by Helen Savore
Alexandrea shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”
“Outside of binding vengeance with Moralynn?” Adhomai drawled in response.
Jamie tugged at her. “Hey, do we have to wait here? I don’t think she’s coming back anytime soon.”
“No.” Alexandrea said absentmindedly. It didn’t make sense, but Adhomai’s words still plagued her.
Jamie stepped away from the bench and offered her a hand. “I think we’ve got better things to do than worry.” He nodded behind them to Adhomai, who remained strangely silent.
“You’re not concerned?”
“I told you, Drea. We got this. Nothing will happen.”
42
Moralynn’s feet were becoming accustomed to the slickness of Viviane’s domain, growing to keep their balance in the ever-present film of water. She imagined the uninitiated falling and tripping if they moved at any speed. Moralynn danced through it, her giddy hops creating ripples across the tight surface.
A month was both slow and long for her, but she waited as Viviane requested. Many a time her mind wandered, worried that the elder myrial had only put her off. However, Viviane was not one to use two words if one would do. She would not have said it if she did not mean it.
With that in mind, the month became short. As much as she had put trust and pressure on Boderien to finish the Grail, it was never certain. His death quenched all hope, and then the chance for the actual Grail arrived. For all she spoke of hope to Alexandrea, she knew that the stipulations of Adhomai’s vision meant it could be some time.
So compared to years, decades, what was a month?
But now that she was here she expected answers, and they did not come. Viviane’s continued silence dragged on Moralynn. Although she had declared herself ally, the myrial was tough to understand. Her behavior was unlike anyone else’s she could recall.
She could not bear the silence any longer. “Viviane, where are we going?”
“To fulfill your obligations.”
Moralynn watched her walk away through the water, leaving small eddies as they passed the stands and lips which included portals. Her breath stilled. “You do not trust my word.” She jogged to Viviane and barred her passage.
Viviane flipped a fin across herself, and the trailing water dripped to the puddle below, created a ring around both their lower extremities. “Yes, and when you return, you prattle like a newborn. Your words are filled with bravado and no sense of duty.”
Moralynn teetered as the circle became a column of water. She tried to step off, but it gripped her feet. The water rose and rotated the pair, until Moralynn stood behind Viviane. The water dissipated, and they sank to the floor.
Viviane replied before Moralynn gained her bearings. “We will be allies, but we do not share this domain. Prove yourself worthy of my friendship. Do not make me regret my decision.”
Moralynn brushed water away and trailed Viviane. “How best do I demonstrate my faith to our alliance?”
Viviane motioned forward.
Moralynn followed. “Why can you not speak here? Your domain is endless uniformity. Iridescent floors, ceilings, and columns. Small rings surrounding pools and portals. What could—” Moralynn stopped again.
A gap appeared on the horizon. The patterns gave way to a wall of water.
“What is this place?”
“Wait.” Viviane wrapped a fin around Moralynn’s hand, and the pair approached the wall. A mist rose from the floor, but the moisture-laden air did not hold the sting of salt expected from the sea.
Viviane nodded to Moralynn. “Walk through quickly. The falls are quite forceful.” She stepped through and disappeared.
Moralynn eyed the curtain and considered changing. The weight would be terrible, but she was afraid to show the change, or fear, to Viviane. She stepped forward.
The deluge overwhelmed her, especially as she found no ground to step upon. She fell, crushed to her hands and knees. Moralynn rolled to locate the ledge but could not. It must have been quite a height. She shook to rid herself of the excess water as she healed and climbed out from under the water.
Viviane was on the floor beside her, sitting with her fins splayed out to the sides, supporting her tilted upper body. “My apologies. I assumed you would perceive the step.” One eye closed. “Are you hurt?”
Moralynn pulled herself out and into a sitting position. “Nothing I cannot handle.”
Viviane lifted a fin. “It is the nexus of this domain. My prison above…”
Moralynn’s eyes rose. She could not see the entrance she knew to be there. The falls filled the ceiling. It was not just the wall of water that rained down, but also columns and watery stalactites.
Viviane pointed next to the sinkhole in the center of the clearing. “And my former home below.”
Thicker water covered the floor, so there was no rim to recognize it. The vortex was a release of sorts for the waterfalls.
Viviane slapped the floor, gathering Moralynn’s attention there instead. It was smoother than those above. A single surface rather than the iridescent tiles. Viviane swirled a fin above it, shifting the last of the water away. Beneath it were images of fae around a stone table.
Moralynn scrambled to her feet and watched the images play out. There were many fae of different types, although a stout dwarf with a brittle beard sat at the head of the oval table.
“You understand my pain,” Viviane said as she continued to play her fins above the glassy surface, her eyes glued to the images. “To watch the world pass you by. See your family and friends continue to live.”
“Mine are all dead.”
“Those who are left.” Viviane’s voice grew softer, and her cadence ignored Moralynn’s remark, until she met her eye. “Dead? Then what do you call your folk? You are Phoenix Sparked, the Earth is your family.” Her tentacles went limp. “The human peoples of that world have passed you by. They have lost magic, but they have grown, yes?”
The finger-fins of her hand traced circles within circles. “I watch above as well as below, so I see it as so.” Viviane stopped her motions and lifted her eyes. They were as dark as ever, leaking ink. “Does it not isolate you?”
Moralynn stared. She did not want to speak of these things, to be pulled into these depressing thoughts. She might no longer have her life, or her family, but there were still things she could set right. She would not lose track of that.
Moralynn was not sure how long they both remained silent.
“If we are to be allies, Moralynn Phoenix Sparked, we shall forge the connection true.” Viviane pointed back to the well. “That is the way. You will pass through and visit the Llehfin Smiths.”
Moralynn gaped. “Llehfin. You are Viviane Llehfin?”
“I was, once. I lost my connection to the Llehfin a long time ago, even before my exile. I still miss them despite the years, and call them family.”
Moralynn put her hands out, steadying herself as she crawled to Viviane. She could not hold herself upright within this constant dribbling and spray of water.
“Viviane, the Llehfin are no more. They were dead centuries before I was born, and that was a long time ago. Everyone knows this.”
She felt a brief sting to her chin and wiped away the strange water.
“Think you know my own history? Look well upon the lot of those who rebel against Oberon. You cry for your family, well, I lost much of mine.” She slapped the water away and traced the ground again. “Some did survive, and they hide. They do not thrive as they once did, but the Llehfin are not dead.”
“There had been no Llehfin-produced goods in centuries—”
“Think you the artisans cannot imitate another’s mark?” Viviane pulled herself up and looked straight out. “These are the Llehfin Smiths. True Smiths. Nothing is outside of their ability to make.”
Moralynn sat back and let her head fall, using her cupped hands to rest. She lay against the smooth surface, with its shifting images. “A True Smith?”
Viviane’s lips turned. Moralynn could not believe it, the myrial was capable of smiling. “There is much you do not know about the craft.”
Moralynn scrambled, trying to find her footing again. “You cannot mean you made this, all this. The passages, the portals? The water, the tile that dampens anything besides water shaping? How can you say that is smithing? A Smith is one who works metal, creating foci.” As Moralynn said the words her mind flashed forward. Boderien, her Life Smith, was not just valuable for the reforging of the Grail, but the way he could manipulate life. Had Viviane manipulated water and the other elements in similar ways?
Viviane approached her, prompting Moralynn to take a step back. Her fin gripped a shoulder. “Moralynn, a Smith can do so much more. That will come later.” She shook her, not hard, but enough to catch her attention. “Not you, of course, but your pupil.”
“Why can I not be made to understand?” Moralynn felt a strange mixture of jealousy and ownership. Alexandrea was her apprentice. An alliance would not transfer the right to Viviane to direct her. But there was also regret. There was something Viviane thought Alexandrea had over her. How could a mortal human better understand this new kind of Smith?
“You are not a Smith. But your pupil, Jamie, is.”
Jamie. Not Alexandrea. “I asked about him before. You said you could not teach him. What has changed?”
“I do not have a forge here. This is not the way to teach infants in the craft.” Viviane swept her fins around, droplets hitting the agitated water of the floor.
Viviane’s eyes twinkled. “Furthermore, I have now seen him in action. When those fae fought you after Harlech, he commanded a foci. That was no mineral shaping he performed. He called the dagger to him, through his will alone.” Viviane’s head dipped as her fins rose. She appeared to examine them. “I remembered the first time I commanded foci. I recognize that will. It can be nothing else.”
She whipped her head up, tossing tentacles into Moralynn’s face.
“I admit I did not believe you before. There are those with some glimpse of the craft, but this is something more. Do you know how long it has been since there has been a Druid Smith?” She sank back. “I had not thought it possible again… Caedyrn… I do not understand why you do not bind him as heir. The last Druid Smith was a Phoenix like no other.”
Moralynn felt ancient, but Viviane spoke intimately of times that were legendary when Moralynn was a child. How old was she? Many had been killed during the massacre of Camlann, and, ever since, war had caused many to not live past a few centuries.
Moralynn truly did not know Viviane, for all their spotty conversations these past months. Moralynn did not like her calling out knowledge of her legacy. Or questioning her decisions. “Alexandrea is heir—”
“—then Jamie is free to bind our causes instead.” Viviane had become the center of a frantic flurry. Her tentacles writhed along with the smaller fins along her entire exposed body. The waters grew around her leg fins, coursing up, then surging down. She was water made of fury and might. “I cannot act in the fae world, but I can start the path. Yes, this time I will not tarry. You will need people to fight against Oberon. Who is more perfect than the ones he subjugated before the humans?”
Viviane’s fury of emotion alarmed Moralynn; she was typically so still. Moralynn knew not what to think. She had never imagined others in her fight against Oberon. Although it had been many years since she had thought beyond obtaining the Phoenix itself.
“If I understand, this starts with me pledging the boy, then you will lead me to the Grail?”
The maelstrom surrounding Viviane shifted from side to side. “I am afraid it is not that simple. We must not only ally, but alloy. To do so, the Llehfin must accept him first.” The waters and her momentum died. “You must find them. Then I will tell you where.”
Moralynn peered down. “I thought you said they were there.”
“I am here, though.”
Isolated, alone, separated. That was what Viviane had said. She considered herself Llehfin, but she was not, she was banished, apart. She had a vision of a plan, except she had not spoken to the Llehfin yet because she could not.
“Am I to be messenger, ambassador, and welcoming committee before you assist me one bit?”
Salt water stung her eyes and battered her throat. “I have been entirely generous with my Waterways. Have you not benefited from several swift escapes?”
Moralynn held up a hand. “Still, you imply I must find a people—a people you have been separated from for many centuries, convince them of your life and that they must accept my human as apprentice.” She dropped the hand and formed a fist. “You send me on a fool’s errand, waste my time, and I shall have no Grail afterward.”
She strode to Viviane and made use of every inch of her height, looming over the myrial. “Do you truly know its location? More than a hint? Or do you play to use me to broker a reunion?” Moralynn shook her hands in the air, near, but not touching, Viviane. “How am I to believe you?”
Viviane stilled. This was the familiar Viviane. “Because Morgana had many lovers and many sons, but only one daughter.”
Moralynn shrank back and walked away. She stared at the coursing water wall, ignoring the assault of the spray.
Viviane’s voice came over her shoulder in halting phrases. “I know you do not like to hear the words left by your predecessor, Merlin. Do you know all he did on that day? His last day?”
Moralynn squeezed her eyes shut and gasped for breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
“No more will I say of your family until you find mine.”
Moralynn vaulted into the vortex.
43
“Drea.” Jamie ran after her, back into the house. “Drea?”
When he tried to enter the hidden passage, he slammed into stiffened air. “Damn!” he yelled. Even with all his healing training it still did nothing for the pain.
He slapped against the wind wall and looked beyond. At least she hadn’t gotten that far. Wind shields or no, he was going to talk to that girl. “Drea, you didn’t have to run away.”
She sat in her large chair, her head tucked into a fold of the back. “I can’t look at you now.”
“Why not?” Jamie slapped the shield again.
Alexandrea’s head came up, and the shield collapsed. She whimpered.
“Drea.” Jamie stepped up other and dragged another chair over. “Why are you upset? I didn’t say anything.”
She spoke into the leather of her seat. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Jamie twitched. He tilted the chair towards her, not getting up, but trying to get a closer look at her. “You didn’t spell me again, did you?” The chair slid and jerked back, the feet thudding on the floor. Too bad the chair was wood, he had no talent for it. He couldn’t keep things still, so he stood and knelt beside her. “Drea, I told you never to do that.”
She spoke over him. “I can see it in your face. I didn’t have to, I’m not going to.” She twisted her head around, and while they were not wet, her eyes shone, and her mouth hung slack. “You want to go.”
Jamie reached out a hand, but she shrunk away from the motion. He sighed. “Honestly? Yes. A little bit.”
This was going to be a long talk, so he decided to try the chair again, this time reversing it and sitting with his arms draped over the seat back.
“All this stuff, different worlds, magic power, creatures chasing me. They’re all things I never understood. This is a chance to learn, and not just any part, but the part I understand least.” He glanced about the room at all the books and all the knowledge Drea had. “The life shaping, once I learned it, made sense. I still have to develop skill in it, but it followed with my life choices. This Smith stuff”—he shook his head—“I don’t even know how forges work in this world.”
She didn’t retreat. Her gaze was on him, but she didn't interrupt.
He slid his hands around the chair’s side and scooted fo
rward a bit more. “Do you remember me telling you that moment when I called the dagger, in the Waterways, right after Harlech?”
She gave a shaky nod.
“That was spooky. I need to understand that last part of me.” He shrugged. “Maybe this is my chance to truly fit in somewhere.”
Worry melted off Alexandrea’s face, only to be replaced with something else. “Fit in?” She shifted, coming out of her corner, and sat in the chair upright. “You were the one who got to be normal. You only found out about the fae months ago.” She grabbed onto the chair’s arms. “I hid on the edge of society for years.”
They were arguing, but this was still the Drea he cared for. She was strong, even amid this crazy world. But that didn’t mean he was going to agree. “That was your choice.”
She stared. “I was alone.”
The silence dragged. What does she expect I’ll say?
“Are you talking about me? Drea, you can’t blame me for going to school.”
“No.” Her eyes flicked to the garden. “Yes, you left, but then my parents…”
“Oh, Drea.” The timing must have been more terrible than Jamie realized, given what she had to have been doing with Moralynn when her parents passed. It was coincidence but that didn’t erase the hurt.
“This is my path. I chose it years ago. It should not be yours.”
Maybe I misunderstood. “Would you rather go to Llehfin?”
She blinked. “You said nothing would happen. Just this afternoon.”
Jamie dropped his head. “I thought she might suggest sending you away, and you weren’t ready. But if you are…”
“What do you mean?”
Jamie gripped the top of the chair with both hands. “You were going on about reconnecting with the modern world.” He pointed towards kitchen. “We were standing right there, you said you had withdrawn. But you were wanting to get back. To be a part of things, to be less alone.”
She put a hand to her mouth. “You thought it would be me.”