A Song in the Rain

by Lydia Deyes

  Without those…

  “Barrie?” I was suddenly hyper-aware of the silence of my voice in the real world. “What do you see on the cliff there, behind us?” He looked, then glanced down at me from his lookout point, his eyes wide with fear. This was no vision. The wolves were real.

  I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, hoping to see whether they’d spotted us. Immediately, I saw the murky smoke, wrapped around the young, dark wolf… who looked straight into my eyes. He turned and gave his father a terrible glare, and the two of them sprung forward. Pulling myself out of the vision, I saw that the wolves were now on the move. “Run, Samuel!” I shouted. “Run! The wolves are coming!”

  Violet dove to cling to Samuel’s back beside me as he launched forward, picking up speed. Barrie flew over the ravine beside us. We sped down the crooked path, Samuel kicking rocks into the canyon. As we drew to a point where the road wound again into the hills, Samuel skidded to a stop. Another wolf pack was bearing down on us from that direction. I could feel the vibration from their paws hitting the ground as they made towards us at full speed. The two packs joined edges, then slowed down and crept towards us. We were trapped. In front and to our left were angry wolves. To the right, an outcropping of the mountain range blocked the way. Behind us was the steep ravine. Samuel’s paw slipped on the edge, but he regained his footing. I could almost see the thoughts spinning through his mind. He shuddered.

  “Samuel…”

  Before I could finish my thought, Samuel took a deep breath, then launched himself off the edge, taking me and my sister with him. Out of shock, we both let go. The scarred wolf pounced forward and managed to snag Samuel’s fur, leaving a long gash on the lynx’s hind leg, but it was too late. The wolf had to stop to balance himself, his prey lost.

  Violet, Barrie, and I dove to follow Samuel as if we were of one mind. We grabbed the skin at the scruff of his neck and pumped our wings as hard as we could in a desperate attempt to slow his falling. He crashed into a wispy tree and grasped at its branches, but it ripped from the canyon wall. I lost my hold on Samuel right before he hit the water, my fear of the substance temporarily drowning out the fear of losing my mentor. He cried out in pain; the impact with the water stripped patches of fur off his legs and belly. I had to dip and dive to catch up with the other three as they were swept away in the current. Samuel’s head drooped, and Barrie struggled to keep it above the water. Gasping, the three of us scanned the banks for a way out. When I looked ahead, my heart dropped. The water ended in a clean line. A waterfall. Beyond it was more of the ravine.

  How did the rest of the ravine form if the river plummets in the middle? I wondered, but had no time to dwell on it.

  “Come on, Samuel, wake up!” I shouted, hoping my words carried over the sound of the water. “You have to swim!”

  Samuel kicked, slowly at first, then with more vigor, fighting his fatigue with incredible willpower. Violet, Barrie, and I refused to leave his side. We pumped our wings, attempting to slow his speed down the river while he tried to move sideways. But now, the current was too strong. I could feel the shift in Samuel’s shoulders when his rear claws grazed the bottom, but he couldn’t get a grip. It wasn’t enough, and we all toppled over the edge. As we did this, I felt a mixture of terror and awe. The waterfall appeared to be endless. It went down and down into a hole in the ground, until it disappeared into a cloud of billowing steam. Before any of us could react, the hole swallowed us up, and we plunged into darkness.

  X

  We fell for an incredibly long time in the pitch blackness beside the waterfall. It was terribly cold, and we were all soaking wet from the spray. Every new droplet of water that touched me caused me to shiver in fear.

  “Are you okay, Samuel?” I asked. When I heard no response, I considered the vibrations of the air from the powerful waterfall, and shouted instead. “Samuel! Are you okay?”

  “Yes…” he responded. “If you ignore being soaked to the bone and uncontrollably falling to who knows where.”

  “Violet? Barrie?” I strained my eyes in the darkness, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “They are here, too,” Samuel’s voice echoed in my mind. Though I breathed a sigh of relief, I felt incredibly lonely, unable to see my companions. My mentor, my sister, my friend. I was glad to know they were here, but worried I might never get to see them again.

  Then it happened. The darkness gave way to light, and suddenly we were surrounded by a world of bright colors… in what seemed to be a large underground cave. The waterfall impossibly rounded and slowed, and we rode gently into a calm pool at the bottom.

  There must be magic here.

  Exhausted from our long plunge, we dragged ourselves out to dry. Everyone looked fine despite the ordeal, though dripping wet and gasping for breath. “It’s good to be able to see you guys again,” I said to Violet and Barrie.

  My sister and best friend merely nodded in response, but I knew what they meant. “Good to see you too, Sheer.”

  For a moment, we recovered in stunned silence. The walls of the cave were lined with glowing plants that produced enough light to make it seem like a cloudy day on the surface. The waterfall that defied physics ended in a gentle, bubbling brook, which circled around the entire perimeter of the space. It stayed at the same level, despite constantly being fed with more raging water. We were surrounded by foliage of all imaginable colors and shapes. Some plants had huge, leathery, yellow leaves behind which Samuel could easily have concealed himself; others had hundreds of tiny, spiky, red ones barely the size of a beetle. Dozens of species of fruit I’d never seen before hung heavy on each and every bush and tree. And in the middle of all of this was an enormous tree, stretching taller than the building with the thirteenth floor, all the way to the roof of the cave.

  “Have you ever seen anything like this?” I asked Samuel.

  He shook his head. “I’ve seen magic, Sheer, but nothing like this. Keep your wits about you. I don’t like it.” Then he suddenly ducked low to the ground. “Hush,” he said, projecting his words into my mind since I couldn’t read his expression anymore. “Something’s coming.”

  I kept my body still and stared out above the grass. Then I saw what Samuel had heard. In the distance, a line of strange blue monkeys, just like those in my visions, were approaching. They moved in an odd march, their footsteps perfectly in sync. We watched them continue on their way, passing before us from the right, and I thought perhaps they hadn’t seen us. But just as they’d made their way off to our left, they stopped.

  One monkey, the one in the front, split off from the group and sniffed the air. She drew closer to us, and I could tell she was about three times my size. Stopping short, she stared directly at Samuel, then pointed at him and called to the troop. The way she spoke was unfamiliar and rigid, and I couldn’t understand exactly what she’d said. As all of them turned in unison to look in our direction, my heart pounded against my chest. We’d been spotted.

  Since hiding did us no good anymore, Samuel rose up and warily approached the creature. She was clearly surprised by his size and stumbled backwards. I couldn’t see what he was saying from my perspective, but I supposed he must have asked to see the leader of this strange place. I shivered.

  What if the snake is here?

  The monkey bent to the side, spotting me behind the lynx, then bent the other way to look at Violet and Barrie on his other side. When our eyes met, I felt as though I somehow knew this creature. She looked back at Samuel, then nodded and motioned for him to follow her. Without any apparent command, the rest of the monkeys immediately turned and continued off in the same direction they’d been traveling before.

  Samuel beckoned for the rest of us to follow the blue monkey. She led us to the central tree, up a spiral staircase on the outer side that seemed to be a part of the bark itself. She took us to the very top. The tree was so huge, even the highest branches were large enough for Samuel to straddle comfortably. After seating us on a branch, she l
eft. Several minutes later, she returned, panting from the second climb, with a large bark slab piled with a variety of fruit. Each one was enticing, colorful, and split in half, ready to eat.

  Realizing how hungry I was, I picked an oblong one with a hole in the center. It was covered in spikes, with soft yellow flesh on the inside. I was about to take a bite when Samuel’s voice echoed in my head. “No, Sheer!” he barked. “We don’t know what this fruit is. We shouldn’t trust it. Let’s just wait and see whether we can meet with the leader of this place. I want to get to the bottom of all of this.”

  I chuckled, since we seemed to be quite literally at the bottom of the world, then sat back to wait. As I tried to think of something to do to distract me from my aching stomach, I remembered that I’d been unable to see the cobra in my visions due to the presence of the wolves. Now that we were far away from the wolves, maybe I had a better chance. I closed my eyes, finally willing to have the vision I’d been waiting for. To my surprise, it came immediately and was more vivid than any I’d ever had before.

  ◆◆◆

  I saw the snake, as clearly as if she were right in front of me, surrounded by the same mysterious smoke. I could see each of her individual scales, every flicker of her tongue, every twitch of her eyes and tail. The sparrow beside her was also in full detail. Her eyes were clouded over, and as she stood, her body slowly wavered from side to side. I distinctly heard the soft rustling as the snake’s scaly body shifted against the ground, and I shivered. It felt unnatural to hear something so precisely.

  The snake was still in the hollowed tree, which I’d seen before, but suddenly seemed too familiar. A tiny blue monkey came into the space, trembling in the presence of the snake. He bowed deeply, but she coiled quickly in front of him, flaring her hood and casting him in shadow.

  “What are you doing here, ssslave?”

  “Lady Nyoka,” he said, trembling. His voice was peculiar, a much higher pitch than I would have expected from a mammal, even a small one. Then again, my only frame of reference is Samuel. I dismissed my thoughts and focused on the vision as the monkey creature continued. “I’m sorry to intrude. There are some strange visitors from the Upper World here. We have given them the traditional welcome and, upon request of the lynx, promised your presence. One seems different from the rest. His eyes are odd.”

  The cobra settled back, thinking. Then she responded, flicking her tongue as she spoke. “Thank you, Mathiasss. Thisss isss indeed very interesssting. You are disssmissssed.”

  “Thank you, Lady Nyoka.” The creature then left with another solemn bow.

  “Come, my apprenticcce,” hissed Nyoka, turning to the sparrow. “We have sssome visitorsss to greet.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Even though it was only two words, the sparrow’s voice was so sweet and beautiful, I wished I could hear more. Before I had the chance, my vision ended.

  Back in the real world again and surrounded by silence, I was stunned at what I’d witnessed. I shook my head to clear it and spun to face my companions. “The snake… Nyoka. She’s here! And the sparrow seems to think Nyoka is her mother.”

  When I turned back around, Nyoka was already slithering up the wooden staircase. Her so-called apprentice wasn’t far behind, oddly mimicking the side-to-side slithering motion. As Nyoka’s head crested the top of the stairs and she slithered onto the large branch where we rested, everyone stood at rapt attention. Violet hid behind Barrie, and Samuel widened his stance defensively.

  When the snake spoke, her words and body language were so different from other animals I’d met, it was difficult to understand her. I’d learned a little about her body motions from this last vision, but I could still barely guess what she was saying: “Welcome to my world.”

  Turning at the gentle rumbling of Samuel’s voice, I watched him speak a word of greeting. He was careful to appear friendly, though I knew he was apprehensive. I wondered whether Nyoka was speaking Kisalan or Montin. Samuel hadn’t implied he knew any other languages, but I didn’t think either would be the native language of a snake. Perhaps she’d also learned to speak a second language? That would make sense, I realized, since all of her slaves are monkeys, and because her apprentice is a sparrow. She probably speaks Kisalan. I glanced over to Violet and Barrie; they didn’t seem to be having any trouble understanding her. Definitely Kisalan.

  When I turned back to Nyoka, she flared her hood in defense. Samuel must have spoken her name, which she hadn’t provided. “That doesn't matter,” Samuel replied to her comment, dropping nearly all pretense of friendliness and gesturing instead to the blue monkey behind us, and to the dozens walking around below. “You have surrounded yourself with helpless slaves that do not belong here. Where did they come from?”

  I tried to pay attention to their conversation, but I was suddenly overcome with another vision. I tried to push it away, but it was too strong. When I submitted to it, I was surprised to be in the same place. Everything was moving in slow motion. I saw Nyoka, surrounded by the murky darkness that was pulsing with strength. She had the rat’s tail and whiskers again. Her stance threatened Samuel, and the strange smoke around her tried without success to wrap itself around him. I saw my sister, my friend, and the tiny blue monkey. As I watched, the latter began to transform. Her skin peeled off her, revealing a different body underneath. First a beak, then feathers, then wings, then slender feet. She’d taken on the form of a sparrow that strongly resembled an older version of my sister. Time slowed even further, and I could feel my heart’s individual beats even as I heard her name whispered by a sudden breeze.

  Reika. Mother.

  XI

  The vision faded. Nyoka lost the rat’s whiskers and tail, though I knew they were merely hidden; Reika was once more a tiny blue monkey slave. I wanted to save her from this, but I didn’t know how. She’d been lost for so long, she clearly didn’t recognize me or Violet. Had she lost her memory, like I had? Or was it suppressed? Completely forgetting I was in the presence of an enemy, I called out to her.

  “Reika?”

  My enslaved mother, Nyoka, and my friends all turned to face me. Violet’s eyes widened, recognizing the name, and she spun her head from side to side, seeking our mother. The cobra coiled tightly in fear and anger, and the others’ eyes read curiosity and confusion. None of them knew who I was speaking to — my mother didn’t recognize her own name. My heart clenched in my chest. I knew how that felt.

  “Reika,” I repeated, locking eyes with her enchanted form. “Mother?”

  Suddenly, my mother’s body transformed, just like it had in my vision. Fur turned to feathers, muzzle to beak, arms to wings. In a matter of moments, she was her true sparrow self, free from bondage. She shook her head and stared at her surroundings, then at her wings, her toes. She glanced at me and Violet, her eyes flashing with joy before settling on Nyoka and shifting to fear.

  I turned back in time to see Nyoka rise up swiftly, fanning her hood to its fullest and preparing to strike. She moved so quickly that her “apprentice,” who was standing immediately behind her, startled and began to fall from the large branch where we were all perched. The helpless sparrow barely even flapped her wings to save herself. Nyoka halted, now distracted. I remembered that in my visions, the young sparrow had never flown — and now she never would. She was falling to her death.

  Before anyone could react, Samuel leapt from the branch, plummeting after the sparrow.

  “No!” I shouted, but it was too late.

  Because Samuel had jumped after the sparrow so quickly, he was able to catch up with her in mid-air. Deftly maneuvering despite his age, he stretched his neck and snatched her in his mouth just before hitting the ground. His front legs touched down first, and he crumpled upon impact.

  “No!” I shouted again, as if I could rewind time. I flew down to where he’d landed. The dirt was stained red, but from the left side, he seemed uninjured. “Samuel! Are you okay?”

  The ground vibrated with his groan. Samuel opened
his jaw and coughed. The sparrow tumbled out, shaking her feathers. She stood, dazed, looking from side to side.

  “Samuel?” I repeated, pushing against his muzzle with the side of my beak.

  “I need to get to the river,” he finally responded. He spoke through gritted teeth, and I was glad he could echo his words inside my head. Without that, I wouldn’t have been able to understand anything other than that he was speaking — though that was certainly a good sign. The old lynx grimaced as he pushed himself up, then yelped and collapsed again. “I need to wash the wound,” Samuel said, trying to stand again. I flew to his right side, wishing I was strong enough to help. He trembled as he rose, revealing his broken front limb. Part of his bone was sticking through his skin, and his fur was clotted with blood. Horrified, I recoiled from the sight. I closed my eyes and nearly retched.

  Suddenly, the air smelled different. A breeze wafted past, crisp and clean. I opened my eyes and gaped. Samuel was gone. So were my friends, the tree, and all the strange foliage. I spun around, taking in my surroundings.

  A vision? Not now!

  I tried to shake myself from it, but nothing happened. I let out a shout, but no sound fell on my ears. This wasn’t a vision. This was real… but how?

  I was standing atop a massive pile of rocks. On my left stretched a long lake, waves sloshing at my feet. On my right, a dry ravine wound through the landscape until it disappeared into the horizon. I looked up, and my heart stopped. Those were the mountains we’d passed through before falling down the waterfall. I could even see the precipice where we’d been cornered by the wolves. My eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t a lake; this was the river. There must have been a landslide that collapsed into the ravine, forming a dam.