Unwritten Books 2 - Fathom Five (13 page)

You may call me Merius.”

He turned her hand over, revealing the blue-black birthmark in the centre of her palm. “Ah! I knew you were special. You have a mark.”

“A mark?”

“On your palm. Such marks carry great significance among my people.”

“This?” Rosemary held up her palm. “This isn’t a birthmark, it’s a … yes. Great significance. I’m very significant. Yes.”

Merius chuckled again. “Worry not, Rosemary. I would have rescued you, mark or no.”

“That’s great,” said Rosemary. “Wonderful.”

Relief swept through her. After hours on edge, fearing for her life, the lightness of her soul made her swoon. She lay before the bonfire and closed her eyes. Merius said nothing, but crouched down and stared out on guard over the water.

Rosemary lay in a daze, collecting her thoughts. The wind whistled and the surf roared. Finally, with her eyes still closed, she said, “I need your help, Merius.”

“I thought as much. How came you to be here?”

Rosemary opened one eye. The right side of her body was hot from the fire; her left side still wanted to shiver. “I fell off a cliff.”

Merius raised his eyebrows. “How?”

“I was trying to keep a friend from falling off.”

Merius stared at her. The flames of the bonfire reflected off his eyes. “You did not come alone?”

“No. I’ve been looking for my friend ever since. His name’s Peter. Have you seen him?”

Merius looked away, deep in thought. Rosemary sat bolt upright. “You
have
seen him!”

“She said she brought him here alone,” Merius muttered.

“Brought him here?” she echoed, her voice rising. “You know about this? Who kidnapped him? What do these people want from him? Who are they?”

“These people are my friends and my family,” said Merius, not looking at her. “They are the people of my village.”

Rosemary shifted away from him. “You approve of this?”

“I’ve seen it happen,” said Merius. “A long time ago.

But never with a second person complicating things.”

“Complicating things?!”

“Yes. So, I have to ask, who is this Peter?” He looked at her. “What does he mean to you?”

“He’s my friend.” Rosemary stared as Merius’s gaze darkened. “What’s wrong?”

“How much of a friend?”

“A good friend! I went off a cliff for him? That sort of friend!”

“This is important!” Merius grabbed her by her shoulders, ignoring her squeak of fear. “How well do you know this Peter? Are you pair-bonded?”

“What?” she spluttered. “No! Look, what is going on here? All I want is to find Peter and bring him home. If you know where he is, then I demand you take me to him right now!”

“Why? What home does he have to go to? Why would you risk so much to bring him back when he is so alone?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Who is he to you, Rosemary Watson? If you are not pair-bonded, why are you here? I have to know!”

“I-I—”

He shook her. “Tell me!”

“I love him!” she shouted. “There, are you happy? I’ve loved him since we first met, but I was just too stupid to figure it out!”

Merius let go of her and Rosemary scrambled away. He stood up and stared over the rumbling water, shaking his head grimly. “Then she has overstepped her bounds.”

“‘She’? You mean that woman ...,” she started. “Her
bounds
? Oh, that’s good. That’s really good. It’s good to know that your bounds stop just short of
kidnapping
!”

Merius gave her a sad smile. “Do not judge us harshly, Rosemary Watson. We thought that Peter was a Lost Child.”

“A Lost Child?”

“We once took in dozens of Lost Children. Shipwrecked sailors, too; people who had cut their ties with the world around them and would have drowned if not for us.” He sighed. “We gave them a new life. But the sailors stopped coming. The children are all gone, too.”

They stood a moment. The wind tugged at Rosemary’s clothes and hair. Finally she said, “Whatever. Will you help me bring Peter back?”

He looked at her for another long moment. Then he nodded.

“Thanks,” said Rosemary. “How do we do it?”

“I will take you to my people. There, you will challenge the council’s claim on Peter.”

“A challenge? A simple ‘oops, I’m sorry, but we made a mistake’ won’t suffice?” Her heart fell as he shook his head. “Why not?”

“They will not take my word alone,” said Merius. “A powerful woman has taken Peter and I’m something of a … maverick among my village. The council will need additional convincing.”

“Peter will do that. I just have to talk to him.”

“Perhaps.”

Rosemary jumped to her feet. “Well, let’s not just stand here; get me across the lake so I can rescue Peter!”

Merius smiled at her burst of energy. “And how shall I do that, Rosemary Watson?”

“Umm … boat?”

“I have no boat.”

“We walk then. Along the beach?”

He chuckled. “You are at the edge of my world, lass. You could walk straight along this beach forever, and only come in a circle.”

She frowned as she tried to put this description together. She gave up quickly. “Well, you got here. Take me the way you came.”

“Do you trust me, Rosemary?”

She stepped back and stared at him. “Sure?” she said at last.

“Trust me.” He stepped forward and took her hand. Leading her to the water’s edge, he waited patiently while Rosemary hesitated. “Trust me.”

Rosemary took a deep breath and stepped into the water. She bit her lip at the cold. Merius tugged her forward. She walked until she was knee deep, then waist deep.

When she was chest deep, Merius stopped and gripped her shoulders. “You
do
trust me, Rosemary Watson?”

Rosemary swallowed hard. “I did before you kept asking me! Now, what do we do? Swim?”

“No. Breathe.”

He put his hand to her head and pulled her underwater.

Submerged, Rosemary could only look at the murky lake floor. Then she tried to stand up, but Merius pressed her down.

Realization struck her with a blast of bubbles. She tried to push back, to turn her head, get a breath, but Merius wouldn’t let her.

She screamed, wasting precious air. She became a flurry of arms, legs, and bubbles as she fought for her life. Her lungs ached, began to beg. She could feel the cold water on her tongue, in her sinuses, at the back of her throat.

“It’s not fair!” she cried. Then she gasped. She could yell. She wasn’t drowning. She was floundering on her back in water. Wasn’t she face-down a moment ago?

She looked around. She was in a shallow bay where the wind did not blow as strong or as cold. Cliffs rose ahead of her and a lake stretched behind her, reminding her of home.

Then she became aware of Merius crouching beside her, a hand on her shoulders, holding her steady. She raised spray scrambling to her feet. “You drowned me!”

Merius smiled darkly. “And yet you live.”

She batted his hand away. “No! You tried to drown me!”

Merius laughed. The bass quality of it resonated in her chest. “It was necessary.”

“Necessary?!” She clutched her chest. Her lungs were free of water; there wasn’t even a tickle in her throat. Except for being wet (again!), she was unharmed. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing instead of pulling me underwater like that?!”

“Rosemary, if I told you to stick your head underwater and take a deep breath, could you have done so?”

“Maybe, if you had told me!”

Merius just looked at her.

Rosemary looked away. “Okay. No.”

He shook his head. “You cannot just walk into our world. You must fall into it, or be pulled through.”

“Is that what happened to Peter?”

Merius nodded. “Do you forgive me?”

Rosemary gave him a long look. “What do we do now?”

“I take you to my village.”

“Fine. Where is your village?”

Merius pointed to the cliffs. Rosemary shook off his helping hand and splashed towards the shore. She trekked ahead of Merius along the beach. It was only when she reached the gully that she stopped, struck by the familiarity of it all. She stared over the cove, picking out all the landmarks of home.

Merius stepped beside her. “You are not mistaken, Rosemary. This world is a reflection. An echo, a memory.”

“Then where was I?”

“The halfway point. When you travel to your reflection, you must first pass through the glass of the mirror itself. A dangerous place.”

“Oh.” She shook away the strangeness. “Peter.”

“Follow me.”

They climbed the gully and emerged onto the plateau where Clarksbury would be, had it been there. Rosemary didn’t see Merius’s village until he abruptly pulled her behind the cover of a tree.

“A simple ‘quick, hide’ would do, you know!”

“Sorry.” Merius pointed. Rosemary looked ahead.

She frowned, trying to figure out what she was seeing. At first, she thought she was looking at another set of cliffs, or possibly a grouping of flowerpot islands — pillars of eroded brown stone with tufts of vegetation on top, of the sort that stuck out into Georgian Bay near her home. Then she saw caves and blob-like windows broken into the columns of stone, and sirens walking in between. She thought of a gigantic sandcastle that had been broken apart by waves. The walkways between the sandy columns wound like the synapses of a mind.

Merius eased her back. “It is important that you not be seen.”

Rosemary’s eyes narrowed. “I thought I was supposed to challenge their claim on Peter.”

“You will. When the time is right.”

“I’m not good with patience.”

“Then you shall have to practise.” He cast a quick glance at the village. “The one who brought Peter here will not take your challenge lightly. We must take her by surprise.”

“Mortal combat isn’t involved in this challenge, is it?”

“I’m not sure.”

Rosemary threw up her hands. “All right, I’ll follow your lead … so long as your plan to smuggle me into the village doesn’t involve me tied up in a sack.”

Merius blinked at her.

Rosemary gasped in amazed frustration. “That
was
your plan for smuggling me into the village, wasn’t it?” Her voice rose until Merius cast nervous glances around for potential eavesdroppers. “No, you find a better way. I’ve fallen off a cliff, nearly frozen to death, been attacked by salamander-piranhas, squid, and a woman who sealed my face in ice! And you tried to drown me! I am
not
having a good day! I will not cap it off with being tied into a sack and smuggled inside a hostile village. Think of something else!”

***

Merius strode into his village, a heavy sack hoisted over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” the sack muttered.

“If you had thought of a better method, I would have used it,” Merius shot back.

“Why does this sack smell of fish?”

“Quiet!”

“Merius!” cried a youthful, joyful voice, tenor to Merius’s bass. “Good catch?”

Rosemary’s groan cut off abruptly as Merius jounced the sack.

“Yes,” he coughed. “The water has been good to me.”

“I look forward to the feast,” said the man, passing.

“I promise a few surprises,” Merius called back. Then he resumed his stride.

“Do you have to bounce so much while you walk?” Rosemary muttered.

“Hush. This is a public street.”

“Merius!” a woman called. “Have you heard?

Fionarra has returned with a boy!”

“Yes,” said Merius. “I was there when she brought him home.”

“You were?” Surprise clouded the woman’s voice.

Then she said, “Ah! I see Eleanna sent you for food for the Homecoming feast. You work fast! Fare thee well!”

“Fare thee well.” Merius strode on and Rosemary heard the voices and footfalls withdraw as he turned off the thoroughfare and into a narrower walkway.

“Are we there yet?”

“Hush,” said Merius. “Almost. But until I have you in my home, you must remain silent.”

Rosemary huffed.

Then she heard a voice, muffled through an open window, that made her freeze.

“... mentioned that yesterday,” said Peter. “What is the ‘Homecoming’?”

Another voice. “It is a ritual. It is performed when one of our number returns to us. It will reintroduce you to your people — emotionally, socially, and physically.”

Then the voices faded as Merius walked on. Rosemary noted the location and kept track of how long Merius walked and whether he walked straight, or turned left or right.

Finally, he entered a silent room, and swung the sack off his shoulder, plunking it on the floor.