Water Keep

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Water Keep Page 9

by J. Scott Savage


  “Maybe the snake did get me, and I’m dying. Or maybe the whole snake thing was a dream, too.” Yes, that made sense. Men didn’t turn into snakes, and burning words didn’t magically change. Maybe Chet had knocked him down the stairs or hit him over the head with the mop, and he was in the hospital.

  The girl shook her head, but he ignored her.

  “I’ve never dreamed of a flying lizard before,” he said.

  “Lizard!” the creature yelped from his spot in the tree. He flapped his wings and puffed out another ball of fire. “I am not a lizard.”

  The girl put a hand to her mouth, only partially hiding a grin. “He’s a skyte. His name is Riph Raph. Skytes hate to be called lizards. It’s kind of an insult.”

  Marcus shook his head. “This is the strangest dream I’ve ever had.” He tried getting to his feet and nearly toppled over. The girl hurried to his side and took his arm. His right leg didn’t seem to want to hold his weight, but he was standing—at least for the moment.

  Turning slowly, he looked around him. The sky was such an amazingly deep shade of blue it was like looking into the ocean. And the field looked so inviting he wished he’d dreamed of having two completely healthy legs so he could run through it. To his left, he saw what he first took to be tiny green and red insects. But no, they were fish flying above the surface of the brook catching even tinier insects.

  On the bank, he saw a beautiful, bright yellow flower with jagged petals that looked like miniature saw blades. Putting most of his weight on his good leg, he knelt beside the flower.

  “Don’t!” the girl warned as he reached toward the blossom. But it was too late. Marcus touched the flower and it spit a stream of dark liquid on his finger.

  “Ouch,” he cried. Instantly, his finger swelled up to twice its normal size and burned like a bee sting.

  He stuck his wounded finger in his mouth just as the girl warned, “Don’t put it in your . . . mouth.”

  Now his tongue was burning too. “My mouth!” he tried to scream, but his tongue had swollen so much that it came out as, “om mob.”

  “Yep. He’s definitely loony,” the lizard said.

  The girl knelt by Marcus’s side. “Put your finger in the water,” she said. Taking him by the wrist, she plunged his hand into the ice-cold brook. Instantly the burning lessened, and the swelling went down. She cupped her hands into the stream and filled them with water.

  “Rinse your mouth out and spit,” she said, holding her cupped hands to him. “But don’t swallow unless you want a really bad stomach ache.”

  He sipped the water from her hands, swished it around in his mouth, and spit.

  “Better?” she asked.

  He nodded. The pain had lessened to a dull tingling and the swelling in his tongue was beginning to go down. “Wha’ ith tha’?” he asked, studying the yellow flower from a safe distance.

  “A Poison Polly,” the girl answered. “It’s not really poisonous, but it hurts like it is, doesn’t it?”

  Marcus gently squeezed his throbbing finger. In dreams you were supposed to wake up when you were about to get hurt. But then he’d never had a dream like this. He studied the girl. She was a few inches taller than he’d imagined her, with long arms and legs and a determined, yet friendly face. Her dark hair was draped over her shoulders instead of in the ponytail she wore in his dreams. But there was no question—she was the girl he’d seen.

  “Ith your name Kristen or Kelly?” His mouth felt as if he’d received a shot of Novocain.

  She shook her head and laughed. “Kris-ten? What a strange name! I’m Kyja.”

  “Kyja.” He carefully tried the name on his tongue. And she thought Kristen was a strange name? But Kyja seemed to fit her. “This really isn’t a dream, Kyja?”

  “After what I’ve seen today, I wish it were. But unless I’m dreaming too, I’m pretty sure it’s real.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear. “What’s your name?”

  “Marcus.”

  “Marcus,” she pronounced the name slowly and carefully as if it were difficult for her lips and tongue to form. “Where are you from?”

  “Does Arizona mean anything to you?”

  She shook her head with a puzzled smile.

  “America?” he tried again.

  “Sorry.”

  “How about Earth?”

  This time it was the skyte that answered. “He’s lying. Whoever heard of names like Amrica or Ert?”

  Marcus felt a surge of anger at the skyte’s mocking tone. “Until today, I’d never heard of a skyte. Does that mean you aren’t real?”

  “Never heard of a skyte? That’s nonsense.” The skyte flipped its little blue tail and soared off into the air.

  “Ignore Riph Raph,” Kyja said, waving a hand after the skyte. “He’s just suspicious of people he doesn’t know.”

  “That’s all right,” Marcus said, watching the odd little creature glide through the sky. “But if I’m not dreaming, how . . .” He tried standing again. This time he was able to get up by himself. But as soon as he tried to take a step, his right leg collapsed beneath him, and he fell to the ground. Still, he could move it. He could actually stand on his own. He tried unbending his left arm. It wouldn’t move at all, but he found he could almost completely straighten his fingers.

  “How is this possible?” he asked. “How can my arm and leg suddenly begin working?”

  Kyja only shrugged her shoulders.

  Leaning back on the cool grass, Marcus studied the geography of the land. The brook behind him seemed to flow from a ridge of rocky foothills far off to his left. A few yards to his right, the brook met a wide dirt road and disappeared briefly beneath a wooden bridge. Gazing in the direction the skyte had flown, he saw a glittering, white fingertip poking up from the horizon.

  He remembered his dream. “That’s a tower, isn’t it? With a white stone balcony at the top?”

  Kyja followed his gaze. “You’ve been here before?”

  “No. But I dreamed about it. You and I were standing on the balcony, looking down at a field of purple flowers. And there were strange trees with waving branches. Then everything changed, and when I looked for you, you were gone. In your place was a man in a black robe.”

  “The snake man?” Kyja asked, shivering despite the warm afternoon air.

  Riph Raph glided to the ground. “We need to leave. I saw something in the distance. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I think it might have been the snakes we saw back at the farm.”

  Chapter 18

  Magic and Machines

  Any more sign of the snakes?” Kyja asked as Riph Raph swooped down from the sky to perch on her shoulder. She and Marcus had been riding Chance for nearly five hours while the skyte kept an eye out from the air above them. The sun, which had been directly overhead when they started, was nearly touching the woods far to the west.

  “Not that I could see,” Riph Raph said. “I think we lost them.” He faced straight ahead, ignoring Marcus, who was seated behind Kyja—the two of them fitting easily in Chance’s large saddle. At first Marcus had clung tightly to Kyja’s waist, but as he became more comfortable with the horse’s easy gait, he began to relax.

  “You didn’t fly too high, did you?” Kyja asked. They had left the road and were sticking to the rough hills and valleys, riding through the lengthening shadows of the approaching evening. But if the snakes were on the lookout for her, they might be on the lookout for Riph Raph as well.

  “Of course not. I’m not crazy like some people.” Riph Raph snorted and glared at Marcus.

  Marcus grimaced. “It’s a good thing there are no skytes on Earth. They would have been caught and put into cages a long time ago just so people wouldn’t have to listen to them blab on and on. Soundproof cages.”

  Riph Raph stuck out his tongue and shook his head back and forth. “See what I mean? Crazy as a door beetle.”

  “Riph Raph, that’s enough,” Kyja said in a scolding tone. “If you can’t be nice,
then you can just go back to scouting.”

  “Fine.” Riph Raph sunk his talons a little too tightly into Kyja’s shoulder before flapping into the air. “But I wouldn’t sit too close to him if I were you. It might be catching.”

  “Sorry,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Marcus. “I think he’s still a little upset about you calling him a lizard.”

  “How was I supposed to know?” Marcus said. “I’ve never seen anything like him.”

  Kyja twisted around in the saddle, holding the reins loosely. “There are really no skytes on Ert?”

  “Earth,” Marcus corrected. “The closest thing we have are bats. But they don’t blow fire or speak. No animals speak. Except for parrots. And they only copy what you say to them.”

  “Pa-rots,” Kyja repeated. For the last few hours she and Marcus had been comparing notes on their two worlds.

  In some ways, they’d discovered, things were very similar. When she described the Goodnuffs’ farm—trying not to think about what had happened to them—he seemed to know exactly what she meant. He said he’d lived with a farm family for almost two years. But other things he told her seemed so incredible it was all she could do to keep from calling him an out-and-out liar.

  “People really fly through the sky like birds on Ert?” she asked, twisting almost completely around so she could study Marcus’s eyes.

  “Well the people don’t actually fly. They ride in big metal machines called airplanes that have long wings and sometimes leave white cloud trails behind them.”

  Machines. Although Marcus had used the word before, Kyja still didn’t understand exactly what it meant. “These machines are some kind of magic then?”

  “Magic?” Marcus laughed. “There’s no such thing as magic. That’s just in books and movies.”

  Now it was Kyja’s turn to laugh. She had no idea what a moovy was, but even babies knew about magic. “That’s ridiculous. Next thing you’ll tell me you don’t believe in water or air.”

  Marcus tilted his head as though waiting for the punchline of a joke. “You’re talking about real magic? Not just pretend tricks?”

  “Of course,” Kyja answered.

  “Spells and potions and things? Abracadabra, hocus-pocus, bibbidi-bobbidi-boo?”

  “I don’t know about hocus-pocus or bibbidi-whatever. But everyone knows about spells and potions. You act like . . .” All at once it dawned on her. “You don’t have magic in your world?”

  “No.” Marcus began to shake his head, then seemed to reconsider. Finally he shook his head. “You’re talking about making things move around by themselves and creating fire out of nothing?”

  “Yes,” she said, delighted by how excited he was over something as ordinary as magic.

  “That is so cool,” he said, his eyes all agog. “Can I see your wand? Do you fly on brooms and send letters with owls like Harry Potter?”

  “A hairy what?” She was finding it hard to keep up.

  “Never mind.” He closed his eyes. “Okay, cast a spell on me. Turn me into a frog or make my nose really long.”

  Kyja bit her lip.

  After a moment, Marcus opened his eyes. “Did you cast it already?” He felt his nose.

  She shook her head. She knew she should tell him she couldn’t do magic. But after making such a big deal about how common magic was in this world—and especially after all the amazing things he’d told her about his world—she didn’t want to admit she couldn’t cast even the simplest spell.

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You were making it up, weren’t you? It was all a big story to see how dumb you could make me look.”

  “No! I didn’t make any of it up.”

  “Well then, prove it,” he said, still looking suspicious. “Make a rock float up in the air. Or turn my hair green. Cast any spell you want . . . unless you can’t.”

  Marcus’s words cut into Kyja like a knife. How dare he accuse her of lying? Especially when his world didn’t even have magic. Of course, she knew she should tell him the truth about herself—it was only a matter of time before he found out anyway. But she couldn’t bear to admit it while he was looking at her that way.

  “Maybe I just don’t want to,” she snapped. “If I can’t do magic, then explain how I brought you here. Maybe I should have left you back with the snake!” With that she turned around, not wanting him to see her hot cheeks or her trembling lips.

  For the next hour, they rode silently over the small, rock-strewn rises and down through grassy valleys. Chance kept a steady mile-eating pace while Riph Raph ranged ahead and behind.

  As the sun turned the distant horizon a dozen brilliant shades of red and orange, Marcus shifted in the saddle. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you could do magic,” he said. “And I am glad you brought me here—even if I’m not really sure where here is.”

  Kyja turned back to see if he was really serious. When she saw he was, she felt even worse for letting him think she could do magic. Tomorrow she’d tell him the truth. “I’m glad you’re here too. I’m still scared, but I’d be terrified if I were by myself.”

  Marcus looked about the landscape that contained so many things he’d never seen before. “Me too.”

  As he finished speaking, his stomach gave a growl loud enough that even Chance turned his head. Marcus eyed the bag tied to the back of the saddle. “That wouldn’t have any food in it, would it?”

  “You’ve never eaten Bella’s cooking. You’re in for a treat,” Kyja said. She studied the horizon behind them and sighed. “I’d hoped Master Therapass would have caught up with us before now, but we’d probably better stop for the night.”

  “Good thing,” Marcus said, rubbing his backside. “I think my rear end is now permanently shaped like this saddle.”

  Chapter 19

  The Visitor

  Marcus chewed the last bit of meat off a chicken leg and tossed the bone up to Riph Raph, who was perched in a crooked pine tree. Riph Raph caught the bone in one talon and crunched into its marrow with his beak. Either the skyte had called a temporary truce for the night, or he just wanted Marcus’s leftovers.

  “That was by far the best meal I’ve ever had,” Marcus said, wiping up the last of his beans with a corner of biscuit.

  “I should hope so,” Kyja said. She’d watched him polish off two chicken breasts, a pair of legs, almost half a pot of baked beans, and four biscuits. “If you keep eating like that, our food won’t last two days.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t have dinner last night—or this morning, or whenever it was.” But that was only part of it. The food here, like the air, was incredible—filled with flavors and spices he didn’t know existed. If restaurants on Earth served chicken like this, they’d never be able to close their doors.

  He leaned back against a mossy boulder and accidentally let out a large belch. “Excuse me,” he said, covering his mouth.

  Not to be outdone, Kyja burped even louder. “You’re excused,” she said with a mischievous grin.

  They both burst into gales of laughter. Marcus had no idea where he was, how he’d gotten here, or how he was going to get back home, but for the moment he felt more content than he’d ever felt in his life.

  “I don’t understand how the food stays warm and doesn’t go bad,” he said, brushing the crumbs off his metal plate into the fire. Before Kyja could answer, he held up one hand, palm out, in a stopping gesture. “Let me guess. Magic?”

  Kyja only smiled.

  Marcus stretched out his bad leg on the grassy meadow. His stomach was in seventh heaven, but his leg ached, and his rear felt like someone had beaten it with a baseball bat.

  “Do you think your wizard friend will come tonight?” he asked. On the horse and over dinner, Kyja had told Marcus about how Master Therapass had looked out for her her whole life and about the wizard’s powerful magic.

  “I’m not sure,” Kyja said, tugging at the chain of her necklace. “I thought he’d be here before now. I hope nothing’s happened to him.�


  “Like what?” Marcus was fascinated by the idea of meeting a great wizard—especially one who could turn into a wolf.

  She stood and tossed another stick into the fire. “Until today I would have said there was nothing that could stop Master Therapass from doing anything he wanted. But until today I’d never seen him scared. And after seeing those snakes come up out of the ground like that . . .” She shook her head, the worry clear on her face.

  “Maybe he just wants to make sure no one follows him,” Marcus suggested.

  “I hope you’re right. Maybe he waited until night so he could sneak out of the city without being noticed. He’s probably on his way here now.”

  Marcus yawned widely. He tried to count how many hours he’d been up, but kept getting confused. He picked up his plate and fork, scooted around to the other side of the fire, and reached for Kyja’s plate. “I’ll take these down to the stream and wash them.”

  “You’d fall asleep halfway there,” Kyja said with a grin. “I’ll wash the plates tonight, and you can do them in the morning.”

  She nodded toward a spot of flattened grass near the blazing logs. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring any blankets. But if you curl up near the fire, you should be warm enough. Riph Raph and I will keep it burning all night while we take turns on watch.”

  “I want to take a turn too,” Marcus said.

  “I don’t think so.” Kyja glanced out into the night that hung like a dark curtain just beyond the fire’s glow and then at Marcus’s twisted arm. “There are things out there you might not have in your world. The fire should keep them away. But if it doesn’t, you wouldn’t know what to do.”

  “How hard can it be? If anything comes close, I’ll wake you.” He stared back at her defiantly. “As long as I’m with you two, I’m doing my part. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

  Kyja looked up at Riph Raph, who swallowed the last of his dinner and shrugged his wings. “The worst he can do is get us all killed.”

  “You’re not being very nice,” Kyja said, with a roll of her eyes. She studied Marcus intently. He was right. Eventually he would need to take part.

 

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