The Gorgon's Blood Solution (15 page)

Kreewhite looked over at him, then dove underwater and communicated with the dolphins, making the whole group turn sharply left again, and a minute later they came to a stop, facing the sheer cliffs with the stony debris heaped at the bottom.  There was no cave evident.

“I meant to tell you,” Kreewhite explained.  “Right after I left you that night, there was a rumble, after I had just gotten out into the sea, and when I looked back, there was no sign of the cave.

“I came and looked again the next morning, but I couldn’t even see any sign that the cave had ever existed – it’s not that stones fell and covered the cave.  It just disappeared!” the merboy exclaimed.  “I knew it was an extraordinary cave then, and I went looking along the shore for you, but couldn’t find you, before I turned and went in search of my homeland.”

“I suppose you better take me back to the beach where we met,” Marco decided.

As they slowly made their way back to the beach, Kreewhite tried to teach Marco a few additional phrases in the language of the dolphins.  Marco dipped his face into the water and practiced the sounds, causing the swimmers to do barrel rolls and jump wildly to both laugh at his pronunciation as well as to show appreciation for his efforts.

“They say they’ve never known a drylander to learn their words,” Kreewhite explained.  “And they expect they’ll never hear one again.”

Marco recognized his cottage on the shore, and directed the others to head towards the landmark.

Albany was not to be seen when they arrived.  The sun was beginning to set, and Marco stood in the water, his face turning red in the rays of the sunlight as he and Kreewhite awkwardly prepared to part.

“I’ll miss you.  I may send the dolphins out to look for you someday if I don’t hear from you,” Kreewhite warned.  Marco felt touched; in just a few days, through the shared misery of the extreme circumstances they had been forced into, he had developed a closer sense of friendship with the merboy than he had developed with any of the human boys in the Lion City.

“I’ll call you when I have a new home.  I’ll let the dolphins know where I am,” Marco pledged.

They shared a rough hug, then Marco watched as Kreewhite and the three dolphins all swam out into the water together, and jumped straight up into the air together in a gesture of farewell.

Chapter 12 – The Escape from the Escape

Up on the shore, Marco found no evidence of Albany.  He walked up to his cottage, and started a fire in the fireplace.

“You’re really something,” he turned in surprise when he heard Albany’s voice behind him, standing in the doorway holding her sword as he tended the growing fire.

“Pardon me?” he said, warily watching her weapon.

“You’re really something, something that none of us know anything about,” she repeated.  “You show up inside the temple, you defeat our best guards, you make her ladyship take steps she’s never taken before, and now I find out you consort with mermaids.  What are you – a wizard, a changeling, one of Satan’s arch-demons?”

Marco moved away from the fire as it started to burn freely, and Albany came into the cottage, putting her sword away in her scabbard.  They sat down on the ground near one another.

“So, was that the friend you were looking for to take you away – the mermaid and the big fishes?” she asked.

Marco grabbed his sack of food.  He pulled out a lump of cheese to eat, then passed the bag to Albany.

“He’s a merboy, not a mermaid,” he absent-mindedly corrected.  “Yes, he was the friend who I hoped was going to take me away from the island, but he said he can’t – his village won’t let him bring a human – with legs – to their place.  So I guess tomorrow you’ll take me back to your village, and put me on a boat.”

“So what are you?” Albany asked again.

Marco closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the wall of the cottage.  “I’m just a boy, a lost boy,” he said with a sigh.  “I got taken from my city, and I don’t understand why all of this is happening to me.

“I’m ready to go home,” he said, “or at least go someplace that is on the way towards home – someplace where everyone won’t hate me.  I never knew it was so good to just be a regular person, until all this happened and I found out that the people who live adventurous lives have so much trouble.”

“I don’t think you’re going to qualify as a regular person, not after all of this,” Albany said wryly.  “But I hope that your future is easier for you,” she said sympathetically.  She rose and walked over to him, tousled his hair with her hand, then walked to the door.

“Get a good night’s sleep.  I’ll see you in the morning.  We don’t have to leave right away, but we won’t want to wait too long before we head back to the village, so that you can get a berth on the ship,” she told him, and then went out the door to return to her own spot for the evening.

Marco’s sleep that night was filled with the sounds of dolphins talking to him, telling him how he couldn’t come to their village because he was not ordinary enough, and he awoke in the middle of the night, relieved to no longer suffer through the dreams.  He gradually fell back into a more comfortable slumber, and slept without any problems the rest of the night.

He awoke to the sounds of the birds singing brightly outside his cottage, heralding the arrival of sunrise.  He got out of bed and walked down to the beach, where he walked among the stones and the sand and picked up random pieces of flotsam that he immediately threw back into the sea’s retreating tide.  As he turned and walked back towards the cottage, he saw Albany standing in front of his cottage.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked as he approached.  “If we leave in time to reach the village at lunch time, I’ll buy you a meal at the nicest bistro in the village,” she offered.

“You must be pretty happy to see me leave,” Marco commented, caught off-guard by the offer.

He saw Albany’s cheeks faintly color.  “No, not at all.  I understand it’s not right to have a man on the isle, but you’re not a bad boy.  You’re a good fellow, from what I’ve seen, and you’re pretty out-of-the-ordinary, to be talking with mermaids and dolphins, not to mention being found in the temple, and then there’s your swordwork.”

Marco blushed slightly as well.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell anyone about the merboy and the dolphins.  They think I’m odd enough as it is,” he commented.

“I’ll wait until you’re gone,” Albany agreed, as Marco stuffed his belongings together and picked up his sword and the alchemy book, prepared to start walking.  “But I have to let the Lady know something so extraordinary.”

They journeyed through the high grasses and low shrubs of the landscape along the dunes and cliffs overlooking the water.  Marco enjoyed the hike; he was at peace – at peace with his future that meant leaving the isle, at peace with the prospect of finding his way back to the Lion City in some fashion, at peace with his new knowledge about alchemistry.  He felt comfortable, relaxed after the days away from the hostile women of the island.

As noon approached, they reached the village, and Marco could see the tall masts of a sea-going sailing ship in the harbor, the tops of the masts rising above the buildings of the village.  “We’ll go straight to the bistro to get a table before the visitors get there,” Albany suggested, and she took the lead in their journey.

Heads turned and stared as Marco walked through town, and the interior of the half-filled bistro grew completely silent within seconds of him entering the interior of the building.

“What’s the idea, Albany?  Why are you bringing that in here?” someone asked loudly.

“The boy is leaving the isle today when the ship leaves,” she answered.  “I want to give him at least one good memory of his time here, and I thought the food here was the answer,” she spoke defiantly.

There was no response, and the women within the facility slowly began to resume their conversations and their meals, as Albany and Marco slid into the seats of a small table in a dark corner.  “Well, the food here’s likely to be warmer than the greeting,” Albany tried to laugh off the reaction of the crowd.  “They serve good fish stew, pasta with chicken and cream sauce, and mutton chops,” she informed him.

Moments later, a waitress walked up to their table.  “Well, this will go down in history as the first time I took an order from a man here,” she told them with a cheerful smile that set Marco’s mind at ease.  “What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have the fish stew and some ale,” Albany answered.

“I’ll have the pasta and some berry juice,” Marco chimed in, as Albany paid a coin on the table’s surface. 

The waitress picked it up and slid it into her pocket.  “Two orders will be out in a moment,” she assured them, then was gone.

“You won’t get in trouble for this, will you?” Marco asked.

“No, I don’t think so.  You’re on your way out at this point.  What can they say?” she shrugged her shoulders.

The food proved to be delicious.  The restaurant filled quickly as the ladies who had arrived aboard the sailing ship came in search of food, then sat and whispered about the boy on the island.  Marco shoveled his food down quickly, both because it was so tasty – the best meal he’d had in weeks – and so that they could leave the restaurant and end the pointing and talking that surrounded them.

Minutes later they were on the docks, Albany leading the way, shouldering her way against the tide of women who were still leaving the vicinity of the ship.  She pulled Marco along, and cut in front of the women who were lined up waiting to board the vessel to take their journey home.

The presence of a male with her both silenced some members of the crowd while infuriating others.  “The Lady has ordered that you give this boy safe passage to the first city you stop at and leave him there,” Albany told the first officer she saw on board.  “He’s ordered to leave the island immediately.”

“What am I going to do with him on a ship with one hundred and fifty women?” the officer asked incredulously.

“Watch him carefully,” Albany laughed.

“You have a safe journey, Marco,” she turned to her ward.  “I’m sorry we didn’t meet under better circumstances.”

“Thank you Albany, “he replied, slightly taken aback at the rapidity of their parting.  “I know you treated me fairly, and stuck up for me.”  They shook hands awkwardly, and then the guard turned and left the ship, leaving the officer to look at Marco with a scowl on her face.

“Let’s get you off the deck right now,” she barked, and took him by the arm to lead him quickly below decks to a tiny cabin.  “You stay in here; heaven knows what noble lady I’ll offend by giving her cabin to you, but we’ve got to put you somewhere for now.”  With that statement she shut the door behind herself and left Marco alone in the tiny space – he could neither stand fully erect, nor stretch his arms completely from side to side without touching the walls.

Marco spent nearly the entire following five days trapped in his tiny cabin.  The crew of the ship was entirely female, as was the complete roster of passengers who were returning from their visit to the isle of Ophiuchus.  The passengers included those who were devote pilgrims who had gone to worship, as well as those who were gravely ill, who had gone to seek healing, and finally those who were the wealthy and nobility, who had gone for the adventure.  Marco’s presence on the ship was quickly discovered, and the captain of the ship angrily discovered that she soon had to post a guard at his door in the evenings to prevent visitors from seeking to slip into his cabin, especially among the younger nobles for who the journey was more of a lark than a purpose.

On the fourth day at sea, Marco heard a flurry of indistinct shouts from the deck overhead, and after ten minutes a knock on his door was the prelude to an order for him to bring his belongings and come up topside.  When he arrived he was astonished to see that another ship, a smaller one, was floating nearby.

“Lady Iasco has sent this ship after us to take you back to the island,” his ship’s captain told him as a large crowd of crew and passengers gathered around.

“Why?” Marco asked, astonished by the command.  He didn’t relish returning to the island; he had been fervently looking forward to rejoining society where men were not subject to so much attention from women.

“The lady belatedly learned from your keeper that you have some unusual companions,” another woman spoke up, one whose face he didn’t recognize.  “And she had a dream, in which she had a vision that said you had a mark upon you, one that showed you would be a protector to her people.”

The woman unexpectedly reached forward and flipped the front of Marco’s vest outward, exposing his left shoulder.  Her finger reached forward without asking for permission to touch him, and it traced the lines that had been etched upon him after he’d finished reading the alchemy book; he’d forgotten about the event, and he looked down in surprise and anger.

The messenger’s fingers traced over the outline of a flower.  As the scratches had healed, they’d left a permanent mark on his skin – a simple flower, one with five simple petals.  “The dream said that you would have this mark upon your shoulder, a sign that you were to be the champion.  There is evil moving about the world, and a champion is needed,” the woman told Marco, and all those who stood close enough to hear.  She lifted her finger from the mark, then flipped the vest back over the mark.  “Lady Iasco’s sent me here to fetch you back to the isle for some conversations.”

Albany had told Iasco about the merboy and the dolphins, Marco realized.  And then some dream had revealed the mark upon his shoulder; he remembered clearly the words he had heard in the cave – the voice had said that he was going to be the champion.  And for those reasons, even after he had left the island, Iasco had decided to take him captive once again.

“We’re close to shore, aren’t we?” Marco futilely turned to the captain of the larger ship.  “Couldn’t you just drop me off where ever you’re going?”

“If the Lady’s asked for you?  Not in a million years,” the captain instantly responded.  “If she wants you, she can have you, and I don’t care what for.

“He’s all yours.  Take him please and be on your way, so that I can be on mine.  I’ve got a lot of passengers to disembark, and new ones to fetch,” she said, and gestured from Marco to the captain of the ship that had come to retrieve him.

He felt despair, and numb shock at the thought that he was now on his way back to Ophiuchus.  He woodenly descended down the rope and wooden ladder along the side of the passenger ship, and stepped carefully into place in the small rowboat that waited to ferry him and the leader of the retrieval mission back to the nearby ship that would carry them all back to Iasco.  The crew of six women in the rowboat immediately began to wield their oars, and the ship began the journey that would return Marco to Iasco’s control.

With a sudden, rash decision, Marco took his hands from the bag of belongings that rested between his feet.  He grabbed the gunwale beside him with both hands and stood, then suddenly flung himself over the edge and into the chilly water.  He heard a shout from the women in the boat, and then he was underwater, away from them, and being pulled downward by the weight of the sword that rested on his hip.

Marco let out a series of squeaks and chirps and clicks, the closest he could come to the remembered dolphin language call for help that Kreewhite had taught him.  He stroked his arms and kicked his legs, so that he rose to the surface and took a deep breath of air.  There were shouts from near and far, as he was spotted by both those in the rowboat and those who lined the side of the passenger vessel, watching their male companion leave them behind.