The Exiles

18. Cerulean Water

Nessa tossed uncomfortably in the back of the cart, stuck in the land in-between, a land her sight had taken her to.

The echo of Maine's laughter bounced off every particle of the mist. Loud. Maddening as he repeated, "This is my world now!"

"No, it's not!" Papa screamed countered the darkness with a scream. "It is mine. Now, Amer, undo him!"

Attin's cries pierced the air as Maine pulled at his powers again, draining him of his energy and nearly his life force.

Somewhere in the wilderness, far, far away, tucked beneath a dark blanket in Rita's hastily woven cart, Nessa tossed uncomfortably. Papa, save him. Save him. But the mist was too thick for them to hear her.

Amer, exhausted from days of effort, continued, with his heart hammering and his hands moving like lightning. He weaved another spell, trying to remember the exact movements that created Maine in the first place all those years ago when he was a wee lad. He had to reverse it, reverse the moves, reverse his weaves. But time and time again, as he tried to jog his memories, he could not get the weaves right.

And time and time again, Papa wove his weaves, intricate as they were, helped him form a loop. An infinite loop that captured a pocket of time. A loop that would not let Maine drain the essence of his child, and a loop that continued to give Amer the time he needed to undo the devil in their midst he'd birthed.

"Amer," Nessa called, through the mist, "I can help you. Just listen to me."

But Amer, too busy, too frightened, couldn't hear his sister's voice.

Attin's scream ended for the hundredth time. Amer fell to his knees once more, out of breath, out of energy, yet Papa wove, resetting the time when Maine had first touched Attin. "Again!"

"Aye, Papa!" Amer pushed to his feet again, his limbs visibly shaking, and his resolve shook with it. He did not know how much longer he could go on like this.

"Ready?" Papa asked, his eyes pleading.

Amer nodded. Though somewhere deep inside, he knew this was possibly the last attempt he had left in him. "Yes, Papa. I'm ready."

"No, you're not Amer. Let me help you! Listen to me." Nessa fought the dense fog, trying to trudge ahead to get closer to her older brother. The fog was unrelenting, stubborn. But it did not know Nessa Silvertongue, did it? She was strong-willed and not one to give up lightly. She picked up her feet, which felt like they weighed a ton, and pushed against the mist. "Hold on, Amer. I'm coming."

***

The cart hurtled across the vast land and through the dense marsh where Rita had to weave paths to allow them to cross. They moved silently in the dusk through large forests where she had to cut down trees with her weapons, and they tumbled downhill where snow and sleet made their journey harder when finally the Pan Mountains loomed ahead and she could see the mountain pass.

"Amer..." Nessa had been mumbling weakly since they left the inn. Rita wished she knew what future her daughter was seeing. Whatever it was, it had something to do with Amer, and a heaviness settled in her heart. Something told her perhaps Amer was lost to her now. Fear gripped Rita's heart, and she held onto the trinket, praying again. Please keep him safe. Keep my Amer safe.

"...hold on, Amer..." Nessa mumbled weakly as the light seeped through the seams of the night sky.

Rita turned curiously. Hold on, Amer? She couldn't figure out what Nessa could be seeing. It was then that she noticed the distance plume of dust closing in on them. She weaved a scope into her hand and spied the encroaching company. The distinct ruddy gold of Chymer's flag fluttered in the wind before she saw the men, armed and charging. They had to be at least twenty, if not more, and they were less than an hour behind.

"No, you're too early!" Rita cursed the moment they'd met Perin Under. "Why couldn't you have been less loyal? Hyah!" She pulled the reins of the tired horse harder. She'd ridden it to an inch of its life all night, but she couldn't let the poor thing rest. "Get me a little further, beasty, and I shall give you your freedom. Just a little further."

As if understanding the mother's plight, the mare galloped faster, pulling them into the narrow mountain pass, towards the clear blue mountain lake of Cerulean on the other side.

"... Amer... take my hand..." Nessa mumbled feverishly, her small hands outstretched beyond the blanket.

Rita continued to survey how quickly the Chymer soldiers were gaining ground. Their dust plume looked bigger and bigger with each glance. "Come on, come on, come on!" She tugged desperately at the reins again, the cart jostling roughly across the rocky terrain.

In time, she wove her commander's weapon in her hand. If she was going to go down, she was going to go down fighting.

Halfway through the pass, with the sun high and mighty in the sky, and the plume of dust giving away to specks of soldiers that were getting bigger and bigger — their horses not as tired as Rita's poor mare, she finally admitted defeat. There was no way to outrun them. Not in time to get Nessa into the water safely and healed.

She tucked the reins beneath her feet, pulled the trinket over her head, and looped it through Nessa's neck. She kissed her child on her hair, slick with feverish sweat, and whispered, "Nessie, I hope you can hear me. I will hold the soldiers back as long as I can, but I need you to come back. Please, come back. Get to the lake, child. Please. Get to the lake. I love you! I love you to the Earth and back!"

She kissed Nessa's head again, not entirely sure Nessa heard her. Then, with her heart in her throat, she cast the spell that would allow the trinket to hide her child. As soon as the last of the words were out of Rita's lips, Nessa vanished from sight.

Rita's heart skipped a beat. She desperately tried to seek Nessa in the cart, but her hands went through the space as if the child was all but air. The only evidence of anything hidden in the cart was the cocoon of hay beneath her sleeping form.

Behind them, the soldiers closed in. "There, I see her!" One of their cries carried in the wind. "Halt! In the name of the King. Halt!"

"Hyah!" Rita grabbed the reins again and forced the mare to go faster yet still. "Get me to that bend!" she cried as a bend loomed ahead, showing a glimpse of what she was desperate to reach. The Cerulean water of the lake, known for its healing powers. Just let me get her into the waters, that's all I ask.

The cart, on the brink of falling apart, hurtled relentlessly towards the blue waters. We are almost there, Nessie. Hold on.

"Hyah!"