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Nara blinked into the dark. She did not quite feel herself, and when she reached for her sword, it was not at her belt. When was the last time she had held it in her hand? She reached for the leather pouch, relieved to find it where she expected it to be, and then had to pull at the string and feel for the stones inside. Three. Was that all she’d had when she had found Haven this time? Was that how many she had always had?
Haven. He would be worried. She was worried. They had not been separated, unless one of them had died. She dragged in a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm her growing panic, but it did not help. She needed Haven; she needed to be near him. She needed to know he was alive and well. The deep mark on his face came to mind, as did the moment she had found him in this life.
He had been battered and older than she had seen him before. He might not have the strength for this. She focused on the memory of his face; although older, it was still his. The strong jaw she had found when she had shaved his beard, his strong shoulders still capable of carrying his large sword.
The stones clinked against each other in the unnatural silence as she slipped them back into the pouch at her waist, and her fingers moved to the fine red thread at her wrist. She could not see it, but she could feel the fine thread, linking them.
“She is the one he wanted,” a soft voice said in the distance.
A female voice. Had she not been taken by men? Nara could still feel the bruised points where they had held her too tight and dragged her to another courtyard, very similar to the one she had left.
She leaned towards the voice, wondering if she could determine who they were talking about or understand why she was there, but they said nothing further. Had Haven come after her? She had no memory of what had occurred between entering that second courtyard and now, finding herself in the dark.
If they were talking about her, was it because she was with Haven, or was it something else? Someone else? But who would be looking for her? Who even knew who she had been?
It no longer mattered, she thought, leaning back against the cool wall. It was damp, she realised—she was damp, as though she had been caught in the rain and had not had the chance to dry out.
Mer. The idea came at her like a slap. Haven had said there were Mer in the village, although she could not understand how they could be there without water. And then the rain had started.
The old man was willing to give them up, as he had given up his family. The memories rushed in and stole her breath. They had tried to give her to the Mer—they were planning to give her to the Mer.
Her sword was gone, Haven gone, but she was safe. And not Mer, she decided as she patted herself down. Not that she would understand what that might look like. She did not think she could be transformed into a creature herself; in some ways, she already was one. Something that could not be explained, something that could not live as normal people lived.
Taking a deep breath and using the wall to steady herself, Nara climbed slowly to her feet. She felt a little unsteady and pressed her hand against the wall. It felt damp, as though the whole room had been wet at some stage.
“When will he come?” another voice asked, hissing. There was something about it, but Nara could not place it.
She took a step forward, her hand out before her, and then another before her fingers found another wall. She ran them over the damp wood surface before her, unsure if it was a door or something else. No light seemed to penetrate it, and she was not sure if it was dark on the other side as well or if she was sealed away.
“How long can we wait?” the second voice hissed.
“As long as we must,” the first said—clear, well-articulated tones, a different accent. Were they the same? Were they both Mer?
“Can we—” The second was cut short by a slap that seemed to echo around the little space Nara was in.
Silence followed and, just as Nara thought she could risk moving and find a way out, the second voice murmured something.
“Again,” the first demanded.
“I apologise, my lady.”
“Better. Remember where you are and why you are here. You will not touch her; you will not consider touching her.”
“I just wondered...”
“Do not waste your time wondering. She is not for us, and she is not ... Is that him?” The question held a different tone, fear perhaps.
Nara held her breath, listening for any sign that someone else had arrived or who they might be. Had they been talking of Haven? But then, she did not think they would have to keep her safe to draw him in. He would be searching for her no matter where they might have taken her or what condition she might be in. Even if she died, he would continue looking for her, as she would him.
She slipped the stones back into her palm, aware of the slight sound they made rubbing against each other. In the unnatural silence, it seemed odd that in all the lifetimes and all the days she had carried them, she had not noticed the sound they made. She rubbed them between her hands, breathed slowly, and rubbed again. Then she held them tight. She would not be able to see them in the pitch black, but she did not need to. They told her that the creatures were close, the danger was close. And that Haven was too far away.
No, that was not right. Holding the stones tighter in her hand and thinking of Haven, he felt closer, closer than she had thought he could be. And then it was as though he was gone.
She sank down to the floor, feeling as though she had lost him all over again. Just as she had in that moment in their first life, when he had been lost and she’d known in that instant there was nothing for her to live for—that she could not live without him. Was it possible that he’d thought her lost and had given up?
As tempted as she had been over their lifetimes to follow him, she knew they would never meet at the tree and so had never again tried to follow so closely behind. She had to fight on. There was usually something that pulled at her attention, pulled at the need to end what was as unnatural as they were.
There was something behind that, something that pulled them through those lives, back together and then torn apart, something that drove them to fight and end whatever it was that was trying to take others. She did not know what that was. It was connected to their first life; it had to be. It was the only explanation, but there had never been any signs of her father, nor the curse he had talked of that night. She had not fully understood, and she wished so many times that she had asked more questions, but she had not understood the significance.
There had been no sign of the old lord, either—the man who was not nearly as old as the stories had claimed him to be. She had wondered on that point. But not often enough, she thought now, sitting in the dark alone with the stones held tight in her hand. He might have been something unnatural himself. Something they did not recognise at the time because they did not have the skills to understand or seek it out.
The few times Nara had held her mother’s stones in that first life, she had understood she would die, that the end was close and grew closer the more she held them. And so, she had left them in the small leather pouch with her mother’s dress. If she had taken the time to look, she might have seen Haven, might have understood something more of him and what was to happen. She sighed again, squeezing them tight, and an image of him—of her Haven—came to her. Standing in the doorway of her father’s library, firm and serious, frightening in his size and in the fact that the lord had called him in. And yet she had known in that moment that he would save her.
Not in that life—although in many ways he had, by taking her away from it—but in every day they would have together beyond that. The number of times he had stepped between her and a creature trying to kill her, it was as though his every breath was taken to keep her safe. And she tried to do the same.
She had to get out of wherever this was, find the light and find her Haven. She did not need him to save her, did not need him to risk himself so often, although she was grateful he did. And no matter what she told him, he would do it again. There had been some light moments amongst the fighting, hunting, and meeting frightened villagers. But not enough, she thought as she slipped the stones into the pouch. She longed for more time with just the two of them, moments like when she had cut his beard, where they could lie in each other’s arms and enjoy their time. Not desperate and hungry, although she enjoyed that too, but it was as though they had been apart forever and knew it was coming again.
Nara pressed her ear against the damp wooden wall. There was no sound beyond, no talking or whispering, no sign of a person or creature. There was no latch, nothing to indicate it was a door, but she gently pushed as though to slide it one way and then the other. There was no movement. She wondered if she had been against a wall and had been able to hear the conversation on the other side. She stepped right to find a corner, then turned and took a single step. This could be a very small room, or box, or cupboard, but she was not sure where she was or how she could get out.
Her fingers found a latch on the wall before her, and she lifted it gently. A wooden panel creaked too loudly as it swung slowly towards her. The bright moon lit up the courtyard beyond. Another that looked just the same. Nara wondered at this village with the same houses locked away from each other, the villagers not willing to save themselves. The sky was clear, but as she pulled at the shutter, it would not open any further. It only opened enough for her to reach an arm through, but not enough to get any more of her body out of.
If she were to call out to Haven, would he find her? Or would her captors, whomever they were, reach her first and stop her? Would calling Haven only increase the chance of his death?
She pulled at the shutter again, but it would not move, although her attempts made it creak loudly. She could break it, but she was not sure that would help her.
“Marina,” a voice hissed in the dark. Nara thought she saw some movement or the like, but she could not make out a person.
“Here.” It was the first voice she had heard through the wall.
A beautiful woman with long, dark hair that shone in the moonlight stepped into view, and Nara gently pushed the shutter closed until there was only a crack to see through. She did not want to alert them to the fact that she had found a possible escape.
“I wanted to see the moon,” Marina continued. There was something sad in the way she said it, and her hand held tight to something at her chest. “Did you find where he went?”
“Searching, searching,” the hissing voice said, but it was as though the woman standing in the middle of the courtyard was talking to herself.
Nara wondered if there was something else present that she could not see. Haven had been sure he had seen spectres, and this might be one of them.
But it was not. If there was a spectre, Nara was sure she would see it or sense it. She slipped the stones into her hand and took a deep breath, her focus on the woman before her. There was not the same pull. There was a feeling of danger, but not in the same way, and the idea of Haven drew closer. He would find her. Just as Nara had the idea, the woman turned and looked directly at her.
Marina smiled, as though seeing an old friend, but Nara got the idea that she was not a friend anyone would want. Something sparkled in her eye, her hand still at her chest. Nara wondered what she was holding and why it was important, because she held it close to her heart.
Nara opened the shutter enough for Marina to see her face in the moonlight, and the woman walked towards her.
“What do you want?” Nara asked.
“More than you can give me,” Marina answered easily, her hand still holding something close to her chest. Then the moonlight caught the golden glint of the sword at her side, and anger flared in Nara.
“I see something you could give me,” Nara said, trying to keep her voice level. She had no memory of how the sword had come into the woman’s possession, but it was hers, and she could not be without it.
A feeling of danger flashed in her hand as Marina stepped closer to the window, and Nara slipped the stones into their pouch.
The woman smiled again, but it was not the same friendly smile. Nara shivered. Her hand ached for the sword. A pale blue glow moved through the sword, and the woman stopped and looked down at it, then glared at Nara.
“I am not someone you can play games with,” she growled.
“Neither am I,” Nara returned. She was not the weak little girl she had been when she had first met Haven, bullied by her father. She was stronger now. She had grown to be someone much stronger. “Return what is mine.”
“No,” Marina said simply. She stood out of reach, but Nara wondered what power she had over her own sword, even at a distance. She reached for it. “I said no!” the woman growled, and Nara was pushed back into the small space. The shutter slammed shut, and she was in the dark again.
“I am not that easy to contain,” Nara murmured, hoping she was right. There had to be a way out of this space. She turned and tried the final wall, wooden as the others and no sign of a latch or doorway. She ran her hands over the wall, desperation taking over—she could not remain in the dark. She needed the light, she needed Haven. And she needed to know who it was who wanted her held here.
Nara banged on the wall using the side of her fist, and it sounded hollow. Then she tried again, banging her way up and down the wall, across it, and around the corner to the other. They must have gotten her into the space in some way, and they had not done it through the window. She banged on the shutter, and it moved a little, creaking. It sounded different to the other walls. She pulled at it, but it was not opening. The latch hung useless, and yet Marina had used some magic to seal it shut.
There were Mer. The whole reason they were here in this odd village was the Mer, the women in the rainwater taking the men and others. Taking life from wherever they could find it. For there was no water here.
Mer needed water, and they were using the rain, pulling any water they could find from the village. From a village with nothing and no water. A village that had once been something very different. Nara understood that. She remembered the alley they had walked along to the cottage Haven had found. A riverbed. Nara was not sure if that was how it had been and the Mer had lived in the rivers, or if it had become that way once they Mer had arrived sucking the water from the town.
Except there was still water where Haven had been staying. Had they not been able to reach it—or was it because he had been there, keeping it safe? Perhaps he had created a little haven of his own. Nara smiled at the idea. Although they could hurt him, she reminded herself, thinking of the gash across his face and the deep gouges in his side.
They could hurt him when he came out into their world. When he was in his, he was safe. Nara wondered if they could hide out there for a time, spend some time being alone. But their lives were not made for hiding. And if they tried such a thing, the world would pay the price.
Something shifted, a click that was almost inaudible as she stood in the dark. Then what had been a wall swung open. The candlelight filled the space, and a small girl stood there looking at Nara as though surprised she was there.
“Did you eat the cake?” the child asked.
Nara shook her head, and as she made to close the wall once more, Nara put out her hand and stopped it.
“You cannot be in there,” the child said despite trying to close the door that Nara had a hold of.
“You can let me out,” Nara said softly.
The child stepped back and looked up at her as though just realising she was there. She glanced around Nara into the dark space beyond and, with a shrug, let go of the door and walked away.
Nara was about to ask the child’s name or what she might be doing there when the girl disappeared into thin air. Nara paused, looking about as though it were a trick of the light, but the child had gone, and she was alone in a room lit by far too many candles. She slowly pushed the door closed, and it disappeared into the wall. Not that she wanted to open it again, but she could not even find how the child had opened it in the first place.
The room was lined with candles, shelves covered every wall, and there was no door—no way out. She was not even sure that she was in the same building attached to the strange room with a way to the courtyard.
She turned back to the wall she had emerged from and found nothing. There was no sign of a door, and shelves with candles covered the wall she thought she had emerged from. Was that possible, or was the room changing around her? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Had that happened before? Had she seen magic like this before?
For that was what it was. Magic—magic connected to the Mer. They had their own, used their voices to create spells with their song. Nara had seen that. But could they change the world around them? And if that was possible, why did they need the men from the village and what had they done to the women? Nara looked back towards where the girl had walked and disappeared. She headed in the same direction, walking with confidence towards what appeared to be a solid wall, and then she was standing in the courtyard she had peered into before.
Marina stood out in the centre of it, looking up at the moon. Nara paused as her steps crunched on the gravel, although she wondered if the woman already knew she was there. She wanted her sword, and she would not be leaving without it.
Marina turned slowly to look at Nara, the disappointment clear on her face. The light caught the silver ball attached to the fine chain around her neck. It glittered like moonlight on the water. Was that what she had been holding, or had the hand to her heart simply been hiding the pendant?
The way she moved as she stepped towards Nara reminded her of the ocean, of the gentle movement of the waves across the surface, but she could not take her gaze from the pendant. There was something there, something calling her, something scaring her. And yet she could not move, could not run.
As Marina’s steps slowed, her hand closed around the pendant again, and Nara blinked as though woken from a spell. Was this how they had pulled her away from Haven without her realising what had happened? The men had walked her to another courtyard. Was it this one? She glanced around then, trying to find something to ground her, to pull her back to the reality she was in. Although she was not sure she could trust it.
A shadow moved on the far side of the courtyard against the wall, near invisible, but she saw it all the same over Marina’s shoulder. She wondered if it belonged to the hissing voice she had heard before. Nara breathed out slowly. The world was moving, and she was reminded of the candles and the child who had appeared in the room.
“Who is she?” Nara asked, putting her hand to her head as the world moved again. “The child,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Not of your concern,” Marina said, and Nara looked up at the woman. Her lips were moving, and yet there was no sound. Nara reached for the pendant, taking two steps and trying to grab it. The distance was too far. As Marina’s lips continued to move, Nara’s steps faltered, and she fell to her knees.
The sharp gravel bit into her skin through her breeches. Her palms, far more exposed, found it too. She was hypnotised by Marina’s flowing skirt. Despite the woman standing still, it swayed back and forth. It was as though Marina was the water that was missing from this town. Everything about her cried of the ocean.
Nara pressed her hands to her ears.
In a way, it made the world clearer. As though she too were underwater, the sound of the water in her ears, the song penetrating everything and pulling what life she had left further away.
Just as suddenly as the feeling had started, it stopped. Nara lowered her hands and looked up at the woman standing over her, grinning as though she had won. “He would not want you hurt. Not by me. He would rather do that himself.”
“Who?” Nara managed, her own voice dry and raspy.
Marina only grinned down at Nara, her hand around the pendant, and the shadow she had seen moving against the fence was now flowing towards her across the courtyard.