by Raymond Cain
Theoric knelt next to him. “I should kill you, Flynn. But I’d rather prolong your suffering. I want you to see something before you die.”
Theoric stood up and sheathed his swords. He entered the vault, picked up the crown, and held it up toward the glowdiscs in the ceiling, allowing their light to cascade off the gold and jewels. “With this, I will amass an ocean army like none seen before. At the head of it there will be a leviathan, and it will be the last thing your people ever see.”
Flynn remembered hearing about the leviathan from one of the stories. It was a creature the size of a mountain that fed on magic. Until that moment, he assumed it was mythical.
“Come on, Galyn,” Theoric said as he headed for the exit. “We have work to do.”
Flynn pushed himself up as the two men left. He watched his father walk down the hall, hoping for some sign of humanity left in the man. But Galyn did not offer so much as a glance in Flynn’s direction.
Grief overwhelmed Flynn, but he had work to do. He had to warn Seahaven about Theoric and the army he was bringing. If Theoric really could summon a leviathan, Flynn didn’t think there was anything his people could do to stop it. But if he warned them, that would at least give them a fighting chance.
Flynn got to his feet and placed a hand gingerly over his aching face. He was cut and swollen, but there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage. His breathing helm lay next to the vault and he picked it up. It was cracked on the back and he wasn’t sure if it still functioned.
As Flynn walked down the hall and headed for the exit, his side hurt even more than his face. Even more troubling was the pain of knowing that he failed everyone. He attacked Theoric with everything he had and was beaten down easily. If he was a powerful warrior, he might have been able to free his father from servitude, avenge his mother, and stop the menace that threatened his city. But he wasn’t.
“Come on, Flynn,” he said, urging himself onward. “You can dwell on the past another time. It’s time to get back to Seahaven.”
Despair weighed heavier on him with each step as he approached the exit. The door was left open and the enchanted aquazite crystals encircling it held the ocean at bay. An abundance of exotic, luminescent fish swimming near the opening reminded him of Tasker’s aquarium.
Flynn flipped the breathing helm around and studied the crack on the back. If it no longer functioned, he would likely suffocate before he made it back to his ship. If he didn’t enter the water, he would slowly die of hunger and thirst in the vault chamber while his people were destroyed. He really had only one option.
Flynn donned the helm and pressed his hands against the magical barrier. Water oozed between his fingers like thick sludge. He pushed his arms through and stepped into the dark blue water. Once he was completely immersed, a pocket of breathable air surrounded his face. The helm still worked.
A hairy angler, a red-skinned fish covered in glowing antennae, swam up to his face. It stared at him with glowing blue eyes and its face was something out of a nightmare. Its downturned mouth was filled with needle-like teeth and its stomach could expand enough to swallow fish larger than itself. He shooed at it with his hands and it swam away, likely in search of smaller prey.
The swimming boots allowed Flynn to walk along the tunnel as though it were dry land. When he reached the mountain face, there was no sign of Theoric or his gruesome vessel. The ground was thousands of feet below and the water was aglow from sharks, squid, and stingrays circling above and below him. A pair of hammerhead sharks swam a short distance above and he stepped back into the shadows until they were out of sight. After a short wait, he risked another peek and saw a group of electric eels nearby. He returned to the shadows and waited for those dangerous creatures to leave as well.
As Flynn watched the nearby sharks, he took in a nervous breath and swallowed some seawater with it. He coughed out the foul-tasting brine and inhaled again, getting another mixture of air and seawater. The cracked breathing helm was failing and he needed to get to his ship quickly. The nearest air supply was the tomb behind him but if he returned, he would be trapped there.
Flynn dove into the depths, moving fast along the mountainside while hammerheads and great white sharks circled below. Exhausted and desperate for air, he tilted the broken helm forward, moving the shrinking air pocket it created over his mouth. The manoeuvre worked and he filled his lungs, but the helm’s glow dimmed and it stopped producing air. The helm was useless.
With no air pocket over Flynn’s eyes, the depths appeared blurry. The alcove where his ship was located was an indistinct shadow indistinguishable from many others. He guessed which direction to go and swam at a measured pace, conserving what little air he had left.
A large grey shark changed direction and headed toward him. Flynn gave up the idea of conserving his air and swam as fast as he could. It felt as though he were drowning by the time he reached the alcove and he was dizzy when he neared the Searunner. The hatch doors opened and he pulled himself in, gasping for air. The shark’s snout smacked into the ship as he flipped a switch and closed the hatch doors behind him.
The shark bit down on the hull, losing a triangular tooth in the process. Flynn inhaled huge mouthfuls of air and felt relieved when the shark failed to penetrate the crystal hull. He pushed the acceleration lever forward, glancing off the shark and flying out of the alcove. He kept the Searunner’s glow switched off and headed for home.
The enormous black mouth of the Abyss stretched out before him and Flynn did not hesitate to fly over it. He needed to get back to the city as soon as possible to give his people time to prepare for the attack and a detour around the deadly chasm would add miles to his journey.
As he soared over the darkness, Flynn’s thoughts lingered on memories of his father. It sickened him to think what Theoric might order Galyn to do. He imagined Galyn wading through the city streets, slaying unsuspecting citizens until he was cut down himself.
Before he realized it, Flynn had left the Abyss behind and was most of the way home. He was only dimly aware of his passage across the Safe Zone boundary. He paid little attention to the miles of rolling hills covered in luminescent vegetation that passed below him.
The farms were overgrown since the lockdown and plant-eating fish took advantage of that by helping themselves to unprotected crops. Fields of orach were getting stripped bare by fish and wandering crustaceans. The threat to Seahaven’s food supply was concerning but, considering what Theoric had in store for them, Flynn was glad the city was still in lockdown.
Flynn approached the hidden tunnel below their home and in moments, he was ascending into the pool room. As the Searunner broke through the surface, he was not surprised to see his brother pacing back and forth in front of him, anger etched upon his face.
Flynn popped the hatch and smiled brightly. “Oh, hello, Tas…”
“Where were you?” Tasker said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, the usual. The Abyss. Battling Azurans. Swimming with sharks. That kind of thing.”
“Is that supposed to be humorous?”
Flynn handed Stingray to Tasker and walked past him into the laboratory. He stepped over an old propeller and accidentally kicked a small grinding stone, sending it rolling under one of the stone tables. There was a burnt odor in the air and Flynn wondered what his brother had been working on.
Tasker removed the compass from one of his many pockets, glanced at it, then returned it to the pocket with a concerned look on his face. “Why did you go? Are you unaware how dangerous that was?”
“Well, I was trapped down here and you said your ships haven’t been tested yet. So I tested one.”
Tasker scowled and studied Stingray for damage. He scanned the Searunner next. “You had me worried. I was just about to come looking for you.” After some reflection, he added, “To make sure the ship was okay.”
Flynn smiled wryly. “Listen. I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now. I need to get into town. Can I have my ring
back, now? I promise I won’t die.”
Tasker snorted as though the request was preposterous. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and seemed to be considering the proposal. He fished out a crystal ring from one of many pockets in his kelp workclothes and tossed it to Flynn. “Fine. If cruising through dangerous waters didn’t kill you, the city probably won’t either.”
“Thanks,” Flynn said, catching the ring. “I’ll be back shortly. I have a lot tell you when I return.”
Flynn donned the ring and the water golems guarding the exit stepped aside. He pulled open the stone door and stepped onto the lift. The water below rumbled to life and as it thrust upward, he rubbed the crossed-tridents insignia on his ring and thought about his father. When he’d believed his father was dead, he’d accepted the man was at peace. But it was infuriating to discover his father was a slave under the control of the one who killed his mother. Theoric had to be stopped.
The waterfalls’ mist and the scent of flowers greeted Flynn. As he hurried across the seagrass lawn, he considered how to best warn the city of the impending attack. When the merfolk water sculptures thrust their watery tridents at him, he instinctively ducked under their weapons without interrupting his chain of thought. He approached the steel fence and absently waved his ring at it, opening the gate.
Marching up to Seahaven’s Town Hall and demanding an audience with the ruling council would be the most direct route. They would certainly be able to mobilize the city defenses, but Flynn feared he would not be taken seriously. The council would likely not be swayed by a mere student, but perhaps someone else from the Citadel would be able to convince them.
Flynn took The Lift down to Lowercity and approached the Waterway. A slab of ice whisked him along and he soon arrived at the Citadel. He marched up to the bridge and found the same two guards posted there that he saw on the day of Tanner’s funeral. They stood shoulder to shoulder and prevented him from getting across.
“Your name, sir,” one of the guards said in a gravelly voice.
Flynn rolled his eyes. “You know who I am. I need to speak to Master Elgin.”
“Mr. Arcturus,” the guard conceded, “the last time we let you past, you almost got yourself killed.”
“And if you don’t let me get past this time, everyone will be killed.”
The guardsmen looked at each other, their eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. One of them shrugged and turned to Flynn. “It’s not a school day so if you don’t have permission, you aren’t getting through.” The man accentuated the point by widening his stance and gripping a wooden baton at his hip.
Flynn looked down, dejectedly, and turned to leave. The men eased slightly and Flynn chose that moment to try and run past them. He pushed past the first guard but the second one grabbed him and tackled him into the liquid railings on the water bridge. Flynn and the guard were folded over the top rail, staring down at deadly water golems in the moat. The deadly constructs roiled in anticipation.
Remembering a technique his father taught him, Flynn placed a foot behind the guard’s ankle and pushed out with his hip, putting the man off balance. He pulled the guard forward and threw him over the railing, keeping a firm grip on the man’s wrist as he fell. By the time the second guard was there to help, his colleague was dangling over the moat clasping wrists with Flynn. There was a frenzy of activity below as water golems reached for the guard, but their liquid hands fell short of the man’s feet. The dangling man looked up desperately, silently pleading for Flynn to pull him back up.
The second guard removed a wooden baton from a belt loop. He slapped it into his palm threateningly.
“If you hit me, your friend dies,” Flynn said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“And if he falls in, I’m sending you in after him,” the guard replied.
The exertion of hanging onto the dangling guardsman painted Flynn’s face red. “So you have a choice. Hit me, or save your friend. Pick one.”
The baton-wielding guard clenched his jaw in frustration. Eventually, he slid the baton back into its belt loop and reached over the railings to help his colleague. As soon as the two guards clasped wrists, Flynn let go. As the guard on the bridge struggled to reel in his dangling colleague, Flynn headed for the Citadel. He was at the double-doors by the time both guards were back on the bridge.
The first two halls contained the same paintings and stuffed monsters he’d seen there every day, but the wraithsnake and its terrarium were gone. Flynn wondered if they killed the snake after it attacked him. He passed through more halls and soon arrived at Master Elgin’s office.
Flynn pounded on the weapon master’s door and Elgin opened it a moment later. After seeing who it was in his doorway, Master Elgin’s nostrils flared, his eyes closed into slits, and his hands closed into fists. “You miserable—”
“—festering pile of maggot snot or some such, I know,” Flynn said, cutting off the man and angering him even further. “You can insult me later but right now, I need your help to save the city.”
“What are you talking about?” the weapons master asked through gritted teeth.
“The Emperor Crown has been stolen. It’s in the hands of an Azuran pirate named Theoric and he aims to destroy Seahaven. He’s the reason people have been dying under strange circumstances lately.”
“The Emperor Crown? You mean, the fairy tale?”
“A fairy tale like this,” Flynn replied, removing his mother’s Seablade pin from one of the pockets in his trousers. “I found it on my mother’s body a few days ago. And this one,” he added, removing Tanner’s pin and handing it to Master Elgin. “This one was Tanner’s. So you can stand there and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, or you can help me warn the city so it can prepare itself for an aquatic army so large, it brings a tsunami in its wake.”
Chapter Thirty
The next few days were tense for the people of Seahaven. Scouts verified Flynn’s warning and the city council put every guard, soldier, and wizard on alert. The city engineers halted their projects and focused all their effort into building ships and weapons. One of the massive trees in the Grove was felled to produce enough spears for everyone in the city.
The city council issued a proclamation for every able-bodied man, woman, and child to help defend Seahaven. Scouts discovered a huge gathering of ocean creatures north of the Abyss and it was confirmed that a leviathan had been awakened. That single creature posed a serious threat to the dome over the city. Theoric was living up to his promise.
Flynn prepared for the upcoming battle by spending his spare time at the Citadel. The school opened its doors to everyone to prepare Seahaven’s citizens for war. Soldiers and instructors taught newcomers basic techniques for wielding spears and hurling javelins. Flynn practiced swordplay every day until he was too exhausted to lift his sword.
After the third hard day of fighting, Flynn went home to check on his brother. He had already told Tasker everything days earlier and the story was absorbed in the typical manner—Tasker gave Flynn a simple nod to show that the information was understood. For once, Flynn was grateful for his brother’s unemotional demeanor. Tasker took it all in—their mother’s death, their father’s enslavement, the battles with Theoric, and the existence of magical red crystal—without batting an eye.
But knowledge of the upcoming attack did prompt Tasker to action. The man’s engineering skills were put to good use and all their stored aquazite was used in the creation of more water golems. Every time Flynn checked on him, Tasker was up to his elbows in a ball of crystal-enriched water that was being shaped into a golem. If anything, Tasker worked harder than Flynn did in preparing for the upcoming assault.
On the fourth day, Flynn entered the laboratory and found a small army of water golems. Two dozen constructs were lined up in three rows. They were armored with icy plates over their torsos that were emblazoned with the Arcturus crossed-tridents insignia. They stood ten-feet tall and each one wielded an oversized spear ideal for underwater comba
t. They were an impressive-looking force, indeed.
Tasker sat at a stone table covered in javelin-like weapons. Flynn recognized them as projectiles for the Searunners, except they were tipped with aquazite.
“What are you working on?” Flynn said.
Tasker bolted upright and his eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t sneak up on me when I’m working.”
“I was sneaking? You were working?”
“Anyway,” Tasker said, stifling a yawn. “I’ll show you what they are.”
Tasker picked up one of the projectiles and tossed it in Flynn’s direction. Flynn cringed but it sailed over his shoulder and struck one of the water golems behind him. It hit the construct in the chest and its crystal tip shattered. Ice formed and in the blink of an eye, the golem’s entire torso was frozen solid. Moments later, the construct was a solid chunk of ice with a javelin-like missile sticking out of its shoulder.
“Wow,” Flynn said, rapping his knuckles on the frozen golem. “Will it thaw?”
“In a few hours,” Tasker replied. He went back to the table and resumed his work. “But that should be more than enough time to kill most things if it goes in deep enough. It needs to be a direct hit; if it glances off your target, it will only form a little ice on the surface.”
Flynn wrapped his hands around the javelin and it was very cold. He pried it out of the icy construct. It was undamaged, save for broken crystal shards on the tip.
“Now go,” Tasker said, waving his hand dismissively. “I have work to do.”
After placing the javelin back on the worktable, Flynn took his brother’s advice and trudged back to his room. As soon as he entered his bedchamber, he stripped off his clothes, donned some seaweed bedclothes, and collapsed onto his waterbed. He fell asleep before the bed was done rippling.
Flynn didn’t move a muscle until he was woken up by Tasker the following morning.
“Wake up, Flynn,” Tasker said. “We’re under attack.”