CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kayla sank deep and fast. At least the flute would be buried in this vast, watery grave. C’Tan would not have it. Kayla readied herself to give in to the darkness, was about to breathe in her last, when she felt hands on both sides of her.
To her left, T’Kato, and to her right, a creature that seemed a cross between cat and beaver. Kayla wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or scared, but at the moment wasn’t sure she even cared; she was in too much pain, and her lungs felt near to bursting.
The cat smiled, and Kayla recognized the toothy grin and flashing eyes of Sarali. Strange that she looked different in the water than she had on the land. The MerCat leaned close and exhaled directly into Kayla’s face.
To her amazement, a bubble about the size of a grapefruit formed around Sarali’s mouth. She blew out again and the bubble grew to the size of a melon, then again until the pocket of air was the size of a boulder.
Sarali released the bubble and grasped it with her paws, much as a child would a ball, and pushed it into Kayla’s face. Her nose punctured the skin of the bubble, the texture much like that of gravy skimmings. It spread across her face and then past it until her entire head was completely encased.
Kayla opened her eyes, lungs still burning, and met Sarali’s eyes.
”Breathe!” The cat woman mouthed.
Kayla shook her head, afraid she would dislodge the air and perish in the sea.
“Breathe!” Sarali mouthed again, her eyes concerned.
Darkness tinged Kayla’s vision, bright flashes pulling her sight upward, but she dared not take a breath. If she was going to die, she preferred it be a nice, quiet drowning. That was what she expected, not this last surge of hope that was too fragile to hold.
T’Kato goosed her backside, and Kayla gasped, arching forward in surprise. She inhaled huge lungfuls of air for a moment, astounded that she could actually breathe underwater. She only wished T’Kato had found a more dignified way to get her to do so. She turned and glared at the grinning man—but she was breathing, and he had saved her life, after all, so her glare was halfhearted at best.
Kayla was afraid her air would completely disappear if she couldn’t slow her breathing, but the bubble held—though it shrank marginally with each breath. Now that she could breathe, she became aware of the constant flood of tears that leaked down her face. The pain from her injured shoulder was horrid. Never in her life had she known such misery. She wanted to lie down and die, would be thankful to drown just to end the torment.
Sarali pointed downward and Kayla nodded, not sure how she was expected to swim in her condition.
T’Kato wrapped an arm around her good side and pulled her downward. He was a strong swimmer and somehow was able to manage himself and her . . . all without breathing. She finally noticed the frills on his neck that surged open and closed, water flowing through, like the gills of a fish. She quit worrying about him then and relaxed her upper body, kicking only her legs to assist him on the journey down.
But the fight was not over yet.
A lance of lightning-colored flame came from above, searing through the water before it caught her arm, leaving a black streak of char on the outside of her bicep. Kayla shrieked, her voice echoing strangely inside the air bubble. Another streak fell and caught T’Kato in the shoulder, and a third singed Sarali’s fur. T’Kato did not stop. He pulled harder until at last they were out of reach.
C’Tan had found a way to attack them while they were buried beneath the sea, shooting fire or lighting at them from the air. Kayla should have known that a little water wouldn’t make C’Tan give up her quest for the flute. This was a battle for life—and not just Kayla’s own. It was a battle for the life of her planet and not something she could afford to surrender, though pain made it very, very tempting.
The pressure began to build, her bubble of air growing smaller, her body able to take in less air as the pressure grew on her chest. It seemed Sarali was guiding them to the very bottom of the ocean, though at the moment it seemed bottomless—a never ending expanse of ever-darkening blue.
A long line of glowing light gleamed up from the depths. It grew larger the closer they swam. Sarali headed directly to the light and beckoned for Kayla to come to her. T’Kato dragged Kayla forward until it seemed she could reach her hand out and touch it.
Sarali pointed at the light and then at Kayla, trying to tell her something, though Kayla was so befuddled by her injury that she wasn’t sure what. She shook her head, not in denial, but in questioning. Sarali touched the light, then pushed her foreleg through. Sarali’s hand was on the other side, claws extended and retracting as she wiggled her paw. She pulled it back, then pointed back to Kayla and again to the bubble.
Suddenly Kayla understood.
T’Kato pulled her forward a few inches more as she reached her hand out to the glowing light and pushed it through. Immediately her hand felt lighter, water dripping from her arm. Kayla was so astonished that she did not move for a long moment, just held her arm through the skin of the bubble and felt the air caress it.
Air.
At the bottom of the ocean—a tube of air. Kayla couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea, but despite that, she pushed her other arm through to experience the same effect, and then leaned forward and let her nose puncture the air tube the same way it had around her hand. The oxygen tickled her nose as she pushed the rest of her face forward: brows, chin, and then her entire head dripped water inside the tube.
Kayla opened her eyes and gasped in astonishment. The sand at the bottom of the tube was completely dry, such as she would find while walking on land. The flowing air was crisp and clean, and was apparently the only thing holding the walls of water away. Kayla shivered. It was creepy in a way, but she was so thankful for it, she pushed the rest of her body through the skin and immediately fell to the dry tube floor, unable to stand. She lay there, spread-eagled on the cool sand, breathing in the moist air.
She would have slept that very instant if not for the pain in her shoulder and the burn on her arm. They throbbed and ached as if someone were eating away at her with acid-filled teeth. She groaned and sat up, clutching her shoulder with a hand that came away damp. At least her shirt was not stuck to the wound, but pink water and red blood dripped from her elbow and fingertips to stain the ground.
Help arrived in the form of T’Kato and Sarali, now changed back into the human forms Kayla knew so well. They entered the tunnel about ten feet down from her and approached quickly, kneeling to each side.
“How are you doing, Kayla?” T’Kato asked.
“I’m still alive,” she responded.”Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad right now.”
“I’d be sayin’ good, lass,” Sarali said. “But I think we need to take a look at that shoulder.”
“Just be careful,” Kayla answered, willing to accept any help she could get. When Sarali unlaced her blouse, Kayla did not object. She thought nothing of modesty at that moment, though thankfully T’Kato did. He took himself some distance down the tunnel, keeping his back to her.
Kayla glanced to the water wall and would have been fascinated under other circumstances, but at that point she was nearly unaware of the closeness of the fish and long, multi-limbed squid. All she knew was pain as Sarali pushed and prodded, inspecting the injured shoulder.
It seemed an eternity before she was done and called to her husband. “T’Kato, come set your eyes to this, man. I need your opinion.”
T’Kato came back, though it did not seem he was anxious to do so. Sarali beckoned him onward.
“Hurry, man, this is no time to be shy! I need your eyes and hands.“
T’Kato settled down on Kayla’s left, his eyes meeting his wife’s, and Kayla thought she detected a hint of red under his coloring. Could this giant of a man be embarrassed? Granted she was half undressed, but nothing of import was showing above her bindings—just her shoulder and collarbone.
Sarali jabbed
at Kayla’s shoulder, lightly, though it felt as though an iron rod drove through her skin. Kayla gasped in objection.
“Sorry, lass,” Sarali apologized. “Here, T’Kato, what do ye make of this?” She pointed to the broken bone that jutted from the mangled flesh. “Do ye think we could be binding this with a bit of power until we can get her to a healer?”
T’Kato leaned in close then, forgetting his embarrassment. He prodded the bone lightly, then held his hand over the wound without touching it. He closed his eyes and seemed to feel. Not with his hand, but more an inner feeling. Kayla felt heat and a tightening tingle beneath his hand, and somehow it soothed the pain. She found herself reluctant to have him move away, but eventually he did. He looked at his wife and slowly nodded his head.
“I think it can be done—enough to keep it clean and in place, yes. The energy is still there and flowing in the proper patterns, so we need only to align the bone with energy, and it should heal itself. The flesh is a different matter, though. I don’t think I can do much with that. I know some herbs and salves we could use to speed the healing if we were on land, but here—” He shrugged and left his sentence unfinished.
Sarali looked thoughtful for a moment. “There be some things like that in the water world, too. Maybe I could make a short trip back to the waters and fetch a wee bit for the lass?” She looked questioningly at her spouse.
He nodded again. “Let’s fix this bone first, though, Sari, and let her rest while you’re getting them. She’s probably even more tired than I am. We could all do with some sleep.”
It wasn’t until he mentioned how tired he was that Kayla realized that her pain had not returned to its previous level of intensity. Evidently the magic used to probe had relieved some of the pain already.
Sarali did not answer, only smiled at the man and touched his face tenderly for a moment. They joined fingers and both placed their free hand over Kayla’s collarbone, much as T’Kato had before. The heat intensified this time, much more than she would have imagined by only adding a single person. The tingling itched until it was almost painful. It was all Kayla could do to keep from reaching up to scratch the raw wound.
She clutched the flute to her chest to keep herself from moving, and realized the flute glowed its bright sapphire blue again, the color flowing into the joined hands of T’Kato and Sarali, their eyes closed in concentration.
Her eyes followed the flow of energy to her shoulder, and she gasped in surprise. The hands of her healers were encased in the blue power of the flute, and not only were the bones knitting back together, but the flesh and muscle were joining and healing as well. These two were healing her with the help of the flute, despite their belief that they could not.
But why was the flute helping her? Did it need her whole? Were they now bound and joined in some odd way? Watching her body being healed from the inside out, she felt the urge to learn all she could about this blue keystone. If she was to be its guardian, would it not make sense for her to learn as much about it as possible?
Kayla’s eyes were wide and teary by the time the two fell back, exhausted, and lay on the sand, breathing as heavily as if they had just finished their run from C’Tan. They did not even open their eyes to look at their handiwork. But Kayla inspected it carefully. She pulled her blouse back and took her arm from the tattered sleeve to examine it.
What had looked like shredded meat was now whole, with only three slashing scars covering her shoulder as evidence of the injury. She moved the limb around, twisting and turning it, back and forth, her grin growing broader with each move. She was healed, only a little sore, as if she had been lifting sacks of potatoes or bales of hay.
Suddenly she wanted to be clean and rid of the smell of blood and fear. She stood and moved down the tunnel a short distance, then pulled the blouse from her shoulders to thrust it through the wall of air and into the water, leaving her dressed only in the baggy trousers and the strange binding Sarali had given her. Kayla’s hands immediately chilled, but she didn’t care. She swished the shirt through the sea, thrilled by her unexpected healing. The two finally became aware as she stood with her arms elbow deep in the water.
“What are you—?” Sarali started, and then gasped as Kayla turned and grinned at her, holding the dripping blouse up to inspect it. Sarali immediately rushed to her side to examine the scar. She pushed, prodded, moved Kayla’s shoulder and arm, and finally sat down hard in the sand, completely shocked, without the strength to stand.
Kayla laughed at Sarali’s expression—a laugh of pure delight at the astonishing experience. It had become obvious that somebody was watching out for her, though whether it was the flute or one of the Guardians themselves, she was not sure. All she knew was that she was healed.
“What happened?” T’Kato finally asked, confusion on his face.
“Between the two of you and a little help from the flute—”
“The flute?” Sarali asked, surprised. “The flute did this?” Her face showed a little
disappointment.
Kayla knelt before her friend and took her hands. “You and T’Kato healed me,” she answered, meeting Sarali’s eyes in thanks. “The flute merely added power and direction to your efforts.”
“But—” the small woman began. Kayla would not let her finish.
“You did this, Sarali. Don’t doubt it. It was the two of you who healed me,” she continued, squeezing Sarali’s hands. The flute pulsed brighter, as if in agreement, and Sarali slowly nodded.
Kayla put the cold, dripping blouse back on, grateful for the ability to do such a simple thing as that. She was still weak from blood loss, but felt strangely enervated after the experience of healing. She laced up the blouse in silence, letting her thoughts and feelings wander until she was through.
“So where are we?” she finally asked, and that seemed to break the awe-filled silence that had settled over them.
“Would ye laugh if I told ye it was a secret passage through the ocean?” Sarali asked.
Kayla blinked. “Really?”
“Passages criss-cross the oceans the world over, lass. The land walkers have lost the memory of these things. Not many souls find a way to enter, and not a one has a map—but my people know. We’ve been navigating these passages for hundreds of years. I know where to go. Just name a place, and I’ll be getting ye there.”
Kayla was quiet for a long moment. “Can we go to the evahn? Can we go to my father?” she asked, a faint ray of hope shining in.
T’Kato and Sarali met eyes, questioning one another, and then Sarali turned. “I don’t see why not, lass. And it may be he’ll have a bit o’ advice for ye about the flute. The evahn have many a scroll and book that none o’ our peoples have had access to for a very long time. If any man can tell ye where to go to find the player, that’d be the place to start.”
Kayla grinned, a sudden wave of butterflies fluttering up from her already unsettled stomach. Excitement and fear mingled, but she knew where she needed to go now, and it was no longer just a childhood dream, a fantasy.
She was going to be reunited with her father at last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
If Ember could have run from the council chambers, she would have done so without a thought, but this time it was fear that motivated her rather than the willful defiance of the past. She was immobile—frozen by some unknown magic she could not counter, facing a gathering of the most powerful magi in the land, and they accused her of being a cheater, a liar, and now a spy, and she could not even speak to defend herself.
The council members argued. Ember caught snatches of their conversations, some in agreement with the head mage and others arguing for Ember to present her side of the story. Still others whispered the possibility that she truly was a white mage—perhaps even the wolfchild.
Ember had no idea what they were talking about, but she definitely wanted a chance to speak her piece. They were wrong, and she could prove it, if she could free herself and change to her own form
. If Uncle Shad or DeMunth came, they could tell the council. She’d even welcome the sight of her mother at that moment.
As if the thought had been somehow plucked from her mind, the head mage began to speak again, making his case against her.
“Proof? You ask for proof? Then you shall have it. Let them in!”
The flamboyant fat man again nodded to the sixth guard, who leaned out the big double doors and was nearly pushed over by the entrance of Ember’s diminutive mother, her rage giving her strength she wouldn’t normally have. The one person she had been avoiding, the woman she’d tried to evade with her disguise, was now standing not ten feet away and all Ember wanted to do was call out to her—and she was denied even that.
“Where’s my daughter?” Marda demanded angrily, her hands on her hips and chin thrust forward as if to batter the head mage with it.
“Sister Brina. The council welcomes you back to its midst.” The eye-popping mage sneered at Ember’s mother.
“I haven’t been your sister or Brina for fifteen years, Laerdish, and I’m not here by choice. Where is my daughter?” she asked again.
Ember had a memory of Shad calling Ember’s parents Jarin and Brina. Was Laerdish really her brother? Or was it figurative? And why would he welcome her back to a council she’d never joined? Ember’s thoughts scrambled, looking for sanity in the nightmare her life had become.
“Don’t you recognize her, Brina? For the one going by her name is standing right before you.” He swept his arm toward Ember, and her mother’s gaze was on her, burning holes through her soul.
Ember wondered what in heaven’s name she had been thinking when she wished her mother would come. She’d forgotten just how piercing her mother’s eyes were in the short few days she had been gone.
“No. I do not see my daughter here. What game are you playing?”
She glared at Laerdish. The fat man grinned maliciously at her. “This boy took the mage test in Ember’s name while wearing this. I seem to remember Jarin had something similar.” He handed the pendant to Marda. She took the pendant, shock and horror on her face as she realized exactly what it was she held.
The Sapphire Flute Page 28