The Tree of Water (3 page)

Ven's mind felt like it was slowing down along with the world around him. “Uh, well, you were the one who warned me that the Thief Queen in the Gated City was searching for me. It will be hard for her to find me in the sea, won't it?”

Madame Sharra let her breath out slowly. Ven thought he could see it sparkle in the air as she did. She glanced back over her shoulder to the north, where the Gated City stood within the walls of Kingston.

“If that is your reason, I suggest you leave as quickly as you can once I am gone.”

Ven followed her glance.

The sky in the distance was darkening with what looked like thin black clouds. Ven stared harder.

Though they were barely moving, he could see that what he thought were clouds was actually a gathering flock of dark birds.

“Ravens,” he whispered. “She knows I'm here. Felonia knows I'm here.”

“Perhaps.” Madame Sharra looked back at him, and her eyes narrowed. “Only one full turn of the moon has passed since last you and I met on the northern docks by the Gated City, Ven Polypheme. I warned you then that she and all her minions were seeking you. You left Westland to escape the Thief Queen's spies. For what reason did you return so soon?”

Ven coughed nervously. “I—had to get Amariel back to the sea,” he said. “If I hadn't, she would have stopped being a merrow and been human forever.”

“That seems folly. You don't appear to have spent too much thought on your reasons for making important decisions, Ven Polypheme.” The golden woman looked down into her hands. “But then, one does not always know the reason at the beginning of a journey. Sometimes you find the reason in the course of it. What matters is that at the end, you know why you undertook the journey in the first place.”

She extended her long, slender hand.

In it were two clear stones that looked a little like the marbles I used to shoot with my brothers Leighton and Brendan back home in Vaarn. The marbles we had played with were made from bits of glass fired into balls when the glass was hot. There was something different about these two stones—they gleamed in the light so cleanly and brightly that my eyes stung. There was something so enchanting about them that it was all I could do to keep from snatching them out of her palm.

“These will spare your throat, and that of your friend,” Madame Sharra said. “Take them.”

Ven obeyed. The stones were icy cold to the touch, and vibrated with what almost seemed like a hum.

“What are they?”

The golden woman smiled slightly.

“Hold your breath,” she said.

Ven obeyed. He took air deep into his lungs and held it.

Unlike most Nain, who fear the water, I can swim. In fact, I love to swim. Some of the happiest times of my life have been spent diving for pebbles and sea glass with Partch, a human school friend, in the shallow water off the docks in Vaarn, on the other side of the world where I was born. I can hold my breath for a pretty long time as a result of all that diving.

But as time went on I realized I had held it much longer than I ever had before.

And I didn't feel it was running out.

So I stood there, holding my breath, my chest loose and my heart steady.

For a
very
long time.

After what seemed like five or more minutes, he held out his hands in question.

“Elemental wind,” Madame Sharra said. “Living Air, left over from when the world was new. You don't need to breathe as long as it is on your person, so guard these carefully. They will breathe for you. If they are lost, however, the need to breathe returns immediately, no matter where you are, even fathoms deep in the sea. Should that happen, it is unlikely you will be able to return to the surface in time, and even if you do, coming up too quickly can be worse than drowning.”

Ven let his breath out. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was filled with awe. He put the stones in the buttoned pocket of his vest and rebuttoned it carefully.

“You still have one of the other gifts you have received from me,” Madame Sharra went on. She pointed to his palm, where the image of an hourglass, thread, and scissors could still be seen. “You have chosen not to make use of the gift of the Time Scissors?”

The image appeared in my palm when I chose a card from her deck during my reading in her tent. It came, she said, with the power to undo one thread of Time from my past, to change anything I had done. It's very odd to see a picture in my hand, a lot like the tattoos sailors sometimes get on their arms or chests. But for some reason, no one can see it but me. Well, I guess not
no
one
—none of my friends have been able to see it except Amariel.

And she's a very unusual friend.

“Not yet,” Ven admitted. “I'm a little nervous about undoing something I've done in the Past. I want to make sure that there is no other choice when I resort to that.”

“Wise of you. And the dragon-scale card? What have you done with that?”

Ven swallowed hard.

“I—uh—gave it to a dragon named Scarnag I met in the eastern lands past the Great River.” When the golden woman remained silent, he pressed on. “It came from the, er, hide of his mother.”

Madame Sharra was quiet for a moment. Then she reached into the folds of her robe and took out a thick oval stone casing, black as midnight, and handed it to Ven.

My hands shook as I reached for it. I had seen a casing like that before. This was a sheath of Black Ivory, like the one that held the first dragon-scale card she gave me. A thin, sharp ridge stuck out of the top, just as it had before.

Black Ivory is a piece of stone so dead that every particle of magic has been stripped completely out of it. As a result, it can hide anything from any type of sight.

Which is good, because the only things I've ever seen in Black Ivory sleeves are very powerful and very dangerous. They seem to call out to the world in invisible waves of sound when they are not hidden away.

About the last thing I want to do with something in a Black Ivory sleeve is to pull it out.

But I can tell by the look on Madame Sharra's face that this is exactly what she expects me to do.

He carefully ran his finger over the slit at the top.

The sharp ridge seemed to have vanished.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Ven looked at the top of the Black Ivory sleeve carefully. He could still see what looked like the ridge of a dragon scale, but when he tried to touch it, there was nothing there.

“Is it empty?”

“For the moment.” Madame Sharra passed her right hand over her left. In the left hand a deck of dragon-scale cards appeared, spread out like a fan. Each was a dull gray, scored with scratches. The light of the morning sun, frozen in the sky, revealed all the colors in them, causing them to flash like the rainbow Ven always saw whenever Madame Sharra appeared.

Ahh,
he thought.
It's not her—it's the scales that cause the flash. That makes sense.

“Does one of these cards call to you?” Madame Sharra asked.

Ven stared at the deck.

At first he saw no difference between them. Then, after a closer look, one of the scales tucked within the fan began to glow and vibrate with a tinge of indigo blue. Deep in his ears, it felt as if a very large bell had rung and was vibrating still.

He pointed to the card.

“That one.”

The golden woman nodded.

“Be certain of your choice, Ven Polypheme,” she said. “Because if you choose incorrectly, you may never get the chance to make such a choice—or any choice—again.”

 

3

Frothta

Ven's pointed finger shook a little, but did not move.

“That one,” he repeated. “That's the only one whose tone I can hear.”

The indigo glow disappeared.

“Take it out of the sleeve,” she said.

Ven's brows drew together in confusion. Madame Sharra's gaze grew cold, so he quickly held up the Black Ivory sleeve and pinched the sharp edge sticking out from the within the black stone.

This time his fingers felt something solid.

He pulled gently.

At first what peeked out looked like a dull gray piece of wax with a finely etched surface and sharp, frayed edges.

“Is this the scale I chose? How did it get in here?”

Madame Sharra's gaze grew colder, but she said nothing.

Quickly, as carefully as he could, Ven took hold of the sharp edge and pulled it from the Black Ivory sleeve.

Another colored flash stung his eyes.

In his hand was a tattered, grayish scale similar to the one he had been given before, with fine lines and strange writing across its surface. It hummed with a music he could feel deep within his ears.

The scale was slightly curved, as the other ones had been. On the hollow side was a crude image of a tree etched into the surface, with what looked like waves above it. Beneath the image were symbols in a language Ven did not recognize.
What is this now?
he wondered.

“This scale is known as Frothta,” Madame Sharra said. “The image is that of the tree of living, elemental water, old as the world is old. Legends say that once, long ago, in the Before-Time, it grew atop a tall mountain in the depths of the sea.”

“And are those legends true?”

The golden woman shrugged slightly.

“My eyes have never beheld such a thing. My ears have never heard the words of anyone else who has seen it. It may have existed once, long ago. Many things born at the time that the world was new are gone now. Old magic has largely passed from the earth. I cannot say for certain that it no longer lives, but if it does, it has fallen away from the sight of the Deck.” A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. “Just as you are trying to hide from the eyes of the Thief Queen.”

Ven's curiosity was burning so hot that his hair hurt.

“How would I find it? If it still exists, that is.”

“If you are looking for lost magic that was born in the Before-Time, you will need to find a place that no one else could look for it. It might be in a place of extremes—the hottest and coldest part of the sea, the highest and lowest place in the world, the brightest and darkest realms, all at the same time.” The Seer's smile faded. “Or you might have to accept that it no longer exists, as the rest of the world has. And that now Frothta is merely a symbol, just like all the rest of the runes and images on the scales of the Deck. A prediction of your future.”

“What does it mean?”

The golden eyes grew brighter. “When this card is drawn in a reading it can have many meanings. Sometimes it warns of an impossible task. Perhaps it is a warning about the journey you are about to undertake.” She smirked as Ven's eyes opened wide. “Or perhaps not. Sometimes it can mean bringing new power to an old or dead situation, the solving of what had been an unanswerable riddle or a lost cause.”

“That would be better,” said Ven.

“It can sometimes warn of something that is too good to be true,” Madame Sharra went on. “Right side up, it can signify breathing underwater, while upside down it can warn of drowning. And sometimes, it just means ‘the sea.'”

Ven stared at the image as long as he dared, then slid it quickly back into the sleeve. He held it out to Madame Sharra again. The golden woman shook her head.

“You are giving this to me?” Ven asked. “Why?”

“You seem to know what to do with it.”

“No, really, I don't,” Ven said quickly. “I have no idea what to do with this. Please take it back. I'm going into the sea, and as you have already pointed out, I really don't know what I am doing—”

“Be that as it may, the scale wishes to accompany you, at least for now.” Madame Sharra glanced over her shoulder again in the direction of the Gated City. “Perhaps it will help you discover the reason for your journey into the sea, Son of Earth.”

Ven looked down at the stone sleeve again. He ran his finger over the smooth surface. He imagined he could feel the vibration of the scale through the Black Ivory, even though he knew it was not possible.

“I'm afraid I will lose it in the sea,” he said finally.

“It will not be the first time such a thing has happened to the Deck of Scales, nor will it be the last,” Madame Sharra said. She looked more sharply at Ven.

“Do not be distressed, Ven Polypheme,” she said. “You are confused, because you have not sorted out your reasons for doing what you do in life. I believe the scales are trying to tell you something.”

“What? What are they trying to tell me?”

“I am not certain. But I can tell you this: in all the history of the Deck of Scales, from the Before-Time to now, they have never chosen someone to carry them as two of them have chosen you. The Deck has always been entrusted to a special tribe of Seren priestesses, Seers like myself, who read them as fortune-telling cards to anyone who can find us and pay us a gold coin. The mark in your hand that came from the Time Scissors scale has never been drawn by any of those people. There is something about you that is unique, totally unique in all the world. At least as far as the Deck is concerned.”