Enchanted Ever After (Mystic Circle) (33 page)

In the stillness she became aware of a pulsing, the innate
sound of the planet itself. With a bubbling breath she let herself sink to the
great Pearl, holding pure magic from the earth, and balanced magic. Jenni would
like to see this, but Kiri would never be able to bring her here.

The pearl was the size of a large crystal ball, and set on an
intricately carved stand that reminded Kiri of those supporting fake ivory balls
in Chinatown shops. Very fancy and no doubt dwarven made.

She reached out to brush her fingers on the surface of the
pearl, touch it and finish this test the royals had set her.

And vividly recalled how, in Transformation, she had failed
that mission.

Chapter 34

THEN SHE KNEW.
This special pearl wasn’t hers alone to touch. This test wasn’t a quest for an individual, no matter how smart, how independent, how talented or in control that individual was.

This was a team effort—more, it was an
intimate
effort. And if she wanted to place her palm on this pearl, and, oh, she did!—she would have to accept and acknowledge an intimate bond.

Acknowledge
was the right word. She had an intimate bond with a lover, a bond that could grow if she allowed it. Into what—she didn’t know. But if she didn’t admit it, she would forever be empty in a part of her that should be filled.

There was really nothing wrong with not wanting to share your life, she assured herself—not if that was how your heart truly wanted to live. But avoiding love because you were afraid of pain was a totally different matter.

The Mystic Circle people were the closest friends she’d allowed herself in years, outside of Shannon and Averill.

And wasn’t it time for her to stop being hurt by her parents? And time she grew out of her childhood fear of being abandoned emotionally?

Well, maybe she’d always carry a hurt from her parents, but she didn’t have to make that the central factor of all her heart-decisions in her life. Get over it. Move on.

Grow.

She knew Lathyr loved her—perhaps deeply. Deeply enough to put her wants and needs before his own. Deeply enough to let her come here to touch the great Pearl that he also wanted to see, to experience, but was unable to reach.

By himself.

Time to accept the feelings of her own heart. She loved Lathyr, too. He didn’t abandon her. He stuck with her. He offered love without demanding it in return—and she’d been wary. Time for that to stop. He deserved her love. She’d be wrong in withholding her own feelings, when all she’d have to do is open up and let the love flow both ways.

She wanted him in her life for now and the foreseeable future of always. She didn’t want a life without him.

She wanted to share the great Pearl with him.

So she backed away and rose gently through the sea, letting love, letting hope, carry her upward.

Somehow they should be able to touch the pearl together. She’d provide the pure water magic, he the finesse of experience.

But if not, if they couldn’t do this together, then she wouldn’t do it at all.

Being loved was more important than any outward trappings of respect or fame or status. All this time she’d thought those things had mattered, more than they did.

And she’d been afraid.

She returned to the ledge where Lathyr waited and when he saw her, his serious face glowed with love and he smiled, his gaze searching her face
. You are not as changed as I expected you to be.

But I am changed,
Kiri replied, taking his outstretched hands and pulling them together.
I did not touch the pearl.

She felt the jolt of his surprise.

What! Why not?

Because I learned from the game. This is not a pearl that should be touched by one. Only two.

His eyes looked even bluer to her vision, elven eyes more than mer. Wonderful, cherished eyes in her lover’s face.

Let’s see if we can do this together. You have the experience with shields, and I can feed you water magic and power and maybe get us both down there.

What if we can’t?

She shrugged
. Then we can’t. Being with you, loving and being loved, is more important than status.

Then you love me.

Yes, but you knew,
she said.

Yes, but I didn’t know if you would stay with me.

He, too, had had abandonment issues. And he had had faith, more faith and grace than she.

I’m older,
he said, as if following her thoughts, then a line formed between his brows as he considered the logistics.
If we layer shields, and the innermost links us together with your water magic encasing the two of us, this might work.

All right.
She fed him raw power, her own and a tiny draw on the huge oceans of the earth.

He grinned, shaped the power, slowly, so she could see what he was doing. Then she understood she couldn’t form the shields as he did, perhaps she could never form shields as good as his. He used a little air magic, and she told him so.

He looked surprised, frowned, then nodded and kept on layering the spells around them, cocooning them safely.

And when they were enveloped, she took his hand, smiled at the attraction and the connection between them. His slow smile back at her closed her throat. She hadn’t been a very wise person lately, but accepting love—and
giving
it—had been the best decision she’d made in her life, including becoming Lightfolk.

So they swam slowly down and he exclaimed at the beauty, and the odd creatures, and the landscape and the texture of the water that flowed against the shields in a different manner than usual.

He paused, chest rising and falling hard. Kiri sent elemental water power through their link, saw it bead on his skin, then they dropped another few yards and Lathyr remained all right and the tension in her shoulders lightened.

Together they followed the glow of the pearl, then hovered near it.

She lifted her free hand, fingers spread.

Smiling at her, he did the same, and they curved their palms on opposite sides of the precious gem.

And as she did, the shield over her palm thinned to nothing. Magic. She shot a glance to Lathyr; he grinned and nodded. He felt the pearl, too.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting—a huge flow of power, some electrical shock, a wave of magic, but all that happened was that it gently glowed brighter, dazzling her senses.

Listen,
Lathyr said.

So she did, frowning, because she’d adjusted to the magical glow and saw Lathyr’s head tilted, his body rippling. She closed her own eyes and paid attention. Magic. Vibration. Humming. From the planet itself. Like the dolphin and whale songs, something more sensed than heard, and in a different range than human.

Felt more than heard.

Love.

Love for all its beings. For life from the single cell to those as complex as she and Lathyr.

And with that realization, Kiri also felt the minute pulse of the pearl, and magic seeping through her palm, her own blood falling into the same rhythm of mother Earth.

She was connected with the planet, and always would be, had the magic from the Earth inside her.

She wept.

After long moments, Lathyr said,
Enough. We must go. We must not be greedy and soak up more magic than we need.

With a sigh, she nodded and drew away from the pearl. Her hand tingled and she flexed her fingers, saw Lathyr do the same. A slight pull from him had her spinning into his arms and she let him swirl her around in pleasure.

Thank you, my lady, my love, for bringing me with you.

It would have meant less without you.

I do not know if the royals will accept you, or that you took me with you.

She laughed, and it was free and easy, and she was free of her own ambitions, living in the moment, accepting what life had for her, not struggling.
Failed Goal? Like in the game?
She laughed again.
I don’t care.

Good.

Besides, if this is THE test to become a Water royal, and no one but a complete water elemental could do this, the king must have helped his lady, right?

Lathyr grinned.
Right.

Peace lasted until they were a few yards away from the trench.

Hello, human baby merfem.
It was a rough purr from a huge shadow separating itself from the gray landscape.

The great Dark one.

I’ve come to eat you and your little magic.
Large rubbery lips smacked. The huge head turned, a wide eye staring at Lathyr.
And I get another snack, too.

Kiri shuddered.

We go—
yelled Lathyr.

But a white-fireball-energy pulse hit her—hit them—scrambled her mind. Hurt!

You STAY,
the great Dark one gloated.

Lathyr’s jaw flexed.
We can’t go. My location sense is seared for the moment.

She didn’t ask for how long. She knew. Too long.

He separated from her, and most of the protection bubble snapped around her.

No!
she protested.

But he pulled a long sword and a short wavy dagger and prepared.

Another ball of energy. Yellow. They dodged.

Kiri scrambled to comprehend the fight. She had no weapons.

Then Lathyr closed with the monster. Lathyr was fast and agile and clever. He turned and struck the Dark one’s head, zoomed away, flipped and came back, ducking and weaving, for the thing’s throat. Hit, but did not cut a major artery. Dashed away and went
through
a leathery-looking wing, slashing it into more shreds.

The Dark one shrieked, sending a sound wave through the water that had Kiri tumbling, losing her bearings. This time she didn’t move quickly enough and a green forceball hit her tail. She heard bones snap.

Lathyr shouted at the same time she did. A swipe of the giant’s clawed hand raked his side.

Using magic, Kiri grabbed him to her. He lost his dagger as he slapped a hand against his wound. His hardscale had ripped open, blood looking black in the water. Bringing more predators.

Her tail was damaged. She couldn’t take him away, feared for them both if she convinced him to take droplet form. They wouldn’t survive.

The great Dark one was circling back.

They couldn’t survive him, either. They were going to die. Lathyr was too wounded to fight and she too inexperienced to win against the Dark one.

There was only one thing she could do.

Help! Great Dark one. Mariana Trench. HELP!

The Dark one’s laugh rolled to her, hit her like a nasty, sticky web, flipped her broken-tail-over-head. Lathyr passed out.

Yeah, the Dark one was powerful.

Kiri grabbed Lathyr and hauled him down into the trench, using arms and magic to propel them. Where was that shelf? Where, where? She found it, frowned and with a thought summoned a rope to her hand. She settled it around him, tied him loosely to the ledge so he wouldn’t sink and perish while unconscious, and wouldn’t rise and be prey for others. She hoped.

She hoped she’d have the chance to learn of the oceans from him.

You think to hide from Me in there?
Pure contempt in the mental blast that sent her head hitting the side of the trench. Ow!

She didn’t know the thing’s capabilities.

Maybe,
she sent a whisper and a tiny trail of bubbles. He would follow her. He wouldn’t look for Lathyr. Perhaps she’d saved her love.

And the pearl. She understood the Darkfolk weren’t like the Light. The Dark gobbled up power from anywhere, anyone, anything. They were not elemental beings.

Could it descend to the great Pearl? Besmirch it? Break the threads between the pearl and all life?

She couldn’t risk that, either. She sensed something really bad would happen if he got his claws on it.

She sobbed. Quieted. Saw the skim of his body as a black shadow in the water. He leaked blood, ichor, stuff. That was good at least.

Forcing herself to relax, she formed an image in her head of the speargun and spear-quarrels she’d used before. In the game she could bring weapons to her. Maybe in reality she could, too. A small chance to fight and put off her death as long as possible.

Perhaps take the thing with her when she died.

How the gun felt in her hands. The sting of silver as it brushed her fingers.

Silver, yes! And with that need, the gun slipped into her grip, just there.

She blinked and blinked again. Couldn’t see down here even with her second eyelids. How fast was the monster healing? She’d better get up there and give the battle her all.

Fight to the death.

She’d done it in the game, seen her avatar motionless on floors, in caves, in forests.

This was real and she
hated
it.

Must save Lathyr. Warn the others again.

Go out fighting.

She angled up out of the trench. The monster saw her sooner than she’d wished, laughed again, but she used her draining energy and magic to stay in place, masking the speargun. It didn’t seem to sense the silver or the gun.

She filled her bilungs, and with oxygen came power from the ocean, a trace even from the pearl. Enough to steady her nerves, set aside the fear making her hands tremble.

Closer, closer. There! Huge nasty eye. Creepy zombie hair. Shoot!

Hit!

Horrible scream. Move, move, move,
fast.

Maybe could blind it. Maybe.

Thrashing stopped and gigantic anger whipped toward her, hitting like stinging blows. Should she be that sensitive? Losing magical shields.

HELP!
she screamed again.
HELP, Dark one, MARIANA TRENCH. TO ME!

White waterspouts churned around her, bubbling, then
people
were there. Mers. The King and Queen of Water. The Seamonts.

The guardians.

Others.

The Dark one roared—backswam a bit, then began to circle in his attack path again.

A merfem sent Kiri a filthy look and vanished.

Formation!
snapped the Water King, a huge and threatening trident in his hand.
Net!

I HATE fighting underwater,
Vikos, the dwarf guardian said. He scowled at Kiri.
Good use of your magic, though. Good summons, not binding. Only requesting. Good.

Silver weapons gleamed as mermen and merfems took position behind the Water King. Kiri strove to swim to the battle triangle. The Water Queen stopped her.
Where is your mate! Where is my nephew! He lives?