Mist on Water (11 page)

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Authors: Shea Berkley

BOOK: Mist on Water
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I thundered through the woods in a random pattern. I’d forgotten who was tracking me. I expected the darkness to defeat her. It didn’t. The moon shone bright, almost as if to point a silvery finger at my progress. I moved faster, quieter. I climbed over fallen trees and pushed through heavy brush that scratched my skin and tore at my hair.

When I finally made it to the pool, I collapsed in a gasping heap. No one knew of this place. Nari would never find me.

What a mess. What a hopeless endeavor. I’d been warned repeatedly, but I’d hoped. I’d dared to reach beyond what was acceptable. I’d wanted what could never be. I stared at the water, thinking of the nix and hating her more than ever before. “I’m never going to be done with you, am I? Even though you don’t exist, you do to everyone else, and because of that, I’ll never really be free.”

The water held no answers for me. It lapped quietly at the bank, its cool, dark waters tempting yet deceitful. As the moon lost its luster to a bevy of clouds, its light muted to a soft shimmer and the sound of Nari’s approach shattered the isolation I’d found. I wasn’t surprised, but my heart was too broken to face her.

In a moment of weakness, I almost wished the nix were real. At least then I’d have a place. A purpose. To sacrifice oneself for the entertainment of others had to be better than living with this dull, deep pain of constant ridicule.

The water stirred as the mist swirled to life and began its journey over the gentle swells toward land. I could always count on the mist to infiltrate the forest. As soon as it did, I would do the most painful thing possible, something my father could never do. I would escape. I’d leave the village for someplace new, where no one knew me or the tale of the nix.

“Hide me,” I whispered to the rising mist mournfully. Pathetically.

As if by magic, the mist rushed forward and engulfed the pool and the ground where I stood.

 

 

 

 

 

10

 

 


R

yne.” Nari’s voice held a muffled quality to it as if she pressed a wad of cotton in front of her mouth. She pushed further into the fog. “Are you here? Please, Ryne. I know you are.” A sob caught on the last word, but she continued forward. “You have to be here.”

I inched around the spot where she stood, barely making out her form in the heavy mist.

She took a step forward. “Why did you leave? Why did you let them scare you away?”

I held my tongue. It was best I melt into the forest like the myth I’d become. Over time, she’d forget all about me.

“Don’t do this,” she cried, moving dangerously close to the pool. “I love you. Only you. If I don’t care what anyone says, why do you?”

I hesitated. I fought back the words that sprang to my tongue. She didn’t know how hard life would be. People would always be staring. Always asking. Always laughing. The new wife was right. That wasn’t any way to show someone love, by subjecting them to that kind of life.

Just as I turned my back to go, I heard a sharp gasp and a loud splash. Nari had fallen into the pool. I shouldn’t have worried. She knew how to swim, but I listened for the telltale sign of her climbing free of the water.

I heard nothing. No sputter. No drip of water from drenched clothes.

“Nari?”

I moved closer to the pool, blindly feeling my way. The mist was so thick, I had to get on my hands and knees and feel my way to the edge.

“Nari?” I called louder, more forcefully. At the continued silence, my heart surged. “Nari.”

If she didn’t surface…

I couldn’t wait. I dove into the water and clawed my way to the bottom. I’d never before given a thought to how large the pool was, but now it felt never-ending as I pushed my hands out to search for Nari like a blind man would use his cane. My lungs burned, but I refused to give up. The very next moment, I found her trapped against the rocks, as if she’d been stuffed between two boulders. How had she managed it? I took hold of her face and clamped my lips to hers and blew air into her lungs. I bolted to the surface, my mind in a fog of terror, took a deep breath and dove back down. When I returned to where I’d found her, only her dress was left floating in the current. I made a quick search of the area before bolting back to the surface. When I crested, the moon had reappeared and cut a silvery beam through the mist. The play of silver light lent an eeriness to the pool, but it was the scream that sent chills down my spine.

Fear spiked through me. “Nari.” I cried, twisting this way and that as I treaded water. Where was the sound coming from? It echoed again and again, ripping into my ears and into my heart. “Nari.”

A deep rush of water pushed against me, and in the next instant, I was jerked beneath the surface, hurling toward the opposite side of the pool at an incredible speed. I curled toward the hands that held me, instinctively wanting to pry myself free, but as my hands touched my captor, I immediately knew the curve of that wrist. A quick glance up showed me Nari’s terrified face. I didn’t have time to wonder at what was going on. Our momentum suddenly slammed us into the far bank. I tried to protect her, but I wasn’t quick enough. Nari hit the solid rock, and then her head lolled to the side as her grip loosed my leg. Bubbles rushed from her mouth, and she began to sink. I grabbed her with one arm and with a powerful push, I shot us toward the surface.

I sucked in air and tenderly held Nari’s head above water as I clamored toward the bank. “Wake up, Nari,” I begged. “I need you to wake up.” I again blew air into her mouth and was quickly rewarded with her violent fit of coughing. She suddenly stiffened in my arms and began to fight me.

“It’s me. Ryne,” I shouted, and gave her a quick shake.

When she finally managed to recognize me, she burst into tears. When we reached the bank, I barely had to help her as she launched herself toward dry land. When she made it to her feet, she whirled around and shouted, “Hurry, Ryne. Get out of the water.”

Exhausted, I pulled myself free and knelt on the bank, my head drooping between my shoulders, too tired to move another inch.

Nari knelt before me in her thin, sodden shift and stiff corset. She soon began to shiver from cold and shock. Water streaked her face and her hair stuck wetly to her neck and shoulders. She raised her quaking arms and wrapped them around my neck, molding herself to my body. I held her close, still fearing she would go limp, and sickened by the thought of her near drowning. “It’s all right,” I cooed soothingly. “You’re safe now.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

I kissed her neck, her hair and the small shell of her ear and whispered fervently, “Never. I love you, and I always will.”

She hugged me tighter, whispering over and over again how much she loved me.

I rubbed her back, heating her skin with the friction of my hands and after a while, I nudged her gently away. The look in her eyes held a wildness that unsettled me and I immediately wanted to pull her close again, but I had to know. “What happened?”

“Dear God, Ryne.” The shock of her voice matched that of her face. “She’s real.”

“Who is real?”

Her full lips thinned with alarm. “Your father was right. The tale is true.”

I shook my head. “No. Listen to what are you saying.” There had to be another explanation.

She took my head in her hands and forced me to look at her. “The nix is real.”

The truth in her deep blue gaze scared me more than I was willing to admit.

Yet, when I opened my mouth to deny what she claimed, a pair of arms shot out from behind me and snatched me back into the pool.

The water rushed over me as Nari fell to the bank, screaming. Her arms stretched out toward where I had disappeared, her face wreathed in horror as I was pulled deeper into the water and out of sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11

 

 

I
am the nix. I have been since the beginning, placed here by an unseen hand to tend to this lake and protect it from harm. I take what I need, surviving off the generous portions given into my care. For many, many years, in which time did not matter, the lake flourished, and I was happy living in my crystal clear, underwater playground. Not once did I wish for what I could not have. The decree that I stay in the lake and never leave was not a hardship, for I loved my world.

Then man came.

The unseen hand placed him on my shore, and I grew curious. Hiding in the thick forests of cattails and yellow iris, amid a thin wisp of mist, I watched. The man was told to tend to the earth. Day after day he toiled, back bent under the strain as sweat glistened on his skin–skin that barely changed colors. His was either pale peach in the cool morning or bright pink in the hot sun. He didn’t have the array of brilliant hues I had to choose from. Even so, there was something appealing about him. Pity washed over me like the tug of the tide. It pulled ever stronger at my heart. He worked so hard for the little he harvested. Surely there was something I could do?

One day, when the man drew near the water to cleanse his hands, I acted on impulse. With a flick of my body, I gathered a small school of fish and drove them toward shore. As the wave grew, the man stood and backed away. Just when the man was about to turn and run, the wave crashed, and to his delight, fish flew from the lake and landed far ashore, flopping and flipping as they gasped in vain at the receding waters. The loss of life was great, but my love for the man had grown greater.

Far offshore, I poked my head from the water, eager to see if the man would accept my gift. Long moments passed as he surveyed the dying fish. He appeared confused, even disturbed by the unsolicited gift. Had I thought wrong? Did man not eat what nourished me? My fears were soon laid to rest as he quickly scooped up the fish and built a fire. What he did not eat, he smoked and packed away for a future meal.

The man grew healthy and strong under my care. I continued to sacrifice the fish whenever I saw him gaze longingly into the lake. But my gift was not enough. I wished to touch this man. To speak with him as others did. Yet bound by water, I could do nothing. Then one day as the mist hung close, I lingered near the shore and hid amid the tree roots, watching him, longing for him…

He saw me. It was the briefest glimpse, but that was all it took. In a panic, I dove beneath the water.

As if in a dream, he came after me, flailing against the crests, shouting for me to come back. I glanced over my shoulder. Should I? It was my heart’s desire, but was it wise? I had watched him for so long…tended to his needs with a lover’s care. Could he feel the same for me?

I turned toward shore. He had made it beyond the shallows. I giggled as I watched his graceless swim. Did he think to find me up there? As if reading my mind, he sank beneath the waves, and down toward me, his limbs still batting erratically at the water. I waited, circling below him. In my excitement, my skin flashed from blue to yellow to a burnt red. It had begun the change to purple when he reached me. I circled around to face him, a smile of welcome on my face and came up short. He did not look as I expected. His cheeks were ruby red and puffed; his eyes bulging. As soon as he saw me, air rushed from his mouth in a gurgle of panic, and his thrashing grew even more volatile.

He could not breathe. He would die. I immediately clasped my arms around his chest and pulled him to the surface. It wasn’t enough. He had grown limp. A being of the land, he could not stay in the water. I had to get him to shore, yet I could not leave the water. A thought grew and crystallized. Closing my eyes, I called forth a heavy mist–so heavy that it shrouded the woods.

With the moisture rising thickly from the lake, I carried him to shore and laid him on his side in the gentle surge of water and foam, careful to keep my own feet planted firmly in the lake.

Water bubbled from his mouth as he sought air. With a twist of his body, he spat, and when he had expelled all the water from his lungs, he turned toward me. Unsure and with a hint of disbelief, he stared, his eyes a clear blue, like the edges of my lake on a new spring day.

I had matched my skin tone to his–a beautiful dusty rose. Regretfully, I had no control over my hair. It dried quickly in the air, and with a self-conscious nudge, I pushed the bulk of it behind my back where it tumbled past my hips like a lustrous blue black wave.

“Who are you?” he asked, his gaze roaming my form from head to toe.

Could he not guess? I smiled and dropped to my knees beside him. He startled as I touched his skin along his jaw. “Warm,” I murmured, “like the water near the surface.” My fingers swept up his temple to his hair. “Soft, like the fins of angelfish.”

As I continued to touch his neck and then his clothes, exploring as much of him as I dared, his skin turned a mottle pink and blue, and he began to shiver.

So his skin could change to more than two colors. I again matched my skin tone to his...though not as beautiful as the rosy hue. I only wanted to please him. When my fingers traced back up to his temple, I noticed how dry my skin had become. The mist was not heavy enough. I had to return to the lake. But not before I satisfied my longing.

I bent forward, hovering a hairsbreadth from him, drinking in every detail of his face before I bestowed on him a kiss. He immediately stopped shivering. When I pulled away, my blood sang a song of longing to him, and his lips clung to mine.

“No. Don’t go,” he breathed sweetly.

His skin was again the dusty rose I admired so much. I smiled and backed away.

“Will you come again? Say you will. You must.”

I nodded. And with that silent promise, I slipped into the waves, and swam back to my home, rapture making my bones join my new song.

I came to him in the mist, again and again. I found it was much easier to conjure it at night when the sun did not fight my magic. We rarely talked, but when we did, he seemed perplexed, even irritated.

His hands tightened on my shoulders. “Let me come to you tomorrow. Let me meet your family.”

“You cannot.”

My denial wasn’t meant to be cruel, though it seemed to hurt him. I touched his face. “I have no family.”

His countenance lifted. “Then you must live with me.”

I shook my head.

His smile faltered. He took in my form, and then my feet which I kept firmly planted in the surf. He frowned. Hesitated. His hands shook ever-so-slightly before he peered intently into my eyes. “If you won’t come with me, at least let me show you where I live. It lies just beyond the woods in a tiny glen…”

He made to draw me forward and out of the water, but I slipped back, breaking free. “I cannot.”

The water was my life. If I stepped free, I would die.

As I backed away, he followed me, wading into the lake as doubt clouded his eyes. “I don’t understand. I can’t go with you and you can’t come with me. Why?”

I placed my finger against his lips, their silky softness entranced me. I was content to kiss and love the night away. Why was not he? I found that whenever questions came to his lips, it was easier to replace them with kisses. I drew closer until my mouth met his. A song rose from my body that promised his heart’s desire. I wove the magic tune about him until he clutched me to him; his arms wrapped tightly within my silky hair that he admired so much. No more questions for this night, only declarations of love and the promise of a life together. Forever.

I felt as he did. Being near him compared to no other moment. The loneliness that had existed before, which I never understood, vanished. A fervent hope that our time would never end surrounded my heart.

Then the unimaginable happened. I began to change.

My belly swelled. Embarrassed, I stayed far out in the lake, out of his sight, but he not out of mine. As the seasons changed, I listened to my love’s mournful cries. His face grew streaked with tears, a phenomenon as disturbing to witness as it was fascinating. Yet, no matter how desperately he called, I would not come to him. He threatened to swim to me, but even those threats faded with time to be replaced by cold silence. No longer did he look longingly out at the water. A hardness had settled over his features that made me shiver. Winter came in vengeful flurries, and eventually he stopped coming to the edge of the lake, and I stopped visiting the surface. If I were to pass from this life, I did not want him to suffer my anguish. It was best I suffer alone.

The months of my forced solitude grew. Summer had grown ripe and the waters warm when the day came that I thought I would die. I swam into an underwater cavern set deep into the rocks and emerged from the pool of water. The cavern, with its slick walls and wet floors, was the only place where I could stand on my feet in my underwater world. A tall, overhead shaft let in a dim sliver of moonlight, revealing the two halves of the cavern. One side housed a small area just big enough to lie on, while the other side had a larger bit of land where I could sit or pace or do whatever my mood warranted. It was also where I kept my treasure—baubles and bangles and all manner of things that pleased my eye. As I made my way to the smaller shelf, the ray of moonlight caused the mica in the walls to sparkle.

The night had grown thick, and the rocks glittered like tiny stars as I crawled onto the worn rock shelf. The area gently slanted away from the water, its shape deep and long enough to cradle my body. I wrapped my arms around my distended stomach and curled my knees to my chest. I was ready to die. I had lived and loved and protected the lake. My only regret was leaving the lake unguarded. I refused to think of the man. It hurt too much.

As the pains grew, one thought comforted me. I could find no more beautiful place to take my last breath than in this small glittering world.

Instead of death, a miracle happened. A small being emerged from my body. Intense flashes of color swept her pearlized skin, but her bronze-colored hair stayed the same. I had never thought to see something so small that looked like me. Eternal love grew between us with every breath she took, and every sigh I breathed.

I stayed on the rocks for three days, suffering the pains of the air for my newborn daughter. On the fourth day, I knew it was time to take her into the water.

I slipped into the pool, my skin drinking in its nutrients. Turning, I eased my daughter into the water and held her tightly to my side. Her squeal of delight rang within the cavern, and I laughed along with her. We bobbed beneath the surface and quickly out again. Her skin plumped and her energy tripled. Her arms and legs moved as if she would swim away and explore the lake on her own. Visions of us swimming together as I showed her our world caused my heart to take flight. My daughter was a child of the lake, just like me. Without a second thought, I plunged us into the dark waters of the cavern. My pupils dilated, glowing brightly to illuminate the dark waters. I began to make our way out of the cavern when I glanced at her. A sense of alarm pinched at my nerves. My baby began to gurgle, just like her father had all those months ago. Horror struck. She needed air. I raced back into the cavern, and when I crested, her loud crying echoed against the rocks.

As the moon poured down its silvery light and cast sparkling reflections on my baby’s skin, I realized she was not like me.

She was like her father.

The next few months became a daily test for her survival. I found that though she loved the water, her skin would pucker if she stayed in the lake for more than three days. Yet, if she stayed out of the lake for more than a week, her skin would crack and peel, and I had little doubt she would eventually wither into dust. As my daughter grew, the cavern no longer became a haven. Although she longed to swim, she was unable to do so without my help, and leaving a curious child on a thin ledge became problematic. It was only a matter of time before she fell in and drowned when I was forced to leave her to hunt for food.

It was then I learned to capture air. I formed a bubble for her and we explored as much of the lake as we dared. Yet in the back of my mind, I knew something wasn’t right. She needed more than a rocky ledge to call home.

My decision made, I gathered a large bubble of air and we headed for the surface. Her first sight of the sun, of birds and clouds and the expanse of forest was almost as exciting as her first taste of water. It was my first taste of doubt. If the lake gave her life, the sun gave her power. Her strength increased, her eyes sparkled. I knew if we returned to the cavern, she would wilt away. How could I ever care for this child?

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