by Kamilla Reid
“We did it!” Root fell on her back, sponging up the mist that rose over the cliff. She stretched out her tongue to catch its cool, salty spray.
Yes!
Pilsnips had found it on their descent. A leak in the cliff’s side. And now they all Hovered to it, taking turns pressing their lips to its gorgeous liquid life, gulping, sucking it in. The cool, fresh water seemed to fall from their throats directly to their feet as if their insides had wasted away. It took a long time to hydrate, to plump up what had shriveled. But they were in no hurry.
On the beach, under Lian’s direction, they gathered Dimplings. The squishy, sea-bleached leftovers of the Sea Wings were evidently loaded in nutrition and thankfully littered across the shoreline. They popped in the mouth with ease, offering a juicy, meaty burst of tang. Root loaded her cheeks and went for more.
Everyone, Hovers and CPRs included took respite in the shaded belly of a Behemoth clamshell. A breeze as refreshing as hope swept in and out and in and out…
The Bellatonian forest receded back into the stuff of dreams.
After a brief interaction with the broken Road, indicating that there could possibly, maybe- maybe not, be two routes to Divit both of which were ambiguously described as “…several jaunts…wind…sand fleas…” the Valadors realized they had to decide on their own. It made sense that, of the two routes, one would be along the shoreline and the other across the sea. Root and Lian settled on route two, across the sea. It would be a lot faster. But Dwyn was adamant that following the shoreline was the way to go. Safer for one thing. His teammates knew it was his fear of the water but pointing that out was asking for a fight. In the end they resorted to the choosing of lots.
Lian won.
He buffered Dwyn’s immediate panic by sharing the delightful properties of an Ekladian sponge. It sucked up the salty seawater and, when squeezed, sprang forth a stream of condensed pink nectar.
“Hey, that looks like the stuff that Bumplekins gave us!” Root said.
“It is.”
Dwyn calmed down a bit. Their stay at the great Natruid’s secret cottage had been so many months ago, and yet he hadn’t forgotten how the hair had raised across his skin at his first sip, the way his blood emboldened and he felt like he could run the whole of DréAmm.
Lian offered the first cup to him.
Dwyn caved. You just can’t stay mad at Lian Blick, with his big, goofy eyes all friend-y and peace offering. Besides, it wasn’t Lian’s fault that he was a big, fat water chicken. He accepted the cup, hoping it would stop the trembling in his stomach.
Half out to sea the first inklings of doubt crept in. It was taking way longer than they had expected. And now the sun seemed to be draining away into a red whirlpool at the horizon. At first they hovered close to the water but a strong wind came in and with it an upsurge in waves that could easily swallow one whole. The sky remained faithfully clear so there was no concern for a storm, thank goodness. But still, the swelling of the sea was danger enough. The team took the Hovers to maximum height, enough to slip most of the wind and wave’s collision. How long it would last was anyone’s guess. One thing was clear, however, darkness wasn’t going to wait to find out.
Dwyn said nothing. The white of his knuckles said enough.
A mere vein of sun streaked across the horizon now, with the same bloodshot red that rimmed the eyes of its weary travelers. They should have rested. Even stayed a night on shore first. But who’d’ve thought it would take this long? They would never have made the Hovers travel this if they’d known it was so far. Lian chided himself. He should have known better. His eyes were stinging with salt. Nothing could be seen of land. Root’s fingers were cramped from clutching and the Hovers were beyond exhausted. What were they thinking?
Lian was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t see the wave.
And then he was gone.
“Lian!” Root screamed as she saw him and Pilsnips disappear under the wall of water. She and Dwyn raced over but the wave was gone, back into the belly of the ocean, their dear friend with it. Root looked at Dwyn. His eyes were saucered, his face pale.
“I’m going in!” Root said and gestured Stogie closer to the water where she could spring board off. CPR squirmed as Root tried to steady herself. “No, CPR! You stay!”
Before Root could say anything further a splash rose from the sea.
“No!”
In the dwindling light all Root could see was Dwyn’s dark streak. Deeper he went until he too was swallowed in eternal ocean. She held her breath. Her eyes darted about, searching for movement. Her heart thumped in her ears, a distorted counting of seconds that felt like hours.
A fountain of spray rose high in the air to her right and Lian appeared flung over the back of a dolphin. Dwyn had done it! A full underwater Molding! Root grabbed Lian and pulled him up coughing and sputtering for breath. “Pilsnips.” He rasped.
Dwyn sunk back into the water. Again Root raged against time as she kept one eye on Lian and the other on the rolling watery hills. Her own breath escaped her as she imagined Pilsnips under the….no! He has to make it!
Another streak of silver. Dwyn was leaping through the waves, searching.
Oh, please, god. Please let him be okay!
A wave broke open. “Pilsnips! Dwyn, he’s there!” Root pointed at the great paws thrashing, the whites of Pilsnips eyes stricken with terror. And then he was under again.
“No!” Lian screamed. “Pilsnips!”
Dwyn dove.
He came up empty. He dove again. Root watched his silvery body get slower and slower. He was exhausted. But he dove again, deeper. Root scanned for life. The sea was dappled in remnants of sunset, red on red on black. Nothing broke it up. Nothing moved for so bloody long. Her eyes stung with tears.
Dwyn finally surfaced and pushed himself toward them, the silver of his body leaving him. His eyes were filled with despair. “I can’t hold the Mold. I can’t…”
His eyes met Lian’s. Nothing could be said. Nothing.
Time cannot be measured in the seize of anguish. It really does stop. As does sound. All that exists is a desperate plea from behind the eyes. A fending off of truth and torment.
The only thing that starts the clock again is time itself.
Or a miracle…
“What’s that?” Lian lifted his head.
They turned.
It was moving very fast. Straight for them.
“Get on Hana!” Root yelled at Dwyn.
“But Pilsnips!”
“He’s….gone, Dwyn. Get on.” Lian cried.
Dwyn struggled. He was still slippery and couldn’t seem to get a grip of Hana’s fur. His eyes were blurred with tears.
The roar of the creature was so loud, they all jumped. It raised itself and caught the first of the moonlight upon its head, an ancient thing, lined in years with a snapping set of powerful jaws.
“Woah, Corky!”
Entirely unexpected. A woman’s voice.
The team rose up, seeking the safety of the sky. From here, in the moon’s bright glare, they could see the beast. Water plowed away as it surfaced completely. Root caught her breath. Spanning the entire area below her was a round shell the size of a colossal swimming pool. A pattern of thick purple design curled all across it, culminating at the head, which was strapped in brown leather. It was a tortoise! And what was more surprising was that in the centre of the tortoise’s shell, shaking and panting and looking incredulously tiny was none other than Lian’s beloved Hovermutt, Pilsnips.
25
THE SONG
“This yours?” the unfamiliar voice spoke again. It came from a woman propped up in an enormous floating carriage. She was clothed in what looked to be waterproof paper bags. On her head was an old aviator looking helmet and goggles. She had long white hair that whipped in the wind like foamy waves.
It took awhile for the Valadors to feel ease enough to lower back toward the water. It wasn’t that the woman was dangerous. Indeed, as
a series of questions quantified, she was, astonishingly an old friend of Lian’s mother, having had the remarkable knack of recognizing Estrella’s genes in Lian’s face. Her name was Miss Haverly Sintamore. And, as was stated, it wasn’t Miss Sintamore that was questionable. It was Corky, the gargantuan tortoise that made any acquaintance rather challenging. A gargantuan, not to mention purple tortoise is not something one befriends everyday.
“Aw, he’s a Dimpling! Ain’tchya, Corkster?”
The giant mouth of the giant beast let out a giant roar.
Pilsnips rose into the air. Lian leaped upon him and squeezed his ‘big boy’ with all his might. Once convinced Pilsnips was okay, he looked back to the woman. “Thank you. So much.”
“Don’t mention it. Glad to have been of service.”
“So, how do you know my mum?”
“My dad commissioned her for some art work. Years ago. We became fast friends, your mother and I. And haven’t you just grown into her spitting image, uh? Though y’got your dad’s ears I see.”
The aforementioned ears went red. “How’d you know to find us here?”
“ I didn’t. I was just takin’ Corky out for a run. Good timing’s what I’m thinkin’”
A miracle is what the others were.
“We were trying t’get to Divit.” Dwyn said.
“Well, you’re not too far off. But best y’come with me t’the island for the night. Hover surfin’ ain’t much fun in the pitch black, now I’m thinkin’. I’ll take ya t’Divit in the mornin’. C’mon, now. I dunno ‘bout you but I could eat a Grielog right now.”
Root was the last to board the water carriage. She took Haverly’s hand like the others had and that’s when she noticed that it was not an ordinary hand. It had the fingers, all five of them. But these were each joined by a flap of thick skin. Haverly Sintamore was webbed.
Cool.
Root took the middle seat of the carriage, which was almost exactly like a land carriage except where wheels should have been there were four long skinny boards, two to each side. Skis really. Waxed to a shine. The back of the water carriage sunk low while the head was high and open with a lofty podium type seat way out at the front. This is where Haverly sat holding Corky’s reins.
“Right, Corky boy. Let’s get a move on.” She clicked her tongue.
The tortoise took off with three times the speed that had been expected. Root closed her eyes, preparing for the splashing cold of his wake but it never came. She took a clenched peek and saw that some invisible shield protected the entire carriage. It sprayed the water to the sides, keeping even Haverly who was front centre, for the most part dry.
“Ninety nine bottles of Chuck on the wall, ninety nine bottles of Chuck. Take one down, pass it around…” Haverly handed over a green bottle labeled Chuck -Vintage Now. Lian eagerly took a swig, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and belched. A large pink bubble escaped him. Mmmm, good stuff. Haverly handed off two more bottles to Dwyn and Root. “…Ninety eight bottles of Chuck on the wall.”
They were just launching into the fifty-third verse when Corky pulled them onto the shore of a small island.
“Ah, home sweet island.” Haverly said and leaped from her seat. “Let’s eat.”
Root had polished off her second bottle of Chuck, which was like an effervescent drink of bubble gum. With each gulp she had tried to outdo the previous bubble burp and had managed to get her globes quite big actually. Bigger than Dwyn’s which sucked pretty bad. Feeling safe and cheered, she leapt from the carriage and followed her teammates after Haverly, even surprising herself with a friendly stroke of Corky’s stocky, heavily scaled leg.
Haverly led them to a small, lived-in campsite a few feet away. She waved her hand to start a fire and soon had skewers of some sort of ocean creature and seaweed sizzling overtop. Bottles of Chuck were replaced with steaming mugs of Chorm and Corky was hunkered down with a hill of greens.
The island was tiny; one could probably walk its perimeter in an hour. It was Haverly’s oasis, her windowless summer cabin where she could escape Divit’s nonsense for a while.
“What do you mean, nonsense?” Lian had asked.
“I mean, all that bogus crap goin’ on.”
“Bogus crap?”
“Digging around, rooting up things that are best left alone!” Haverly spat beside the fire, not in anger, in routine. “Used to be a place where you could go away for days and not lock your doors. But now! Now there’s so many strangers comin’ and goin’. Heck, y’can’t even get a good night’s rest for all the noise.”
“Why? What’s changed?” Dwyn asked.
Haverly squared herself. A venting was coming on. “It’s like this, kids. Divit was once all under water. Didjya know that?”
“Yeah, the Drowned City.” Lian said. His friends gave him a news-to-us look.
“Right.” Haverly went on. “Ages ago. Way before your time. Before mine even, though I still got the genes.” She held up her hands and spread them open. The webbing stretched wide. “Not everyone’s webbed, evolution and all. But some of us still pass it on. My great grand dad was the last of us Sinatmores t’have gills but I still see the odd one here and there. More eats, kids?”
They shook their heads. The meal had been surprisingly good, once one could get past its squeamish texture and color. They were stuffed. And now far too interested to be diverted with food. Haverly continued, enjoying her soapbox for the time.
“Anyhoosit, where was I?”
“The Drowned City.” Dwyn said, eager for its story.
“Right. The Drowned City. Been underwater for ages and best left that way is what I’m thinkin’ but oh no, there’s treasure down there. Lost treasure. Money to be made! Which in itself ain’t bad. Nothin’ wrong with makin’ a buck. But so many came all at once. Greed in their eyes! The Drowned City gold rush, y’know what I’m sayin?”
They nodded.
“It wasn’t done proper. They took to ‘er like swine, plunderin’ the great city as far as I’m concerned. And they weren’t satisfied with just anything neither. Nope, they were lookin’ for the big one, know what I’m sayin’?”
TheValadors shook their heads.
“The big one! The prize! The goldmine!”
More head shakes.
“The Song, kids! Where y’been?”
“The Song?” Root said.
“Holy Mother of the Sleeping Socks! Don’t they teach y’all anything in them Scholarlies?”
“Nothing about a Song. ” Lian said, joining
Haverly’s disgust. “They only teach what they want you to know. Ever since the Guardian, they changed the curriculum. You can’t even find good information in public Word Pantries anymore. It’s all been specially selected. What’re they hiding is what I’d like t’know! It’s so frustrating! I know I’m kinda lucky…sort of… ‘cause sometimes my dad lets me get books from the council pantry. But even then, they’ve been tampered with and weeded out. It ticks me off! It ain’t’ right”
Ain’t? Root thought but never said anything.
Haverly blinked, taken aback by the sudden fury of Estrella’s son, a ranting that she was used to dominating. “Oh. Well…yeah.”
“So, what is it?” Dwyn dove back in.
“Well, let’s step back here a bit. A little History one-o-one.” Haverly leaned in her seat, collecting the memories. “Y’all know what a HaloEm is, don’tchya?”
Their eyes popped.
“Yeah!”
“Oh yeah!”
“That’s what we’re here for! A HaloEm Quill!”
“Well, that ain’t no easy find, kids. People been seeking them for a long time. I’m told there are only five left in all of DréAmm.”
“That’s what we were told, too.”
“Makes for a difficult undertaking. A HaloEm Quill is mighty indeed. But I’m talkin’ ‘bout something even more powerful. The very thing that gives the HaloEm their magic in the first place. Or more importantly their life.”
“The Song?”
“Bingo, a prize for the boy!”
Dwyn beamed.
“Uh, Haverly. What exactly is the Song?” Lian asked.
Haverly went silent. She scanned the faces of her guests, taking in their eyes one at a time. When she was finished, she spoke lower. “Right. Now, I’m gonna share somethin’ with you kids, somethin’ ain’t never been shared before. ‘Cause it’s my feelin’ that you can be used in this somehow. A hunch I guess. Comin’ with the fact that I found y’all and I know happenstance when it hits me. Now listen close.”
The team leaned forward, chomping at the bit.
“Not very many know this, but the HaloEm came from the Drowned City.”
“That’s why they’re looking for the Song down there!”
“Another bingo. Now, don’t interrupt.”
“My grandfather, bless his spirit, was born in the Drowned City…before it collapsed of course, when the sea was its friend and people lived in harmony with it. He wasn’t there long before the Fall and escaped with barely a shirt on his back. He, like so many, pioneered a new life for himself above ground, making the difficult transformation from sea to land creatures. But he never forgot his roots, and in particular his third birthday in which he was visited by an actual HaloEm. The memory of its beauty and majesty stayed with him until his dying day. And on that day, just before he made his transition, he gave his only son, my father a special gift indeed.”
“The Song!”
“Wrong. Now don’t interrupt…To his son, my father, he gave…two eggs. Big as Corky’s they were. But beautiful. In sight and sound. They were iridescent and they glowed as if they were the eyes of Celstyria.”
“Who’s that?” Root asked.
“Celstyria was goddess of the Daystar.” Lian sounded off dully, as if reading from an almanac. “She ruled in light and truth and begot one daughter, Shalayna the Adored.”