16.Landslides

16. Landslides

Not a bad way to wake up. A pair of strong arms are wrapped around me, and I can feel Samson's legs tangling against my own.

The scratchy makeshift bedding and the hard surface underneath remind me where I am. I'd almost think it was a dream, being back in the bay, but I can hear the gentle waves of the morning tide and smell the saltwater in the air.

As I blink my eyes open, I see Samson is already awake. Nestled together in the improvised bed we fashioned from netting and cave moss, he looks as content as I feel. Despite the crude bedding, I got a surprisingly good night’s sleep with him next to me.

"Morning," I murmur, my voice still thick with sleep.

"Mornin'," he mumbles back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't apologize. This is an excellent way to wake up." Warm and in his arms.

My fingers trace the curve of his jaw, rough with the promise of a beard. He adjusts the arm draped over me, his thumb gently caressing my forearm as we enjoy the calm of the early morning, simply lying together in the quiet. A nymph could get used to this.

It takes me a moment to fully register what he said. Didn't mean to wake me? He's dressed already, meaning he was up and crawled back into bed with me.

"Where were you?"

"Talking to some of the nymphs. Filling in the details."

"Details?"

"Yeah." He tenses against me. "Maybe we should get up. There's some stuff I need to tell you about."

"No, stay right there." Whatever it is, I already know it's a doozy. He promised last night he would share something he figured out. Being in his arms will soften the blow. Or at least it can't hurt.

Samson obeys, staying with me in our little bed as he explains. "Last night, I recognized who your mother was talking about when she mentioned a wizard conquering the elements. That’s what my dad taught me."

"What? You surrender to the fire. It's why you struggle for control."

"Yeah, but the next step is conquering."

That's right, I remember. Instead of practicing balance and harmony between a person and elemental magic, this theory involves letting the power overwhelm you, supposedly to build up strength and eventually assert superiority.

"You said you never got to the final stage," I say.

"Nobody did, as far as I know. Except for one guy."

"Your father?"

"No," he replies. "The guy who taught him. Caspian Zale."

Taught him? Oh. He mentioned something about that while filling me in about his dad, but there were too many other things going on.

I wish we were in a real bed. Then maybe I could throw the covers over my head and avoid dealing with this for a while. I doubt throwing the nets over my face will feel as satisfying.

"Figured Zale was a con artist," Samson continues. "That his amazing water powers and his teachings were a giant lie. The guy charged a small fortune to learn from him, then he fled in the middle of the night with all the money he swindled, off to con the next suckers." He grows quiet for a moment. "Now I'm not so sure."

"You think he conquered the water?" I ask, baffled.

"No, probably not. He created a story to sell to his followers, but maybe the strength he boasted about was real. There has to be some kernel of truth in all his lies, because I think the nymphs were involved somehow."

"How would they be connected to this nut job?”

"I haven't figured out all the details yet. But if it's all related, it must have some connection to what's going on now."

A knot tightens in my stomach at the thought. What malevolent magical forces are the nymphs up against? Did a wizard really cause so much damage that the bay couldn't recover any other way than with a sacrifice? And is it happening again? It doesn't seem possible.

Okay, all this is a little much to tackle lying down. He was right. Time to get up.

I slowly sit up, stretching my arms above my head and feeling the strain in my muscles from lying on the rocky surface for too long. It’s a shame there’s no electricity here, which means no coffee to jump start my day.

Without a caffeine fix, I do my best to think it through. According to my mother, a deranged caster attacked them because he believed in making the forces of nature bend to his will. Did a wizard really target a secluded community of water nymphs just to prove he could?

The man Samson describes, this Zale character, is more opportunistic than that. If Zale targeted Calypso Bay, it benefited him somehow. He'd have a goal, even if the nymphs never knew it.

"Zale was first active around the time you were born," Samson says next. "Then he split when unsatisfied customers were piling up. The heat died down over the years, and when I was growing up, he came back and conned new folks."

"Like your dad," I fill in.

"Yeah," he agrees, his expression darkening. "The sickness in the bay, maybe it's because this guy is back, doing something messed up all over again."

Now I'm glad for a little distance between Samson and me. I know his father is about his least favorite person in the world, but I still feel awkward about what I need to ask next.

"Um, yep. That's certainly one option. But how do we know, I mean… are you sure it's not your dad poisoning the bay now?"

"Oh, I bet he's involved," he agrees easily. "Helping his guru. But his leader is a waterbrand, and my dad's a rockbrand."

"The landslide," I realize. Did Samson's father do something to cause the landslide?

He nods. "Like I said, I don't know how it all connects exactly yet, but it's linked. It has to be."

"I agree."

We can’t solve it all now. Our conversation ends when we hear footsteps echo in our cavernous hideaway, giving me just enough time to get decent and throw on some pants.

I meet my mother at the mouth of the cove. She has a basket nestled in the crook of her arm. She hands it to me. “Brought you some breakfast.”

"Thank you.” I accept the offering while my stomach rumbles.

Is this the only reason she’s here?

Relieved as I am that my people haven’t exiled me, it’s more complicated when it comes to my mother. I’m not sure everything can just go back to normal.

She doesn’t push the issue, and neither do I, so we stare at each other for several seconds without knowing what to do until Samson saves us.

“Did I hear something about food?”

He walks up behind me and eagerly takes the basket. Even though he's dressed, it’s clear we spent the night together. My mother notices how close we are and debates whether to comment, but she’s interrupted before she makes a decision.

"Maris!"

“Come quick!”

The cove comes alive with the sound of footsteps, and a handful of nymphs burst into view. They start dragging my mother away. "Hurry, there's been another landslide."

So much for breakfast.

~

The nymphs leave without us, but Samson and I aren’t far behind. While nymphs swim nearly everywhere, we do have a few simple boats carved from fallen trees for when we need to transport things or keep something dry. Samson and I borrow a boat and head out to see what’s happening.

Samson does most of the work as he rows us towards the site of the landslide, his muscles flexing beneath tattooed skin with every powerful pull of the oars. He rows with such quiet determination I'm not sure I'd be able to get us there faster, even if I used magic.

For the moment, I hold off on using my powers. They're going to be needed to help with the destruction.

It's easy to find the landslide. We follow the distant shouts and the growing trail of debris in the water. As we draw closer, the nymphs frantically work to contain the damage and soothe the choppy waters that greet us.

The landscape ahead looks wrong. Like a giant took an eraser to part of the cliffs. Jagged edges have crumbled and been smoothed away, leaving raw torrents of thick mud and earth.

The recent destruction hit the cliffs that the imps call home. A few bright trinkets glint in the water, standing out from other debris, shiny items that imps love hoarding.

Going directly in the water would be easier, but I’d rather take the boat as far as we can. Getting wet isn’t exactly a recipe for success when it comes to firebrands.

We hear a desperate cry on the edges of the commotion and row furiously to where a nymph lies ensnared.

"An imp was trapped in the mud." The nymph thrashes and struggles in the thick sentiment enveloping him. "I freed him and searched for others when the debris caught me off guard."

The cliff looks like its melting and falling down into the water, taking everything above with it. The nymph is caught in the downpour, unable to free himself as a fallen log traps him against the thick mud.

My power stirs to assist. Rivulets of mud begin to part. The moisture lets me command the deluge, though it’s slow work when met with so much dense muck.

Beside me, Samson extends his arms, tattoos glowing like molten lava. Flames burst forth, searing the heart of the wood pinning down the nymph. The fire burns through the log’s center without harming the man trapped under the wood, and the rest collapses until nothing more than charred fragments remains.

Once the nymph's upper torso becomes free, Samson and I work together to haul the nymph free.

"Thank you, Argyle." The nymph’s chest heaves as he lays on his back between Samson and I, catching his breath. “Thank you, Argyle’s… incredibly impressive companion. Does everyone on land look like you? We really should get out more.”

Samson’s face is priceless, not expecting the nymph’s unique expression of gratitude. I’m just happy we could be useful.

Our passenger soon slips into the water and swims away to safety. Samson and I survey the scene, looking for where we can lend a hand next.

Choppy waves rock us back and forth as the wake from an approaching boat disrupts the already turbulent waters, tossing our little craft about. What fool decided these were the perfect conditions for a sailing expedition?

The relatively modest human vessel still dwarfs our tiny craft. I squint against the spray, trying to make sense of the figure at the helm.

A familiar face pulls up beside us. Solis.

“Get in!" Solis shouts, his voice cutting through the roar of the splashing waves. "We have work to do.”