The Deepest Blue

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Mayara didn’t like the sound of that cough. It sounded as if it were scraping her throat. She knew another kind of seaweed that would help with that. But again, that all depended on whether or not she’d be able to forage without being caught by a spirit. “Did your tutors in the Neran Stronghold teach you what to do with cuts like that? I’ve sliced myself plenty of times on dives. I can fix you.” Maybe. Hopefully.

  “Well, I’m obviously not going to say no. Just let it be known that I was planning to be self-sacrificing and noble, and we’ll leave it at that.” Roe’s smile was closer to a grimace, but Mayara accepted it. She already felt better just being with Roe.

  “Come on,” Mayara said. “Let’s get closer to the water.” Bracing herself, she let Roe lean on her to push herself up. “I’ll help you walk. You watch for spirits.”

  “And what’s our plan if one comes?”

  “No idea,” Mayara said. “Play dead?”

  They hobbled together out of the rock formation. It was just barely morning, with the dawn light bathing everything in a cheerful glow, as if the island wasn’t a terrifying death trap. On a morning like this back home, Mayara would be leaping out of bed to race down to the docks to see the fishers off. Or she’d be preparing for a dive, plotting out the prettiest cliffs to leap off before she gathered the abalone below the waves. She liked mornings at home. A fresh day was full of possibility and adventure.

  Here, she was less fond of morning.

  It was going to be a lot easier for spirits to spot them.

  “We need to find a cave,” Mayara said. “Judging from what I saw from the ship, there should be a lot of them.”

  “Probably all occupied by spirits. My plan was to stay on the move. Don’t establish any patterns that the spirits can latch onto and use my power to distract them. In some of the books I’ve read—” She cut herself off. “Above.”

  Mayara didn’t hesitate and didn’t look up—she simply reacted. Yanking Roe forward, she flattened them both against the trunk of a suka tree. Its thick leaves were a canopy above them, she hoped shielding them from view.

  She felt a trio of spirits fly overhead: one was air, one was water, and one was ice.

  She kept her thoughts as quiet as possible by thinking of an abalone shell. In her mind, she traced the swirls of color.

  White . . .

  Pink . . .

  Green . . .

  Purple . . .

  It worked.

  When the spirits were gone, Mayara and Roe continued. Mayara heard the rhythmic crash of waves grow louder. She felt calmer as they drew closer, whereas Roe seemed to be more and more anxious.

  “My grandfather didn’t want anyone to teach me to swim, but I didn’t want to learn either,” Roe said, out of the blue. “I hate the idea of all that water beneath me. I mean, not the water itself so much, but all the things in the water that you can’t see.”

  “Then open your eyes.”

  “But that stings.”

  “You get used to it,” Mayara said. “And a little stinging is better than being blind.” She shook her head. “I can’t remember not swimming. I think my mother taught me while I was in the womb. She said I could swim before I could walk. Why didn’t your grandfather want you to learn?”

  “Scared for me, I guess. He thought . . . There are more spirits in the sea, and he thought if I was exposed to them, I’d manifest an affinity for spirits and be taken away like my mother was. He didn’t want to lose me too.”

  “Your mother died on the island?”

  “Oh no, she didn’t die,” Roe said grimly. “Worse.”

  “What’s worse?”

  “She became queen.”

  Mayara stopped walking. She stared at her friend.

  Roe gave her a weak smile. “Yes, it’s a secret. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but really who are you going to tell? The spirits? I haven’t seen her since she was crowned. Our whole family was taken to the Neran Stronghold. For our protection, they said. And for hers.”

  “Your mother sent her own daughter here?” Mayara thought of her parents and how they’d mourned Elorna and were undoubtedly mourning their younger daughter too. If they’d had the power to stop this and end the tests . . .

  “She doesn’t know I’m here,” Roe said. “How would she? She isn’t allowed any contact with us.” She said it so matter-of-factly, but it had to have torn her up inside to be without her mother for so many years.

  Mayara knew how badly it hurt when her own mother had withdrawn after Elorna’s death. Families on the islands were supposed to be close, with everyone staying in everyone else’s business even after you were grown up and on your own. You weren’t supposed to lose such a vital piece of your family. When Elorna was ripped away, it nearly destroyed us. “Did you ever try to contact her?”

  Roe laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Only a thousand times. And failed a thousand times. That’s why I’m here. If I can become an heir, I’ll be with her again.”

  The words hit Mayara hard, because what Roe was really saying was that she was willing to risk death just to be able to talk to her mother again.

  Quietly she asked, “Did your mother ever try to contact you?”

  “Just once. And the Families had my father taken away in retaliation. So far as I know, she never tried again.” At this, a hint of bitterness crept into her voice. Roe wasn’t as unruffled as she seemed. And . . . They took Roe’s father? Does she mean “killed”? No one had ever mentioned Queen Asana having a husband. Or a daughter, for that matter. Maybe he still lives, somewhere. “Do you know where they took him?”

  Roe shook her head. “When I’m reunited with my mother, we’ll find him. And then we can all be together again.” She spoke with so much fierceness and sorrow that she sounded far older than she was.

  Mayara wished she’d called Lord Maarte worse things than vile for separating Roe from both her parents and forcing her to grow up too fast. She shouldn’t have to face Akena Island just to be with her family. And neither should I.

  But there wasn’t any time to discuss it further—they’d reached the shore.

  “Uh, Mayara, there are a lot of spirits out there.”

  “Under the water or on the surface?” Mayara sent her own mind probing outward. She had to slow to do it—unlike Roe, she couldn’t walk over uneven rocks and pay attention to distant spirits at the same time. Roe had either practiced more or was naturally stronger than she was. Either way, Mayara was glad to have her with her.

  “Mostly under . . . Actually mostly under the islands. Or . . . within? Can you feel that?”

  Mayara sent her mind directly beneath them, through the rocks and into the island itself, and she felt spirits moving through the island. “Earth spirits?” But that didn’t seem right. She didn’t get the sense that they were tunneling. “Odd.”

  So much about this island was odd.

  Ahead was the shore. As they came out from between the rocks and coconut trees, banana trees, and suka trees, they saw the ocean spread before them, turquoise blue, with clear blue sky above and distant purple-blue islands on the horizon.

  Mayara made her way quickly to the water’s edge. Roe followed more slowly. “You can wait here if you want,” Mayara told her. “I’ll look for a cave. . . .” There were cliffs on either side of the tiny stretch of shore. Perfect for caves.

  “Yeah, not staying behind. That’s how I get eaten.” Joining Mayara, she eyed the water with obvious dislike. “Maybe we’d be safer in the trees?”

  “You were trapped by vines,” Mayara pointed out.

  As she’d hoped, the cliffs were riddled with holes. One of them has to work. It needed to be accessible, ideally with a sheltered route they could take to the shore so the spirits wouldn’t see them coming in and out. . . .

  She spotted one. Perfect.

  “That one will do.” She began to climb toward it. It wasn’t far. Just above the high-water mark, it was a shadow about half her height and twice her w
idth—they’d have to crawl inside. From here, she didn’t know how large it was. For all she could tell, it was a divot. Or it could be just right for two spirit sisters to hide for a month. She wouldn’t know until she looked—

  “Mayara!” Roe cried.

  She sensed the spirit at the same time as she heard Roe’s warning cry. Midreach, she froze as a spirit shot out of the cave she was aiming for. It was translucent, as if it were made of glass, and shaped like a bird with talons that were as long as its body.

  Don’t see me.

  Again, the command slipped out of her before she could stop it. She saw the glass bird wobble in the air, but then it kept flying straight out over the sea. She scrambled up the rest of the rocks into the cave.

  It hadn’t looked back. But it had to have felt her thoughts. She saw it react. Did that mean it would return? Or that it would tell others?

  Crawling into the cave, she strained to see. She sent her mind probing ahead into the darkness, looking for more spirits. She didn’t feel any, though she knew she wasn’t as good at sensing them as Roe. She inched farther inside. After the entrance, the cave widened enough that she could sit up.

  Did the glass spirit live here?

  She heard rocks tumble against each other outside and froze again. But it was Roe, hauling herself up the rocks to join her. Enough light sneaked in through the opening of the cave that Mayara could see her expression. She looked halfway between amused and exasperated. “So you see a spirit fly out of a hole and decide that’s where you want to be?”

  “We’ll be out of sight.”

  “Until the spirit comes back.”

  “If it does . . . we kill it.” It was a lousy plan, light on details, but it was better than no plan. Inside the cave, they couldn’t be surprised. Unless an earth spirit comes through the rock . . . Or collapses the rock on top of us . . . Or . . .

  Stop it, she told herself. This was the best she could do right now. Maybe it wasn’t going to be their permanent home, but Roe needed a place to hide while Mayara found the angel seaweed and other essential supplies.

  Roe crawled farther into the cave and collapsed against the side. She winced as she positioned her leg in front of her. “Home, sweet home.”

  “It’s above the high-water mark.” Mayara defended it. She missed Roe’s optimism. She supposed it had drowned in the cove. Or bled out of her leg.

  “Until sea spirits create an extra-high wave just for us.” Then Roe sighed. “Sorry, Mayara. We’re not dead yet, so I guess that means we aren’t making terrible decisions. Maybe your idea to hide is a good one. Certainly, I haven’t done a great job in fighting them.”

  She hoped Roe was right. “I’m going to find plants to help with your cuts.” She cast around, looking for a chunk of rock. She found one about fist size and handed it to Roe. “If that spirit comes back, bash it. Don’t use your power—that won’t kill it and using a command risks drawing others. If you hit it fast enough, it won’t have time to call for help.” She didn’t mention that she’d already used her power once. She hoped it was such a minor use that other spirits didn’t notice. Besides, she’d touched the mind of the spirit while she was outside the cave. With luck, no spirit would look inside. Roe should be safe enough. “I’ll return soon.”

  “You sure you should go out there again?”

  Enough light filtered in through the opening that she could see how ashen Roe’s face looked. She was holding her side, and every breath looked like it hurt her. She wore a permanent wince. “No.” But she was doing it anyway. Like she’d dived into narrow pools of water. “Keep that rock handy. Just don’t bash me when I come back.”

  “Good advice. And if you don’t come back?”

  Mayara tried to sound braver than she felt. “Then you’ll have outswum me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Every second on the shore felt like tempting death. Mayara thought of Elorna’s favorite saying: “Death can’t catch you if you chase it.”

  I still think that doesn’t make sense.

  She was grateful for the thought and effort that Kelo had put into the outfit he’d made for her—it was water-resistant for swimming and tear-resistant for climbing. And he’d designed it to double as a makeshift carrier. She felt a breath-stealing pang when she thought of Kelo and firmly pushed the feeling away. I can’t afford to be distracted. Loosening the wrap, she created a sling from her shoulder to hip using the excess fabric. As she foraged on the rocks, she filled it as quickly as she could with everything useful she could find: angel seaweed (yes!), kelp (edible), winged kelp (also edible), bubble weed (barely edible). She found a sharp rock and used it to pry mussels and sea snails off rocks. She also found a few berries, though she wasn’t certain whether they were edible. She harvested them anyway.

  When she’d gathered all that she quickly could, she knotted the sling closed and began climbing back over the rocky shore toward the cave where Roe was hiding.

  Shelter, freshwater, and food, she thought. They had shelter, food, and medicine, in the form of the angel seaweed. On her next trip out, she’d venture off the shore and search for a freshwater stream. She thought she’d seen some probable areas up near the suka trees—they usually grew near water.

  Of course, I’ll need a way to transport the water. And it would be better if they could boil it, but starting a fire would be too much of a risk, not to mention tricky inside their damp-from-the-sea cave. Maybe it would be safer to harvest ripe coconuts, except that would require climbing a coconut tree, which would leave her exposed.

  While she was thinking about all the practical details of preparing to survive, she wasn’t worrying as much about the spirits, which was a welcome change. It was the first time on the island when she hadn’t felt gripped by terror.

  It’s because I’m not alone, she thought. With someone else to worry over and care about and do things for, she was able to think clearly again. And feel hope.

  “Roe? It’s me,” she whisper-called up to the cave. She’d marked the opening with a smear of suka berry juice—to a spirit, it would look like a bird had shat on the rocks.

  Still hidden, Roe cheered, “Hurray! You aren’t dead!”

  Mayara grinned and began to climb up toward the cave.

  “But you need to hurry—the spirit’s coming back!”

  Twisting to look behind her, Mayara saw the glass bird diving toward her from the cloudless sky. She felt as if her heart ceased to function. Then her brain sped up. “Roe, be ready with the rock, but stay out of sight. Wait for my signal.”

  Keeping her back to the spirit, she continued to climb toward the cave. Only a few more feet . . . Almost here . . . She held her own thoughts tight inside her head, concentrating on the feel of the seaweed-slick rocks.

  She reached the cave opening just as the glass bird reached her, and then she flopped to the side, shouting, “Now, Roe!”

  Lunging out of the cave, Roe brought the rock down hard on the glass bird. Focused on Mayara, the spirit never saw her. The rock hit its head.

  The glass cracked.

  Mayara flung herself on top of the spirit.

  Using the sharp rock she’d found for prying mussels off rocks, she stabbed hard and fast at its slender neck until it broke. Roe joined her, pounding on the spirit’s body with her larger rock until the spirit shattered into pieces.

  Panting, they looked at each other. Mayara felt a giddy smile pull at her lips. They’d done it! They’d defeated a spirit! And they’d done it fast—she didn’t think the spirit had had time to call for help. At least, she didn’t feel any other spirits coming to its aid.

  “Yay, us,” Roe said weakly.

  And then she fainted.

  “Roe!” Mayara grabbed her as she tipped forward out of the mouth of the cave. Shoving her, she shifted Roe back inside and then laid her against the wall. “Roe, are you all right?”

  She was breathing, right? Yes, she was. Mayara felt for a pulse in her neck.

  Roe moaned
.

  “I’ve got medicine. Hold on.” Untying her sling, Mayara dumped everything she’d gathered on the floor of the cave. She rooted through it until she found the angel seaweed.

  Angel seaweed was a leafy plant that held copious amounts of water inside its plump leaves. It also had a kind of healing property to it—Mayara wasn’t clear what made it good for warding off infections, but she knew from personal experience that it worked wonders. She squeezed the leaves and the vitamin-rich liquid dribbled out.

  Roe’s eyes snapped open the instant the first drops hit the gash on her calf. She yelped.

  “Just relax. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re safe. Sort of safe. Momentarily safe.”

  Roe hissed as more medicine hit her wound but didn’t flinch away. “What . . . happened?”

  “You fainted.”

  “Impossible. I never faint.”

  “You briefly lost consciousness because of incredible pain,” Mayara clarified. She kept squeezing the angel seaweed over the wound, washing out the grit and soaking the cut in medicine at the same time. She then pressed the hunk of seaweed directly onto the gash. “Hold that there.”

  “The spirit . . .”

  “It’s dead,” Mayara confirmed.

  “We have to hide the . . . body. Is it a body if it’s glass? We have to hide the evidence, or other spirits will see it and know someone’s here.”

  She was right. “Keep pressing the seaweed to the wound. I’ll be back.”

  Poking her head out of the cave, Mayara looked in all directions. She took a deep breath, centered herself, and sent her thoughts out, combing the nearby sea and sky. No immediate spirits, though there were plenty not far from them, both in the water and among the trees. The shore was temporarily clear.

  Using her wrap-dress carrier again, Mayara quickly gathered up all the shards of the dead spirit. They’d been lucky this one was so easy to defeat. Most weren’t. If it had been larger or one of the spirits made of water or rock or fire . . . We were lucky.

  We can’t count on luck to get us through a month. Or even a week.

  But I don’t want to count on power either.