Mist on Water (14 page)

15

S
wimming into the cavern, the water grew murkier and murkier. Specks of dirt floated freely, and a new layer of shale and limestone that made up the cavern had settled far below. Had there been a cave-in? Had he been crushed, his bones smashed into a million pieces? The vision caused my heart to leap with joy, and I quickly surfaced. As I looked around, I noticed one thing. He wasn’t there. Not one spot of mangled flesh and bone showed itself. Only a dirt-riddled mess.

Panic gripped me. I twisted back and forth, my breath coming in quick angry gasps. And then a clump of dirt splashed into the water next to me. I looked up, and there he was, hanging by his fingertips at least fifteen feet up the rock wall. His sharp intake of breath sounded as a section of the wall broke free and tumbled past his dangling legs. He quickly sought another handhold, but the limestone broke under his weight.

He fell. Hard.

A rain of dirt and debris tumbled down, and I dove beneath the water. Rocks of varying sizes hit the pool, sinking past me, and the reverberations of stone hitting stone shook the water. When the cavern finally grew quiet, I crested, expecting no less than what I found. Rubble littered the cavern, and the man lay in a crumpled, dirty heap. Moonlight caught the glint of miniscule bits of mica that still floated in the air, and a pain wracked moan filled the cavern.

A fit of coughing followed, which meant he was bruised, but most assuredly alive. It would have been convenient if he weren’t. I glanced up toward the shaft of moonlight. The opening rose more than fifty feet above us where he had tried to climb out. He was determined. Much like me.

He moaned and his eyes flutter open. Water rippled as I moved closer, drawing his attention my way. His body tensed, and his startling sky blue eyes grew large. He bit his words out in sharp staccato. “What did you do?”

“I delivered your gift.”

He pushed himself to an unsure sitting position, but his gaze remained intense and focused solely on me. “You saw Nari? What did she say?”

“She cried.” I delivered the news with glee.

He did not receive it as well. “What did you tell her?” he demanded, gaining his feet as his strength returned with every passing second. He was a healthy specimen. Much more than the poor soul clamped to my wall had been.

I ignored his mounting alarm, and pulled myself from the water. My hair instantly dried and fell about my hips in blue-black waves. “She will go on with her life, now. She will find another to love.”

“You told her I was dead?”

“All living things die, human. Soon so shall you.”

“You keep telling me that, but here I am.” Shocked realization bloomed across his face. “You can’t kill me, can you?”

I whirled on him. “Sudden death need not always be the goal. There are many ways to punish man. Ask him,” I said, pointing to the long silent chained figure. “I can keep you here until you become mirror reflections. Or if I so will it, I can feed you bit by bit to the dragon.”

He went to the man and gripped a rusted chain in his fist. “Poor devil.” He cast a hateful look at me. “You are right. All living things must die.”

He suddenly ripped one of the weakened chains out of the wall, the skeletal remains breaking free, and faced me. “I wonder. Does a nix bleed?”

With a swirl of his arm, the chain whipped in a wide arc, whizzing toward me and forcing me to dive back into the water. I glared up at him through the muck of his doing. How had this happened? How had he caught me off guard? Surely something was wrong with this human. He should be cowering in the corner like all the others who begged for their lives, not racing after his own death.

Anger shivered along my skin. I shoved off the bottom and flew high into the air, stretching over him as he swung the chain uselessly over his head. I landed on my feet in a crouched position and slowly straightened.

My eyes reflected the hate in his. “Your death will not be pleasant.”

Holding out my hands, I called on the stones. The man swirled the chain faster, the whiz of its passing coming closer and closer. My appeal grew louder, and my fingertips began to bleed. The cavern groaned as if in pain and within a heartbeat, chunks of rock flew from their moorings, pummeling the man to his knees.

My pent up breath rushed from my lips. I was not surprised to see he still lived. He was indestructible. I approached his beaten form, yanked the chain from his hands and snarled, “Attacking me was unwise.”

He tipped his head up to reveal a multitude of abrasions. Blood oozed from dozens of cuts, yet he gave me a joyless smile and stared directly into my eyes. “Unwise mayhap, but oddly satisfying.”

Fearless as ever. Just like his father.

I twisted the chain around his body and dragged him to the opposite wall, securing a new mooring for the old stake before I stood back. “Not as satisfying as me watching you starve.”

“Is that how they died?” he said, nodding toward the dried up human.

“They?” I asked. I only had one trophy of my past vengeance.

“The man and the baby.”

My blood went cold. My gaze went straight to the place where I’d carefully laid out my daughter’s bones, but found the niche empty. I turned on him, my ire so strong, its heat dried my skin to a crackling parchment. “Where is she?”

Simpleton that he was, he only stared at me.

I flew at him, wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed. Yet just as before, a searing pain raked at my fingers, crawled up my hand and slithered toward my elbows. I gritted my teeth, determined to hold on and finish what I’d started.

He sputtered.

The pain clawed up my arms and over my chest.

His body lurched.

My neck burned and my vision blurred. And then blackness consumed me, shutting out all sound, all sight, all touch, and I crumpled to the floor.

When I came to, I felt the cold touch of iron upon my skin. The man had wrapped the chain around my arms…and he held the slack. I moved and he jerked against the chain, causing the iron to bite into my flesh.

“So, it comes to this,” he said, an exhausted, yet wicked smile on his lips. “We will both die.”

“You will die. I have always been and will always be.”

His smile turned knowing. “Your magic is strong, but not all powerful. Surely I will wither into a heap of skin and bones, but you…” He motioned to my flaking skin. “Without water, you will dry up into a pile of dust. A fitting end, seeing as we both win.”

I dropped my gaze to see a myriad of tiny fissures running along my hands and up my arms. My anger had depleted me of moisture. I glanced at the water. A surge of fear I had not felt in a long time rushed through me. I fought against the chain and tried to wriggle loose, but he only tugged harder.

“Do you know how long a man can live without water? They say three days, maybe a week if he’s very lucky.” He leaned back, opened his mouth and caught several drips of water that ran down the walls and onto the floor. His gaze returned to mine, and he smiled. “I’ve got water. What about you?”

The cavern that had always offered protection had turned against me. It carried water that I needed to my enemy and left me dry.

I slanted a glance at the man. He lay weakly nearby, eyes closed, his strength a faint reflection of itself. I turned my back on the grinning human and wrapped my arms about my knees. Yet a smile touched my lips. I concentrated on the water. Every drop, every small bead that hung on the walls of my cave I called to me. Slowly thin rivulets began to form, colliding with others as they snaked across the floor to where I sat.

He didn’t know it, but time was on my side…and I had little doubt he would die.

16

I
lunged toward the pool, my hands grasping for Ryne–my one true love. But he disappeared into the depths, the horror of the moment etched on his face and on my brain. The mist had retreated as suddenly as it had appeared, and the moon highlighted the suddenly calm water. It was if he had never been.

This couldn’t be real. My mind balked at the possibility, but my eyes did not lie.

The fear of him drowning flooded my thoughts, and I pushed it away. I would not give in; I had to save him. I dove into the pool, searching for him one blind inch at a time. Rising to the surface for air and then diving down again, the repetition put an ache in my side as the terror of not finding him climbed higher with every passing moment. On my final pass, I felt a fissure in the rocks, big enough for a man to fit through…and I knew. He was gone. The nix had finally collected her boon.

My lungs burned for air. It would be so easy to just breath deep now and end it all–the pain, the misery, the madness that had suddenly entered my life.

He is alive.

The voice whispered within my mind as clearly as if it were said in my ear.

Alive
.

The crazy feeling pulled me to the surface. It made me reach for the bank and drag myself onto dry land. I gazed out over the lake. Could it be? Somewhere, out there, Ryne was alive. I knew it was true. As the mist swirled ever farther out, I curled my knees to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my legs. My body rippled with exhaustion and tears slipped down my face. My mind had frozen on one thing only. “Ryne. Come back.”

What would I do without him?

I could not remember my life before Ryne. The moment I met him was the moment my life truly began. When I was younger, I adored him. When I grew older, just the sight of him sent me into clumsy fits and awkward silence. I did everything to impress him. Now, the very breath I took was done for him. He loved me. He had saved me. And what had I done?

Nothing.

Helplessness seared my mind with pain, with guilt—with longing. “Ryne.”

I would not leave this spot until he returned. I would lay siege to the nix and curse her very existence. I would mourn my love until God took pity on me and brought him back.

The color of deep night gave way to pre-dawn luster when the search party, a dozen men from the village including my father, brother and Ryne’s father, found me.

“Nari.” My father rushed forward and sank to his knees before he wrapped me in his arms.

Shivering and delirious, I muttered Ryne’s name over and over again.

I heard the men grumble, concerned for my condition, asking after my clothes and the absence of Ryne.

“What is wrong? Tell me,” my father pleaded.

A crack in my litany allowed the unbelievable to be spoken. “The nix.”

My father’s arms tightened around me as he stared out over the lake. “That cannot be.”

“What is wrong? What did she say?” the other’s asked, drawing close to hear.

My father turned disbelieving eyes on them all. “The nix.”

Ryne’s father turned pale. “The nix came?” he whispered on a hoarse note. His handsome face, so like his son’s, seemed to age ten years. The men beside him grasped his arms and supported him when his knees suddenly gave out.

My brother swung a cloak over my shoulders, and my father lifted me high against his chest. I laid my forehead against his neck and clutched at his shirt. “I cannot leave. He’s alive.”

My father’s arms tightened, holding me closer. “No, my child. He is gone.”

If I could have fought to be free, I would have, but I was too exhausted to do anything but curl against him as he carried me home.

I lay fevered for two days, and my delirium stoked their fears. The new wife’s hands trembled as she bathed my brow, and my father clutched my fingers tightly when I called out my distress.

All thought Ryne was lost forever. All gave up hope.

If they thought I would do the same, they were wrong. As soon as I was able, I went back to the lake. I knelt before the waters, ignoring the tide as it lapped at my skirts, and willed the nix to appear. Tears came and went, my sadness so heavy it felt like I would never breathe again, yet I did. Each breath came as a painful reminder of the water that separated Ryne from me.

I would not eat. I could not sleep. My vigil was the only thing worth doing. My father and brother, and even the new wife, came to take me home, but I would not listen. And when the nix came, I was ready.

The mist grew thick and the feeling I was being watched shivered down my spine. I snapped my head up and blinked away my fear. I searched the mist, until slowly a portion of it thinned, and the head of a woman emerged from the water.

My breath caught at the raw beauty of the nix, for what I could remember in the grotto was more shadow than form. Her dark hair floated around her like a living creature as her skin shimmered an angry red. My own anger spiked, and I didn’t wait for her to speak. I grabbed my wet skirts and stood, wading out toward her. “Give him back,” I yelled.

My aggression made her blink. She held up her hand. “Stay where you are, human, or risk your own death.”

The forceful command stopped me cold. What had she done to Ryne? Had she come to tell me he was gone? Water swirled around my thighs as tears coursed down my cheeks. “Where is he? Give him back. Please. I beg of you.”

“I cannot.”

“Why? He has done nothing to you.”

“But he has. His fair face has stolen my heart as I have stolen his. He does not wish to return to you.”

She understood her affect on men, and over the ages she had played her charms to their fullest. I did not see how any man could resist her. A tiny fissure ripped into my faith. Had Ryne fallen victim to her as well?

Ryne loves you
.

With a certainty I couldn’t explain, I knew the strange voice in my head spoke the truth. I narrowed my eyes and spat, “You lie.”

Her skin suddenly changed to a dusty rose and she waded closer. Her dark hair instantly dried and covered her body in long shining locks. “Look at me. Listen to my voice. What man would wish to leave my side? None. All love me.
He
loves me. He is mine. Forever and always.”

She then opened her palm to reveal the handkerchief I’d given Ryne. “He bade me give this to you as proof.” She unfolded the cloth to reveal a small treasure. “Take it and leave us be.”

The roll of the tide rang in my ears. My mouth opened on a deep, shaky breath. I stared at the embroidered cloth that labeled it mine, at the small ransom of jewels, disbelieving what I saw. My heart gave a painful squeeze. Ryne would never willingly relinquish the token of my affection. Nor would he try to buy his freedom. What had she done to him?

She twisted the cloth together and held it out. I lifted my hand toward the handkerchief. “Ryne?”

She suddenly tossed the cloth toward me and disappeared. The handkerchief landed in the water near where I stood, and I immediately stooped to find it.

Gordie came up behind me and tried to lift me up, but I fought free until my fingers closed around the handkerchief. “Where do you go? Into the lake?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and hauling me out of the water. “Do you wish to die, too? Please, Nari, you cannot do this to yourself. To us. He is gone.”

I glanced over my shoulder, toward the empty lake. “No. She was here. The nix. She was here. Ryne’s alive.”

Once on land he let go and slanted a doubtful look at me. “If she was here, what did she say?”

I showed him the cloth, unwrapped it and poured the sparkling gems into his hand. The large, sapphire blue stone settled on top. As Gordon eyed the treasure, I traced my fingertip over the simple design I’d embroidered, unable to believe Ryne had willingly given it back. “She claims he doesn’t love me anymore.”

Gordie scratched at his ear, clearly hesitant to speak. “Nari. What makes you think she’s telling the truth? The nix has killed every man who ever dared the lake. He’s most likely dead.”

“What of these?” I asked, pointing to the gems. “Did I just find them in the surf? She told me he lives. I know it to be true. You have to believe me. Ryne
is
alive.” I’d grown so agitated, I nearly screamed my belief in his face.

Gordie rubbed my back and nodded as if he were humoring a crazy woman. “Calm down. You are going to make yourself ill again.”

I shrugged off his hand and shoved my fingers through my hair. I could easily pull it out from frustration. “I am heartsick, Gordie. I know the truth, yet no one believes me and their distrust stings worse than nettles. I have not lost my senses. I know I am the only one who believes he is alive. I cannot explain why I do, for when I try, I sound demented. I just
know
it to be true”

Gordie nodded, his usual jovial face a mask of seriousness. “Then I believe you. But there is another aspect you have yet to consider. I think, if all the stories are true, a man is incapable of resisting a nix. And if that is so, there is nothing you can do. He is not coming back.”

“Do not dare say such a thing.” I shook my head, unwilling to believe him. “She is keeping him prisoner.”

“Nari,” his voice still held a note of doubt.

I felt sick inside. Did no one believe me? I turned my back on him, clutching the handkerchief to my chest as I sank to the wet sand. “The nix is a fool if she thinks I will accept her word. Ryne loves me. I know he does.”

Gordie squatted beside me, his face pointed in the same direction as mine, and he sighed. “Sitting here, staring out at the lake and starving yourself won’t make him come back.”

“What else can I do but wait?”

“You have never waited for anything in your life, Nari. Why would you now?”

I turned to him and studied his profile. Was this a trick? Was he just humoring me to get me home? “What do you mean?”

“If you really saw the nix, and you believe Ryne is alive, find a way to get him back.”

“How?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe someone in the village knows more about the nix than we do. Maybe they’ve heard other tales…other myths that may sound more real to us now.”

My heart jumped a beat; it was almost too painful to hope. “Maybe…”

He held out his hand. I stared at it for a long moment, indecision warring inside, until I finally placed my hand in his. He smiled. “If there is a way to get Ryne back, we’ll find it.”

“You believe me, then?”

He looked at the handkerchief in my hand. “I don’t know. It’s all so strange, isn’t it? But you’ve never lied before, and Ryne is my friend…so…”

I hugged him, and pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Gordie.”

What had I expected? A change of heart? Bravery? The villagers were halfwits. And as they lounged in the warm pub, ale in fists, I told them so.

Gordie pulled me aside, wary of the disgruntled looks shooting our way, and whispered for my ears alone, “Insulting them is hardly the way to win their favor.”

Anger had taken hold of me, and I was sick to death of the lot of them. “What do you suggest?” I was running out of ideas.