Page 29 of They Call Me Blue

“The Korring-Marr doesn’t want anyone to know about this place.

You’ll find yourself physically unable to speak of it when you leave here.

Elves may lack magic, but our Great Tree doesn’t.

You’ll see soon enough.” Elder Risha redirects her attention to my sister.

“Nirissa, what else can you tell the recruit about the Deep?”

“Hmm . . .” She bounces from foot to foot. “Some people like to bathe in the hot springs. That’s ok as long as you stay out of the ones with the roots. Around the edges of the cavern are study and prayer rooms. Those are off-limits. You can’t take weapons around the Tree. Obviously.”

Like I’d ever go anywhere unarmed.

Five daggers are in plain sight—two sheathed at my hip, another two at my thighs, a fifth strapped to my bicep.

They’re lucky I didn’t bring the bandolier this time.

Still, Elder Risha narrows her gaze at me in distaste.

Fuck if I care. She doesn’t have the power to disarm me.

No one does—not even Lyrick with his two hundred and eleven kills.

“What makes the Korring-Marr look like that?” Chest Wound asks, thumbing the gemstone-like bark. “Is it something you add to the soil?”

Elder Risha smiles. “No. It’s nothing we do. Legends say there’s a Korring-Marr on every planet. Most of them look like the ones in Kariss, but the colorful ones like ours indicate the birth of a new god. We believe that god will one day free us from the elgrew.”

I snort.

“Do you have something to say, Arden?” Elder Risha asks.

“Waiting for a savior is a bullshit excuse for the priests and priestesses to sit around and do nothing. It’s no better than the elves topside who hide behind their trees while we do all the actual fighting.”

“You think our work is cowardly?” Elder Risha challenges.

Her voice is cool and calm. “It’s the high priests and priestesses who keep our Great Tree alive, and it’s the Great Tree that allows us to strategize our largest battles.

You’re no better than us, just because you’re good at stabbing things.

Nirissa, would you like to show your sister what we’ve been working on this week? ”

My sister beams up at her. “For real?”

“For real.”

Jumping up and down, she swings the robe from her shoulders and it goes floating to the floor, blending seamlessly into the obsidian slab.

Nirissa sets her twiggy doll on top of it and approaches the Korring-Marr’s trunk, or rather the pool surrounding it.

An herbal, decaying stench rises from the steaming green water.

Clear glass-like roots jut from the surface, covered in lumpy paste.

My sister tiptoes into the pool, lowering herself chest deep into the putrid water. She ducks beneath the roots and latches on, hugging them the way she does her twiggy doll.

“Some people are born with the ability to communicate with the Korring-Marr,” Elder Risha says. “Your sister has a far greater, far rarer gift. She’s a conduit. Not only can Nirissa speak to the Great Tree, but she can share its thoughts with others. Go on. Show them.”

Bug whispers something in that strange language, and the roots around her start to glow—a soundless harmony that radiates up the braided bark. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull and she dunks her head beneath the water’s surface, vanishing into murky green.

Air bubbles rise and pop. A minute passes. Two.

Each moment she doesn’t surface is agonizing.

I charge after her, but Risha blocks my path, shoving her arm into my chest. “Nirissa knows what she’s doing. Look.”

The hot spring ripples and hazy images flare to life, swirling across the pool in a blur of colors.

Silver ramparts. Narrow tunnels coated in shimmering blue dust. A diadem made from elf bones and a blue palm scarred by thirty-eight tooth marks.

The images flicker faster— too fast for my brain to track.

A pair of eyes blink open, revealing irises as opalescent as the Tree.

Shredding the images, my sister emerges from the water, choking and gasping for air.

I rush to her then, and the High Priestess Supreme doesn’t stop me—no, her gaze has this faraway, distracted look to it.

Water splashes. Wet warmth seeps into my hide pants as I pull Nirissa away from the roots and into my arms, asking her if she’s alright, patting her back to get the water out.

My sister clings to me, her whole body shaking like a leaf as she buries her face into my chest.

“I’ve never been down that long before,” she whispers. “I’m so tired, Arri.”

Her eyes close and her body goes limp.

Carrying Nirissa from the pool, I stomp toward Elder Risha. “What the fuck was that?”

“The Korring-Marr doesn’t speak in words,” she says. “It shows us things, and it’s our job to decipher the meanings. I—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Why is my baby sister risking her life for this shit? She’s supposed to be studying books, not . . . this. ” I gesture to the pool. “I don’t care how gifted she is. She’s a child, Risha.”

Blood pounds in my ears, muffling her response.

But I’m not interested in her excuses. Snatching up Nirissa’s cloak and twiggy doll, I storm off toward the exit.

Clumsy footfalls follow close behind— Chest Wound .

He scrambles to keep up, but Elder Risha yanks him back, her fist curling around his vest.

“Let her go. We need to talk.”