Bishta the Black

by Jada Fisher

  He threw his arms around her. She gasped but didn’t try to fight him. In fact, she hugged him back. When she pulled away, she was smiling wide with tears in her eyes.

  “Look, I found them.”

  He knew what she meant. Members of her tribe were hugging and celebrating and looking around in confusion all around her. She was right. She had finally returned to her people, and they had their chief back.

  “I’m glad.”

  Now he had to find his own. If she found hers, then his couldn’t have been far since they came together from his village. Now where are they…

  “Baerdon?”

  That single word, his name, that voice. He almost cried. He turned, and there was his brother Tyther standing amidst the confusion, and with him, several of his tribe.

  They didn’t need any more words. The two brothers ran for each other and then slammed together chest to chest, their muscular arms entwining around them. Baerdon embraced his brother tightly and found tears racing down his cheeks in heavy torrents.

  “Rosk preserve me, you’re okay.”

  It took Tyther a moment to recover his wits from whatever spell had controlled him, but when he did, his grip was tight as he held Baerdon back. Soon, they were both crying and laughing.

  “Glad you made it back in one piece,” Baerdon told him.

  Tyther snorted. “Says the man that’s been on a world-spanning magical quest for weeks. I was almost certain you were dead in some far away land.”

  “I came close, believe me.”

  As Baerdon looked around at the welcome familiar faces of his tribe, as well as those of other tribes that he knew, he wondered something important.

  “Where’s Da?”

  But Tyther didn’t get a chance to answer, because a deep, gravelly voice did it for him. “Right here,” they said. And Baerdon went still. He turned, his heart leaping.

  There he was. His father.

  Da…

  He was alive, fine. Better than fine. His father was standing, not bedridden or sickly, but standing, looking stronger than he had in years. He swayed when the soul thief left his body, but he recovered, his legs shaky before going firm, and he stood.

  “B-Baerdon? You’re back?”

  For the first time in a while, Baerdon allowed himself to cry, and he made the space between them vanish. He engulfed his da in a fierce hug so strong that it probably hurt, sickness or no. His father grunted from the impact, but then laughed and squeezed him back with all his remaining strength.

  “I feared for a while that I wouldn’t ever see you again. You and Keet were gone for so long.”

  “I know. I know.” Baerdon pulled back but kept his hands planted on Lorrick’s shoulders. “There’s so much to tell you. So much that I’ve seen and experienced that you wouldn’t believe.”

  Da chuckled, and he lacked the cough that usually accompanied any expression of mirth. Baerdon wondered if this was a permanent fix, or if he’d find his dad on death’s door again soon enough. He had to pray to Rosk that he’d get to keep his father for a little while longer.

  “I’d love to hear all about it.”

  “Yeah, once we’re safely on the road back to the village,” Tyther cut in, and he was right. They couldn’t stay here forever. They were far from home.

  Both his brother and father looked like they wanted to say more, but they were silenced by an approaching commotion.

  A rush of gossip and chatter cut through the massive gathering. Slowly, like something parting the surface of a lake, the crowd rippled and gave way to a flash of green and red. Gayla, looking tired but happy, her cheeks rosy and straining from her smile. Tuk trailed her wake, though Maedon was gone. No doubt to find his wife and friends.

  Gayla stopped before him and Ivara and his family and crossed her arms, her staff jutting from beneath her grip.

  “You survived,” she said simply.

  “And you freed everyone.”

  She grinned wider. “All in a day’s work for a sage, wouldn’t you say?”

  Baerdon laughed. Yes, she could do some truly incredible things. He didn’t know where they’d be without her help. Well, he did know, and he really didn’t want to think of that bleak line of possibilities.

  “I don’t know how we can ever thank you, Sage.” Baerdon bowed. “You brought us all the way home and helped us find our families, even when you had a mission so much more important than this.”

  She smiled and looked at her bare feet. He could have sworn that she was blushing. “It’s no problem. I’d be a poor Sage of the Earth if I didn’t face something this big. I cannot address every little fire, but a brushfire like this required my attention. Without me, the whole of the Human Plains may well have been taken by the hikariva. And who knows what those thieves would have done.”

  Her gaze went southwest, her smile grew. “Besides, even though the world is devolving into chaos as we speak, I know I have allies that are working so hard to keep everything right. They could hold the fort a little while in my absence.”

  Baerdon nodded. He had a feeling she was talking about Tuni and Asoka, and probably others. He hoped they were doing okay.

  Gayla was introduced to Tyther and Da and a slew of others that wanted to make her acquaintance. Some wanted her to stay for a celebration, though Baerdon personally didn’t think that was a great idea. Yes, everyone was a comrade at the moment, prisoners of the same trauma, but soon everyone would realize all the rivals and enemies that were present, and he didn’t want to see a huge fight break out, not with so many women and children.

  Constant warfare was a staple of the Human Plains. He was used to it, but he wished for it to not be the case on this day.

  Thankfully, Gayla turned that down, putting a stop to the bad idea. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m afraid I must depart.”

  Baerdon frowned and scratched behind Tuk’s ears, who sat between him and his father. “You’ll leave us so soon?”

  “I’m afraid I must get back to Tuni and the others. I fear they might be in danger.” She didn’t elaborate on what that might mean for those who knew nothing of her or her duties, but Baerdon was certain she was speaking of Bishta. Nope, there were no days off for the Sage of the Earth.

  “Well, again you have our eternal thanks, Madam Sage,” Ivara said, bowing deep.

  “If you ever need our help, don’t hesitate to call on us,” Baerdon added.

  Gayla smirked and gave her flowery staff a twirl. “I fear before this is all over, we may just have to call on your aid.”

  “And if you do, we will be ready.”

  She nodded. “Until then, I wish you the best of luck.”

  “And the same to you,” Ivara said.

  Gayla’s gaze swept over the crowd, over Baerdon and Ivara and his family and Tuk. Her smile became sad, though he could wager a guess as to why. Maybe she didn’t think she’d see them again? He supposed in a perfect world, one in which she and the other sages defeated Bishta, she wouldn’t. She’d stay immortal, and he and his people would grow old and die and she’d never see them again.

  He hoped he would see her, though. He hoped he’d see Asoka and Tuni too. They were a couple of fun girls and no doubt they’d show his tribe how to celebrate.

  Finally, with that fading smile of hers, she summoned the same spell that had transported them from the isles back to the plains, and she disappeared in a whirlwind of grass and flower petals. People gasped in awe at the display. He wasn’t surprised. The tribes of the plains were not used to magic.

  And just like that, the Sage of the Earth was gone, off to fight more battles in a race to save their world.

  In the grand scheme of things, Baerdon wondered if he’d done enough in that fight, if he even mattered, but he knew that he did. Even if all he did was a little help here and there, all help had an impact, and he would sleep well knowing that he and Ivara had risked their lives and given their all to change this world and put everything right.

  That
was all he could ask of himself.

  One day, he would see the sage again, and all the friends he’d met along the way, and they’d have a proper celebration. Until then, Baerdon Lorrickson would wait patiently with the people he loved.

  And he would smile the whole time.

  9

  Tuni

  Tuni and Asoka stayed in a cave that Asoka had desperately teleported them to. Well, the cave was near that field of red grass that Tuni remembered them appearing in after she used that water teleportation spell. That hadn’t felt good. They’d have to do it again, and Tuni wasn’t looking forward to the experience.

  It took a few days for Tuni’s wounds to heal enough with Asoka’s magic. Thankfully, the mer sage didn’t need to cast any more spells, so her hand didn’t get any worse, but it didn’t get better either. As it was, it stayed withered and ruined, and every time she saw it, Tuni felt a pang of guilt.

  It didn’t matter how many times Asoka assured her of the contrary. She felt it was her fault.

  Once Tuni was well enough to be up and walking, albeit with a good amount of strain and discomfort, they headed out. Asoka wanted to let her rest more, but Tuni wouldn’t allow it. Time was not a luxury they could afford. Bishta could find them at any moment. They had to move, had to find Shandi and Dorrick. Maybe Gayla was back already. Either way, they had to leave this blasted cave.

  It was morning, and the sky was a strange mix of dark clouds and sun—a blending of dark and light that Tuni didn’t take as a good sign. She and Asoka walked away from the cave, Tuni staggering with her wound. Asoka had made her a crutch from a large piece of wood she’d found. She’d used a hardening spell to make it sturdy so it wouldn’t break under Tuni’s weight. It was a very appreciated gesture.

  They hiked down the hill from the rocky caves and came to the field of red grass. It swayed in the gentle morning breeze and looked oddly serene with the mountains and mushroom stalks far in the distance.

  As they walked into the grass, lapping at their knees like wading into the surf, Tuni gave Asoka a sideways glance. “So why did we have to walk out here in order to use your spell?”

  She shrugged and flashed a crooked grin. “No reason. I just thought you needed to get out and get your feet under you first. See some scenery. All the stuff you like.”

  “Oh. Yeah, thanks for that,” she said, her cheeks flushing. Asoka was right, she did enjoy this area of the wilds. If they even were in the wilds still. She didn’t know if it technically qualified but regardless, it was beautiful. She was glad Asoka still retained her easygoing nature, despite everything.

  If she lived to be Gayla’s age, would she stay like that? Gayla had, but there was no telling what kinds of things Asoka would experience and how they may change her. Of course, Tuni would be long gone to see most of it. She didn’t like to think of that, that her friend wouldn’t age, would live for many, many years beyond Tuni’s life, fulfilling her duty to the world as the Sage of the Seas.

  Yes, best not to think of that.

  Finally, they came to a stop in the middle of the sea of red grass. It was so pretty here, so perfect. Tuni could lie on her back and let the grass lick her skin and sigh with contentment and wait for the rain to fall. But she didn’t. They had places to be.

  Asoka smiled as she looked west at the mountains and the greater Spirit Wilds. All of this was new to her, the young mer that had only known the sea and the islands that made up her home. She was taking it all in very well, from what Tuni could tell. Better than Tuni would have. Asoka let out a sigh, then turned and faced Tuni so that they were face to face, a hand’s-width of space between their chests.

  “You ready?”

  “For the crushing weight of water to smash my head and take me away? Absolutely.”

  Asoka chuckled. “Don’t be so dramatic. You were fine last time.”

  “I was also dying and barely aware of what was going on and didn’t know it was coming. This time I know, and bracing myself isn’t going to help.”

  “Tuni, Tuni, Tuni. You’ll be fine. Just a little wet.”

  Tuni rolled her eyes, though it was hard to contain her grin. “My sensible wildling body isn’t used to the crushing weight of water like yours is.”

  Asoka sniggered, her cheeks dimpling. She reached out and playfully pinched Tuni’s arm. “Hey, you’re a mer now, remember. This will be nothing.”

  That made Tuni’s cheeks heat again. She was right—Tuni had tasted from that glorious cup, that amazing feeling for swimming freely in the deep. She’d been mer. It had been maybe one of the best days of her life.

  Tuni sighed with a small smirk. “If you say so. Ready when you are.”

  “Here, let me make it easier on you. Grab my staff.”

  Asoka raised her rough coral staff and held it horizontally between them. She held it tenderly, with the reverence of a priest holding an item of worship. Maybe. Tuni didn’t know much about religion. Tuni lifted a hand reluctantly before finally gripping the staff between Asoka’s hands. Tuni’s eyes immediately went to the gray-skinned, withered excuse of a hand that just barely gripped the staff.

  She gulped. Don’t think about that now. She fixed Asoka with a confident stare and tried to keep that same attitude in her voice. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.”

  Asoka closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As she did, some of the early morning sun peeked out from beyond the storm clouds and illuminated the field with rays of light. One such ray caught them both, bathing them in warmth and brightness. Asoka’s scales glittered brilliantly, and she looked like the most beautiful creature in all the wilds.

  Oh, to look like a glittering mermaid all the time.

  Finally, the young sage released her breath and spoke the spell that had allowed them to escape from Bishta’s wrath.

  “Gi va ocea nelga.”

  There was no buildup, no time to brace herself beyond the half-second after those words were said, because a block of water crashed down on them, wracking Tuni’s bones and putting weight on her shoulders that did not feel good. She gasped again like she had the first time and still marveled how this didn’t drown her.

  When she opened her eyes this time, she found herself back in the wilds she knew. It was dark here, as the sun had yet to rise over the mountains, and this deep in the mushrooms, there wouldn’t be too much light anyway until mid-morning.

  She let go of the staff and stumbled back, her wound flaring and her legs almost giving out beneath her. Water dripped from her, making her heavier and putting more strain on her body. She leaned on her makeshift crutch, grateful for the much-needed support.

  “Easy,” Asoka said.

  Easy for you to say.

  Once she gathered herself, she looked around again, and familiarity flooded her senses. They were back at Gayla’s hut…or what was left of it. It was still a mess of rubble. Trees and stalks were felled all around, so when the sun did come, it was going to be a lot brighter than it used to be. Tuni hiked up the hill slowly, taking in the small bits of earth torn up here and there from that giant spirit’s footsteps.

  She stopped at the doorway. It was now a gaping hole. She almost cracked when she saw the precious garden had been crushed. Of course, there were more crops in the northern fields were Gayla grew most of her ingredients for potions, as well as their food, but this small garden had always been her favorite. It was filled with some of Gayla’s favorite flowers to, thus why she kept it so close.

  Tuni winced as she dropped to a knee in the dark, upturned soil. It was cool on her skin. She reached out and picked out a withered yellow flower with fading orange accents on the petals. The long orange stamen in the middle were droopy and pathetic now. Dragon’s tongue, they were called.

  The rest of the flowers were in a similar state of destruction and death. All wilting and fading.

  Her shoulders sagged and for some reason, tears came to her eyes. She’d lost her first home. Her true home and family. She was somewhat over t
hat, or at least growing to accept that. But now her new home was destroyed too, and her new family was scattered to the winds.

  Why? Why, why, why?

  A hand reached out and gripped her shoulder. It was firm and reassuring. Asoka. “I’m sorry, Toon.”

  Tuni covered her hand with her own. “It’s okay.” She pushed to her feet with some effort and brushed the dirt off her knee. “Let’s get to it. We know Shandi and Dorrick headed west.” She started down the hill but stopped when she didn’t hear Asoka on her heels. She turned and raised eyebrow.

  “Should you maybe leave a letter for Gayla if she returns while we’re away? She’s going to have some serious questions if she finds this place like this.”

  “Oh, yeah I suppose I should.”

  Asoka nodded. “Take as much time as you need.”

  The mer turned and stood in the early morning light. It was getting brighter, even though the sky was still a sheet of black clouds.

  With a sigh, Tuni hobbled through the rubble and managed to find some parchment and an intact inkwell and quill. Her wet clothes and the humidity was making her feel sticky and stifled. Not a good combination.

  For a long time, her hand hovered over the blank page, unable to figure out what to write. So much had happened. In reality, it had only been a couple of weeks since Gayla had teleported away with the two warriors Baerdon and Ivara. Obviously, something had happened to keep her occupied.

  Are you even alive? That thought was quickly dashed from her mind. Gayla was the most powerful being on this earth. She wouldn’t be killed so easily. And even if she was killed, somehow, Tuni had a feeling she’d know when that happened.

  No, the Girl O’ Green was alive. She was just a little preoccupied with something important. She’d return.

  Finally, with a smile as her nerves settled, Tuni seemed to find the right words and began to write.

  Gayla,

  If you’re reading this, then please know that I’m alive. After Amoloth brought us here, Bishta showed up and attacked us. Asoka and I were both wounded, but we managed to fight her off. She’ll probably be back looking for us, or maybe looking for you. I don’t know, but just know that we’re okay. We’re going west to look for Shandi and Dorrick who went to resolve some issue between the tree folk and city folks. I hope to see you soon and in good health.