Dolphin Knight

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Dolphin Knight

  By

  Robert T. Jeschonek

  Chapter One

  Raka Sharksblood was afraid of the water.

  This wasn't the best thing for a girl who lived on an island. This wasn't helpful for a princess whose people's lives revolved around the sea.

  But Raka couldn't help herself. She couldn't stand to be near the water. The very sight of even a mild low tide lapping at the beach filled her with fear. The sound of crashing waves on a stormy night was enough to paralyze her with terror.

  She had been this way for as long as she could remember, much to the consternation of her father, King Ikaz. While Raka's mother, Queen Perza, had made only limited efforts to get Raka to deal with her fear, single-minded Ikaz had driven her to fight it.

  But nothing that Ikaz or anyone else did ever made any difference. As a little girl, whenever anyone had dragged her to the water's edge, Raka had screamed and fought her way free and run away from the ocean. The few times when she had been taken out in a boat, she had thrown such violent tantrums that the oarsmen had quickly rowed her ashore for fear that she would overturn the boat.

  Once, when she had been no older than four or five, Ikaz had put her in a carrying pouch on his back and waded into the surf, hoping to help her get used to the water while she was safely strapped to his shoulders. That time had been the worst of all. Raka had kicked and hit him until her feet and hands were sore; even through the dense, dark jumble of his tattoos, the black-and-blue marks from Raka's blows could be seen on his back and shoulders and sides and chest for days.

  Nothing, it seemed, could cure Raka's fear of the sea.

  As she had grown older, her father had stopped trying to drag her or carry her or trick her into entering the water, though he had never stopped trying to talk her into it. For the most part, Raka had been able to stay far from the shore, keeping to the village and the dry, grassy fields that carpeted the interior of the island.

  But things were changing for her now. She couldn't avoid the ocean for much longer.

  All because she would turn fifteen years old in two weeks.

  That was why she now sat atop a hill overlooking the beach and stared out at the sparkling blue water through her windblown red hair, chewing her fingernails and trembling. The ocean was there, all around her, as it always had been, but it seemed to be closing in around her now. She felt as if the island were shrinking, pushing her closer and closer to the vast, unknown gulf into which she was destined to fall.

  And no one else on the island felt the same way. In this place where the people spent most of their time in the sea, hunting and farming and fighting and playing in the sea, Raka was absolutely alone in her fear.

  It was bad enough that she looked different from everyone else, that she was the only person on the island who had red hair instead of black. That in itself set her apart...but her fear of the water made her feel like a complete outsider. She was a princess, so no one would say it to her face, but Raka knew that they must think of her as a freak. No one understood.

  But one person, at least, tried to understand. His name was Bey Stormchaser, and he was one year older than she. He was her best friend...her only friend. He sat beside her on the hill; just the fact that he was there made her feel a little better.

  "So what are you going to do on your Rebirth Day?" said Bey, mending a torn section of his fishing net as he spoke. "Still thinking about pretending to be sick?"

  "I won't have to pretend," said Raka, nibbling on a thumbnail. "I feel sick right now just thinking about it."

  Bey nodded and continued weaving strands of kelp fiber into the gap in his net. "They should just let you skip the whole thing," he said. "After all, you're the king's daughter. You should be able to do what you want."

  "I wish," said Raka. "Father says that's all the more reason why I have to do it. I have to prove I'm a leader, which I already told him I don't even want to be a leader."

  "Huh," said Bey. "So if he wants you to prove you're a leader, why don't you kick out the king and change the rules so you don't have to swim on your Rebirth Day?"

  That got a smile out of Raka, which wasn't easy these days. She had been so caught up in worrying about her Rebirth Day, she had not laughed for weeks.

  It was like a terrible storm was heading straight for her, and she couldn't possibly get out of its way. In two weeks, when she turned fifteen, she would have to attempt the Rebirth Day rite whether she liked it or not.

  Following tradition, Raka would dive or be dropped from a canoe in deep waters. From that point, one of two things would happen: she would make her way back to the island, triumphantly riding on the back of a shark who would be her steed and partner from that day on; or she would drown. Only by undergoing this rite--and surviving--would she be considered an adult among the Sharkites.

  For other fifteen-year-olds, Rebirth Day wasn't the nightmare that it seemed to Raka. Without exception, the other children on the island swam and talked to sharks from an early age. Some kids, when it came time for their Rebirth Days, already had shark partners picked out and had secretly made arrangements to meet and return with them.

  But how was Raka supposed to do any of this when she couldn't even bear to go near the ocean, let alone swim and shark-speak? And how could she survive the deep water when she lacked a crucial ability that all other Sharkites possessed?

  She couldn't breathe underwater.

  Sharkites were born with gill slits--three on each side of the throat--and were able to breathe water as easily as air from the moment of birth. No Sharkite in memory had been born without gills...except Raka. She had never been able to breathe underwater, though she had only tried a few times, and then not by choice. This, of course, intensified her fear of the sea...though she had always had a feeling that it wasn't the only reason for her fear.

  Her father was convinced that she did have gills, but they weren't yet working the way that they should. He believed that if Raka were placed in a situation in which she had to breathe water or die, the gills would come to life. All Raka needed was a shock to the system, he said, and she would be breathing seawater and swimming like a fish.

  Raka didn't share this opinion.

  "I wonder what it will feel like when I die," she said softly, staring at the glittering sea. "I wonder if it will hurt."

  "Maybe you won't die," said Bey. "Maybe you'll finally get your gills like your father says."

  "I won't," said Raka. She touched the sides of her throat with trembling fingers. "If they were there but just hadn't opened yet, I'd at least feel them."

  Bey stopped mending the net and let it fall in his lap. Turning to Raka, he drew her hand from her throat and held it. "I won't let you die," he said. "I'll follow you. If you're in trouble, I'll help you."

  Raka looked at him, then looked away. "You're not allowed," she said. "If we came back together, they'd just make me do it again by myself."

  "Not if we don't come back," said Bey, squeezing her hand. "Not if we run away."

  Raka shook her head. "And go where?"

  "Another island," said Bey. "One where they don't have Rebirth Days."

  Raka smiled, but only a little. "Sounds perfect," she said. "Too bad the sharks and warriors would bring us back before we could get there."

  Bey didn't seem to have a response to that. He sat for a moment, holding Raka's hand, as the waves crashed and hissed on the sand.

  "I'm not giving up on you," he told her.

  "I wish other people felt that way," said Raka as a big wave threw itself down on the beach.

  *****

  That night, Raka had a dream. She had versions of the same dream often; she had had them for as long as she could remember.

&nb
sp; Sometimes, in her dream, she was gazing at the sea from the window of her family's house. Sometimes, she was sitting on a hill overlooking the shore, as she had with Bey that afternoon. Sometimes, she was nowhere near the water, which meant that what happened in the dream shouldn't have been able to happen at all.

  Tonight, she was walking along the beach in her dream.

  As she walked, Raka realized that she wasn't afraid of the foamy waves sliding over her bare feet. For once, she felt comfortable in the surf. She enjoyed the warm sun and the salty breeze and the way the undertow pulled the sand from between her toes in a tickling rush.

  In her dream, Raka felt like she didn't have a care in the world. She had no responsibilities or destination, no worries or fear. The only thing on her mind was how pretty the blue sky looked...how the sunlight winked like fireflies on the rippling waves...how good it felt when her long, red hair fluttered in the breeze.

  And then, in the distance, she heard voices.

  At first, Raka thought they were coming from somewhere on the beach...but when she looked ahead and then behind her, there was no one as far as she could see in either direction.

  Raka turned to scan the rolling dunes above the beach. Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked one way and then another. From what she could see, the waving sea oats and bright green dune grass were the only living things up there.

  Then, she turned to face the sea. This time, when she heard the voices, she realized that they were coming from that direction.

  As she gazed out over the water, she saw what she thought were men, their shining shaved heads bobbing on distant waves. The longer she looked at them, though, the less they looked like men. Their skin was gray, not tanned and tattooed; when they tipped their heads back, she could see that they had long snouts.

  The whole time she watched them, the distant figures continued to call out from across the waves. Though she couldn't understand the language that they used, Raka somehow knew that they were speaking to her.

  They were summoning her. She could feel it. Without understanding a single word that they said, she knew that they wanted her to come with them.

  Knowing this, for the first time in her dream, she felt frightened. She stepped back out of the surf, away from the lapping tide.

  "Who are you?" she called to the bobbing figures. "What do you want with me?"

  Suddenly, one of the figures shot up out of the water. It stood there for an instant, balancing on its churning tail, its wet, sleek body gleaming in the sunlight.

  And in that instant, she knew what it was.

  Grayfish. It was a grayfish.

  Her people hunted grayfish. They ate grayfish all the time.

  She ate grayfish.

  And now the grayfish were calling to her, beckoning her to join them. Maybe they were angry. Maybe they were hungry.

  Suddenly, Raka's fear of the ocean rushed back into her. Without looking back, she ran from the surf and up over the dunes.

  Her heart hammered and she gasped for breath. She felt like she was being chased, chased by the sea, and a tidal wave was about to smash down over her like a hand and haul her away.

  Waves pounded the shore as she ran, but she could still hear the grayfish calling between them. She thought that she could make out a word, though she didn't know what it meant.

  "Cryssa..."

  That was what it sounded like, though it came from far away and she couldn't be sure.

  "Cryssa..."

  *****

  Chapter Two

  The days until Raka's Rebirth Day flew past, the way days always do when something bad is about to happen. As the fateful day raced closer, Raka became increasingly desperate to find a way to avoid it.

  One week before her Rebirth Day, she even tried something that she had tried without success at least a dozen times before. She decided to try, just one more time, to talk her father into giving her a reprieve.

  Raka went to Ikaz when he was sitting outside the house, sharpening the blade of his spear. He had been in the sea most of the day on a hunt, and he and his pack had brought back more than a dozen grayfish. Now he made ready for the next day's hunt as the last rays of the setting sun washed out into gray twilight.

  "Father," said Raka, sitting down in the dirt beside him. "I'm scared."

  Ikaz drew the sharpening stone along the gray metal blade of the spear. "You should not be," he said simply. From the way his cheek puffed out on one side, Raka could tell that he was chewing a clod of the bitter red nuts that he loved so much.

  "I'm scared that I won't come back from Rebirth Day," said Raka.

  Bringing the spear point close to his face, Ikaz blew the dust from its sharpened edge. "Everyone comes back from Rebirth Day," he said, turning the spear and taking the sharpening stone to the other edge of the blade.

  "Everyone has gills," said Raka, "but I don't."

  Ikaz gave her a look from the corner of his eye. "The wind can blow a man off a cliff," he said. "The wind can blow over an entire village. Can you see the wind?"

  Raka hated when her father talked nonsense, but she resisted rolling her eyes in annoyance. "No," she said.

  "Just because you cannot see something, that does not mean it is not there," said Ikaz. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully, then turned his attention back to his spear blade. "Your gills are there," he said. "They only need some time in the sea to make them open...and you have not spent much time in the sea, have you?"

  "No," said Raka, looking away. She sighed heavily. The conversation with her father was going about as well as she had expected.

  "And have you been praying to Char and Swik, the gods of rebirth?" said Ikaz. "Have you been praying for success on your Rebirth Day?"

  Raka didn't answer his question. "Don't make me do it, Father," she said pleadingly. "Don't let me die."

  Ikaz smiled at her, displaying his jagged teeth. He had filed them down years ago, he had said, when he had first become a warrior, so that they would resemble the teeth of a shark. The filing of teeth was a tradition that had been handed down through many generations on Shark Island...just like Rebirth Day.

  "In a few days," said Ikaz, "when you have returned from your Rebirth Day safe and sound, we will sit together like this, and I will remind you of what you just said, and we will both laugh about it. You will not believe me when I tell you what you said today."

  Raka got up and dusted the dirt from her grayfish-skin dress. "Or maybe it will just be you sitting here by yourself," she said, "wishing you hadn't sent your only child to her death."

  Ikaz's expression grew somber. "When you return from Rebirth Day," he said, rasping the sharpening stone over the edge of the spear's blade, "you will thank me."

  "Thanks for nothing," said Raka, and then she stormed off. In truth, it was about how she had expected her talk with her father would end.

  But she had hoped for more.

  *****

  That night, when Ikaz and Perza thought she was asleep, Raka heard them arguing in the other room. Their voices were low, but she caught every word that they said.

  "How can you make her do this?" said Perza, her mother. "You know she isn't like the other children."

  "Of course she is," said Ikaz. "She has two arms and two legs, doesn't she? She has two eyes and two ears and a nose and a mouth."

  "She's not a water-breather," said Perza. "Are you blind? She has no gills!"

  "She has them," said Ikaz. "She's just a late bloomer. Is it any wonder? She has hardly been in the water because of that fear of hers."

  "Maybe she has the fear because she can't breathe water!" said Perza.

  "No," said Ikaz. "When she's forced to use them, the gills will open."

  "And what if they don't?" said Perza.

  "They will."

  "But what if they don't? What if she dies? Who will be your heir to the throne then?"

  "First of all, my wife," said Ikaz, "they will open. She will not die. But let me ask you a question now.
It is a question you already know the answer to, whether you want to admit it or not."

  Ikaz paused. "What good is a queen of the Sharkites if she cannot lead her people on the hunt in deep waters? What good is a queen if she will not lead her warriors into battle astride a shark on the storm-tossed waves?"

  Perza didn't answer.

  "It hurts me to say this," said Ikaz, his voice softening, "because I love my daughter as if she were my own flesh and blood...but such a queen would be no good at all."

  The next time Perza spoke, she was sobbing. "I love her so much," she said. "I don't want her to die."

  "Trust me," said Ikaz. "She will be fine."

  After that, the two of them fell silent. Raka kept listening, though, eyes wide in the darkness. She kept listening to what her father had said as it repeated over and over again in her mind: "Such a queen would be no good at all."

  Raka couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time she played it back, she felt sick to her stomach.

  But that wasn't the one that made her cry. Something else her father had said kept Raka up all night, weeping silently in her hammock.

  By the time the light of dawn swelled through her window, these were the only words Raka could think about:

  "I love my daughter as if she were my own flesh and blood..."

  "...as if she were my own flesh and blood..."

  *****

  Later that morning, Raka found Bey on his way to the spring in the middle of the island. He carried two empty clay jugs suspended from a pole braced across his shoulders.

  Falling into step beside him, Raka told him what she had heard her parents say the night before. Bey frowned with increasing intensity as he listened to her story.

  When she got to the part where Ikaz said he loved her as if she were his own flesh and blood, Bey stopped walking. The jugs swung crazily on the pole as he whirled to face her.