Birdie's Book - Andrea Burden [21]
The wait felt like a long one, but it was probably only five minutes. Everything was silent. We peeked out into the darkness.
“How can we tell if it’s gone?” I asked Kerka.
“We can’t—we just have to risk it,” she answered. “I’ll go first.”
“Really?” I asked. “That would be great.”
“Here I go,” Kerka said.
I felt her moving out of our little shelter and instantly felt like a coward. If there was something to face, we should face it together. I took a deep breath and swam out a little. I saw a tiny bit of dim light approaching us.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Kerka laughed. “It’s my bubble with all my gear in it. The maidens must have dropped it.”
“I didn’t realize it had that glow to it before,” I said.
“Me neither,” said Kerka. “But let’s get it and get out of here! And keep a look out for anything else that looks hungry or dangerous.”
We swam down to the bubble and pushed it in front of us, making sure to keep an eye out in all directions. That was clearly the smart thing to do, but it meant we really couldn’t talk. The tunnel flattened out and then began going up again. It grew wider and wider, and finally we saw a sparkling light up ahead. The light got brighter and the walls receded until we were in clear blue water with silvery little fish darting everywhere. Then we were swimming along a shallower area, not swimming upward at all. The river floor was carpeted with thick mossy grass, water lilies floated above our heads, and sparkling light dappled everything.
One of the river maidens swam toward us, and I saw the other two behind her (whichever one had been hit by the light dart was clearly okay now). The river maidens laughed and swam about, changing colors as if one of them hadn’t just been hurt and they hadn’t abandoned us. I looked over at Kerka. She shrugged, and I laughed as we followed the maidens while they poked their heads above the waterline.
The maidens pulled themselves up on some rocks that formed the wall of a little natural pool, and stretched their bodies out in the sunlight. As Kerka and I climbed up with considerably less grace, our regular clothes instantly reappeared on us (bone dry!). We both flopped onto the warm rocks and sighed in relief. From that position, I spotted a beautiful flower bush nestled in the rocks just below the surface of the little pool. I immediately recognized it. The flower stems were long and vinelike and floated in the water.
“Kerka, there they are! Our Agminium!” The flowers hummed and murmured among themselves as they shyly pushed their pink blossoms to the surface.
“Pulchritudo. Bellus. Formosus,” they said in unison as they emerged to greet us.
I blinked and grinned. “Wow … They’re speaking Latin, too!”
I bowed to them and said, “Salutatio.”
Suddenly the river maidens all leapt into the water again. They splashed at the rocky edge of the pond and sang and giggled in delight. Then they stared at Kerka and me and put out their hands, palms down. It took some sign language before we realized that we were supposed to kiss their hands in thanks.
“A little dramatic?” Kerka whispered to me, grinning.
“Very,” I agreed.
But we decided to oblige the river maidens anyway. After all, we had arrived safe and sound. With a great deal of ceremony, we slipped into the water and swam to the maidens. We kissed each of their hands, nodding our heads and batting our eyelashes as much as possible. They batted their eyelashes back at us and turned color after color, giving us one final light show before they swam away.
Kerka and I climbed out of the river again at the little pool where the Agminium flowers lived. Many of the flowers had poked their heads up out of the water.
“Ave, amica,” the flowers said, speaking in a chorus and swaying as if there were a breeze in the water.
I laughed and turned to Kerka. “This is amazing!” Then I went back to the pink-petaled family. “Friend flowers, can you show us the way to the fairies?” I asked in the best Latin I could muster.
They gave me an ensemble nod.