Read Online Dreamfisher by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nancy Springer
Tags: Fantasy
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crumb fell from her mouth onto the top of the muchwater—
A flash, a splash, a glimpse of something that shone, and then circle circle circle opening wider and wider like her own eyes.
Circles faded and ceased. Muchwater lay still again. Without giving herself time to be afraid, the girl dropped another crumb.
Flash, splash, an arc gleaming like cold fire. She squeaked with wonder and terror but gazed intently, and she thought she saw something flitting away under the surface. Something that flies in the water, she thought, like birds in the sky, but soaring down in darkness. She felt herself quivering again, but she had to know, she had to know whether there were more than one, she dropped a whole scattering of crumbs, then gasped as the surface was broken by brightnesses flying up like great sparks, glimpsed, gone, and circling ring ring rings and more mysteries skimming just beneath sight.
Such glory, such beauty, gave her blissful calm; muchwater calmed also. She sat still and rapt; muchwater lay still and shining. She gazed down, and from the water a dark-eyed girl gazed up at her. Within the face of that shadowy girlform she saw something scud bright, like thought.
The girl gasped, “It’s like me! It is me!”
Something roiled like thunder just below the face of stillwater. Something roiled like thunder and lightning and cataracts after a springtime storm within the girl’s selfhood as she sat looking.
* * *
For days the girl camped nearby and did not quite starve, snaring rock rabbits to char over the fire she cherished on a hearth of stone; it had taken a whole day to start, so she never let it go out. In the chill nights she curled by the fire with her deerskin wrapped around her shoulders. At dawn she would look to the muchwater, awed anew each day to see it breathe mists of steam like a living thing. She grubbed for ground nuts, robbed a rock rat’s nest of its pine seeds, found some sour bunchberries. Then found that a berry dropped onto the surface of wonderwater brought forth a bright swirl out of the darkness. After that, bunchberries were for muchwater, not for her. Day after day, whenever her hungry belly would let her, the girl studied the shadowshining water, in rain and sun and twilight and starlight. Sitting atop the lowest rock she still felt not close enough. There came a blue-sky day when she lay belly down on the rock with her head stretched over the lip, her arms reaching for the water, yearning.
She dropped a bunchberry, watching intently as it made itself a bed on the face of the water, which was also her face, shadowy eyes staring back at her with the berry lying red like a wound in between. A moment later there came the flash, the shining, and this time she glimpsed an eye like the dark of the moon, and a gleaming maw rising out of deep girlself almost close enough to touch. If only she could grasp it, hold it in her hand a moment, then she would—maybe she would know. Maybe she would understand the wrongness in herself.
Maybe she would be able to go home.
Her chest heaved with wanting. Wriggling on her belly like a serpent, she pushed herself closer to the water, head and shoulders and half her body over the lip of the rock, arms stretched down. Almost-near-enough-to-touch—
Making herself like a willow wand, she dropped a berry. She saw the mystery flash up out of darkness, shining so close—the sight quivered her whole body and sent her lunging toward it, her hands opening like stars—
In her ears something roared like a dragon as she flew down into the water-like-a-night-sky, cold, its icy coldness thick all around her and in her, ears, mouth, nose—breathing water hurt very much. But then it became like sleeping, dark and blurry, like the inside of her mind when she closed her eyes. And then there was not even darkness.
* * *
She awoke to find herself lying beside a blazing fire, shivering even in its warmth, wrapped in—what was this thing?
“If you desire to go
A flash, a splash, a glimpse of something that shone, and then circle circle circle opening wider and wider like her own eyes.
Circles faded and ceased. Muchwater lay still again. Without giving herself time to be afraid, the girl dropped another crumb.
Flash, splash, an arc gleaming like cold fire. She squeaked with wonder and terror but gazed intently, and she thought she saw something flitting away under the surface. Something that flies in the water, she thought, like birds in the sky, but soaring down in darkness. She felt herself quivering again, but she had to know, she had to know whether there were more than one, she dropped a whole scattering of crumbs, then gasped as the surface was broken by brightnesses flying up like great sparks, glimpsed, gone, and circling ring ring rings and more mysteries skimming just beneath sight.
Such glory, such beauty, gave her blissful calm; muchwater calmed also. She sat still and rapt; muchwater lay still and shining. She gazed down, and from the water a dark-eyed girl gazed up at her. Within the face of that shadowy girlform she saw something scud bright, like thought.
The girl gasped, “It’s like me! It is me!”
Something roiled like thunder just below the face of stillwater. Something roiled like thunder and lightning and cataracts after a springtime storm within the girl’s selfhood as she sat looking.
* * *
For days the girl camped nearby and did not quite starve, snaring rock rabbits to char over the fire she cherished on a hearth of stone; it had taken a whole day to start, so she never let it go out. In the chill nights she curled by the fire with her deerskin wrapped around her shoulders. At dawn she would look to the muchwater, awed anew each day to see it breathe mists of steam like a living thing. She grubbed for ground nuts, robbed a rock rat’s nest of its pine seeds, found some sour bunchberries. Then found that a berry dropped onto the surface of wonderwater brought forth a bright swirl out of the darkness. After that, bunchberries were for muchwater, not for her. Day after day, whenever her hungry belly would let her, the girl studied the shadowshining water, in rain and sun and twilight and starlight. Sitting atop the lowest rock she still felt not close enough. There came a blue-sky day when she lay belly down on the rock with her head stretched over the lip, her arms reaching for the water, yearning.
She dropped a bunchberry, watching intently as it made itself a bed on the face of the water, which was also her face, shadowy eyes staring back at her with the berry lying red like a wound in between. A moment later there came the flash, the shining, and this time she glimpsed an eye like the dark of the moon, and a gleaming maw rising out of deep girlself almost close enough to touch. If only she could grasp it, hold it in her hand a moment, then she would—maybe she would know. Maybe she would understand the wrongness in herself.
Maybe she would be able to go home.
Her chest heaved with wanting. Wriggling on her belly like a serpent, she pushed herself closer to the water, head and shoulders and half her body over the lip of the rock, arms stretched down. Almost-near-enough-to-touch—
Making herself like a willow wand, she dropped a berry. She saw the mystery flash up out of darkness, shining so close—the sight quivered her whole body and sent her lunging toward it, her hands opening like stars—
In her ears something roared like a dragon as she flew down into the water-like-a-night-sky, cold, its icy coldness thick all around her and in her, ears, mouth, nose—breathing water hurt very much. But then it became like sleeping, dark and blurry, like the inside of her mind when she closed her eyes. And then there was not even darkness.
* * *
She awoke to find herself lying beside a blazing fire, shivering even in its warmth, wrapped in—what was this thing?
“If you desire to go
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