Call of the Waters (Elemental Realms Book 2)

by H. L. Burke

  “And if you’re wrong?” Her voice cracked. “If they find you?”

  He winked. “Then you’d better kiss me now because you may not get another chance.”

  Her bottom lip went slack. He worked his fingers into her hair and drew her closer. Her warm breath tickled his skin as their gazes locked.

  Gabrin’s head spun when he raised it, but she lowered herself to meet him. His mouth melted against hers, and her eyes shut. One of her hands rested on his chest while her other arm slipped around his waist. He embraced her, pulling her body against his. Her lips parted. He gently squeezed her bottom lip between his teeth and savored the thrill when her breath quickened in response. She trembled.

  “If I weren’t so weak, we could have a lot of fun right now,” he whispered.

  “Maybe later.” She blushed. Her hands cupped his face. “You have to live.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She picked herself up. “After you rest for a bit, eat something. I’m not leaving you forever. I’m going to find the Evermirror, and I’m going to make them help us. If you have any doubt at all of your ability to walk, don’t try. Wait here, all right?”

  “It’s not like I have a lot of other options.” He indulged in an eye-roll.

  She glanced towards the path, then back at him. Her bottom lip shook. “Gabrin, I …”

  “Please, go. Nothing you say will make it any easier.”

  She rubbed her arms and nodded. He closed his eyes rather than watch her leave.

  After her footsteps faded in the distance, he wormed his way out of the clearing, pulling his pack along with him. He settled under the low branches of a young fir, pushed his pack under his head for a pillow, and tried to sleep. The silence of the woods, however, ate at him. Hot and cold played through his body in waves, and he shivered, whether from shock or fear, he wasn’t sure.

  Creator, I know I haven’t been the best example of a man, but please, get me through this. Please.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Arana yanked at the donkey’s reins. “We’re almost to the top, you cursed beast.” She clenched her teeth. The donkey flicked its ears but didn’t increase its pace.

  She huffed and wiped her brow. Markyl should’ve returned by now. He would’ve caught up with the Water Slave by midday, easily. “Where is that idiot?”

  Finally, she crested the hill and turned. Her breath hissed through her teeth. Tiny figures climbed the path miles below her. She counted four, and while she couldn’t discern their features, the number alone meant it wasn’t Daman …

  Worried they’d see her, she pulled the donkey out of view.

  “The balance has shifted.” The Earthen Lord’s voice rumbled through her, and she dropped to her knees.

  “My Lord, you’ve been silent for so long.”

  “Unfortunately, other things have demanded my attention. The bonds on the Water gateway are the first to weaken, but they will not be the last. My brethren and I must prepare for war.”

  A chill cut through her. “What would you have of me?”

  “My attempts to contact your companion, Daman, have failed. We knew the Water Folk were beginning to reach out; however, we were unprepared for the return of their Speakers. You must shut the gateway.”

  “I will do so or die trying.”

  “I expect nothing less, but your death is of no use to me. Therefore, I will now give you a gift. Leave the path. Unburden your animal and lay out the bindmetal in a sheltered spot.”

  Arana led the donkey behind an outcropping of rocks. Soon she had the bindmetal coils stretched out in the grass.

  “Touch the bindmetal. Channel my strength and will into it,” the Earthen Lord ordered.

  Kneeling, Arana placed both her hands on the bindmetal cables. The metal twisted, writhing like a serpent. It dug into the earth, which cracked and churned. The dirt and rocks rose into a column. The bindmetal coils snaked up into the mass and wrapped around it like a net. The mass stretched and reformed until it resembled a man with arms, legs, and a head set with dark obsidian eyes. Rocks jutted from it like bulging muscles, and it towered over Arana, three times as tall as a man.

  She gaped. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is the perfect body, unyielding and impervious to pain. All it lacks is a soul, and for that, my faithful one, I have you.”

  The creature of stone grasped Arana’s skull in its hand as if it were an apple. She convulsed. She could sense the monster’s strength, and she embraced it. Her frail human body fell from her like a cloak, and she melded with the Earthen Beast.

  Her former self lay like a wilted flower, weak and useless. Contempt rippled through her, and she raised a heavy foot to crush it.

  “No.”The Earthen Lord halted her movements. “You may yet need your form. Let it rest. For now, pursue the Water Slave. Crush her and close the gateway.”

  “Nothing will stop me, My Lord.” Arana swung one leg forward, and the ground shook. Her bulk slowed her progress, but after stumbling for a few steps, she learned to control her new body. The power of the Earth pulsed through her. The fate of her companions no longer mattered. Arana was one with her beloved Elementals and therefore truly alive.

  ***

  The warmth of Gabrin’s kiss faded from Quill’s lips far too quickly, leaving her cold and alone, lost in the silence of the woods. It took all her willpower not to turn back.

  What if something happens to him because I left him alone? What if I can’t find the Evermirror in time? Oh Creator, look after him, please. If something happens to him now, it’ll destroy me.

  A cliff face rose through the trees, and the path became a set of steps, carved directly into the stone.

  She glanced up into the sky then back through the trees. Judging by the sun, it had only been about an hour since she’d left Gabrin. She exhaled, forcing herself to stop worrying about him. Completing her quest would ensure his safety as well as her own … she hoped.

  Moss covered the rocky steps, and pale blue glinted through in places. Kneeling, she scraped away a hand’s breadth of moss. Icestone flickered beneath, running through the limestone steps in spidery veins. She shuddered and yanked her hand back. Going into a trance now could ruin everything. Hopefully her shoes and the moss would be enough to shield her from the icestone’s effects.

  She tested her foot on the first step. A chill shot up her leg. She froze, expecting a trance to overtake her. Her heart pounded in her ears, but rather than blur, her senses sharpened. She could feel the water droplets clinging to the moss as if they were goosebumps on her own skin.

  The trickle of a stream entered her brain, flowing down her spine, and a cool energy collected in her fingertips. Exhaling a breath that misted before her, she took another step.

  As she climbed, strength built in her legs. Each step became easier than the last as if there were a current at her back, propelling her forward.

  The stairs ended when the cliff turned into a gentle slope. The white path returned, but now some of the tiles were icestone rather. These blue squares formed a swirling pattern of waves and eddies.

  The path dipped beneath a line of willows, their dripping branches rich with pale green leaves. She pushed through this curtain into a meadow of knee-high grass spangled with red, yellow, and purple flowers like stars in the night sky. Here the path ended, but the current drew her on, into the grass, alive with the fragrance of flowers and the buzz of bees.

  Water sustains life. It creates beauty. It cleanses. This is the seat of that life, but where is the Evermirror?

  Something blue peeked through the grass. Quill ran forward then halted at the shores of a clear, blue pool, bluer than the sky or any water she’d ever seen. It was a small pond, perhaps thirty feet across.

  Quill bit her lip. I was expecting something flashier.

  She turned her eyes downward, and her breath left her.

  Two conflicting sights fought for her attention. Just below the surface of the water, covered in ru
st, lay a metal net. It appeared to stretch across the entire pond, secured to the earth along the edges. Below the net, however, was nothing … the bottom of the lake fell away a few steps from shore, dropping from a knee-deep shallows to a depth of at least fifty feet. The water was so clear that even at the bottom, she could make out individual stones. She circled the pool, staying back from the water for fear of the trance taking her again. Partway around, the bank had crumbled away. With nothing to grasp, the net had slackened. A murmur of voices rose from the gap.

  Quill’s stomach churned. Dropping her pack, she hazarded a foot into the shallows. The voices called to her, but something muffled them. Something held their power in check.

  The net.

  She grasped the net with all her might and wrenched it from the shore. The water about her began to glow.

  “Hear us! Free us! Save us!”

  The voices welled up like a flood. Fear, desperation, isolation: all the emotions of her previous trances screamed at her, though now with an undercurrent of precious hope. The urge to end their suffering overtook her. She wept as she tore at the net.

  The cables ripped her hands. Dark energy bit at her, sending waves of nausea through her, but she kept going. She circled the pool, water soaking into her skirts and filling her boots.

  The net sagged towards the center. The light from the Evermirror intensified until it blinded her; however, she no longer needed her sight. The surface of the water was an extension of her soul. The bonds of the net weighed on her, and she knew exactly where to grasp to pull them away.

  The water sang a hymn of both chaos and harmony, pain and relief.

  The last stake holding the net to the shore gave way in her hands, and it sank into the depths.

  Quill stood in the shallows. The water swirled about her feet, laughing and rejoicing in a thousand voices. They rose from the pond into her brain, and all knowledge of herself drained into the maelstrom of Elemental energy.

  “Child, you freed us.”

  “Thank you!”

  “I can be heard again.”

  “Free! Free!”

  “Life!”

  The words burbled about her. Too much. Too many. Quill fought to free herself, for she couldn’t tell where she ended and the waters began. She felt faint, stretched out.

  “Stop! You’re killing me,” she gasped.

  Her tears melded with the pool.

  “Silence!”A familiar voice, the Elemental from her trance, rose above the rest. The choir faded to a murmur. She floated, safe but helpless, unable to pull herself from the water’s embrace.

  “Forgive us, child. Our separation from your world has starved us. No Speaker is meant to hear so many voices. Soon my fellows will find their own Speakers to commune with. For now, I will hold them back. I will be your guide.”

  “Who are you and why me?”

  “My name is Vess, and you because you listened.”The voice had an androgynous pitch, sonorous and lyrical.

  “Are you male or female?” Quill asked, trying to picture the being in her mind.

  “My people do not reproduce as yours do, so our gender is less defined. We simply are. You can consider me whichever gives you comfort.”

  The tone reminded her of her mother, soothing her after a nightmare. “Are there others like me?”

  “Many. The bonds on our world prevented us from reaching out for many centuries. Still, the longing for human communion is innate to our race. We never stopped trying to communicate. However, it was only recently that humans began to respond.”

  “So there are others?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, something preys upon them. Several of the souls we have contacted vanished, their souls lost to us, and even with those who still live, the link has been tenuous, fading in and out. You are the first we have been able to draw to our Evermirror.”

  “Do all your people have the ability to speak to mine?”

  “Perhaps a tenth of us … and of that tenth, perhaps another tenth have the inclination, but among those, the need is as strong as your desire for air. Now that the bonds are gone, we will reach out, find those among your race with the longing to speak to us in return, and we will commune fully.”

  Pleasure rippled through Vess. This being’s soul lacked malice.

  “Why was our gateway closed?”Vess’s tone clouded with pain.“Who among you chose to keep us apart?”

  “I know not. The gateway has been shut since long before my birth.”

  “Ah …”Vess’s sigh burbled like a brook. “I forgot how short-lived you humans are. Yes, our gateway was closed. However, you mentioned the Fire Speakers, so the Fire gateway is not?”

  “I believe the Fire and Earth gateways are both open, but they’ve chosen to cause us pain.”

  “How so?”Vess’s essence, like cool fingers, reached into Quill’s thoughts.“With your permission, child, I will read your knowledge. Let me understand what your world has become. Do you let me in?”

  Quill wavered. “Forever?”

  “For a time. I swear, I shall withdraw once my understanding is complete.”

  She shuddered. Vess’s aspect comforted her. Still, to allow another soul such access to her innermost being, her thoughts and memories …

  “I know I am asking for much trust, but water is about connection. Once I have bonded with you, my life will rise and fall with yours. Please, child, I would never do you harm.”

  Quill nodded. “You may.”

  The water turned effervescent. Bubbles tickled her skin. For a moment she felt dizzy, then bliss overwhelmed her, and she floated freely on the current, her life in Vess’s hands.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A pang of hunger pushed Gabrin back to consciousness. He rolled onto his side and coughed. His throat dry and scratchy, he fumbled for his canteen. The space between his eyes ached. Sitting up to drink, he felt lightheaded but well enough to risk standing.

  “Something to eat, and I should be fine.” His voice was husky, but it was comforting to fill the silence.

  Hazy golden light filtered through the trees. He knew it had been well after midday when Quill left him, so he must’ve slept only a few hours. Not bad considering the wound. Empathic healers were amazing.

  He dug in his pack for a leaf-wrapped packet of dried fish to take the edge off his hunger.

  If he walked quickly, perhaps he could catch up with Quill. It would be nice to pick up where they left off. She’d all but said she’d be willing.

  Shouldering his pack, he started towards the path. He played their kiss in his mind over and over again.

  What do I really want from her? She’s empathic, so a casual romance is unlikely. Blast, when she touches me, I don’t want casual, and I especially don’t want to hurt her. There’s a special place in Hell for people who hurt Quill, I’m sure of it. Probably should take it slow. Who knows? A little more time and she might not want anything to do with me. Let’s see if it lasts when things calm down and we’re no longer running for our lives. That’ll be the real test.

  The forest dimmed, but even in the twilight, the white stones were easily marked. Wherever she was, she’d probably be stopping for the night soon … if she hadn’t found the Evermirror yet.

  Maybe she has. I wonder how she’ll react to it. A shiver crept down his spine. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing her commune with the water, those glowing eyes, that power.

  He drew a long breath.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it bad.” He laughed at himself.

  A muffled crash echoed through the forest. He dodged behind the nearest tree. A cracking sound, loud but distant, followed a moment later.

  A bit off the path lay a skeleton pine, devoid of needles, with a thick trunk and branches that would provide convenient footholds. He scrambled up it. A thick blanket of firs covered the path, but in the distance, something shook the trees.

  Crack! A sturdy-looking pine toppled over.

  Gabrin swallowed. Whatever it was,
it was huge and coming right at him. He half-jumped, half-swung to the ground. If he ran, perhaps he could reach Quill before it caught up with him, but in doing so, he might lead it right to her.

  I need to get its attention … and from a distance or else it might squash me and move on.

  Fumbling through his pack, he found flint and tinder. He wrenched a branch from the dead pine, rolled it in sap and dried needles, and lit it.

  Wait until you’re sure it’s seen you.

  He plotted his escape. I’ll draw it away, then lose it and double back.

  Heavy footfalls shook his resolve. With one hand on his sword hilt and the other gripping his torch, he squared his stance. The trees waved like grass. A lump formed in Gabrin’s throat.

  I can do this. Run back to the river. Hide under the bridge, wait for it to pass, double back, find Quill. Live. I’m going to live.

  A bulky shape broke through the last line of trees, a stone’s throw from him, and terror froze his heart.

  Black eyes glinted within a boulder-sized head. The creature was broad as a man was tall, its feet like the trunks of trees, with root-like toes tearing into the path beneath it … and it was staring right at him.

  Gabrin bolted.

  He chose a section of forest with densely packed trees, hoping they’d slow his pursuit. The torch flickered as he ducked through the branches. Limbs snapped behind him, and the ground trembled. Twigs whipped at his face.

  He tripped. The torch flew from his hand in a graceful arc and landed in a patch of dead bramble. The bushes ignited.

  Scrambling to his feet, he dodged. The monster’s fists shattered a tree into kindling. Gabrin darted away, but the earth bent beneath him. The monster tossed him into a patch of ferns. His breath escaped with a whoosh, leaving his ribs aching.

  The ground split. He leapt out of the way of the expanding crevice. It can earth speak? Creator, I’m doomed.

  Behind him rose a wall of fire. Before him towered the earthen construct.