Rebel Fires

by Tara Omar

  “I’m not trying to kill you,” said Raphael. “I just…forgot a few quotation marks.”

  “Right,” said David. “You know nothing’s as important as proper punctuation. Next time, save the trouble and just write what you mean.”

  “I did,” said Raphael.

  “Yes, but your intention was for me not to understand and hopefully get myself killed,” said David.

  “If you can’t even figure out the context, it’s very bold of you to be making assertions about my intent,” said Raphael. “You are sounding very petty now. You obviously understood the situation well enough if you’re standing here.”

  “Just… enjoy your tea,” said David.

  “I shall, thank you,” said Raphael. He continued to work his loom as David stormed out, kicking the wall in frustration as the door shut behind him.

  “The lying, cheating, son of a—”

  “David!” called Natalie.

  “Are you sure we can’t check this guy? Like, are you really sure?” asked David.

  Natalie frowned. “What did he say?”

  “He said he doesn’t know if a portal exists or not. He just ‘quoted his fantasy novel.’”

  “Well, you never believed there was a portal in Lion’s Mouth to begin with,” said Natalie.

  “No, but I figured if he is a good mer, it might be true.”

  “Just because he’s a good mer, doesn’t mean he’s always going to be right, David. He probably won’t even always be nice to us. We’ve certainly not been nice to him,” said Natalie.

  “If he’s a good mer. We don’t know for certain.”

  “As I’ve said before, maybe he really believed in a portal when he wrote the letter or sent you for the seaweed. Now that the theory’s sounding less probable, he’s retracting the story.”

  “Doubtful,” grumbled David.

  Natalie smiled. “Remember, you weren’t supposed to exist, David. It’s common for people to make wild assumptions when something defies their previous ones. Anything seems possible in those instances.”

  “So, you’re saying he’s a bit mad?” asked David.

  “I’m saying he might have made a mistake,” said Natalie.

  “Well, I think the mistake was intentional,” said David. “If he wasn’t sure, he should not have been so confident.”

  “Humans are more confident with their assertions about Avinoam with even less evidence,” said Natalie.

  “Couldn’t you say the same about the mers’ Silent One?” asked David.

  Natalie paused, thoughtful.

  “Beneath all music lives a silence,” said Natalie. “Silence carries the universe.”

  “Silence beneath the waves,” said David, thoughtful. “You know some people would call that space ‘nothing.’”

  “Well, after having been treated like ‘nothing’ for so much of your time here, I’m surprised you would be equally as insulting,” said Natalie.

  David smiled.

  “Have you always been this philosophic, or is this the result of your merish mind-reading?”

  “No, this comes from having been raised by my father,” said Natalie.

  David nodded.

  “Why don’t we go check out this place anyway?” asked Natalie. “There’s no harm in seeing for ourselves whether a portal exists in Lion’s Mouth.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be up for it with your new feet? The trail’s supposed to be dangerous,” said David.

  “Meh, it’s about time I started using them. With the right resources and a potent first-aid kit, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” said Natalie.

  David rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “And you’re still standing here,” said Natalie. “Come on, let’s go.”

  C h a p t e r 7 8

  David and Natalie worked their way down the abandoned trail known as Suicide Way, through sharp foliage and broken branches. The mountain shaped like a lion stood at the end of the trail. With each boulder navigated and each vine pushed aside, the mountain grew larger and more intimidating, like a hunter being stalked by its prey. David’s nose itched and his parched throat screamed. He handed Natalie a bottle of water.

  “I thought this would be easier the second time around,” said David. “It’s not.”

  “Here,” said Natalie, handing the bottle back to him. “Just don’t drink too much; we’re going to need it for climbing.”

  “Are you wearing a pocket watch?” asked David, noticing the silver chain leading to her pocket. Natalie shifted, hiding the chain.

  “It’s a timepiece of Raphael’s memories,” said Natalie, looking away. “I didn’t want to leave it behind for someone to find.”

  “Oh, like a 4-D film player?” asked David. “That’s great, Nats. I didn’t think we managed to record any memories. How do they look?”

  “I haven’t seen them yet,” said Natalie, “and I don’t plan to.”

  “Aw, come on, Natalie. Aren’t you being a bit extreme? The mer’s not as fragile as you’re making him out to be.”

  “Are you jealous?” asked Natalie.

  “That you have another mer’s life in your pocket? Of course not, why should I be jealous?” asked David.

  “Well, you could’ve had my life around your finger, if you hadn’t been so difficult,” mumbled Natalie.

  “What?” asked David.

  “Nothing,” said Natalie, rummaging in her backpack. “Would you like some liquorice root?” she asked, holding out a bag. David looked at it.

  “Did you get that from the house?”

  “Yeah, Raphael gave it to me for my allergies,” said Natalie. “It’s supposed to help throat irritations and coughing.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” grumbled David.

  Natalie shrugged and ate her liquorice, while David stared at her pocket. He grumbled, “So do you have a plan for this thing, or is it going to be a permanent fixture?”

  “I’ve been thinking about giving it to Raphael,” said Natalie. “He deserves to know what happened.”

  “Are you mad?” asked David.

  “I feel so guilty having it without consent,” said Natalie.

  “And you think the mer’s just going to say, ‘Oh, no worries, Natalie. I’m usually the private type, but it’s totally okay that you stole my deepest, darkest secrets just so you could infringe on my hospitality in peace.’”

  “Yeah, it probably won’t go down as well as I hope,” said Natalie. “But—”

  “No, don’t even think of it,” said David. “Look at the facts, Nats. The mer sits at home with no social interaction for years at a time. Do you really want to give him an offence over which to stew? It’s not like he has people around to wipe his tears and tell him that despite it all, the world is still a lovely place.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” sighed Natalie. “It’s probably nothing anyway. With all the electrical problems, I doubt we managed to record anything. I’m just carrying it as a precaution.”

  “Well, there is one way to know for sure,” said David, reaching toward her pocket. Natalie kissed his cheek and manoeuvred away from him, taking the lead. “Come on. According to the mosaic in the map room, the best way up the mountain is along the back, where it’s less steep.”

  They hiked past split branches and tore through mangled vines; with each step, the incline beneath their feet gradually increased until the trees disappeared, leaving only a gravelly mound that was nearly impossible to climb. Each metre upward felt like a hard-fought victory. Every misstep sent them sliding at least two metres back; often, it felt like they were barely making any progress at all.

  David drove hooks into the ground and tied clamps around bushes. Natalie tossed packets of water to David, which he squeezed over his wrists until they were wet enough to shoot filament
. He spun thick strands of long, blue rope, which he threaded through the hooks, making a sort of life-line to hold as they fought to pull themselves upward.

  Natalie wheezed.

  “If this is the easy way up, I can’t imagine the steep trail,” said Natalie, slipping on the shifting rock. The rope burned her hands as she struggled to hold it. David smacked his arm.

  “Ow! What was that?” he asked.

  “Probably a mosquito or other biting insect,” said Natalie.

  “But Faerkbërde—ow!—doesn’t have any,” said David. He winced as another bug bit his ear.

  “We’re beyond the tree line, which marks the end of Faerkbërde,” said Natalie. “We’re officially on Lion Mountain.”

  “I wish that were comforting,” said David, smacking his neck. “Are they biting you at all?”

  “No,” said Natalie, “they must just like you.”

  “Of all the things to like me in Aeroth, it has to be the mosquitoes.”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” said Natalie. “We’re almost there.”

  David and Natalie stumbled up to the entrance of a dark cave near the head of the mountain. The land levelled and the air cooled. They sat at the entrance drinking water from their bottles. Natalie pulled a small box filled with white powder from her backpack. She mixed it with water to form a thick paste.

  “Here, let’s see your insect bites,” said Natalie. “This paste will help.”

  “Another tip from Raphael, I presume?” asked David.

  Natalie glared at him.

  “You really are babyish when you’re grumpy, you know that?”

  David sipped his water and didn’t answer.

  “And no, this is common knowledge. Sodium bicarbonate relieves itchy bites.”

  “Oh, thanks,” said David, watching as Natalie smeared the paste onto his blisters. “I feel quite like a fool now for being difficult.”

  “You should,” grumbled Natalie, “but it’s fine. One wrong turn usually leads to a road filled with troubles.”

  David rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you felt even half as bad as all this when you almost killed me.”

  “When did I almost kill you?” asked Natalie.

  “In Spirit Lake, remember?” asked David, recalling the time Natalie had sent him into a cemetery filled with monstrous creatures. Natalie shook her head.

  “Technically, you almost killed yourself, but let’s keep moving. I want to get back as soon as possible.”

  “To Raphael?”

  “Oh, for the sake of Silence, are you seriously going to harass me until I open the timepiece?”

  “That’s the plan, yes,” said David.

  “Well, don’t forget I can just as easily be rid of you as I could listen to you.”

  David laughed. “You’d never do that.”

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Natalie.

  “Because I am the only mer-human-hybrid around,” said David. “Plus, your father likes me.”

  “I could argue that last point if he knew what nonsense you catch on,” grumbled Natalie. David stopped.

  “Sh-sh-sh. Do you hear something?”

  “No,” said Natalie. “What is it?”

  “It’s a voice… It’s coming from your pocket…It’s saying, ‘Let me out…let me—’”

  Natalie whacked his arm. “Seriously, David, this isn’t funny. I swear to you, it’s not.”

  Natalie buried her face in her hands.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” whispered David. “I’ll leave it alone now. I promise.”

  “Do you mean it?” asked Natalie.

  “Nats, you know I do,” said David, hugging her. “I love you, Natalie. I would never want to hurt you.”

  “Right. Same here,” said Natalie, clearing her throat. “Well, let’s get a move on, then.”

  “How are your feet holding up?” asked David.

  Natalie shrugged. “I was perhaps a bit too optimistic about their abilities, but it’s too late to turn back now.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “It’s nothing,” said Natalie.

  David shook his head. “No, this won’t do. Hop up.”

  “What?”

  “Hop onto my back, I’ll carry you for a while.”

  “I can’t do that,” said Natalie. “You’ll tire yourself.”

  “Nats, it’s fine,” said David, bending forward. “Please.”

  Natalie sighed and climbed onto his back, grabbing him around the neck. “You really don’t have to do this.”

  “Of course I do,” said David. “Besides, I have to take care of you now. I can’t risk losing your father’s good will if that’s all that’s keeping me from getting the boot.”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” said Natalie, kissing his cheek.

  “I’d hope so,” said David, grinning.

  He started down the winding tunnel, carrying Natalie on his back. It was dark—almost too dark to see. Natalie squirted the last of their water supply over his wrists. David’s markings glowed blue, illuminating the path through the tunnel. After several turns the tunnel opened to a large, glittering cave bathed in sunlight. Every inch of rock sparkled like gold, and they could almost see the whole of Faerkbërde Forest through an opening. This marked the edge of a steep cliff face, which resembled a golden frame around a landscape painting.

  “So, this is Lion’s Mouth,” said Natalie, sliding from David’s back.

  “And that must be the pool,” said David. He nodded toward a small body of water near the opening of the cave, whose sides seemed to glow with gold. “I don’t see any plants at the bottom of it, though.”

  “This cave seems to contain a large quantity of iron pyrite, which means that pool is filled with—” Natalie screamed.

  “David, WAIT!”

  David fell back. “Sheesh, what’s the matter, Nats?”

  “The gold-coloured rock in this cave is pyrite, also known as—”

  “Fool’s gold. I know,” said David.

  “Yes,” said Natalie. “Fool’s gold dissolves in water to make iron, which is this yellow crust you see along the bottom and edge of the pool, and sulfuric acid.”

  “So the pool—”

  “Isn’t filled with water,” said Natalie. “It’s sulfuric acid. Watch.” She dropped a handkerchief into the pool. As the acid seeped through its fibres, the handkerchief blackened and curled, releasing smoke as it withered into oozy, black goo. Within a few seconds, the handkerchief had completely disappeared, and the pool looked as it had before, with no trace of the destruction that had just occurred.

  David stared at the pool, his eyes wide.

  “Is there a chance that the dissolved handkerchief is reappearing in Paradise?” asked David.

  “I wouldn’t risk my life on it,” said Natalie.

  “Good call,” said David.

  A shiver ran down his spine and the hairs on his neck stood on end. David spun around. He had the sickening feeling that they were not alone. Natalie stared at him.

  “What’s wro—”

  “DUCK!” shouted David. He forced her head downward just as ravenous jaws snapped at the space where her head had been. It disappeared into a dark crevice in the stone as Natalie turned.

  “What was that?” asked Natalie.

  A long, forked tongue slithered out from the crevice. As if in answer to her question, more tongues hissed from the cracks in the stone, with tens more coming from the tunnel where they had entered. Natalie and David huddled together near the pool.

  “Oh, I really hope this is not what I think it is,” said David as he stared into the shadows. The sick feeling in his stomach confirmed it, though. David knew exactly what it was that lurked in the darkness. The foul stench of rotting meat, the slithering tongues and s
tealthy approach could only mean one thing—dragons.

  C h a p t e r 7 9

  Natalie and David backed toward the edge of the acid pool as lizards the size of a fully-grown men crawled from their hiding places and surrounded them, their long tongues hissing as they stalked toward the mers, dripping toxic saliva.

  “Any ideas on what to do?” asked Natalie.

  “Thinking,” said David.

  “Do you recognise this species?” asked Natalie.

  “Yeah, they’re dragons,” said David, “venomous, cannibalistic lizards capable of reaching speeds of up to twenty kilometres an hour in a chase. Serrated teeth…excellent sense of vision and smell…eats most of its bodyweight in a meal…usually kills by ripping out the stomach.…Don’t ask me how I know that.”

  “Any ideas on how to avoid them?” asked Natalie.

  “Not a clue,” said David.

  “That’s unfortunate, especially given we’re out of water.”

  “What? How can we be out of water?”

  “I don’t know, but there’s no water for spinning lassos or anything,” said Natalie. “Maybe, if they’re cannibalistic, we can get them to turn on one another.”

  “At the moment, they’re looking pretty interested in us,” said David, moving his feet. “I mean, I don’t want to be pessimistic, but I don’t see many options apart from bleeding to death.” He jumped to the side as a dragon snapped at his feet, its huge claws shifting on the pyrite as it lunged. Natalie scanned the cave.

  “That is looking rather probable,” said Natalie, “unless…”

  She jumped to a rock in the middle of the acid pool, nearly losing her balance as she landed. David instinctively lunged forward, almost falling into the pool himself.

  “Silence, Nats, what are you doing?” called David. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  “Get over here,” said Natalie. David jumped to an adjacent rock as Natalie rummaged through her backpack. The dragons inched nearer to the pool, whipping their long, powerful tails as they watched them from the edge. Natalie pulled a folded cylinder from the bag and snapped it together, forming a large bazooka. David stared at her.

  “What?” asked Natalie. “Sasha lent it to me.”