Beneath the Thirteen Moons (22 page)

Spirit-friend.

Mahri started. It would take some getting used to, this new ability to hear her pet’s thoughts.

Jaja, I’m busy.

No more root,
he thought-answered.

Mahri Twisted and Pushed another wave. Thank-the-moons they’d stumbled onto a tree that grew the zabba vine when they’d traveled through the Unknown. One did not ignore such a find. They’d harvested as much as
they could store to supplement the zabba that Korl had provided her with.

Do you think you can reach the secret compartment?

Sure, sure,
came the confident reply. But Jaja still had a death-grip on her belt against the bucking and rolling of their small craft.

Mahri felt the Power draining from her too quickly as she fought the rebellious water for control.

“Sometime soon, Ja!” she shouted, her words lost in the thunder of the sea.

Lightning cracked and Jaja leaped beneath the tent. Mahri felt a sudden shudder of fatigue sweep through her body, the first sign that her system faltered from lack of root. Another tumbling crash of wave broke over them and this time when she Pushed at the water it responded stubbornly. The deluge caught them halfway out from under it.

The force of the water slammed across her shoulders and head like a giant wet hand, shoving her to her knees. Mahri heard the timbers in her boat crack before she saw the flying pieces, and then for a moment only muffled sound as she sank beneath the water.

She fought against the weakness of zabba use and made her trembling muscles kick for the surface, opened her mouth and screamed Jaja’s name. Nothing lay around her but water, no small head bobbed within her sight, not even a piece of wood to be seen from her destroyed craft. But her pet had more chance of surviving than she, for he swam like the fish he was, and could stay submerged for a long time without coming up for air.

But the supply of zabba went down with her craft and she had barely enough Power in her system to keep
herself afloat. Mahri tasted the sourness of true fear, and choked and swore at the way it sapped her of hope.

She closed her eyes against the salty sting of spray and told herself to think. She had to find Jaja. Maybe he managed to get some root before that wave hit. It could be their one chance. And she opened her mouth to scream his name again when she remembered that they now had another method of communication.

Jaja? Jaja!

No answer, and she didn’t know enough about this thought-speech to know how close he needed to be to hear her. Did distance matter, is that why he didn’t answer? Or could he have gotten hurt from the force of the wave, a splinter of wood through his small body? Mahri told herself to stop imagining such things.

Another heave of water lifted her into the air and for a moment she rode the top of a gargantuan wave. Lightning cracked and lit the stormy night, but nothing lay below her but dark swells. And then the wave threw her back down.

Jaja!

Water slammed into her mouth like a fist, forced its way into her lungs. Ach! How it burned! The pain of it made her panic, gave her new strength, so that she kicked for the surface with renewed vigor. But Mahri no longer knew in which direction the surface lay.

It should take longer than this to die, she thought wildly, and used the dregs of Power left in her to force oxygen into her abused lungs. She wouldn’t give up so quickly!

Then the water surrounding her calmed and she floated in tranquility. Her vision faded to an inky blackness so she sought the inner one, cursing herself for not
using the rest of the Power to See with her mind. But oddly enough she realized that she did See a light, beckoning to her through the black, and she went toward it, sluggishly at first and then with a speed that hurtled her straight into it.

Mahri blinked, or thought she did, unsure if she had lids to blink with. The Healer’s Tree stood before her and the light that beckoned had been the beacon that Korl had sworn to leave burning for her. She walked— no, floated—into that room and seemed to hover somewhere near the ceiling.

Vases and pots and baskets of flowers covered the room, so that only a small space of floor from the door to the bed lay bare. But even that small area lay covered in white flower petals, with mounds of them heaped atop the bed.

She felt choked with some unnamable emotion, some new sensibility created by the thought of Korl spreading freshly plucked petals in the hopes that she’d return to share them. How could she not love him? Cowardly to admit it when she knew she was about to die, but finally admit it she did. And Mahri opened her inner self, like one of those flowers unfolding to seek the warmth of the sun.

The door opened and he stood there, the light shining in his golden hair, casting shadows along his profile. Korl walked over to the window then back to sit on the bed, his hands clenching into sudden fists, crushing several unfortunate petals.

Korl?

His head snapped up and he looked toward the window. “Mahri?”

Aya.
She’d forgotten the sound of his voice, they way it made her shiver. And how the feel of his golden mind
inside her head created another warmth that spread like a comforting balm. Yet, there was something else…

“Where are you?” He strode to the window and looked out.

I… I think I’m a ghost.

“A what? What happened?” And he clutched at his head, as if just now realizing that her voice came from within.

I’ve drowned, I think, in the sea Beyond the Unknown. But Korl, there’s something here…

His face had turned as white as the petals, then flushed with renewed arrogance. “No,” he commanded. “I do not give you leave to die!” Then he fumbled at a pouch strung at his waist and determinedly began to chew handfuls of zabba. His eyes flashed with the fire of root Power.

“Stupid bird,” he muttered between mouthfuls. “Should’ve kept you caged, instead of letting you go off to die in some Unknown place.”

A dark speck that had crept inside Mahri’s mind when she’d opened herself to Korl began to expand into a filthy cloud.

Through the open door strode another figure, a monk-fish perched on each black clad shoulder.

Behind you!
Mahri thought-screamed.
The blackrobe!

Korl reacted with the speed of a warrior, pulling the ceremonial sword from the scabbard at his hip and whirling to face the shadow behind him. But then he froze, held in thrall by the Power of the two monk-fish.

The fog in Mahri’s mind expanded, tendrils of inky slime beginning to trace a path along the green pathways of her Power. The blackrobe tried to use his pets to
force
a Bond with her!

“No!” bellowed Korl, knowing what the man attempted to do, his own link with Mahri keeping open the door that allowed it to happen.

From you to me,
thought Mahri.
Jaja said I’d have no protection in the Unknown. Break the link, let me go, or he just might succeed.

“You finally seek me out and I have to let you go?” Korl vibrated with frustration. “I want to keep you inside of me always!”

The contrast between the prince’s golden presence and the foulness of the blackrobe was balanced only by the monk-fish. However they’d been forced to participate in this Bonding it wasn’t willingly and they did what they could to stop the advance of the evil one. But what Mahri had always feared would happen with Korl began to overcome her in that blackness. She began to lose herself.

Korl felt her fade, renewed his struggle against the Power binding him, and swung his bone sword in a wide arc, straight for the throat of the blackrobe. “I’m always allowing you to leave me!”

A scream of pure agony rent the air as Korl’s sword swept the blackrobe’s head from his body, the two monk-fish barely avoiding that flash of blade.

At the same instant, Mahri felt both of them leave her mind, allowing her to be blissfully alone again. And she felt a pull on her that became a brutal yank as the room faded in her Sight to be replaced by a glowing brilliance of green fire.

Power! Korl fed her discarded body Power that swept through her system and brought her soul slamming back into it. Mahri felt the pain again, of lungs drowned and
unmoving, and wondered what he’d gained her. Perhaps some more time only, for how could she reach the surface, still not knowing in which direction it lay? But even more, if she managed even that feat, without her boat she had no chance of ever crossing that large expanse of sea into the shelter of the trees.

Through almost numb skin she felt the touch of her monk-fish.
Jaja?

Bump head. Back now. See big fins?

Mahri’s head spun. Big fins? What did he mean? She couldn’t See anything, with the Power or otherwise… and then she remembered that new ability, and quested with her thoughts. Yes, a school of narwhal swam far beneath the fury of the stormy sea. Big fins, indeed.

Jaja’s thoughts broke through her own.
You speak. No listen to little me. My mind like gnat-fish on such big back.

Mahri shuddered. To touch the thoughts with a creature as old as the sea—they knew things her mind couldn’t encompass. But what choice had she? She sent out a plea, tentative at first, then stronger as she met no resistance. Down to the depths spiraled her thought-quest, and she sensed one, two, three of the beasts. They ignored her as slightly more of a nuisance than a gnat-fish.

Again,
demanded Jaja.

So she held strong, sending until she touched a youngling, who answered her out of sheer curiosity.

Who are you?

One who needs help.

Aaah.
A long, thoughtful pause followed.
You’re one of the
aliens, yes?

Mahri had always thought of the natives as the aliens, not her own kind. But the creature was right.
Aya.

You break my peace.

Mahri waited. Evidently peace was the order of their universe and his thoughts radiated her disruption of their placidity. Would his youth be in her favor, that he’d seek a little diversion? That he’d answered her at all seemed a miracle.

I like your mind,
responded.
New, different ways of thought. And there is another strong one, who calls to you. Can you not hear?

Mahri wondered—could it possibly be Korl?

Aah.
Another long sigh.
Names are meaningless, souls are all. I will help you. Such a shame for one so loved to die.

And after what seemed an eternity she felt the smoothness of the whale’s skin beneath her, lifting her up to the surface of the ocean, into a night that slowly calmed as the storm passed. Mahri used the Power to Push her lungs and heaved up enormous amounts of saltwater. She gasped for air and fought against the pain until she could Heal herself and then blinked, unbelieving, as the huge creature beneath her began to move through the sea.

Jaja patted her cheeks and chirped small, joyful noises at her as they headed toward home.

I
T SEEMED THAT GOING AROUND THE
U
NKNOWN ON A
narwhal was faster than going through twisted channels on a boat; only a few days passed before they reached the outskirts of the swamps that sheltered her sister-in-life’s village, and Mahri was forced to make a decision sooner than she’d thought.

Stay, or continue on to the Palace Tree?

She ran her palms across the rubbery hide of the narwhal, small rivulets of water from their passage through the sea flowing over her fingers. Just because she’d admitted her love for Korl didn’t mean anything had changed. He was still a Royal, the heir to Sea Forest, and she just an ignorant water-rat. A smuggler of root who stood for everything the Royals did not—freedom of knowledge and Power.

And she still feared Korl. His demands that she become one with him in every way, through a merging of minds that threatened the individuality of her very soul, were intensified by the encounter with the blackrobe. She’d felt what it would be like to be consumed by another and Korl offered her no compromises. It would be all or nothing.

Jaja slapped her upside the head.
Go back now?

She scowled, knowing he didn’t refer to the village but to the Palace Tree. Although one thought away from deciding to return to the warmth of Korl’s arms, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Their entire world would
have to change for them to be together and she didn’t believe it ever could.

My thanks, great one, for your help,
she thought to the massive beast beneath her.

Cold, lazy thoughts touched her own.
Anytime, alien from the
stars. Your thoughts are most… interesting
.

Mahri flushed, leaped down to the whale’s flipper and dove into the sea, Jaja chattering angrily, but only a splash behind. How much of her thoughts had the great creature shared? That crack around her mind-barrier felt wider and made her feel a bit more vulnerable, yet oddly enough she had no desire to seal it again, as if the gift of communication with the narwhal was worth the price of her own privacy.

She reached the roots of a small sea tree and crawled across it, wishing she had zabba to heal the injuries she’d acquired during that storm. Her lungs ached from the exertion of that short swim and she’d suffered from shortness of breath even while sitting still.

Mahri used the tree trunk to gain her feet and looked up at the narwhal as it swam out to sea. She swallowed. That black shiny hide gleamed in the sunshine, still towering over her even at this distance, and she marveled that she’d dared to ride atop such a magnificent wild being. The snout rose briefly, the silver horn that lay embedded there raised as if in silent salute, and a fountain of water sprayed from the blow hole, droplets glittering like crystals in the sun.

Farewell
, drifted a final thought.
Let us play again, soon
.

She nodded, a sickly grin across her lips. Being drowned wasn’t exactly her idea of a game she’d like to play again.

The village still lay some distance into the trees and Mahri began to walk the branches, trying hard not to mourn the loss of her craft. It had been formed by her Wilding mother for her father, many moons ago, and she didn’t possess the skill her mother had with the Shaping of wood, her own affinity with water predominant. Any boat she made would be lucky to float.

She reached for a vine, tested the strength, then swung across to another tree, careful to avoid a nest of firebugs on landing. Jaja rode her shoulder but refused to speak to her, his thoughts vibrating with disgust at her decision to return to the village instead of the palace.

When they reached their destination they were met with a bustle of activity. Mahri wiped a tired hand across her brow and blinked at the rows of boats filled to bursting with gear. It had been some time since the village had moved, why were they packing up now? They hadn’t harvested all of the zabba in this area yet.

Mahri desperately hoped it wasn’t because Korl had betrayed their location.

She sought Caria’s home and pushed open the skin door. Except for a few broken seashells scattered across the floor, the rooms were bare. Too tired to even seek out her sister-in-life among the throng of people around the boats, she sat outside the shelter and leaned against the wall-branch and dozed.

Tiny fingers patted her face. “Jaja, stop it.”

A high, feminine giggle responded and Mahri woke, unaware that she’d even drifted off, and looked into the impish face of her niece. “Hello, Sh’ra.”

“Hi,” the little girl replied, her gaze lowered to the ground, a small, brown toe prodding at a bit of leaf.

“Where’s your mother?”

The child shrugged and Mahri sighed.

“You do remember me, Sh’ra?”

“Oh, yes.” Her niece raised her eyes and Mahri sucked in a breath. “You’re my auntie who saved me from the fever.”

Mahri nodded, still unbelieving. Sh’ra’s eyes sparkled with the Power of zabba!

“You chew root, child?”

“Aya, just like you. That’s why we’re going to the city.”

“You’re what?” Mahri’s voice had almost shouted that question, and she’d risen to her feet, making her head spin so badly she had to shut her eyes. By the time she’d opened them again the girl had disappeared.

What had she meant, they were going to the city? Why would they leave the swamps? What had happened while she’d been gone?

“Jaja, find Caria and bring her to me. Now!”

The monk-fish flew from her shoulder in response to the demand in that voice and disappeared over the side of the branch, to return after what seemed a long time later with her sister-in-life in tow.

“Mahri!” exclaimed Caria. “Where on Sea Forest have you been?” And she captured her in a hug of welcome that caused tears to roll down both their cheeks.

It was some time before Mahri could disentangle herself from Caria’s hold. “Never mind that—tell me what’s going on here.”

Caria dropped her arms and stood back to study the redhead. “Well,” she said, “you don’t look like a queen to me.”

“What… What are you talking about? And when did you test Sh’ra for root tolerance? You know how dangerous it is to expose her at such a young age! And by-the-moons, what’s all this talk about going to the city?”

Caria took a deep breath. “Sh’ra discovered a small patch of zabba herself and she scared me to death after we discovered she’d chewed it but she had the tolerance and thank-the-moons you’re back, we now have a guide to the city and you’ll have to wait for the answers to the rest of your questions until we’re on the boat.” And with those hurried words she spun and ran back to the dock, leaving Mahri no other choice but to follow.

Then she was swept into a crowd of confusion, people saying goodbyes, for only a third of the village was going to the city. Mahri caught a glimpse of Trian, one of the few that were staying behind, and the man had his arm wrapped protectively around a pretty blonde woman.

“His lifemate,” hissed Caria, appearing at her shoulder. “He gave up on you after hearing of your own joining with the prince.”

Mahri met Trian’s gaze and smiled, hoping she conveyed her happiness for him with that look. He responded with a grin, and the blonde smiled back at her too, then huddled closer to the big man at her side.

Mahri felt Caria’s hand push her forward and she lost sight of the couple in the crowd.

“Come along, we’ll follow your boat,” said her sister-in-life. “Everyone’s so grateful that you’re going to be our guide.”

Mahri felt dazed. Had she agreed to lead this excursion? But her assent didn’t seem to matter, and it seemed
to be the only way she’d be able to get the answers to her questions.

“I don’t have a boat… any longer.”

Caria’s mouth gaped, then she snapped it shut. “Well, then. You’ll ride in ours.” And maneuvered her toward the most heavily laden of the tiny fleet.

“Which way?” asked Wald, his big frame balanced in the middle of the boat, a wooden pole clutched in one beefy hand.

“To the city?”

“And sure, where else?”

Mahri shrugged weakly and gestured at the third branching channel on the right. With a grunt Wald set their craft in that direction, the rest of the fleet following right behind.

The deck lay so crowded with belongings that Mahri had to weave her way to where Jaja sat in his usual place at the bow. The monk-fish kept striking his fist forward over the water and turning back to look at her with a triumphant gleam in his brown eyes.

Just because we’re going to the city doesn’t mean we’re
returning to the palace
, Mahri thought at him.

Jaja shrugged in a “we’ll see” motion and stuck his fist defiantly forward again.

Mahri spun, spied the top of Caria’s head just behind a tall box, and crawled over to her. “I’ll be having those answers, now.”

“Of course, if you’re sure Wald won’t be needing your guidance?”

Mahri frowned. “It’ll be a while before we’ll need to change passages.”

Caria shooed Sh’ra up to the bow with a promise that Jaja would play with her, then folded her hands into
her lap and cocked her head. “First, just answer me one question. Where have you been?”

“To the Unknown, and Beyond.”

Blonde eyebrows rose in amazement and Mahri was tempted to tell her that she’d ridden a narwhal. But even Caria’s imagination had its limits, and besides, she had too many questions already, to invite any more.

“Why?”

“No you don’t. You said one question and that’s it. My turn. What’s possessed you people, that you’d go to the city?”

Caria leaned beneath the opening of a tent and emerged with a handful of dried fruit and fish. “You eat while I talk, deal?”

Mahri reluctantly agreed, but after her first bite she realized how hungry she was for a cooked meal. and ate with relish.

“The king has changed the laws.”

Mahri’s eyebrows rose but she continued to chew.

“He’s decreed that all knowledge is now available to anyone who wishes to seek it, and has turned the Seer’s Tree into a public place of learning.”

Mahri choked. That hallowed of all places, open to water-rats? Years of secrecy suddenly exposed—had the king gone mad?

“Furthermore,” continued her sister-in-life, as if she quoted from the document of decree herself, “although zabba will continue to be regulated to those qualified to use it, it’s no longer illegal for a non-Royal to have it in their possession without special permission from the king.”

Caria leaned over and pounded Mahri on the back
when another fit of choking overtook her. Her damaged lungs made her wheeze and she couldn’t speak. Generations of hoarding zabba and the Power had come to an end, yet she couldn’t imagine the king making those kinds of decrees unless something dire had happened.

Their entire world had changed while she’d been roaming the Unknown.

Mahri froze at that thought, understanding dawning on her. What had Caria said earlier? About her being a queen? “It’s Korl, isn’t it? He’s become King of Sea Forest and made all these changes, hasn’t he?”

Caria nodded. “The old king died and named Korl as successor. And sis,” her voice lowered, “the decree not only forbids the Hunting of a Wilding, but orders them welcome to learn from the Masters.”

Indeed. Mahri’s head swam. Prince of Changes, wasn’t that what the aliens had called him? Didn’t they hope that he’d set in motion the means for all humanity to have the ability she’d gained, to See with her thoughts into all of Sea Forest? And she’d played right into their hands, with her strong will and need for freedom. Had they known all along that she’d leave him, that he’d make these changes so that she’d come back to him?

And she’d thought they didn’t know humans at all.

Mahri shook her head, amazed at her own arrogance. What made her think he did all of this for her? And she’d accused him of being conceited! He could’ve made these laws in response to his time in the swamps, perhaps because the natives had sought him out while she was gone, to convince him of the need for change.

No, no. They couldn’t speak with him! As far as she knew, that dubious honor had only been bestowed on her.

She shivered with a sudden, manic surge of joy. Could it be possible that he had changed their world for them, to one that they could share together?

There was one way to find out.

Mahri crawled over boxes. “Wald.”

“Ya.”

“Move over.” And she flicked her wrist, extending her bone to pole length. Wald sat down, acknowledging her greater experience in poling, and drew a long swig from the flask at his belt. Caria sat beside him.

“Do you have any zabba?” asked Mahri. Wald tossed her a pouch and she grinned. “Is there anyone else in this fleet with enough Power to Push the water?”

“Sh’ra has that affinity,” announced Caria, her voice full of pride.

Jaja
, thought Mahri.
Bring the child to me.
And then she said aloud to her sister-in-life, “Is that why you’re going to the city, to have Sh’ra taught?”

Caria nodded. “But even though Wald and I don’t have enough tolerance to Push, only to sometimes See, we still want to learn anything they’d be willing to teach us. Two hands will always be useful, don’t you think?”

“With minds like yours behind them,” assured Mahri. She chewed root while she continued to pole, felt the Power flow through her pathways and turned sparkling eyes on her niece. “Your instruction will begin now, little one. For there is swamp-knowledge, too. Which is just as important as book-learning, aya?”

Chestnut curls nodded and Mahri shifted her Sight and helped the girl See into the water.

“Sh’ra?”

“Aya, Auntie?”

“Look into the trees. Do you, ah, See anyone?”

Her niece’s head snapped upward. “Just leaves and birds. And vines, and stuff. Am I supposed to See something more, Auntie?”

Mahri swallowed.

“No, child,” she whispered as her olive-green eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them the natives still stood there, lined along the bank of the channel, strings of coral and feathers decorating their scaled bodies, webbed fingers spread in gestures of farewell.