Return of the Paladin

by Layton Green

  “You see,” Riga said, her wide mouth contorting into a grimace, “Zagath is a liar. One of the reasons the Temple of Dagarithaloggathva—shall we call it Dagavi?—was chosen to hold the Trident is because it lies at a depth too deep for the gills of a mermerus.”

  “I didn’t realize they were limited,” Adaira said.

  “Oh, yes. Even a hundred fathoms is unobtainable to them.”

  “But couldn’t a kethropi retrieve it?”

  “Kethropi have no desire for such an item,” she said contemptuously. “Still, realizing that an unscrupulous sort might be swayed to retrieve it for a fee, the location was chosen to dissuade kethropi as well. The temple belongs to the ruins of a lost civilization that now lies deep beneath the ocean, far from our cities.”

  Beside him, Val could see Dida’s curved nose twitch with excitement.

  “Intriguing,” Adaira said.

  “Perhaps, perhaps not. The civilization was rudimentary, as you will see from the crude temple design. Civilizations have risen and fallen on Urfe for years untold, perhaps hundreds or even thousands of millennia, and we are not a people who dwell on archaeological concerns. Yet we are not, unfortunately, a people without superstition. The area of the ocean in which these ruins are found is a small one, and one which our people believe is inhabited by ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Adaira echoed.

  “Just like surface dwellers, we too have our fears of the dark. Many centuries ago, expeditions were mounted to the area in which this temple rests. None returned, giving rise to the legend that the ghosts of this lost civilization lure visitors to their doom. Nonsense, of course. Yet something happened on the expeditions, and the only sanctioned visit in the past few centuries was to dispose of the Trident.”

  “Zagath mentioned runes of some sort,” Val said. “On a door.”

  Riga emitted a string of squishy syllables Val suspected was a curse. “More evidence of his lies. Zagath could not possibly know anything about the temple beyond what the legends say, and there are certainly no reports of any runes. I suppose the Trident could still be there, though perhaps some sea creature has dragged it away. I know not. If you must go, please be careful in these waters. In fact, I’ll be sending a regiment of kethropi to guide you.”

  Val said, “That isn’t necessary—”

  “Thank you,” Adaira said, smoothly cutting him off. “The Congregation very much appreciates the thoughtful gesture.”

  Riga crossed her arms and gave a sinuous half-bow.

  Hours later, Val squatted on the floor of his bedchamber, peering down at the ocean through the glass floor. They had just finished a dinner of the freshest, most delicious sashimi he had ever had in his life, accompanied by a spectacular seaweed salad and a bottle of imported rice-wine from the Nippon Islands. Riga had dined with them, and the conversation had lingered long after they finished. He and Dida were scheduled to depart for the ruins at first light.

  Schools of minnows and tropical fish darted to and fro beneath the glass. A short way down, backlit by an aquamarine light that illuminated the ocean to a depth of a hundred feet, he could see the glow of Kethropi City, a watery glimpse of slender towers and underwater bridges and geometric collections of transparent spheres that had the appearance of bubbles captured in midstream. It was all interwoven among a vertical, kaleidoscopic coral reef which Val guessed a kethropi wizard had adapted to suit the city. He wished he could visit more of it, and that his brothers were with him to appreciate the experience.

  The sheer bizarreness of his surroundings made Val miss home desperately, and especially his brothers. It was one thing to journey to an entirely new world and appreciate its wonder and beauty—and another thing to do it alone.

  Someone knocked on the frond-shaped door of the bedroom.

  “Come in.”

  Adaira stepped inside, latching the odd door behind her. With her hair unbound and her silver nightgown clinging to her lithe form, she was a shimmer of loveliness as she strode across the glass floor.

  All of a sudden, Val found that his loneliness had dissipated to a faint, aching whisper.

  “Be careful tomorrow,” she said.

  “I was planning on it.”

  “No unnecessary risks. I mean it. The Congregation will survive without the Coffer.”

  Val forced a reassuring smile. Unless the Trident was nowhere to be found, he had no intention of coming back without it. Too much was riding on the success of the mission: curtailing the Revolution, his standing within the Congregation, the safety of his brothers. Even his future with the woman standing in front of him, whose lightly scented perfume of sea salt and rose petals was making him light-headed. Lord Alistair wasn’t about to hand over his daughter to a failure.

  She draped her arms across his shoulder. “Listen to Dida. He’s less prone to take unnecessary risks.”

  “Until he’s presented with an opportunity for scholarly research,” Val said wryly.

  “True.”

  He noticed a shadow behind her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not Synne, is it?”

  “What? No, of course not. I may not like the fact you’re going to be in constant proximity to another woman, but I understand the mage-majitsu relationship. In fact, I wish she were here to protect you.”

  He smirked. “Is that so?”

  Adaira slid closer, brushing against him and slipping her hands into his hair. Her voice turned throaty. “Perhaps not this very instant.”

  “A majitsu’s duty only goes so far.”

  She gave him a playful smack on the cheek. “Were you this impertinent with all your past women?”

  “Only the ones I like.”

  “I see. So you do favor me?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “I happen to have noticed,” she said, flicking her tongue across his lips, “that we are no longer in New Victoria, under the watchful eye of my father’s guards.”

  “Not even on the same continent.”

  “Or on a continent at all.”

  He scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Below them, a pair of zebra fish darted into a maze of coral that resembled miniature fluted trees.

  “You’re sure there’s nothing bothering you?” he asked.

  She put a finger to his lips and smiled, trying to hide the worry in her eyes. “Just make sure to come back to me.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I will. I promise.”

  “You’re very good at telling people what they want to hear.”

  “I’m even better at following through.”

  “Let’s see about that,” she whispered, and the rest of their conversation took place without words.

  The next morning, Val and Dida were both disappointed to learn they would not be descending to view more of the city. Instead, just after dawn, a cadre of six kethropi warriors carrying long barbed spears met them on a coral platform attached to the floating residence. All of the kethropi except one, a bulky female with bright blue scales, were bobbing in the water and holding onto a ladder attached to the platform. Riga and Adaira were there as well, to see everyone off.

  Before the sun had risen, Val and Dida had donned the magical, paper-thin Skincloths. The flesh-colored mesh material even covered their faces, though Val found that he could still talk, see, and breathe.

  Riga introduced the female leader of the fighters as Kiva. Val assumed she, too, had an enchantment in place allowing her to speak and breathe. After goodbyes were said, Kiva cupped her hands to her mouth and emitted an ululating cry resonant with the distinctive gargling sound of the kethropi. Minutes later, a pod of dolphins arrived, and the kethropi warriors fitted eight of them with saddles made of seaweed rope and whale bone. Another dolphin carried their supplies, including Val’s staff.

  The kethropi knew where to go. After climbing onto their frisky dolphin mount—it took Dida eight attempts—and letting the kethropi strap them in, Val kicked ab
ove the water to wave goodbye to Adaira. Her confident parting smile gave him strength as the dolphin plunged into the icy depths.

  The Skincloth allowed Val to breathe and see just as easily beneath the waves. With the taste of Adaira’s lips and smooth skin still swarming his senses, he clutched the saddle as the cetacean sped through choppy waters.

  It was not an easy ride. The dolphins were prone to diving without warning and swimming underwater for a time. For most of the ride, the landscape was the unchanging blue of deep-water ocean, swells and gulls and wind when they surfaced, strips of kelp and seaweed clinging to Val’s face and hair. According to a map of the world’s oceans Riga had shown them, he gathered they were aiming for the western part of the Atlantic, due east from the tip of Florida. He wasn’t positive, but back home he thought it would put them smack in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.

  This did not inspire confidence. Was there a correlation between the strange occurrences in this region back home, a lost civilization, and the kethropi’s fear of ghosts?

  Gripping the reins and constantly holding his breath when they plunged was very taxing. Every hour or so, the dolphins let them dismount on an island or an atoll, or even just bobbed in the water, long enough to let Val and Dida recover. When they stopped for the night on a deserted beach covered in palms, Val and Dida collapsed on the sand and, after a meal of fresh fish and coconut, slept right through to morning.

  By early evening the next day, as the sun began to sink into the pink-and-green horizon, they arrived at their destination.

  It looked no different from the unchanging watery horizon that extended in every direction as far as the eye could see. With a limp flick of her wrist, Kiva halted the dolphins and proclaimed they had arrived. Grateful beyond words the outbound journey was over, Val unhooked himself and fell back into the water, buoyed by the waves. After a meal of dried seaweed and chunks of raw tuna, Kiva gave a signal, and two of the kethropi took hold of the whale skin bag holding the weapons and supplies.

  She took out a blue glow stone and handed it to Val. “Make sure not to stray.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  Val found the descent into the lightless ocean a terrifying experience. Though beautiful—the variety of aquatic life forms took his breath away—they were free diving thousands of meters beneath the surface, solely dependent on the Skincloth for survival. What if the magic gave out? What if it had a depth limit? What if he ripped it on a piece of coral?

  Not just that, but the deeper they went, the more menacing the sea life became. A black-finned shark passed above them that must have been forty feet long, a goliath who didn’t even register their presence. Schools of electric eels, puffer fish, and spiny lionfish drifted past. A few hundred feet down, a family of seahorses as big as buffalo darted towards them, forcing the kethropi to brandish their spears. Val reared in shock when a fish with enormous jaws, its dagger-like teeth glowing with bioluminescence, passed right beneath him. Yet the two creatures that caused the most alarm were a spotted blue octopus and a jellyfish with a pink body and multicolored tentacles spread around it like streamers. Kiva gave both these creatures a wide berth, rerouting their descent to avoid them.

  Dida was not the best swimmer, but he managed. Val estimated they were a thousand feet down when they first glimpsed the seabed, a mass of gray rock pitted with watery depressions that resembled the pockmarked surface of the moon.

  Just after the bottom came into view, Kiva pointed behind Val and Dida. They swiveled and saw, in the distance behind them, a low, oval-shaped building resting on the ocean floor. A short tower jutted upward from the far side of the oval. The entire structure appeared built of the same dull granite as the sea floor.

  Even stranger, they noticed as they swam closer that a set of steps extended from the flat roof of the oval building, rising straight up the side of the twenty-foot tower. He and Dida floated above it to examine it. The tower sides were made of thick stone, and the aperture was just wide enough for a person to step through. Val leaned over the edge and used the glow stone to peer inside. More steps led down, and he could just make out the stone surface of the bottom.

  As Kiva swam over, the other kethropi hovered off to the side, giving the structure apprehensive looks.

  “The temple?” Val asked, surprised he could speak this far below the surface.

  Kiva’s return nod looked unnatural, as if she were using the movement for his benefit. Whatever spell had allowed her to walk on land and use English, it had either worn off or did not work beneath the surface. She was forced to communicate with Val and Dida with hand gestures and other body language.

  “We can converse down here?” Dida said. “What a marvelous invention these Skincloths are.”

  The bibliomancer led the way as they circled the perimeter of the structure. Except for the top of the tower, there were no windows or openings of any kind. The design was rudimentary and solid.

  “Riga was right,” Dida said, disappointed. “There’s no sign of any runes.”

  “Which makes me wonder about the Trident,” Val said.

  When they returned to the top of the tower, Kiva pointed down into the opening, then opened her palm as if releasing something.

  Val got the hint. “The Trident was dropped inside?”

  She nodded again.

  “No one’s actually been down there?”

  This time she shook a finger.

  “That would have been nice information to know,” he muttered. “Dida, any idea what this place is?”

  The bibliomancer rubbed his pointed chin as he bobbed in the water. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The design of the main structure is quite primitive, and the oval shape is odd. What is the purpose of the tower? Why the steps?”

  “Does anything about the legend of Kau-Voa match what you’re seeing?”

  “I do not believe so,” he said slowly. “The presence of the granite sea-bed, however, suggests it was once dry land. We might be looking at the remains of a wholly undiscovered civilization.” He gave Kiva a sheepish glance. “Or at least undiscovered on the surface.”

  When Val breathed it felt normal, though bubbles formed outside his mouth. He hovered for a moment with his hand on the lip of the tower, thinking as he watched the bubbles drift away and dissolve. Never had he experienced a silence so vast and profound. The ocean heaved with life and mystery, and for a moment he was in awe at the wonder and terror of it all, of how life itself had started in these solemn depths.

  “I guess we’re going down there,” he said finally.

  Kiva waved her men over, and they reluctantly swam towards them, barbed spears at the ready. After conversing in their garbled language, Kiva selected one of them to go first. The kethropi she chose drew away, and Val held out a palm.

  “This is my expedition. I should be the leader.”

  Kiva tried to protest, but Val extended the glow stone and swam head first down the tower. Having no idea what lay below them, he reached for his magic and kept it ready. He assumed his spells would work this far beneath the surface, but he had no idea. Why hadn’t he discussed that with Riga?

  The steps inside the chimney descended to fifteen feet above the granite floor. As Val floated into the chamber, he righted himself and saw that the structure was just as plain on the inside, made of unadorned stone walls. Five passages exited the room through rectangular openings in the rock.

  The room was empty. No sign of the Trident.

  Dida, Kiva, and the rest of the kethropi followed him down. The lidless eyes of the kethropi darted around the water. Val didn’t blame them. The whole place was strange. Why was there an intact structure at the bottom of the ocean? Why no proper entrances?

  The five passageways were very slender, no wider than the tower chute. Val approached the entrance to each with his glow light. Except for the corridor in the middle, located opposite the bottom of the tower, each of the passages curved away in a sinuous pattern, twisting like a snake. The c
entral passage proceeded straight into the heart of the temple.

  “May I?” Dida asked, pointing at the glow stone. Val handed it over. The bibliomancer took an exploratory step into the central corridor, and then a few more. “Oh my,” he said.

  Val followed him in. “What? I don’t see anything.”

  “Look into the distance. And then at your feet.”

  Val did as he asked, then lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “It’s going down.”

  “Correct.”

  After taking a glance at the sloping tunnel, the kethropi warriors muttered amongst themselves and backed into the main chamber. Kiva made a series of hand gestures that Val interpreted as hurry up human, my men are nervous and won’t stay down here forever.

  He took the glow stone back from Dida and walked slowly down the curving passage on the far left, wishing they had someone experienced with traps. Yet no dangers arose as the watery stone corridor twisted deeper into the structure, dead-ending after a hundred feet or so at a circular chamber the size of a home swimming pool. Along the perimeter of the chamber, a set of stone steps led down a few feet and then disappeared, as if a circular basin had once existed in the center. Val walked down to shine the light into the water, but it was too dark to see.

  Had someone dug a basin at the bottom of the ocean? Or had this once been dry land?

  The kethropi stayed at the top of the steps. No one, Val included, wanted to dive down the hole that punched through the ocean floor to see what was inside.

  As he continued to shine the light around the room, they noticed the faint remnants of prehistoric rock carvings etched into the granite wall. Though too faded too make out specific images, the carvings had a fluidity that surprised Val. Not that he was an expert in prehistoric art.