White Whale (The Whalesong Trilogy #2) by Robert Siegel

Author:Robert Siegel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, sea, dolphins, whales, oceans, robert siegel
Publisher: Robert Siegel

Whatever rocks wrack you and rend you,

Whatever tides tear you away...

I concentrated on slowing my pulse to ease the throbbing in my head and tail. I counted slowly and focused on nothing but her words:

Deep in my heart I will breathe deeply with you.

During those next dark hours it was only the singing of Aleea that kept hope alive in my heart; otherwise I would have despaired, surrendering to the blackness of my thoughts. I cannot tell you what she sang, for after a while she abandoned the songs we both knew and began a new song of her own. What she said in that song sent fire and strength through me as she shared the deepest thoughts and feelings of her heart. I knew then that if I died in this pond, I would die content with what she had told me.

I must have slept, for the next thing I knew the air was cold and the sky black, the stars scattered across it like bright scales. I looked up and saw no Leaping Whale. That constellation was not visible from this side of the world, but I saw the starry image of Ohobo striding with his bright harpoon at his side. This image gave me hope, for I recalled how each time Ohobo came after us in a rage, we whales outwitted him.

Then I heard again what had waked me: a splash at one end of the pond, followed by some clicking of rocks and another splash. At the same time, I heard a low call and knew Mark had returned. Eagerly I swam to the inlet. Mark was carrying away some of the smaller rocks. He waded in and placed a hand gently on my bruised upper lip.

“So, you are awake,” he said. “What do you feel?”

“Pain,” I sang back to him, “though my head is no longer throbbing.”

The tide had risen and was only a couple of hours from the flood. The pebble bar itself was already underwater, but the rocks and boulders made an impassable wall.

“I will clear away what I can of the rocks,” Mark said. “I can’t do much about the boulders.”

He went back to work. Splash...splash—rock after rock landed in the pond to one side. He worked for an hour, and the tide had risen farther, but the boulders still stuck out of the water like big, jagged teeth. The surface was clam and reflected the stars. A black shadow moved up on the far side of the boulders. It was Aleea. Each could see a little bit of the other’s silhouette through the gaps in the rocks.

Mark wrapped his flippers around one boulder and made grunting noises, pressing his flukes against another. It did not budge. He tried this twice more and, letting his breath out in a long sigh, waded out to me again.

“Nothing,” he said. “I couldn’t move it one pebble’s-length.” There was a scraping noise behind him and he turned. Aleea was pressing a large boulder from the other side—pushing with all her might—and it moved a little.

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