Buried Read online

  “You could have hit me, you idiot! Don’t pull out the lightning again, you hear?”

  I may be rattled, but I have too much experience not to take every advantage that presents itself in a fight. I leap toward the woman, who looks partly chastised and partly indignant.

  “You’re welcome!” she yells. “You weren’t doing so great yourself, you definitely needed a hand.”

  She doesn’t even see me coming. With a snarl, I push her to the mud and bury my fingers in her center. The elemental fire strands immediately surround my own and my skin starts to burn, but I grit my teeth and ignore the pain. One quick squeeze, and the woman relaxes into unconsciousness. Without a human to guide them, the fire strands retreat to the ring.

  Wayne doesn’t miss the opportunity, either. While I knock out my opponent, he punches and kicks at whatever part of Ben he can. Ben cowers before the onslaught, but before Wayne can take him down, Ben slams his cuff against the ground with a snarl.

  Waves of silt mound up under Wayne’s feet. He loses his balance, and the waves carry him away. They grow far higher than they did with Jen, so high that they curl at the top, then crash down like a wave on a steep beach. Wayne is covered with mud, choking in it, and by the time the waves subside, he lies facedown, half-buried in the silt.

  I run toward Ben, who turns much more quickly than I anticipated. The ground under me gushes water and crevasses form. Ben’s spirit is creating another sinkhole, but I’m not unprepared. I push off the unstable ground with all the strength I can muster and soar toward Ben. His expression of surprise is almost comical.

  I slam into his body and we roll out of the sinkhole’s reach. Ben throws a few wild punches at me, but he is clearly not a practiced fighter and I defend myself easily. I could punch him back, but my focus is on his lauvan. My fingers seek purchase on his center, but the strands there are strangely slippery. The ground continues to tremble from Ben’s spirit traveler. I need to subdue the spirit somehow. Ben’s flailing aggravates me, and I press my arm into his neck to contain him while my other hand wrestles with unlatching the cuff. Earth strands form a barrier around the cuff, and my fingers can’t penetrate. If I can’t take it off, what can I do?

  My eyes close and I send my mind into the lauvan surrounding me. Every time I try this, it becomes more straightforward. The presence of the earth elemental is there, right there, and with my will I force it away. It doesn’t put up much of a fight and flees until no presence touches my mind. When my eyes open, no earth strands cover the cuff.

  Ben looks at me with a terrified, incredulous stare.

  “What did you do?” he whispers hoarsely. “Where did the spirit traveler go?”

  “I told you not to mess with me.” While we talk, I debate what to do with Ben. Render him unconscious? Tie him up? “I don’t take kindly to anyone harming those I care about. You fall into that camp.”

  Ben splutters indignantly, but I glance up to find the trail of lauvan. I became turned around during the chaos, and it is our only guide to the ceremony site.

  It’s nowhere. No gleaming rainbow path stretches over the silt, no matter where I turn my head. My heart pounds almost painfully in my chest. Where is my arrow that points to Minnie? Have the spirits somehow erased it?

  I thrust my hand against Ben’s neck without warning. His eyes bulge.

  “Where is Minnie?” I yell. “Where did you take her? The spirit path I was following is gone.”

  Ben shakes his head.

  “I won’t tell you,” he forces out. “We will connect. You can’t stop us.”

  I squeeze his throat harder. He makes a choking, glottal sound. His head is half-submerged in the muck and sinking deeper.

  “Stop it, Merry!” Jen shouts. She must have crawled back from the silty waves. “You’re killing him!”

  I don’t care. I need to make him talk. He has to understand that his life is on the line, that if he doesn’t tell me where to go, I will end it. His eyes are frightened but not yet terrified. I can change that.

  My free fingers enter the nest of strands at his center. Slowly, I start to squeeze. Ben’s body shudders, then spasms.

  “You will tell me,” I whisper then squeeze harder. Ben’s shaking intensifies. Through the blood pounding in my ears, as if from a great distance, I hear shouting but ignore it. Finally, the expression in Ben’s eyes show me what I want to see.

  A tight hand around my wrist loosens my grip on Ben’s throat, and another relaxes my hold on his lauvan. I let go and stand. Alejandro stares at me with concern. Gary and Cecil are silent, and Jen’s nervous eyes look at me through her mud-covered face. They don’t know how far I’ll go to save Minnie, but they’re starting to guess. The unease is palpable. I would worry about how this will affect my relationship with my friends, but right now I have more important issues to handle. I look down at Ben, who gasps and coughs weakly on the ground.

  “Well?” I say. “Where is she?”

  When Ben collects himself enough to focus his streaming eyes on me, he points down the beach where the rainbow strands used to lie.

  “Walk to the next corner.” He pauses to cough. “Turn right past the massive boulder. There’s a cave behind it that’s always covered except for the lowest low tide. You can’t miss it.”

  “Get Liam,” I say to Alejandro and point at the sinkhole. “I’ll find Wayne.”

  Alejandro and Cecil shuffle cautiously to the edge of the sinkhole. I run past the new hills of silty sand piled up between us and the distant water.

  Wayne lies facedown in the muck. I skid to a halt on my knees beside him and turn his body to face the sky. No air lauvan enter or exit his mouth, and my heart stops. Is his airway full of silt? Carefully, I grasp the strands of the muck in his mouth between my fingers and pull up.

  Silt bubbles out from between Wayne’s lips and drips down his muddy cheek. Moments pass, and still more emerges. Can I extract it all? Will Wayne breathe again?

  A choking cough rasps out of Wayne’s mouth, and my shoulders sag in relief. I turn him to the side and he vomits up the rest of the disgusting muck. When he is ready, I help him sit upright.

  “Welcome back,” I say in a hoarse voice. “I thought you might have left us.”

  “I’m tougher than that,” he says with a ghost of a chuckle. “Can you give me a little pick-me-up? A lauvan boost? Is that possible?”

  “Absolutely,” I say. “You’ll have to sleep it off later, mind you.”

  “I can do that.”

  I twist a few pertinent strands above Wayne’s forehead, and his bloodshot eyes change from weary to clear and bright. He stands up with enthusiasm.

  “Come on, Merry. We have a damsel in distress to save.”

  I slap him on the back, relieved more than I can express that he is alive and well, and we rejoin the others. Liam has crawled out of his hole with the others’ help, and beyond the ruination of his clothes, looks in good health.

  Wayne’s right. It’s time to continue our mission. I turn in the right direction, but before I take a step, Ben speaks again.

  “It doesn’t matter what you do. You’ll never get through the barrier.”

  I lunge at him. I have no intention of doing anything beyond startling him, and my goal is achieved. Ben pales and shrinks away. I let out a huff of disgust and spit at his feet.

  “If you’ve led me on the wrong path, I will come and find you again,” I say. “And I won’t be as merciful.”

  I don’t bother waiting for a response. Minnie waits for me, and this interlude has kept me from her for long enough already. I break into a run and leave Ben and his unconscious companion far behind. The sound of pounding feet tells me the others follow.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  I don’t slow down enough for anyone to catch up to me. I don’t need to feel Alejandro’s conciliatory pat on my arm or see Jen’s reproachful gaze after my treatment of Ben. I do what I must to protect those I care about. I only hope I don’t lose their regard for me
through my actions.

  The beach is clear of lauvan, but Ben’s directions were simple. My feet push off the sucking mud with as light of footfalls as I can manage, so eager am I to come to Minnie’s side.

  At the next corner, I turn right with unhesitating footsteps. The only sounds behind me are footfalls and ragged breathing. I push harder. Minnie is waiting. When my fingers brush the strands that connect us, even though they descend into the earth and give no hint of direction, they still vibrate with confusion and terror.

  A lauvan cable emerges from the distant ocean and runs directly through a long, narrow bay to a dark gash in the cliff at its end, beside a truly massive boulder left from the last ice age.

  Two figures emerge from the tunnel. One shouts and points at us.

  “Watch yourselves,” I call back. “We have company.”

  I feel rather than see the others cluster closer together. I soldier on. The figures from the tunnel haven’t acted yet, and I want to put in as much distance as I can before they make their move.

  We’re three-quarters of the way to the tunnel when the rumbling starts. It finally makes me stop and look up.

  The cliffside is falling away, rocks rolling and sliding toward us, soil and gravel kicking up into the sky with the force of the motion.

  “Landslide!” I yell. “Everyone run back, as far as you can.”

  Shrieks and panicked footsteps tell me my instructions are being followed, but I don’t join the others. Instead, my fingers feel for the right strands to transform. A moment later, powerful wings thrust my body into the sky. I’m a merlin falcon, one of my favorite forms, and perfect for evading landslides. A quick glance behind reveals the others safely out of the landslide’s path, staring ahead with shocked looks but safe. I turn my focus to the guards. With a shriek, I flap toward them. When I’m close enough, I dive.

  A diving falcon is no laughing matter. I’m a bullet of feathers, tipped by a beak of ferocious sharpness and backed by talons of the same. While I don’t have the speed of a peregrine falcon, I’m fast enough.

  The guards yell and dive out of the way, but it’s simple for me to adjust my trajectory. At the last moment, I pull out of my dive and point my talons down. They land on one guard’s head, and it’s short work to gouge out an eye.

  He screams and bats at me with clumsy arms, but I dive out of the way and flap above him. A whooshing sound turns my head. What is that?

  The other guard must control an air spirit. A huge wave of wind barrels down at me, invisible to all but my eyes. It’s a boiling mass of air threads, promising destruction when it arrives.

  In a flash, I release my hold on my strands and my body reforms into its human state. I drop to the ground, winded but heavy enough to withstand the hurricane that washes over us. There is a blast of pressure, a howling of winds, then it’s gone as quickly as it came.

  I don’t wait for the guards to recover. Quick as a snake, I throw myself at the uninjured guard, the one who controls the air. His eyes widen in terror and his lauvan, air and human alike, freeze in shock. It’s a matter of a moment to thrust my hand in his center and squeeze him into unconsciousness.

  The Earth shakes under my feet. Damn, is there another guard? I look up but the guard I thought I had already dealt with glares at me with hatred. One hand covers his injured eye, which bleeds through his fingers and drips down his chin, but the other points to the ground with outstretched fingers. Earth strands pour from a cuff on his wrist into the sand.

  There’s a tremendous crack, and my head snaps up to look even as I dive out of the way. A moment later, rocks from the tunnel entrance crash on the ground where I was standing. The guard grimaces and points his fingers down again.

  Before I can react, Cecil takes a flying leap from behind me and throws himself at the guard, who yells in pain. A pulse of energy flows through the earth lauvan that connect the guard to the ground, and another shower of rocks pummels the two.

  “Cecil!” I shout. When the rocks stop falling, I jump to his side. The guard is unconscious, knocked out by his own rockfall. Cecil breathes heavily and looks pale.

  “My leg,” he forces out. “I think it’s broken.”

  I shift a good-sized boulder off his shin. It lies at a strange angle, and bruises are already forming. I wince.

  “Looks like it.” I press my lips together and glance at the tunnel, then reach for his leg. Cecil puts a hand out to stop me.

  “Come get me later, okay? I know there’s not much time. I’m not going to bleed out here, right?” He looks to me for confirmation. I shake my head.

  “No, but…” I glance at the tunnel again. Jen skids to a stop beside us with a concerned look on her face. Cecil pushes my shoulder.

  “Go. Just come fix me once you’re done in there.” He lays back on the ground and takes ragged breaths.

  “What?” Jen says. “You can’t just leave him, Merry.”

  “There’s no time,” says Cecil again.

  I reach into his center and tweak a few strands, and his face relaxes.

  “That should help with the pain. Thanks for coming to my rescue, Cecil.”

  He smiles with his eyes closed.

  “Go get her. Man, whatever you did for the pain is awesome.”

  I stand and look around. Everyone else has arrived. They look wide-eyed but ready. Jen dithers for a moment, then kisses Cecil’s cheek and stands. I wave at the dark tunnel.

  “Here we go.”

  Before we take five steps, I stop everyone.

  “There’s no point in going in blind.” I say. “Let me see what I can sense up ahead.”

  There are a few confused noises from the group. I ignore them and plunge my hands into the cable that runs along the tunnel’s edge, a great pulsing shimmery cord of light as high as my waist. The painful pleasure threatens to overwhelm me, but I grit my teeth and force my mind to travel down the cable’s length.

  The cable winds along a twisting path, ever up and up. It doesn’t take long before a gleaming disturbance of human lauvan appears, two clusters of them, and then a great glowing center where at least six cables intersect, and many more human lauvan clusters wait. The intersection point throbs with a strange energy that I’ve never seen before. A tremor shakes my feet, and I watch in fascination as the cables pulse outward from the center. I send my conscious back to my body and open my eyes with a gasp.

  “There are two guards at the entrance to a central cave, and many more people in the cave itself. Until then, we have clear sailing.”

  “How…” Wayne starts, then shakes his head. “Never mind.”

  Jen passes me a flashlight. Everyone else already holds one.

  “Good thinking,” I say to Jen. She smiles grimly.

  “I’m rarely unprepared these days.”

  We set off into the darkness, illuminated only by our yellow circles of light. The floor is smooth and sandy, and the walls are of jagged rock, with a ceiling higher than I can reach. Everything drips, and the scent of rotting seaweed is pungent. Alejandro catches up to me.

  “I felt the barrier where they’re keeping Minnie,” I tell him. “It’s around a center, where lauvan cables cross. It’s a place of great power, so it’s no wonder March chose to do the ceremony here. The spirits must have guided her to the right spot.”

  “Did you find anything out about the barrier?” he asks.

  “Nothing useful. I’ll have to wing it when we get there.”

  The tunnel floor rises in a steep incline, and the sand is loose underfoot. The tunnel steadily becomes drier as we rise above the high tide line. After a few more minutes, my flashlight beam illuminates a sudden drop. The tunnel opens into a wider cave. My light picks out a few details―hints of rock formations that look like waterfalls, jagged crystals, and endless stalactites and stalagmites―although the beam is too dim for my eyes to pick out anything more than tantalizing glimpses of unearthly beauty. Behind me, gasps echo in the cavern.

  “Yes, the cavern
is beautiful,” I say. “But now we have to climb into it.”

  I get on my hands and knees and shuffle my feet down until I have a foothold on the cliff. It’s no more than a ten-foot drop, and I scale the rough rockface easily. We’ve climbed far enough up that this cavern would never be submerged. The others follow more slowly, but all manage, even Gary, who is helped by Liam. The only sounds are our breaths, footfalls, and the muffled dripping of water. The air is dank and stale. Jen shivers beside me.

  “It’s gorgeous and terrifying all at once down here,” she says quietly. I rub her arm in reply then carry on through the cavern.

  We circle around the stalagmites, but the path is clear before us. The sand shows a trail of footprints that lead to the far end of the cavern. The ceiling is rippled with smoothly carved bowl-shaped hollows, as if giant bubble of lava popped and solidified up there long ago. The tips of stalactites drip from low portions of the ceiling, and our path skirts a veritable sea of matching stalagmites. A quiet waterfall flows out of the side of the cavern wall and runs beside the path, dark and glistening in the light of our flashlights. The water shivers with earth tremors, which are only minutes apart, now.

  After we silently traverse the cavern, the path leads us to a narrow tunnel leading up once more. We file in one by one, and I take the lead. The ground is rough, but there is enough height that we don’t need to stoop. The occasional sandy patch shows footprints.

  The path inclines sharply, and I put out my arm to stop Alejandro. The rest jostle to a stop.

  “I think we’re almost there,” I say. “I remember this slope. Let me check.”

  Sure enough, when I plunge my hands into the cable, the two human clusters from before are a minute’s walk away. I pull my hands out and face the others.

  “Quietly, now. See if we can sneak up on them.”

  At the top of the slope, the tunnel widens until it is as wide as four outstretched armlengths. Large boulders are strewn across the floor. A glow of rainbow light from an unseen source silhouettes two figures who stand with their backs to us.

  I point at Wayne and Jen with a finger, illuminated by my flashlight, and indicate that they should sneak to the right. I point Gary, Alejandro, and Liam to the left. The flashlights wink off and a faint rustling indicates they are following orders. I bend down and flit from one boulder to the other, straight up the middle.