Echo Soul Seekers

Dace stands at its edge. Poking deep into the water with a long sharp branch he’s plucked from the canopy of blooming vines that swoop overhead.
    Vines that bear the same type of flower Raven dropped in my lap.
    “Why aren’t you at work?” I ask, taking a moment to appreciate the long lean line of his back.
    He turns, eyeing me slowly when he replies, “Why’d you ditch school?”
    My eyes dart toward Raven, now comfortably perched on Horse’s neck, then I head for the place where Dace stands. “Guess this seemed more important.” I reach for his hand, lace my fingers with his.
    “Ditto.” He grins, his icy-blue gaze fixed on mine. Though it’s only a moment later when he’s frowning at the spring once again.
    “More fish?” I ask. “Or, God forbid, something worse?”
    He shakes his head and prods the stick into the water once more. Swishing it around a few times before he tosses it aside and says, “Not worse, just weird. From what I can tell, it’s perfectly clear.”
    “But that’s a good thing, right?” I crane my neck to get a better look. Confirming that the water is indeed back to the way I first encountered it—bubbling, enticing, and free of dead, bloated fish. But one look at Dace tells me he remains unconvinced.
    “There’s no doubt they’ve gone—but where did they go?” he asks.
    I screw my mouth to the side and stare hard at the spring. Noticing for the first time how everything about this place appears brighter, lusher, than all the other times we were here. The vines are springier—their blooms fatter. Even the water seems extra sparkly. The bubbles skimming the surface resembling delicate crystal orbs that float ’til they pop and then reform again.
    “It’s like it’s been restored.” I blink, stare, blink again—unwilling to trust what I see. Glancing at Raven and wondering if he’s maybe not nearly as corrupted as I thought.
    Is there a small part of him that’s still on my side?
    Is he trying to show me that things are not as bad as I think?
    “It’s like it never happened—like it was never contaminated. Unlike the rest of this place.”
    Dace looks at me, alerted by the edge in my tone. “I came straight here. Horse led me. I haven’t had a chance to explore. Is it bad?”
    I nod. Hoping my look can convey what words can’t. I’m exhausted. My feet hurt. My finger is still a bright angry red, only now it’s swollen to twice its normal size. I study the spring once again, longing to take a quick dip. Surely a short break will rejuvenate me enough to go hunting again?
    I kneel beside the water, about to immerse my finger, when Dace stoops beside me, grasps my hand, and says, “What happened?”
    “Nothing.” I jerk free of his grip. “Really. It was just a small cut, but then I dipped it into the ocean and it came out like this. The sea is polluted. It’s awful. You gotta see it to believe it. But if this place truly is enchanted, if it truly is exempt from all the other contamination around here, if it really can heal itself, well, then it should also be able to heal me too, right?”
    Dace meets my gaze, not the least bit convinced.
    “Look,” I say, unwilling to argue. “I’ll either keep a finger or lose a finger. But either way, I have to try.”
    Then before he can stop me, I plunge my hand in. And the relief I experience is so overwhelming, it’s not long before the rest of me plunges in too.

 
    six
    I submerge myself underwater—wonderful, warm, silky, soft water. Holding my breath for as long as I can, intensely aware of my cells being rejuvenated, revived. The knots in my shoulders unraveling, while the seeping blisters on my feet shrivel and close, leaving the skin smooth and healed, bearing no trace of injury.
    My transformation complete, I spring to the surface—resurrected, reborn. Finding Dace right beside me, his icy-blue eyes glittering, his smile beckoning bright as a beacon, guiding me into his arms.
    He covers my mouth with his—our lips merging, colliding, tasting, exploring—while our tongues swirl and dance—finding and losing each other again and again. Our bodies melting, conforming, as his hands seek my flesh, causing ripples of pleasure wherever they pass. Drawing away ever so slightly, he presses his forehead flush against mine. His gaze blunted by a yearning matched by my own.
    I hasten my breath and press toward him, eager to claim his kiss once again. But Dace holds me firmly in place, voice thick with