Her last thought as she struggled to breathe was the realization she was drowning.
The first noise Trynne discerned was the sound of a seagull. Her clothes were drenched and she felt the sucking of the sand as a gentle wave lapped across her, lifting her slightly and then settling her back down. The water was so cool against the fire burning on her leg. She couldn’t move, although she tried. Her entire body was paralyzed. The webbed feet of the seagull pattered up to her and she thought drowsily that it might start pecking her hair.
“I found her!”
The voice was garbled through the seawater still in her ears.
She heard the slapping noise of boots against the wet sand and then suddenly two sets of arms were pulling her away from the clutch of the sea. Her head drooped low, her hair thick with sand. She felt the particles everywhere, but she couldn’t budge. The poison was doing what the water could not. Killing her. She felt every heartbeat, for each one was shuddering in her chest as her heart gave out. Was she even breathing? Could she breathe?
“It’s Lady Trynne! We found her!”
She wanted to speak, but could not so much as grunt. She’d never felt so exhausted, so drained. Her Fountain magic was empty, completely empty.
“Bring her here. Come now, over here.” It was Myrddin’s voice.
“She’s not breathing,” someone said.
“Look at all the blood. Is she even alive?”
“Of course she’s alive,” Myrddin crooned. “Have you ever heard of a Fountain-blessed drowning, eh? Don’t be a pethet, of course she’s alive. Bring her here.”
Her heart was beating painfully. The pain in her arm and her leg was so intense she wanted to cry out.
“There, there, little sister. All will be well. All is well. Lay her down.”
She saw the sun in the sky. She tried to blink but could not. The worried faces of several of her people passed before her gaze.
“She’s dead,” one of them whimpered.
“She’s not dead,” Myrddin said. “She’s only asleep.” Then he bent over her and she saw his face, saw the gentleness in his look, the admiration. He gazed down at her tenderly. The sun was just beyond his thick dark hair.
Her heart stopped. She felt herself moving toward the light beyond Myrddin, but a single word stopped her flight.
“Nesh-ama.”
All the pain, all the weariness vanished. She felt tingling all over her body. The burning fire from her wounds vanished, replaced by tender skin. She took in a breath of air and it tasted delicious. The smells of eucalyptus, of seafoam, of oysters filled her senses. Trynne stared up at Myrddin, saw him leaning back from her with a smile on his face.
“There, lass,” he whispered. “You’ll be mending now.”
She saw him stuff some shriveled green moss into a pouch at his waist.
The voices whispered with reverence around her. “She’s alive!”
“She’s alive!” “Tell Thierry. Quickly!”
Somehow they had been saved. Her people had not been drowned after all.
Myrddin grasped his crooked staff and winced as he tried to rise. He was clearly weak, the battle must have drained him considerably, but he still managed to make it to his feet. Gripping his staff, he reached down and caught her hand and helped pull her to her feet.
She was on the beach of sea glass. It had been restored to its previous state—the bones of Leoneyis hidden again beneath the waters—and the very familiarity made her gasp with relief.
“I thought . . . I thought the flood,” she managed. It still felt new and difficult to breathe again.
Myrddin cocked his head and looked at her curiously. “You thought what, little sister?” She could almost feel him reading her mind, plucking out her thoughts like one would harvest ripe berries.
“That the Fountain would abandon the people who were always faithful to it? Look around you, lass. The beach is crowded. Yet the people follow the covenant, only removing one chest a year. They honor the Fountain not just with their hands, but with their hearts.”
He tapped his chest with a cluster of fingers. “And so the Fountain honors them. It honors you.”
“But the Leerings,” Trynne said, confused. “They were all destroyed.”
He gave her a knowing smile. “And who do you think, lass, who do you think put those Leerings there in the first place? Who put them there before he was trapped in a stone cave and banished to another world?” He wagged his bushy eyebrows at her. “This beach is sacred because it is a reminder of what happens when a people forsakes the Fountain. It will now be a reminder that the Fountain can be a great protector as well. Look,” he said, chuffing, shaking his head. “So meek. I don’t see that in every world. They want to see you, little sister. They know that you saved them.”