The PriZin of Zin (11 page)

Chapter 14: Ian

I·an
[ee-
uh
n, ee-ahn, ahy-
uh
n]
noun

a male given-
name
, Scottish form of John; meaning: God is gracious.

Ian gasped at the giant head leaning down at him. The long, craning neck hovered high in the air, looking a lot like the serpent that had snatched Morgan from the shore just a short time ago. He screamed and backed up on the tiny island, realizing it was no island at all. Turning, he dashed down the creature’s back heading for the water and flung himself in.

Ian swam as hard as he could. With no sense of direction or time, he knew he just had to get out of there, and fast. A few feet into the water, the serpent’s giant tail skimmed the surface and dragged him back up onto its back.

“Stop,” it called to him, but Ian launched back into the water again, swimming harder and faster.

Again the tail swung across the top of the water and hurled Ian back onto itself. “You can’t—” the creature tried to speak, but again Ian leapt into the warm water.

Over and over again they followed this routine, with Ian growing more angry with each new try at freedom. Harder and harder he stomped back into the water, fear gone and rage taking its place, only to be flung back onto the serpent’s back one more time.

“Let me explain,” the serpent tried again, but Ian’s closed mind would have no part in it.

“Let me go!” Ian swung his boot back and kicked the thing as hard as he could.

“Fine!” it sputtered, then submerged, leaving him floating in the water once again.

Ian gasped and choked from the sudden splash of water against his face. When he relaxed, he looked around all directions, spying nothing but water as far as his eye could see. Somewhat bewildered, he struck out toward nothing.

When the giant head popped up in front of him, he gasped, again taking in a mouthful of water. Choking, he stopped swimming to catch his breath. Without a word, he turned to swim another direction.

“Don’t you want some help?”

“I don’t need your help,” Ian snapped. “You, or anybody – anything – else.”

“Oh, come on,” the thing prompted. “Let’s be friends. My name is Nestor.”

Ian kept swimming.

“And you might be…?” it trailed off.

“None of your business.”

“You know, for a human, you’re pretty angry.”

Ian spun around in the water to face Nestor and tread water. “You dumped me in the water.”

“You kicked me.”

“You made me mad.”

“You made me mad first,” Nestor quipped. “And now that we’re through with all this nonsense, can’t we just be friends?”

“I don’t need any friends.”

“What about the ones you are trying to find?”

Ian slowed again, still floating, with Nestor following closely behind.

“Do you know where they’ve gone?”

Ian was silent.

“Because, I do.” Nestor stopped.

Ian spun to face it again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian screamed back through the rippling surf.

“You never asked.”

The answer seemed so simple, yet it enraged Ian again. He swam back toward the creature with hatred shooting from his eyes.

Nestor bobbed and weaved his long neck both in and out of the water, dodging Ian’s attempted blows. The more Ian missed, the angrier he became. Turning to swim away, Nestor’s great tail swung in front of him and dragged Ian up onto his back, again protruding from the water like a tiny island. Ian screamed and flung himself back into the water. Again and again they followed this same routine. Ian finally collapsed near the waterline of Nestor’s back, exhausted. He lay still, barely breathing, not sure what to do next.

Nestor’s giant head hovered over him just like it did when this whole nightmare began. He snorted, but Ian swore it was more of a snicker. The head dipped down to his prone body and sniffed. Ian reached out a balled fist and slugged the snout as hard as he could.

“Ouch!” It reared back, ready to strike, then settled down. “Ok, I guess we’re even. Now can we be friends?”

“Why do you want to be friends with me?”

“Because we can help each other.”

“Help each other? How?” Ian asked.

“I can help you find your friends.”

“Yeah,” Ian ventured. “What do I have to do?”

“Nothing,” Nestor said with a grin. “Just let me tag along.”

It’s a trick
, Ian’s insides churned a warning.
It’s too simple
. He eyed the serpent, an uneasiness rising in the back of his throat.

“What do I get out of it?” he demanded.

Nestor’s grin disappeared and his head descended down to Ian’s level. Squinting eyes narrowed down until tiny slits peered at him. He was so close his exhaled breath blew Ian’s wet hair back. “You get to find your friends, and you don’t drown.” Raising back up, Nestor glared down at his new companion.

“Deal,” Ian said, then curled up to go to sleep. “I need a nap.”

Chapter 15: Sail

Sail
[
seyl
] verb/to move along or travel over water

Ian stretched and yawned on his make-shift floating shore. The warm ocean breeze felt good against his cool skin, baking in the late sun’s warmth. The wind came in spurts, like small bursts of the earth’s energy. He stirred, and slowly opened one eye.

In front of him was a giant blue sphere with a big jet black globe in the middle. The warm breeze washed over him again. The sphere blinked. Ian bolted up straight, nose-to-nose with Nestor, curled up into a tight, floating ball.

“What are you doing?”

“Just catching a few zzz’s.” Nestor stretched his giant neck skyward and yawned, unrolling his tail into the water.

“How could you be sleeping? You were supposed to be taking me to land.”

“I never said I would take you to land.” Nestor laid his head back down on his back, and curled back into a ball. “I said I would take you to your friends.”

“Yes, but my-friends-are-on-the-land,” Ian snapped.

“I know where they are. Don’t worry. We will be there soon.”

Ian stood on the back of the enormous sea creature. He climbed to the top of the hump protruding from the water. Looking around, he saw nothing but sea.

“We’re not even close to land.”

“That’s not true,” Nestor smiled. “What you call Scotland is right up there.” A fin stuck skyward.

“No, California is up there,” Ian snapped. “That’s where I came from. Scotland would be down there.”

“Indeed,” Nestor said, “but the world has turned since you’ve been here. California is now down there, and Scotland above. Likewise, your friends are not back there, but ahead.”

Ian looked around and tried to make some sense of what was happening. He couldn’t tell one way from another. “Well, we can’t just sit here.”

“We’re not sitting, we’re swimming.”

The softer, female sounding voice startled him. Ian looked beside Nestor in the water to see an identical creature, only smaller in size.

“May I introduce you to my cousin? You may know her as Nessie. Your kind has dubbed her that.”

“Nessie? As in, the Loch Ness Monster?”

“I am not a monster! Why is it that anything that is different from a human is dubbed a monster?”

“Ummm. I dunno.”

“Well, I do not like that name. Nessie is okay, but not the monster-thing. Deal?”

“Um, sure. Deal.” Ian sat down. “How do you get down here? I mean up there? Where are you guys from, anyway?”

“We go where we are needed,” Nestor said. “Mostly we reside down here, but travel above when it is necessary.”

“Why Scotland? Why not anywhere else?”

“What you call Scotland has the easiest passage to the world above. It has quick access to the oceans for worldwide travel.”

“Oh.” Ian smiled. “Kinda like a freeway.”

Nessie laughed. “Kind of.”

“Do you even know what a freeway is?”

Both creatures remained silent, although Ian swore he saw them smile at each other. “So what are you two anyway? What is your species called?”

“We have been named the Plesiosaur.”

“Are you dinosaurs?”

“If you please. We have been around since the dawn of mankind.”

“So you were part of the Big Bang then?”

“Excuse me,” Nessie snapped, “but I have never squirmed around in a mud puddle. I have been beautifully and wonderfully made by the Maker. Just look at my wings.”

“Um, those are fins.”

“Call them what you will. With them, I can soar.”

She spun around, dancing in the water like the dolphins at the water park near Ian’s home. Fins stretched outward and long neck skyward, she twirled in the water like a ballerina. Nestor followed suit, spinning Ian around.

He grabbed on to Nestor’s back for the ride. “Okay, okay. Sorry. That’s what we learned in school.”

“Yes, well. They used to teach that evil spirits could be sucked out of you by leeches, too.”

“They can’t?”

“Very funny,” Nestor said.

Ian climbed up Nestor’s neck so he could see where they were. “Which way are we going?” he asked.

“The right way.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“You would prefer the wrong way?”

“I just want to get to my friends.”

“I understand,” Nestor said, “but you must know that the road will be long and fraught with danger.”

“Yeah, the green gremlin said that, too.”

“Ahhh, so you’ve met Alistair then. Good.”

“Yeah, we met him. He gave me this.” Ian pulled the small flask of clear liquid from his pocket. “Never told me what I need to do with it though.”

“Save it,” Nessie said. “You will need it later,”

“What is it? Is it magic?”

“No. There is no magic here. Only Him.”

“Who?”

“Him, the Maker.” She slowed her speed so she could see Ian. “That is a gift.”

“What is it?” He shook the flask. Nothing happened.

“Careful,” she cautioned. “It’s water.”

“Water? Since when do I have to be careful with water? Maybe I’ll just drink it and be done with it.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Why,” Ian asked. “Will I die? Is it poison? What will happen if I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You two aren’t making any sense. I have to be careful with it, but I can’t drink it; it’s not poison; and nothing will happen if I open it; but it’s mine it and I have to take care of it. Is there anything else?”

Nestor stopped swimming and curled his head back around onto his back again. “It’s special water. Not magic as you said, but touched.”

“Touched? By who?”

“By the Maker. When used the right way, it can wash away all that holds us back in life.”

“There’s nothing holding me down.”

“Not down, Ian. Back. Before. Things like fear, hurt, rejection, —“

“I don’t have any of those,” he cut in.

“—anger.”

“Who you calling angry?” he barked.

“No one,” Nestor smiled. “It was just an example.”

“So how does this stuff work anyway?” He shook the bottle again. He peered at it with a skeptical eye.

“First of all, you must believe.”

“Ok. What else?”

“When the time is right, you will know. Magic comes from within and will always fail you. Miracles come from above, and will never let you down. Always thank the One who gave it to you. He alone is in control.”

“Hmmm.” Ian nodded. He thought about Alistair. Ian had no idea how he would be able to thank the little green thing for it, so far away. He didn’t even know where he was.

“Tuck the flask away someplace very safe,” Nestor instructed, “and lay low. We must be very quiet. We are heading into some very dangerous waters.”

The smell of seaweed was pungent. The rope Ian had braided to secure the flask around his neck was strong. The strands were still moist against his hot skin. He lay flat on his stomach, on Nestor’s barely protruding back. Both Nessie and Nestor were low in the water, only their nostrils and the tops of their heads floated above the waterline. The three slinked along the water’s surface for some time.

Ian loved adventure. He loved the sea as well; the sand, the salt, the smell. He thrived in this environment. Well, usually he did. Right now he was bored to tears. There was no adventure. There was no action, and there certainly didn’t seem to be any danger. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any reason for the stealthy incognito approach at all. Yet every time he made a sound or tried to sit up, Nestor had snapped him back down, quieting him. That giant green lug was really beginning to get on Ian’s last nerve.

At least they appeared to be getting closer to land. They had passed several rocks protruding up from the water. These were real rocks, too, not Plesiosaurs disguised as rocks. He had reached out his hand and touched them on their way past to make sure. Actually, ‘mountain’ would be a better term for them. These rocks were bigger than Ian’s house, and wider than a bus. Ian thought it odd that they were sticking so close to the rocks, though. Why not just swim back out in the open sea like they had done before? But each time he tried to ask, he’d been shushed quiet. Well, he’d had about enough of this game. Ian had decided that as soon as he could spot land, he would jump on to the next rock, then swim to shore once his pals had disappeared. He could find his friends and rescue Mr. Welch without any help. Ian felt fairly sure that if he was on dry land that Nestor’s tail couldn’t get to him, although he wouldn’t bet his freedom on it. Not yet, anyway. For now, he just laid low and watched for the perfect opportunity.

The group floated up against a particularly large rock, and settled into its shadow. The two serpents stretched their long necks out and peered around the corner in front of them. Drawing their necks back, they looked first at each other, then back to Ian. “Shhh,” Nestor whispered.

“Why?”

“Shhh,” Nessie urged. “Danger is near.”

Ian tried to crane his neck to see what was on the other side of the rock. He could not get it out far enough to see what was there, but he did catch sight of some land.
Perfect. Now my plan will work.
“What are we waiting for?” Ian whispered back.

“Darkness,” Nestor whispered, keeping both his voice and his head low.

“I want to see.” Ian inched forward, holding Nestor’s neck and slipping into the water by his head. Nestor’s tail swung around at the ready, by Ian’s side. “I just want to see. What is it?” He could hear chains rattling, and water slapping up against something hollow. There were many footsteps, raucous laughter, and scraping sounds that reminded Ian of when his mother would move furniture around the house. He inched forward a bit more, but was snatched back by Nestor’s tail.

“That’s far enough,” Nestor cautioned. “It’s not safe.”

“But what is it?”

Nessie gasped, and began swimming backwards. Nestor followed suit, inching his way back around the rock to the other side. The noises they heard were getting louder. Ian kept trying to inch forward while the serpents paddled back. Frustrated, bored, and ready to strike out on his own, Ian put action to his plan and leapt from Nestor’s back and up onto the giant rock. Trying to scurry up the wet surface, Ian lost his footing and slid down the opposite side, splashing down into a small bay.

“Man overboard!” someone screamed.

“Man overboard! Drop the anchor. Lower the sails. Set the buoys and bring the matey aboard!”