In the Between Time

by Krystyne Price

  “She is merely a picture in Mateo’s mind of his own Protector.”

  Jafo stared at the ima in wonder. She was beautiful, of that there could be no contestation. But she was woman and in the oceans imos were never women. As his eyes bounced back and forth from her form to Mateo’s, all he could think was…legs!

  Nino chuckled. “You have seen and known Daria, merlan. I now have made myself known to you as well.”

  Jafo bowed slightly before remembering the admonition not to genuflect. He righted himself quickly as Nino continued.

  “The receding of the waters began when Daria and Mateo were birthed, but over the past several months that recession has increased, as you witnessed upon the roof here. And now, you have seen the child who reprsents the other of the prophecy, along with his Protector.”

  “I…” Jafo swallowed and turned slightly to view the ima and child. “So even though these are projections, they exist.”

  Nino nodded once.

  “Why me?” he asked, feeling as though the decision had been made for him before he’d even known there was a decision to make and not exactly happy about it.

  “She trusts you, Jafo.” Nino gazed serenely at him and Jafo felt the very real need to squirm under such scrutiny. “I would rather have entrusted her care to a more seasoned imo such as Nuelo, but the fewer mers who know of Daria’s existence and purpose right now, the better it will be in the long run.”

  Jafo frowned. “So you’re at the point of ‘any old cave in a storm’ with me?”

  Nino’s eyebrows shot up and he laughed heartily. “You could say that. But you will know what to do. You share a bond with Daria already, and that will only increase as the years pass. Plus as an imo you will gain special…abilities, which will help you along as well.”

  “And you will help me?”

  Nino’s face fell surprisingly fast and a knot of doubt settled into Jafo’s stomach. “There is only so much I can do. We are not allowed to interfere in your free will. That is why you must agree to become an imo. Otherwise I would simply have done it to you while you were sleeping.”

  Jafo stared at him, disbelief edging into his voice when he replied, “If we have free will, why do you touch merlings in their mothers’ wombs and make them into imos or…” He flapped a hand at Daria. “…like her, before they ever have the chance to make the decision about whether they want it?”

  Nino’s right eyebrow arched and Jafo suddenly wondered if he was about to get turned into a pillar of rock for being bold enough to question a dari’s motives. But then the side of Nino’s mouth curved upward and he responded, “Good, Jafo. Very good indeed. You will make a fine imo, and an appropriate Protector for Daria, given time and experience.”

  “Told you,” Daria sing-songed within his mind.

  Jafo was aware that Nino hadn’t actually answered his question, but something about the dari’s praise warmed him, though doubts still tangled with his neurons in ways that were starting to bring on the mother of all headaches.

  “Help me. I’m in trouble.”

  The voice hadn’t come from Nino or Daria. Jafo looked at Mateo. The child’s lips moved and he turned and reached a hand out to Jafo. Speaking again with his voice, which sounded far away even though he stood so close he said, “Please help us.” All at once the projection winked out of existence.

  “Mateo!” Daria cried out, pushing off Nino’s broad chest and swimming frantically around and around in circles in the place where the ima and Mateo had been. “Grandfather, Protector, help him!”

  “How? If he’s a meran that means he’s on land. I can’t go on land, I’ll drown!”

  “Will you, now,” Nino said in a way that didn’t seem like a question.

  Jafo felt his eyebrows knit into a deep frown. “Of course I will. I breathe water, merans breathe air.”

  Nino said nothing.

  Jafo said nothing. Were the daris always so unhelpful?

  “Grandfather, what will I do if Jafo will not become my Protector?”

  The dari sighed and looked fondly at her. “I do not know, my sweet jewel.” He looked pointedly at Jafo. “I am hoping that doesn’t happen.”

  Peer pressure has nothing on dari pressure, Jafo thought, prompting a chuckle from Nino. Jafo wasn’t finding it at all funny. It didn’t really look like he had a choice after all. Apparently in some way he was supposed to help rescue a couple of land dwellers even though he was a mer, and try to protect and hide Daria at the same time.

  Seriously?

  He hadn’t noticed Nino move, but suddenly the dari was before him with a hand upon his shoulder. “To answer your question, young Jafo, the individual merans and mers who are touched in the womb may not have decided upon that path as the individuals they have birthed as, but they did make the decision on…another level. Otherwise we could not interfere and change them within their mothers’ wombs.”

  “So on…some other level…” Jafo waved his hand around for emphasis. “…you’re telling me that I chose to have to make this choice about my life?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please, won’t you be my Protector?” Daria asked and if she didn’t suddenly have the biggest, roundest and most compelling eyes he’d ever seen, pink irises notwithstanding. “We must help my twin, Jafo. We must or all will be lost for Mera.”

  That she knew the name of the planet they were on at her age shouldn’t be surprising considering she was, apparently, at least part dari. That the head dari himself was willing to trust her to Jafo’s care was more than just a little overwhelming. That the process of helping Daria’s twin involved a forbidden trek to land, which meant getting past raksis, nagalas and daris only knew what else, scared him right out of his fins.

  But his conscience had been right. Jafo already had made his decision, when he had chosen to spirit Daria away rather than ensure Jama returned home safely. He looked into Nino’s eyes and saw thousands of the stars usually only seen in the night sky swirling in their irises. The vision swept through him and he felt an utter peace claim his being.

  “You returned,” Jafo said quietly, “because you knew I had made my decision.”

  “Some part of you had,” Nino agreed. “The rest of you needed to catch up.”

  Chin held high in the air, a thrum of combined nervousness and excitement running through his body, Jafo nodded once curtly and said, “So let it be done, revered dari. I agree to become Daria’s Protector, and by the daris will do all in my power to protect her and see your prophecy through.”

  “And in doing so you choose to be transformed from a mundane mer to an imo?”

  Mundane? Jafo scowled. That’s what the daris thought of them as? He wasn’t sure if that said more about mers or daris. But Nino and Daria awaited his response and so he replied, “Yes. I choose the imohood, great dari.”

  Nino raised his arms up high as Daria retreated a few feet. He moved in, so close Jafo could actually feel heat emanating from his body. That lay to rest the question that had been in the back of his mind as to whether or not Nino himself was a projection.

  “So let it be done, Jafo. This will take some time and you must endure a bit of…pain.”

  This would have been good to know beforehand, Jafo thought miserably.

  Nino quirked a brow at him.

  Jafo waved for the dari to proceed before he got cold fins and backed out. He couldn’t help but wonder, as the water surrounding him began to shimmer, if some day he would regret this choice.

  * * *

  “It is me.”

  With the utterance of those words, Omaro collapsed into a heap onto Sirena’s back, shoving her hard enough that she tipped and landed forehead-first on the hard tunnel floor. She groaned in pain and struggled to remove the stars from her field of vision as she tried to shove Omaro away and get herself off Mateo’s legs.

  “Ima?”

  “Mateo!”

  The meranling stirred, but with his hands and feet still bound, couldn’t do much m
ore than roll from his left side onto his back, though a wince told Sirena that wasn’t any more pleasant.

  “Are you well, Mateo?”

  He shook his head no, then glanced to the right at the same time Sirena looked down.

  “Father!”

  He looked like he’d given everything he had left to give in that fight with the Lunan. His hand, arm and bare chest were covered in blood and Sirena only then realized Omaro was nude. She averted her eyes from his groin and focused on his head, which was wobbling precariously upon his neck as he tried to gather himself together.

  A glance back along the tunnel revealed two unmoving bodies and though the torch didn’t throw enough light for a good look, the iron-rich smell of blood assaulted Sirena’s nose and she knew both were dead. As an ima, she was supposed to lament for their souls and pray to the daris when anyone departed near her. The problem was she’d never been taught the prayers’ words, never mind the ceremonies involved with death. Then there was the small fact that she couldn’t feel her arms anymore, wrenched as they were behind her back.

  “Omaro, you must free Mateo.”

  “Mateo,” Omaro whispered, that one word rousing him. “My son.”

  “Father…” Mateo’s voice drifted off and his chin quivered. Sirena watched him force himself to remain calm in the face of the great amount of pain he must be in and marveled at the strength in one so young. Then again, if he was of the daris, she shouldn’t be so surprised, she reasoned.

  Omaro sliced through the bindings on Mateo’s legs, then used that same blood-soaked rock pisa to saw through the ones on the child’s wrists. As Mateo fumbled with his limbs, undoubtedly deadened from the binding, Omaro turned his attention to Sirena.

  “You,” he managed to mumble out, and she turned her back to him. Soon her hands were free and her useless arms began tingling and burning. She hissed air through her teeth and shook them. Mateo, watching her closely, did the same.

  “What…where’s…Ghano?”

  Sirena eyed Mateo and then shook her head. “I do not know where he is, Omaro.”

  The man’s shoulders slumped. Sirena laid one hand, now mostly with feeling restored, upon his bare back. “We must leave these tunnels, for Vago will come looking for Yanko and Qitaro very soon, I am certain.”

  “I know the way out,” Mateo stated, hopping to his feet with a big grin on his face.

  “How can you possibly know the way?” Sirena asked. “You have been asleep the entire journey!”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve been projecting.”

  Even Omaro’s head whipped up at that proclamation. Everyone knew the fables of daris projecting themselves to those over whom they ruled so many aeons past. But most merans treated those stories the same way they treated the prophecy: as fiction with no basis in fact.

  “Mateo,” Sirena said, feeling much of her calmness finally returning to her. She knew without even sending out a mental query it meant Aea was with her. “To whom did you project?”

  “To my twin, of course.” He looked at Omaro, who very much resembled a man dazed by a bright torch being thrust in front of his nose. “You held her, Father. You held my sister.”

  Omaro’s normally dark skin turned an alarming number of shades paler in an instant. “How could you…we never told you…” Whether his voice gave out or his thought processes screeched to a halt, Sirena didn’t know. What she did know was that their most pressing problem was removing themselves from this labyrinth.

  “Mateo, which way will bring us deliverance from the Lunan?”

  He pointed back the way they’d come. “There is a branch to the right which will take us to the appointed place.”

  “Appointed by whom?”

  The little boy half shrugged and moved to Omaro’s side. “Father, are you too badly injured to walk?”

  Still lost in his own disbelief, Omaro could only offer a shake of his head. Sirena didn’t know whether that meant he was okay to walk or he couldn’t walk, but her question was quickly answered as, with a mighty groan, the strong one, as she’d taken to calling him in her mind, forced himself to his feet.

  It left certain parts of him too close to Sirena’s face for comfort and she sprang to her feet as well. Mateo fetched the torch and brought it to her. She gasped when the brighter light shone on Omaro. Almost his entire face was swollen, from his broken nose to his bruised eyes, one black and one purple. From his lips, which had also been cracked and bleeding at some point, to the litany of bruises and cuts that littered his body from neck to feet, Omaro appeared as though he’d been in a fight for his life against a nagala. Maybe even two.

  “What happened?” Sirena breathed, fingers itching to touch. To heal. But could she? She’d only ever attempted patching up very small abrasions on her own arms and legs and even those tiny tasks, without any training to assist her, had been so draining she’d failed more often than not.

  “When we have reached the appointed place, Father, my Protector and I will see to your wounds. Come.”

  Mateo headed back the way they’d come, leaving Sirena and Omaro staring after him…one in awe and the other in shock. The child stopped at Yanko’s and Quitaro’s bodies, raised his left hand over them and closed his eyes. It lasted only a couple of seconds, then he reopened his eyes, stepped over the bodies and continued.

  With a grunt of pain Omaro began to follow. And Sirena, with the torch in her hand, decided to look at the horrific pattern of bruises and cuts along Omaro’s back rather than below his waist. She’d never seen a man completely naked before, not counting this same man in the middle of the night what seemed like months ago. It was embarrassing more than stimulating and somewhere in the back of her mind that bothered her. Shouldn’t seeing a nude man make her feel something?

  Perhaps not. Perhaps as an ima she was doomed to never want that sort of thing. It wasn’t like Aea had ever discussed it with her. How sad that would be if it were true.

  “Who is guiding him?” Omaro wondered aloud as Mateo threatened to disappear from view, moving like he knew these tunnels as well as he knew the back of his own hand. “How can he know what he knows?”

  He is of the daris, whispered into Sirena’s mind. Aea.

  “He is of the daris, Omaro. Should this not convince you, I do not know what would.”

  Omaro said nothing. Perhaps he was still not ready to open his mind to what his son truly was. Or maybe it was simply that he was so battered it took everything in him to walk in a straight line. Whatever the reason, as they moved quickly along the narrow passage Sirena thought about Mateo’s promise to Omaro, that his Protector and he would tend to his wounds upon reaching the appointed place. While she knew full well what a Protector was, Sirena had no idea who was talking about. Omaro hadn’t questioned it…perhaps his Protector was Ghano? Yes, maybe Mateo had somehow found out where Ghano was, and was leading them to him.

  The only trouble with that theory was that Protectors, at least in the legends which spoke of them, had always come from the imohood. You couldn’t become the Protector of a fledgling dari or demidari unless you had been birthed an imo. Ghano was certainly no imo, for she knew him well enough to know that he lacked the hair color, skin color and eye color of imos. In other words, he didn’t look anything like her.

  Sirena stumbled, though there was nothing on the floor to trip her. She was an ima. And as far as she knew, she was the only outsider who’d ever been let into Mateo’s world. But Mateo couldn’t have been talking about her.

  Could he?

  Chapter Five

  Jafo already regretted the choice he had made. He was unable to see anything but the beyond-bright pink light that surrounded him. It was solid and yet pulsed. He could sense that Daria and Nino were near, but couldn’t so much as swish a fin. Thus frozen in place, the first pain arrived. It felt like someone stuck lantak spines through both eyeballs. He couldn’t even squeeze his eyelids shut and some part of his mind screeched in agony.

  The second pain h
it, though it was more discomfort than anything. His entire scalp prickled like he’d gotten too close to a lava flow and when that sensation had barely registered the entirety of his skin from head to groin burned similarly. Now his whole body felt like it’d been thrown into an erupting gunung. He screamed, not even caring how unmanly it sounded. He just wanted it to stop.

  But it wasn’t over yet. The final sensation began just beneath his groin, which he had enough presence of mind to pray would still be intact after all this, where his skin gave way to the scales of his tail. He knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind that Nino was now changing the color of his tail, but why in the name of all that was unholy did it hurt so badly? It was as if his scales were being ripped away one by one, and his entire spine was being broken vertebra by vertebra and then shoved back together. His fins were being torn off like merlings plucked the criss-crossed wings from drowned kinjens and he wondered if it was simply being blinded by the pink light that rendered him unable to see his blood spilling round him.

  A sudden peace overtook him, the pain dissipating as rapidly as it had first appeared within his eye sockets…then his scalp…then his skin…and finally, his tail. The pink light dimmed slightly and took on the look of actually swirling around as though it too, somehow, was actually a living thing. He fleetingly wondered if it was in fact just that, but then it shimmered away to nonexistence and the pintu, Nino and Daria were there as he opened his outer eyelids, then his inner ones.

  Chest heaving, Jafo experienced a sensation unlike he had never known, falling to the floor of the pintu like the dislodged boulder that’d crushed the swimaway merlan from his father’s story. His hands slapped the algae-covered stone and he stared at the backs of his fingers. His skin was no longer pale yellow, but now pale blue…just like Nuelo’s had been.

  His hair drifted forward to surround his face in his prone position. It was very long and pure white. Whiter than the skin of an ikanar…just like Nuelo’s had been. Jafo gulped, pushed himself up from the floor, and buoyancy returned.