A Kingdom Beneath the Waves

by Bowles, David;

  Johnny raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Merfolk?”

  “Yes. You know, tritons and sirens. Similar to men or Little People, but with fish-like—”

  “No, I get what they are, Pingo. Mermaids and, uh, mermaid-men or whatever. I’m just a little freaked they exist.”

  Wow, really? Mermaid-men? It’s mermen, Johnny. Or tritons, like he just said. Carol’s voice in his head carried with it hints of exasperation and suppressed amusement.

  “Sure they exist. They have for tens of thousands of years. You see, merfolk are survivors of the Fourth Age of the world.”

  “Like the giants before them,” Johnny’s father muttered in awe.

  Pingo tilted his head in surprise and nodded soberly. “Yup. Like the mighty giants themselves, Doc, those dwindling remnants of the very first sun. Merfolk were once a lot like humans, but the Feathered One transformed them so they could survive the Deluge that destroyed the Fourth Age. Those close to these shores later had truck with the Nahua tribes, like my own folk did, and we older species use Nahuatl as a sort of lingua-franca amongst ourselves now. In that tongue, the merfolk of Tapachco call themselves the Atlacah.”

  Since assuming the form of Huitzilopochtli in his last adventure, Johnny had found—to his father and sister’s great chagrin—that he now understood classical Nahuatl like a native.

  “The Water Dwellers.”

  “Yes. Well, the Atlacah of Tapachco are ruled by a king and queen whose greatest treasure is their beloved children: Princess Anamacani and Prince Maxaltic. But Maxaltic, for reasons unclear to us, has gone rogue, plumb crazy. During the approach of the recent hurricane, he fled the kingdom and gathered together a dark army of beings: ahuitzomeh—water hounds, a shape Johnny knows from his adventures in the Underworld—as well as tlacamichimeh—”

  “We were just talking about them,” Carol interrupted. “Scaly man-fish.”

  “I reckon that’s a good description, sure. And wayxocob—deadly smart sharks. Rumor is that Maxaltic has recruited them to help him find the Cehuallocozcatl, the Shadow Stone, which was used thousands of years ago to sink the ancient nation of Atlan and nearly flood the world.”

  Carol visibly shuddered at the weapon’s name. Johnny’s gut clenched as he remembered the shadow magic that had almost overwhelmed her in Mictlan.

  “Apparently,” Pingo went on, “the prince believes he can use this jewel to unite merfolk and all other sentient marine beings against humanity. Celic—the hermit triton who shared this information with my elders—reckons he wants to flood the world again. We tzapame have reflected on what you two discovered in Mictlan, and our leaders figure that Maxaltic is being manipulated by water elementals under orders from Tezcatlipoca.”

  “I knew it,” Carol whispered, averting her face for a moment. When she looked back at Pingo, there were tears in her eyes, but her jaw was set firmly. “How do we stop him?”

  Johnny wanted to high-five her. My sister freaking rocks.

  “You’ve got to go down there, you and Johnny. To Tapachco. You’ve got to convince the King and Queen to send an army against their son. You’ve got to fight alongside them, and use your powers to make sure Maxaltic never gets his hands on the Shadow Stone. Our elders have called on the Feathered One, and he has…let them know that you will once again be aided in the hour of your greatest need.”

  Mrs. Garza drew a sharp breath. “That doesn’t make me feel very confident, Pingo, about sending my thirteen-year-old children into the depths of the sea.”

  “I understand, Verónica. I’ve brought a few items.” From his leather sack, the tzapatzin drew out a necklace and bracelet, similar to what he’d given the twins that summer, strung with bone and teeth and other strange bits. “These should help you assume a shape for nearly any circumstance.”

  Johnny reached out and took his bracelet, slipping it over his right wrist.

  I had forgotten how freaking awesome this feels, he thought to his sister, who was pulling her necklace over her unruly brown hair.

  Amen to that.

  Dr. Garza had been silent for a while. Looking at Johnny and Carol carefully, he shook his head. “It’s not enough. What about protection? What about weapons?”

  Pingo nodded. “I reckon there’ll be weapons aplenty in Tapachco. But as for protection…If I know Johnny, he packed Huitzilopochtli’s cloak even for holiday.”

  “What? M’ijo, ¿no te dije que dejaras esa cosa en casa?”

  Johnny prickled a little at this. “Yeah, Mom, like I’m going to leave a thousand-year-old magical cloak at the house back in Donna. I’m sure the home security system will keep it safe from demons and dark gods.”

  “Good,” Pingo said, cutting off any further response. “I’ve brought something darn near the same for you, Carol—the Robe of Mayahuel.”

  He pulled a shimmering green garment from his bag and placed it in Carol’s hands. It looked like layers and layers of sheer leaves woven together with ancient sorcery. Johnny had to admit it was beautiful.

  “Oh, wow,” Carol breathed as she lifted the robe, rubbing the fabric between her fingertips. “Look at how it catches the moonlight!”

  “Mayahuel. She was the only tzitzimitl to reject destruction.” Johnny was surprised at the reverence in his father’s voice as he reached out to touch the robe. “She joined with Quetzalcoatl against her sisters.”

  Dr. Garza’s hand clenched into a fist.

  “But she was destroyed by those ancient star demons, Pingo. Can you swear to me that my daughter will be safer than she was?”

  Pingo lifted his glowing stone as if to better see the man’s face.

  “I can swear no such thing, Oscar Garza. All our lives hang in the balance, partner, and who’s to say what the future brings? But I will remind you of this—Mayahuel was destroyed, that she was. But the Feathered One sealed her sisters up where they could do no more harm, then he gathered his beloved’s bones and brought her back to life. Sure, sometimes we blessed creatures—children of his hands—teeter on the verge of despair at our weakness. But what can we do but our very best, trusting in those mightier than us to figure out the rest?”

  “I just remembered something really important.”

  Johnny turned to look at Carol, whose face seemed unnaturally pale in the light of the moon and Pingo’s magical rock.

  “What, Sis?”

  “I had a dream when we were driving here. It was you, Dad. You were inside the temple at El Chanal. The water started rising from the pool, getting higher and higher. Then it was like Tezcatlipoca was speaking through you.”

  Pingo turned sharply to face her. “What did he say?”

  “Uh, something like, ‘Are you ready, child? It’s now your turn. Let’s see how far you can bend.’ I think…I think it has to do with the Shadow Stone. He knows how cehualli affects me. His shadow magic nearly killed me last time.”

  Their parents started shaking their heads and talking at once, telling Pingo to find other champions, forbidding the twins to go to Tapachco, generally freaking out. Carol was trying to reason with them. Their voices got louder and louder.

  Johnny let them go on for a few seconds, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he had to yell. “That’s enough! Shut up, all of you!”

  Everyone fell silent and stared at him in shock.

  “You’re forgetting something. Tezcatlipoca isn’t going to kill us. That’s not his deal, hello. He wants to use us. He’s trying to make us into weapons, remember? Talking about the star demons, he wants to bust them out. But he can’t. Only savage magic can, and we’re the only ones who’ve got it. So there aren’t any other damn champions, Mom and Dad. And there won’t be death, I’m betting. What there will be is a buttload of temptation and stress. But me and Carol? We got this. We walked through nine levels of freaking hell together. We are each other’s defense, guys. Cloaks and swords and all are great, but I’ve got her back and she’s got mine. So let’s get this freaking show on the road before Prince Mazel-tov or what
ever the hell his name is floods the world faster than global warming.”

  His dad glowered at him for a moment, and then his face relaxed. A tear ran down the side of his nose. “Oh, Juan Ángel, my son, you amazing man. Okay. You’re right, of course.”

  Mrs. Garza took a little longer to unclench, but she finally nodded. “Bien. But your father and I aren’t just going to sit on our hands. There has to be something we can do as well.”

  “There must be a reason Tezcatlipoca appeared to you in my form and at El Chanal, Carol. Waters rising…Maybe he wants to flood the tunnels for some purpose. To keep us from finding something? I’ll dig into the lore, see whether there is a tool of some sort that can counteract the Shadow Stone. Maybe it’s there, at the temple or in the apiyaztli.”

  “How do the twins get to San Benedict, Pingo? That’s in the Revillagigedo Archipelago, isn’t it? Almost a thousand kilometers off shore. Don’t tell me you expect them to swim all that way!”

  “No, Verónica, that would take entirely too long, and they would get lost right quick. They’ll be going by boat. A group of Little People are making arrangements with a captain who lives nearby. His family had a long tradition of trading with the Atlacah, but in recent years they’ve been a mite cut-off from the merfolk. We’re offering him a deal that’ll turn their fortunes around. Lots of pearls in the sea, if you catch my meaning.”

  “That’s still, what, a three-day journey? I’m going with them. Oscar? Did you hear me? That way we can do some last-minute training and practice, and I can make sure the boat stays there until they return to the surface.”

  Johnny knew his father wouldn’t argue. There wouldn’t have been any point, and besides, she was clearly right.

  Instead, Dr. Garza stood and drew them all into an embrace.

  “We never asked for this burden. But it’s ours, Garza family. Together, we are stronger than we ever would be singly. Each in our own way, we’re going to play a part in stopping this menace. Just remember how much we love one another, what we mean to one another. That’ll sustain us, always.”

  ~~~

  By the second day at sea, Johnny had taught his sister how to use the robe and savage magic to clothe herself however she wanted. He had to admit she was better at this than he was, conjuring up clothes that would have looked pretty good hanging on racks in the swankiest of stores in La Plaza Mall.

  Their mother put them through their paces a final time, having them quickly shift between forms and hold were-shapes in between till they were growling with exhaustion.

  “Wow,” she said, morphing into her human self behind a privacy screen where she had left her clothes, “this younger generation of naguales sure wimps out fast.”

  “Oh, no, you didn’t,” shot Johnny with a mischievous grin. “Smack-talking mom gives her kids a dressing down while getting dressed. Too bad you don’t have any savage magic, huh, Mrs. Seasoned Jaguar?”

  “I can’t believe you went there,” his mother said, laughing as she emerged. “Age jokes? That’s scraping the bottom of the barrel, even for you, Juan Ángel. But, come on, you two. Shifting is hungry work.”

  As evening edged the sky darker, Johnny followed his mother and sister down from the sun deck of the Estela de Mar—the largish live-aboard boat that was carrying them to the Revillagigedo Islands—to the dining room on the lower deck. There they joined Captain Sandoval and his three sons—Rey, Arturo and Nelson—for dinner. The captain’s brother, Cristóbal, had remained on the bridge.

  “We should arrive in the early morning,” Sandoval informed them in Spanish. “We have supplies for nearly a month at sea. Do you think that will be enough?”

  Johnny swallowed his mouthful and nodded before his mother could respond. “Yes, sir. I’m sure we’ll be done before that.”

  “But you said you have a secondary plan, correct?” his mother clarified. “Just in case?”

  “Certainly. I have colleagues who would be willing to bring more fuel and food, should we need it.”

  “We won’t,” Johnny insisted.

  The three young Sandoval men were silent, but like always, their eyes were wide as they shot furtive glances at Johnny and especially Carol.

  Still weirded out by the shapeshifters. And I’m guessing they think Carol’s cute or whatever. I’d tell them off, but she can handle herself fine without me butting in. Heck, they’re probably already scared half-to-death of her after our practice sessions on the sun deck, heh.

  “In any event,” the captain continued, “once you have made contact with the merfolk, they can always send messengers to the surface to inform us of any delay. We can then make adjustments accordingly.”

  Carol nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve been meaning to ask, Captain—how did your family start this relationship with the Atlacah?”

  “Well, you see, back before the Spanish Conquest, much of the state of Colima was part of the kingdom of Colliman, where lived the Tecos or Colimecas, my ancestors, who spoke a dialect of Nahuatl and were distantly related to the Aztecs. Now, the Colimecas had openly traded with the merfolk for centuries, but after Cortés came, that changed. King Colimotl struggled valiantly against the Spaniards, but in the end our nation fell. The king’s eldest son, however, made a pact with the Atlacah to provide them with the dry-land goods they needed, an exclusive treaty that lasted for 500 years until some foolishness on the part of my father. Luckily for my family, this crisis affords us a chance to right that wrong and re-establish our agreement.”

  “Good,” Johnny’s mom said curtly. “You’ll be motivated to stay until they’re done with their mission.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. We have no plans to abandon your children. That is not our way.”

  Johnny wasn’t worried. If anyone could make the Estela de Mar stay in place till they returned, it was Verónica Quintero de Garza.

  ~~~

  After a bit of stargazing—the night sky dazzled, undiminished by the glow of civilization—the three of them retired to their cabins.

  Johnny knew he needed a good night’s rest, but the prospect of heading into the unknown depths of the ocean kept him tossing and turning until the early morning hours. Not even the special playlist of aquatic-themed dubstep tunes he’d created could relax him enough.

  His biggest concern was sleep. Not now, on the eve of the adventure, but once they were beneath the waves. In Mictlan, they avoided sleep. They had no need for it. But if they spent weeks underwater, they were going to have to.

  And what if we shift into human form once we’re dreaming? We’ll drown, be crushed by the pressure.

  Finally, he had an idea. He sought his tonal, finding his animal soul quiescent deep within him. He nudged it forward, gave it control, but told it to sleep. Then he drifted into the calm formlessness of his deepest self and knew nothing more for a time.

  Johnny! Johnny, what the heck, man? Why are you shifted into a jaguar? Wake up! We’re here. Time to get moving.

  He pulled himself to the surface of his mind, twisted the cloak into loose-fitting pajamas and became a teenage boy again.

  “Hey,” he said aloud with a yawn. “I solved the sleeping problem, Carol. No risk of drowning when your tonal is in charge and goes to sleep.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that,” she said. “Smart. But come on, man. They’re waiting for us up on deck. Showtime.”

  They clambered up ladders to the sun deck. Shrouded in mist to starboard was San Benedicto Island, a sandy brown mass of rocky cliffs teeming with birds. The sea around them glittered like liquid turquoise. Johnny felt a shiver of awe—a sense of destiny—dance along his nerves.

  “Okay,” his mother said, leaning in close to the twins. “This is it. I won’t tell you to be safe, to stay out of danger, because the whole point of this is for you to face a danger the rest of us can’t. But stay together and rely on each other like you’ve learned. You’re smart, both of you, and you’ve got good hearts. Follow what you know is true. Pray to the Mother
when you find yourself in need. May God bless and keep you, my beloved children. Now go. Go.”

  Johnny reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Take care of yourself, Mom. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  Carol gave her a hug and a kiss, and the twins descended a ladder into the warm Pacific. Treading water for a moment, Johnny raised an eyebrow at his sister.

  “So, what do you think? Manta ray?”

  She laughed. “Oh, you know it.”

  They each pinched a tooth between forefinger and thumb and shifted.

  Chapter Four

  Exhilarated, Carol dove deep, beating her broad pectoral fins like wings, water streaming through her gills. The ocean darkened, but her excellent eyes adjusted, and other senses kept her fully aware of her surroundings.

  Beside her, Johnny also rocketed downward. He waggled his small dorsal fin as he pulled slightly ahead.

  Pingo said there would be a vent about 500 meters down on the north side. See any sign of it yet, Sis?

  No. I’m checking for bubbles. Water’s getting colder, so you’ve got to figure the caverns are warmer and the outflow will stir up the ocean.

  Yeah, okay. If you say so, Bill Nye.

  She ignored his snark and continued to scan the widening roots of the island. After another five minutes she sensed rather than saw the opening, which was hidden beneath an outcropping.

  We’re here, Johnny. Follow me in.

  They found themselves in a broad sort of slanting shaft, where they had to really beat their fins against the flow of the warm stream to advance. The descent seemed interminable, but just as Carol was beginning to wonder if this was the right entrance, they suddenly emerged into a vast semi-circular chamber, a kilometer long and twice that deep, which was brightly lit from below by magma streams. Strange coral reefs jutted regularly from the outer wall, broken here and there by glowing grottoes closer to the molten rock.