep them back somehow. I say somehow, but I suspect that circling pinky might have come into play.
After several more strides, Nyte, Ardette and I came to the place where the baby hovered bobbing up and down in its stream of smoke. Right away, I noticed that the shadow possessed the same smell as the shadow in the dragon’s tomb. The same taste and feeling as Ardette. Something had changed, though, since we’d first seen it. White mist from beyond the clearing had started to collect around the baby’s smoky womb, slowly solidifying into long limbs.
The transformation was underway.
“Come now, cherry. We have little time!” Ardette was frantic.
Again, Nyte was starting to double over. This only served to throw me into an unsightly panic.
“What should I do? I can’t really sing, can I? Won’t Lusafael hear?!”
What was more, it was al
l I could do not to abandon Ardette and run to Nyte’s side.
Ardette yanked me to him and proceeded to drill those determined eyes into mine. “Sing in your head, would you? I’ll convey it to the soul. But whatever you do, don’t let any words escape you, got it?”
“But what kind of song am I supposed to sing? Will healing help this?”
Ardette shook his head. “That, my pit, is up to you.”
“UGH! I was afraid you’d say something like that! Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to-”
But that shadow was already inside of my head – cool and foggy and smothering – and Ardette’s other hand was mixing with the baby’s shadow.
“Do you see it?” he asked, jaw stern.
“See what?”
“Close your eyes!”
I did as he said, and there, images started flooding my fogging head:
A stone village. The coast. A merchant. A baby. A mother. Not just a mother. A beautiful mother with red eyes and flowing black hair and two long horns, and she was dressed in yellow.
And then the mother was lost? And she was walking toward a fortress. A giant fortress with spinning gears and lifts.
Druelca.
The mother was there. And it was raining. She wasn’t lost. She was asking for something. No, someone. A guard? The father. Her baby’s father. She was frantic. The baby was sick. The baby needed his father’s shadow! The father was packing. They were going to leave together.
But then there was a blast of white. Pure, pristine, blinding white.
Lusafael.
And that was all; there was nothing left.
I didn’t know the details, but I knew the song. I knew what I had to do, so I started.
Falling years mean babe’s grown old. Something fighting wings unload.
Turning yonder, next to road.
Af-ter fall.
Happenstance or happenchance, means naught for happen’s last.
In the time of field’s new flower.
Af-ter fall
And though there be, naught next to thee . . .
Within the smoke, the baby twisted. It turned this way and that and stretched back. Inside of my head, I could hear it crying. A woman’s cry. A mother’s cry. Still, I continued to sing the song I’d just learned.
Behind me, Nyte was on the ground holding his ears and rolling from side to side, but Ardette was straight and calm and breathing evenly.
The mother’s crying got louder and louder, until there was nothing I could do but bend forward and rest my hands on my knees. Ardette continued to stand there, breathing, until at long last, the crying ceased in one final long wail. When it faded, I looked up, and the baby had stopped wriggling. Instead, it was . . . dissipating. The baby was see-through? No, it was gone. Just like that, it was gone, and all that was left was a ray of shadow.
The condensed misty limbs broke away and drifted back out into the surrounding air. Soon, the blackness of the soul faded back to white and joined its fellow mist.
It was all over too quickly – much too quickly for me to process. Ardette pulled himself from me and fell to his knees. Almost immediately, Nyte was back up.
“Are you all right, Aura? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, still staring at the place where the baby had been. It now seemed like an illusion or something. A trick of the mist.
“You have done it?”
The endeavor had left a painful feeling in the pit of my stomach, somewhere behind my belly button. “Let’s just get back to the buggy, okay?” I said.
The clearing was quickly turning back into misty blanket.
“Ah! You are right! Let us go now!”
“We don’t have time for me to feed him.” I gestured to Ardette’s exhausted form. “Can you carry him?”
“Must I?” But Nyte was already hoisting the Daem into his arms. “Ugh! He is like a boulder!”
How weird it was to see Nyte struggling with something. But I didn’t laugh or give it a second thought. We had to get out of there before the mist encompassed us completely.
I hurried ahead of them in the direction of the boat. The others, of course, were calling to us, but I refrained from answering any of their questions. I’d concentrate all energy on helping Nyte get Ardette into the buggy. That was the plan anyway, but it was immediately apparent that my efforts would be of no use. The rest of Ardette was just as heavy as his head, and I was way too puny to be of any real help.
“Assist me with him, Cousin!” barked Nyte. “He is heavy. What has he been consuming?!”
“No kidding,” I said, pushing up on the Daem’s shoulders but getting nowhere.
Rend grabbed the upper half of Ardette not at all gently, and together the pair of cousins threw him into the boat. Nyte turned to me next and easily scooped me up and handed me to Grotts. The great man lifted me up at the armpits like a child picking up a tomcat. It was unflattering, I’m sure, and I hurried to let myself down.
Nyte took a small running start and sprang in behind us.
“Yo-ho! You did it!” Trib came over and punched the limber Elf in the arm.
“Should we not get moving?” He scanned the wafting mist. “It is unsafe to stay in this position for too long.”
“You’re right about that! Ahoy, Nyte, ahoy!”
With that, Trib returned to her post, gave the wings a good elbowing and launched the buggy once more. It obediently lifted into the air and started a slow acceleration.
“Alrigh’,” said Grotts. “How ‘bout explainin’ what the heck happened.”
“Yes, Miss Heart. Please. That was quite an act of . . . well, I don’t know. But just please don’t do it again!”
Kantú joined in, “Aura, is that baby okay? Is it a Feirgh now, or what?”
They all crowded in expectantly, but in the end, I didn’t have to give a recap. I was saved, so to speak, and I was glad for it too.
“Help Ardetto, could you, Aura?” said Darch, pushing me away. Then he proceeded to explain to the others what had just happened. “Calm down, guys. The soul was saved . . .”
Thanks, Darch.
Nyte and Rend dragged Ardette to one of the buggy’s side benches and propped him against it.
“Thanks.” I automatically reached for Ardette’s horn.
“Wait!” Nyte clasped my wrist. “Is there not someone else who can do this?”
But I want to.
But Nyte was right. Why add unnecessary intimacy into our already twisted relationship?
But I want to be the one to help him.
Luckily, I wasn’t made to explain myself. Just then, a nearly unconscious Ardette grabbed my hovering hand and pulled it to his right horn. My hand turned cold, and I was glad because it meant that Ardette was drawing from my spirit – replenishing himself. It meant that he was going to be okay, and that it was my doing that had made it happen.
More selfishness. That’s all it was.
After a while, I could tell that Ardette was fine because my hand was no longer cold. Yet he kept his eyes closed and left my hand there and pretended to be ailing. I let it slide. After all, he’d just risked everything to save that one soul. That was something commendable. Nyte and Rend were conversing softly nearby, so I didn’t feel as guilty as I would have – had their eyes still been upon us.
Can you hear me?
Ardette didn’t say anything.
You didn’t leave anything behind this time?
Still, Ardette said nothing, and for some stupid reason, I was a little disappointed.
My hand was on his horn, and his hand was over mine, and I pretended not to notice that he was okay. In fact, had it not been for Darch’s pained sapphire eyes watching us, I might not have let go for the remainder of the day. But thankfully, Darch’s eyes were there, and they delivered the guilt that I needed to get beyond this. To get past this moment.
Still locked on his, I pulled my hand away. Ardette put up a small, silent fight.
“I’m sorry,”
I whispered. “But I’ve made my choice. I can’t. You know I can’t, so this just makes it worse.”
It didn’t matter to him. He held tight. Stubborn. I could imagine him saying something like, ‘My, my, my cherry, you’ll come around someday.’ But he didn’t say a word.
I tugged again. At last he opened his eyes, sat up, and let out a creaking groan.
Finally free, I stared at my hand, feeling dirty, and one thought crossed my mind:
What in Farellah am I going to do?
“I wish I knew,” he said. “I wish I knew.”
You and me both.
~
“I don’t get it.”
“Well, that is hardly a surprise,” said Rend. “Do you ever?”
I ignored her.
“Here’s what I’m struggling with.”
“Oh boy.” Ardette pulled at his shirt uncomfortably. Or maybe he was trying to look ‘desirable’.
“I was going for ‘tortured’, actually.”
He, too, I ignored.
“Obviously,” I said, “the Daem’s soul wasn’t the thing marked on the map. But that leaves a question. What is that thing on the map, and how is it that we happened to find a transforming spirit at that exact location?”
“I would not be so sure about ‘exactness’ when it comes to the mist,” said Nyte. “Although we have tirelessly studied the surrounding territory, neither Scardo nor I can be certain of our exact whereabouts.”
“Yeah, but she seems to know what’s going on.” I tipped my head at Trib, who was at the back of the buggy manning the strings that kept the contraption afloat. I wasn’t sure how each pull made the wings continue to flap, but I was beginning to think that the boat was quite a bit more magical than Trib had initially let on.
“Does she have a map?”
“That is-” Scardo started to say something, but after thinking about it, swallowed whatever it was and said instead, “You know, I’m really not sure.”
The look in Rend’s eyes alerted me to a coming danger even before she opened her mouth. When her lips did open, she held nothing back.
“WHY, PRAY TELL, WOULD YOU REFRAIN FROM ASKING SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! ARE YOU NOT OUR NAVIGATOR!? AND YOU, COUSIN, HAD YOU NOT THOUGHT TO INQUIRE?!”