Landlocked (A water witch novel)

Landlocked

C.S. Moore

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

LANDLOCKED

Copyright © 2013 C.S. MOORE

ISBN-13: 978-0615-86478-5

Cover Art Designed by
Mae I Design

Dedication:

For the dreamers.

Prologue

It was late in the season, and a chill hung in the air. The sea was starting to become aggressive, as it always did this time of year. The churning water splashed against the rocky shore, sending sprays of white mist into the air for the full moon’s light to catch. A veteran boat captain might have thought the rough waters had come on a little early and much stronger than usual, and he would have been right. The ocean was as much a living thing as the creatures underneath its dark surface, and the ocean was in mourning tonight.

As were the three glistening figures at the water’s edge.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Edmar?” one of the silhouettes whispered.

The largest of the three, who stood closest to the water, ran both hands through his wavy hair, flexing his fingers around the tendrils. Tears filled his green-blue eyes. He turned to look at the others, his two most true and trusted friends. Moving toward them quickly, he snatched something from the slight woman’s grasp.

As he gazed down at the bundle cradled in his arms, a sob escaped his lips. “There is a difference between want and need, Dylan. No, I don’t want to do this—but I need to.” He composed himself as the conviction of necessity helped him move forward. “Sylvia, do you have the medicine? All of you will need it.”

“Yes, and don’t worry. If this is what you wish, we will make it happen,” she said.

Edmar had a hard time meeting her eyes. Sylvia was one of the most striking creatures he had ever seen. With her thin muscular frame, long auburn hair, and glorious angel’s face, she so looked like—

He shook his head, banishing the thought. “Remember, if it isn’t working, you’ve gone too far from home. The medicine can only do so much. Eventually you won’t need it.”

The wind carried a chilling shriek to them, and they snapped their heads to the water.

“You must go quickly, or we won’t be able to leave,” Dylan said, holding his hands out. Edmar allowed Dylan to take the bundle, it felt like it was his heart being emptied.

“Go, now!” Sylvia urged as the hissing on the breeze sounded nearer.

Edmar turned to the water and hesitated. He hurried back to Dylan and looked down into the face of the beautiful baby girl in his friend’s arms. She was sleeping soundly, her long brown hair falling in cascading waves around her. The only person he had ever seen more stunning was her mother. “I will see you again, my beautiful Maribel,” he whispered into her hair and gently kissed her soft cheek. “Do not fail me.” His words were razor sharp and could have stung Dylan and Sylvia if they hadn’t known him as well. He had every reason to threaten; she was their only hope.

“We have given up our lives for her, for you. She will want for nothing, we will see to her safety and happiness. Now go, please go,” she begged. “You hear them stirring.”

With one more wistful glance at the sleeping beauty, Edmar turned and dove into the water.

Seventeen years later

1

I knew at once that I was dreaming. Two things made it glaringly obvious. First off, I wa
s in the vast open water of the ocean, and I had never even been to a beach. Secondly, it was the same dream I'd had every night since I could remember. I floated on the surface of the water, not on a boat or a surfboard. Nothing was between my skin and the sea. The constant pushing and pulling of the water underneath me made it feel like the ocean was breathing. I was never more alive than when I was dreaming. I knew I should be happier when I was actually awake and really living, but I couldn’t help the excitement pumping through me as I took it all in. The sky never seemed quite so beautiful and infinite in my small town away from any real body of water.

A dolphin surfaced next to me and gazed at me with intelligent eyes. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t exactly likely that I'd swim with the dolphins outside of SeaWorld, but this was a dream, so I just nodded and took off. We swam along the surface side by side until he plunged. I submerged myself and followed. The salt water stung my eyes at first. But the feeling was fleeting, and after a moment, I could see as clearly as I did above the water. Very unlike the chlorine-ridden pool I swam in at school. No matter how long I kept my eyes open, they never got used to the chemicals. The dolphin had to surface for air before I did, but I followed him up.

When we breeched the surface, a high-pitch shriek was hanging in the air. At first I thought it was the dolphin speaking, but when I glanced over, he was gone. The ocean was suddenly dark and menacing. Something my ocean never was. This was a new part of the dream. I’d never had a nightmare before, but my racing heart rate and crawling skin made me think I was having one. The screeching rose in pitch and volume, and the noise shot through me like an icy spear. The water began to bubble around me, and I couldn’t make myself move, too frozen with fear.

My alarm clock saved me from my strange slumber. I shot up and pushed the sheets off. They felt too much like the water lapping at my body. Before I could fully wake up, Aunt Sylvia was through my bedroom door. Even though I saw her every day of my life, her beauty still took my breath away. She was graceful from head to toe, even when she was worried like now.

“What’s the matter, Mari? I thought I heard you screaming,” she said, searching the room. What she was looking for I wasn’t sure; maybe a guy in a hockey mask wielding a machete.

I scooted to the side of the bed and stretched my arms into the air, letting my too long hair fall down my back. “I’m fine, just had a bad dream.”

She sucked in a breath and her brow stayed creased with worry. “A bad dream? What was it about?”

I pursed my lips. Sylvia and Dylan didn’t like me talking about the ocean. They never really said it in so many words, but I learned early on that any talk of it was painful for them. My parents had died in a terrible boating accident, and it seemed like it was just too hard on them to hear me speak fondly of the waters that had taken my mom and dad from us.

“Nothing really, it was stupid. I can’t believe it scared me,” I said, trying to ease her tension. I guessed it must be awkward for her to try and console an eighteen year old about a bad dream; especially when she never had to do it when I was a kid.

Sylvia narrowed her eyes. Even if it had nothing to do with the topic that brought Sylvia pain to discuss, I still wouldn’t have wanted to recount the terrifying cries that had pierced through me while floating in the water. I shivered involuntarily at the memory. She didn’t press me further, for which I was grateful.

“Well come down for breakfast.” She patted my back and ran her fingers through my hair. “Did you skip yesterday? Your hair is past the middle of your back.”

I cringed at her tone. “Oops, I was in a hurry yesterday.”

She tried to give me a stern look, but I flashed my most winning smile and she couldn’t keep a straight face. “All right I’ll help you. Are your scissors on the counter?”

I followed her into my bathroom and got the scissors out of one of the drawers. I sat at the bench in front of my large vanity and brushed through the tangles.

“Just a trim, or do want something wild?” She smiled.

I had tried having my hair cut into a bob once, but it was way too hard to manage. Halfway through school my haircut had conspicuously lengthened. People didn’t notice the growth rate when it was already so long. “No, nothing crazy, you were right about the bob. Are you ever going to let me forget it?” Sylvia had told me bobs were cute and trendy but not for us.

“I never let you forget anything, like the art exhibit today for example. What time does it start again?” she asked while snipping away.

I watched the chocolate brown clippings slowly fall to the floor. I took in their length and guessed she was chopping off about six inches. Not bad for two days. “I think it starts at five thirty. I’ve got swim practice after school so you better pick me up at the pool so I’m not late.”

“That’s a good idea,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I had the bad habit of being late and I couldn’t seem to help it. I just lost track of time so easily. I was usually late because I was swimming. Making it to a swim meet or practice on time had never been too much of a problem for me, but everything else was a different story.

With one last snip of the scissors, Sylvia straightened up. “There, now you’re presentable.” She leaned down to kiss my cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to show anything at our booth?”

I shook my head. “I don’t have anything I want to show right now, besides how could I put my painting next to yours?”

“Easily, yours are wonderful! Now hurry down to breakfast before you make yourself late for school.” She pointed to the broom in the corner with a knowing smile before she walked out.

I sighed and snatched the broom up. It felt like I had spent half of my life sweeping up hair. Apparently we had some freak gene in the family and our hair grew ridiculously fast. Sylvia told me there was nothing wrong with me, but she treated the quirk like a dirty secret, telling me not to let anyone know about it. I swept up all of the loose strands, and threw them in the trash. I pulled out the stool to my vanity once again and sat in front of it, glancing at my reflection.