Freakling (4 page)

He soon realized that swimming out of the cave was going to be anything but easy. If he swam as hard as he could, he could manage to get a little way out of the cave, but the sea battered him against the rocks and eventually pushed him right back in, with several new bruises for his efforts. Taemon was exhausted. He swam to the ledge again to rest.

The rainbow-black walls didn’t look so wonderful now. As he sat on the ledge with the water up to his shoulders, the push and pull of the ocean was much stronger now in the deeper water. He had to wedge himself into places where the rock jutted out so that the current wouldn’t toss him about. He sat there, resting as much as he dared, willing himself to relax and think.

He was not strong enough to swim out of the cave. That much was certain. Would Yens go for help? Had anyone else seen him fall? He waited and rested.

Was it his imagination, or was the water rising faster? It was up to his chin. He tried to stand on the ledge, but the ceiling was too low on this side. If he stood, he had to bend over, which meant his head was not any higher. He’d have to find a way out before the water was over his head. He’d have to use psi. But how?

Was there any way out that didn’t involve swimming? Taemon looked around, but he could see nothing beyond the dark walls and rising water.

Skies! He was going to have to do the mind wandering again.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his whole body. He let his awareness follow the walls and roof of the cave. He could sense every nook and cranny — there was no other way out.

Time to change tactics. He tried to stop the rise of the water, which worked for a little while, but the effort quickly exhausted him. He tried pushing the ocean water back out of the cave, manipulating rocks to block the opening — anything he could think of to buy more time. But psi had its limitations. Everything Taemon tried to move was just too heavy. He had to find something smaller to manipulate. And he had to do it fast.

Now he had to tilt his head backward to breathe. Salty water sloshed around his nose and mouth.

He fought fear. Fear would only diminish his psi.
Think. Relax.
All right, so the water would soon be over his head. Could he use psi to breathe water instead of air? It seemed the only option.

Taemon had never attempted using psi on himself. He’d heard plenty of stories of people who had done such things, and the results were always harmful, often fatal. Healers knew how to do certain things for the body, but even trained professionals would never attempt psi healing on themselves. It was much too risky. Knowledge of the human body was restricted to healers and midwives, so Taemon knew little of how breathing worked or even why it was necessary.

But he had to try something. It had come down to a choice of risky psi or certain death.

So Taemon let his mind wander again, only this time, he sent his awareness inside himself. Taking a big gulp of air, he focused on his breath and followed where it went. He sensed a breathing tube that ran down his neck and split into two spongy places inside his chest. The sponges rose and fell as Taemon breathed. He continued his exploration. The air passageway branched off into narrower and narrower tubes, each of which dead-ended in a tiny air sac.

Something was happening here. He didn’t know the words to describe it, but he could tell that part of the air was moving into the sac. His body seemed to need only a certain part of the air, not all of it. But which part?

Taking another breath, Taemon sent his awareness in closer to explore exactly what was happening. When he thought he understood, he exhaled. The air backtracked all the way out of his chest and bubbled through his nose.

Now he knew he needed a certain kind of air particle. He only had a few minutes before normal breathing would become impossible. Could he get these little particles from water, or were they only found in air?

He reached out with his mind to look for this certain little particle his body needed for breathing. There were so many strange little things in the water, and they all looked different. Where were the little bits he needed to breathe?

Wait. Yes! Those breathing bits were there, but tangled up with a bunch of others. It was just like the colored building rods he used to play with when he was first learning psi. Those little breathing particles would have to be separated from the water, then recombined into something his body could use for air.

Carefully, Taemon drew a little water into his mouth. He sent his mind scurrying to tag all the tiny parts he needed. The next part was tricky. Taemon connected with all those little bits at the same time. He pictured a specific image in his mind in which all the tagged bits combined into breathable air and moved down to his air sacs while everything else moved out of his mouth.

With a controlled burst of psi, Taemon sent the order.
Be it so!

And it worked. Bubbles came out of his mouth and the right bits of air went down toward his chest. The first few breaths tickled and caught in his throat, like a hiccup gone wrong. Each breath felt a little smoother.

He could do it. He had to concentrate harder than ever before. He had to relax more than ever before. He had to control his psi more than ever before. But he could do it.

Taemon lay on the ledge, completely submerged now. Good bits in, bad bits out. That alone took all his attention. He fell into a kind of trance as he focused so closely on breathing.
Good bits in, bad bits out. Good bits in, bad bits out.

Time passed, maybe minutes, maybe hours — Taemon had no idea.

When his awareness returned, someone was lifting him out of the water. This person was saying something, wanting Taemon to respond. He was too weak to answer. He was utterly exhausted — almost entirely drained of energy.

He was out of the water.

He was alive.

“How long was he in the cave?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Nearly an hour,” Da said.

“Underwater all that time?”

Taemon opened his eyes just enough to see where he was and who was talking. He was home, in his room. And the woman wore the medallion of a healer. He closed his eyes again and pretended to sleep.

“We’re not sure,” Da said. “When the divers finally found him, he was lying underwater.”

“Does it matter?” Mam said. “Obviously he didn’t drown. There must have been air pockets or some such thing.” Her voice sounded strained and tense. Mam had always been overprotective of him and Yens. Da said it was on account of her younger sister dying when Mam was only six. The sea cave incident must have thrown her to new levels of panic.

“Still, I’d try to downplay that part of the incident,” said the healer.

“He hasn’t told us anything about what happened,” Da said. “We felt it best not to push him.”

“How much does he sleep?” the healer asked.

“He wakes up every few hours with a huge appetite,” Mam said. “He eats, then sleeps again.”

“Appetite. That’s good,” the healer said. “But we’ll need to watch for signs of possible brain damage.”

“He’s fine,” Mam said sharply. “He just needs time to recuperate.”

“That’s possible, too. My point is, keep a close eye on him. If you notice anything unusual, any loss of psi, let me know. I’ll check back with you before Sabbath.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mam said. “His psi is perfectly fine.”

“I’ll check back with you,” said the healer. Taemon heard her walk out of the room.

“Renda,” whispered Da, “we can trust her. We might need her help again.”

“Shh!” Mam’s voice was barely audible. “Things are different now. She’s under a lot of pressure to report things like this.”

Mam and Da left the room, too.

Taemon opened his eyes again to make sure everyone had gone. Brain damage? Loss of psi? No wonder Mam sounded worried.

He reached out with psi to move his bedcovers. The sheet and blankets flew back instantly. Using psi felt easier than ever, more natural.

What a relief. Taemon knew what happened to people who didn’t have any psi. They were sent away. The nice name for that place was the powerless colony; the cruel name was the dud farm. It wasn’t safe for feebleminded people to be with normal people. They were slow and vulnerable, they couldn’t do any work, and they were unstable.

He thought about getting up, but even thinking about it made him tired. Two days had passed since the sea cave, and still he was worn out. He used psi to pull the covers over him again, then rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

He woke again, hungry. Famished. He stood up, woozy at first. With each wobbly step, he felt a bit more steady.

Chimes on the back porch jingled with the wind. Taemon smelled food and headed downstairs.

Mam stood in the kitchen with her back to Taemon. She stacked the dishes with psi. Coral-colored sunlight streamed through the windows. Was it dusk or dawn? Dinner or breakfast?

“Can I have something to eat?” Taemon asked.

“Oh!” Mam turned quickly, and a plate shattered on the floor. “You shouldn’t be up!” She rushed over and lifted his chin with psi, then looked into his eyes. “Are you all right? How do you feel?”

Awful,
he wanted to say, but didn’t. She worried enough as it was. Even so, as Mam studied his face, he found himself wishing she would . . . what? What was it he needed from her? He didn’t know, but a concerned look wasn’t it.

“Just hungry,” said Taemon. “Sorry about the plate.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Mam smiled, then turned toward the dishes and started filling a plate. “He’s hungry,” she said to no one in particular. “Of course he’s hungry. He’s fine, just like I said. Fit as a fig. What do healers know?” She used psi to ruffle Taemon’s hair in the way he didn’t like.

The food smells hung in the kitchen, and Taemon’s stomach rumbled. “So . . . I can have something to eat?”

“Something to eat! Yes, yes. Now, Taemon, you mustn’t rush things. Back to bed with you. I’ll bring you a plate in just a few minutes.” Dishes and food and broken plate pieces slid into their places as Mam used psi to tidy up. She hummed as she worked.

Taemon padded back to his room.

A food tray came floating in, laden with sliced pineapple, steamed grain, and shepherd’s cheese. Food! Finally! “Thanks, Mam,” Taemon said.

The tray settled itself on Taemon’s lap. With his psi, he lifted a huge bite toward his mouth.

But it wasn’t Mam who followed the food tray into Taemon’s room. It was Yens. “So, how’s the miracle boy?”

He hadn’t talked to Yens since the accident — if it really was an accident — and he wasn’t about to start now. He didn’t know what to say, and he was too hungry to talk. All he wanted was the food.

Taemon looked down at his plate as he chewed. He drew a hunk of cheese into his mouth. He couldn’t get it into his stomach fast enough.

Yens sat on the chair next to Taemon’s bed. “No one’s ever survived the Demon’s Maw. That’s what the cave is called, you know. Demon’s Maw.” Yens leaned forward. “How’d you do it, freakling?”

Taemon started in on the pineapple. What he’d done, with the seawater, with the breathing, it was definitely bad psi. People weren’t supposed to use psi outside their authority, beyond their training. He could get in big trouble if they found out he could do things like that. Locked up, maybe. Da would have a fit. Mam would . . . Mam would . . .

No. He couldn’t tell anyone. Especially not Yens.

Without warning, the plate lurched from Taemon’s lap and hovered close to Yens.

“I’ll eat and you talk,” Yens said, taking a large bite of pineapple. “Now tell me how you kept yourself alive. It was mind wandering, wasn’t it? Tell me how you did it.”

Taemon looked at the food as Yens ate. His body screamed for more. He wanted that food.
Needed
it.

“Tell me what happened, then I’ll give you the food.” Yens spoke with his mouth full. “If there’s any left.”

“I almost died because of you. Twice. Put yourself in danger if you want, but leave me out of it.”

Yens laughed, pineapple juice dribbling down his chin. “I’m the one who brought the rescuers. I’m the reason you
didn’t
die.” He took a bite of Taemon’s cheese.

All at once, it was too much to bear. The hunger, the anger, the fatigue. Taemon pressed his mouth into a tight line. His breath came noisy and fast. Before he realized it, he had snatched the plate away and pressed Yens and his chair up against the wall, all done with lightning-fast psi.

Yens had been taken by surprise, which Taemon hoped would give him a few seconds before Yens could clear his mind enough to fight back.

Taemon looked Yens in the eye. “No one is going to use mind wandering. Not you. Not me.”

Yens matched Taemon’s stare and gave a little shrug. “Fine. Next time, I let you die.”

That shrug. It was infuriating. Taemon had let out a little anger, and now all of it wanted out. “You want to know what happened in the cave? You want to know how I survived?” he said. “I’ll show you.”

He reached out with all his psi toward Yens. In an instant, he found Yens’s breathing tube and followed it down all the way to the tiny air sacs. Then he connected with the air particles in Yens’s chest. He pictured the air blowing like wind. Blowing up and out of Yens’s mouth, emptying the tiny sacs.
Be it so!
Tameon ordered.