BOOK 5: CHAPTER 21: JUST THE THING

Maria took a deep breath of the damp air trapped beneath the canopy. It was cold against her throat and settled heavy in her chest. Evenings in the vast forest beyond the western mountains were always rather bland, especially when compared with the vibrant colors, cheerful birdsong, and droning insects so prevalent during daylight hours.

As they got closer to their destination, however, it grew even more bland than usual.

The haunting hoots of the occasional owl vanished entirely. The unseen crickets, who usually only ceased their chirping when one strode nearby, were nowhere to be seen. Even the wind had disappeared, as if it too were fearful of the clearing ahead.

Maria and her two crustacean companions, however, were more excited than scared. The closer they got, the more they fidgeted, their nervous energy growing. The lady lobster scuttling along between Pistachio and Maria was particularly intrigued. Her antennae waved about, tasting the surrounding air in search of what caused the forest’s critters to flee.

Taking another breath, the moisture-laden oxygen filling her lungs, Maria cast a glance at Pistachio, only to find him glaring back in accusation. She averted her gaze and stared up through gaps in the canopy, using the crescent moon above as a grounding force to stop herself from chortling.

Touche, Pistachio. Touche.

Slimes hummed in her core. “He’s leaning into his annoyance at you to distract himself from his own infatuation.”

“He is. It’s quite brilliant, really… but there’s a hole in his defense.” She locked eyes with the massive lobster again, and rather than run from his accusatory stare, she accepted the gambit, waggling her brows suggestively.

He missed so many steps that he careened into a tree.

The sound snapped his lady friend from her reverie, and as she stared at him, Pistachio’s carapaced cheeks actually blushed.

Maria choked and her laughter broke free. She transformed it—masterfully, in her humble opinion—into a cough, concealing her amusement. “Please focus on your steps, Pistachio. We’re almost there…”

Only when his lady friend fell back into contemplation did he look over at Maria. If looks could kill… well, he wouldn’t actually end her life, but his gaze certainly wished her ill. Perhaps a stomach ache. Or a few stubbed toes.

She winked and gave him a thumbs up. Slimes did the same, his approximation of a hand jiggling from Maria’s shoulder for only a second before retreating to her core.

Much to the delight of everyone—but especially Pistachio—the endless trunks finally came to an end, black water and darkened skies becoming visible between the mighty trees.

They had arrived.

Maria removed the block on her senses, and she immediately understood how the lady lobster had slipped so easily back into distraction. Clouds of chi suffused the entire forest. It was… weak, which gave her a moment’s pause. Her first reaction was to assume the source of it was fading in power, its life draining away, but the truth was far more gratifying.

It hadn’t gotten weaker at all. She’d gotten stronger. Much stronger.

She flexed her will, and pink essence billowed from her after a slight delay, the clouds of foreign chi fleeing from her restorative aspect. The origin of that sickly haze, however, had different plans. The placid water before them grew turgid, the spirit beast within its depths stirring from its slumber in response to her claim. It struggled against the bars of its prison, and though it couldn’t hope to break free, the effect on the lake was immense.

The surface bulged and roiled, small waves cascading out to crash against the shores. Pockets of air released a sea of bubbles. The odor they delivered was wretched, and Maria instinctively covered her nose as she muted her sense of smell, knowing her chi would take a moment to obey.

The lobsters were far less bothered by the scent, which wasn’t all that much of a surprise considering they delighted in the taste of raw, sun-ripened fish. Neither did they appear pleased, however; they lowered their carapaces to the grass, profiles low and clackers prepped for violence.

Maria let out a slow breath through pursed lips as she channeled more of her power out into her burgeoning clouds of pink. The surroundings became tinged with the color, growing less visible as her chi condensed.

“Disgusting,” hissed the lady lobster. “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

Maria couldn’t help but smile at the words. This was the first time she’d understood the crustacean so clearly. “Yep. Its core is absolutely abhorrent. Poor thing.”

The smaller lobster seemed to consider this. After a few seconds, she nodded, understanding. This giant spirit beast, the same creature Fischer had tried and failed to cleanse months ago, was something to be pitied. Its soul and intent were vile through no fault of its own.

“Based on what we now know of spirit beasts—and their tendency to turn evil after consuming humans—it’s highly likely this fish is a victim. The other creatures found in this lake were created by the followers of Ceto, so its corruption could have been intentional. Maybe it was just a regular fish before they found it. Or perhaps it was already an awakened spirit beast, a kind creature turned evil by the humans that tried to hunt it down.”

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“Which do you find more likely?” hissed Pistachio with a slew of thoughtful bubbles.

Maria shrugged her shoulders, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I mean to find out for sure.” She sent her pale chi billowing over the water, its color condensing, the moon above infusing it with an ethereal light.

The fish thrashed. Railed at the power it could feel encroaching on its domain. But it was entirely outmatched in this battle of wills. If desperate, Maria could have reached for Fischer, could have used what reserves he wasn’t feeding into the tunnels as if they were her own. Such action wasn’t necessary.

Her husband sent the faintest pulse of acknowledgement from somewhere to the southeast when he sensed her thoughts drifting toward him. He was on his way, sprinting leisurely through the forest, a pair of animal pals by his side.

Maria’s soft smile turned into a sharp grin; she would finish before they arrived.

Her clouds covered the entire lake now, one giant sheet of shimmering color. Below, the spirit beast grew frenzied, its battering against the bars getting stronger, more desperate. Yet the water’s surface remained still, the soothing aura of her healing power so strong that the very environs were affected.

Faster than the piteous creature could fathom, her chi engulfed the lake. It flew in from all directions, absent one second, ubiquitous the next. A mistake. She reeled, struggled to regain her equilibrium as the awareness of every organism calling the ecosystem home swarmed her.

Pistachio pressed one of his giant claws against her leg, helping her remain standing. She didn’t waste a moment, immediately trying again, this time limiting her scan to only those creatures larger than her palm. It took a second to detect them, and another second to go over the results. Both the jungle mudminnows and alligator gars remained, the two species somehow surviving the spirit beast’s reawakening.

She wanted to thank the universe that they’d lived, but she swept that gratitude aside for later. She had more important things to do. The ascendant beast trapped within the solid bars of Fischer’s light was stunned. Maria conquering its waters was so shocking that its fury, otherwise mindless and without end, had faltered.

In that moment of nothingness, its awareness empty and malleable, her essence poured in. Slimes squealed in delight, his will exploding outward to join with Maria’s. Master and familiar were one. Both sought to heal the poor soul trapped in physical and mental prisons not of its own design.

In some ways, the process resembled the cleansing of Theogonia’s cultivators; like the pelicans, its imperfections were scoured away. What differed, however, was the scale of the task at hand.

Firstly, rather than boulders, the afflicted beast’s defects were mountains, each belonging to a single cultivator. The breadth of its corruption was staggering. Hundreds of peaks lifted free, their bases running so deep they seemed lodged in its very center. Maria forced herself to ignore the sheer number, instead focusing on the other difference between this fish and the would-be pelicans.

The gaping rents left behind were too vast to be filled. She severed her connection to the tunnels momentarily, and she gasped as her vast power slammed back into her. Feeling more alive than she had in days, she sent every drop of chi flowing into the fish. Waters flowed up from the cracked lake-bed of its core, pooling in great canyons, never quite reaching the surface. Even her full strength wasn’t enough. Panic coursed through her, and she grasped out with a mental hand, seeking Fischer’s spare power. She would allow herself to fail, but not if it endangered a creature too insane to consent. Before she reached her husband, however, she realized the terrible truth.

It was no good. There was nothing more his light, brilliant and purifying as it was, could do here.

Maria inspected the result of her attempted healing. The spherical nexus was pitted, damaged. Her hopes died a little, but not entirely. This was one of the better outcomes. In a perfect world, she could have healed it back to full health, but its trauma made that impossible for now.

Though she could accept the outcome, it still niggled at her, a single question repeating over and over.

Why?

Why was this creature so different from Fathom and Cal? The pair of cephalopods had experienced things that would drive anyone mad, yet Fischer’s cleansing light had helped burn away their spiritual wounds—along with two literal gods.

The unknown was sometimes a source of wonder, a mystery whose possible discovery fueled exploration and advancement. This wasn’t one of those times. She suspected that any illumination of this spirit beast’s past would be smothered by shadow.

Maria withdrew her chi, curing scratches, internal injuries, and even a few mudminnow limbs as she went. The lake was once more mired in darkness as the last plume flew into her, and though the lake remained still, she could sense movement below.

From behind, too. Three shapes strode between trunks, having kept their distance while she worked. Borks zoomed forward and licked her hand. Teddy cocked his head, staring down at the water. And Fischer rested a reassuring palm on her upper back. He opened his mouth to speak, but then another arrived.

The top of the beast emerged from the murky pool, one inhuman eye taking them all in. It was no longer mindless, but neither was it kind. It communicated nothing, simply lingering, watching, then sinking once more, its tail barely moving as it returned to the depths.

“I’m sorry.” Fischer squeezed her hand, the small touch making a world of difference.

“It’s okay. I’m glad we came, even if it never recovers more than this. We’ve at least freed it from an eternity of directionless wrath.”

“You did, Maria. You freed it.” He squeezed again, his skin warm. “Well done.”

“Thanks, but it really was a team effort.” She turned to Pistachio. “I appreciate your help earlier, especially after I was so antagonising.”

He just shrugged. Of course he’d helped. Her statement had brought confusion to the lady lobster’s face, so Maria swiftly changed the subject. “What did you think? Did you feel any alignment with healing?”

Though it was her reason for coming along, the smaller lobster blew unsure bubbles. Maria gave a tight smile. She’d hoped her own purpose would strike a chord within the newly awakened crustacean, but perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.

Fischer felt her despondency. “You know, I might have just the thing to cheer you up.”

He had sensed her mood, but she could also sense his. She frowned at him. “Careful, husband. I love you, but if the barely restrained mirth pouring from you is related to an impending prank, I’d really rather you didn’t—”

“Nope!” Fischer reached down and collected something from his pants. He opened his fist to reveal a small, stylish, and decidedly spiky crustacean. “Check it out! Pocket crab!”

Shink! went the pocket crab, proving Fischer right. He had possessed just the thing to cheer her up.