The Tree of Water (17 page)

Char stopped. He hung in the drift, his back to the others.

Ven waited. A wave of hostile thrum from his friend washed over him, wordless.

Finally Char turned around.

“That's low,” he said. His thrum felt steely against Ven's skin. “That's pretty low, Ven.”

“Captain Snodgrass ordered you to keep an eye on me at all times,” Ven said. He tried to keep his desperation out of his thrum, but it crept in anyway. “If you want to go, I can't stop you. But I never thought you would be one to disobey an order from the captain.”

“I've followed your sorry hindquarters over most o' the Island o' Serendair,” Char said. “I've put my neck on the line for you just about every bloody day.”

“I know. And I owe you my life. So when we get back to the upworld, if there's any place
you
want to go, I'll be by your side, all the way. But, like I said, you're not thinking clearly. The pressure of the sea is probably getting to you. You have to come with me. We have to stick together and see this through.”

The angry light in Char's eyes burned brighter.

“There ya go, tellin' me what I hafta do again,” he said. “You say you don't have a choice, but you've already made one. I guess you're choosin' Amariel and her world over me—your best friend—and
our
world. You can't live in two worlds at the same time, Ven, no matter how much you may want to. Go ahead, then—go farther into the Deep, go look for your sea dragons an' your Summer Festivals an' your long-dead legends about watery trees. Just remember what they keep tellin' you here—you're
out of place
. If that's what you want, so be it. I'm
done
.”

He turned away and began swimming back out of the kelp forest.

Ven started after him “Char—”

“Kiss the keel, Ven.”

Ven stopped in the drift. The expression was one sailors used. It was the suggestion to throw oneself into the sea under the bottom of the ship.

And was only said to someone considered an enemy.

“At least take your knapsack and your barb,” Coreon called. “You don't stand a chance without them.”

“He doesn't stand a chance with them, either,” Amariel muttered. “He's
chum
. Shark bait.”

Ven felt the corners of his eyes sting in the salt, and his throat tightened.

“Char—” he called as his friend swam away into a sunshadow that crossed the pathway.

His thoughts were choked off by the strikes of movement in the water where he was watching.

Three streaks of light shot out of the floating kelp thickets on each side of the pathway, clear and formless. They were accompanied by the thrum of high-pitched, tittering laughter.

The vibration scratched the inside of his brain, terrifying him.

As the sun shifted he saw three filmy figures, female and colorless, circle in the drift around his best friend.

He felt the thrum behind him from Coreon and Amariel almost as if they had spoken the word at the same time out loud.

Vila!

In a hideous swirl of motion, the fairy spirits seized Char and dragged him off toward the surface, spinning and dancing frightfully. They flipped him upside down and righted him again, laughing as he struggled helplessly in their grasp. As they did, Ven saw a tiny glowing ball of intense blue light fall from Char's pocket and slowly float down toward the bright algae on the ocean floor below.

“Oh no,” he whispered, his lips moving silently. “Oh
no
.”

It was Char's breathing stone of elemental air.

 

19

Spicegar

“They're going to drown him!” Ven shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Coreon said uneasily. “They could be taking him back to the clouds.”

“Doubtful,” said the merrow. “The Vila are pretty strong, and Chum's pretty skinny, but he'd be too much of a load to haul all the way up to the sky.”

“He can't breathe.” Ven swam over to the stone of air and picked it up from the patch of algae where it had dropped. It seemed fragile, little more than a bubble in the sea. He looked up to see the swirling creatures passing Char from one to another, spinning him in a freakish dance. His friend's face was turning purple, and his eyes were open wide in fear. “Amariel, what do we do?”

“If we can get them to turn him loose, I can take the stone to him faster than you can,” the merrow replied. “But my tail would go right through them. I can't slap him free from their grasp.”

Ven looked about desperately.

There have been many moments since my birthday, when I first left on the Inspection of the
Angelia
and never returned, that I have been really scared.

But I have never been as scared as this.

If you put all those other moments together, they still did not scare me as much as this.

When Char swam away from us, heading east, I was just beginning to wrap my head around the possibility that he might die if he didn't change his mind and come back.

But I didn't really believe it.

Then, without warning, he was fighting for air in the grip of the Vila.

Dying before my eyes.

And I could do nothing about it.

Coreon swung his barbed crossbow from over his back to his hands.

“Spicegar?” he said. “Are you anywhere around here?”

For a moment there was silence. Then Ven felt a thrum against his temples that was like the rustling of leaves.

A soft, low voice answered. As it spoke, it was as if its vibration did not disturb the drift around it at all.

Yes. Nearby.

“Who is Spicegar?” Ven asked.

“The sea dragon,” Coreon replied. His thrum sounded as if he thought the answer was obvious. He redirected his thrum to the kelp forest. “Can you do something to distract the Vila?”

Ven thought he felt the forest sigh.

Oh, I suppose so. You know how much I detest doing that.

Ven's head all but exploded with excitement at the sea-dragon's thrum.

“I know, but we would appreciate it.” Coreon gestured with his head to Amariel. “Come on—bring the stone.”

The merrow reached out her webbed hand, and Ven put the air stone into it, not understanding what they were doing. She followed Coreon up to where the swirling dance of the Vila was spinning closer and closer to the surface of the sea.

Suddenly, the drift was alive with a loud hum, a clicking sound that instantly reminded Ven of something familiar he couldn't quite place. It was a thrum so deep and widespread that it made his breathing slow down.

Then he recognized it.

It was like the purring of a giant cat.

The sound filled the forest so completely that the kelp leaves moved in time with it. The gentle, drowsy thrum became almost hypnotic.

Above his head, the swirling circle of Vila must have felt it, too. The dance slowed, and then stopped. The filmy women hovered in the drift, Char hanging between them, struggling for breath.

“Awwwwww,” the first one said. “Listen.”

“Awwwwwwwwww!” the other two echoed.

“For goodness' sake,” Ven murmured.

With a powerful kick, Coreon was beside them a moment later. He pointed his barbed crossbow at Char's heart.

“Let him go or I'll shoot him,” he said to the Vila.

Ven inhaled sharply. “Er, Coreon—I'm not sure that's such a good idea—”

The sea-Lirin boy held the crossbow up to his eye and sighted it.

“You're right,” he said to Ven, loudly enough for the Vila to hear him. “The blood will ruin the rainwater. And it will bring the great whites. I hear their bite is so ferocious they can even tear through spirit folk like nymphs, and water sprites—and even Vila.”

The three fairy spirits looked at one another. Then, dreamily, they dropped Char's arms and flitted smoothly away, leaving him hanging, like wilted kelp, in the drift.

“Quick!” Ven urged Amariel. “Get him the air stone!”

The merrow gave two quick sweeps of her tail. She was at Char's side in an instant. She pressed her hand with the air stone against his chest.

“He's not breathing, Ven.”

Coreon slid his barbed crossbow over his back again. He took hold of Char's limp arm and pulled it around his shoulder.

“You take the other side,” he said to Amariel, “but don't drop the stone. I've never seen one like it. I was wondering how humans were breathing underwater.”

“They could have had
gills
,” Amariel said pointedly, “but you can't tell them
anything
.” She and Coreon descended to the floor of the Underwater Forest, where Ven was waiting anxiously.

“C'mon, Char,
breathe
,” he said, pressing his hand against Amariel's. “You've got the air back. Let it into your lungs.”

Char did not respond.

“No,” Ven whispered, pushing harder. “C'mon, Char, don't give up. Breathe.
Breathe.
Please.”

Coreon watched thoughtfully for a moment, then looked around at the glowing forest.

“Spicegar?”

The purring stopped.

The forest seemed to sigh again.

Suddenly, a harsh barking sound filled the sleepy kelp bed, sharp and quick and so loud that Ven's ears popped.

Amariel and Coreon looked stunned.

A school of yellow and white fish that had been passing through, taking their time, leapt and scattered, leaving the drift empty where they had been a moment before.

And Char gasped.

Then coughed.

Then choked.

Then took a few ragged breaths.

Ven patted his friend's back in relief.

“You're back! Welcome back.”

Woozily Char put his palm to his eye.

“What—how—”

“Don't try to talk,” Ven said. “Just rest and take some easy breaths.” He looked above at the waving fronds of kelp, which seemed to have grown a few Knuckles taller in the short time they had been in the forest. The gentle music had returned, and the kelp trees were swaying peacefully in the drift once more. “Er, Coreon—where's your, er, friend?”

The Lirin-mer boy looked around. He shrugged.

“Spicegar?” he called again. “Would it be acceptable for these land-livers and this merrow to meet you?” His thrum sounded a little bored, but perhaps it was just the cracking of his voice.

“Uh—just the land-livers,” said Amariel quickly. “No offense—I'm supposed to steer clear of sea dragons. My mother said so.”

No offense taken
.
I understand completely. My mother told me to steer clear of merrows
.

“Where are you?” Ven asked.

A little deeper in, past the stump, then to the north beyond the purple ferns.

“Follow me,” Coreon said. “I know just where he means.”

Amariel clutched at Ven's sleeve.

“Don't go,” she whispered. “Please. It's been a rough morning. I don't want it to get worse by having one or more of you get eaten.”

“Yeah, I hate it when that happens,” mumbled Char.

Coreon smiled for the first time since they had met him. It made his face look totally different.

“Are you coming?” he asked. “Not a good idea to keep a sea dragon waiting.”

“Right. Let's go,” said Ven. He glanced at Amariel. “Please come with us,” he urged. “If we learned anything from all this it's that we should stay together and help each other.”

The merrow shook her head violently.

“I don't want to leave you here,” Ven continued. “How can we get to the Summer Festival if you won't pass through the forest with us? We still have to cross the Sea Desert after this. Please come along.”

The merrow crossed her arms and turned away.

Coreon rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come
on,
Amariel. Spicegar, can you promise not to eat the merrow? Just this once?”

Silence filled the peaceful glen. Then the thrum voice spoke, and it sounded confused.

I don't understand.

“She's afraid you're going to eat her.”

Ah. Well, tell her I'm a vegetarian.

The sea-Lirin boy turned to the merrow, who was glowering stubbornly. “Hear that?”

“Yeah, I heard it,” she said. “If you believe that, you go on ahead. Maybe he thinks a sea cucumber is a vegetable.”

“Isn't it?” Ven asked. Coreon shook his head.

Another deep sigh rumbled through the beautiful forest.

Madam, you are trying my patience. You're also disturbing my nap. Now, I give you my word that I shall not harm you. Either come visit, or pass on your way. But get on with it
.

“Yeah, as I said before, it's not a good idea to keep a sea dragon waiting,” said Coreon. “Let's go.”

Ven took hold of Char's arm. “Can you help me carry him for a while, Amariel? I think his little Vila dance took a lot out of him.”

“Hmmph,” said the merrow. She glanced around, then took hold of the other side grudgingly. “All right, Ven, you win. But if I get roasted and eaten I am
never
going to forgive you, remember that.”

“I will,” Ven promised with a grin. He hoisted Char's arm around his shoulder and the merrow did so with the other. Then they followed Coreon down the forest pathway to the west, where the rising sun was casting dusty streams of light through the surface where it pooled on the top leaves of the kelp forest canopy.

They traveled in silence for a while. The deeper in they swam, the quieter the forest became. Occasionally a small school of colorful fish, larger than those they had seen on the reef, glided by, or a starfish crawled past, and once an enormous sunfish larger than the four of them put together sailed above, nibbling at the kelp. Otherwise the forest seemed almost empty.