Read Online The Gates of Sleep by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online
Authors: Mercedes Lackey
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green scent
hung over the pond; not the scent of rotting vegetation, nor the stale smell of
scum, just the perfume of a healthy watering hole densely packed with growing
things. In fact, the water was pure and clear, thanks to a fine population of
little fish and frogs. Herons came here to hunt, and the smaller, shy birds of
the reed beds, but never any people—if the folk of the neighboring farm
knew about this place, they didn’t think it held fish large enough to
bother with, and her own family left her alone here. This was Marina’s
summertime retreat by common consent, and had been since she was old enough to
come up here alone. It wasn’t as if she could get into any trouble in the
water, after all—even in the roughest horseplay, the Undines would never
permit her to come to harm in her proper element. She had been able to swim,
and be safe in the water, since before she could walk.
She slipped out of her dress and petticoat and underthings
and left them folded on a rock concealed among the reeds, where they would
remain safe and dry without advertising the fact that there was someone
swimming here to anyone who might be passing. This time of year there were
always strangers, itinerant harvesters, and gypsies passing through the
village. The villagers themselves might not come here, but the strangers,
looking for a place to camp, might happen upon it by accident. Not the gypsies,
though; the Undines managed to warn them off.
There hadn’t been anyone around the pond today, or
the Undine wouldn’t have invited her to swim. They might not understand
much about a mortal’s life, but they did understand that strange men
lurking about could be a danger to Marina.
She took a moment to tie her hair loosely at the nape of
her neck, then slipped into the sun-warmed water wearing nothing more than her
own skin.
Immediately she was surrounded by Undines wearing nothing
more than theirs, and an exuberant game of tag began. She was at a partial
disadvantage, not being able to breathe underwater, but she managed to
compensate with her longer reach. There was a great deal of splashing and
giggling as they chased one another. The warm water caressed Marina’s
skin like the brush of warmed silk; as the Undines slid past her, a tingle of
energy passed between them, a little like the tingle in the air before
lightning strikes. The pond was surprisingly deep for its small size, and as
she dove under to elude a pursuer or to chase her own quarry, she reveled in
the shock of encountering a cooler layer of water beneath the sun-warmed
surface. Other, lesser Elementals gathered to watch, chattering excitedly among
the reeds, applauding when someone made a particularly clever move. A family of
otters appeared out of nowhere and joined in the fun, and the game changed from
one of tag to one of “catch the otter” by common consent.
The otters took to this new game with all the enthusiasm
that they brought to any endeavor, and soon the pond was alive with splashing
and shrill laughter. Undines chased otters in every direction; slippery otters
slid right through Marina’s fingers, though truth to tell, she didn’t
try very hard to hold them. It was more fun watching them twist and turn in the
water to avoid capture than it was to try and wrestle a squirming body that
just might deliver an accidental nasty kick—with claws!—if you
weren’t careful.
Only when Marina was completely out of breath did she
retreat to her rocks and watch the Undines continue the game on their own. The
smallest of the otters evidently ran out of energy at the same time, and joined
her. After she combed out her hair with her fingers and coaxed most of the
water out of it, she stroked the otter’s smooth, dense fur and scratched
its head as it sighed with content and erected its stiff whiskers in an
otter-smile. It rolled over on its back, begging for her to scratch its tummy.
She chuckled, and obliged.
But the sun was westering; it was past
hung over the pond; not the scent of rotting vegetation, nor the stale smell of
scum, just the perfume of a healthy watering hole densely packed with growing
things. In fact, the water was pure and clear, thanks to a fine population of
little fish and frogs. Herons came here to hunt, and the smaller, shy birds of
the reed beds, but never any people—if the folk of the neighboring farm
knew about this place, they didn’t think it held fish large enough to
bother with, and her own family left her alone here. This was Marina’s
summertime retreat by common consent, and had been since she was old enough to
come up here alone. It wasn’t as if she could get into any trouble in the
water, after all—even in the roughest horseplay, the Undines would never
permit her to come to harm in her proper element. She had been able to swim,
and be safe in the water, since before she could walk.
She slipped out of her dress and petticoat and underthings
and left them folded on a rock concealed among the reeds, where they would
remain safe and dry without advertising the fact that there was someone
swimming here to anyone who might be passing. This time of year there were
always strangers, itinerant harvesters, and gypsies passing through the
village. The villagers themselves might not come here, but the strangers,
looking for a place to camp, might happen upon it by accident. Not the gypsies,
though; the Undines managed to warn them off.
There hadn’t been anyone around the pond today, or
the Undine wouldn’t have invited her to swim. They might not understand
much about a mortal’s life, but they did understand that strange men
lurking about could be a danger to Marina.
She took a moment to tie her hair loosely at the nape of
her neck, then slipped into the sun-warmed water wearing nothing more than her
own skin.
Immediately she was surrounded by Undines wearing nothing
more than theirs, and an exuberant game of tag began. She was at a partial
disadvantage, not being able to breathe underwater, but she managed to
compensate with her longer reach. There was a great deal of splashing and
giggling as they chased one another. The warm water caressed Marina’s
skin like the brush of warmed silk; as the Undines slid past her, a tingle of
energy passed between them, a little like the tingle in the air before
lightning strikes. The pond was surprisingly deep for its small size, and as
she dove under to elude a pursuer or to chase her own quarry, she reveled in
the shock of encountering a cooler layer of water beneath the sun-warmed
surface. Other, lesser Elementals gathered to watch, chattering excitedly among
the reeds, applauding when someone made a particularly clever move. A family of
otters appeared out of nowhere and joined in the fun, and the game changed from
one of tag to one of “catch the otter” by common consent.
The otters took to this new game with all the enthusiasm
that they brought to any endeavor, and soon the pond was alive with splashing
and shrill laughter. Undines chased otters in every direction; slippery otters
slid right through Marina’s fingers, though truth to tell, she didn’t
try very hard to hold them. It was more fun watching them twist and turn in the
water to avoid capture than it was to try and wrestle a squirming body that
just might deliver an accidental nasty kick—with claws!—if you
weren’t careful.
Only when Marina was completely out of breath did she
retreat to her rocks and watch the Undines continue the game on their own. The
smallest of the otters evidently ran out of energy at the same time, and joined
her. After she combed out her hair with her fingers and coaxed most of the
water out of it, she stroked the otter’s smooth, dense fur and scratched
its head as it sighed with content and erected its stiff whiskers in an
otter-smile. It rolled over on its back, begging for her to scratch its tummy.
She chuckled, and obliged.
But the sun was westering; it was past
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