MONSTER SHARK
~ A Blue Kingdoms story featuring Umira the Accursed ~
Stephen D. Sullivan
• Walkabout Publishing •
Smashwords edition.
© 2010 Stephen D. Sullivan
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Special thanks to my first readers including Paul McComas, Jean Rabe, and—as always—Kifflie Scott.
Cover art & design © 2010 Stephen D. Sullivan.
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CONTENTS
MONSTER SHARK
I. Treasure
II. The Beast Below
Samples of Other Stories
Crimson & Dragons
Sisters in Arms
Festival at Wolfnacht
About the Story
About the Author
Original Cover
MONSTER SHARK
~ An Umira the Accursed Story ~
Stephen D. Sullivan
I. Treasure
Sharks circled Umira, above, below, and on every side. Their cold black eyes gazed at the triton starwatcher, scrutinizing her scaly blue skin, her long green hair, and her glittering jewelry. Umira gazed back, her own black eyes trying to peer into their alien minds.
Are we so different?
Eyes, teeth, skin . . . all so similar. Both, feared and hated—outcast from civilized societies.
We are alike.
Despite their similarities, a chill of doubt ran through Umira. As a triton, she’d been around sharks most of her life, but she’d never faced so many at once, never a school this large or with so many different species: redfins, daggertooths, blues, hammerheads, and more. Mariners had named this place the Shark Keys with good reason.
Had it been a mistake for Umira to come here? Would this decision be her last? Even with all her strength and skill, a school this size could tear the triton apart in moments. Would that be so terrible, though? At least then there would be an end. At least then she would know: there was no place in the Blue Kingdoms, either above or below the waves, for Umira the Accursed.
Umira steeled herself, strangling the dark thoughts until they vanished into the depths of her soul once more.
I will not die this day. Not unless I am stupid. Not unless I show fear.
She kept her swimming movements regular and her heartbeat calm. She did not reach for the serrated longknives strapped to her hips. Instead, she forced every aspect of her body to send a single, potent message:
I am not prey.
Though Umira was neither mage nor telepath, the sharks seemed to believe her. They remained curious but respectful, keeping their distance from the starwatcher. Even the school’s sole ravager—a species of shark known to eat both human and triton—spared Umira merely a passing glance.
Is this what it feels to be accepted?
Umira focused her sea-born senses on the school, heard the water passing across their gills, felt their sinuous movements as waves of pressure against her scaly skin. She moved in harmony with them, but she still could not tell: Was this acceptance or merely indifference?
She reached out and caressed the side of a passing redfin with her webbed fingers. The fish arched pleasurably under her touch. Its skin felt smoother than her own. Then the shark darted away into the azure distance of the middle depths.
I am like them. More than I am like people.
For a moment, Umira almost felt at home.
WHOOMPH!
Smothered thunder shook the deep. The entire water column quaked, and the sharks swirled in agitation. Some buffeted Umira, their skin scraping like sandpaper now. Umira gasped involuntarily. The school wasn’t attacking, though; they were confused, frightened. Umira felt the confusion, as well.
The pressure, the sound, the sudden rush of cold from deeper waters, all dazzled the triton’s senses. Every instinct told her to flee, to swim away, fast, as her fishy brethren were already doing. Only Umira’s intellect overcame her panic. Once more, she strangled the fear inside, pushing it back into the deep recesses of her mind.
In an instant, the rest of the school had vanished into the deep, leaving Umira alone.
What just happened?
A shadow eclipsed the bright disc of the ocean’s surface, many fathoms above. She looked up and saw the silhouette of a large ship cutting through the waves.
People? People did this? How?
As the waters calmed around her, Umira felt a slight tingling just below the surface of her scales.
Magic.
But from where? The ship felt alien, an intruder in her world. She felt the magic emanating from it, but there was something else, too . . . She peered down into the indigo depths, and noticed a faint glow that hadn’t been there before—not a reflection from the surface above, but something different, something that made her feel as though crabs were crawling across her skin: powerful, ancient magic.
She looked from the ship to the strange glow and then back.
The humans’ magic is causing this somehow. They are harming the ocean! They must stop!
Umira swam toward the surface, her sleek body cutting through the water with sinuous powerful strokes. As she drew near the ship, something splashed into the water to her left: a glowing, greenish orb that sent tingling electricity across her skin. The light sank quickly, leaving a trail of hissing bubbles in its wake.
It dropped into the blue and then exploded.
A senses-numbing shockwave buffeted Umira, thrusting her toward the surface. The bottom of the boat’s hull loomed above, unyielding, covered with sharp barnacles. Umira kicked frantically and wheeled, managing to turn her back toward the hazard, just before she crashed into it. The impact crushed the breath out of her brine-filled lungs, expelling a great whoosh of water through the gill slits in her neck. Rough barnacles scraped along her spine, scouring and painful, but too brittle to penetrate her scales.
Anger welled up inside Umira, and she felt her face and blue skin flush.
What are they doing?!
She kicked away from the hull’s underside, circling to the front of the vessel. The flash of green magic had come from the stern, so the bow seemed the logical place to board the ship and, if its crew proved hostile—as it seemed they might—take them by surprise.
The boat was a fishing trawler; a “dogger” Umira had heard similar ships called. It measured fifteen yards from stem to stern and five yards across the beam. Anchor lines at bow and stern stretched down into the deep, keeping it tethered in place.
Umira swam along the forward line and broke surface near the bow. As she emerged, her starwatcher tattoo—the circle of seven-pointed stars on her right shoulder—tingled, its magic making the air breathable for the triton. Almost silently, she let the water remaining in her lungs dribble out of her mouth and gills. It wou
ldn’t do to be spitting brine while trying to sneak up on an enemy.
The ship’s gunwale bobbed less than two yards overhead, a distance Umira could have easily leapt with a swimming start. But the sound of the crew’s voices from the stern made her cautious. A large splash would surely attract the invaders’ attention.
So instead, Umira took hold of the anchor line and, quickly and quietly, pulled herself over the side and onto the weathered planks of the deck. The length of the dogger, including its two masts, separated her from the people at the stern. She counted seven of them, milling about the rear platform.
One man, older, more imperious, and slightly better clothed than the rest, was clearly the captain. Four others, three men and one woman, all suntanned and lightly dressed for the warm weather, looked to be regular mariners. One of the men carried a fishing bow. He watched the water intently as the others concentrated on the actions of the remaining two people.
Umira judged this final pair to be mages; neither their movements nor their ornate clothing were suited for working at sea. Both were young women, and both clucked excitedly as one of them—a tall, slender creature with dusky skin—raised her hands and summoned a globe of glowing green energy.
“Are you ready this time, Nissa?” the captain asked.
The second mage, a thin teenager with close-cropped black hair, nodded. “I was ready last time,” she huffed. “But I can’t grab any metal if it’s stuck in the bottom. Arzu has to stir it up first.”
“Like I told you, Captain,” Arzu said, holding the glowing magic aloft, “there are no guarantees. Nissa and I will do the best we can, but. . . .”
The captain shook his head and grumbled. “I should have hired your master.”
“You can’t afford our master,” Nissa shot back.
“Which is why you hired us,” Arzu added.
The captain scowled. “When we find this prize, your master will regret turning me down.”
“I almost wish I had,” Nissa whispered to Arzu. She didn’t intend for anyone other than her friend to hear, but Umira’s fin-like ears picked up the quip. Arzu giggled but continued to hold the glowing ball of energy overhead.
“On my command,” the captain said. “Three . . . two . . .”
“You should stop,” Umira said. She made her voice as sweet as possible, like a mermaid’s voice, but kept her tone forceful as well.
The people in the stern of the ship gasped and tripped over themselves as they wheeled to face her. Arzu nearly toppled overboard—only Nissa grabbing her fellow mage’s belt prevented it; the magic in Arzu’s hands fizzled into nothingness. The man with the fishing bow gaped in horror and loosed his arrow at Umira.
But he was a surfacer, slow and clumsy compared to the woman who swam with sharks. Umira’s twin knives cleared their sheaths before the arrow left its string. With her right blade, Umira batted the shaft aside, slicing it cleanly in two. Her left blade she held before her, at the ready, in case one of the other surfacers attacked.
“Stop,” she commanded. “I am alone. I won’t harm you.”
“Whoa! Whoa! Easy now!” the captain said, stepping between Umira and his crew. “No need to get hostile.” Sweat beaded on his tanned forehead.
The bowman quickly reloaded. “It could be lying! This creature could be some kind of decoy for pirates!” At his words, the other crewmembers scanned the water for signs of ships. Everyone, especially the mages, looked worried, but the ocean remained empty save for the crowns of distant islands dotting the eastern horizon.
“She could have killed us if she wanted to,” Nissa pointed out. “We didn’t even know she was here until she spoke.”
“Aye,” agreed a crewman with a silver earring.
The bowman sneered. “Not all of us.”
“She probably would have killed you first, Dutch,” the woman sailor, who wore a red bandana, said.
“Easy, I said!” the captain ordered. “Clam up! Especially you, Dutch. And lower your bow. Can’t you see this . . . woman comes in peace?”
Dutch, who had been about to reply, shut his mouth and lowered his weapon, though he did not remove the arrow from the string. Silver Earring and Red Bandana looked at him and chuckled. The fourth crew member, a muscular shirtless man, remained wary. Umira relaxed but kept her knives in hand.
“I’m Captain Shaw. Who are you, and what do you want aboard my ship?”
“I’m Umira. Your magicians are stirring up the sharks. They could have killed me.”
“We’re sorr—” Arzu began, but Shaw cut her off.
“We meant no harm. We didn’t know these waters were inhabited.”
“Is there a triton city below?” Nissa asked. “Are you one of the . . .” She trailed off, and Umira knew she’d been about to say “accursed.” “Are you one of them? One of their representatives, I mean?”
“I represent only myself. But what concerns the ocean concerns me. You should stop what you’re doing.”
“Is she some kind of ocean goddess?” Shirtless whispered to Dutch.
“Bloody ugly one, if she is!” Dutch whispered back. Umira heard both men clearly, but fought down the anger the words stirred inside. She kept her face impassive.
“Now, if there’s no triton city here,” Shaw said, “I don’t see that what we’re doing is any concern of yours. I’m sorry if we disturbed you or your fishy friends, but . . .”
“What are you doing?” Umira asked.
Shaw flushed and looked nervously at his crew, especially Red Bandana, who seemed about to reply. Red Bandana clammed up.
“We’re searching for something,” Nissa blurted; Dutch stared daggers at her.
“What?”
Shaw moved cordially toward Umira, extending his arm as though he might put it, patronizingly, around her shoulder. A cold stare from Umira made him think better of it so, instead, he let the limb stretch out toward the ocean magnanimously. “Nothing that would be of interest to sea people like yourself.”
“Treasure, then,” Umira guessed.
“See! She is a pirate! She knows about—!” Dutch began, but a glance from Shaw silenced him.
“She knows now, chum-for-brains,” Red Bandana put in.
“You should not fish for treasure with explosions,” Umira said. “It stirs things up.”
“But we can’t dive for treasure with all these sharks around,” Shirtless protested.
“If you do not disturb them, they will not disturb you.”
“Well, pardon me,” Dutch put in, “but unlike some ‘people,’ maybe I have trouble figuring out just what might disturb a shark.”
“We can’t breathe underwater, either,” Red Bandana added.
“Arzu hasn’t mastered the water-breathing spell yet,” Nissa admitted, slightly embarrassed. “Nor have I.”
Arzu grinned at her fellow mage. “But I do know the blasting spell. And you know the metal-summoning spell. Between us, we can bring up whatever the captain requires.”
Shaw was perspiring heavily, now. He wiped his balding head with a kerchief that, to Umira, stank of sweat and brine. “Look, I’m really just a simple fisherman. This kind of thing is beyond my . . . depth. But, I’m doing the best I can with what I have. I have to try for it, don’t I? I’m sure you understand.”
“Try for what?”
“As I said, nothing that would really interest you, triton. Just some old coins. I found one in the belly of a flatfish when I was trawling here the other day.”
The image of a trawler net dragging the ocean, tearing up the bottom, ripping away the life that lived there, scoured through Umira’s mind. She said nothing, but kept her black eyes fixed on the captain.
Shaw swallowed hard. “It’s . . . more of historical interest than anything else.”
“But worth hiring mages for.”
“Well . . . Yes. As I said, I have to try, don’t I? I don’t want to remain a fisherman all my life. Fishing’s dangerous work, you know. Especially in the Shark Keys.”
Umira gazed at the man for a long while, trying to determine how much of the truth he might be telling. As always, trying to understand people vexed her.
“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’m not interested in treasure. I just want to be left in peace.”
“Who can blame her?” Red Bandana whispered to the other crew members.
“So I will help you find your treasure—if you will leave without further provocations.”
Shaw stroked his stubbly chin. “Well, that seems reasonable. What do you want in return?”
Umira sensed this was some kind of trap. If she said, “Nothing,” they would become suspicious, possibly even hostile. So she said, “One quarter.”
Shaw blanched. “One tenth.”
“One fifth.”
“Done.”
“How will you get past the sharks?” Shirtless asked.
“They will not bother me.”
“A goddess, as I said,” he whispered. Dutch, Silver Earring, and Red Bandana snickered.
“How long will this take?” Shaw asked.
“It depends on what I find.”
“Here,” he said, pulling a golden coin from his vest pocket. “I found this in the flatfish. This is what we’re looking for. Do you think you can find it?” He laid the coin in Umira’s webbed hand; she felt his fingers tremble as his skin brushed hers.
The coin was golden and had a strange face carved into it—the monolithic image of the Khef-Tui, a race long vanished from the World-Sea. Umira wondered where such a thing had come from. Could there really be more like it on the sea bed? She flicked the coin back to him, and he caught it.
“If such coins are there, I will find them.”
“At your pleasure, then. We’ll wait here for you, topside.”
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