The Deepest Blue

by Sarah Beth Durst

  The Silent One struggled to break free.

  Let’s see who’s the deep diver now, Mayara thought. She held the Silent One down, silently urging her friends to hurry. She hoped they had the sense to go without her.

  She felt the Silent One begin to slow. I won’t kill her. Just let her lose consciousness and then . . . She could deposit her on one of the outer islands and escape before she woke.

  But the Silent One didn’t black out.

  Instead, spirits came: three of them, from the island.

  She felt them inside her head, as if they were clawing the inside of her skull. Mayara released the Silent One and swam to the surface. She popped up and sucked in air and saw three dolphin-shaped spirits aimed toward her.

  Pivoting, Mayara looked for her friends.

  Just beyond the reef, where she knew they were, a storm had sprung up. The sky was blue on either side of it, so she knew it wasn’t a natural storm, even without feeling the swirl of wild spirits within it. She glanced back.

  The Silent One had risen out of the water, on top of a tortoise-shaped spirit.

  Mayara wondered if she could pit her strength against a trained Silent One. There’s only one of her. So far. She reached out to spirits of her own. She’d avoided trying to control them, but now she didn’t have a choice. . . .

  “Mayara.”

  The Silent One had said her name. Out loud.

  Mayara stopped. She pulled her thoughts back, treading water. The three dolphin spirits didn’t attack. Instead, they circled around her as if corralling her. “You spoke.”

  The Silent One glanced right and left. And then she removed her mask.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I held my breath too long.

  I’m dead.

  Because there was no way she could be seeing what she was seeing.

  Mayara stared at her sister’s face, a little older, a little paler. Her eyes were sunken, as if she hadn’t slept in days. She wasn’t sure if she whispered or shouted when she said, “Elorna?”

  It couldn’t be.

  She felt a lurch beneath her, and suddenly, she was sprawled on a rock. Not a rock. A spirit, with a shell like a turtle, buoyed her in the water. It was a match for the spirit that held her sister.

  If it was her sister.

  “Don’t be afraid, little minnow,” Elorna said.

  Her voice cracked and wavered, as if her throat had been sanded raw. Or, Mayara thought, as if she hasn’t spoken in years. Beneath the crackling, though, it sounded like Elorna. Or Mayara thought it did. She’d had so many imaginary conversations with her lost sister in her head that this wasn’t proof of anything. “You’re dead. Am I dead?”

  Elorna grinned, and it felt like a wave hitting Mayara. Her grin was the same. Mayara’s memory had conjured up that grin a thousand times, but she’d never imagined it creasing the face of this older Elorna, dressed like a Silent One.

  “We don’t have much t-time,” Elorna said. Her voice broke. She swallowed, then continued on, stronger. “My silent sisters will notice I’m not fighting beside them. They’ll wonder why I’m on this side of the island. C-clever to send the spirits against us. It’s been done, of course, so we knew to expect it, but how did you reach the other side of the island so quickly?”

  “You died on the island,” Mayara said, still not able to process what was happening. “We mourned you.” For years. And she wasn’t . . . And she didn’t . . . “Elorna.”

  “I chose to become a Silent One. I knew . . .” Her voice seemed to fail, and she continued in a rough whisper. “I knew you’d be disappointed in me. I asked them to lie for me, so you wouldn’t be ashamed. I knew you’d lose me either way. And I’d lose you. I’m deeply, truly sorry.”

  Mayara felt as if a whirlpool had formed inside her. Joy. Anger. They swirled around each other so fast that she had no idea what she felt or what to say.

  “Go back to the island,” Elorna said. “I’ll help you survive, as best I can. If you’re careful, you’ll be able to make it the full month. And then you’ll be safe.” With every word she spoke, her voice was stronger.

  “I can’t abandon my friends.”

  “If you leave, you’ll be on the run forever, until they catch you and they execute you. It’s treason to abandon the test.”

  “And it’s treason for a Silent One to speak,” Mayara replied.

  “That’s why we have to talk fast. Go back, Mayara. Don’t do this. It’s not your destiny. You’re supposed to survive the island, become an heir, and keep our family, your Kelo, and all of Belene safe.”

  Kelo! “He’s alive? Truly?” She had hoped, even believed, it was true, but Lord Maarte had proven himself a liar and even he didn’t know for certain. She’d been relying on pure faith.

  “Yes. I stopped the spirits. That much I could do for you.”

  Kelo lives!

  And my sister . . .

  “That was you, on the cliff? You were there?” She’d never imagined, when she looked at those masks, that she’d been looking at her sister. Elorna hadn’t given any sign, any hint, any hope—

  “I was there with you,” her sister said. “And I’ve been here watching. Mayara, you can do this! You’ve always been the strong one, the brave one.”

  I’m not the brave one, though. That had always been Elorna, chasing after death. Mayara had merely tried—and failed—to live up to her, to fill the void she’d left. “I’m not a hero.”

  “You are,” Elorna said. “I could see it in you, even when we were little. You were afraid and you’d do it anyway. I wanted to be more like you, my fearless little sister. I wanted you to be proud of me. But in the end, I failed you. You, though . . . you have a chance to do what I couldn’t do!”

  “I don’t want to live the life you should have lived,” Mayara said. As she said it, she realized it was true. She’d tried that, for far too long. Now she just wanted this to end. She wanted to be back with Kelo, home in her village. That was a big enough world for her. She was making a third choice—not heir or Silent One, and not hero or dead.

  “Mayara . . .”

  “We won’t be running forever,” Mayara said. “We’re taking Roe to the queen in Yena. She’s Queen Asana’s daughter. Once they’re reunited, Roe will convince her mother to end the test. Women with power will be safe.”

  That startled Elorna. “Her daughter! But how . . .”

  “She was taken from her mother when Queen Asana was crowned. She’s been held against her will by the Families to ensure Queen Asana obeys them. That’s why the Families have so much power. That’s why they’re the ones who say where the heirs are sent and how the Silent Ones are used. If we can reunite Roe and her mother . . . it will reveal the truth. The queen will be able to take power away from the Families, end the test, and pardon us all. Maybe you could even come home.” Mayara didn’t dare blink out of fear that Elorna would vanish. This had to be a dream, a hallucination before she died from lack of oxygen. She’d imagined Elorna before. “Please, come home.”

  “Mayara . . .” Her voice was full of wonder, and then she abruptly straightened. “They’re coming.”

  Mayara saw Elorna’s face harden—it was a familiar expression, the look she got when she’d made a decision. Kelo had once told Mayara that her face looked the same, just before she was about to do something reckless.

  “Listen to me, Mayara. The queen isn’t in Yena. She’s on a formal visit to the Neran Stronghold. If your friends go to Yena, they’ll be caught, and they’ll fail.”

  “Then even more reason you have to let me go! Let me warn my friends.”

  “You really think Queen Asana will change the world for her daughter?”

  “I do. There’s a lot we’d do for the ones we love.” For Kelo, Mayara thought. For you. She’d changed herself for Elorna’s memory, risking herself in dives to feel the kind of wild joy that Elorna had shown her. And she was risking herself now for Kelo, for the chance of returning to him and reclaiming the li
fe she’d planned.

  “Then go,” Elorna said. She placed the mask back on her face. “I will delay my sisters.”

  “I’m your sister.”

  “Always,” Elorna said, and then she turned and rode the spirit back toward the shore. Mayara dived off the back of her spirit and swam beyond the reef into the storm.

  THE SPIRIT STORM WAS CENTERED AROUND ROE.

  Mayara felt it whirl and twist. Water rose in giant hands and then slapped down, creating twelve-foot swells that slammed into each other and erupted like geysers. And her friends were at the heart of it.

  Rain was falling so hard that she felt as if she were underwater. The waves churned the sea so that it was all white foam. Dozens of wild spirits were both beneath and above her. Focusing on swimming, she kept her thoughts close to herself. Don’t notice me. Not that she had much to fear at the moment—all their attention was focused on the heart of the storm.

  At the center was Roe, standing on the back of a whalelike spirit. Her arms were spread wide and her eyes were closed. Palia was huddled at her feet on the whale’s back. She was snarling at the waves and flinging spirits away with her mind.

  Reaching them, Mayara climbed onto the slick back of the wild whale spirit. Its skin was shimmering black, as if it had absorbed the night sky, and its eyes were blue flame. “Roe! Palia!”

  “Thank the Great Mother, you made it!” Palia cried. “We thought you were dead!”

  “Can you stop the storm?” Mayara shouted to Roe over the howls of the wind and the crash of the waves. Beneath her, she felt the whale’s thoughts, sluggish and dark. They were an itch it wanted to be rid of, but Roe held its desires tight, as if in a net.

  Face clenched in concentration, Roe didn’t answer.

  “The queen is at the Neran Stronghold!” Mayara yelled. “We have to go to Olaku! And we have to go now, before the Silent Ones come to investigate this storm!”

  Roe nodded, so Mayara knew that she was getting through. Roe held out her hands. Mayara grasped one, and Palia the other. They clung to one another.

  “Where’s Lanei?” Mayara asked.

  “Lost!” Palia shouted back.

  Mayara felt a pang—she hadn’t liked Lanei, but she’d admired how she’d survived a year on the island. And then to die in something that was Mayara’s idea . . .

  But this was neither the time nor the place for guilt.

  “Hold on!” Roe called.

  She dropped to her knees and so did Mayara and Palia, all of them flattening against the spirit’s back as it hurtled forward. They plowed through the other wild spirits.

  “Send them away!” Roe called.

  While Roe directed the whale spirit, Mayara and Palia concentrated on sending the wild spirits toward Akena Island. They didn’t target the Silent Ones this time; they aimed them at the island itself.

  Destroy the island!

  That would help end the test, wouldn’t it?

  She didn’t think they’d succeed—the island’s spirits would defend against the wild spirits. But while the spirits were fighting one another, Mayara, Roe, and Palia could slip away.

  Maybe.

  But it was looking better and better. With luck, the Silent Ones would have their hands full reining in the spirits on the island and quelling the storm that Roe had raised.

  Soon, Mayara, Roe, and Palia left the storm behind them and shot through the water. Glancing back, Mayara wished they could have searched for Lanei. She didn’t deserve to die like that. “Did she drown, or was it spirits?”

  “Neither! She swam off of her own volition,” Roe replied. “Said she’d draw them away and that I was the one who had to get to the queen. Told Palia to make sure I made it.”

  “And I will,” Palia said. “Keep going!”

  Lanei could have left the island, but she chose to stay behind. That was brave. “I know she tried to kill us,” Mayara said, “but she wanted to do what’s right. I don’t think she was a murderer. I think she wanted to be a hero.”

  “We won’t waste her sacrifice,” Palia said. “We’ll make it.”

  “Wow, Palia,” Roe said. “That almost sounded like optimism.”

  Mayara glanced back again. South of Akena, the Silent Ones were arriving at the storm. They rode on the backs of spirits, both in the air and through the water. Mayara saw their silhouettes for only the briefest of moments before wind whipped sea spray around them, obscuring them from view.

  Mayara hoped they found Lanei in the storm and were able to save her, though she didn’t know what they’d make of a potential heir who had stayed beyond the end of her test. Would they treat her as a hero or a traitor?

  Which was she? Hero or traitor?

  The same question could be asked about Elorna.

  As they sped across the water, Mayara kept looking back at the spirit storm. Elorna was somewhere in there, distracting her silent sisters from following her birth sister.

  She remembered so clearly the moment she’d been told that Elorna had died. It was a rainy day, and she’d resented being trapped inside. She’d been sorting shells that she’d collected on the beach the day before. Three piles: good, broken, and smelly. Kelo had already started making wind chimes and mobiles, and she wanted to give him a present. Mayara didn’t know who had delivered the news to her parents, but she remembered that it was her father who had told her. He’d held her while he said the words: “Elorna isn’t coming back.”

  She remembered the way the rain seemed to slow when she heard those words. She’d felt the thump of her blood through her body, so loud it drowned out whatever her father said next. But it was the next day that was the worst, when she woke up in the morning and the sun was shining and she remembered all over again. She ate her breakfast without tasting it and listened to her mother crying in the other room. Their mother cried for days, heavier than the rain, and she didn’t come out of her room, even though Mayara desperately wanted her to. Mayara didn’t want to be alone with her sorrow—it was too big and too scary. She spent the days instead with Kelo. Mostly, they sat quietly side by side. He seemed to instinctively know that words would make it worse, that there were no words that would fix the way her heart felt empty or the world felt dimmed.

  But gradually, she’d resumed the business of living again, because you had to, unless you were their mother, who seemed to retreat more and more into herself. Leave her alone, everyone said. She needs her space. But she never seemed to have enough space. Instead she just created more and more space around herself—a buffer against having to feel anything.

  Mayara attempted to push her way in anyway, mostly with things Elorna had loved. She taught herself to dive deep. She’d always been a strong swimmer and a good diver, but in Elorna’s absence, she tried to fill the world with Elorna’s bravery, as if that would make up for the emptiness.

  It didn’t. Especially for Mother. Losing Elorna had shredded their mother, and no matter how fully Mayara had tried to live her life, it hadn’t been enough. In a way, Mayara had lost both her sister and her mother on that day.

  But Elorna was never gone.

  She chose to leave us.

  She knew as she had the thought that it wasn’t fair. Elorna hadn’t wanted to leave them. She’d chosen to live, which was the choice that Mayara had planned to make until she thought Kelo was dead. How could Mayara blame her for doing as Mayara had planned?

  Because I blame her for lying—for letting them tell her family she’d died.

  If they’d known that Elorna still lived, maybe their mother wouldn’t have withdrawn so much. Maybe their father wouldn’t have nearly fallen apart trying to hold their family together. Maybe Mayara . . .

  Actually, she didn’t know how it would have changed her.

  She wished she could have talked with Elorna longer. There was so much she wanted to ask her and tell her. And now I may never have another chance.

  A Silent One was sworn to not only hide her identity but reject it. Elorna shouldn’t ha
ve spoken—it was treason to tell Mayara who she was. Then again, sitting atop this spirit, Mayara was committing treason too. She just hoped she would have a chance to tell her parents that Elorna lived. She ached for that.

  She wished she’d thought to tell Elorna that she understood why she’d lied. Elorna had been afraid. Of course I understand that. She’d chosen to live, even if it meant a life without her loved ones. She’d asked the question: How far would you go to be with the ones you love? And she’d found an answer, a limit to how far she’d go and how much she’d risk. Fear had stopped her.

  It was a revelation in and of itself. Mayara had never thought her sister felt fear. But she had, and it had shaped the rest of her life. And mine.

  As Mayara struggled with the excitement that Elorna lived and her desire to forgive her sister, they sped toward the island of Olaku.

  So close to home. To Kelo.

  And yet it could just as easily be a lifetime away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Queen Asana’s ship docked at Neran Stronghold on the island of Olaku. She stood at the prow, her hands lightly clasped in front of her, her face as placid as she could make it. She couldn’t stop her heart from thumping as wildly as a bird’s wings beat, but she could give every outward appearance of calm. She had practice at that.

  As the sailors tied the ship to the dock, she studied the fortress. It was built into the rocky face of the island’s bones, and it radiated both elegance and power, like the Family who owned it. Curved like a conch shell, the stronghold spiraled in on itself, with the heart of the fortress protected by thick walls that looked as though they would weather a thousand storms.

  Asana wished she could unleash a thousand and one storms on them. But only after her family was safe. And not even then, she admonished herself. She didn’t want an internal war—she couldn’t afford one. She wanted only to seize her power back. To make sure the ones she loved were no longer under threat.

  Generations ago, when some member of some Family hit on the bright idea to control the queens with hostages, the power had shifted. Today I shift it back.