Mutante: Chapter 13
Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Frerichs
He looked over at Rosie. “So, what do you think? Can you move the path to the siren-plant?”
Rosie nodded and firmly recited the rhyme she had come up with. The path snapped into place more quickly than it had all day. She then tied a fan-tail leaf over her gills and helped Robert secure one around his own gills. Her jaw tightened. It might not be the safest thing to do, but she too refused to let Rina win. She gestured to the path in front of them. “Shall we?”
After some discussion, they left Waterdancer in the tunnel, unsure whether he would understand the need for absolute stillness. Thomas, too, stayed with the seahorse. None of them wanted to risk him getting damaged. They agreed to come at the plant from several feet apart, hoping that if one of them triggered a defensive response, the other would remain safe. Rosie held her breath as she picked out a nearby crab and began to mimic its movements. Her hands trembled as she begged her tail to cooperate. If only the path had brought them closer to the siren-plant. If only they could have just hooked a seed pod from safety and run away.
The plant’s wails filled her ears, and she steeled her heart. Twenty feet away. No matter how heart-rending the calls were, she refused to listen. Ten. The number of crabs grew. She glanced over at Robert, who was likewise shadowing a crab. Five feet. She hardly dared breathe. The siren-plant continued its wailing and shot out another batch of pollen. The fan-tail plants continued to hold. And then a second scream joined the first. Rosie slowly glanced up. A porpoise was struggling against the plant’s tentacles.
Robert turned towards the porpoise, apparently forgetting how vital their patterned movements were.
If his instincts didn’t continually put them in danger, she might have liked his concern for others.
As in slow motion, one of the siren plant’s tentacles wiggled towards Robert’s upright form.
“Robert,” she hissed, trying to get his attention without alerting the siren-plant.
He remained distracted.
“Robert!”
The merman finally turned to her, and she gestured frantically at the tentacle headed his way. His mouth formed an ‘o’ and he immediately returned to crawling along the ground.
Rosie continued her excruciatingly slow guise of crabhood, despite how badly she wanted to run away or do something to help Robert—anything! But it wouldn’t help either of them if she ended up needing rescued too.
The tentacle shifted closer to Robert, and his hand slid to the hilt of his sword.
Two feet.
Robert, apparently in a sudden burst of inspiration, gently lifted a protesting crab above him so that the tentacle brushed up against it.
One foot.
The tentacle sat poised above the crab.
Rosie reached out and grabbed two of the seeds they so desperately needed and began making her way out from under the plant. Robert’s eyes were fixed on the tentacle, and she worried he might try to get closer to the plant instead of fleeing. With a mental scream of frustration, Rosie chose a crab that was heading away from the plant and would bring her into Robert’s line of vision. Getting close to the tentacle was—her jaw began to ache as she kept it shut tight to keep her teeth from chattering.
Only three more feet and she would be in Robert’s line of sight. The tentacle hadn’t attacked him, but neither had it returned to the upper layers of water.
The moment she was behind the tentacle, she risked calling Robert’s name quietly. His eyes flicked to her, and she held up the seeds, gesturing towards where the path presumably waited for them. He gave a slight nod, set the crab down, and then, his eyes remaining fixed on the tentacle, he began the slow process of retreat.
It was agonizing. Every time the pattern required a halt, the urge to dash back to the path filled her like an overfull pufferfish. And then, after waiting, she had to nerve herself to move, terrified that the change in state might bring the siren-plant’s attention.
They had nearly reached the path when another creature let out a shriek and Robert once more jerked in that direction. This time two questing tentacles slid towards them. The area around them was entirely barren of crabs, though. With a muffled oath, Rosie rushed to Robert. At the same moment, he drew his sword, and together they fled back to the path.
The two tentacles jabbed at them, and Robert sliced them off with his sword. The plant’s scream turned shrill, and suddenly a veritable horde of tentacles writhed towards them.
The path was still ten feet away. They wouldn’t make it. Rosie’s limbs felt heavy. Her tail gave a sudden lurch and began propelling her towards the path. Robert fell back, still prepared to continue slicing at the tentacles.
If only the path were right here!
She hesitated for a moment.
“Waterdancer!” Robert roared. The seahorse burst from the path. Robert grabbed hold of the harness and then turned Waterdancer back towards the path. The tentacles were still faster than the seahorse.
Without even thinking about it, Rosie threw out her hand as though to ward them off from Robert and Waterdancer, her trembling lips reciting the rhyme for getting safely to her grandmother’s.
Kelp bent away from them as though a giant wave had swept across the ocean floor, and the tentacles slammed into something solid. Gills fluttering faster than they ever had in her life, Rosie sank to the ocean floor. Robert looked around bewildered, sword still raised. Despite the siren-plant’s best efforts, the tunnel held. He sheathed his sword and swam over to her.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, the movement feeling as though her head weighed more than a dolphin. She laid down on the sandy earth, staring up at the roof of their tunnel. “Just—just give me a minute.”
Robert let go of Waterdancer and sank down next to her. “You don’t look all right.”
“Neither do you,” she said, studying him. A bruise was forming on one arm where a tentacle had grabbed him before he’d sliced it off, and blood trickled from his cheek and one of his forearms—presumably scratches from his unusual use of the crab.
He chuckled. “Don’t you mean I look extra-dashing?”
She shook her head wearily. “You’re bleeding.”
“Don’t worry. I have bandages in my saddlebag.”
“Good. The last thing we need is a vampire shark to come after us.”
His eyes widened. Eating magic kelp had changed many of the inhabitants of the forest, and vampire sharks were no exception. He almost teleported to the saddlebags, presumably to go bandage his wounds.
Tentacles banged against the invisible wall of their tunnel. Really, they should probably go somewhere else, but the thought of doing so . . . . At least magic had been good for something today, even if she couldn’t explain why the path had agreed to come this close to a siren-plant now.
“Might I suggest we take Miss Rose to the cave? She appears to be suffering from severe exhaustion,” Thomas said from his place on Waterdancer’s side.
“That’s probably a good idea. I have to admit that fight was not one of my favorites.” He seated himself next to Rosie and began wrapping his arm. “Brains got us what we needed, but that doesn’t mean I enjoyed pretending to be a crab.”
“It was miserable,” Rosie said wearily. “I felt like every nerve was on fire every single time I had to just stop and wait.”
Robert nodded. “I don’t much care for waiting myself,” he said with a grave look.
“Oh?”
He grimaced. “I’ve had to do more than my fair share. Enough about that though—” He gave her a winning smile. “Since you can see my face and I cannot, would you be so kind?” He held up a strip of magical kelp.
Rosie pushed herself up, her arms nearly giving way as though her bones had turned to seawater. Somewhat wobbly, she took the magical kelp and carefully placed it on his jaw. He had a very nice jaw, she noted absently.
Robert took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you kindly, fair maiden.”
She gave a short nod, too tired to do anything more. “Well, shall we go to the cave?”
He eyed her. “Are you certain you don’t need to rest for longer?”
“No, I’m—I’ll be fine.”
“Well, make sure you let Waterdancer carry most of the weight. He’s strong enough to manage.”
Rosie cleared her throat, unsure what to do with this level of solicitousness. Most people were exceedingly aware of her clumsiness and gave only cursory attention when she flung herself into a wall or knocked over another vase, regardless of how painful it had been. “I’ll have to change the path,” she murmured.
“You should eat something first,” Thomas said firmly. “You overextended yourself, and modifying the path further will not help.”
“I don’t think I could eat right now,” Rosie said, gesturing towards the siren-plant, its tentacles now testing the barrier. Her stomach felt as twisted as the plant’s tentacles.
“What if we just swim along the path the way it is for now and then we can eat as soon as we’re out of sight?” Robert winced as the siren-plant gave off another of those particularly shrill screams. “And out of earshot.”
She smiled wanly. “That sounds lovely. I don’t think we’re anywhere near Grandma’s house, so the path should be plenty long enough.”
“Then let us away,” Thomas said urgently. “The sooner you can eat something, Miss Rose, the more content I will be.”
Rosie hid a frown, but obediently grabbed hold of Waterdancer’s saddle. Thomas’s concern seemed unwarranted; maybe he (like Robert) didn’t really understand just how sturdy she was. It was nice, though, having people concerned for her. The moment they were out of sight and earshot of the siren-plant, Thomas demanded they stop and rest.
Surprisingly, after eating, she felt less like she’d been flung into about a hundred walls. Some of her weariness returned after saying the rhyme to get them to the cave. Not a surprise, considering that they had to swim that whole path before she could collapse. She was too tired to talk much, but Robert and Thomas kept up an amusing conversation about the various scrapes that had become lore they knew about. Even so, the trip took ages. More than once, Rosie started to drift off and jerked herself back awake. Every time, Robert would shoot her a concerned look, and Thomas would endeavor to keep up an even more scintillating conversation.
It was nearly dinnertime when they finally reached the cave—the silvery reflection of the air bubble more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen in her whole life. If she could just drag herself onto the beach and change into legs, she could lie down without the currents trying to carry her away in her sleep.
A quick dinner, over which Rosie nearly fell asleep, failed to lessen the exhaustion that dragged at her bones. Almost before she could tell Robert “good night,” she fell asleep on the picnic blanket.
A/N: I love getting to see characters start to come into their own!
I’m still looking for a beta, so message me if you’re interested. And if you notice something that can be strengthened, please pass it along!
See you on Thursday 🙂
