“Tail waves! Hold on!” came Cascade’s voice, at about the same moment as they hit the rapids.

The jolt was so sudden and powerful that it nearly knocked Owen out of the hammock. He flailed wildly until he was certain he would stay inside the fabric.

“Owen, hold on to the edges of the hammock,” called Ember over the roar of the river. It was deafening. He had been enjoying the tour so much that he hadn’t noticed the slowly-growing din. He grabbed the edges of the hammock as the entire boat rocked violently from side to side. Beneath him, he heard a frantic whining.

“Devlin!” he shouted. “Is he alright?”

“He’s hiding under your hammock,” came Kaz’s voice.

“Captain, rock ahead. Center. Better route left,” shouted Cascade. Her clear, high voice carried surprisingly well over the incessant rush.

“Owen!” it was Kaz again. “I’ve got Devlin’s leash. I’m tying it to one of the hooks so he can’t fall overboard.”

Relief rose within him even as the terrible shaking continued and Devlin’s whines rose. He couldn’t stand the sound of his dearest friend’s anguish. He reached an arm down to the deck and, after a moment of searching, found Devlin’s furry side. At his touch, the dog wriggled around and tucked his nose into Owen’s palm. Owen felt along his face until he touched the collar. He pulled. Devlin resisted. Owen couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to come out either.

“Devlin, up!” he commanded.

Understanding, Devlin rose carefully to his feet and slunk out from under the hammock. Owen could hear shouting all around him, feel the wild bucking of the deck and the fierce wind. But all his attention was on his terrified dog as he put both paws on the edge of the hammock, teetered, and finally jumped in.

Owen thought they would both be dumped onto the deck as Devlin’s substantial bulk hit him, knocking the breath from his lungs. But the ropes held, the hammock stayed steady, and Devlin wriggled around until he was more beside Owen than on top of him. He wrapped one arm around the dog and kissed his head, his other arm holding tight to the hammock. Devlin licked his cheek, and, though he still whined, he seemed calmer. Uncomfortable as he was with both of them sharing the hammock, Owen was still grateful to have Devlin close.

The moment Devlin had gotten settled, the rest of the sounds and the chaos came rushing back.

Otto was shouting something composed of words Owen had heard before, though they failed to resolve themselves into any sort of sense. The hammock rocked and twisted under him as the boat veered sharply from one direction to another.

“What’s going on?” Owen called, hoping for some sort of explanation or description. Or at least a clue.

“We just swerved around a huge rock in the center of the river,” called Ember, “There’s some pretty rough water up ahead. Let’s hope the wind’s strong enough or this will be slow going.”

“Why? Won’t’ the water just carry us?”

“Were going upstream, Owen,” Kaz answered. “Against the current. That means the crew has to - aaaaagh!”

Owen found himself yelling with Kaz and the rest of them as the boat dipped and rose, rocking wildly from one side to the other. In the chaos he barely had time to register his amazement that they were navigating upstream, against the rapids. He had just assumed they were following the flow of the river.

Otto and Cascade were both shouting, though Owen realized through the haze of adrenaline that he understood Cascade better. Her contributions were essentially short, condensed descriptions of the conditions ahead. As Owen listened, he began to understand the boat’s movements in relation to her words.

“Deep water to starboard,” and the boat moved to the right.

“Sinkhole ahead to port,” and the boat jerked up and to one side.

It was hard to tell which direction they were moving, but the words held tantalizing glimpses of what was ahead.

“What’s a sinkhole?” he called.

“It’s a current that flows around a boulder, pulling everything down beneath it,” replied Ember. She seemed to be the most familiar with river terms. Or the most able to calmly communicate them.

Owen shuddered. He understood why they were avoiding such things. As they jerked and rocked up the river, Owen listened to Cascade like his life depended on understanding her every word. Every time she called a new obstacle, Otto would respond with orders and the crew would rush to comply with cries of ‘got it’ and ‘aye aye, captain!’ Every time, the ship would move in a different, and more disturbing way.

Spray floated to cover them, and soon Owen shas shivering, grateful for Devlin’s added warmth. In between the involuntary yells and shrieks that accompanied each new movement, Owen asked about words he didn’t know.

Ember answered mostly, with Kaz and even Chel chiming in occasionally.

“High water means that the level of the river is higher than usual. They say it’s hairy because it’s more difficult to navigate.”

“A whirlpool is a circular current that catches things and pushes them down to the bottom.”

“A boil is when the water swells out over a rock. Like it’s boiling.”

“A clear chute is a steep section with faster water but without anything in the way.”

“An eddy cushion is where the current goes back on itself. And it’s clear water so we can ride it upstream a bit.”

Even though these descriptions were, more often than not, horrifying, they gave him something to focus on other than his own fear. So he listened hard to Cascade and Otto and asked as often as he could get the words out

Suddenly something changed. Otto started swearing and barked out more orders in a row than Owen had heard so far.

“Meander and Reef, to the paddles. Oreeya, stay on the sails. Fin, get going. We need to stay put until we get the wind back. Hurry! Hurry! Meander, Reef, brace until Fin catches up. Get to it!”

It felt for a moment like they were drifting backwards, until there was a sudden sharp jerk and they seemed to be staying relatively still.

And then another voice began speaking in a completely different cadence, starting with the traditional words used by storytellers who passed through the market every once in a while. It took Owen a moment to recognize the speaker as Fin. The usually soft-spoken medicine man now spoke in clear ringing tones that echoed off the cany0n walls.

“Dreamer be patient. We are learning our way. Wayra was always a troublemaker among the other elements.”

“What’s going on now?” asked Owen.

“We passed a bend in the river and the wind died down. So Fin is calling Wayra.”

“He’s a mage,” said Kaz, awe in her voice. Owen realized he hadn’t had a chance to tell her since he’d found out on the tour.

“And a storyteller,” added Chel. Owen was surprised to hear the warmth and pleasure in her voice, which was usually so guarded.

“Until he chose his first mage,” continued Fin, “Asha was the youngest of her five siblings and every bit as mischievous and flighty as Wayra himself.

“When she first came into her power, Asha helped Wayra perpetrate his mischief, spreading it into the human world. She controlled her power through happiness and pleasure. Her joy would pluck hats off people’s heads and deposit them in tall trees. Her laughter would upturn the marketplace in a chaos of swirling breezes. And it’s even said that a stray giggle once knocked the Inca himself from his palanquin.”

As fin spoke, Owen felt the breeze ripple over the top of his hammock. Meander and Reef shouted together in a steady cadence. But their voices were the baseline to the melody of Fin’s story, while Cascade’s and Otto’s occasional interjections became the counterpoint. As the wind lifted and the sails flailed and flapped overhead, Owen realized with awe that his fear was gone. Fin’s story transformed the rapids, and Owen felt the rhythm of the river through the lyricism of his voice.

~

Row! Row!

Careful of that rock! Looks like there might be sleepers to either side.

But one day Asha’s mischief met its downfall. She took a fancy to a young man and followed him down the mountain. When he reached the valley at midday, he stopped to drink at a pool in the stream. Asha hid behind a tree and watched. It was a hot day and soon he stripped off his clothes and climbed into the pool to cool off.

Asha smiled, and in her secret delight sent Wayra to steal the man’s clothes. Little did she know that this man was Sinuq, a powerful sunlight mage sent by Inti to teach Wayra and Asha a lesson.

Row! Row!

Reversal ahead. Aim for the gate.

When Sinuq returned to find his clothes gone, he looked around in feigned confusion.

“Oh dear,” he said. “Where are my clothes?”

Asha couldn’t stand it any longer. She jumped out from behind her tree, giggling with triumph. The wind swirled around her, throwing leaves and twigs through the air.

“I have hidden your clothes, handsome man,” she said. “But I will give them back to you for a kiss.”

“Very well, fair maid,” said Sinuq. “Come here and I will give you what you ask for.”

So Asha skipped happily over to Sinuq. She closed her eyes and turned her cheek towards him. But instead of kissing her, Sinuq wrapped Asha’s wrists in shackles of sunlight and pushed her against a tree.

Row! Row! Row!

“I know who you are, Asha,” said Sinuq, and as he spoke, his face began to glow, even in the shade of the leaf canopy. Asha’s eyes were wide with fear. “I have a message for you and Wayra from Inti,” continued Sinuq. “You have been allowed free reign for your mischief for too long. Tone it down or my siblings and I will be forced to punish you and keep you from interfering in the world we are building.”

And as the sunlight faded from Sinuq’s face, he struck Asha a fierce blow, throwing her to the ground. He gathered up the clothes from behind the tree where Asha had been hiding and left her there, crying, in the valley.

Brace against that rock, Meander! Hold on for the breaking wave!

As Asha cried, a great wind rose, greater than any she had ever called before. It beat against everything around her, toppling trees and carving into the very mountains surrounding the valley. Asha had never been hurt before. Her brothers kept her safe as a child, and no one had dared lay a hand on her after she came into her power out of respect. She was inconsolable.

The other elements, seeing the circle of destruction widen, tried to calm Wayra. But he was driven by his mage’s emotions and could not stop. The elements realized that a human had to reach Asha and calm her down. They sent Sinuq to try and console Asha, but he could not pass the wall of debris that his own actions had caused.

There was only one element that had a chance of penetrating the cyclone. The elements grudgingly agreed that they must call upon Ch’usaj. Rather than permit her to leave her prison, however, they allowed her to choose a mage. They escorted her choice, an unremarkable young man named Fo, to the cave where she was kept. And there she bestowed upon him the power of the void.

Avoid the laterals. Staircase ahead!

A year passed. Ch’usaj trained Fo. The cyclone raged around Asha, reaching the height of the mountains and spreading several times as wide.

The elements continued to construct the empire. With Wayra completely occupied with Asha’s uncontrolled power, his absence was felt. Without his mischief many things moved along more smoothly. For the most part. Most of the elements commented at how peaceful and harmonious things were without him. But Nina, who’s spark depended on him to grow, noticed his absence. And Killa, who always observed human activity more clearly than her siblings, noticed that people seemed more serious. They laughed less and complained more. Seasons could not move from one place to another anymore. The air was still. Trade had just begun to pass down the great river and suddenly could not return.

Row! Row!

Oriya, watch the sail. 

Killa and Nina went to their siblings and told them that Fo must be sent as soon as possible. They needed their brother back. Ch’usaj argued that Fo wasn’t ready, but her siblings overruled her. And Fo was sent to face Asha.

Undercut! Undercut! Veer left. It’ll be hairy, but we have to aim for the standing wave.

Fo stood at the edge of the whirling cloud. He had descended the mountains to stand at its edge. Very faintly, carried on the debris-filled winds, came the echo of a young woman’s sobbing. Hearing her, Fo’s doubt and fear dissolved. Creating a globe of Void around him, he stepped into the cyclone.

The cloud was so thick that Fo could not see where he was going. He walked for what felt like days across a flat plain, though he had been told that before this place had been all mountains and valleys. He caught snatches of Asha’s voice, now in one direction, now another. But he kept walking forward, following his intuition rather than his senses.

It took Fo three days to find Asha. She crouched in a puddle of tears, still sobbing, untouched by the cyclone raging around her. Fo tried to speak to her from within his globe of Void. But his element ate his voice and she did not hear him.

Row! Row!

He knew what the right thing to do was. He knelt beside Asha and lowered his protection. Immediately the wind scoured his face and skin, tearing at his clothes. Fo took Asha’s hands. She looked up at him through tear-streaked eyes. He looked back at her, though the wind raked at his eyes.

Ledge line to the left! Head for the chute, but watch out for sleepers!

“Asha,” he said, never looking away. “I’m Fo. I heard what that man did to you. I’m so sorry. He should never have hurt you.”

“Why?” she asked, and her voice was raw and wrecked from crying. “Because my power has destroyed everything around me?”

“No,” said Fo. “Because you are innocent and good and didn’t deserve to be hurt. You were right to be upset by it.”

“Really?” she said, and a small, shy smile emerged on her trembling lips. The moan of the wind began to lower.

“Of course,” said Fo. “And I can assure you that no one will ever try to hurt you again.”

“Because you’ll protect me?” asked Asha.

“Well, I will if you want me to,” said Fo. “But I meant that no one will ever hurt you again because you’ve proven that you can protect yourself.”

At that, Asha gave a startled laugh. And all the wind that had been swirling around them changed direction, blowing the debris outward. Wayra gratefully dropped all that he had carried and dispersed into his natural state.

Eddy wall! Steady! Steady! Reef, Brace off the canyon.

Row! Row!

The plain was revealed, flat and stretching for miles. It glittered white in the sunlight from a year’s worth of salt from Asha’s tears. Fo could see none of this, however. As he had kept Asha’s gaze, prompting her to trust him, the grit in the wind had destroyed his vision.

Asha took Fo’s hand and led him out of the salt flats that would forever bear her name.

Almost there! Careful with the pool drops. Deep water there between those boulders.

From that day, Wayra rejoined his siblings. Grudgingly or joyfully, they welcomed back his influence. And none of them ever tried to control him again. But Wayra had also learned from Asha, who was much more careful with her power from then on. He did tone down his mischief, though he never fully abandoned it. And his mages always channel their power through expression, rather than pure emotion.

Row! Row!

As for Ch’usaj, she remained trapped, but Fo continued to prove himself as a wise and loyal servant. He was the first of Ch’usaj’s mages. He refused to allow the shamans to heal his eyes, saying he could see more clearly this way what needed to be done. He always wore a white blindfold and became known as the Sightless Seer. He went only where he was needed, and many came to forget the Sightless Seer. But Wayra never forgot him, and her followers will always tell his story.

~

“Dreamer, we thank you for your wisdom.”

The roar of the river quieted, the air warmed, and Owen breathed a sigh. He tried to think if he’d ever felt this alive before. If so, he couldn’t recall.

Kaz began to laugh. “Let’s do that again!”

Ember’s chuckle opened into a full belly laugh, and then they were all laughing. The passengers and the crew, shouting cheers and whooping with the joy of adrenaline and the knowledge that they had made it alive.

Then, beside him, he heard Kaz gasp. “How on earth are we going to get over that?!” And Owen heard, with a thrill of foreboding, a low rumble, like distant thunder.

“Over what?” he asked, though he thought he knew.

“A waterfall,” said Kaz, sounding awed. “Taller than the trees. Almost as tall as the mountains around us.”

“It’s alright,” said Ember. “There’s a mechanism. I don’t really know how it works. They hook the boat to cables and lift it over the falls. It’s really quite amazing.”

Owen wondered how the crew could hear Otto over the growing thunder of the falls. He wanted to ask for a description, but he wouldn’t have been able to hear it anyway. Besides, the sound and spray already painted a vivid - and terrifying - vision in his head. So it was without narration that he listened as they drew closer and closer. Every time he thought they must be upon it it would only get louder, the spray more intense. There was even a sort of wind coming off the falls now, competing with the one at their backs.

Finally they seemed to stop. Or at least the roar grew no more deafening. Owen held onto the trembling Devlin and tried to hear anything other than the rumble of the water. It was futile; the waterfall was just too loud.

And then, when Owen was convinced that he would be trapped in this freezing world of white noise forever, the boat shuddered. He could just hear a great creaking and groaning under the noise of the falls. The hammock shuddered. They must be rising.

The shuddering seemed to last for an age, made timeless by the constant sound. Gradually, Owen became aware of the spray receding, the warmth of sun on his soaked skin. The roar had faded too, so he could hear the screeching groan more clearly.

From close by, he heard Kaz muttering, “Oh Sweet Dreamer! Oh Sweet Dreamer!”

Ember’s rich, full laugh rang out. “Now that’s what I call a view!”

Owen found himself laughing with relief to be able to hear again, to have a sense of the world beyond Devlin and the shivering hammock. “Describe it, Ember!” he shouted.

“We’re way above the tree line!” it was Kaz that answered. She sounded elated. “It’s all green. Mountains in every direction. The rapids and the canyon snake below us to the wide shining river beyond. It looks like the mountains disappear into the mist. I know this won’t make any sense to you, but the air is full of rainbows! It’s so beautiful!”

Owen’s heart lifted like the boat. If he could make it up a waterfall, what couldn’t he do? He thought of telling his sister about this and, as tears pricked his eyes, of the promise he had made to her. He had to survive this and make it back just to tell her of the marvelous mechanism that could hoist an entire boat, passengers and all, up a waterfall the size of a small mountain.

Now he heard a chorus of new voices all yelling, “Heave! Heave! Heave!”

“Who’s that?” he asked. “I hear more people.”

“There’s a crew that lifts and lowers boats up and down the falls,” called Ember. “We’re almost at the top!”

A moment later there was a confusing cacophony of voices. Greetings and orders and confirmations overlapped so thickly that Owen couldn’t make sense of much of it. He caught, “some seriously nice looking reeds you got there!” and “Hairy in this high water!” and “Got skills and guts, I’ll give you that.”

Then the boat shuddered again. Owen clutched reflexively at the edge of his hammock, irrationally convinced that the mechanism had failed and they would plummet to their deaths in the river below. But then they were moving forward smoothly, gaining speed. He heard the flap and snap of the sails, felt the steady wind, and realized that somehow, miraculously, they had made it to the top of the waterfall and were back on smooth water again.

Next Chapter: 37: Kaz - Curiosity and Confusion