A Lonely Magic (11 page)

Luke paused. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I’ll wait here while you go Google it.”

Luke paused again. “I am afraid that might—”

“Kidding,” Fen interrupted him. “I have no idea how long I can hold my breath and I don’t want to find out. How come you’re not the kind of alien with matter transporters? Beam me up, Scotty, would be way better than this.”

“I’ve told you before—”

“I know, I know,” Fen interrupted again. “Not an alien.” She rested her head against his. “We have to go down, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why is your ship underwater?” She sounded plaintive even to her own ears, but she felt that way. What would happen if she couldn’t hold her breath for long enough? The water didn’t seem inclined to pull her under the way she’d always imagined it would. Luke was barely moving and they were still floating on the surface. Maybe she could just stay here, drifting forever.

Of course forever would only last as long as it took for a shark to find her and eat her. She glanced at the surrounding ocean, searching for a telltale grey fin.

“It’s not a ship.” Luke put his hands over hers where she’d linked them on his chest and tugged them away until he could turn in the circle of her arms without letting her go. He wound up positioned as if they were slow dancing, their bodies pressed together, her arms around his neck, faces only a few inches apart.

“Hold your breath,” Luke said. “For as long as you can.”

Fen rolled her eyes but obediently took a deep breath and held it. The seconds ticked away, one after another, tick, tick, tick, until her chest started to feel tight and her throat closed. Her cheeks tingled and her eyes opened wider.

“Breathe out through your nose,” Luke said.

Fen rolled her eyes again, but tried to slowly exhale, her eyelids dropping as she fought not to inhale. And then her eyes flew open.

Luke’s lips, warm and strong, pressed against hers. She tried to pull away but his hand slid up the back of her head and held her still. And she needed to breathe. Without conscious volition, she unlinked her fingers and let her hands slide around to push against his shoulders as she inhaled. Through her nose.

Immediately, Luke pulled away, letting his hand drop. “No,” he ordered. “You must take your oxygen from my lungs. Hold your nose closed if you must.”

“What the fuck.” She spluttered.

“Try again,” Luke said. “Hold your breath.”

“That’s never going to work,” Fen protested. He was demented. Completely insane. What would he breathe if he gave his oxygen to her?

“It will,” he said confidently. “Even carrying you, it’ll only be about five minutes underwater. That’s nothing.”

Nothing? Nothing? Fen might not know how long she could hold her breath but she sure as hell knew it wasn’t anywhere near five minutes.

“But you can’t let go of me,” he continued. “I need to be able to swim fast. I can’t hold you.”

Fen stared at him. This was the stupidest idea ever. Like ever. Like ever squared, to the tenth, to the umpteenth ever. He was insane.

“Let me breathe for you, Fen,” he said, running his hand up her arm and cupping the back of her neck. “It’s the only way.”

Holy shit.

Fen didn’t think it was oxygen deprivation that made her voice shake and her knees feel weak when she said, “Are you sure?”

Was she truly considering putting her life into the hands of this boy she’d only met a few days ago?

This boy who’d already saved her life once.

This boy who already had her life in his hands, given that they were in the middle of a fucking ocean and she didn’t know how to swim.

This boy who was here because of her.

Her eyes dropped to his chest. The scar from the bullet was underwater, hard to see, but she knew it was ridiculously small, unreasonably healed, and yet a glaring pink reminder of how they’d met.

“I know no other way.” He touched his forehead to hers. “If I had an easier choice for you, I would make it.”

Fen drew in a deep, gasping breath. Would it be her last?

She exhaled.

Nope, not that time.

“Okay. How do we do this?”

Legs wrapped tight around Luke’s waist, arms locked around his neck, Fen closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

With barely a splash, Luke dived and they were under. Fen could feel the water moving against her skin, the fabric of her dress clinging and shifting, but mostly she felt Luke, warm and strong and solid.

One heartbeat. Two. Three.

She tried not to think, not to calculate, not to count.

But the pressure grew, the sense of constriction on her chest and throat. Her eyes opened, closed, opened again. Having them open underwater felt horrible at first—her eyeballs stung from the salt—but within seconds the pain disappeared. She couldn’t see as well as she could in the air, but she could see Luke.

He wasn’t watching her. His eyes were forward, intent on the destination that only he knew. But she was running out of oxygen, her chest burning, and she let the bubbles of carbon dioxide escape from her nose. Without pause, without hesitation, Luke turned his head enough to take her lips. She opened her mouth to him and he breathed out, forcing air into her lungs.

Fen closed her eyes again. Luke hadn’t stopped moving, still stroking forward, and she turned her head into his neck, hiding her face as she held her breath.

The math made no sense to her. Shouldn’t he be breathing out carbon dioxide, too? Shouldn’t she be suffocating on the air from his lungs? But he’d promised her five minutes was nothing, he’d have plenty of oxygen for both of them and what choice had she had?

Still, it was way weird to cling to him like a monkey, knowing he was taking her farther and farther underwater, that already it might be too late for her to save herself by breaking away and pushing up, up, up, toward the air that was her environment.

It was always too late, the critical part of her brain told her. Beginning to end, too late. But she didn’t have the oxygen available to have a panic attack about it, so she turned her head and let Luke breathe into her lungs again.

She kept her eyes open this time, caught by his profile. How old was he? She’d guessed sixteen before, maybe seventeen. He was taller than her, but that didn’t mean anything, everyone was. Clear skin, rounded cheeks, no stubble—high school, he couldn’t be older than that.

But he’d risked his life for her.

He took it for granted, risking his life for her.

“I could do no less.”

The words rang in her memory. That’s what he’d said.

What sort of troubled world created that kind of guy?

Back when she’d been sixteen, the guys she knew had mostly been idiots. Okay, situational issue: not too many kids actually knew how to handle a bereaved orphan, reeling with grief and madly self-destructive. The kids she’d known in Zion, they’d been nice kids. Nice and completely incapable of understanding where she was coming from, what was happening in her life. Two parents, one sibling, a pet, and a house in the suburbs could do that to you.

The pressure in her chest was building again but she was also feeling sleepy.

Huh.

That was probably a bad sign.

She let the air escape through her nostrils and turned her head again, lazily this time.

When Luke’s mouth took hers, she kissed him. Why not, after all?

She let her lips move against his, let her tongue tease. He didn’t let go of her mouth this time, didn’t force air into her lungs. He kissed her and kept kissing her, and she kissed him back, her arms tight around his neck until they loosened and she let her hands stroke down his sides.

Muscles.

He did have muscles, this boy. Not so obvious, but definitely there. Not like… someone. Who was it that had a perfect body?

Fen couldn’t remember, didn’t care.

Something was happening. Did she mind? Did it matter?

Her legs were dropping. That was wrong. And there was something, something she should do.

Or not do.

Not…

Fen breathed and it was air, not water.

She dragged in a gasping breath. Two, three, four, five—all she wanted to do was lie on the floor and breathe, breathe, breathe, grateful that she could.

She opened her eyes.

It was dark.

No, it was beyond dark. It was darker than dark. It was a blackness so absolute it made every dark Fen had ever experienced seem radiant with light in comparison.

“This better not be what dead is like,” Fen said.

Wonderland

“One moment,” Luke said.

Slowly, the floor started to glow. Fen sat up, fascinated, as the light spread outward from Luke’s hands, streaking across the floor and up the walls until it enveloped them. “Okay, that is cool.”

“Come.” Luke jumped to his feet. “We must fly. We need to get to my mother’s house and quickly.”

“Your mom’s house?” Fen looked down at her sopping dress and imagined meeting Luke and Kaio’s mother. If she was like Gaelith, okay. But if she was like Kaio… “Um, how about I just wait here?”

Luke grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the featureless wall. “We must hurry. Eladio does not have enough men to hold the island if the Val Kyr determine to kill, but reinforcements might dissuade them. Or at the least, avenge my cousin.”

“Wait, Eladio’s your cousin?”

The wall in front of them swirled and turned foggy. Luke didn’t wait for the fog to clear, pushing straight through it.

“One of them, yes. I told you I have many.” Luke tossed the words over his shoulder as Fen followed him through the fog. The short hallway ahead of them lit up like the room, only faster, light spreading out before them. Fen wanted to ask more questions but before she could, they passed through another foggy wall and her feet stopped moving.

Luke pulled at her arm. Fen pulled back.

She wasn’t breathing, she realized in a back part of her brain. Probably she should start doing that again.

“What is this?” They stood on a wide ledge, high above a city unlike anything she’d ever seen, a surreal mélange of colors and lights and life.

Under an early evening sky sprinkled with pale stars, water flowed everywhere, falls splashing down, fountains shooting up and out, pools full and serene, streams running from one to the next. Buildings flowed, too, climbing out of the ground as if they’d grown, their lines fluid, their curves sweeping, their towers and turrets stretching toward the sky. Arched walkways of lacy copper and silver connected them, crisscrossing through the air, covered with sparkling lights strung in delicate lines, in colors more vivid than rainbows. Plants flourished in every nook and cranny, ivy crawling up the sides of buildings, trees and flowers growing on roofs, in corners, on balconies and ledges.

Luke whistled, short and sharp, two fingers in his mouth.

“You’re an elf,” Fen said, accusation in her voice.

“A what?” He laughed without looking at her, his eyes searching the sky.

“This is faerie land. This is… this is where the elves live. You’re not an alien, you’re an elf.”

“I’m not an elf.” Luke waved, one arm up and crossing his entire body, a wide gesture meant to be spotted. “That’s ridiculous.”

Fen breathed.

Air out, air in.

It felt harder than it should.

The ledge glowed with the same light as the hallway they’d left behind. Next to them, stone stairs clung to the wall, leading down and out of sight. Fen touched a tentative foot to the first step while Luke scanned the sky. The step lit up.

“All right,” she said. “Okay. Not elves. Atlantis. That’s cool. I get that. This is Atlantis.”

“Don’t be silly.” Something was approaching in the sky, something that started dark and small but was getting increasingly bigger.

“Not Atlantis?”

“Of course not,” Luke said. The object was close enough now that Fen could see it. It was a glider.

A gigantic kite, with colorful wings and dangling leather bits.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. What did Luke think they were going to do with that?

“Lan Tis is at least three thousand miles away. It’s nowhere near here.” Luke said, as he leaped up and caught the straps hanging from the glider. “Come,” he said, holding it steady. “We must fly.”

“This is… no, no, no. That is a very bad idea. Bad. Bad.” Fen knew she was stuttering. She didn’t care.

The city was big and they were far above it. Down was a long way down. Like a long way. And it wasn’t the ocean, where okay, down was down, but cushioned by water. She’d already chosen to take the plunge into likely death once today—she wasn’t interested in giving it a second shot at her.

“They’re meant to be solo gliders,” Luke said, holding the kite above him as if it were a frisky dog on a leash. “But we don’t have time for me to teach you how to use one, so we’ll need to use it together.”

“Bad.” Fen repeated. It was the only word left in her vocabulary. “Bad idea.”

Luke’s voice was firm as he said, “Eladio needs us.”

“I’ll wait here,” Fen tried, but Luke ignored her. He pulled the glider closer and brought the harness to Fen, briskly wrapping it around her, stuffing her unresisting arms through the holes, and shifting it on her shoulders until it satisfied him. He sealed the straps in front by squeezing them together as if they were Velcro.