Chapter Nine

 

Ancient Ireland, 3500 BC

Pele’s white fire eventually dissipated. I stared with marvel at my clothes, pure and clean. Now that is something I’ve gotta learn. Pele’s skill at helping me jump through time unscathed impressed me. Sure, the burning and nausea left something to be desired, but still, for the first time ever my skin and clothes didn’t end up charred and covered in soot.

Raising my head, I soaked in my surroundings, momentarily letting my body adjust to the new environment. The approaching autumn painted a few trees with splashes of gold and auburn. Otherwise, every inch of the ground appeared blanketed in more shades of green than I’d ever seen in my life, cut only by a winding dark gray river. Thick clouds hung low, enveloping the verdant landscape in a shroud of mist.

I scanned the countryside, looking for a sign of Gaia and Hydros. Down the riverbank, I noticed a small hut and the slow movement of a few head of cattle who grazed on the thick grass. With no other evidence of villages or settlements nearby, I decided to head there. Why else would Pele have sent me to this remote emerald isle?

I inhaled a deep breath to steady my nerves, but the saturated air reeked of damp earth, providing little relief. Anxious to conceal myself from Gaia who had found me so many times in the past, I headed toward the forest’s edge. But she’s not looking for you, Pele’s voice echoed in my mind. I hoped she spoke the truth and this mission would help me better understand my foes.

As I walked, beads of dew clung to each blade of grass, dampening my boots and the hem of my skirt. My movement alarmed a thin ground bird with mottled feathers and a crown striped in black. He tilted his head backward and emitted a loud crek, crek…crek, crek call before he took to flight. His bright wings flashed the color of chestnuts against the green vegetation as he darted to safety with his thin legs trailing behind.

I quickened my pace to distance myself from the sounds of nature, hoping they wouldn’t draw attention from Gaia. The humid air stuck inside my lungs. Thick dark clouds threatened to spill their contents and soak the earth. I pressed onward toward the wide, winding river, hoping to seek shelter in the hut before the sky drenched this already sodden, green land.

I glanced up the river teeming with salmon and caught a glimpse of movement up ahead. A figure cloaked in a dark traveling cape walked urgently toward the nearby hut and herd of cows. I instantly dropped to my knees, ducking behind the reeds and took measured breaths, my heart beating rapidly inside my chest. When the person turned for a moment, unruly russet curls poked out from under her hood. I recognized her hair instantly, curled tightly in the high humidity and impending rain. A pleased smile spread across my lips knowing I accomplished the first of my tasks. I found Gaia without her noticing me.

Sloshing as quietly as possible through the wetlands, I trained my eyes on her every movement. Fortunately, between the gurgling current and the splashing salmon heading upstream, the river masked most of my noise.

This landscape appeared confusing and alien to me, but Gaia walked with confident, hurried steps. She turned up a trodden dirt footpath toward the hut nestled along the base of a steep hill. Long grasses, reeds, and straw blanketed the entire dome-shaped hut from the rooftop to the ground, protecting it from the elements. The home possessed only one small rounded entrance in the front, too low to walk through upright. When Gaia approached the hut, I ducked behind the thick trunk of a nearby oak to watch the scene unfold.

Outside the thatched hut, a tall, lithe girl—perhaps sixteen years of age—hummed to herself in a carefree tone while she gathered supplies. Her dark brown hair flowed freely in the light breeze. She wore clothes like mine, in simple shades of brown and gray, accented with a white sash around her waist and basic embroidery outlined upon her sleeves. When she glanced up at the stranger, I instantly recognized her bold blue eyes and knew I’d found Hydros—or at least her former self.

Determined, Gaia strode right up to Hydros. She threw back her hood and introduced herself to the girl.

“Shannon,” the girl said, wiping her hands clean on the sash of her skirt before she extended one hand in greeting.

My eyes grew wide. She had another name, too? My throat felt tight, thinking of Gaia cradling Hydros’s dying body. Was the Water Elemental much different from myself?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shannon,” Gaia said and accepted the girl’s hand. Even from this distance, I saw Gaia’s eyes gleam with delight.

“I can see that you are not from these parts. Are you in need of food or drink?” Shannon offered.

“Perhaps, if I might stay and rest my weary feet awhile. Are you alone?” Gaia asked, surveying the vacant farm.

Shannon nodded. “My parents and twin are fishing. The salmon have returned to their home. Can you not hear them calling for her?” she asked and tied a rope around the neck of the nearest cow and petted its dark brown coat and white muzzle with affection. Guiding the cow toward a post near the hut, Shannon lashed her rope in place, holding the animal steady while she prepared her for milking.

“Calling for whom?” Gaia wondered aloud.

Shannon pointed to the embroidery upon her sleeves. Squinting, I could barely make out the forms of fish swimming against the river’s current. She explained, “Sionan, the woman who dared to eat the forbidden salmon from the well. Legend says that when red berries from the Rowan trees fell into the well, the fish that ate the fruits not only gained red spots but incredible wisdom. The men worked very hard to collect these salmon, but woman were prohibited from joining in the work. One day a woman named Sionan caught a red spotted fish and ate it, wisdom and all, when suddenly the waters rushed forth from the well and swept her into the sea.”

I peeked out from behind the tree, grateful neither Gaia nor Shannon seemed to notice me eavesdropping. Preoccupied with her work, Shannon paused her story to grab a hand-carved stool and a bowl of pottery. The cow lowed softly and chewed her cud, her large cheek muscles grinding from side to side. Shannon set her earthen bowl and milked the cow.

“Every year the fish return by the thousands,” Shannon continued dreamily. “When they pass on their journey upstream, I think I hear them whisper her name. It’s like they’re talking to me. My parents named me after Sionan and the river that shares her name,” she said. “Almost like they knew we had something in common.”

“Or that you both seek knowledge. A knowledge that I alone can provide,” Gaia added. She set her hands upon her hips, appearing delighted with the course of their conversation. She couldn’t have scripted it better herself.

Shannon pinched her eyebrows together. “How so?

“You said you hear the salmon whisper your name, correct?” Gaia began.

“Yes…” the girl answered with hesitation.

Gaia’s mouth curled up on the sides. She flashed Shannon a knowing look. “But those are not the only creatures who listen to you, are they?”

Shannon stood up with a jerky motion, sloshing some of the fresh milk out the side of the bowl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with a shaky voice and started for the house at a quick pace.

In that moment, I realized that unlike me, Shannon was already aware of some of her powers. How Gaia knew this fact remained beyond my level of understanding. But Gaia wasted little time in arguing her point, wishing to take Shannon and leave this pastoral existence. She stepped in line behind Shannon to press her point. “The salmon, the river otter, the waterfowl—they all respond to your wishes, do they not?”

Shannon cast a nervous glance over her shoulder before squatting through the door of her hut. With Gaia preoccupied, I quickly scampered to hide behind a closer tree, eager to hear the rest of their conversation.

“And it’s not just them, is it?” Gaia goaded through the narrow entrance of the hut, “but the Cata monster, too. Am I right?”

Shannon returned outside, empty-handed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Shannon replied with a nervous laugh. “The Cata is nothing but a tale. No one has ever seen it.”

I peeked at Shannon, trying to discern her true intentions. Did she sound nervous this stranger knew too many of her secrets? Or did the girl fear for the safety of the Cata monster Gaia mentioned? I couldn’t say for sure.

“Do not worry. Your powers are safe with me,” Gaia replied unconvincingly. Her lips curled into a cunning smile—one I knew all too well. I had learned from experience that Gaia would say whatever necessary to sway someone to her side. “But others may not treat you so kindly. If you come with me, I can teach you to stretch your abilities and learn the greatness of your powers. You are capable of much more than communicating with simple creatures that live within your realm.”

“My realm?” Shannon asked. Her hand trembled, reaching for a clean pottery bowl. “I’m afraid I do not understand what you are talking about.”

A fly buzzed by my ear. I shooed it away, desperate not to miss a single word.

“Oh, don’t be so naïve,” Gaia retorted. “You are aware you possess powers that others do not. Do you not see that the river ebbs and flows with your command, helping to irrigate your family’s crops from one season to the next.”

Shannon shook her head. “I only tried to save time from carrying the water myself. I meant no harm.”

“And why do you think your mother sent you to collect shellfish for supper?”

“Because I always return with a full bucket?” Shannon proposed.

“No,” Gaia explained, “it’s because you alone can halt the tide’s advances.”

“That’s preposterous. I simply gather the limpets and mussels when the tide pools are low.”

“Yet their levels remain low far longer than naturally possible whenever you go near the shore.” Gaia gave the girl a meaningful stare. “Still you do not believe,” Gaia pressed, taking a step closer to Shannon. “Tell me you have not noticed that the weather seems to mirror your very mood?”

“What are you suggesting?” Shannon shrugged. She wrapped her arms tensely around the empty bowl. “It rains here often, regardless of my moods.”

“But haven’t you noticed that the skies share in your pain, letting their heavy contents fall whenever you grow sad?”

She thought about this for a moment and dismissed the connection. “It’s merely a coincidence.”

“Yet you don’t question why you often feel sad?” Gaia pressed.

Shannon looked at Gaia in silence, waiting for her to explain.

“It’s because you are not challenged to meet your full potential. That is why I am here,” Gaia declared. “To show you your destiny.”

“And to do this, I must leave my family?” Shannon asked, her lip quivering. “Leave this life?”

“Of course,” Gaia said and crossed her arms over her chest. “A small sacrifice for the greatness you may achieve.”

“I must decline,” Shannon admitted with a tone of finality. “I like my life, love my family. I have no need for anything more, regardless of what you may think.”

A pang of jealousy gripped my heart. Why didn’t I have the same foresight to distance myself from my family before Gaia turned my fire powers against my defenseless parents and little sister?

Gaia unwound her arms and placed both her hands on her hips. She clicked a disapproving tut-tut with her tongue. “Foolish child. There is so much more waiting for you than this mundane life. Come with me and I will show you precisely what I mean.” Gaia walked a few paces from the hut, expecting Shannon to follow. Yet the girl remained rooted to her spot.

Gaia turned. “You don’t need to make this difficult. Surely, you understand you have no future here. Your only option lies with me.”

“No. I will not leave my home.” Shannon stood defiantly by her front door. But her lips trembled when she added, “This is all I know.”

I watched the girl shake, sharing her fear. Strangely, I found myself sympathizing with Shannon, the girl who became the despised Water Elemental.

Anger flooded Gaia’s face, making her eyes grow thin. She skimmed the farm, seemingly searching for something to sway Shannon’s mind. In that instant, I realized with Shannon’s family conveniently absent, Gaia lacked sufficient motivation to instill fear through her powers. It was different with me when my family lay trapped inside our burning home.

“Foolish, stubborn girl,” Gaia muttered to herself, her nostrils flaring like a charging bull. “Only concerned with the moment. She lacks the foresight to look beyond the boundaries of her sheltered world. Still, without her…”

Shannon studied her with trepidation, waiting for her to finish her thought. Yet instead of speaking, Gaia closed her eyes, focusing her anger and frustration inside and released it with a sudden stomp of her foot. A tremor rocked the earth, loosening the soil along the hillside and sending a shower of pebbles tumbling down against the base of the hut. The milking cow gave an alarmed moo, trying to distance herself from the commotion.

Shannon screamed. Her bowl dropped from her hands, shattering into jagged fragments upon the ground as the landslide intensified. Gaia ground her foot into the earth, concentrating and directing her power toward the loose material at the top of the hill before sauntering back down the trodden path, leaving Shannon terrified and alone.

A loud rumble followed. Rocks and boulders bounced down the steep slope, aimed directly at the roof of the hut. The cow’s eyes grew white with fear. She jerked at the rope digging into her neck, desperate to escape from her milking post.

Biting her lip, Shannon faltered, torn between returning to save the unfortunate cow or fleeing for her life. Her face wrought with conflict, Shannon turned from the hut, racing down the path after Gaia. I ducked behind the tree trunk when she passed, then peeked out the other side, my eyes trained on her form.

The rumbling increased, more rocks piling about the flattened hut. I pressed my fingers to my eardrums, unable to block the clamor. Luckily, Shannon’s family could not suffer the same fate as mine who lay trapped inside our home as the burning roof collapsed upon them. Despite the pain she currently endured, I envied her fortune.

When Shannon caught Gaia and tackled her to the ground in anger, the noise finally ceased. Shannon panted as she pinned Gaia to the muddy path and watched the cloud of dust settle from the falling rocks. Nothing remained of Shannon’s home except a mass of rubble and debris. Her face reddened. She stared at Gaia with hostility.

“What are you doing? Why are you doing this to me?” Shannon cried and pointed to the ruins of her home and farm. As if on cue, a light misty rain dripped from the low, gray clouds.

Gaia’s hair turned frizzy in the soggy weather, tightly framing her face. She squinted into the dreary sky. Her lips twisted into a sly smile, watching the droplets fall with timed precision. Inside her calculating mind, I imagined her envisioning the possibilities of Shannon’s untapped powers, once she could properly control them to do her bidding.

Gaia’s face changed, masking her thoughts. With a rehearsed sigh of feigned exasperation, she looked back at Shannon and said, “I told you before. You are the one who manipulates the element of water, from the sky, lakes, rivers, and ocean. Like me, you are one of the Four Elementals. It makes perfect sense that you join me and learn to use your powers as they were intended. In fact, there is no other choice.”

Shannon’s brow creased, filled with enmity. “And if I don’t?”

“Perhaps your twin will be easier to convince,” Gaia threatened.

“Leave my family alone,” Shannon said. A determined look filled her tear-stained eyes. “But if you want me, you’ll have to catch me.” She lifted her skirt to her knees and darted toward the sea, her leather boots splashing through the marshy land.

Gaia frowned, appearing frustrated with Shannon’s unexpected obstinate behavior. With a heavy sigh, she tore after her prize. The Earth Elemental’s dark cloak trailed behind her, flapping on the breeze with each long stride.

I allowed Gaia a short lead before I left my hiding spot to follow, taking a slightly different course along the side of the hill. I hoped they consumed each other’s attention and failed to notice my movement against the rich autumnal colors. I picked up speed, my heart pounding inside my chest, searching for suitable cover to witness the last moments of their altercation. I remembered Shannon’s story about her namesake being swept into the sea for her newfound knowledge. I feared a similar outcome for the girl who should one day accept her Elemental name, Hydros.

Shannon glanced over her shoulder and quickened her pace, nearing a full sprint. She raced toward the precipitous rocky cliffs that rimmed the cold, dark waters of the Atlantic, unbroken to the horizon. Up ahead, I saw her hesitate along the cliff, just above the River Shannon’s delta—a fanning triangular mass of brackish water where the fresh water current mingled with the salt of the sea. The wind whipped the girl’s flowing brown hair in fluid waves. Her head jerked nervously from left to right. She glanced behind her, seemingly displeased with Gaia’s rapid approach.

Suddenly, Gaia stopped in her tracks, her eyes glued to Shannon’s trembling form. In her moment of distraction, I passed her unnoticed and stole ahead toward a rocky field. I ducked behind a boulder, periodically peeking out from my protective spot.

“You don’t need to do this,” Gaia shouted over the strong wind off the sea.

But Shannon didn’t respond. Instead she peered over the edge, contemplating her next move.

“You have so much potential, you must believe me,” Gaia continued in her most persuasive voice. “I can teach you to use your powers in a way you never dreamed possible.”

Shannon took another step toward the edge. Her toes curled over the side like a diver on a platform, preparing for the leap.

I gasped, realizing her intent. “She wouldn’t,” I whispered to myself, inching higher over the boulder. I craned my neck for a better view.

“Don’t take the chance,” Gaia said, coaxing her from the edge. “Come, step away and join me. I’ll show you a world you never before imagined.”

But Shannon resisted. With a fierce look at Gaia, she spat, “Never.” She looked across the sea where the surface churned, darkening beneath the patter of raindrops. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she screamed. “Cata! Help me!” Shannon folded her hands together. Her lips moved, reciting an unspoken prayer. Despair filled her face as she stood by the sea cliff, waiting.

Far below, the water began to boil. I heard a sound similar to the blow of a giant whale surfacing from a dive. My eyes instantly turned toward the ocean where a shadowy form rose from the dark depths of the frigid sea. Gasping, I fell backward onto my hands, startled by the immense size.

Water spilled off the shiny, charcoal black head and humped back of a monster easily a dozen feet in length. It swiveled its regal head proudly upon its long neck, like a graceful swan gliding across a pond. A low wake fanned behind its webbed feet. Its eyes focused on Shannon on top of the cliff, communicating with her in an unspoken language.

With a deep breath and a last, spiteful glare at Gaia, Shannon leapt off the cliff side and plummeted into the sea, tucking her appendages into a tight cannonball to protect her from the impact. Seconds after, Shannon disappeared into the dark water with a tremendous splash. I heard the serpent suck in a gulp of air before it dove, likely in search of its new meal.

I crawled to the edge of the cliff and peered through the rain for a better view. Far below, the bubbles dispersed, but Shannon didn’t return to the surface. I reached for the golden cord of the coconut husk that bore Pele’s amulet and pulled it out from beneath my shirt.

“What a waste,” I grumbled, realizing this mission was pointless. No one could survive a fall from that incredible height or escape the jaws of the beast. I hadn’t found the Hydros I defeated by the San Francisco Bay Bridge. I kicked myself for misinterpreting Pele’s directions. Now I must start over and search for Shannon’s identical twin instead—hopefully before Gaia convinced her to join the wicked cause.

I reached for the amulet to return to the Big Island so Gaia wouldn’t detect my presence here and redirected her rage upon me when I heard an unexpected noise below. Forgetting Gaia completely for a moment, I scrambled toward the edge of the cliff and peered into the dark waters below. In a tremendous splash, the serpent resurfaced with Shannon clinging to his slippery neck.

“Wow!” I breathed. My eyes bulged to the point of bursting. Maybe she was tougher than I’d thought! Secretly, I cheered for Shannon’s fortitude and skill in eluding the Earth Elemental. Gaia stood at the rim of the cliff as the tail of the serpent disappeared. I glanced back at the Cata monster’s head rising from the dark water. Shannon’s long brown hair flew freely behind her and her face beamed with pride. As suddenly as it had begun, the rain faded.

The monster dove with his rider, his body undulating into the distance until it disappeared into the inky sea. A flurry of bubbles appeared. With a great gust of exhalation, he shot a spray of mist high into the air. Amazingly, Shannon remained glued to his back, like a kid at a theme park, enjoying the ride. Water poured off her face when she turned to Gaia balanced on the edge of the cliff far above. Shannon laughed—a deep, smug laughter—flaunting her skill in evading Gaia.

Gaia’s face flushed red with fury. She ground her teeth and stooped to grab a handful of dirt. Pointing one hand in Shannon’s direction, she muttered something too low for me to hear and released the dirt, letting it scatter in the wind. Then Gaia turned on her heels, marching back toward Shannon’s crushed home. Would she wait for the twin to return? I wondered. Did she expect to have better success in converting Shannon’s sister to her cause?

I gazed across the ocean, scanning the surface for the serpentine motion of the resurfacing Cata monster. His form grew more distant, but one thing remained certain in my mind—Shannon had vanished as well.

Moments after Cata’s tail silently slipped beneath the murky water with a small splash, the faint colors of a rainbow appeared, stretching from the sea cliffs all the way to the middle of the Atlantic, touching the exact location I last saw Shannon strapped to the magnificent beast. The rippled surface of the squall line moved further out to sea and the colors of the rainbow intensified into brilliant bands arcing across the sky.

I stood to follow Gaia, but noticed she had vanished. I blinked in confusion. She was just there a second ago…how could I have lost her so quickly? I sprinted back toward Shannon’s flattened hut, my mind racing with possibilities to explain Gaia’s sudden disappearance. Yet when I returned to the landslide, the area remained vacant.

Questions crowded my mind, vying for my attention and begging for resolution. Did Shannon escape? Had Gaia set out in search of Shannon’s twin sister? Or did Gaia return to a different time altogether? I never saw her wearing an amulet similar to mine, so how did she manage to jump from one point to another? Perhaps she had already mastered the ability to use her own magic to travel across time that Pele had mentioned. Regardless, I decided I needed to know more about her powers in order to better understand my foe.

Unable to track their movements on my own, I realized I must return to Pele, hopeful she would answer some of these questions for me. I placed my hand to my chest, feeling the weight of the amulet tucked safely beneath the bodice of my woolen shirt. With a careful glance to ensure I was indeed alone, even in this desolate section of countryside, I aimed my hand at a nearby bush, already dead and devoid of leaves. A spark zoomed from my palm toward the bush, but its damp branches couldn’t hold the flame. With a frustrated sigh, I created a flame from my palm once more and tossed it into the air above me. Clutching the amulet, I wished with every ounce of my flesh and soul to return to the very spot from which I first came.

The amulet glowed brightly, transforming my ordinary flame into a burst of white fire that consumed me, rocketing me through time and space. I returned to the familiar setting of Kilauea’s fields of lava, basking under the hot midday sun and a sky of the brightest blue. I shielded my eyes, surprised by how quickly I had left the sodden skies and verdant hills of Ireland to return to this lava field, sparsely adorned with resilient ferns and red lehua blossoms. Pele stood in the same spot as when I’d left, awaiting my safe return.

“So, what did you learn?” she prompted.

I related my entire tale to Pele—from the moment Gaia introduced herself to Shannon’s monumental leap into the sea—before voicing the one question that burned foremost in my mind. “Why’d Gaia let Shannon go so easily?” I asked the goddess.

“Let her go? Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, I saw Gaia mumble something just before Shannon vanished.”

“Go on.”

“And she sprinkled a handful of dirt into the air, letting the wind catch it while she spoke.”

“Ahh,” Pele said, nodding with understanding. “Gaia used her own internal magic to manipulate Shannon’s jump to a new location of her choosing.”

“So Shannon didn’t disappear on her own accord?”

“Not at all. I believe in this circumstance that Gaia let her go, hoping to entice her more easily the next time.”

I pondered her words for a moment, thinking that maybe I hadn’t been so lucky to escape Gaia after all. Is that why she let me go the first time? She knew she’d find me again by picking my exit spot in advance, conveniently located in the unassuming town of Pompeii at the base of an active volcano. “So Gaia set me up. She knew all along…” I began aloud, without expecting a confirmation from Pele. I closed my eyes, a new sense of dread filling my soul. Poor Lucius and the townsfolk of Pompeii. I never had a chance to make it to the Oracle in Delphi. Not when Gaia had already strategically planned my future, regardless of the cost of so many innocent lives.

“So what do I do next? How can I determine her next move?” I questioned the goddess.

“I think you already know the answer to that question, child. Search your heart.”

I produced a ball of fire in my palm and rested the back of my hand against the ground. I listened with all my heart, remembering Pele’s suggestion. Closing my eyes, I searched my soul for the pulse of their hearts that inherently locked Gaia and me together. For a long time I heard nothing beyond my own heartbeat and the pulse that throbbed in my veins. But I detected a different sound, a distant, muted sound from a time and place so very far, far away. When I slowly opened my eyes, I looked at Pele, feeling torn.

“You’ve found her?” she asked.

“Yes. She’s in Atlantis,” I declared. Conflicting emotions warred across my countenance. A part of me felt proud of myself for locating her on a small island in the Mediterranean, yet the other part of me felt profound disappointment in discovering this new truth. I didn’t need Pele to say a word to grasp the realization that my training was far from complete. Meaning my call to Sully must wait a while longer…because I had to travel back in time again.