Sea of Secrets Anthology

by J E Feldman

  “The fanciful dreams of a child,” one man said before realizing that child was a princess and present at their meeting.

  Mariana arched an eyebrow and raised her chin, putting on her best royal airs. The advisor backtracked hastily.

  “No offense meant, Your Highness.”

  “None taken,” she replied, her tone as cold as the deep ocean bed.

  “Surely you can see where we’re coming from,” he persevered, looking to the priest before transferring his gaze back to her. “You are a child still, Princess, and you had a dream…”

  “Two dreams,” Mariana interrupted. “And both felt real, as real as I’m standing here speaking with you. In the first dream, I was the Leviathan. I wasn’t merely swimming along with it, watching the scene unfold. I felt the power it possessed, I possessed. My thoughts were its thoughts. My emotions, its emotions. I could smell the ink coming from the grey creatures that held the Land Walkers. It is weak from its long hibernation, but when it has dealt with the Land Walkers and filled its belly, it will come back and extinguish us in turn. We cannot control it as we had hoped.”

  The council members remained doubtful of the truth she spoke. Their silence revealed that much. Frustration welled up in Mariana. How to make them believe her? What could she say or do? She looked to her older brother. Dom fidgeted uncomfortably and refused to meet her eyes. Even he didn’t believe her.

  They’re right. I’m just a child, but the priest will know. He has so much experience making people listen.

  Helplessly, she turned to him, but he looked as frustrated as she felt.

  Suddenly, a knock sounded on the library door. It was opened and a messenger rushed in, bowing once to the assembled company before handing a waterproof missive to one of the council members who, in turn, handed it to the prince to peruse. Dom did, his complexion visibly paling as his eyes scanned the page. When he was done, he looked up, his mouth hanging open ever-so-slightly as he met his sister’s eyes.

  “Tell me again what you saw in your dream when you were the Leviathan?” he asked.

  Mariana frowned, curious what was written in the letter, and worried it was bad news. Wetting her lips, she gave a short recap of the beings the beast had ripped apart.

  “Though it recognized the Land Walkers by their scent as they drowned, it didn’t know what the grey…things…were. The scent was wholly foreign. Its blood did not smell as blood should…more like the ink from an octopus. But even then, they were not octopi. Their blood was not ink. I do not believe they were living creatures. Perhaps they were something the Land Walkers made.” Mariana shook her head. “I can only speculate.”

  Dom passed the parchment to the council member closest to him. Taking it, the man slowly read it aloud to the small company.

  “Our efforts have met with success. The Leviathan has demolished our enemy forces.”

  There was a rush of glad murmurings from all the council members, except the one reading the missive. He was frowning as he continued, his words coming slower the farther along he went.

  “The enemy traveled in enclosed ships of some sort. The grey walls were stronger than the wood of their past seafaring vessels. We could not penetrate them.”

  A hush descended on the room. He paused as he glanced up at Mariana before continuing on.

  “However, when the Leviathan came, it sliced through their hulls as if they were made of moss. We watched as the Land Walkers floated out from their broken vessels, some thrashing for their lives as they sank and drowned.

  “The battle in our waters has been won. The Leviathan has moved onward to attack our barbarous cousins on dry land. We exult in our victory. Let the joyous news be spread throughout the kingdom.

  “Glory be to our protector. The Leviathan.”

  Silence filled the library as they stared at Mariana. Some part of her was relieved that there was proof now of her dreams being real. Most of what she felt, though, was shock. So much death. A snippet of the dream played out in her mind. She could see the Land Walkers as they drowned. Their limbs thrashing ineptly through the water, running out of air, their movements slowing until they became limp and sank out of sight into the depths.

  Glory be to our protector. The Leviathan.

  She shuddered, thinking of those words.

  Dom was the first to break the thick silence. “Mariana,” he murmured, his voice rough and forced, as if it took an effort to speak. “What was your second dream?”

  She stared at him blankly, momentarily unable to grasp her thoughts. She shook her head to clear it and swallowed before speaking.

  “Um…I saw…” Frowning, she blinked her eyes furiously, trying to bring herself back to the present. “I saw myself and a small group of others. Men and women, young and old. We stood in a circle, our hands clasped. We were concentrating on…something. I don’t know what. But whatever it was, it would stop the Leviathan.”

  “Was there nothing more?” a council member asked, his voice tight as he held in his emotions.

  Mariana wordlessly shook her head, disappointed and guilty that she could not help more.

  Dom thought for a long moment before jotting down a quick note. He held it out to the closest council member and said, “Give this to the head of our scholars. They’re the ones who discovered the existence of the Leviathan. Have them search for more information on it. I want every single one of them perusing the ancient texts—master and novice alike. We need all of the information there is on this creature, and we need it as soon as possible.”

  Dom turned to the priest then. “High Priest, you believe Mariana’s dreams came from the gods?”

  The old man nodded solemnly. “I would swear to it.”

  The prince returned the nod, saying, “Would you please hunt through the recorded knowledge the temple has? Perhaps there is a mention of this in the past at some point.” Dom noticed the doubtful look on the priest’s face and spoke a little firmer. “Please, High Priest! I fear we do not have much time. It may be the smallest hint that is hidden away where we do not think to search. We cannot afford to overlook even the most insignificant detail.”

  The priest sighed and nodded. “The temple will assist in any way we can. Even the lowest acolyte will exhaust his waking hours in the pursuit of this knowledge.”

  “Thank you, High Priest,” Dom replied, then he turned to Mariana. “Sister, go. Help him.”

  Assigned their jobs, they departed the library, the council member hurrying to the scholars in their own temple of hidden knowledge, while Mariana and the priest made their way back to the sanctuary of the gods. When they arrived outside the doors, the priest stopped her.

  “Your Highness,” he said, facing her. “I believe you would be best suited to staying here, in prayer.” Mariana made to protest, but he interrupted her with a shake of his head. “No, the gods have spoken to you. No one else. Pray to them now. Open your mind and let their message seep into your soul. I have little hope of finding anything that will help us in our current crisis, though I will, of course, expend my energy searching. I hold more faith in the gods’ ability to communicate with you. For whatever reason, they have chosen you. If we find a way to control the Leviathan, we will find it through you.”

  Mariana nodded silently. She passed through the doors of the sanctuary, her heart filled with worry and fear. What if the gods told her nothing? What if the scholars and the temple could find naught to help them against the Leviathan? With these anxieties twisting her mind and belly into knots, she knelt in front of the familiar effigy, turned her face up, and closed her eyes to pray.

  She was once more standing in the temple with a small circle of people, their hands linked, their faces cast up as if in prayer. Mariana joined them as they closed their eyes. She concentrated on creating a dream.

  It had to be a glorious dream, more tempting and seductive than anything she had envisaged before. But no matter how hard she focused, her will was not enough. She needed the others. They needed each ot
her. As a whole, they would concentrate on this most wondrous of dreams, and with their minds combined, they would send the creature back to the depths of its hibernation.

  It would sleep, and they would be safe once more.

  Mariana felt a shift and opened her eyes. She was alone. The cold stone effigy was in front of her, a single roll of parchment resting on the floor at its base. Stooping down, she picked it up and unfurled it.

  It was written in a language she couldn’t understand, but her instincts told her what it was.

  A spell to contain the Leviathan.

  Mariana woke with a start, lying on the cold stone in front of the effigy. She sat up quickly, excited anticipation spiking through her as she looked up in wonder at the statue depicting their gods.

  They spoke to me. To me!

  She sent up a thrilled but silent prayer of thanks before a detail of her dream caught her attention. Mariana looked at the base of the statue. Confusion dampened her excitement when she saw nothing except stone floor. In her dream, there had been a scroll. Where was it now? Did the dream mean the High Priest would find it among the temple’s stores of holy wisdom? Or…

  Mariana reached out a tentative hand and brushed the floor with her fingertips. A thrum pulsated under her skin. Covering her mouth as she gasped, she jumped to her feet and ran from the room to fetch the High Priest.

  Her excitement as she relayed her newest dream to him almost made her unintelligible, but he listened intently, asking questions when he couldn’t follow her. His own enthusiasm mirrored hers as she told him about the scroll. When she was done, she went on to describe what she felt when she touched the floor in front of the statue of the gods.

  “It’s there,” she said. “I know it is. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I felt it. The scroll we need is hidden at the base of the statue.”

  The priest gripped her arms, beaming with pride and pleasure.

  “You have done well, Your Highness. Exceptionally well.” He gestured to a nearby acolyte. “You there, fetch a stone cutter. Tell him it is a matter of pressing urgency. We must have those stones up!”

  There was a whirl of activity over the next hour as the stones were lifted and the scroll uncovered. People were hard-pressed to keep their tongues silent while in the sanctuary. The sharp raps of the stonecutters at work jarred their ears, and more than one person looked around warily, waiting to be struck down for blasphemy.

  Back in the library, no one spoke as the High Priest deciphered the writing.

  “It is a spell,” he finally confirmed. “One that will subdue the beast and ensure our safety from it.”

  There was a rush of air as everyone breathed again. Some of them went as far as to chuckle and clap each other on the back or shake each other’s hand. Mariana settled for a sigh of relief.

  The priest held up a hand for silence. He waited a moment longer until all was quiet again.

  “When successfully completed, this spell will endow someone with a special gift—a power that will control the Leviathan.”

  “We will be able to use the Leviathan to defend us again should the need arise!” one of the council members said exuberantly. “The Land Walkers will avoid our seas after this, knowing we have such a powerful defense.”

  The priest shook his head. “Mariana, tell him how it will control the Leviathan.”

  Mariana’s gaze swept the entire group as she spoke. “The power is to entice the beast to sleep. To send him back into that deep hibernation from whence we woke him.”

  The man who would use the beast as a weapon made a disgruntled noise in his throat as he frowned.

  “You would prefer to let the Leviathan roam free? Independent and hungry for Sea Dwellers?” Dom asked.

  He stared at the council member, eyebrows raised, until the man retreated by lowering his gaze to the table and giving a single shake of his head. Dom waited a second longer before transferring his attention back to the priest and nodding for the man to continue.

  Instead, the holy man looked to Mariana again.

  “How many were there in your dream?” he asked.

  Surprised, Mariana frowned in thought as she tried to remember how many had been in the dream circle.

  “Eight,” she said slowly. Then, with more confidence, “There were eight, not including myself.”

  “Nine total?” the priest concluded.

  “The number of high families in the kingdom,” Dom said.

  “With Mariana at its head,” the priest added.

  Everyone started in surprise, Mariana included. Denials and arguments about her being “just a child” and “part of the royal family” were brought up by nearly everyone.

  “If we are to ask our people to make a sacrifice,” the high priest spoke above the commotion, “shouldn’t the royal family be prepared to do the same?” The room quieted down. “This is no true sacrifice, for none will die or suffer. Mariana, you saw yourself in that circle. You knew what you had to do.”

  She nodded, eyes cast down to the table as she realized the truth of the priest’s words.

  “The gods chose you. You must be brave. As a member of the royal family, you must lead this group.”

  “We will ask each family for a volunteer,” Dom pronounced. “Young and old, male and female. Yes, Mariana?”

  She nodded again.

  “We will rely on the gods to choose a willing participant. I will draft up a communication to each house, explaining the situation and what we ask of them. One from each family. No more, no less.”

  “Pray we get no fewer,” the priest murmured. “If there were nine in Mariana’s dream, then it is nine we need to succeed.”

  Mariana looked at the assembled company of eight before her. It had taken the families a day to provide a member to their circle. Not all had been compliant. One young man, who was around Mariana’s age and had been the eldest of his siblings, had stolen away during the night to seek the temple’s protection. He sat with them now. His parents had been irate when they visited earlier that morning, demanding the temple return their son. But, as he had volunteered of his own free will, and there were none others the family was willing to provide in his place, he remained, and they had left.

  They had been assured he would not be required to die in this service, nor would he suffer. But he was forever separated from his family. They had to look to the next in line of their children to carry on their name. The parents were not pleased with this turn of events.

  Mariana could not blame them for wanting the heir to their house back. Had the gods chosen Dom instead of her, she was sure an uproar would have been made. As it was, her mother was less than complacent with her only daughter’s fate. Mariana had tried to console her by telling her they would be saving their kingdom. And it wasn’t as if she would be leaving. She would still be able to see her mother.

  Other families complained as well. The same arguments were used. The circle wouldn’t die. They wouldn’t suffer.

  They were only going to be parted from their families.

  This had been agreed upon late the night before. The participants needed to focus. They couldn’t be distracted by life’s other concerns. Some volunteers had already moved past them. There was an old man who had deliberately stepped down from his post as leader of his household. He had had his time and wanted to make way for his son. An old woman was a widow. Her husband gone, her children grown. She had been relegated to merely being an extra body in her daughter-in-law’s home. Best she not add to the mouths to feed when she could do good elsewhere.

  The other five were of various age—two young men who were second-borne, one woman who was quickly moving past her prime but had yet to marry, and two children. A boy and a girl. The boy must have been about ten turns old, while the girl was the youngest at five. Her serious demeanor when she explained to Mariana that the gods had told her to come was at odds with such a young, innocent face.

  She must be strong inside, Mariana thought. Why else would
the gods choose someone so young?

  Her mother had not been happy either. She had wept for her daughter, her baby. But the father had been firm. He believed in what they were doing and, if his little girl was brave enough to be a part of it, then he would forever be proud.

  Their circle was complete. Nine bodies in total. All that was needed now was the spell. They gathered in the temple where Mariana’s dream had taken place. Not the palace temple where she prayed. This was a temple within the city. It was a large, smooth structure that rose like a tall spire pointing toward the surface of the water. Its pearlescent surface glimmered in the bit of sunlight that penetrated their deep waters.

  Mariana waited. The others waited. The High Priest had positioned them in a circle, standing with their hands linked as they had in Mariana’s dream. He fussed over details that probably didn’t need fussing over. But if something went wrong, they were lost. Everything had to be perfect.

  The High Priest’s voice broke the silence as he began to chant, one arm held up and toward their circle. The words were foreign to her ears, but her soul embraced the import. When she tried to concentrate on it, the meaning fled her. So she cleared her mind, closed her eyes, and raised her face up, as if in prayer.

  Light grew behind her eyelids. She felt a breeze kick up around them. It grew stronger, until it was a gale that tossed their wet hair and robes about. The howling that it made caused the priest to raise his voice to be heard over its roar.

  Though Mariana kept her eyes closed, she became vaguely aware that she was able to see the others in the circle. They stood like her, eyes closed and faces raised. Long hair whipped about, their robes billowing out around them. The longer the priest chanted, the more she could feel the others. Not just the physical hands she held of the two next to her, but the emotions and thoughts of all in the circle. She was connected to these people.

  They were her new brothers and sisters.

  Gradually, the clamor died down, and they opened their eyes. Looks of wonder and marvel were reflected on everyone’s faces. Mariana knew she wasn’t the only one who now felt connected to the others. They all felt it.