Sunborn Rising (22 page)

Lootrinea swam up to the Roedtaw’s mouth, which had closed to a slit. She pushed her lips against him and kissed the golden krill in. There was a sucking force from the Roedtaw that tugged at her whiskers, and just like that, the krill was gone.

Each of the bups did the same.

A quaking grumble gorged up from the Roedtaw and shook the ocean. Barra’s whole body seemed to vibrate. The grumble grew in pitch and volume, and then drew out long and low. The sound fluctuated, and then ended the way it started, like the end of a sonorous exhale. Barra was overcome by the sound, so broad and close, so gentle and safe. It cradled her very core. Tears formed, but she choked them back. As ancient as the Roedtaw was, she felt a connection to him and she was emboldened by it.

Looking over the bups, Lootrinea smiled knowingly at Barra. The young Listlespur met her gaze, confident and full of gratitude. Barra nodded, and as she did, Lootrinea witnessed a single tear form and then dissolve into Red as a fiery, brilliant ring.

Tory shook in happy disbelief. The Roedtaw was more than anything he’d ever dreamed.

Lootrinea waved to the Roedtaw, indicating they were ready. The Roedtaw’s skin was an armor of ridged plates lying flush with his body. Veins of light blue minerals added cracks to the rough plates, and barnacles and seaweed added texture. The Roedtaw levered open a plate and the bups swam in behind it.

There was a shallow depression underneath the plate big enough to hold them all. When they were situated, bubbles began rising from Roedtaw’s pores. The bubbles were held by a clear skin drawn across the opening like a nictitating membrane—Barra hadn’t even noticed it happen. The bubbles pushed most of the water out of the space beneath the plate, creating a cavity of breathable air. The Nebules slid from the bups.

Emitting a few harmonious tones, Lootrinea spoke watery words of farewell and good luck before she floated away. The bups waved. The Aetherial had told them all she wouldn’t be joining them, but nevertheless, Barra was uncomfortable watching her go.

“I don’t understand why she couldn’t come with us,” Plicks said.

Tory sighed, and said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“’There’s more to do than we can know.’ That’s what she said, right?” asked Barra.

“Yeah, but what does
that
mean?” Plicks asked as Blue flitted around him.

The Roedtaw bellowed, silencing the bups. The sound was powerful enough to reach every Abyssal in the sea, but languorous, uncaring whether he was heard or not. The Roedtaw spun up the whirlpool at his center, and accelerated away from the Drift.

There were bony hooks in the pocket flat against the Roedtaw’s skin, and Barra reached for the closest to steady herself. Plicks did the same. They went faster and Barra could feel the Roedtaw’s pulse as he whirled the water within his hollow. Inconceivable volumes of water passed through him continuously, and behind him, the tight twist stretched longer and longer. He roared yet again, hinting that the speed would increase even more, and Tory grabbed a hook.

They jetted toward the sun, carving a slender vacuum of space in the water that collapsed and exploded behind them. The Drift soon diminished to a speck and joined the rest of the world’s details in a plane of far-off darkness, one object indistinguishable from the next. The water warmed as they travelled, and they passed other Drift-like corals, balled forests of vegetation, and immense flat ribbons of debris. The farther they went, the fewer they saw, and those that passed close, flew by in a blur.

Fascinated, the bups chatted about the Roedtaw. When they’d exhausted themselves, Barra remembered that she hadn’t apologized to Plicks. The words poured out of her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Plicks’ return was immediate and genuine, “I’m sorry too.”

Tory was glad to hear it, but he had to ask, “I just don’t understand what set you off like that. It’s not like you. Are you all right?”

Barra had to be careful not to look at her arm. “I’m fine. I just need some sleep.” She smiled, but the feverish heat was returning. “Now seems as good a time as any.”

Tory didn’t believe she was okay, but he didn’t know what more he could say either. Barra was the most stubborn Listlespur that he knew.

There were bup-sized depressions in the pocket, and Barra slid down into one of them. Red snuggled in close, and intuitively covered Barra’s cut. The Nebule eased the pain, but Barra wished she had more of Lootrinea’s yellow stones. Those tucked in her cheeks had dissolved to almost nothing. The hypnotic hum of the Roedtaw was at least a comforting distraction. Barra focused on the sound and it lulled her to sleep.

Barra dreamed of exploring with her father. He guided her from the darkness into the light, and back into the darkness again. Pieces of her body were cut and torn from her by an eyeless monster. The pieces fell into the monster’s hands, and turned to ashes that he scattered over a crack in the Root. Barra bled into the sea, green and red, a poisonous cloud blocking out the Sun. There was distant laughter and she awoke.

Sweating, Barra sat up. Her fever was becoming more intense, but also, the ocean temperature had risen. The plates covering the Roedtaw were fanned open like a pinecone ready to seed, and they’d blackened too, so that the sun’s light was partially blocked. Barra rolled over to see her friends.

Plicks was busy trying to explain to Blue that his scruffs were useful, but the Nebule wasn’t getting it. Char bobbed and spun around Tory, who’d finally found the new lines of orange in his panoply. Tory’s new color matched Char’s cracked lines. Barra blinked away some feverish tears, but the lines were still there.

The Roedtaw bellowed out several stuttered notes.

Barra could feel them decelerating. The bups and the Nebules were squished into the front of the pocket from the force. When the pressure abated, she couldn’t tell for sure if they were still moving or not, but the Roedtaw sounded out a boom that was a definitive end.

Red danced around, a surge of joy in her motion. The Nebule tugged in adoration at Barra. “
Come see!
” her body language seemed to beg. Giving in, Barra allowed herself to be dragged up to the tense, curved membrane that was the threshold between the air and the ocean. Pushing through the membrane, Red entered the water beyond with one tentacle still tethered to Barra.

Through the membrane, Barra watched Red burst into elaborate displays of light. The Nebule sparkled with tiny explosions. Waves of scarlet, rose, and vermillion blossomed through her skin.

Red was home.

24. The Boil

Barra wondered what was out there. She followed Red’s tentacle from where it was coiled around her arm to where it crossed the meniscus into the ocean. The wicked cut in her arm burned and wept. Normally, Barra would have already been out in the ocean with Red, but she hesitated. She saw Plicks and Tory waiting for her to act and gathered her spirit against her doubt and fear.

Red coiled and pulled, as though she couldn’t leave Barra behind. For a moment, Barra saw her father in her weary mind’s eye. He beckoned to her, his image bending through the meniscus and her imagination. Another impatient tug from Red broke the spell. The dreamy visage dissolved, and she remembered where she was. She flashed her friends her best
I-got-this
smile, held her breath, and jumped out.

The membrane stretched and resealed behind her, so that she emerged from the pocket with barely a bubble of air escaping with her. The ocean was hot, like crawling into a bowl of fireseeded broth. There was turbulence too as fast-rising bubbles collided with Barra. Flattening her tentacles into a shield, Red deflected the torrents and filtered the sun as she enveloped Barra again.

The torrents hit Red and slid sideways around her before snaking up again in bent ribbons. Reeling out all around the two were the thinner tentacles, rippling. They looked like they were falling fast, but really, they were swimming hard to keep from being pushed up and away from the Boil. Red kept them close to the Roedtaw. Barra thought Red’s tentacles, transporting wrinkles of light away from them, were like tongues of fire made solid.

There was so much more to Cerulean than the Umberwood, than the whole of the Great Forest. Barra pushed her face deep into Red, and took a long inhale. The Root wasn’t even visible from where they were. Beneath them, the Boil shifted and shimmered, the sun’s light flickering madly as it bounced through the giant swathes of bubbles.

Suddenly, Barra realized they weren’t alone. Countless scores of Nebules were gathered into roving clouds not far from her. Barra felt exactly how they looked: lost. The oceanic world was amazing, beyond anything she’d ever seen, and still she felt like she was missing something important. She wished her mother could see it. She wished her father was there.

Red folded one rippling tentacle, curled it up, and gently pressed it into Barra’s side. Barra closed her eyes and allowed the warmth to soothe her. Her wound flared, and she decided she couldn’t stay out longer. She heaved an overlong sigh into Red and their silhouette swelled. Determined more than ever to get home, Barra extended her tail back to the Roedtaw, and pulled. Red released her, and Barra returned to the pocket.

Tory and Plicks were beside themselves with wonder. They waited for details as Barra dripped, but she divulged nothing. Nervous about the answer but needing to know, Plicks finally asked, “Well? What’s out there?”

“You have to see for yourselves,” Barra said, and Tory was glad to see the intensity in her eyes. She looked alive again. Red poured back into the room, light shedding from her as she passed through the membrane. She was like liquid fire streaming into a pool at Barra’s feet. In moments, she was thickening and molding into her be-tentacled self again, bell-shaped body and all. A renewed Red curled in and out of Barra’s legs, happy and playful.

Eager, Char and Blue danced around for the boys’ attention. They pushed through the meniscus, but Plicks and Tory hesitated. “Really, go. You have to see it,” Barra said. “It’s just… I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

Narrowing his eyes skeptically, Plicks said, “There’s nothing—”

“Hey, hey, let’s go!” Tory interrupted. “Before they leave us behind!” The Rugosic gathered up Plicks and shoved him into the sea. Certain that Plicks was safe with Blue, Tory turned to Barra. “I don’t know everything you’re feeling, but I know that look. It’s like every time I’m happy or excited about some random thing, that’s when I miss her most. It makes me,” he swallowed hard, “really sad that I can’t share anything with her.”

One of Char’s orb-tipped fingers poked Tory. Smiling, Tory gathered his thoughts, and said, “It feels really lonely sometimes, but—”

“That’s not what this is about,” Barra responded weakly. Her skin pricked again, and she wanted to be alone to inspect her arm. Frustrated, she told him, “Just get out, already! You need to see the sun!”

Tory was sure Barra was sad about her father, but when he opened his mouth to say more, he had no words. He held Char’s outstretched arm, and jumped out.

A feverish wave hit Barra, and she crouched low to keep her stomach from flip-flopping. Her arm was much worse. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to hide it or her illness from anyone, much less her best friends. The yellow stones were gone, and Red’s help was limited. Barra only hoped she could stave off the infection until they got back to the Umberwood.

The boys re-entered the room, speechless. Plicks fell onto his rump and tried unsuccessfully to combine sounds into words.

Tory grinned. “Incredible.”

Plicks’s eyes were like juicy berries. “Amazing!”

“The sun,” Tory said.

“The ocean,” Plicks said in an awed whisper.

“Seemed like it went on forever, didn’t it? Did you see all those Nebules?” Tory asked.

Plicks’ head was nodding like his neck was a spring. He turned to Barra, “Did you see all that?! Your father was right! Imagine all that light in the Loft!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was just thinking that,” Barra said. There was pressure building in her ears, and her own voice sounded muffled.

“What’s the matter?” Tory asked, seeing her falter.

Barra pretended not to hear the question, and changed the focus of the conversation. “What do we do now?”

Plicks perked up. He didn’t seem surprised that Barra forgot what Lootrinea told them about the Roedtaw and communicating with him through the bony hooks. With confidence, he reached for the closest and clung to it, white-knuckled. He pulled it hard. Once, twice, three times. He rubbed the patch of skin beneath the hook and then pulled one more time with his whole body.

The Roedtaw began winding up. Low, booming tones shook the bups, and Plicks urged the others, “Hold on!”

The Nebules and bups shrank into their shallow depressions, and held tight to their hooks. The Roedtaw made a gradual turn, end-over-end, forcing them all down, heavily. They couldn’t have sat up even if they’d wanted to.

The Roedtaw bellowed. And for the first time in buckles, the bups ascended.