Sunborn Rising (18 page)

18. Suspension

Barra was frantic. She attacked the water, claws extended, like the ocean was an animal trying to drown her. Survival instinct oriented her to the surface, but even with her panic-wide eyes straining, the opening to the surface was impossible to distinguish, dark on dark. A close vine drew a line of hope back to the Root, but it was fragile, and it shredded and broke when she tugged at it. Whipping her tail around, she carved arcs into the water searching for a hold, but there was nothing. She was out of breath, her chest convulsing. Bubbles burst from her desperate swipes like small explosions.

The black fuzz of unconsciousness appeared at the edge of her vision, stark reality eaten by shadows. Her limbs felt heavy, her muscles seized, and Barra felt a new kind of fear—a certainty that she was powerless to direct her fate.

As Barra’s eyes rolled back, something coiled around her legs and dragged her down hard. The jarring acceleration pried her vision open and kept her conscious. She looked down and saw three golden eyes gazing back at her. Fizzit smiled. He winked like he’d somehow known she’d look at him right then.

Fizzit flattened his tails into ribbons and used them to funnel the water into powerful jets. He swam faster and faster as he dragged Barra through the ocean, spinning contrails of fine bubbles behind them. Diving toward the colorful gelatinous creatures, he homed in on the sanguine one. Fizzit towed Barra into the blood-red creature without slowing down, released her, and then jetted away. The jelly’s featureless, headless body opened up like a giant, floating mouth—four tentacles trailing behind it like slaver—and swallowed Barra’s head, whole.

The jelly made distressed gestures with its tentacles, but Barra’s vision was collapsing again, and she couldn’t understand. She had to breathe. Nothing else mattered.

Barra drew a shuddering, quick breath.

The ocean water passed through the body of the jelly and became salty air. Barra’s lungs were filled, but she gasped for more. She took fast, coarse breaths that burned her throat, but she barely noticed. Her heart fluttered and she quivered and shook. Shocked to be alive, Barra imagined herself suspended in the ocean with her head encased in red gelatin, and needed a moment to get her bearings. They floated in a narrow, deep trench defined by walls of tangled roots. Beneath them, as far as Barra could see, there was nothing but an endless band of blue, and she was awed by the dizzying effect of height and weightlessness.

Barra’s chest ached. In fact, she was sore all over, but before another thought surfaced, terror struck. She screamed out Tory’s name, and Plicks’, but only incomprehensible cries emerged and foams of bubbles. Barra tried to wrench her head around to see more of the trench, and somehow, the red-colored jelly understood her flailing. With only a few graceful strokes, the jelly maneuvered them to bring Barra’s friends into view.

Plicks was a mottled silver and purple sphere in the water. Air in the shape of mercuric worms slid around his fur, merged, and broke free into metallic globules. Plicks wasn’t alone. A milky-blue jelly held onto him, tendrils belting his torso and flaps covering his mouth. Cloudy whorls formed and dissipated through the jelly’s large flat wings. Plicks seemed okay, as okay as Barra anyway.

Tory was tangled up in the trench wall, and appeared unhurt. He’d also found a friend. The unique jelly creature palmed Tory’s head with long glassy black fingers, each finger capped by a large orb. Many fingers jutted from the jelly’s body in every direction so that Tory looked like he’d sprouted a new head of hair. The entire body of the jelly appeared cracked like fire-charred wood broken by thin lines of orange.

Barra breathed a sigh of relief. They were okay for the moment at least. She touched the sanguine jelly that hugged her face, and found Red’s flesh was firm but pliable. Also, Red’s translucent body seemed to sharpen Barra’s vision under the water. Red’s four most prominent tentacles spiraled around Barra’s arms and legs, and held her fast. Many thinner tentacles like fine hairs were draped in a curtain around her as well. That curtain suddenly rippled to life as Red rotated them, and then accelerated toward Plicks.

Tory arrived just as Barra reached Plicks, and the three gesticulated to one another wildly. Barra trembled. She was exhilarated, and at the same time, exhausted and relieved. Communication was difficult with nothing but dramatic gestures to convey their thoughts, but the bups managed to share their awe. After some experimenting, the bups even discovered they could move.

The sea was full of distracting, blazing bright colors and shapes. Sweeping green ribbons and glowing maroon grasses beckoned dreamily, motivated by a subtle current. There were outlandish flowers with asymmetrical designs and unfamiliar textures. Barra thought she could almost feel the petals through her eyes. She thought about Fizzit forcing them into the water, and was furious with him, but it was difficult to stay angry in such a place—and he did save them too, didn’t he?

Plicks needed a hug, but all he could do was flail his limbs. Somehow, Blue understood. His wings undulated, edges curling in a regular rhythm, and he guided the Kolalabat close to Barra. Uncomfortably close, actually. Barra winced and closed her eyes, but Blue opened his wings wide and hugged them all together. It took Plicks a moment to realize he was getting exactly what he wanted, and he shook all over, happy for the contact.

Tory laughed at the spectacle, bubbles exploding in tight, fuzzy bursts through Char’s body. His laughter stopped short though, as Blue dashed over to give Tory a hug too.

As strange as the circumstances were, Barra trusted the jelly creatures. Still, she wanted to get back to the surface and breathe on her own. Her arm ached, and communication was frustrating without being able to talk. She gestured to the Root above, and shrugged.

Tory waved emphatically with his arms and legs in a caricature of swimming, trying to instigate some movement from Char. They drifted a bit, and rolled, but didn’t get far. Mouthing words at Plicks, Tory tried to ask if he knew how to move, what with the hugs and all, but Plicks only shook his head.

It was Barra who first figured out enough to get moving. She moved her arms and legs slowly, and Red’s tentacles responded. There was confusion, but soon they were engaged in a strange undersea dance. The boys picked up the cues and started swimming around awkwardly themselves.

Barra was a quick study, and she and Red began testing their skill. They swam in and out of the trench walls. Red took control at points, sweeping over slimy boughs, curling around sharp turns, and stopping and starting with brilliant eruptions of her fine tentacles.

Having figured out the movement, Barra turned her attention toward the Root. Before she could begin swimming toward it, she spied Fizzit. Her fur stood up, and she tried to swim toward him, but Red was unresponsive. Pushing and pulling, Barra tried to move, but Red only held her steady. Fizzit dashed away through the water. He split into three long chains of bubbles and dissolved, disappearing completely.

Barra sighed in disappointment. Fizzit was the only creature they’d met since the Fall that seemed to know anything about the Loft. Wishing her mother were there with her to see it all, she understood why her father wrote so much down; he must have wanted to share everything he explored. She took another long look for the three-eyed oddity, decided he was gone, and then joined her friends.

The throbbing pain of Barra’s forearm abruptly sharpened. She examined the wound, trying not to draw attention to it. Dark slime seeped into the water. Red reached around the wounded arm with a writhing tentacle. She squeezed gently, and white suds formed over the slime. Barra felt the pain recede, and her heart went out with gratitude to Red, but there was something else; the tentacle that touched the slime had turned pale and blotchy. Despite the temporary relief, it was obvious to Barra for the first time that the wound wasn’t healing.

19. Undertow

Searching for an opening to the surface was more difficult than the bups would have guessed. Not only was the scenery outlandish and perhaps dangerous, but there were also pockets of air trapped up against the Root, and their reflections imitated holes, leading them astray. There were murky patches, too, obscuring the view, and when Barra reached into one, she had to snatch her hand back fast from the unexpected cold. They proceeded slowly.

For all the worry they could have felt, the search was joyful. The water was warm and they felt weightless in it. The underbelly of the Root was covered with hairy fronds, furry mosses, and colonies of exotic polyps. Although flowers meant light in the Loft, the ocean was full of leaves, petals, and grasses that were opaque, and shone no light of their own. Mysterious and new, if they weren’t so homesick, they wouldn’t have wanted to leave. Barra hoped they would return someday.

As they swam toward another possible opening, Barra and Red came to an abrupt stop. The sudden change demonstrated that Barra’s control could be revoked on a whim, and Barra didn’t like it. Her pulse raced, but she tried to stay calm and trust her sanguine friend. Tendrils danced around Barra as the three pairs of swimmers faced one another. Sudden flashes of color coursed through the creatures. White arcs, orange lines, and red bursts cast severe shadows in every direction. They were communicating, but the message was inscrutable to the bups. After a few rounds of flashes, they all descended together, away from the Root.

Barra was confused and frightened. She struggled against Red, but her resistance was futile. Thinking quickly, the Listlespur slung her tail around a close branch and coiled tightly, but Red was strong. She spiraled a tentacle around Barra’s tail, and with gentle but powerful turns, unwound it from the branch. Barra was on the verge of alarm, but Red stroked her and shimmered faintly in what Barra believed must be an apology. Still, Barra felt the distance from her home and her mother grow, and no amount of calm was going to help the sadness she felt.

They accelerated, descending for several moments before punching into the trench wall. They darted in and out of the close spaces in the floating forest without slowing down. Instinct forced Barra to react as they went, and she felt like she was fighting her way through a crowd of Arboreals. Barra caught glimpses of blue and charcoal as they went, and wondered if Plicks and Tory were feeling the same.

And then, as suddenly as they’d entered the thicket, they shot free into open water.

Barra looked up, trying to gauge their depth, but she couldn’t see the Root anymore. They were in another trench, except this one was roofed, the only opening beneath them. Tory and Plicks appeared. Hovering together, they exchanged questioning looks and gestures, but no answers. Barra wanted to know where they were going, what they were doing, but their companions were in control.

The woods around the bups were covered in swathes of manifold mosses with small flickering creatures bubbling through them. A white star-shaped flower at the end of a long stem probed near the bups and reeled away in a snap when Barra tried to touch it. The flower retreated all the way back to the floating ball of vines from which it grew. The large tangle of vines writhed. White flowers popped open and closed in cascades, and then the entire ball unraveled like a sentient knot undoing itself. The result was one impossibly long and slender sea-creature with hundreds of legs, each tipped with a flower blinking in rhythm. The abyssal creature didn’t
swim
, it
crawled
. It travelled in water the way Barra travelled in trees. Then, entering the trench wall behind them, the creature wove itself into the branches and disappeared. Barra blinked. If she hadn’t just seen it, she wouldn’t have believed it.