The Deepest Blue(38)

But that didn’t mean their training had to be easy or pleasant.

“Your task today is to learn how to convince spirits that they haven’t seen you,” Sorka announced. “Sounds simple, right? Not so simple. You have to trick their minds. Believe it or not, that’s easier on intelligent spirits. Dumb spirits don’t bother analyzing what they see and hear, but intelligent spirits think like you and me. So how would you convince me I don’t see you?”

Mayara concentrated on the spirit in front of her, trying to dive into its mind. She pictured herself swimming and . . . There! Her vision split: she was looking both at the spirit and at . . . herself?

Through the eyes of the spirit, she saw an island woman in a practical wrap dress with leggings underneath. She’d chosen to wear the sturdy, water-resistant clothes Kelo had made her rather than the standard outfits the heir had provided them. She was clutching . . . what was she holding? A knife? But I’m not holding a knife.

And then the image of herself warped to be a picture of another woman: older, with hair down to her knees, wearing a seal-skin tunic and holding a knife. The spirit hated this woman. This woman had hurt it, and it wanted to hurt her in return.

I’m seeing a memory, Mayara realized.

The spirit was merging its memory of some other woman, maybe an heir or another spirit sister, with its vision of Mayara, transferring the old hate onto her. To this spirit, humans were interchangeable.

That gives me an idea . . .

She crafted a new image: a monkey, like the kind that lived deep in the island forests of Zanor. She’d seen one once, when a peddler had come through her village. He’d had it in a cage and was hoping to sell it as a curiosity. She’d wanted to free it, but her parents had said no, she couldn’t interfere. She shaped a picture in her mind exactly like that monkey, with silvery fur all over its body, and she pushed it into the spirit’s mind, in place of its image of her.

She felt the spirit’s confusion: it had seen the woman who’d hurt it! Now there was only this animal. But where had the hated spirit sister gone? It could still feel her power, pressing on its mind, but it couldn’t reconcile that with the monkey it thought it saw.

Mayara used its moment of confusion to slip away. She scrambled over the rocks and ducked down behind them, wedging herself in between. She felt the spirit drift away.

“Good job, Minnow!” Sorka hadn’t bothered to learn any of their names. She’d nicknamed Mayara “Minnow” as soon as she heard she liked to swim. Liking to swim wasn’t exactly a unique feature on the island, though. Several of the other women had also acquired fish nicknames.

At least none of us is Tuna. Or Flounder.

Or Chum.

She tried not to think about the fact that Sorka had picked the same pet name that Elorna had favored for Mayara.

Looking out from her hiding place, she saw Roe was in trouble. She’d gotten herself cornered by two ice spirits. Both of them were shaped like tiny dragons, and they were spitting shards of ice at her. Already she had blossoms of frost on her arms.

“Hey, Spirit Snack”—that was Sorka’s name for Roe—“you’re going to be an icicle if you don’t do something. Distract them! If you can’t convince them not to see you, then make them see something they want more than you.”

“I’m trying!” Roe said. “I c-c-can’t concentrate. I’m too c-c-cold!”

Without thinking, Mayara stepped out from her hiding place. “Send them to me!” She pushed her mind toward the two ice spirits. Come freeze me!

The two ice spirits pivoted and raced toward their tasty new target, and it occurred to Mayara that she hadn’t thought this through. She plunged her mind into theirs, trying to warp what they saw into making them think she was a fire spirit, the same way she made the water spirit see a monkey. She imagined flames and heat—

And they veered at the last minute, revolted by the nonexistent fire.

Yes, it worked!

She heaved a sigh of relief—and was encased in liquid. A bubble of water surrounded her, and she hadn’t taken in a full breath of air. It distorted the valley around her, making the rocks seem to shimmer. Frantically, she tried to push her way out of it, but it moved with her.

She heard a cackle in her mind.

Thought you’d escaped, the water spirit cooed. She heard its voice both in her head and in her ears, burbling through the water. But oh, no, I found you, you who hurt me, and now I will hurt you.

The terror was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It coursed through her, as if it ran through her veins instead of blood. It permeated every thought. No, no, no!

Mayara tried to run, but the bubble clung to her. She felt her lungs begin to burn. Familiar black dots danced over her eyes. Roe was there, reaching into the water, and then inside it with her. Mayara saw her own terror mirrored in Roe’s eyes as they both fought to break free.

And then the bubble burst.

Mayara collapsed onto her knees, with Roe gasping beside her.

“I can’t do this,” Mayara said. She still felt the terror thrumming through her. Can’t, can’t, can’t. “One I can handle. If I’m lucky. But on the island . . . there will be hundreds. You should find a different team.”

“You saved me just now,” Roe pointed out.

“And then failed us both.” Mayara flopped backward, looking for who had saved them, and saw two of the Silent Ones corralling the water spirit. They saved us. She wondered if she was supposed to feel grateful, knowing they’d been saved only because it was too soon for them to die. We have to wait and die in the right place, at the right time.