“Watch out,” Alessa told Nastasha. “The general thinks he’s a matchmaker.”
“The hour is late,” Nastasha said, unimpressed, “and you are all obviously over-tired.”
Nastasha and Mascarin wore chain mail as well. With their blades at their sides, and their packs on their backs, they were ready to ride.
“Are you going too?” Nastasha asked Alessa. “I thought you would stay here—in case Elaina is found.”
“I’ve spoken with Jaimin,” Alessa said. “He’s asked me and Makias to sail to Destauria with Mascarin to help the war effort there. The rest of you are sailing to Arra.”
“I…see,” Nastasha said, and then she gently pulled Mascarin aside. “Is this what you want?” she asked him.
“To be apart from you? Of course not,” Mascarin replied. “But I’ll be needed in Destauria. And I’m sure your prince needs your advising.”
“Well, be careful.”
Marco arrived next with a sack of steel helmets. He passed them out to everyone and made it clear wearing them was not optional. Next, a cook approached with flasks of strong ferberry tea to help the travelers stay awake on the journey.
Makias approached Nastasha. “I have something I’d like you to take care of for a time, Your Excellency,” he said. “Hopefully the weight is not too much.” He handed her a canvas bag that shone as if it were woven from silver. She opened the mouth of the bag and looked inside. Four Celmarean books in pristine condition were now hers to borrow.
“I’ll save you the trouble of deciphering the titles,” Makias said. “The first is a primer on Celmarean grammar. The second is a dictionary. The third is an introduction to meditation, and that one, plus the fourth, is your reward for mastering the first two.”
“This is amazing. Thank you!” Nastasha said.
“You’re going to need help with the meditation. There are some steps you need to take to protect your children, so make sure you consult with one of us first.”
“Do you really think I can do it?” she asked Makias.
“Think? No. Feel? Yes. It’s not about thinking. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
“I shall protect and treasure these,” Nastasha said, pulling the bag’s drawstring closed.
Jaimin was last to arrive. Nastasha made him prove to her that he was wearing his carbon-nanofabric chain mail under his outer clothing.
Everyone filed outside, donned their helmets and followed General Jorge around the side of the palace to the stable, where a row of small, white Celmarean horses were saddled up and ready to go.
They set off in four mounted groups, carrying no torches or flares that might attract attention. Jaimin and Marco rode in the first group, escorted by armed soldiers. In the last group, soldiers chaperoned a few poor horses heavily laden with items Alessa and Makias had packed.
Even with no moon visible, as their eyes adjusted to the darkness the travelers could see the whitewashed Celmarean city around them start to glow in the light of the stars and cosmic dust. Vacant streets and alleys separated long-abandoned homes. Everything looked meticulously maintained. The pavement, the walls, and the many fountains were clean and polished. Planters outside of windows nobody had looked through in ages coddled well-groomed autumn blooms. The Destaurian army had clearly gone to great lengths to preserve this place.
Jaimin’s group entered the woods, following the beaten road. Brilliant stars shone through the wispy basket-weave of bare branches above. Jaimin smelled and tasted rich soil in every breath. Wild mushrooms bubbled up from all the crags and corners. Insects, some bioluminescent, stirred and hopped in the leaf litter, away from the noise and vibration of the horses’ steps. Owls hoo-hooed in the distance.
The lengthy journey gave Jaimin plenty of time to think. As the last remnant of the pacifying influence of the divine light wore off, he remembered the rainy night he first met and fell in love with Elaina, her eagerness for a first date, their intimate discussions on the overlook, and their first kiss. Having someone so fascinating, so selfless and so wonderfully innocent interested in him had filled him with a warmth he’d never imagined he’d experience. Twice she’d help to save his life. And now, he’d done all he could to save hers.
Elaina was somewhere for sure; he knew this much. People don’t cease to be. But would he ever be able to see her again in this life? To contact her? Or did he have to wait out his days alone until he passed into the world where she was? And what was she thinking now? Was she waiting for him to come for her? Was she searching for him? Was she running, invisible, through the dark forest beside his horse at that very moment, trying to get his attention?
He had been told do his duty. Surely the divine spirit had given him gifts he could use to help restore peace: his mending, his intelligence, his unexpected ability to speak and inspire his people, the divine light… He would just need to apply these gifts the best he could until the divine spirit decided to reveal more about Elaina’s whereabouts in the vast multiverse. He hadn’t given up on her, nor would he ever.
In group behind Jaimin’s, Nastasha rode behind Mascarin. Nastasha wanted to take in the sights, sounds and smells of the exotic woods she had wondered so much about, but her gaze kept getting drawn to the handsome man on the white horse before her. She knew she could have him by her side her whole life. She’d have a father for her children, a lover to satisfy her deepest desires, and a friend.
But Mascarin’s life had been so different from hers—what difficulty would that bring? He was uneducated: many of the things on her mind would be beyond his grasp. And his life had been dedicated to his other family: a group of wayward children. Would he leave them and their needs behind? Should Arra be freed from the purple army threat, would integrating Mascarin into court culture be a huge distraction from her daily tasks? Would she be able to give him the attention he deserved?
And then there was her burning curiosity for all things Celmarean. That interest could be consuming, and it would never be a priority for Mascarin.
All these questions, she realized, were not about Mascarin. They were about her. Nastasha’s values. Nastasha’s priorities. Certainly, she thought, she was being selfish—not considering what he wanted for the future. But she couldn’t make herself feel any differently.
In the next group back, Alessa was wondering about her future with her childhood love riding before her. Could she learn to share her life with a man? But her thoughts were not on whether Makias was the right man for her. She already knew he was. And she knew he carried in his pack an heirloom engagement cape, which he would present to her when the war was won and the moment was right.
The travelers reached the docks in the magical hour before daybreak. Surprisingly, and perhaps due to the tea, nobody was too exhausted.
Nastasha and Mascarin exchanged farewells in the shadows of a warehouse doorway. “I’ll see you again soon,” she said. Looking into his bold, green eyes and smelling his skin, his breath, and his face so near her, instantly brought back the times they had been intimate.
“You stay safe,” he told her. “And stay hidden. Remember, you are the brains in this war, not the muscle.”
“I expect the same of you,” she said. “Win this war for us. And come and find me as soon as you can.”
“You have my word,” he said.
She pressed her lips to his, taking from him what she needed, and what modesty would allow.
Meanwhile, on the docks, Alessa and Jaimin hugged good-bye. “For some reason, I feel closer to Elaina here,” Jaimin said.
In fact, they were standing only meters away from where Elaina’s body was anchored among the sea-grass in the dark salt water.
“The hour before sunrise is when the world of the spirit draws closest to the world of the living,” Alessa said. “Maybe that’s why you feel her presence.”
“I haven’t given up on her,” he said.
“I know you haven’t. You just have important work to do. I’m impressed, kid. You’ve learn
ed so much in such a short time.”
“Be careful in Destauria,” he said.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a survivor,” she told him.
Two ships set out at the same time. The Sentinel set course due east for Arra, and a second vessel, with Alessa, Makias, and Mascarin on board, turned east-southeastward toward Destauria.
Nastasha joined Jaimin at the stern of the Sentinel. Together, they looked back on the legendary island of Celmarea as their ship drifted slowly from the dock. The sky behind them was just starting to turn a pinkish hue.
Jaimin had thought that with enough faith in the divine spirit he could pull together the will to leave Celmarea, even though he knew Elaina’s body was still there somewhere. But, as the ship drifted further, he felt his soul rending, like a part of him was being ripped away by the increasing distance.
Nastasha looked upon the face of Jaimin—her true love—his eyes deep with passion, his youthful skin, and his wind-flicked curls—and she felt his pain more intensely than even a best friend should. She tried desperately not to cry. “It’s harder than you thought it would be?” she asked him.
“I just, feel…like she still needs me.”
“Well, she needs you to be strong and do your duty. Isn’t that what you decided?”
Jaimin’s eyes suddenly lit up in panic. “No, I mean she needs me! She’s dying…again! She can’t breathe!”
Nastasha’s heart pounded and raced. “What?”
“Elaina! Finally!” Jaimin leaned on the rail, searching for something across the expanding gap between the Sentinel and the torch-lit docks.
“Where is she?”
“There!” he said, and he pointed.
And she saw at once what he meant. A pinprick of white light flickered in the water, just in front of one of the piers. “Stop the ship!” Jaimin yelled.
Nastasha ran mid-ships and yelled up to the new captain: “Bring her around! We’re heading back.”
The captain looked baffled, but he ordered his crew to work the sails to turn the ship sharply around. The crew on the other ship noticed, and started to turn back toward the island as well.
Jaimin had run toward the port rail as the Sentinel came around, and when Nastasha found him again he was crouched on top of the rail, ready to leap into the sea. “What in the heavens are you doing?” she yelled.
“I’ll see you there,” he shouted, and he jumped overboard.
But there was no splash. Nastasha peered over the rail and saw that the sea’s surface had somehow cushioned Jaimin’s fall!
Drawing the molecules of seawater tightly together, Jaimin had formed a surface that could support his weight. He stepped forward, and the sea solidified wherever his foot landed, allowing him to take one step, and then another. Soon he was running on the surface of the sea, toward the distant light that had grown bright enough now to illuminate the underside of the pier.
Nastasha noticed that the other ship had dropped a lifeboat, and two shadowy forms were riding the lifeboat toward the light with a boost from a powerful wave. That has to be Alessa and Makias, she thought.
Jaimin kept up his sprint. It was much farther to shore than it had seemed from the Sentinel, but he didn’t tire.
When Jaimin arrived within a few ships’ lengths of the docks, he heard a crack! from onshore. A crossbow bolt whizzed past his arm. Then he heard another crack! and felt a bolt smack the outer edge of his hip. The impact of the arrow on his impenetrable armor spun him around, and his body skipped like a stone on the surface of the water. His mind had instinctively reached out, compacting the surface as he flipped. After a few bounces, though, he lost his bearings and plopped into the sea with a clumsy splash.
Cold ocean water the color of steel lapped against Jaimin’s face, stinging his eyes and surging straight up his nose. Once he had sorted out where the air was, he applied his talent to push the water around him down, which raised him back above the surface like a cork. Finally, he thickened the water beneath him and stood, shaking, atop it.
He looked back toward the shore and saw soldiers tackling someone he hoped was the shooter.
Just then, Alessa and Makias came alongside Jaimin in their lifeboat.
“Are you hurt?” Makias asked, helping Jaimin into the craft.
“She’s alive!” Jaimin yelled.
“I feel her too,” Alessa said. “She’s trapped under the water, and I’ll need to cut her free. Sit down and hold on to something.” Alessa and Makias generated an enormous surge of water to propel them all forward.
We see you! Jaimin told Elaina in his mind. We’ll get you! Elaina’s thoughts were hard for him to grasp, but she was thinking, and, bathed in the divine light now, she wasn’t drowning any more.
When they reached the end of the pier, the light from under the water was almost blinding against the dim morning. Alessa dove into the sea, and Jaimin hopped out of the boat, repelling the water so that an air bubble stayed around him as gravity pulled him down.
Through the odd refraction of his giant bubble, Jaimin saw Elaina at last! She was glowing a radiant white, and she had a small bubble about her mouth. Her eyes were open and looking right at him. Jem! He heard her think. Where am I? He felt her utter confusion.
Just keep breathing like that. Jaimin told her. We’re here!
Alessa dove below Elaina, and, with her blue-tinged sword, severed the rope that bound Elaina’s feet to the heavy stone. As soon as Elaina was floating free, Jaimin lifted the water to raise himself, Alessa, and Elaina to the surface.
Elaina surfaced and gasped, but then she slipped back under. Jaimin didn’t have enough focus to hold three people up for long, so, thankfully, Makias took over, manipulating the water to heave all three of them up into the lifeboat. They tumbled awkwardly, winding up between the lifeboat’s wooden benches.
Elaina’s glow faded. She had landed on top of Jaimin, with her mass of brown hair completely plastered across her face. When Jaimin parted her hair with his fingers, she smiled, planted a huge kiss on his lips, and hugged him tighter than she ever had before.
Jaimin couldn’t contain his tears of joy. “Where have you been?” he asked Elaina. “I’ve been trying to find you.”
“I don’t know,” she said, blinking to clear the salt water from her eyes. “Where am I?”
“You’re back with us,” Jaimin said. “That’s what matters.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
While Makias maneuvered the lifeboat toward a nearby beach, Alessa drove the water from everyone’s clothes and hair. Tiny sea creatures fell wriggling from Elaina’s hair.
Elaina embraced Alessa. Their clothes, nearly dry now, were stiff and salty—Elaina’s much more so. “The last thing I remember is my father’s funeral,” she said to Alessa.
“You were killed at the funeral. You’ve been dead for a week. Jaimin brought us all the way out here, to Celmarea, to try to bring you back.”
“I’ve been…dead? For a week?” Elaina looked over at the docks, where soldiers were scurrying around. “This is Celmarea? Is there a battle going on?” she asked.
“Not a battle,” Alessa said. “Just a couple of assassins on shore who I’m sure aren’t happy to see you up and about. But it looks like things are under control now.”
Makias created a giant tongue of seawater that lifted the boat from the surf and gently set it onto the beach. General Jorge ran over with a few of his men and offered his arm to help Elaina out of the boat.
“You’re the princess we’ve been looking for, I presume,” he said. “I’m General Jorge.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Elaina said.
“Did you find the shooters?” Jaimin asked the general.
“Caught one of them after the second shot. The other one we have cornered.”
“Bring the one you caught to me,” Jaimin said.
“Assassins?” Elaina asked.
“Your evil grandfather sent them after us to please the tutor,” Jaimin explained.
“But we found the tutor, and he’s on our side now.”
“Wow,” Elaina said. “I’ve missed a lot.”
“You sure have,” Jaimin said.
“Colonel,” the general yelled to one of his men, “find some towels and blankets for our friends. And bring the prisoner to us.”
The general led everyone up off the beach and onto the docks. Soon, two soldiers walked over the assassin they had caught. Her hands were shackled behind her back, but she seemed to be complying. She had medium length black hair and looked no older than sixteen.
Jaimin recognized her at once.
“Are you the one who shot me just now?” Jaimin asked her.
She nodded and smiled, but the smile wasn’t menacing or bitter—it almost seemed like she was overjoyed that he was addressing her.
“You really need more practice,” he said. “I remember you from the forest that night, in Arra.” There was no question in Jaimin’s mind that this was one of the twin girls who had tried to assassinate him the day of the royal hunt.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “it was…”
“You’re sorry?” he asked. “Are you kidding me?” He latched his hand onto her chest, just over her left breast. Her eyes opened wide in surprise. Tuning out, he visualized her thumping heart. And then, with his mind, he squeezed her heart and held it fast so it couldn’t beat.
“Jaimin! Don’t!” Elaina said.
Jaimin held on. The girl’s heart quivered, but her blood went nowhere. Elaina could feel Jaimin’s rage and knew it had little to do with what this girl had done. His rage was a reaction to the powerlessness he’d felt all week.
“She’s turning pale!” Elaina cried. “Jem, cut it out.” The girl’s eyes were bulging and her jaw was stretching low in terror and pain, but Jaimin didn’t let up. He kept up the pressure until more and more of the girl’s cells began to die. She lost consciousness. The soldiers continued to hold the young prisoner up, not willing to disrupt whatever it was the prince was doing.
The Fallen Mender Page 22