But when she finally broke the surface, its empty light changed nothing.
Lyseira splashed down the beach, hitching up her hem in a futile effort to keep it dry. "Syn?"
Syntal made the shore, quivering. Getting out of the lake didn't matter. The pit still had her.
She thrashed against it like a girl in flames. "That Seth is such a bastard!" she exploded. "I hate him!" Her voice splintered on the last word, which broke and fell to ruin—like everything else on the lake shore.
Lyseira boggled. "What happened?"
What do you think happened, you idiot? My mom and dad are dead! The thought was an arm shooting from the depths, grabbing onto her ankle, tugging her down. She slapped at it, frantic. "There was a book I found! I found it! I dug it up! And he stole it!
"He can't do anything with it! He said there's no words on it and he can't get it open, but I could get it open! He just doesn't want me to get anything because he's an idiot! He can't even read anyway!"
Lyseira looked confused. "But... why would—?"
"How should I know?" Syntal roared. Her rage was fire in the darkness. When it was hot enough, she could forget; it buoyed her to the pit's lip, where she scrabbled for purchase. "How should I know why an idiot does anything? I can't help that he's so stupid!"
Lyseira's face flickered between sympathy and indignation. "Hey! That's not fair."
Syntal glared. "Yeah?" she seethed. "What would you know about it? You can't read either."
"Can too!" Lyseira protested.
"You?" Syn snapped. "You're practically still a baby! You—"
"Hey, Syn!" Angbar called from behind, oblivious. "I brought you some drearmoss."
He looked like a drenched cat as he splashed through the surf, his hair plastered to his skull, nude but for a pair of bedraggled underpants. Several globs of drearmoss hung from his waistband. He was grinning like a fool. The absurd sight would've made her weak with laughter an hour ago.
Now, it was just stupid.
"See?" He offered one of the globs: violet, her favorite color. In the cave it had been lustrous, shimmering with riches. The sun robbed it of its beauty; left it limp and pale.
"Why do I want your stupid drearmoss?" she sneered.
Angbar shrugged. "I just... thought you'd like it. It's not a big deal." He fed the moss to the waves, and they dragged it down.
He sloshed past her and up to Lyseira, already jabbering about everything he'd seen in the cave, waxing reminiscent about the skull that had slipped away on his swim out. Syntal hated him. She hated both of them. Why didn't he ever shut up? Why didn't Lyseira ever take her side? They were all Helix's friends, anyway. Not hers. They'd never be her friends. And now she was stuck with them forever. Because—
She gasped for air, thrashing. That hand had her ankle again, pulling her down.
Helix splashed out of the lake, struggling manfully with the sword. He threw a consoling look at Syntal, but said nothing.
When Seth came up, he didn't have the book.
"Where is the book, Seth?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice level.
Seth shrugged as he waded to shore. He wasn't looking at her. Fury swelled in her breast like an ocean storm.
"Did you leave it in the cave?" she demanded. He shrugged again.
"Seth!" Lyseira cried, affronted. "That's not very nice! If you didn't want it, why didn't you just—?"
Seth whirled on Syntal. "What am I gonna do with a book? I can't read, 'member?" He spat in the mud and grabbed his shirt.
Syntal gaped. He had left it. After all her begging, after Helix had offered to trade...! He knew she'd wanted it, and he'd still left it.
He must think I'm a sissy. Is that what he thinks?
He was staring at her, his expression empty but his body nearly crackling with contempt.
She would be damned if he got the last word on this.
She splashed back into the lake. The others shouted after her. You think I won't go down there alone? The thought was searing. Watch me, you bastard.
The water closed over her, and she was back in the dark.
She shot down to the rock shelf, glided beneath and around it as easily as an otter. Her lungs were just starting to burn as she bobbed into the cave.
She hauled herself, dripping and gasping, onto the ledge. The cave's silence thundered around her, leeching her anger away. As her eyes adjusted to the chamber's dim light, the lumps of shadow pocking the floor slowly coalesced into scattered rock and bone.
The light from the drearmoss was sterile and alien. Crimson was just as cold as violet, both frozen on the wall like a discoloration of the stone. Behind her, water lapped against rock. It sounded like a panting beast: something hunched in its lair, waiting for prey. The bones littering the cave suddenly became the remnants of its last meal.
A sick worm of fear wriggled through her. She fumbled after her earlier rage like a chilled traveler trying to light a campfire, but the wood for that fire was sodden. It wouldn't spark.
There's nothing to be scared of, she told herself. It's just a stupid cave. What kind of baby would go back just because she was alone? She imagined emerging from the surf above, shamefaced and empty-handed, a helpless victim of Seth's persecution.
That is not going to happen.
The tinder sparked. The fire caught. Its heat forced the fear back, and in its light she searched for the book.
She crept deeper into the cave, toward the little pool in the back where she and Seth had fought. She became aware that she was taking shallow breaths, ginger steps—trying to keep quiet even though there was no one to hear. Stupid, she accused herself, but kept doing it. She rounded the bend, saw nothing, and sneaked to the pool she'd found the book in.
It was empty.
The sight of the shallow basin made her suddenly imagine returning to the first pool, ready to leave, only to see that same blank rock wavering beneath the water. She would discover, too late, that the cave was a trap; that the monster in the darkness had sealed off all escapes.
She swallowed thickly and turned away. The drearmoss was dimmer, she suddenly noticed—it had been dimming steadily since she came back. Maybe it's just the bait. Once the prey is here, there's no need for it, and the lights go out.
Once again, fear thrashed in her belly. Again, she reached for the fire of her anger. Where is that curséd book? Did he throw it in the lake? That was a wretched thought. If he had dumped the book, she would never find it. He would have beaten her twice: once when he made her run away crying, and again when he watched her swim back.
The fire leapt and crackled. That sehking bastard!
She darted back around the cave's single bend, her anger finally roaring hot enough to burn up her fear of making noise. She cast about that first, long passage again, furious at the thought of him besting her, willing the book to be there...
And there it was, at the far end of the cave, right next to the first pool. So close, she had gone right past it.
A grim satisfaction seized her. She lumbered into a run, her drenched dress chafing her calves—and her foot exploded with pain.
"Sehk!" she screamed as she tumbled to the stone. She hurled herself around, wincing at the throbbing pain in her toe, and fumbled for whatever had tripped her. "God sehking damn it!"
She scrabbled at the ground like something feral, her rage building toward cataclysm. She burned to find whatever had tripped her and throw it, to watch it shatter on the cave wall, or maybe smash it with another rock. She would crush it for hurting her, she would destroy it, she—
"What—?" It was smaller than she'd thought. Some kind of weird, smooth stone, like an agate, but perfectly rounded. "Curséd thing," she insisted, but her tantrum was fading, eclipsed by curiosity. She ripped a patch of yellow drearmoss from the cave wall and leaned in close, panting with spent anger.
It wasn't a stone at all. It was a simple, black ring, wedged hard into a crack in the ground. It was beautiful in the drearlight, glea
ming with enticements.
She worked her finger underneath it, scraping her nail against the stone. It took several minutes of heaving and cursing to finally drag the thing loose. At last, though, a circle of perfect darkness glimmered between her fingers.
She felt a flush of pride. Because of her tenacity, she'd found a new ring and gotten the book back. Idiot, she thought, picturing Seth standing on the beach and thinking he'd gotten the best of her.
Then she realized how to really get back at him.
The ring kept slipping off her finger, so she popped it in her mouth before grabbing the book and jumping into the pool. When she cleared the rock ledge, she kicked upwards and outwards—away from the others.
She swam below the surface until her chest threatened to implode. When she finally went up for air, she cast about, gasping. She could just make out Angbar and Seth on the shore. They hadn't seen her. She turned, and pushed away.
The book grew heavier with every kick, and each gulping breath threatened to make her swallow the ring. Finally she bobbed to shore and crawled up, her limbs aching. When she dropped the book, it thudded like an anchor. Her arm groaned.
She couldn't see the others anymore. Maybe they'd gone down to the cave, looking for her, or maybe they'd gone back to tell someone she was gone. Through her exhaustion, Syntal felt a surge of vindication. Either way, when Auntie learned that Seth had made her run away, he would be in a whole pot of trouble.
She spat out the ring and hung it loosely on her thumb, but even this small movement made her wince from the pain in her arms. She lay against a tree and let her overworked muscles rest. There's no hurry, she realized. The longer I take to go back, the more trouble Seth'll be in.
She slid her eyes closed, waiting for her muscles to relax. The sun glowed red behind her lids, bathing her with infinite warmth. She let herself sink into it, reminded of winter nights spent curled up on the floor in front of a blazing hearth at home, her parents chatting idly as her mother caressed her hair.
Her eyes jerked open, suddenly brimming with tears. She blinked hard, trying to think of something else. Don't cry. Don't cry. Her father had always told her that crying never changed anything. She could see him now. You have to get up and do it, not cry about it, he always said.
But he'd never said what she was supposed to do if he died.
Her stomach dropped. She reached for that image of him, stern and loving at the same time, and saw the edges fraying to black. Daddy! she called, she screamed, but the picture disintegrated in the rushing darkness of that endless pit. She was falling, and all her rage had been an illusion.
She had never stopped falling at all.
~ ~
She woke, still alone, to a lake shining with streaks of red and orange.
Her head had splintered and been sewn back together; her eyes stung from sobs; her clothes had dried into a chafing shell.
At last, though, the sudden storm of grief had receded. It had scoured her raw and left her empty, but the emptiness was better than the crying. She hated crying.
Climbing to her feet, she groaned in agony: every muscle was exhausted and stiff, especially her right arm, which had been clutching the book as she swam. She had fallen asleep with the arm curled against her in a tight V. Now, when she tried to straighten it, it screamed in pain. She had heard of muscles cramping before, but she had had no idea how much they hurt.
The book, still lying in the nearby grass, may as well have been a mountain. It was all she could do to keep her arm cradled, to keep the pain a distant whisper. The idea of trying to pick the book up was ludicrous. Here, in the silence of the early evening and far away from her anger, it seemed a miracle she had ever lifted the thing to begin with.
She sighed, frustrated, and glared at her crippled arm. In the dying sunlight she caught a glimmer of blackness against her thumb. The ring. She had gotten that, at least.
She barked a joyless laugh. So that was it. All that work, and stubbing her toe, and fighting with Seth and Lyseira and Angbar... for nothing. The rage that had driven her back to the lake's depths had dissipated; if anything, she only felt stupid now for acting like such a child. Her dad would've been disgusted—
No. No, no, no, no....
Syntal backed carefully away from the thought. Something else. Anything else. She tried to straighten her arm. The backlash of pain sizzled her thoughts clean and reduced her to whimpers.
"Syn?"
Her breath caught; she whirled toward the sound and saw Helix.
"Akir, are you well?" He trotted toward her. "The whole village is out looking for you! Are you well?"
"I..." She didn't know what to say. She was fine, of course. Did he say the whole village is looking? "My arm hurts."
He had been about to hug or grab her; the words halted him. "What's wrong? How did you get all the way over here? Mom and Dad are going crazy. What happened to your arm?"
Mom and Dad. He means Uncle Kevric and Auntie Bella. "I... I just..." Sudden fear seized her. What if they find out I wasn't really lost? What if they find out I did it on purpose? Would they even let her stay with them? She had nowhere else to go, if they decided not to keep her. They wouldn't turn her out for being a brat, would they?
What if they do?
"I just went back to get the book." She nodded toward it, still resting in the grass. "I just didn't want to lose it. But when I came up, I... I got turned around..."
"Akir!" Helix swore. "Thank God you're well. Seth was scared you drowned in the lake."
That surprised her. "Seth?" she repeated, numbly.
"Yeah. He's swimming around out there right now, he's almost as crazy as Mom and Dad. He couldn't find the cave, though. He must've dived down a hundred times by now."
Seth was diving, looking for her?
"Come on." Helix took hold of her good arm. "I gotta get you back to Mom and Dad, they're going crazy."
"No!" Syntal pulled away. The thought of their faces, the thought of Seth's face, made her feel like a fraud. Seth will know, she thought, even if Auntie and Uncle don't, Seth will know right away.
"Syn?" Helix's face was tight with confusion. "Come on! They're going crazy," he repeated.
"No, I know, I just..." She looked at him, the cousin she had always thought of like a distant brother, and the words spilled out before she could stop them. "I did it on purpose. I was trying to get Seth in trouble. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but... I swam away on purpose." She wanted to say more, to offer some justification or defiance, but the sudden torrent of words dried up. All she could do was wait for his reproach.
Helix was dumbstruck. "You were hiding?" His mouth worked, but no sound came out.
"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare anyone..." She trailed off. Scaring someone was exactly what she had meant to do.
He stared at her for another instant, then guffawed.
"Oh my God!" he nearly shouted, before quieting his voice and glancing furtively up and down the lake shore. "Syntal, that is brilliant!"
Syntal blinked. You aren't mad?
"Mom and Dad will kill you, though. I mean, pissing on Ellic Baler is one thing..." He gave his old, evil grin. "Rev'naas take that," he said. "All you did was put Seth in his place. I can keep a secret if you can."
Gratitude welled up in her. Are you sure? she felt she should ask, but she was too scared he'd change his mind. "M'sai." He hadn't simply accepted her deviance. He had actually admired it. A timid smile tugged at her lips. "But what are we gonna do?"
Helix surveyed the lake shore again, making sure they were alone. "Well, most everybody is over on the Pinewood side. Me and Seth came over the river, but he's swimming all around the lake right now, looking for you." He winked.
"He won't be able to find the cave, I don't think," Syntal said. "The light from that weird moss was getting darker. I think maybe it doesn't glow at night."
Helix waved her off. "He'll be fine. He can be a stubborn idiot but he won't drown himself or nothing.
"So really all we have to do is go around the lake, and we'll tell everyone the truth—that you got lost coming out of the cave, and got scared and fell asleep, and I found you... what?"
She had started shaking her head. Even with an accomplice, she couldn't face Auntie and Uncle. Not yet. "My arm really hurts. It's messed up from swimming with that stupid book. I want to go home." You'll never be home again, something inside tried to whisper, but she ignored it. "Can't we just go home, and you can tell them I'm safe?"
"I don't know, Syn," he started. "They're really going cr—"
The wild fear in her eyes cut him off. He sighed.
"Yeah. M'sai. Let's go home. You can get to bed. I'll talk to 'em.
"Besides," he added as he grabbed the book, "you know they'd probably take this away if they found it, and bring it up to The Abbot. After all the sehk you went through for it, that don't seem fair to me."
He loved swearing like that, when his parents weren't around. He sounded casual and empowered. She suddenly loved him for it.
Mute, she followed him up the lake shore.
Nightfall had sneaked up on them as they talked, transforming the lake's burnished gleam into an endless expanse of cold glass. They picked their way over the ruined shore, speeding up when the clouds let the moonlight fall, slowing when they crowded it out.
"You really got them, though," Helix marveled. "Seth for sure, I think he felt really bad."
Syntal snorted. "I'm actually surprised. He was being a horse's ass in the cave." She enjoyed the words' mature taste—they were an adult's comment, worlds beyond the tantrum she had thrown earlier. "I honestly didn't think he was even gonna care."
She could hear the grin in Helix's voice. "Well, m'sai. Lyseira was maybe the most upset at first, but you know how she is. She makes you think of things you didn't think of." His voice held a note of rueful admission. "She probably got to him, but he would've felt bad anyway, I think. He was mean, yeah, but he doesn't want you to drown or nothin'. He's still Seth. He's just kind of an ass since..." Helix glanced back at her. "You know."
Children of a Broken Sky (Redemption Chronicle Book 1) Page 29