In their travels, they stumbled across a tropical island abundant with coconuts, crabs, and colorful shells. They stopped to scavenge supplies, collect trinkets, and play in the ocean. Daniel loved the smell of salty water, the heat of the sand, the breadth of blue sky, the strong wind on his face, and the bright sun on his back.
Cassie zipped by, tousling his hair with the wind in her wake. Somehow, her exuberance here exceeded her first day of free flight. She spun high into a steep dive at the ocean, pulling up at the brink, so the crests of the waves licked her belly. Then she took a hard turn, dipping the tip of her wing in the water, leveled off, then flipped head-over-leg-hands, and exploded up again with a powerful flap.
The bat girl wore a streamlined black one-piece swimsuit. Sea breezes blew her dark hair wild, revealing bright sonar-ping black eyes. She grinned, her little fangs catching the light. Daniel found himself smiling back.
Then he caught an odd thought—for an instant, he’d felt Cassie’s happiness strange. Daniel understood her celebrating after they escaped Eastwood, but it’d been a night, a day, and a half since then. People often adjusted to a new status quo quickly.
Her acrobatics didn’t seem to be showing off; she’d do her tricks regardless of who or how many looked. The others didn’t appear overawed by the display. The novelty must have long since worn off for her. Was it so inconceivable to accept she enjoyed flying without a caveat?
What had he been expecting? Did he think she’d mope around, ride on people’s backs, and complain the whole trip? Then Daniel realized the extent his first impression of her—a crying, screaming, angry girl—had affected him. Mary told him about this kind of cognitive bias in judging other people, what she called a ‘fundamental attribution error.’
This happens when you mistakenly attribute someone’s actions to their personality instead of considering their circumstances. Cassie was trapped and weak and scared when they met. While Daniel felt safe and cared for at the Facility until being ripped from his comfort zone in the last hour, Cassie suffered for three years, unable to do what she loved most.
He imagined not being able to play chess for three years. No, it was more like not being allowed to walk for three years. He couldn’t fully picture himself in that state, except he’d certainly be cranky and easily agitated.
Maybe this was Cassie’s ‘normal.’
She’d rejected his conciliatory attempts on the day of their escape and distanced herself from him through words and body language. If his episode of being possessed by Perses frightened her, it fell to Daniel to clear the air between them.
:Hey, Cassie.:
:Daniel?: Her wingbeats stuttered in flight; the bat girl startled at his unexpected hail. Cassie may think of him as having a dangerous side, like Wendi’s sadistic alter-ego. Her mental ‘tone’ was guarded while attempting geniality, :H-hey, what’s up?:
He hoped this topic was not too invasive, :I don’t think I understand your magic. Can you explain it to me?: In general, people love to talk about themselves. Bonus points for his curiosity being genuine.
Relief crossed her features, and then she pondered, :Hmm…: She gave him a mischievous smile, :Tell me a secret about yourself, first.:
:A secret?:
:Yeah, friends are people who know each other’s secrets.:
Biting the bullet, he took a deep breath, though he didn’t have to speak. :Back in Eastwood, when I faced UE 000, I accidentally called my Progenitor, Perses. Being possessed was the most terrifying experience of my life. The loss of control… In the end, I couldn’t let him hurt Mary. If not for her, I’d have lost myself. Lost everything:
When he finished, his anxiety uncoiled, and he breathed easier. Having talked to someone about this felt amazing, after the fact. He waited as she flew circles in silence.
Then she replied, sounding uncomfortable, :Wow. Uh, Daniel, you didn’t have to do that. I’d have accepted your favorite color or something. I mean, that’s heavy. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try doing it justice. Okay… I can fly.: She did an aileron roll like a shrug.
Daniel could work with that. :What’s it like to fly on your own wings?: How different would it feel from riding as a passenger?
Cassie’s smile dazzled. :It’s pretty much the best thing ever, you should try it sometime.: He laughed. Her grin fell away. :I’m serious.:
Then he remembered his mother and her wings. A brief stab of sadness, weaker this time, then other thoughts came, :I don’t think I can.:
:Then you never will.: Her words startled him. :Not with that attitude. You don’t get wings by studying or training. You can’t ‘will’ yourself off the ground.: She talked about wings like they were sacred. :When you get them, you won’t be thinking about them—you’ll simply want something so much your heart sprouts wings to catch it.:
After a beat, he managed an awkward, :Sounds difficult.:
Cassie nodded. :Learning to fly is something you do on your own. Even fledglings get kicked out of the nest. Although, I’ll be happy to give you pointers once you’ve found your wings.: She chuckled over the link.
Pleased with their progress, Daniel gave a follow-up question, :And you hear the future?:
:I hear all sorts of things when I Listen. Distant sounds, radio signals, and yes, the ‘future’ as if that’s special. They’re plenty of Clairs that predict things.:
:You didn’t expect my sending.:
She harrumphed. :What I Hear are the echoes of possible futures. The more likely the event, the clearer it sounds.:
Daniel contemplated the chances of him having started this conversation. :So, you hear the most probable future?:
:It’s a bit more complicated than that. What I hear depends on how intently I’m Listening and what I’m Listening for. Regardless of my focus, I always hear life-or-death events as a survival instinct.: Find this striking similarity between their abilities intrigued Daniel, both having active elements and passive defenses. :Whether or not some guy messages me doesn’t rank high on my threat-o-meter.:
Daniel had to chuckle—it’s good to be able to laugh at oneself.
:And, it has limits. You were wavering on whether or not to talk to me, and that indecision kept me from predicting it. Tiny variables that prompt sudden choices are my white noise. Their interference scrambles all but the biggest events a few seconds into the future. Also, my ‘survival instinct’ isn’t very helpful in solving the problems it happily presents.:
:What do you mean?:
:Don’t worry about it.:
She’d shut him down. He’d have to change topics to continue. :What about turning into a giant bat? Is that difficult?:
:No, I can do the bat thing whenever I want.: With a flare of aura, her body morphed before his eyes from girl to animal. Except, this wasn’t a tiny insectivore or the enormous version of the same. Cassie neither gained nor lost mass but shifted into an eighty-pound bat. :It’s the ‘giant’ part that’s exhausting. And… Rana’s reminding me not to demonstrate.:
She returned to humanoid. :I belong to a race of Therianthropes—Shifters specializing in a type of animal. I sink a lot of power into my body to grow bigger. Holding that size takes a heavy toll.:
Another thought occurred to Daniel, :If you couldn’t carry us for long, why not use your sonic shout to stop the helicopters from chasing us when we escaped Eastwood?:
She shook her head. :The size increase amplifies my other abilities, like speed… and Noise Blast. If I weighed, say, ten times larger, the blast would be ten times as powerful and cost ten times as much magic. So, besides definitely killing the pilots, the immense expense could drain me into a coma lasting anywhere from days to years.:
Daniel’s blood chilled. :That can happen?:
:Yes. Anyone who uses their magic without rest or relief can knock themselves unconscious, so don’t push yourself too far.: A sobering lesson to remember. :Hold on, Daniel, I need to take care of something.:
Lea strolled the beach in a dark blue off-shoulder one-piece swimsuit with white fringed ruffles and skirt, admiring the beautiful shells, when Cassie swung low over the waves to splash her with water. “Again?” the libra girl shouted, suppressing a smile as Cassie laughed and flew away, “But can you escape me twice?”
Her caramboles whirled over the ocean, enlarging until their collective pull siphoned liquid into a waterspout. The fountain spray followed the bat girl—though always a step behind Cassie’s swerves and dives. Their path crossed Wendi, busy splashing around in the shallows. The red devil girl swatted the nearest black orb with a playful giggle.
The careening carambole bounced off of Kenta’s hair, and then the four of them were in a full-on splashing war.
Kenta kept dry with the naturally water-proof oils in his hair. He glided above the water on thousands of strands, using surface tension to spread his weight over a vast area. His idea of beachwear was a white button-down and black shorts.
Daniel and Paul watched the others’ fun, both self-conscious, both feeling left out. They looked at each other, from boney to stout, and nodded. In unison, they shifted their raiments to swim trunks and waded into the water. Daniel pulled his drawstrings extra tight, and Paul built up the wax around his flame into a protective wall.
With a friend at his side, Daniel braved the shallows despite the looming specter of his near-drowning. Though he couldn’t swim, Daniel cut through knee deep water a run. He pushed through the bubbling water around him like a thick fog.
The ocean behind him erupted in a geyser. When he could see again, he found Wendi wading next to him, laughing. She wore a light blue tankini with a pleasing color gradient and swim boyshorts. Daniel averted his eyes from her chest and shrugged. “You got me.”
Her giggling subsided, and she asked, “Why aren’t you swimming, Daniel? It’s fun!”
“I can’t swim.”
“How can you know if you’ve never tried?” She pushed Daniel into deep water. He sank like a stone, but a large red hand grabbed his arm before he hit bottom. Wendi dangled him above the waves as Daniel coughed on dust he’d swallowed as seawater. “Wow, you sink fast!”
“Please don’t kill Daniel,” Paul deadpanned.
Wendi grinned at the candle boy and rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t let him drown!” Then she turned to Daniel with a serious expression as the devil girl deposited him in shallow water. “You really can’t swim… That’s super sad!”
“Well,” he coughed again, “You can’t miss what you don’t know.”
“Want me to swim for you?” she said with sympathy.
“Sure, Wendi.” He’d agree with anything to extricate himself from the conversation. “Swim for me.”
She gave a reverent nod, turned around, bent backward towards Daniel, grabbed his hands, put them on her horns, straightened to pull him flush against her spine, and dove into the ocean.
Daniel knew Wendi was strong. However, he hadn’t comprehended how strong. Wendi swam with the butterfly stroke.
After a brief acceleration, they were practically a skipping stone on the water. When the panic dimmed, and he started having fun, Daniel realized he could pull left or right on her horns to steer like a jet ski. Cassie flew beside them and screamed joy.
Besides being strong, Wendi didn’t tire. The ride became relaxing after a few minutes, and Wendi never got bored. She did have another suggestion, though, “Hey… Daniel…” she said between strokes.
“Yes?”
“Can… I… dive…?”
“Sure.” Daniel held his breath. He’d already put his life in her hands, so why not?
The Capricorn girl plunged beneath the surface and swam almost as fast underwater. This far from shore, the water became crystal clear. Daniel saw a riot of color as schools of fish flashed by; they were on the edge of a coral reef.
Wendi touched the bottom, and Daniel pulled back on her horns to remind her he couldn’t breathe. She shot straight up, gaining speed, each stroke of her great hands surging them forward until they breached in a stomach-lurching jump high enough for Cassie to zoom under their arc. They crashed down whooping and hollering.
They had to do that twice more before Wendi would hear otherwise.
Cruising underwater at a relaxed pace, Daniel saw a glow he thought must be an exotic fish until he blinked. Then, eyes closed, he saw it with his Second Sight. Frantic, he pulled Wendi’s horns to get her attention and steer them to shore. A massive cloud of sand pursued them through the water.
They scrambled onto the beach. “What is that?” Daniel said when he caught his breath. The others rallied to fighting stances as a huge shape rose from the waves. A giant crab eight feet tall scuttled onto the beach. “Is it a person?”
The crab dispelled all tension by ignoring them to shovel clumps of wet sand into its maw.
“I guess not…” Paul shrugged and lowered his hands.
“Then what could it be?” Lea mused.
The creature dropped a ball of sand the size of a wrecking ball and rolled it away with a few spare legs, its claws never ceasing to fill its mouth with fresh sand.
“Sand-bubbler crab!” Daniel gesticulated in excitement as he recalled the animal’s name.
“I think it’s friendly!” Wendi fearlessly patted the crab’s side. The creature continued to ignore them. “It likes me.”
“Where gods once did tread
The land their steps remember
And we all must dread”
Daniel remembered Rana after hours of not missing her as she spoke, her mind-affecting Camouflage dismissed. The frog girl had stayed on the sidelines, knees tucked to her chest under a tall palm tree. She hadn’t changed into swimwear.
Kenta nodded, “It must have absorbed the remnant magic of a powerful Wildling to grow this large.”
“Look at the beach!” Paul pointed. They turned to see thousands of tiny crabs surfacing from burrows as the tide went out. Within minutes, the crabs crowded the beach with miniature sand balls.
“They are not dangerous,” Lea said, “Which explains why Paul took us this way. Although, why did Cassie not say anything as the creature approached?”
The bat girl landed and gave a halfhearted apology. “I guess I can’t Hear underwater so well.”
“Next time, it’ll be a giant shark, and we’ll be down two,” Rana said without getting up. She didn’t sound angry or accusing. “We’re definitely going to die out here.”
Lea disregarded the comment. “In any case, we shall have to be more careful next time. Today, the situation remains tolerably safe. We can all return to relaxing as we prefer.”
The others split up. Wendi tried to play with the giant crab.
Daniel took a blunt approach. :Rana, why not join us?:
She sent back, :I’m recovering vitality. Frogs can’t survive in saltwater and don’t do well on dry sand. I’ll keep to the shade.: At least she’d stopped disguising her presence.
They finished swimming in no mood to get back on the road, so the group stopped for the day. They spent the rest of their time hunting and gathering. Kenta wove his hair into a net and, after a particularly impressively haul of fish, informed them with a smile, “The Kaminoke were made for the hunt.”
Wendi conceded the big crab didn’t want to play and switched to hunting shells. She picked the most interesting and delicate specimens to decorate a huge sandcastle. She had the spirit of a child in a sweet way that also saddened Daniel. She’d lost so much time to her trauma-triggered amnesia.
The red devil girl was ripping open coconuts to drink the milk when Daniel walked by and mentioned off-hand, “Rana sure looks thirsty.”
This revelation shocked the Caprid girl, who hadn’t overlooked her friend’s quiet gloom on purpose. Daniel pretended interest in a game of catch between Paul, Cassie, and Lea using one of their stolen beach balls. He stood at a distance where he could safely watch.
Rana seemed distracted as Wendi approached, likely in a private conversation. The advancing afternoon sun ate her shade. The frog girl seemed withered; her limbs crammed into the palm tree’s last sliver of shrinking shadow. She counted miserable seconds eyeing the nearest shelter across blistering sands.
Daniel spotted a suppressed jump of alarm when Wendi lowered half a coconut into her field of vision. After hesitating, she accepted the drink and took a sip. Wendi sat next to Rana and, oblivious to any concept of personal space, put an arm around the frog girl to hold her close. Then Wendi raised the other hand to shield them both from the sun like an umbrella.
He couldn’t hear their words, but Rana didn’t pull away as the two of them talked. Eventually, Wendi dozed off, somehow locking her umbrella hand in position while unconscious. As Wendi’s head lolled onto the frog girl’s shoulder, Rana’s searching eyes found Daniel. He looked away. The two girls stayed like that as the beach cooled off, though Rana never fell asleep.
It became a lazy day. While Kenta fished, Cassie kited on the breeze, Lea picked coconuts en masse with gravitational force, and Paul combed the beach for interesting shells with Daniel.
In all the beaches he’d seen on television, the sand ran smooth and golden and bare. Those were tourist beaches. Untold years had passed since the last person saw this shore. The shells piled layer over layer in every shape and size and color imaginable. He walked in the sandiest places, avoiding crabs, and helped point out the best shells for Paul to take.
They chatted about their time in the Eastwood Facility, Mary, and memories of their early years. Noting Paul looked tired, Daniel suggested they cut their walk short.
The candle boy replied, “No, no, this is fun. I just didn’t get enough sleep. Bad dreams. I’ll hit the hay early tonight.”
When the sun fell beyond the horizon, and everyone sat around the fire, the two of them presented their finest treasures. It never ceased to fascinate Daniel how Wendi plucked even the most petit and fragile spiny shells, starfish, and sea urchins without breaking them. She would grin and turn the shell, admiring it, then exchange it for another.
With her caramboles, Lea floated the shells by her face for inspection, swiping a finger to page through them. She gravitated to a grand fanlike scallop shell, impressive in its unmarred size and unique coloring. Kenta took one, though perhaps in irony, as it was a comb shell.
Meanwhile, Cassie watched from a distance until she grinned as one caught her attention. “Can I have this one?”
“Sure,” Paul said.
Cassie took the spiral-shelled conch with a leg-hand and held it to her ear. Excited, she bade Rana lean over and put the shell to the frog girl’s ear next.
In their travels, they stumbled across a tropical island abundant with coconuts, crabs, and colorful shells. They stopped to scavenge supplies, collect trinkets, and play in the ocean. Daniel loved the smell of salty water, the heat of the sand, the breadth of blue sky, the strong wind on his face, and the bright sun on his back.
Cassie zipped by, tousling his hair with the wind in her wake. Somehow, her exuberance here exceeded her first day of free flight. She spun high into a steep dive at the ocean, pulling up at the brink, so the crests of the waves licked her belly. Then she took a hard turn, dipping the tip of her wing in the water, leveled off, then flipped head-over-leg-hands, and exploded up again with a powerful flap.
The bat girl wore a streamlined black one-piece swimsuit. Sea breezes blew her dark hair wild, revealing bright sonar-ping black eyes. She grinned, her little fangs catching the light. Daniel found himself smiling back.
Then he caught an odd thought—for an instant, he’d felt Cassie’s happiness strange. Daniel understood her celebrating after they escaped Eastwood, but it’d been a night, a day, and a half since then. People often adjusted to a new status quo quickly.
Her acrobatics didn’t seem to be showing off; she’d do her tricks regardless of who or how many looked. The others didn’t appear overawed by the display. The novelty must have long since worn off for her. Was it so inconceivable to accept she enjoyed flying without a caveat?
What had he been expecting? Did he think she’d mope around, ride on people’s backs, and complain the whole trip? Then Daniel realized the extent his first impression of her—a crying, screaming, angry girl—had affected him. Mary told him about this kind of cognitive bias in judging other people, what she called a ‘fundamental attribution error.’
This happens when you mistakenly attribute someone’s actions to their personality instead of considering their circumstances. Cassie was trapped and weak and scared when they met. While Daniel felt safe and cared for at the Facility until being ripped from his comfort zone in the last hour, Cassie suffered for three years, unable to do what she loved most.
He imagined not being able to play chess for three years. No, it was more like not being allowed to walk for three years. He couldn’t fully picture himself in that state, except he’d certainly be cranky and easily agitated.
Maybe this was Cassie’s ‘normal.’
She’d rejected his conciliatory attempts on the day of their escape and distanced herself from him through words and body language. If his episode of being possessed by Perses frightened her, it fell to Daniel to clear the air between them.
:Hey, Cassie.:
:Daniel?: Her wingbeats stuttered in flight; the bat girl startled at his unexpected hail. Cassie may think of him as having a dangerous side, like Wendi’s sadistic alter-ego. Her mental ‘tone’ was guarded while attempting geniality, :H-hey, what’s up?:
He hoped this topic was not too invasive, :I don’t think I understand your magic. Can you explain it to me?: In general, people love to talk about themselves. Bonus points for his curiosity being genuine.
Relief crossed her features, and then she pondered, :Hmm…: She gave him a mischievous smile, :Tell me a secret about yourself, first.:
:A secret?:
:Yeah, friends are people who know each other’s secrets.:
Biting the bullet, he took a deep breath, though he didn’t have to speak. :Back in Eastwood, when I faced UE 000, I accidentally called my Progenitor, Perses. Being possessed was the most terrifying experience of my life. The loss of control… In the end, I couldn’t let him hurt Mary. If not for her, I’d have lost myself. Lost everything:
When he finished, his anxiety uncoiled, and he breathed easier. Having talked to someone about this felt amazing, after the fact. He waited as she flew circles in silence.
Then she replied, sounding uncomfortable, :Wow. Uh, Daniel, you didn’t have to do that. I’d have accepted your favorite color or something. I mean, that’s heavy. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try doing it justice. Okay… I can fly.: She did an aileron roll like a shrug.
Daniel could work with that. :What’s it like to fly on your own wings?: How different would it feel from riding as a passenger?
Cassie’s smile dazzled. :It’s pretty much the best thing ever, you should try it sometime.: He laughed. Her grin fell away. :I’m serious.:
Then he remembered his mother and her wings. A brief stab of sadness, weaker this time, then other thoughts came, :I don’t think I can.:
:Then you never will.: Her words startled him. :Not with that attitude. You don’t get wings by studying or training. You can’t ‘will’ yourself off the ground.: She talked about wings like they were sacred. :When you get them, you won’t be thinking about them—you’ll simply want something so much your heart sprouts wings to catch it.:
After a beat, he managed an awkward, :Sounds difficult.:
Cassie nodded. :Learning to fly is something you do on your own. Even fledglings get kicked out of the nest. Although, I’ll be happy to give you pointers once you’ve found your wings.: She chuckled over the link.
Pleased with their progress, Daniel gave a follow-up question, :And you hear the future?:
:I hear all sorts of things when I Listen. Distant sounds, radio signals, and yes, the ‘future’ as if that’s special. They’re plenty of Clairs that predict things.:
:You didn’t expect my sending.:
She harrumphed. :What I Hear are the echoes of possible futures. The more likely the event, the clearer it sounds.:
Daniel contemplated the chances of him having started this conversation. :So, you hear the most probable future?:
:It’s a bit more complicated than that. What I hear depends on how intently I’m Listening and what I’m Listening for. Regardless of my focus, I always hear life-or-death events as a survival instinct.: Find this striking similarity between their abilities intrigued Daniel, both having active elements and passive defenses. :Whether or not some guy messages me doesn’t rank high on my threat-o-meter.:
Daniel had to chuckle—it’s good to be able to laugh at oneself.
:And, it has limits. You were wavering on whether or not to talk to me, and that indecision kept me from predicting it. Tiny variables that prompt sudden choices are my white noise. Their interference scrambles all but the biggest events a few seconds into the future. Also, my ‘survival instinct’ isn’t very helpful in solving the problems it happily presents.:
:What do you mean?:
:Don’t worry about it.:
She’d shut him down. He’d have to change topics to continue. :What about turning into a giant bat? Is that difficult?:
:No, I can do the bat thing whenever I want.: With a flare of aura, her body morphed before his eyes from girl to animal. Except, this wasn’t a tiny insectivore or the enormous version of the same. Cassie neither gained nor lost mass but shifted into an eighty-pound bat. :It’s the ‘giant’ part that’s exhausting. And… Rana’s reminding me not to demonstrate.:
She returned to humanoid. :I belong to a race of Therianthropes—Shifters specializing in a type of animal. I sink a lot of power into my body to grow bigger. Holding that size takes a heavy toll.:
Another thought occurred to Daniel, :If you couldn’t carry us for long, why not use your sonic shout to stop the helicopters from chasing us when we escaped Eastwood?:
She shook her head. :The size increase amplifies my other abilities, like speed… and Noise Blast. If I weighed, say, ten times larger, the blast would be ten times as powerful and cost ten times as much magic. So, besides definitely killing the pilots, the immense expense could drain me into a coma lasting anywhere from days to years.:
Daniel’s blood chilled. :That can happen?:
:Yes. Anyone who uses their magic without rest or relief can knock themselves unconscious, so don’t push yourself too far.: A sobering lesson to remember. :Hold on, Daniel, I need to take care of something.:
Lea strolled the beach in a dark blue off-shoulder one-piece swimsuit with white fringed ruffles and skirt, admiring the beautiful shells, when Cassie swung low over the waves to splash her with water. “Again?” the libra girl shouted, suppressing a smile as Cassie laughed and flew away, “But can you escape me twice?”
Her caramboles whirled over the ocean, enlarging until their collective pull siphoned liquid into a waterspout. The fountain spray followed the bat girl—though always a step behind Cassie’s swerves and dives. Their path crossed Wendi, busy splashing around in the shallows. The red devil girl swatted the nearest black orb with a playful giggle.
The careening carambole bounced off of Kenta’s hair, and then the four of them were in a full-on splashing war.
Kenta kept dry with the naturally water-proof oils in his hair. He glided above the water on thousands of strands, using surface tension to spread his weight over a vast area. His idea of beachwear was a white button-down and black shorts.
Daniel and Paul watched the others’ fun, both self-conscious, both feeling left out. They looked at each other, from boney to stout, and nodded. In unison, they shifted their raiments to swim trunks and waded into the water. Daniel pulled his drawstrings extra tight, and Paul built up the wax around his flame into a protective wall.
With a friend at his side, Daniel braved the shallows despite the looming specter of his near-drowning. Though he couldn’t swim, Daniel cut through knee deep water a run. He pushed through the bubbling water around him like a thick fog.
The ocean behind him erupted in a geyser. When he could see again, he found Wendi wading next to him, laughing. She wore a light blue tankini with a pleasing color gradient and swim boyshorts. Daniel averted his eyes from her chest and shrugged. “You got me.”
Her giggling subsided, and she asked, “Why aren’t you swimming, Daniel? It’s fun!”
“I can’t swim.”
“How can you know if you’ve never tried?” She pushed Daniel into deep water. He sank like a stone, but a large red hand grabbed his arm before he hit bottom. Wendi dangled him above the waves as Daniel coughed on dust he’d swallowed as seawater. “Wow, you sink fast!”
“Please don’t kill Daniel,” Paul deadpanned.
Wendi grinned at the candle boy and rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t let him drown!” Then she turned to Daniel with a serious expression as the devil girl deposited him in shallow water. “You really can’t swim… That’s super sad!”
“Well,” he coughed again, “You can’t miss what you don’t know.”
“Want me to swim for you?” she said with sympathy.
“Sure, Wendi.” He’d agree with anything to extricate himself from the conversation. “Swim for me.”
She gave a reverent nod, turned around, bent backward towards Daniel, grabbed his hands, put them on her horns, straightened to pull him flush against her spine, and dove into the ocean.
Daniel knew Wendi was strong. However, he hadn’t comprehended how strong. Wendi swam with the butterfly stroke.
After a brief acceleration, they were practically a skipping stone on the water. When the panic dimmed, and he started having fun, Daniel realized he could pull left or right on her horns to steer like a jet ski. Cassie flew beside them and screamed joy.
Besides being strong, Wendi didn’t tire. The ride became relaxing after a few minutes, and Wendi never got bored. She did have another suggestion, though, “Hey… Daniel…” she said between strokes.
“Yes?”
“Can… I… dive…?”
“Sure.” Daniel held his breath. He’d already put his life in her hands, so why not?
The Capricorn girl plunged beneath the surface and swam almost as fast underwater. This far from shore, the water became crystal clear. Daniel saw a riot of color as schools of fish flashed by; they were on the edge of a coral reef.
Wendi touched the bottom, and Daniel pulled back on her horns to remind her he couldn’t breathe. She shot straight up, gaining speed, each stroke of her great hands surging them forward until they breached in a stomach-lurching jump high enough for Cassie to zoom under their arc. They crashed down whooping and hollering.
They had to do that twice more before Wendi would hear otherwise.
Cruising underwater at a relaxed pace, Daniel saw a glow he thought must be an exotic fish until he blinked. Then, eyes closed, he saw it with his Second Sight. Frantic, he pulled Wendi’s horns to get her attention and steer them to shore. A massive cloud of sand pursued them through the water.
They scrambled onto the beach. “What is that?” Daniel said when he caught his breath. The others rallied to fighting stances as a huge shape rose from the waves. A giant crab eight feet tall scuttled onto the beach. “Is it a person?”
The crab dispelled all tension by ignoring them to shovel clumps of wet sand into its maw.
“I guess not…” Paul shrugged and lowered his hands.
“Then what could it be?” Lea mused.
The creature dropped a ball of sand the size of a wrecking ball and rolled it away with a few spare legs, its claws never ceasing to fill its mouth with fresh sand.
“Sand-bubbler crab!” Daniel gesticulated in excitement as he recalled the animal’s name.
“I think it’s friendly!” Wendi fearlessly patted the crab’s side. The creature continued to ignore them. “It likes me.”
“Where gods once did tread
The land their steps remember
And we all must dread”
Daniel remembered Rana after hours of not missing her as she spoke, her mind-affecting Camouflage dismissed. The frog girl had stayed on the sidelines, knees tucked to her chest under a tall palm tree. She hadn’t changed into swimwear.
Kenta nodded, “It must have absorbed the remnant magic of a powerful Wildling to grow this large.”
“Look at the beach!” Paul pointed. They turned to see thousands of tiny crabs surfacing from burrows as the tide went out. Within minutes, the crabs crowded the beach with miniature sand balls.
“They are not dangerous,” Lea said, “Which explains why Paul took us this way. Although, why did Cassie not say anything as the creature approached?”
The bat girl landed and gave a halfhearted apology. “I guess I can’t Hear underwater so well.”
“Next time, it’ll be a giant shark, and we’ll be down two,” Rana said without getting up. She didn’t sound angry or accusing. “We’re definitely going to die out here.”
Lea disregarded the comment. “In any case, we shall have to be more careful next time. Today, the situation remains tolerably safe. We can all return to relaxing as we prefer.”
The others split up. Wendi tried to play with the giant crab.
Daniel took a blunt approach. :Rana, why not join us?:
She sent back, :I’m recovering vitality. Frogs can’t survive in saltwater and don’t do well on dry sand. I’ll keep to the shade.: At least she’d stopped disguising her presence.
They finished swimming in no mood to get back on the road, so the group stopped for the day. They spent the rest of their time hunting and gathering. Kenta wove his hair into a net and, after a particularly impressively haul of fish, informed them with a smile, “The Kaminoke were made for the hunt.”
Wendi conceded the big crab didn’t want to play and switched to hunting shells. She picked the most interesting and delicate specimens to decorate a huge sandcastle. She had the spirit of a child in a sweet way that also saddened Daniel. She’d lost so much time to her trauma-triggered amnesia.
The red devil girl was ripping open coconuts to drink the milk when Daniel walked by and mentioned off-hand, “Rana sure looks thirsty.”
This revelation shocked the Caprid girl, who hadn’t overlooked her friend’s quiet gloom on purpose. Daniel pretended interest in a game of catch between Paul, Cassie, and Lea using one of their stolen beach balls. He stood at a distance where he could safely watch.
Rana seemed distracted as Wendi approached, likely in a private conversation. The advancing afternoon sun ate her shade. The frog girl seemed withered; her limbs crammed into the palm tree’s last sliver of shrinking shadow. She counted miserable seconds eyeing the nearest shelter across blistering sands.
Daniel spotted a suppressed jump of alarm when Wendi lowered half a coconut into her field of vision. After hesitating, she accepted the drink and took a sip. Wendi sat next to Rana and, oblivious to any concept of personal space, put an arm around the frog girl to hold her close. Then Wendi raised the other hand to shield them both from the sun like an umbrella.
He couldn’t hear their words, but Rana didn’t pull away as the two of them talked. Eventually, Wendi dozed off, somehow locking her umbrella hand in position while unconscious. As Wendi’s head lolled onto the frog girl’s shoulder, Rana’s searching eyes found Daniel. He looked away. The two girls stayed like that as the beach cooled off, though Rana never fell asleep.
It became a lazy day. While Kenta fished, Cassie kited on the breeze, Lea picked coconuts en masse with gravitational force, and Paul combed the beach for interesting shells with Daniel.
In all the beaches he’d seen on television, the sand ran smooth and golden and bare. Those were tourist beaches. Untold years had passed since the last person saw this shore. The shells piled layer over layer in every shape and size and color imaginable. He walked in the sandiest places, avoiding crabs, and helped point out the best shells for Paul to take.
They chatted about their time in the Eastwood Facility, Mary, and memories of their early years. Noting Paul looked tired, Daniel suggested they cut their walk short.
The candle boy replied, “No, no, this is fun. I just didn’t get enough sleep. Bad dreams. I’ll hit the hay early tonight.”
When the sun fell beyond the horizon, and everyone sat around the fire, the two of them presented their finest treasures. It never ceased to fascinate Daniel how Wendi plucked even the most petit and fragile spiny shells, starfish, and sea urchins without breaking them. She would grin and turn the shell, admiring it, then exchange it for another.
With her caramboles, Lea floated the shells by her face for inspection, swiping a finger to page through them. She gravitated to a grand fanlike scallop shell, impressive in its unmarred size and unique coloring. Kenta took one, though perhaps in irony, as it was a comb shell.
Meanwhile, Cassie watched from a distance until she grinned as one caught her attention. “Can I have this one?”
“Sure,” Paul said.
Cassie took the spiral-shelled conch with a leg-hand and held it to her ear. Excited, she bade Rana lean over and put the shell to the frog girl’s ear next.
