Call of the Waters (Elemental Realms Book 2)

by H. L. Burke

  “The encounter in the Wastes has me concerned,” the Earthen Lord rumbled to life within her.

  “We dealt with them. They were mere inconveniences.” She closed the sack and turned to where her two remaining companions struggled to light a fire in the fading light.

  “They may not be the only ones called by the Water Folk. Your numbers are not what they were before the Fire invasion. If the Water Folk wrest their gateway open, they will easily be able to defend it, for the Earthen Folk cannot risk moving openly across your world at this time. There are three in your party. Tomorrow you should come to the Stone Span. It is the only way to cross the chasm. Leave a man there, to guard it, until you have accomplished your task. He will feel no need for sleep or nourishment. I shall sustain him.”

  She touched the nearest tree. Life throbbed through it, the life of the Earth, her master.

  “Perhaps we should destroy the Span. Our combined powers could easily bring it down. No longer would the Water Demons be able to draw their Speakers to their aid.”

  “Nay, for we would no longer be able to reach their gateway, if we again have need to see to their bonds. The Water Folk are like the Air Folk, able to travel in mist, more acclimated to the Convergence than the Fire Folk, swifter-moving than we of the Earth. If their gateway opens, we will indeed be hard-pressed to stem the tide.”

  She ground her toe into the dirt. “We will guard the Span, then. None shall pass.”

  “Good, faithful one. Your reward will be great when your body finds rest within my embrace.”

  ***

  Eanan uncoiled the cord to lower their foodstuffs from the tree’s branches. It had been Quill’s idea, storing the food off the ground, to protect it from scavengers. A Wood Folk trick, he supposed, but clever.

  He unwrapped a scrap of rabbit from the previous night’s supper. It was cool but still fresh enough to eat.

  Gabrin approached from their fire, now down to a few flickering coals.

  “Where’s Quill?” Eanan asked.

  “She headed to the stream to wash. I’m not to follow, on penalty of a severe scolding.” Gabrin snorted. “I could use a bit of a wash myself … and a shave.” He rubbed his chin where a sparse collection of near-transparent blond hairs clung like maize silk.

  “No one out here cares what you look like.” Eanan waved his hand at the younger man.

  “I care.” Gabrin ran his fingers through his hair, picked out a twig, and grimaced.

  “You can have your turn now.” Quill emerged from the underbrush, her cheeks rosy and her hair slicked back from her face. “It’s cold, but it’s clean.”

  “Bracing, I suppose.” Gabrin snapped his twig in half and disappeared into the trees.

  Eanan offered his granddaughter a strip of rabbit meat.

  She shook her head. “Is there any hardtack left?”

  “Plenty. Both Gabrin and I are sick to death of it.” He passed her a small leather bag.

  She chewed slowly, her eyes on the road, which was barely visible through the thick shrubbery. “We aren’t alone out here. The stone path makes it hard to find tracks, but I’ve seen enough signs of humans to know. A little after midday yesterday, we definitely passed the remnants of a campfire.”

  “I saw it.” Eanan nodded.

  “That means they’re only about a half day ahead of us. Do you think they’re the ones who killed those men?” She withdrew a sky-blue ribbon from her pocket and pulled back her hair.

  For a moment she looked so much like Willa that he couldn’t speak. He cleared his throat. That ship was scuttled, forever. She’d never forgive him for stealing Quill.

  Quill peered at him.

  Eanan rubbed his hands together. “It’s likely. This area is obviously not well-traveled, and the chance of multiple parties being out here is slight. The question is, why are they out here?”

  “Maybe they’re bandits, robbing people on the road and hiding here between raids. My uncle and Meghil were guards for a while after the war. They used to tell of highwaymen forming bands and lurking in hideouts.”

  “Possibly … perhaps it is paranoia, but I suspect it may have something to do with the Evermirror. We may not be the only ones trying to find it.”

  Branches cracked behind them, and Quill jumped. Eanan, however, recognized Gabrin’s footfalls, the swagger of a man who had spent years balancing on wooden decks.

  “I’m ready to go. You?”

  “I’d like to make the Stone Span today, if possible.” Eanan wrapped up the supplies and shouldered his pack.

  “What exactly is the Stone Span?” Quill asked, claiming her own satchel and kicking out the campfire.

  “On the map, it seems to be where the Great Highway crosses something called ‘Shadow Wing Canyon,’” Gabrin explained. “My guess is a bridge of some sort. It also marks the end of what was considered Forra back in the day. Shadow Wing Canyon stretches a good hundred miles, north to south. It marks a clear border from the Mountain’s Feet to the Southern Territories.”

  “Even in more civilized days, the land past here was largely uncharted, mostly impassable mountains and parched deserts.” Eanan strode out onto the Highway. “Not worth colonizing. Back then the kings of Forra were more interested in subduing the northern tribes for their timber and the southern for their diamond mines than exploring the western badlands.”

  Quill’s eyes widened. “You mean humans fighting against humans? Invading other human’s lands?”

  A warmth stirred in Eanan’s heart, combined with slight chagrin. The naiveté was charming, but brought about by an extreme ignorance of history. “It took centuries of warfare to unite Forra under a single king. Perhaps dark times, though long faded into history.”

  Quill’s fingers twisted through her hair. “Still, it does make me wonder how we’re any better than the Elementals.”

  “We probably aren’t.” Gabrin fiddled with his compass.

  The group moved down the road. Gabrin had admitted before that the scale of his charts was at best a rough estimate, gleaned from third-hand accounts and outdated maps. Still, Eanan couldn’t help but hope they were drawing close to their end goal.

  A breeze rustled the leaves, the sound reminiscent of the waves of the sea. He allowed his mind to drift back to the islands. To Sarra, walking with him along the shore, her hair billowing out behind her, her eyes dark from too many losses. Perhaps he should’ve tried harder to convince her to accompany him. She might’ve been able to make things right with Willa.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pet’s heart skipped within her. To be allowed to open portals was like something out of a daydream. Willa and Freda stationed buckets of water around the yard, in case a fire monster emerged. They needn’t worry about that. Pet remembered the fire portals, how angry and hungry they felt. Opening them came out of fear and rage; perhaps why they’d appeared when she lost her temper as a little kid.

  “Are we sure about this?” Freda asked for probably the tenth time that morning. Pet had stopped counting around five.

  “You said the Water Elementals were speaking to Quill,” Willa said. “I want to know why. Pet has the control not to open a fire portal. Are you ready, Pet?”

  Pet nodded, sucking in her cheeks and dancing from foot to foot.

  Freda strung her bow. She pulled an icestone-tipped arrow out of her quiver. “Burn it all, I never wanted to use these again.”

  “Hopefully you won’t have to,” Willa said. “Go ahead, Pet.”

  Pet focused on the ground before her. She imagined cool water, refreshing, alive. A whirlpool spun in her mind, and she projected that image into the dirt. A blue light, like a disk, rotated to life. Freda drew a sharp breath.

  Water ran through Pet's veins. Her breath quickened. The portal grew, now as wide as a plate. Would it work this time?

  The water energy choked out like a strangled breath, and the light died. Only a black circle remained where the infant portal had been.

  Pet�
��s shoulders slumped. She tried again, only to have it fizzle out immediately … and again … and again.

  Frustration welled within her, and she blew out a hot breath.

  “Let’s rest,” Willa suggested. “I’ll go make some lunch.”

  Pet sat cross-legged, her face in her hands. “Why does fire come so easily but not water?”

  Freda shrugged and set her bow down. “Perhaps we should be grateful. For all we know, the Water Elementals are as dangerous as the Fire Folk.”

  Pet stared at the black scar in the dirt. She didn’t think so. The energy from the water portals didn’t have the anger she remembered from the fire portals.

  “Have you tried the other Elements?” Freda sat beside her.

  “Nothing happens when I think of air. At least with water, the portal starts to form, but air just won’t talk to me.” Pet avoided Freda’s eyes.

  “Talk to you?”

  “Yes. All the portals have a voice. Not words, really, though. It’s hard to explain.”Nothing about me makes sense. I’m a freak.

  “You don’t have anything to prove, Pet.” Freda squeezed her shoulder. “If not for you, who knows what state the world would be in? You’re a wall between us and danger.”

  Willa emerged from the house carrying a platter with a loaf of bread and a wedge of goat cheese.

  “I don’t think I want to try any more today,” Pet said.

  Willa nodded. “Eat something. You need your strength.”

  Pet took a warm crust of bread and crunched into it. It melted pleasantly in her mouth. This is what I’m meant to do, and I’m going to do it well. Someday.

  ***

  Quill’s feet ached. Dull pain gnawed at her calves, and she longed to sit beneath a tree and rest. Eanan, however, kept his nose pointed at the road ahead like a dog on a pheasant hunt. He’d demanded that they eat on their feet, and she doubted he’d be receptive to the suggestion of a break.

  Gabrin hadn’t checked his compass all day. Occasionally, he pulled it out, then pushed it back into his pocket with a slightly lost expression.

  “We'll keep following the Highway from here on out,” he explained. “At least we shouldn’t have to do more than that.”

  Birds sang in the forest. Here and there red or blue wings flashed between trees.

  The road curved to the right, heading north for the first time since they’d found it. Large rocks jutted out of the earth on either side of the path. The trees thinned, and the ground became a plateau where grass waved in the breeze like ripples across a pond. Purple flowers peeked out from round, lichen-covered rocks, and beyond that, emptiness. The ground dropped away into a rocky expanse far wider across than she could throw a stick.

  The Highway flowed through the grass, following the course of the canyon. A herd of deer grazed nearby, seemingly oblivious to the drop-off yards from where they feasted. Quill gazed out over the rocks. For the most part, they were brown, but streaks of red, orange, and yellow also caught her eyes.

  “We need to cross that?” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

  “Apparently the Stone Span does.” Gabrin nodded. “Want to go look over the edge?”

  She didn’t, but not willing to show him her fear, she followed him across the grass. They stopped several feet back.

  A river twined through the canyon like a great silver snake. The cliffs weren’t as sheer as she’d feared, but they were still far too steep for her to want to climb. Hopefully whatever this Stone Span was, it would be sturdy, and she wouldn’t have to look down.

  “It narrows up ahead.” He pointed.

  The canyon walls drew closer together. The water looked to be rapids, white and rushing. The chasm bent eastward, disappearing behind a rocky spire. Gabrin leaned out over the edge.

  Quill’s stomach clenched. “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not?” He grinned. “You worried I’ll fall?”

  “Just … let’s go.”

  A stream flowed through the grass a little ways ahead then disappeared in a thin wisp over the side of the canyon. The water misted, making the stone walls damp, but the falls itself didn’t reach the bottom, caught by the breeze and carried away. Quill stooped beside it and drank.

  Eanan paced. “I was hoping we’d see the Span from here. It’s not likely to be a small thing, not if it has to cross that.” He jerked his thumb at the canyon.

  “Why do they call it Shadow Wing Canyon, anyway?” Quill frowned. “It’s poetic, I suppose, but does it mean anything?”

  “No idea.” Gabrin adjusted his pack, and he and Eanan marched away.

  Quill exhaled. A feeling of unease tightened her chest. She trailed her fingers in the cool water, but it didn’t speak to her this time. Almost wishing she could hear the voices, she hurried after her companions.

  The road went around the stone spire, on the opposite side from the canyon. Without tree roots to tear at them, the bricks of the road lay flat and pristine as they had for centuries. Some patches of lichen chewed away at the edges, like green stains on the otherwise flawless, gray surface, but it lacked the cracks that had been constant during their trip through the forest.

  The road sloped downwards, coming nearer the canyon’s floor and the river. On the other side of the spire, the canyon was indeed much narrower, perhaps forty feet across, and lying over it like a great dark arm was a wide bridge. It had two arches with edges that clung to the walls of the canyon and a middle abutment that drove like a stake into the churning water of the rapids, perhaps twenty feet below.

  She couldn’t imagine how they’d made it, with the water so fast and the walls so steep.

  “That’s it.” A smile spread over Gabrin’s face. “Now that is impressive.”

  He quickened his pace, but the tightness in Quill’s chest increased.

  She grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

  Quill stared at the bridge. Something moved behind the rocks, a head, peeking out for a moment, then disappearing. Gabrin’s muscles tightened under her fingers.

  “I see it.” His mouth straightened into a frown. “Someone’s down there. I don’t want to point, but they’re behind that clump of boulders near the edge.”

  “Left of the Span or right?” Eanan squinted.

  “Left,” Gabrin replied. “They’re hiding again, but I definitely saw them.”

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Quill whispered.

  “No idea, but if they were up to any good, they wouldn’t be cowering behind rocks. I only saw one, though. You?”

  She nodded. “One. Could be more, though.”

  “Could be.” Gabrin put his hand on his short sword. “Well, we need to cross. Hopefully they’ll let us. If not, we’ll do what needs to be done. Stay behind me, Quill.”

  Quill's jaw tensed. She was useless in a fight, but more than that, she didn’t want to see anyone else die. “If they’re bandits, maybe we could offer them something. If we give them what they want …”

  “Let’s simply be careful. No point in planning our moves when we don’t know the game.” Eanan put his hand between her shoulder blades. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She glanced back at him, and something in his eyes made her feel safe. Concern and care radiated from his touch, and for once she didn't doubt his motives.

  Gabrin started down the path. Quill and Eanan followed close behind. The river roared, and she could taste the mist in the air.

  “You hear me child. Stronger now. Closer. Beware! I taste the bite of the bonds. You are not safe here.”

  Quill’s muscles tightened. The voice had never been so loud before. She couldn’t think about that now.

  “Use me. Embrace me. I’ll keep you safe.”

  I don’t need you. I don’t want you. She concentrated on the boulders. Any moment the person she saw would emerge and state their intent. They were relieving themselves off the path, perhaps? Nothing sinister. They’d wave and exchange pleasantries and that would be it.

 
The ground beneath her vibrated. Gabrin rocked and stretched out his arms for balance. Pebbles skittered from the cliff to their right, pattering against the ground like raindrops.

  “I can protect your friends.”

  A man with olive skin and thick, dark hair stood from behind the rocks. His black eyes glinted, and he smiled.

  “Let me save your friends!”

  Icy water rushed through Quill’s blood. Goosebumps popped up along her arms. The rushing of water overwhelmed her thoughts, and she stepped around Gabrin. The man emerged from his hiding place and raised his foot. Before he could bring it down, Quill shrieked, but instead of sound, water welled from her mouth. It misted in an icy cloud before her, tumbling forward, then throwing the man backwards against the stone railing of the bridge.

  “Quill?” Eanan grabbed her arm. “What was that?”

  “Get back!” she hissed, her voice harsh from the ice biting at her throat.

  The man snarled. He rubbed his sides.

  Wait? I hurt him? I didn’t feel pain. How do I not feel his pain?

  “I have you, my child. You need not fear his pain. I will absorb it. Now strike, before he recovers.”

  Quill's hands shook. She was empathic. Empathics couldn’t hurt people.

  The man on the bridge raised his hands.

  “He will strike again! Let me take you as my weapon. Let me in again.”

  I can’t.

  Eanan pushed her forward. “We need to move.”

  The man brought his hands down as if slapping a table before him. The ground shook, and the path beneath them cracked. Quill rocked, colliding with Gabrin’s back.

  “We can make the bridge if we run!” Gabrin shouted. He slung her over his shoulder and rushed forward.

  Small stones pelted them. Eanan scrambled after them, knife drawn, staggering on the still trembling pathway.

  “You serve the Water Demons!” the man yelled. “I cannot let you pass.” He charged.

  Gabrin dropped her. Pain jolted up her back as her tailbone hit the ground. Gabrin ducked a blow from the man’s fists then swung towards his attacker’s stomach with his blade. The man lowered his arm and blocked the strike. Gabrin’s sword glanced off his skin as if it had been steel.