The White Queen (Beyond Endless Tides #1)

Parts 9 and 10 (Updated)

When Morg opened her eyes she couldn't think where she was. She was face down and felt another's body at her side, it was warm and comforting. Her arm draped over a young toned chest, and brought memories of her last woken thoughts. Ethos.

She lifted her head. He still slept and looked at peace. She studied his facial features and decided he was handsome and desirable with it. His right hand still clutched the new bill he'd stolen from Stiff Water. Lines of intricate detail depicted glyphs of myth and the ages past, the like of which she'd seen once before on the badonza tooth which hung from Ooyun's neck. The lines pulsed in a radiant dim light which encrusted Ethos's clenched fist. The glowing blue light traced up through his wrist, illuminating his blood tracts up to his shoulder and spread across his chest. Her eyes snapped open. 'Ethos?'

He didn't answer. It was then she noticed his hair, it was whiter than cold water.

Was he cold? No, his body radiated warmth.

She looked again at his face. He was pale, like he'd eaten too many Wergums. She shook him. 'Ethos.' Again he didn't respond.

She refused to believe he was dead, and then noticed his chest still rose and fell. Something wasn't right though and she didn't know what or how to aid him. She needed help. But from who?

Looking around she could see no asperini or the signs of any being close. She had to go back.

She pushed off Ethos, turned and headed to Stiff Water.

Ethos was in danger − and though the White Queen had frightened her, that thought terrified her.

She traced the base of a sheer rock face, keeping a good fifty strokes from it. It was lit by the rays from the soltaire and was tinged in green on blue and grey. She'd have to follow it for about two hundred strokes where at its end she'd have to confront the Conzoras again. She hadn't liked those either but Ethos needed her and she'd have to be strong. Her journey was far; she dipped her head and forced her tail to work harder.

After swimming a good hundred strokes, she tired. The end of the sheer wall came into view round a curve in the structure she'd followed and her heart sank. She'd miscalculated. It still looked to be two hundred strokes before she'd reach the Conzora's pit. Her destination loomed further beyond, a small construct in the distance.

She didn't get another fifty strokes when a voice shouted from behind.

'Morg. Where are you going?' It was Ethos and sounded close.

She came to a stop, somersaulted and came up in his opened arms. 'You had me worried, Ethos. I was going to get help.'

'From the Mad Queen? Are you... mad?'

She laughed, she couldn't help it, but the laughter turned to crying.

'Hey,' Ethos said, 'I'm all right.'

'You didn't see what the bill was doing to you,' she said through palpitations and erratic breathing.

'What do you mean?'

'The bill was making light. I think it was magic, Ethos. The light was going up your arm, inside your arm and up into your chest. And you looked pale, your hair has changed colour too.'

'My hair,' he ran a hand over his head. 'What do you mean it's lighter?'

'I mean it changed colour, it's white like Stiff Water.'

His eyes narrowed and he looked afraid. 'I don't know what to think, Morg. I woke up and I felt fine, apart from not seeing you with me. That scared me. But I feel OK.' His hand felt his chest. 'No. There's something different in here. I don't know what it is. Maybe you were right to get help, maybe I need to speak to someone. Not the Mad Queen though, I never want to see her again.'