by Jan Bozarth
“What else lives in here?” I asked.
“Just the microbes and algae the urchins eat,” Kano said.
“Do any of them light up?” I swiveled to scan the area. All I saw were sea urchins.
When the light flickered again, Kano yelled, “That’s it!”
“What?” I asked. Then I realized what he meant. “Is it a mirror shard?”
“Nothing here shines like that,” Kano said. “It must be a shard.”
“Nice!” The light disappeared, but I focused on the spot and spoke the magic words: “Takara’s truth!”
Nothing happened.
I’d expected the hand mirror to pop into view with a flash of golden light. Now I felt silly.
“What’s wrong?” I sounded a little bit whiny, but I was too upset to care. “I said the words. Why didn’t it work?”
Kano deflated slightly, as though he didn’t have an answer, either. “Maybe you just have to be closer to the shard than you are now.”
“Maybe.” I exhaled with frustration. As soon as my body began to deflate, the sea urchins closed in. I quickly inhaled more water. “Or maybe it isn’t a shard.”
“You’ll have to go look to be sure,” Kano said. “The rest of your quest will be worthless if you leave the first shard behind.”
He was right about that. I had to go.
I drew in more water to make sure I was as big and round as possible. The sea urchins wanted to avoid puffer fish as much as I wanted to avoid them, but there’s a joker in every crowd. I didn’t want to meet a sea urchin that thought it was tough or wanted a puffer for a big sister. As Okasan had told me over and over again, anything is possible in Aventurine.
As I inched my way toward the flicker of light, the creatures parted to let me pass. None of them wanted a fight, and I quickly came within a few inches of the glinting light.
I had found the first piece of the mirror!
The shard reflected my puffer face. The shard was triangular and wedged between three purple sea urchins with crisscrossing, interlocked spines. The sea urchins looked hopelessly tangled.
And they didn’t budge when I got close enough to almost touch them.
For one brief, insane second, I thought about trying to grow a pair of hands. Or claws! I even considered giving myself scales as protection against the sea urchins’ spines. Then I imagined the mess I might become if I didn’t do it right. My second transformation had gone smoother than the first, but Kano had given me a pattern to copy. If things went wrong, I could be paralyzed or stung to death before he reached me.
I was stuck being a puffer fish.
One of the dreaded enemies of sea urchins, I reminded myself. I gritted the little bit of teeth I had and stuck one of the purple pincushions with my spines.
The urchin couldn’t get away fast enough! It pulled its spines free and rolled back. The threat of being touched pushed the other two clear, and the shard slowly fell into a bed of soft algae growing on the rock.
I hovered over the shard. It was mine!
“Takara’s truth!” I shouted.
The hand mirror appeared in a brilliant burst of light and hung in the water before me. The shard shot off the rock and snapped into place in the frame. I stared, astonished, as the tarnish and grime vanished from the engraved brass around the restored glass. A long minute passed before I remembered that I had to send the mirror away again.
“Takara’s truth.” I puffed happily as the Yugen Lineage talisman disappeared. “Awesome,” I whispered.
I swam back to Kano with renewed confidence.
“You did it!” Kano sounded as happy as I felt.
His happiness made me feel even better. I swished my fins and tail so fast that I swirled around in excitement. Then I realized he might not be happy for me. He might just be glad he was one shard closer to getting rid of me. I played it cool.
“It wasn’t that hard.” I didn’t know why I had expected the task to be difficult. Everything from algebra to trimming bonsai came easily to me. “As soon as I can shape-shift into whatever I want whenever I want, this mission will be a snap.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Kano said. “We just started.”
“You worry too much.” Taking the lead, I swam toward the exit of the cave. Behind me, I thought I heard Kano sigh.
6
A Tantalizing Trap
I liked the way the sea urchins parted before me as I swam toward the exit of the cave. They moved aside as if they were making way for a movie star. Funny how being a fat fish with a spiky skin condition could make me feel like a gorgeous celeb. I laughed.
Kano must have noticed the bubbles of laughter coming out of my mouth. “So you are enjoying yourself.”
He sounded so smug, I bristled.
“No, I’m not! I can’t wait to change out of this ugly form. I can’t wait until I can change forms like I change clothes back home.”
“Do you change clothes often?” Kano asked.
“Two or three times a day,” I said.
“For survival,” Kano stated matter-of-factly.
“For style,” I said. “No matter what I’m doing or where I’m going, I always dress with style.”
Kano paused, puzzled. “What’s style?”
“Style means …” I paused to think. Style wasn’t easy to define. “It means doing something or creating something that stands out because it’s unique or beautiful or the latest look.”
“That doesn’t sound very practical,” Kano said.
It wasn’t hard to figure out why Kano didn’t understand. He changed into the best form for every situation, but he had no sense of artistry.
“Well, I don’t completely ignore the weather. The seasons help determine the best styles, too. Like, I’ll wear light sundresses in summer and knit sweaters in winter so I don’t get too hot or too cold,” I said. “I’ll wear the latest fashions from Paris or New York or my own designs, but I always look great.”
“Doesn’t that depend on who’s looking?” Kano asked.
“People always notice me,” I said.
“It’s not always good to be noticed,” Kano said.
“It is if you want to be a fashion designer,” I said as we reached the hole in the cave wall.
Kano hesitated before going in. The tunnel was only about twenty feet long. If we could swim faster, we’d reach the other end in a few seconds.
With the sea urchins behind us and a clear path ahead, there was no reason to delay. “Let’s change into a faster fish now.”
“Not yet,” Kano said. “I don’t know what’s in the passage or what we’ll find on the other side.”
“You don’t?” I was shocked. “Then how can you find Bristolmeir?”
“I drank a potion that acts like a compass. Queen Patchouli gave it to me,” Kano explained. “I know what direction to take. I just don’t know what we’ll encounter along the way.”
“You knew about the sea urchins,” I said.
“Because Queen Patchouli told me,” Kano said. “She knew we had to leave the first cave through a rock tunnel that would take us to the underwater cave. And she knew that sea urchins blocked the only exit.”
“Then why didn’t Queen Patchouli tell you what comes next?” I asked.
“She can’t tell what she doesn’t know,” Kano said evenly. “Nothing is set from this point on. We might run into a surge current or a trench troll, or we might not. There’s no way to know. We’re going to have to be cautious and stick together.”
“You’re awfully calm about it.” I was not calm. The idea of traveling through the weird underwater fairy world without any idea what to expect was not my idea of fun.
“I can transform to counter any danger in an instant,” Kano said.
“But I can’t.” This time I was matter-of-fact. “My second shift was better than my first, but I was still too slow.”
Kano waddle-swam in place without speaking. Suddenly his tiny fins became large fins.
&n
bsp; My magically enhanced body grew bigger fins, too.
Next, Kano grew a long spine out of his forehead. The spine looked like what anglerfish use to lure smaller fish close enough to eat.
I automatically grew a long spine, and it happened a little faster. Kano was a good teacher. The best way to learn how to do something was to do it over and over again.
Then Kano added a luminescent yellow bulb on the end of the spine. “Make yours red,” he said.
The bulb appeared without much difficulty, but I had to visualize red to change the color. It took me a few more seconds of heavy concentration.
“Is it red?” I asked.
“Yes,” Kano said. “Now make it green.”
For the next five minutes, Kano put me through my shape-shifter paces. We changed shapes, colors, and textures until I could copy Kano in an instant. However, Kano insisted that we should be puffer fish with angler lanterns while we traveled through the tunnel.
“You should follow me,” Kano said as he slowly advanced. “In case I have to shift without warning.”
I didn’t argue.
The yellow bulbs dangling from our forehead spines cast a semicircle of light a foot or two ahead. I couldn’t see the tunnel walls, but nothing moved in the water that filled the wide passageway. We reached the end without incident and swam out above another ledge.
Once again, Kano paused.
We were surrounded by a vast coral reef in hues ranging from pale yellow to bright orange and crimson red. I was happy to see that a puffer fish couldn’t possibly fit through the narrow channels of the twisting labyrinth.
“It’s so beautiful!” I exclaimed.
“It’s dangerous.” Kano spoke in a hushed voice, as though he didn’t want anyone but me to hear.
Was he trying to scare me? Boys do that when they like a girl, but I didn’t think that was Kano’s reason. I was pretty sure he wanted to see what I would do. I tried not to freak out.
“In the waking world, some coral have stinging tentacles,” I said. “Is that what you mean?”
Kano blinked with surprise. “Yes, except here the coral is also home to worms that bite.”
It looked like the tunnel exit was deep within a network of old coral, far from the vicious worms. Still, I wanted to be sure. “What do the worms look like?”
Kano instantly transformed into a creature that looked like a giant white maggot. His mouth had three sections. When the sections peeled back, a stalk with tiny snapping teeth popped out.
“No!” I squealed when I started to turn into the gross-looking worm.
Kano quickly turned into a small, slim blue fish with silvery striped scales and fins.
My body hesitated halfway through the worm transition and then copied the silvery blue fish.
“That’s better!” I exclaimed. “This fish is very elegant, Kano. Thanks.”
“I did not choose this form to please you, Sumi. The sliver fish is perfectly adapted to navigate through the coral.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Although my adventure had taken a turn for the better, I was still anxious to find the other shards so I could get back to my real life. “Let’s go!”
“Wait!” Kano yelled. The warning held me back. “Coral has sharp edges. Even a sliver fish can get sliced open if it gets too close.”
I waited.
Kano swayed in the water, looking to the right and left, up and down. I realized he was getting directions from the compass potion he had swallowed. Finally, he said, “We must go down to reach Bristolmeir.”
That made sense. Queen Kumari had told me that Bristolmeir was at the bottom of the sea. I followed Kano into the coral maze, relieved to be moving forward again.
At first, I had to concentrate on steering through the lacy coral. But then I got used to my new speed and agility and started to take in the sights.
I was amazed at how much life thrived in the coral. Wispy blue grasses and green seaweeds with twining leaves swayed in the gentle currents. Pink and white urchins stuck to the coral like buttons, and schools of little red and yellow ribbonfish wove in and out of the columns. Sparkling sapphire and ruby-red starfish nestled in clumps of sea anemones, and translucent jellyfish clung to the underside of high coral arches. The jellyfishes’ multicolored tentacles dangled like beaded curtains.
I began to imagine a whole line of clothes inspired by the life in the reef around me: the Sumi Hara Neptune Collection. When I first saw Queen Kumari, I had taken a mental picture of her silver gown. A shorter version with beaded detailing at the neck and long, wide-at-the-wrist sleeves would look fabulous with my long black hair. It was the first design I would try on when I perfected my shape-shifting ability.
“Watch out!” Kano shouted. “Those clams don’t eat sliver fish, but if they catch a fin, it will hurt.”
Off to the side, I saw dozens of blue clams. Their shells, which snapped open and closed to trap tiny green shrimp, sounded like music. To be safe, I tucked my fins in as we passed by.
As soon as we left the clams behind, Kano warned me of another hazard. “There’s a colony of bell shells just ahead.”
I heard a faint clinking sound, like water wind chimes. “Are they a problem?”
“They make the bell sound as they fall,” Kano explained. “And they hit hard when they reach bottom.”
“Where is the bottom?” I looked down. The mass of intertwining coral was just as thick underneath us as it was above.
“Bottom is anything that breaks the fall.” Kano whipped his tail aside to avoid being struck. “You don’t want that to be you.”
A shell almost scraped my side as it dropped and shattered on the coral below. Another fell in front of me, then another off to the side.
My sliver fish instincts were sharper than my human ability to react. I ducked and darted through the rain of shells without being hit and somehow managed to avoid the knifelike edges of the coral, too. The danger lasted only a minute, but it was a long, scary minute.
“I never want to do that again!” I exclaimed.
“Me neither!” Kano agreed. “If we run into another colony, let’s try to swim around.”
“Why didn’t we swim around this one?” I asked.
“And miss all that excitement?” Kano teased.
“Yeah, excitement,” I said sarcastically, and shot him a playful look to show I wasn’t really mad.
Suddenly I wanted to take a detour. There was an irresistible smell that I just had to follow. I couldn’t explain it, and I couldn’t ignore it. I turned left into another channel. It was risky to go off alone, but my sliver fish instincts overrode everything else.
Golden eels with feathery blue tails swam leisurely in and out of stubby plants. They ignored me as I swam toward the source of the smell: a pile of eel eggs. I was starving! The feeling was so intense, I forgot to be cautious. When I darted into the secluded alcove to snatch the eggs, an eel turned on me with its razor-sharp teeth. I felt the teeth pierce my side, and in shock and pain, I struggled to get away from the eels and the sharp coral that seemed to be closing in around me.
“Sumi!” I heard Kano’s voice in the distance. “Where are you?”
“Here …!” I cried out in a raspy whisper, my voice fading along with my strength. I pushed myself to swim away from the eels’ den, but then, too weak to swim any farther, I began to drift.
“Oh no!” Kano appeared next to me. I hadn’t noticed him swim up. He gently nudged me away from the coral.
I expected him to yell, and I wouldn’t have blamed him for being mad. Queen Patchouli had chosen him to guide and protect me. If I died in the reef, he’d be in trouble. But it would be my fault for leaving without telling him.
“An eel got me,” I said. “I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t talk,” Kano said softly. “Save your strength.” He formed a suction cup on his belly and anchored himself. Then he elongated his fins and held me while he examined the wound. I could feel my body try to shift to
match his form, but it wasn’t possible. I was in too much shock.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I asked.
“It’s not good, but it could be a lot worse,” Kano said. “You’re tougher than some old eel, right?”
“Right,” I said. Despite Kano’s calm assurance, he sounded worried. Because my safety is his responsibility, I wondered, or is he starting to like me? Either way, I wanted to apologize for messing up. “I shouldn’t have left—”
“So don’t do it again,” Kano said.
“But if I don’t make it …” I gasped when a stinging pain shot through me.
“Don’t talk like that. There’s a cure,” Kano said. “Mushwort grows all over the seas of Aventurine,” he continued. “It heals gashes like this. We’ll find some when we get out of the reef.”
“I can’t swim,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to. Just relax and enjoy the ride,” Kano said in a forced light tone. He transformed his tail into a curved sled and then carefully scooped me onto it.
I dozed as Kano swam through the treacherous reef and woke when the clear water dimmed into a gloomy gray. The coral was newer, darker in color, and more densely packed. Here and there I saw the tip of a white worm emerge to snag pieces of seaweed or ocean bugs. I was too sick to be disgusted, but I tensed when Kano entered a narrow passageway. There were no outlets, and we barely fit, but he was prepared. He became thinner and wrapped his tail tighter around me until he swam clear.
“How long?” I asked as Kano’s tail loosened.
“I smell mushwort not far ahead,” Kano said, “but it might be difficult to reach.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We’re not alone,” Kano said.
I peeked out and then immediately cringed back into the protective curl of Kano’s tail.
A horrible creature stood between us and open water. With a bumpy sea horse head, spiraling horns, four snapping lobster claws, and a hooked scorpion tail, it looked like the awabi I had imagined when I was younger. My father, not being of the Yugen Lineage or knowing the legends of Aventurine, would sometimes tell me Japanese myths. The awabi, sea monsters that eat drowned fishermen and guard giant shells full of treasure, were one of his favorite characters.