Free Eyes in the Water by Monica Lee Kennedy

numb from his calves down, and allowed his mind to
settle.
    All will be well. Somehow.
    Brenol inhaled and stepped gingerly amidst
the stones. He plucked up his sandals and looked expectantly at the
juile.
    “Now, we plan,” Arman said, placing his
sturdy hand on Brenol’s shoulder.
    It was reassuring to have a friend so
capable, so alive, so determined to do right.
    “Is this poison what is destroying the
maralane?” Brenol asked. “Because Preifest seemed to think it was
just the way fate was working.”
    “The maralane are keenly observant. There is
no possibility that they did not know of the poison, even though
they never spoke of it to the upper world.” Arman nodded, as if to
attest to the truth of the statement. “Yes, if Preifest did not
tell you that the poison was the cause, it is not. There is no
reason for him to conceal anything for Jerem… Now, the Genesifin
indicates that there has been a spiraling of negative events at
work for many orbits. It makes me think that the maralane were
passing before, and perhaps Jerem simply accelerated the process.
Like a mild sickness touching the elderly. I think there are at
least two pieces at work now.”
    Brenol gnawed on his lower lip. “Fate and
evil?”
    “Precisely.”
    Arman’s eyes sparked in sudden recollection.
“There was a time, shortly after you left, when the fish population
seemed to recede. But it was a mere orbit. Then they flushed back
and everyone forgot about it.” The juile met Brenol’s gaze
unflinchingly. “They must have been hardy enough to endure.”
    “How can Jerem have thought the land would
not be affected?” Brenol asked. “It seems too great an
oversight.”
    “Poisons can target certain peoples, if made
accordingly. Perhaps he had targeted such a specific aspect of the
maralane that he did not even ponder the possibility of the poison
affecting the land.”
    “Do you think Jerem ever made an
antidote?”
    Arman’s face was ugly and somber in the
darkness. “I doubt he would even consider it. He cared only for
himself. And power. The maralane have always been sentinels,
watching over Massada and its destiny. They would never have
allowed him to rule the world.”
    “Arman?”
    The juile met the young man’s apprehensive
glance.
    “Did we kill Massada when we stopped Jerem on
the isle? Would we have been able to know of this sooner if we’d
somehow kept him alive? Could we have stopped the poison long
ago?”
    Arman shook his head. His face was severe.
“Do not even unwind that string of thought, Bren. He was the
one choosing evil, not us.” The juile sliced his hand forcefully
through the air. “We are not to be blamed for this.”
    Brenol nodded, recognizing the truth in the
words.
    After a moment, he spoke again. “There are
indications in the Genesifin of the land meeting possible demise
too. Could this be the same thing you suggest? That the lands were
already faltering…and this sped it up?”
    Arman nodded, considering the words. “It is
very likely.” He shook his head. “I feel something hinting within
me that poison is at work in the terrisdans, even if that is the
case. So I am not ready to abandon attempts to help our world
yet.”
    Brenol felt his stomach calm in acceptance.
“Can we at least stop one—the death of the maralane or the
poisoning of the land?”
    The juile frowned, but spoke compassionately.
“Bren, I doubt there is anything to be done about the maralane.
Yes, I will speak to them and offer help, but I think there is
little the people of the land can do. If there is health to be had,
they will find it themselves. They are a discerning and skilled
people. They know better how to care for their kind than we ever
could.” His gaze was strong and clear. “But as for the poison
harming the terrisdans? We will try. I have hope that since the
poison was not intended for the land we will be able to stop it. We
must. Somehow.”
    Brenol felt that spinning arrow within twang
powerfully