Chapter 19 #2
Before I can blink, Ronan has somehow sprung from the water, his arm hooking around Pluto’s bony neck.
Inaudible curses flurry through his lips as he wrangles the blond creature, water splashing with his flailing limbs.
He falls under the surface a few times, and Pluto miraculously stays above water during the attack.
“Ronan—” I begin, but it’s clear he can’t hear me over his snarling and thrashing.
I maintain my treading and stare open-mouthed as Ronan makes attempt after poor attempt to pull the elf down under.
After a few seconds, their skirmish is over. Huffing and coughing, Ronan swims to shore and wrenches his clothes over his wet skin. He doesn’t face us, instead storming off into the woods.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
The elf shrugs, unfazed. “I’m sure he’d tell you if he wants to.
For now, let’s just say he doesn’t like me, and I’m not too fond of him either.
I can tell he’s doing his best for you, but he apparently gets offended easily, so I’d be mindful.
Now,” Pluto says, his tone turning ominous.
He stares into my eyes. “Answer me this, Prince. Can you feel the presence of the tallup?”
“ Feel ? I—I don’t know.” In an attempt to give him a better answer, I stretch my leg and wiggle my toes, hoping to touch something.
The elf shakes his head, then presses a hand to my chest. “They are magical creatures. Only those who possess magic can find them.” He drops his hand, his expression flattening. “It’s unlikely you’ll be able to lure anything, because you don’t have an eluviam . ”
My heart sinks. “I know.”
“But you can at least try. Allow me to call them once more,” he says softly. He sings his mournful song again. This time, I’m sure I know the melody. I can’t ignore it.
“What song is that?”
Pluto twitches, and his eyes are a muted orange shade. I’m still clueless as to what the colors mean, but it never ceases to fascinate me when I witness these drastic color shifts.
“A spell,” he says with an arched brow. “It removes or applies energy barriers. We often use it to find creatures that don’t wish to be seen.
It doesn’t always work. In fact, our sages often sing this to the children in our village to calm them when they have nightmares.
” He begins to search beneath us again. “Why do you ask?”
I shake my head. “I think my mother used to sing it to me when I was younger.”
“Impossible. The song is magically imbued so only elves can sing it.” His thin eyebrows descend over a concerned expression. “As far as I know, you’re the first human to understand it at all. I’ve heard it changes to each listening ear.”
There’s no doubt it’s the same song—his second rendition confirms this. Am I merely special? Or is he teasing me again?
And how did my mother know the elven tune when she had been bound to the castle as my father’s consort? Had she known an elf beforehand? Does my father know she knew the song?
“Do you sense the tallup now ?”
If I did, I’m sure I would have already. But I am untouched by magical spells and curses. Since I was little, I’ve never been interested in learning magic, as my brother had. My mother always cautioned me against using it, for it would turn me into a mage, and to her, that was a bad thing.
“No, I?—”
Before I can finish, my arms twitch at my sides, my legs go stiff, and something tugs me beneath the surface. Water fills my lungs, and my eyes remain open.
The bright surface disappears as I’m yanked to the dark depths.
I float in a stasis at the bottom of the pond, darkness and cold surrounding me. Somehow, I’m still alive, as though the water is the oxygen I need to survive. The icy embrace cocoons my body, passing through my skin, pumping my lungs with breath.
Down here, it feels like I’m in the sky. Dark and endless and frigid as death, I wonder if I’m still alive, or if some god of the forest has claimed me, as Pluto had warned.
Then, I hear a voice so familiar, my body freezes. Not from the cold, but from the shock that renders me into a stiffness I haven’t felt since…well, since the owner of the voice passed away thirteen years ago. The melody Pluto had sung moments ago rings around me, but it’s she who sings the notes.
My heart twists at how real she sounds. I must be dead, for what else could hearing my mother’s voice mean?
I search, twisting my body left and right, but the water resists my attempts, and I remain in one place.
If her spirit is here, perhaps it doesn’t wish to be seen.
Tears fill my eyes. The memory of her midnight black hair and brown-green eyes—more brilliant than mine and like true gems against her pale skin—flickers in my mind.
“Mother?” I croak.
There is no reply apart from the melancholy melody, so I become her audience while the iciness seeps deeper into my bones. I pretend there is warmth in her voice’s ghost. The song repeats, twice, thrice, and I eventually lose count.
I miss her. It’s been more than a decade since her death, and yet it feels like just yesterday she was running her thin fingers through my hair and humming whimsical lullabies in my ears, hushed as though a secret.
Our short six years together as mother and son are memories now, distant and crumbling. Few of them are as vivid as this.
“Come, young one,” a louder, masculine voice calls into the pitch.
I blink once in response, and a glowing fish appears before me. Its scales are red, but they radiate a luminescence that doesn’t make sense in this kind of darkness. I have to shield my eyes due to their brightness.
As it begins swimming away, I find myself urged to follow. Before I realize my actions, I’m already trying to keep pace with the strange creature.
Behind it, a trail of glittering dust stills in the stagnant water. When I swipe a hand through it, all of its color disappears and merges with the void. This fills me with a profound sadness, so I resolve to leave the streaks of sparkling red alone as I flap my limbs faster.
When the fish finally turns and stops, I realize it has brought me to a school of fish, all glowing shades of green, blue, red, and orange.
Their iridescent scales flash and shimmer in the gloom.
I watch in awe until the one I’d followed squeezes comfortably between my knees before swirling around my body.
Tallup. These are most definitely tallup.
A shiver shudders its way through my limbs, hot and acidic despite the sheer cold engulfing me now. Then a heat, solid and weighty, builds in my chest and pulses as though trying to match its pace with my heart.
Has it always been there? The warmth feels like it belongs, like it’s never left, and yet, the feeling is so novel.
Like the euphoria I imagine drunkards feel when they drink too much ale.
An elatedness that makes my limbs weightless, that coaxes my eyes shut with its invisible breath.
But it’s also a great discomfort, like a second stomach that has never been filled.
The dichotomy sends a sharp pain to my head and I groan.
“You may select one of us,” says the voice from before. The red fish now floats before me, its translucent fins moving in subtle motions at its sides. “It is our way to honor you.”
The fish swimming in parallel lines come to an abrupt halt at his words, displaying themselves for my choosing. Instead of triumph, I’m filled with guilt. Selecting a fish means killing one.
I don’t want to take the life of a magical fish.
Not after one had spoken to me.
“Fear not, young prince. You are more than worthy of our sacrifice. Please choose any one of us. We will happily lay down our lives for you.”
I gulp, conflicted.
How am I to choose?
The rows of fish are extravagant. All glow beautifully. The red hovering in front of me, though, swims closer, as though wishing to be chosen.
Strange.
My fingers stretch toward him, and as though obeying my silent command, he settles purposefully in my hands, his slimy body nestling against my palms. Warmth spreads from my hands to my arms, all the way into my chest. It’s as though he has shared a bit of his life source with me.
An exhilaration fills me, along with great sorrow.
The fish stares at me, now silent, before the light leaves his eyes, and he leans fully into my grasp.
Dead.
A blink later, I’m above the surface and gulping in the crisp afternoon air. Pluto’s still here, treading water. His eyebrows crease together, but he doesn’t seem to be tired from waiting. I must’ve been down there for much shorter than I thought.
“You nearly had that pissy spitfire at my throat for letting you drown, Prince.” He snarls quietly. But as soon as his frustration is out, his features soften. “Good to see you in one piece. You’d been down there for a solid minute at least.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I lift the fish from the water.
A smile tugs my lips deep into my cheeks, unstoppable.
I’m too proud. The fish’s scales glitter beneath the sun, dancing between hues of orange and red.
Though in the light, it somehow doesn’t compare to the magnificence it had in the deep of the pond, alive and animated.
His eyes widen. “Well, this is a first. Are you about to tell me you found it yourself? Or did whatever beast that pulled you under spit out its lunch for you to bring back to us?”
“Yeah.” I laugh, finding it hard to believe myself. “I followed a fish, and he let me choose from an entire school.”
“Now don’t be a fool,” Pluto coughs, “and tell me how you really stumbled upon a?—”
The elf grabs my shoulder, then pulls me closer. His hand goes to my heart, and he holds it there for an indeterminate moment before shoving me away, disgusted.
“Impossible,” he mutters, shaking his head. Strands of yellow stick to his forehead. “You’re a human. It’s impossible.”