But I didn’t really believe it.
Then, without warning, he was fighting for air in the grip of the Vila.
Dying before my eyes.
And I could do nothing about it.
* * *
Coreon swung his barbed crossbow from over his back to his hands.
“Spicegar?” he said. “Are you anywhere around here?”
For a moment there was silence. Then Ven felt a thrum against his temples that was like the rustling of leaves.
A soft, low voice answered. As it spoke, it was as if its vibration did not disturb the drift around it at all.
Yes. Nearby.
“Who is Spicegar?” Ven asked.
“The sea dragon,” Coreon replied. His thrum sounded as if he thought the answer was obvious. He redirected his thrum to the kelp forest. “Can you do something to distract the Vila?”
Ven thought he felt the forest sigh.
Oh, I suppose so. You know how much I detest doing that.
Ven’s head all but exploded with excitement at the sea-dragon’s thrum.
“I know, but we would appreciate it.” Coreon gestured with his head to Amariel. “Come on—bring the stone.”
The merrow reached out her webbed hand, and Ven put the air stone into it, not understanding what they were doing. She followed Coreon up to where the swirling dance of the Vila was spinning closer and closer to the surface of the sea.
Suddenly, the drift was alive with a loud hum, a clicking sound that instantly reminded Ven of something familiar he couldn’t quite place. It was a thrum so deep and widespread that it made his breathing slow down.
Then he recognized it.
It was like the purring of a giant cat.
The sound filled the forest so completely that the kelp leaves moved in time with it. The gentle, drowsy thrum became almost hypnotic.
Above his head, the swirling circle of Vila must have felt it, too. The dance slowed, and then stopped. The filmy women hovered in the drift, Char hanging between them, struggling for breath.
“Awwwwww,” the first one said. “Listen.”
“Awwwwwwwwww!” the other two echoed.
“For goodness’ sake,” Ven murmured.
With a powerful kick, Coreon was beside them a moment later. He pointed his barbed crossbow at Char’s heart.
“Let him go or I’ll shoot him,” he said to the Vila.
Ven inhaled sharply. “Er, Coreon—I’m not sure that’s such a good idea—”
The sea-Lirin boy held the crossbow up to his eye and sighted it.
“You’re right,” he said to Ven, loudly enough for the Vila to hear him. “The blood will ruin the rainwater. And it will bring the great whites. I hear their bite is so ferocious they can even tear through spirit folk like nymphs, and water sprites—and even Vila.”
The three fairy spirits looked at one another. Then, dreamily, they dropped Char’s arms and flitted smoothly away, leaving him hanging, like wilted kelp, in the drift.
“Quick!” Ven urged Amariel. “Get him the air stone!”
The merrow gave two quick sweeps of her tail. She was at Char’s side in an instant. She pressed her hand with the air stone against his chest.
“He’s not breathing, Ven.”
Coreon slid his barbed crossbow over his back again. He took hold of Char’s limp arm and pulled it around his shoulder.
“You take the other side,” he said to Amariel, “but don’t drop the stone. I’ve never seen one like it. I was wondering how humans were breathing underwater.”
“They could have had gills,” Amariel said pointedly, “but you can’t tell them anything.” She and Coreon descended to the floor of the Underwater Forest, where Ven was waiting anxiously.
“C’mon, Char, breathe,” he said, pressing his hand against Amariel’s. “You’ve got the air back. Let it into your lungs.”
Char did not respond.
“No,” Ven whispered, pushing harder. “C’mon, Char, don’t give up. Breathe. Breathe. Please.”
Coreon watched thoughtfully for a moment, then looked around at the glowing forest.
“Spicegar?”
The purring stopped.
The forest seemed to sigh again.
Suddenly, a harsh barking sound filled the sleepy kelp bed, sharp and quick and so loud that Ven’s ears popped.
Amariel and Coreon looked stunned.
A school of yellow and white fish that had been passing through, taking their time, leapt and scattered, leaving the drift empty where they had been a moment before.
And Char gasped.
Then coughed.
Then choked.
Then took a few ragged breaths.
Ven patted his friend’s back in relief.
“You’re back! Welcome back.”
Woozily Char put his palm to his eye.
“What—how—”
“Don’t try to talk,” Ven said. “Just rest and take some easy breaths.” He looked above at the waving fronds of kelp, which seemed to have grown a few Knuckles taller in the short time they had been in the forest. The gentle music had returned, and the kelp trees were swaying peacefully in the drift once more. “Er, Coreon—where’s your, er, friend?”
The Lirin-mer boy looked around. He shrugged.
“Spicegar?” he called again. “Would it be acceptable for these land-livers and this merrow to meet you?” His thrum sounded a little bored, but perhaps it was just the cracking of his voice.
“Uh—just the land-livers,” said Amariel quickly. “No offense—I’m supposed to steer clear of sea dragons. My mother said so.”
No offense taken. I understand completely. My mother told me to steer clear of merrows.
“Where are you?” Ven asked.
A little deeper in, past the stump, then to the north beyond the purple ferns.
“Follow me,” Coreon said. “I know just where he means.”
Amariel clutched at Ven’s sleeve.
“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please. It’s been a rough morning. I don’t want it to get worse by having one or more of you get eaten.”
“Yeah, I hate it when that happens,” mumbled Char.
Coreon smiled for the first time since they had met him. It made his face look totally different.
“Are you coming?” he asked. “Not a good idea to keep a sea dragon waiting.”
“Right. Let’s go,” said Ven. He glanced at Amariel. “Please come with us,” he urged. “If we learned anything from all this it’s that we should stay together and help each other.”
The merrow shook her head violently.
“I don’t want to leave you here,” Ven continued. “How can we get to the Summer Festival if you won’t pass through the forest with us? We still have to cross the Sea Desert after this. Please come along.”
The merrow crossed her arms and turned away.
Coreon rolled his eyes.
“Oh, come on, Amariel. Spicegar, can you promise not to eat the merrow? Just this once?”
Silence filled the peaceful glen. Then the thrum voice spoke, and it sounded confused.
I don’t understand.
“She’s afraid you’re going to eat her.”
Ah. Well, tell her I’m a vegetarian.
The sea-Lirin boy turned to the merrow, who was glowering stubbornly. “Hear that?”
“Yeah, I heard it,” she said. “If you believe that, you go on ahead. Maybe he thinks a sea cucumber is a vegetable.”
“Isn’t it?” Ven asked. Coreon shook his head.
Another deep sigh rumbled through the beautiful forest.
Madam, you are trying my patience. You’re also disturbing my nap. Now, I give you my word that I shall not harm you. Either come visit, or pass on your way. But get on with it.
“Yeah, as I said before, it’s not a good idea to keep a sea dragon waiting,” said Coreon. “Let’s go.”
Ven took hold of Char’s arm. “Can you help me carry him for a while, Amariel
? I think his little Vila dance took a lot out of him.”
“Hmmph,” said the merrow. She glanced around, then took hold of the other side grudgingly. “All right, Ven, you win. But if I get roasted and eaten I am never going to forgive you, remember that.”
“I will,” Ven promised with a grin. He hoisted Char’s arm around his shoulder and the merrow did so with the other. Then they followed Coreon down the forest pathway to the west, where the rising sun was casting dusty streams of light through the surface where it pooled on the top leaves of the kelp forest canopy.
They traveled in silence for a while. The deeper in they swam, the quieter the forest became. Occasionally a small school of colorful fish, larger than those they had seen on the reef, glided by, or a starfish crawled past, and once an enormous sunfish larger than the four of them put together sailed above, nibbling at the kelp. Otherwise the forest seemed almost empty.
And all around them, they could hear its song, low, easy, slow.
Char’s color was starting to improve, and while he looked very tired, the unhealthy black circles under his eyes were beginning to fade.
“You all right?” Ven asked after a while.
Char nodded. “What’s that up ahead?” he whispered.
Ven tried to see farther down the pathway. On the ground, a large, low object seemed to be taking up the entire floor of the path.
“Can’t tell yet,” he replied, “but we’ll be there soon enough. It doesn’t seem alive, at any rate.”
When they finally got close enough, Ven could see that it was what appeared to be an old, overgrown stump, the trunk torn from it long ago. But unlike the trees of the kelp forest, the largest of which had trunks as round as he was, this had been a tree of immense size, bigger around than three oxcarts side by side. It was covered with colonies of rainbow algae and lichen. Its dead roots stretched out in all directions over the forest path and into the glades of kelp and algae to the north and south.
But, strangest of all, it did not appear to be the stump of a giant kelp plant.
Instead, it looked like it had once been the base of an enormous tree of the variety that grew in the upworld, but seventy or so feet below the surface of the sea.
Unquestionably dead for a very long time.
Ven’s stomach clenched, though his curiosity was roaring inside him. He floated up high enough to pass over the massive stump and kept swimming, supporting Char until Coreon stopped next to a large bed of floating kelp past a clump of purple ferns.
Within the forest drift over the bed of kelp, small white puffballs that looked like milkweed seeds were floating. When Ven looked closer, he could see that they were actually tiny fairylike creatures, clear like the Vila, but much smaller and delicate.
“Water sprites,” Amariel said quietly. “They usually can be found near where magic is strong. They’re harmless. Thank goodness. But they’re a sign that the dragon is around here somewhere.”
Coreon pointed toward the bed of floating kelp.
“Here,” he said simply. “Spicegar, these are my companions, the merrow, the human, and the Nain.”
Pleased to meet you. The familiar soft voice seemed to come from all around them. What is a Nain?
Ven blinked to clear his eyes, but he saw nothing but the bower of kelp.
“Er, me, sir,” he said as politely as he could. “A son of the Earth.” Perhaps Spicegar is invisible, and this seaweed is a pillow for his, er, claw? he wondered.
“Where’s the dragon?” the merrow whispered.
Coreon’s kelp-like eyebrows drew together.
“Right in front of you,” he said. “Can’t you see him?”
* * *
I looked as hard as I could, but all I saw was a leafy mass of floating weeds.
Then a few of the tiny leaves rustled.
I stared at them.
And then, above what looked like a twig the size of my thumb, was a tiny eye.
Smaller than the smallest button on my shirt.
* * *
“Can you come out a little?” Coreon asked. “I think they’re having trouble seeing you.”
Another sigh filled the drift.
Oh, all right. I suppose so.
The seaweed rustled again.
A tiny creature no longer than Ven’s two hands side by side floated up out of the weeds. It was shaped a little like a sea horse, but bony. Hanging from it were appendages that looked almost exactly like leaves of seaweed, so much so that had the creature not come out of hiding, Ven knew he never would have seen it there. It had a few small spines that resembled stripes and a long, thin snout, but otherwise it looked more like a loose piece of floating seaweed than an animal.
“What the heck is that?” The merrow’s thrum exploded, disturbing the peace of the forest glen and scattering the water sprites.
Coreon pulled himself up straighter, his kelp-hair bristling in anger.
“This is Spicegar,” he said. “A little respect, if you please.”
“I thought you said he was a sea dragon.”
“I did,” Coreon insisted. “And he is.”
An ugly sound, half laugh, half choke, came out of Amariel’s throat.
“That’s no dragon,” she said. “That’s—that’s a fish!”
The low, soft thrum voice cleared what sounded like a throat. The small creature ruffled its foliage.
I am no fish, madam. If anything, I am related to the hippocampus. But I assure you, I am indeed a sea dragon.
“That’s impossible,” the merrow said. “Sea dragons are enormous creatures of immense power. They’re the size of sailing ships, giant serpents that collect hoards of treasure and defend those hoards with fiery breath that burns like acid. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
And I’ve been told that merrows are lovely creatures with sweet voices and nice manners. So I guess we have both been somewhat misled.
“Amariel,” Ven said quietly, “stop it.”
“What kind of a dragon purrs and barks, Ven? This is ridiculous.”
“You are embarrassing yourself, and us. And especially Coreon. Now stop, please.”
“Fine,” said the merrow. “Fine. At least I’m glad to know that Coreon thinks a floating salad is a dragon, and I was frightened out of my mind for nothing.”
“Well, at least you didn’t have to go too far to be that frightened,” said Coreon angrily. “Your mind is obviously pretty small.”
The merrow dropped Char’s arm, gave a sweep of her beautiful tail, and swam off deeper into the forest. Ven watched as the small, leafy creature sank back into its seaweed bed again.
“I am terribly sorry,” he said. “I apologize on behalf of myself and my friends. The situation with the Vila scared everyone and has left us all out of sorts. Thank you for what you did to save Char.”
Don’t mention it. The thrum of the sea dragon’s voice was courtly, almost as if he was amused.
“We really do appreciate—”
No, really, don’t mention it. The thrum had become slightly more annoyed, and the kelp around the fern bed shook with the vibrations of Spicegar’s undersea voice. I’d like you to move along now, if you please. You are drawing attention to my hiding place.
“Of course. Sorry. Thanks again.” Ven nodded to Coreon, who grabbed Char’s other arm, and the two of them swam off, helping him along. “Thank you.”
“That was embarrassing,” said Coreon as they continued on the path. “If that’s the way she’s going to be, I’m not introducing her to any more of my friends.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean what she said.” Ven peered into the lush green of the forest ahead of them where the movement of the merrow’s tail was making a wake in the water. He looked over his shoulder one last time at the giant stump.
“Coreon, by any chance have you heard of a tree named Frothta?”
The sea-Lirin boy nodded. “Just the old legends.”
“Do you think it still exists?”
&nb
sp; Coreon thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“Don’t think so. I’m not sure it ever did. I haven’t been too far off the reef, but I know lots of Lirin-mer who have crossed the desert and even have been down into the Twilight Realm. They tell great stories of the amazing things they’ve seen, but no one has ever mentioned seeing Frothta, or even any sign of it. Lirin-mer have been around a very long time. Most think that it may have always been a myth.”
Ven sighed.
“I wish I knew what happened to it,” he said.
They were too far away, too deep into the sleepy forest of waving towers of kelp, to hear the thrum of Spicegar’s reply.
Well, if you had asked, I could have told you.
20
The Desert Beneath the Sea
* * *
After that it was just day after day of swimming through kelp.
The days blended into each other. Amariel and Char apologized, in their own ways, to one another, and went back to the same uneasy companionship they had always shared. They both apologized, sort of, to Coreon, who continued to be silent and helpful, guiding us past places he thought were dangerous or through others he thought were especially interesting. We showed him the key that we had found in the bottle, and the paper with the word Athenry, but it didn’t mean any more to him than it did to us.
It was sort of sad that he had so little of the Cormorant’s respect, I decided after a while. I knew how that felt. Each of my siblings has a job in my father’s factory, a specialty all his or her own. My father had made me train in all of those specialties, and just when I was getting competent in one, he would appear one morning at the door, signaling for me to get my tools and follow him. He was actually training me in each different department to be his Inspector all the while, but I didn’t know that.
I only know it made me feel useless.
Until the albatross who has been watching over me since the morning of my birthday brought me a letter from my father, explaining his plan for me, that is.
The Inspector is one of the most important jobs in the family business. That’s the one I may have someday, when I finally return to Vaarn.
The Tree of Water Page 13