Sprite (Annabelle's Story Part One)

by Leigh Michael

  Somehow, the Tracker bit only the tip of my flipper. It left marks in it, but not enough to create a hole. All in all, I was extremely lucky my shoulder was the only thing truly damaged.

  “The cave mouth is right ahead!” Adrian said pointing. “Wait here while I make sure it’s safe.”

  “What? No!”

  “I need to make sure there aren’t any Trackers out there.”

  “What about the Trackers in here?” I pleaded, pointing back down the tunnel.

  “Annabelle, just listen. I’m going to look really fast for Clemente. If the coast is clear, I’ll call for you. Swim out as fast as you can and head straight to the jet stream. As fast as you can. You hear me?”

  I nodded.

  The next few moments seemingly took an eternity. I alternated between peering behind me and looking longingly from the opening. Finally, I heard a muffled version of my name.

  I wasted no time before I raced through the face of the cave.

  Adrian was immediately at my side.

  “Where’s Clemente?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to keep on going.”

  I strained my eyes to try and spot Clemente, but there wasn’t any sign of him in my bubble of light.

  “Come on! There’s nothing we can do to help him right now.”

  I didn’t like it, but I knew Adrian was right. I hated knowing we first left Natasha and Shamus behind and now Clemente.

  I also knew we couldn’t waste any more time. The Trackers could emerge from the cave at any moment. The last thing I wanted was another battle. I didn’t think I could mentally fight right now. And I knew hand-to-hand combat wasn’t my forte. Unlike Adrian, I didn’t even have a sword or anything to fight with.

  With regret, I hurried toward the jet stream. Every minute or so, I looked back, squinting, trying to make out any trace of the Trackers.

  A total of ten times I scoured behind us until the jet stream came into view. The tenth time, my heart dropped at the sight of the approaching selkie.

  “They’re gaining on us!”

  “Okay, Annabelle, this is what we’re going to do.”

  He took a moment to think, then continued, “The Trackers think we’re going to use the jet stream to escape. Instead, dive through it.”

  “All right. Okay.”

  I certainly didn’t have a better idea. I also knew I couldn’t swim much further right now. I only hoped I had enough strength to make it through the jet stream without getting swept away.

  Please, please, please let me make it through.

  I took a big breath, closed my eyes, and launched myself forward.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Adrian’s head shot back and forth, examining the water. “There!” he said, pointing.

  Although at first, I didn’t even hear him. The fact I’d just made it through the jet stream enthralled me. I didn’t bother moving my outstretched arms or legs.

  “Come on!”

  This time, Adrian grabbed my hand to lead me.

  Beneath the jet stream, a row of large boulders filled the space to meet the ground. One in particular included a small opening along the sand.

  “Go!”

  I made a mad dash toward it. Climbing in, the hole was barely big enough for the two of us. Adrian squeezed in next to me then reached out to position another rock to conceal us inside. It was the perfect size to disguise the entrance, casting complete darkness over us.

  I didn’t care about the blackness. I was too tired to care. All I did was lay there and listen for any sounds of the Trackers. We must’ve lain there without moving, not speaking, and only breathing slowly for close to an hour.

  Finally, Adrian broke the silence. “I think they’re gone.”

  I waited another few seconds. “I think so, too.”

  “How are you feeling? How’s your shoulder. Does it hurt?”

  Shifting, the movement caused a sharp pain.

  “It’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt too bad,” I lied.

  “Ugh,” he said as he threw up his hands. “This has turned into a mess. You’re hurt, we abandoned everyone else, the coins weren’t in the chest like the prophecy said, and we lost the tablet.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I dropped it.”

  “It’s not your fault. I’m sure it would’ve been too heavy for me to carry too.”

  “I tried to memorize it, but it was in Greek.”

  He leaned in, our faces nearly touching. “What? You did? Do you remember any of it?”

  “I think a little bit.”

  “Okay, how about this? I’ll sneak out to find some food and supplies. While I’m gone, can you try to piece together what you saw?”

  “I can try, but Adrian, what if I can’t?”

  “Just try,” he said, then pushed the rock aside.

  The light slipped through as Adrian slipped out. Then he shifted the stone back into place, replacing the light with darkness.

  “Adrian!”

  “What?!” I heard him whisper back.

  “Can you leave the rock open a little bit?”

  After he repositioned it, a sliver of light provided enough light to make out the interior of our hiding hole. I’m normally not scared of the dark. I’m eighteen, not eight. But after the day I had, the little light was reassuring once by myself.

  While Adrian was gone, I tried to picture the tablet in my head. Every time, all my thoughts conjured up were Shamus’ lifeless body and the Trackers manhandling Natasha. Feeling guilty for leaving them didn’t even begin to explain my current emotions. Devastation—that was more like it.

  Although deep down, I knew Adrian was right. We had no choice but to leave them. Worrying about my friends wasn’t going to help decode this tablet.

  So again, I tried to pull the words on the tablet from my memory.

  This time, I recalled three or four lines of text. Within that text, my method of memorizing included sounding out each word phonetically.

  I wracked my brain as I rapidly tapped my fingers against my leg. Five or so words came into focus. One word sounded like “op-too,” another word like “yev” with a “w” at the end, and the last could be said like “pa-key.”

  Sighing, I doubted that I’d be any help to Adrian.

  And what if I couldn’t help? Would our mission be over? Then what? Would the Trackers continue to hurt people for their pure enjoyment? Would they continue to track me down as this so-called chosen one?

  The fact that the prophecy said there’d be coins inside, and instead only that tablet, made me once again doubt that I was anything special. Well, besides some weirdo who breathed water and shot currents from my hands.

  Yes, I opened the chest. But, who knows, it could’ve been a fluke.

  This whole situation was a mess. And my emotions were like a yo-yo.

  Adrian returned right in time. I needed someone to distract me from my own cynicism.

  “You’ve got to be hungry,” he said, leaving the rock ajar so we could see.

  “Is that seaweed?”

  My face, and stomach, twisted at the sight of it.

  His face also twisted, but in a playful way. “Yes, it is. And you’re going to eat it, like it or not. It’s got tons of vitamins and you need all you can get right now.”

  My only response was a stare.

  “Here, put this on your shoulder,” he instructed, handing me a bundle of seaweed.

  “I thought this was our dinner?”

  He shot me another playful look. “There’s sand in it, which contains tons of sea salt. It should help with your bruising and the pain, Dr. Walsh.”

  I’d heard of salt healing wounds before, so figured it was worth a try. Slipping it through my neck hole, the tightness of my body suit held my little medicine pack perfectly in place against my shoulder.

  Then, my gaze fell on the remaining seaweed. It sure wasn’t like the lobster and king crab we’d been eating back in Tritonis.

  Right on cue, my stomach gro
wled. I suppose I had no choice.

  While we dined on the slimy, gross food, I tried to help Adrian depict what I saw on the tablet. It was quite the process.

  First, I sounded out what I remembered reading. He then backtracked to break down each part of the word.

  My pronunciations were horrible, and it literally took us hours of concentration, bursts of laughter at silly words, and even more concentration to come up with five Greek words.

  γεννώ

  ρυάκι

  ορτυξ

  απόγονος

  βλέπω

  Just to demonstrate my poor phonetic memory, a word like γεννώ started with me describing it as “yev” with a “w.” It turned out sounding somewhat like “ya know” in English.

  Next, Adrian translated each of the words for me.

  We had “γεννώ” meaning to give birth, “ρυάκι” which meant stream, “ορτυξ” for quail, “απόγονος” as descendant, and “Βλέπω” which meant to see.

  From there, it felt like putting a puzzle together. Except, the top of the box that displayed the full photo was missing. We did our best to fill in gaps, mix the order of the words around, and so on. It wasn’t an easy task.

  “Okay, this isn’t working.”

  “I know,” Adrian groaned, leaning back against the wall of the rock.

  I allowed myself another moment to think, this time tapping my finger against my bottom lip. “I’m assuming it has something to do with Greek history. It is a Greek prophecy and all.”

  “Makes sense, but I feel like we’ve connected it to the prophecy in every way possible.”

  “All right, so maybe it’s not about the prophecy directly.”

  “I’ll buy that. What are you thinking?”

  “Well, Abas is a descendant of this great deity, right?”

  “Yeah, Poseidon was his father.”

  “Okay, okay…” I said, thinking. “How can we relate these words to Abas?”

  “Oh my gosh,” Adrian said, shooting forward. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”

  “What?!”

  “Arethusa, Abas’ mom. She was turned into a stream. So that can account for ρυάκι.”

  “Good. This is good. Tell me everything you know about that story again.”

  “Okay, so Arethusa was a Naiad. The fact that she was Naiad meant that she lived in fresh water. You also had the Nereid and the Oceanid. You see, these two classes of sprites are pretty similar. They both live in salt-water, except the Nereid are known for being from the Mediterranean. And the—”

  “Adrian!” I blurted out, cutting him off. “Do you think explaining this all is really going to help?”

  “Well it could.”

  “Can you just tell me the story again of Arethusa turning into a stream?”

  “Fine,” he said. “So the story began when she bathed in a stream. A river god saw her and instantly fell in love, but Arethusa was scared and tried to run away from him. While he chased her, she prayed to her goddess. The goddess hid her, but it didn’t help, the river god found her.”

  “Right, right. Then she freaked out and couldn’t stop sweating, which turned her into a stream.”

  “Yes, so after she was a stream, the goddess broke the ground so she could flow away, helping her escape once more. The river god was relentless and eventually mingled with her water.”

  “Hmm,” I pondered. “Where did her stream end up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When the river god mingled with her—where did that happen?”

  “Oh, umm, I’m pretty sure it was in Italy because she’s known as the Naiad nymph of Syracuse in Sicily.”

  “Okay, so maybe we should go to Sicily?”

  He held up his hand. “Wait, I’m trying to remember. After she fled, I think her waters ended up around an island off the coast of Sicily.”

  “Do you remember its name?”

  “I’m pretty sure it was Ortygia.”

  “Okay, so I say—”

  “Yes! Wait, it was definitely Ortygia.”

  “All right then,” I said, raising an eyebrow. His thought process left him rather enthused.

  “No, I mean, I know it was Ortygia because the word originated from ancient Greek. It means quail.”

  Upon hearing this, excitement built inside of me as well.

  “Okay, we’re making progress. So far we’ve connected a few words: descendant, stream, and quail. Which made sense: the descendant’s, aka Abas’, mother was turned into a stream and was eventually caught in the waters of Ortygia.”

  “I can’t believe the pieces are actually coming together,” Adrian said. “What words do we have left?”

  “Just γεννώ for birth and βλέπω meaning to see.”

  “So maybe it has to do with the birth of Abas, or Arethusa, or maybe even you. You’re a descendant of the same deity.”

  “I really don’t think this is about me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I wasn’t sure what else to say. I didn’t want to think about my involvement in the prophecy right now. Instead, I brought the attention back to Arethusa. “Tell me anything else you know about Arethusa. She seems to be an important link.”

  “I can’t really remember too much more. Like I said, she was known as the Naiad nymph of Syracuse in Sicily, but others referred to her by different titles as well.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can only think of two. The first is the Naiad nymph of the sacred spring. ‘The waterer’ is the second.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “‘The waterer’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, many fountains were created in her honor.”

  “Yeah, I’ve visited the one in London. I don’t understand the whole ‘waterer’ thing though.”

  “There’s always water flowing from her. And hence, she’s ‘the waterer.’”

  “Hmm, okay.” I sat quiet for another moment, my eyes unfocused. “Adrian, I’ve reached my breaking point. I’m having a hard time remembering my own name.”

  “Me, too. But I think the tablet is telling us to head towards the quail, to Ortygia. I’m just not sure what to do once we get there.”

  I didn’t know either. It impressed me that we pieced together this much with only a few words.

  I felt very out of my element here. For me, the history of the sprites was limited to the stories I’d heard so far. Thank goodness Adrian grasped his history well.

  As far as what to do once in Italy, anyone’s guess was as good as mine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  For once, I woke up feeling decent.

  I felt my muscles strain as I stretched my arms across my body then straight over my head. The pain in my shoulder had faded considerably. The salt pack had worked wonders.

  And even after pushing our minds to the limit yesterday, sleep rejuvenated me. I was surprised considering I used my head so much yesterday to shoot currents at the Trackers and with the tablet.

  I wasn’t about to object though. I even woke before Adrian. Reaching over, I tried to shake him awake.

  “Five more minutes.”

  I grinned, sometimes Adrian seemed like a typical teenage boy. Then just as fast as my grin appeared, I pushed it away. That smile of mine was just a little bit too endearing and felt a little too wrong.

  “Come on, Adrian. We gotta get moving. You know we’ve got that whole New Year’s Day deadline looming and all,” I added with a slight edge to my voice.

  “Oh crap, so this isn’t all a bad dream?” he said groggily.

  “I wish. It’s not like I volunteered to go on this little journey. Pretty sure I was kidnapped.”

  He sat upright, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Sure, but you eventually came around to the idea of helping us, did you not?”

  “I suppose. Why don’t we just get started? As luxurious as this rock is, I’d like to g
et back to Tritonis as soon as possible. Better yet, I’d like to get back to New Jersey.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everything okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  And felt like a jerk. My snarkiness at Adrian wasn’t because of anything he did. It was solely because I caught myself having a soft moment toward him. I quickly tried to right my wrong and offered a timid smile. “Sorry, just a little anxious.”

  “Yeah, so am I. It’s okay. Let me go check to make sure there aren’t any Trackers lurking nearby, and then we can get out of here.”

  Within minutes, his silhouette popped back into the opening of the hole. “Coast is clear.”

  I figured I didn’t need the salt pack anymore, so I pulled it out from under my bodysuit and left it behind. I hoped I wouldn’t need another one as we continued our mission.

  “So, it’s probably safer to avoid the main jet stream as much as possible,” he said. “I don’t know if the Trackers are staked out on it looking for us.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “We can still use it for short periods to rest.” He studied a map he had pulled from beneath his armor. “Eventually we’ll jump onto this jet stream.”

  As he pointed from one line to the other, it reminded me of the subway system of New York City. I wasn’t aware that the system of jet streams down here was so extensive.

  Jet streams provided access to various points in the Atlantic Ocean, Pacific Ocean, the Indian Ocean, and even up into the Arctic Ocean; a place I hoped our travels wouldn’t take us.

  I pinpointed the one that we’d taken from North America to Europe, to the waters off the coast of Portugal. It also connected to another stream that shot across the Mediterranean Sea. Taking that one would bring us near the southern part of Italy, where Adrian informed me Ortygia was.

  As we started the next leg of our journey, I yearned for the jet stream, but I understood why we couldn’t take it. It was just too dangerous, especially in the first few hours of our trip.

  The forty-yard bubble of light was somewhat of a blessing in disguise. Sure, I didn’t like not knowing what was around me, but it also helped us to be more discreet as we cut across the Atlantic Ocean.