Blue Moon (39 page)

He skidded to a halt along the edge.

"Jump,” he said, holding out his arms.

"You'll fall through.” She cradled the bag in her arms. He could see the magic creeping along the edges of her island. She was sinking. Below him, the network of cracks was growing, magic seeping through.

"No, I won't. Jump."

She did. He caught her, arms around her waist, managing to keep his balance. He grinned at her.

"See?"

He stepped back ... and through the glass.

She took a deep breath like a swimmer diving as they plunged deep into emerald-colored magic. She lost sight of him for a moment. Suspended in an emerald world, she felt completely alone until the dragon enveloped her in his claws as they spun into the depths.

—
Alex?
she thought to him.
I think I can breathe.

—
I wouldn't recommend it.

—
Then what do you propose I do?

—
Hold on. There's gotta be a way out. If we stay in this vein of magic, we might make it.

She nodded as she felt him change direction, kicking away from the center toward the darker depths under the castle.

—
A little to the right,
she thought.
You're heading towards red magic.

She felt a lip of stone beneath her. She communicated the experience to him, and he dove for it, taking them up the channel. She exhaled, and saw the magic swirl away with her breath. Her face was clear of it for a moment in which she almost dared to breathe; then, it was back across her face, wet but not clingy. Like mercury.

—
Would it make me like you, Alex, if I were to breathe?
She felt a bit of sorrow push against her heart.
No, huh?

She felt him burst upwards, attempting the steepest climb possible. She broke free first and grabbed the bank. His climb out was slower, harder. He shook himself like a dog, flapping his wings to get rid of the green glow that rolled off like water off wax.

"We were lucky,” she said.

—
Thank God.
He reached for her again, and she could feel the weariness as he pushed off into the sky.

They landed in the courtyard.

"You're safe,” Zorovin said. He was a man again, his hair a pale halo tainted by the steadily climbing moon. Dashiel sat beside him, wagging his tail. Behind them, Rita balanced on the parapet.

—
You were supposed to breathe,
she said sadly.

Libby spoke back the same way.

—
Alex said I would die.

—
Alex does not want you to live, truly live,
Rita hissed back.
I gave my love to his father, and what did he do? What has it gotten me?

Libby felt sorrow like a dozen bricks hanging from her heart.

"You're mad,” she blurted aloud.

Zorovin looked at her then turned toward the parapet. Rita had disappeared.

—
What's going on, Libby?
Alex asked.

"I don't know,” she whispered. Then she shook herself and said, “Alright. We fell for the easy bait. Now where?"

Zorovin frowned. “It is obvious that we won't be able to guess through logic where he hides, so we will have to search room by room."

Libby shook her head, looking up. “I don't think that's the tack to take. I mean, we were wrong to look indoors at all..."

Six eyes followed line of sight up to the spires that rose so high and sharp they seemed to pierce the moon.

"He'll want the world to see his greatest triumph."

"Aye,” Zorovin agreed.

Captain Cearvus looked at the calendar. It was a glass bowl with a handful of precious stones in it. He counted them in his palm, and cursed Bronwyn for leaving him worried and without knowledge. He dropped the gems back, and one bounced out of the bowl and landed on the table. It glinted in the fearful blue beams of the moon. That damned blue moon.

He looked up at it, gritting his teeth. It looked back, baleful and cruel. She would be here, the one they feared most. She would cross the boundaries and be looking for them.

"No word?"

He turned to see Dare next to him. He was staring at the jewel on the table.

Cearvus sighed. “None."

"This is unlike her,” Dare said. “We must go inland, search for her."

As if to punctuate his demand, a flash illuminated the sky. It was miles away, but they could see it clearly, understood what it meant.

"Helmsman?"

"Captain?"

"Take us inland."

Silence. No one wanted to go inland, risk meeting the queen upon her return.

"Now,” he said in a quiet voice. It was a tone that even Isis was known to heed.

"Aye-aye, Captain."

They traveled along the waves, cutting through them, taking the hidden paths to save time. They ran the rim of the Pacific triangle and shot across leagues of sea in moments then turned to port and headed for the land ahead of them.

There was a jarring lurch when they hit the shore, and their progress slowed slightly. Trees parted in front of them, closing behind them again like the waters of the sea. The ground parted, too, and knit itself back, as if they had never passed. The roads they crossed, however, remained churned up, as did anything else manmade that had the misfortune of being in the ship's path.

They passed silently, sailing down the main street of town, avoiding houses and cars. Cearvus stood on the prow, his people gathered silently behind him. Most had not seen land in years, had no idea what their human counterparts had done in the time since the parting of science and magic.

People looking out their windows thought it was a trick of the fog, or an illusion.

"We will get her back?” Isis whispered.

"Aye.” He took her hand. “I promise."

Sails full of wind, masts and hull wreathed in mist, the ghost ship steered silently towards its lost daughter.

Rita appeared again, like a ghost, beside Zorovin. Libby thought of her recent actions and grieved. She had only known Sierra a short time, but now that she was back to being Rita, she missed her. Hell, she simply missed her sister, whoever she really was, the Rita she'd known years before. This half-ghost stranger bore little resemblance to her.

"I will lead you,” Rita said. Zorovin looked at her with cold eyes. “I will. I promise. I know where we have to go, and I will make sure that we get there."

He nodded. “Lead the way, then, Rita."

"Not Sierra?"

Zorovin shook his head sadly. “I don't know who you are. You feel like Sierra, sometimes, in my head, but you do not always act like her."

"Oh, and you knew me so well,” she said bitterly.

"I thought I did."

Libby listened to this exchange, and realized that Zorovin was as confused as she was. Sierra had
felt
like her sister. This woman did not. But, just like Zorovin seemed to, she wanted to believe.

Alex and Dashiel had led them to a tall, spiral staircase, partially enclosed.

"We can't afford to lose Libby, so why don't two of us go ahead and the rest wait here,” Alex suggested.

"Why don't you two go ahead?” Rita-Sierra said, pointing to the dragons.

"I wouldn't want to look like a chauvinist,” Alex said.

"One man's chauvinism is another man's chivalry,” she said sweetly, and Libby laughed.

"Go on,” Libby said. “If she doesn't behave Dashiel can rip her throat out.” She slanted a glance at her sister. “I doubt, with her track record, she'd notice a thing."

Zorovin shook his head angrily. “We waste time,” he said, starting up the steps. Alex looked back once, then followed.

The women crouched behind a wall while they waited.

"I did something really stupid,” Rita-Sierra whispered.

"What was that?” Libby asked, both curious and because she knew it would be faster just to let her talk.

"I spent the last few days pretty constantly with Alex's father,” she said, her lips close to her sister's ear. “I-I told him he'd better take care of himself. And he said ‘Why is that, wizard woman?'” She imitated the essence of Zorovin's voice so perfectly that Libby sniggered. “And I said.... I said, ‘Because, you dummy, I think I love you.’”

"Do you?” Libby said, turning so she could see her sister's eyes.

"Yeah. I think so. He's not like anyone else, you know?"

Libby blinked. “It's just, well ... kind of sick, isn't it? Both of us ... father and son?"

Rita-Sierra smiled and patted her knee. “Some things don't bear thinking too deeply about, dear."

"What did he say?” Libby asked, feeling herself being drawn in past her doubts.

"Nothing.” She sighed.

Dashiel leaned against Rita-Sierra. “Well, the fact he didn't say anything to you at all afterward doesn't mean anything."

"Thanks,” Rita-Sierra said.

"What I meant,” Dashiel continued, “is that if it meant nothing, he would have said something. But it's important to him, so he has to think. Dragons aren't good with emotions, you know."

"Whatever,” she said, sighing again. “But..."

Dashiel raised a paw over her mouth. They heard steps, coming around the ridge.

A group of small creatures and a tree man walked by. They were carrying a chain that glittered silver in the night. Their steps faded, and Dashiel let them up.

"Ick,” Sierra muttered, wiping her mouth. “Doggy paw."

"Yeah,” Dashiel said, “but we have bigger problems. Wasn't that the way the love of your life just went?"

The sisters looked at each other.

"We better follow,” they said in unison.

They ran up the steps, keeping behind their quarry. The stairway split, one flight going into a room, the other going on up. The chain gang had entered the room, and the women would have to go past the door ... and be in view of the slobbering little monsters.

Alex and Zorovin were coming back down. Libby wagged her hands in front of her, miming
stop
frantically. Alex put his arm out, stopping his father, who was studying the walls.

Zorovin held up a finger then stepped sideways and slid to the doorway with his back against the wall so he could see into the room. Then, he seemed to be staring at the wall beside her, so Libby moved over. He looked her in the eyes. She started to think something toward him, and he placed a finger to his lips, then to his forehead. He pointed at the room, then to his ear.
They can hear you.

She nodded. He pointed to the wall beside her then stretched way up to touch the stone closest to the ceiling. He mouthed one, holding up a finger, then counted down five stones. He poked the fifth, giving her a significant look.

She counted down to the fifth stone and stared at it, and the ones around it. She shrugged. It was a little rounder, yes.

He held out a hand and moved his other hand over it, like he was twisting a dial on a safe. Rita pushed her aside, fitted her fingers into the slight dips in the rock and twisted it. A panel slid open.

Libby glanced over her shoulder—the men were gone. She looked up, and two small dragons were crawling slowly across, hugging the ceiling.

They dropped and flew into the dark tunnel. Rita and Dashiel followed. Libby adjusted the pack on her back, took a breath and went in.

The darkness was thick; it felt like cobwebs. She could feel it brushing her eyes as she strained to see, to make out some detail. The incline was steep and smooth. If she'd been wearing shoes with less grip, she'd be greeting the bottom by now. She reached out for balance and touched a damp, slimy wall.

Ahead, a tiny glowing ball formed. It outlined the again-human form of Zorovin. An uneasy thought was forming in her mind, and she wanted to ask Alex what he thought.

"Excuse the light,” Zorovin said. “I wanted to make sure you were all here. The dark plays tricks with my senses ... be careful."

They were plunged in utter darkness again, but not before she found Alex's hand.

Rita-Sierra shuddered. She had stayed out the glow so that her friends would not see the play of emotions across her face, the feelings that roiled in the glow of her eyes. She was confused, sickened.

Who am I? she wondered. Why am I acting this way?

—
You do what must be done,
a voice said to her, inside her head.
You have forgotten who Rita is. She is a strong woman who forges ahead to fulfill the needs of this dying world.

—
No, I haven't forgotten, she responded, and that doesn't sound like me at all.

She wished she were Sierra again. Sierra wasn't filled with this strange burning. Sierra didn't find her body doing things against her will. Sierra's mind wasn't full of plots and intrigues. The base of her back itched terribly, and she reached around to scratch it. She'd been making a habit of this, and her fingernails came away wet. She let the others go ahead a little so she could call a tiny speck of light. Under her fingernails, instead of bright-red coppery blood, was a noxious deep-plum goo that glowed ever so slightly. It smelled of foulness much, much worse than anything from her time in the grave.

—
Idiot,
the voice said, and the part that was Sierra curled up and cried.

Her dip into the magic had opened her up, and she was possessed. Something—Morganna Le Fay's will or something else—had coiled around her soul, forced itself into the weak connections between Rita-Sierra and her body. It now it controlled her. It prodded her forward, and she strode down the hall to catch up.

—
Zorovin?
Sierra called from inside herself.
Help me.

Zorovin had waited for her, illuminated slightly by her light. He turned silver eyes toward her. Rita smiled happily at him, made a little wave. He turned away, as if the sight hurt his eyes. She reached up and pinched the firefly spark of illumination out.

Libby touched Alex's hand.

—
Are our thoughts private?
she asked him.

—
As long as we touch.
He shifted his hand so that hers, smaller and more fragile, slipped inside. His touch is so warm and strong, she thought, clinging to him.
If we try to project over a distance, sometimes it can be overheard.