Sprite (Annabelle's Story Part One) (12 page)

To get into the fourth, fifth, sixth, and all the other possible ways things could go wrong wasn’t worth it. Just the thought turned my stomach upside down.

Of course, this all assumed I’d have the ability to open the chest. My thoughts from earlier flooded back, and now that my water affinity matured, the notion that perhaps I was important to this mission lurked on the outskirts of my mind. However, I still wasn’t convinced that I was the only one who could do it.

Right when my mind threatened to explode from various travel routes, diagrams, and attack formations, we landed on our final plan.

The straightforward nature of it surprised me but I didn’t complain. The less moving parts our plan had, the fewer things that could go wrong.

Meaning, the less I’d mess up.

To keep the plan simple, the Elders assigned only a few sprites to our mission. Just Adrian, Natasha, Clemente, Shamus, and possibly myself would set off together.

Out of the five of us, two groups were formed. Adrian and I’d stick together. Then, Natasha, Clemente, and Shamus would create a semi-circle around us about a quarter of a mile away, which was well outside of our bubble of light. That way, if we needed them, they’d be at our sides in under a minute. If not, we wouldn’t attract attention as a large group.

We expected the trip to the chest itself to be fast. It was located in the Atlantic Ocean in between Portugal and the United States, off the coast of the Graciosa Island. What made it easy was the fact that the same jet stream we took from Atlantic City to Tritonis brought us rather close to the island. From there, only a matter of minutes separated us from the sunken chest.

We debated not taking the jet stream as far and swimming a greater distance, but we eventually decided against it. It’d be just as dangerous. Plus, with this approach, we’d preserve our much-needed energy.

The plan consisted of moving within fifty yards of the chest. Then, Natasha and Shamus would slowly approach it. The idea was to trick the Trackers into believing that Natasha was me. Shamus would shield the chest from the view of any lurking Trackers while Natasha pretended to open it. The only thing left to do at that point was to sit back and wait to see if an attack was imminent.

Naturally, I hoped we’d beat the Trackers there and, after the coast was clear, I’d retrieve the coins. If all went according to plan, we’d crack open the chest before dinner.

Unfortunately, the chances of this were slim to none. So, if an ambush occurred, Adrian and I were told to slip in unnoticed to grab the coins.

Like I said, the plan was straightforward. Still, there were parts I disliked. I hated the idea of Natasha as bait. She wasn’t even in the room to weigh in on her role as a decoy.

It was an argument I presented⎯one that was shot down just as quickly. I knew it was a bad argument too. Natasha jumped at any chance to restore her family name.

I guess we’d have to wait to see how things played out. If everything went seamlessly, we’d find the flower, plant it at the trapdoor at the Lake of Elfin, and retrieve the shell from beneath the island.

Sounded easy,
right?

CHAPTER TWENTY

Once all the pieces were in place, YaYa insisted that we clear our heads and try to relax. We’d be leaving at the first sign of light. She even suggested we stop by the theater to catch tonight’s performance. I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at her insistence. Apparently, the sprites of Tritonis would perform
The Second Beginning
.

As the title suggested, it was a play based on the prophecy of ABA.

I learned that it wasn’t just a play that the Triton’s held tonight. Every year around this time they’d put it on. It became somewhat of a tradition.

Before today, I never had a reason to think about it, but so many holidays, events, and activities are shaped around the history of a group of people. In the United States alone, there’re days like Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July. Worldwide, activities like Easter egg hunts and trick or treating are performed.

In Tritonis, the prophecy influenced not only activities, like
The Second Beginning
, but professions too.

Generation after generation of Guardians searched for the sunken chest. After finding it, these roles of exploration became those of protection of the chest. Then there were some who scouted out the “Second Alpha.”

As soon as the play began, I learned that the prophecy also shaped New Year’s Day. But for the sprites, it was a day of mourning. Every year, it acted as a reminder that the benevolent sprites still hadn’t retrieved Triton’s shell.

To show this, the merfolk draped in black moved slowly across the stage: both eerie and sad.

Then in a snap, the merfolk tore off their black costumes exposing the silly, floral outfits that the encantado wore in their human forms.

This part was somewhat comical. The exaggeration of the actors showed them as they peeked around corners and hid behind props on stage, trying to avoid detection.

In the center of it all, a teenage boy went about his business—none the wiser.

Suddenly, the “encantado” showed emotions of excitement, waving their arms and making eye contact with one another. Clearly, they believed this boy to be the “Second Alpha.”

The next scene depicted one “encantado” and the boy hanging out together in the midst of a conversation speckled with outbursts of silent laughter. In that moment, it dawned on me that the play had no sound or words.

The “encantado” then distanced himself from the boy and waved for him to follow. Together they moved away from the grassy side of the stage and towards the other. There he grabbed the boy and pushed him down against the sand.

The boy struggled and grabbed his throat.

Then, ready for this? When the boy realized he breathed the water, his face lit up with happiness.

I recalled how this portion of the play went a tad bit different in real life. I wasn’t lured peacefully to the sea. I didn’t jump for joy when I realized I breathed water. In fact, I had little time to react before the Trackers started their game of tug-of-war with me. Then it was off to the races to safety.

I experienced a more dramatic introduction to this ability. Whereas here, the boy and the encantado, that a real encantado now played instead of a brightly clothed merfolk, casually swam across the stage side by side. They looked chummy as ever when the curtain fell, marking the intermission.

I shot Adrian a look that screamed, “Righttt.”

“Yeah, I imagine you’re thinking that things went a little differently for you.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“You could say it’s been fantasized throughout the years. Besides, there are little merfolk here.”

“Well, clearly I like this version better.”

“I can see why,” Adrian laughed.

The second half of the play began in a way that I also wouldn’t mind occurring in real life. The boy and the encantado swam back and forth and all around the stage. The whole time, the sunken chest sat in the middle waiting for them.

After a few minutes, the little merfolk in the audience couldn’t contain themselves. Their high-pitched voices called out and teased that the chest was “right there!”

Acting surprised and excited, the actors swam toward it. The boy stretched his arms and prepared to open the chest; a build up the audience loved. Meanwhile, the encantado pushed at the lid with his nose, proving that the chest couldn’t be opened.

When the boy finally approached the chest, he put his hands on it, turning his head toward us. The crowd erupted. Ever so slowly, he pushed at the chest, opening the lid.

Now, we all fell silent. As I looked around, the hopefulness of the merfolk in theater hit me. I wondered if every year these same expressions crossed their faces. Or was this year different because the person who they thought could be the “Second Alpha” sat amongst them?

It wasn’t something I wanted to think about. The underlining pressure of what that meant was too much for me to deal with right now.

Instead, I turned my attention back to the play. There, the boy held up the coin for everyone to see. It was oversized, for dramatic effect, I suppose, and across the coin in big black letters it read: FLOWER.

So much for the coin revealing a hint as to the type of flower on it. Although, if we knew that, there wouldn’t be a need to ever open the chest.

After the boy proudly displayed the coin to the crowd, the encantado and him swam offstage together. The curtain fell once again to allow for a change in scene.

Moments later, the curtains raised to showcase the setting of the Lake of Elfin. It was a grassy area with a trapdoor at the far left side of the stage. Conveniently, in the middle of the stage, a single stemmed rose demanded attention, acting as, I’m sure, a tease to the actual flower that opened the trapdoor.

The boy and the “encantado,” that a merfolk dressed in bright floral clothing once again played, entered from stage right. They hesitated for a mere moment to dramatically peer toward the left and right before they spotted the rose. Dashing forward, the boy grabbed it and held it proudly out in front of himself.

While doing so, the “encantado” pointed to his wrist. A worried expression stretched across his face. The boy needed to plant the flower and get inside before New Year’s Day was over. Otherwise, another year would need to pass before opening the trapdoor.

Realizing he didn’t have much time, the boy launched himself forward. Quickly, he dug a hole, before slowing his movements to plant the rose.

Every merfolk in the theater held their breath even though they’d seen the play time and time again.

Then a clicking noise cut through the silence; the only sound thus far in the play. The door was no longer locked.

With that, the boy yanked it open, and then faced the “encantado” to wrap him in an embrace. At first, I didn’t understand the hug goodbye, but then I remembered the lake was fresh water, his saltwater friend couldn’t join him. Only the water fairies, and I supposed the “Second Alpha,” had the ability to breathe fresh water.

After their goodbyes, the boy turned and jumped inside the trapdoor.

That was when the Trackers crept on stage. My body rocked upright within my seat. The crowd murmured at the “encantado” who waited helplessly by himself. He had nowhere to go and looked frantically back and forth at the approaching Trackers.

With each second, the malevolent sprites crept closer until they completely surrounded him. It took no time at all before he disappeared beneath their attacking bodies. The littler merfolk in the audience gasped. A few turned their heads into their mothers’ shoulders.  In Tritonis, the Trackers were definitely something to be feared.

Finally came the happy ending. The boy emerged from the trapdoor in a flash, much to the appreciation of the theater. Once back on land, he held the shell to his mouth and blew. A roaring sound shook the theater, startling my ears. On stage, the Trackers stumbled backwards flailing their arms and legs until they disappeared from our view.

When the foghorn-like sound finally ended, hoots, hollers, and applause from the crowd erupted.

I cheered as well, with a big smile plastered across my face.

I knew it was just a play, make-believe, but I couldn’t help but wish our mission went as smoothly. Sure, the Trackers attacked at the end, but the boy saved the day with a single blow of the conch shell.

As the cheers dimmed, the faces in the crowd consumed me. I felt their hopes and dreams resting on my shoulders. A few merpeople even watched my reaction to the play’s ending.

In that moment, I knew I had little choice but to accept this mission. I owed it to the people of Tritonis. Hell, I owed it to myself to attempt to be the person all these merfolk thought I was.

“Hey, you okay?” Adrian said, placing his hand on my arm.

“Um, yeah, just tired. Perhaps we should get to bed. You know, big day tomorrow.”

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

I tried to keep my response casual. “Yes, Adrian. I’m going.” Now that I’d made up my mind, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. That’d only make me more nervous.

“I knew you would. It’s just the type of half-human, half-sprite you are,” he said. I couldn’t help but smile at the use of my weird hybrid names.

Once outside, Adrian added, “We’re going to be okay.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I don’t, but I have faith in us, and in you.”

“Well thanks,” I said, my nerves easing up a little. “So, there’s something I noticed before about the play.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, there wasn’t a prince who saved the boy from the Trackers. Nor was there a prince who journeyed to find the coins and retrieve the shell.” I paused, letting the anticipation build. “I guess his grandmother said he couldn’t go.”

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he smirked, playfully jabbing my side. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I knew I sounded like a broken record, but I didn’t sleep well that night. Being around Adrian calmed me down after the play, but once in my bed, my fingers scrunched then smoothed my bedspread repeatedly.

This wasn’t a feat similar to heading off to college in the fall. There, my biggest worry would be final exams and hangovers.

Instead, it was a mission that could very well kill me, or worse, kill the people I’ve grown to care about from Tritonis.

Plus, I had three days of training. That was it. Three days to prepare for the most monumental thing in my life thus far.

Yes, my water affinity gave me confidence earlier, but now that we’d be leaving in just a few hours, I wasn’t sure how helpful I’d actually be. I needed more time to train. Although, even if I’d trained my entire life, I lacked confidence that I’d ever be ready to face whatever was to come.

As I climbed out of bed, I stretched my arms. Stiffness plagued my body from the last few days. It also didn’t help that I tossed and turned all night.