“If it is of any help, I also offer the Uyl Talisman,” Tom said, taking it from his arm and holding it out before Oi’alli and her warriors. Wui’an stepped forward and reached for it, but Oi’alli stopped him.
“No, I do not require it. The help you have already offered and your sincere concern for my people are enough. Come, and we will go to Ty’illat and speak of what is to be done. It is a city of the Ty’il, but they are allies and will welcome us.” Taking her anchor-topped staff from one of her warriors, she led the way down to the water. Wui’an followed close behind, keeping himself between her and Tom, who hid his relief with a modest expression. Oi’alli sang softly to the water, moving her fingers like the arms of an anemone. Her sensual music split the waves and forced back the sea, creating something like a tunnel or stairway that stretched out to sea and descended along the sea floor. Down she followed it, disappearing from sight beneath the churning water above. After her went Wui’an, and behind him walked Tom, ducking his head. The rest of the warriors transformed, their legs fusing together into a long tail and their skin turning silvery blue. As Oi’alli, Wui’an and Tom walked along the sand, the tunnel of air stretched out ahead of them and closed in behind Tom, much like a moving bubble. The other warriors swam slowly beside them, outside the bubble, cruising along as a myriad of colorful sea life appeared, flying in schools about the reefs or crawling along the rocks beneath. A lone shark patrolled the reef, occasionally venturing out to inspect the curious moving bubble and the two-legged creatures inside. The shark’s expression and behavior fascinated Tom as much as it put him on edge. As it followed them away from the reef, one of Oi’alli’s men waved it away with his spear.
The long hike across the ocean bored the others, but Tom enjoyed it. Never had he seen the ocean from the perspective of the Atlanteans. Such a multitude of strange living things populated it. Colorful dancing blobs with no eyes or limbs, sinister stinging fish that looked like stone, an occasional octopus that would fly away in a cloud of ink—the denizens of the deep lurked around every reef, along every shelf. Some, like stingrays that did not appreciate being disturbed, lay buried and hidden underfoot in the sand. The farther they walked the less Tom saw the light of the sun falling weakly through the water from high above. It had been late afternoon when they left the beach, and soon no more daylight would reach them on the sea floor. Oi’alli insisted that everyone move with some haste, for even merfolk could not navigate the oceanic plain easily in the dark.
One last great shelf lay between the islands and the open ocean. Tom could see where it fell off into the abyss far in the distance, even in the dreamy marine twilight. It appeared as he, Oi’alli and the others came to the peak of a smaller shelf overlooking the next plain of white sand. As Tom hiked up the rise, a beautiful glow captured his attention. It came from a dense, lush city sitting on the sea floor ahead. Tom could only imagine what Atlantis must have once looked like if it were anything like the city he now saw before him. Just like the great Atlantis, the city of Ty’illat rose high above the oceanic plain, its many towers clustered together, attracting all manner of sea life like a beacon.
“Ty’illat is the closest to Isla Oscura,” said Oi’alli as they neared the city. Her voice bounced loudly against the walls of the bubble. “The inhabitants of Ty’illat left the land long after the Oi’tan. My people are among the oldest folk of the sea. The natives of Alan’tillan, the city you call Atlantis, are the oldest, but none are left.” As Oi’alli raised her staff and sang quietly, Tom watched as a small light appeared a short distance away and swam toward them. A pudgy little fish circled overhead, just outside the bubble. Soon more of them appeared from the dark, all gathering over the spiny conch shell on the end of Oi’alli’s staff. Before long, hundreds of them, all swimming in a school together, followed the travelers like a living lantern, their glow lighting the way into the city of Ty’illat.
Oi’alli and her warriors were greeted promptly as they entered the city. As they passed through the outer wall, the bubble of air keeping them separated from the sea water vanished. It was no longer necessary, for the city was contained within a large dome of air itself. The people of Ty’illan walked around on their human feet. Only when moving from city to city, or from the sea to the world above did they ever need to be able to swim or breathe under water. Following closely behind Wui’an in a rush to stay dry and avoid getting sucked back outside into the cold, dark water, Tom nearly ran into the warrior. Wui’an turned and gave him a cold look. Most of the people of Ty’illan were not accustomed to seeing a land dweller, much less a werewolf. Curious eyes looked up from their work or chatter to stare as Tom passed by, following Oi’alli toward a grand meeting place she referred to as the spirit house.
“It is urgent that we speak with the Ty’il elders about our decision to go to war. No matter whether they decide to join us in battle, their city is close to where much fighting will take place, and they deserve to be prepared,” explained Oi’alli as Tom caught up to her.
“What are you going to tell them?” asked Tom.
“Everything you have told me. I will also tell them the Oi’tan and, most likely, the Cui’oi will be going to battle five nights from this one,” she answered, carrying herself in a stately manner.
“That soon, eh?” said Tom. “What do you plan to do?”
“You will hear that soon. Let’s go inside,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her into the spirit house. Without a sound she instructed Wui’an to order his warriors to wait for them outside the house.
Inside the spirit house more than a hundred masked Ty’il elders sat in a circle. It was clear that the most senior members of the group were seated together at the far end of the house. There were six of them, and each wore a magnificent mask, more beautiful and much larger than those worn on every other face in the room.
“We will wait,” said Oi’alli, touching Tom on the arm. “They are consulting the spirits as we speak. They wear the masks so the spirits do not recognize their faces.”
“Are the masks—”
“Creatures of the sea, and also the likenesses of many different spirits.” She answered his question before he could finish, then held a finger to her lips to signal him to be quiet.
“Welcome, wise and beautiful Oi’alli of Oi’tannan,” said a voice from across the room. It came from behind the mask of a senior Ty’il elder. The mask he wore reminded Tom of the face of a sea turtle. Many shells decorated the turtle’s face, and a great number of strings hung about the face, strung with glass beads like the ones around Oi’alli’s neck.
“Thank you for your hospitality, all of you,” she answered, gazing around the room. “I apologize for coming unannounced, but matters of much importance must be discussed on this day, this very moment.”
“Is there trouble, Oi’alli? What news have you brought to the Ty’il on this day? Please, come and sit. Speak to us and we shall listen.” The old man invited her in and propped his hands on his knees. The masked faces next to him turned quietly, their unblinking eyes fixed on Oi’alli.
“Thank you, but I will stand, for I must go soon after I speak,” she said, stepping into the circle directly across from the most senior of them. Tom stood over to her right, behind the circle.
“I have come to announce that on the fifth night from this one, the Oi’tan will be prepared for war and will go to battle against the land dwellers that have poisoned our waters.” She paused as the room filled with hushed whispers and excited, indrawn breaths. “In the early morning we and our allies, the Cui’oi, will march on Isla del Sol against our enemies and their fortresses.”
“What is the purpose of this march, Oi’alli?” asked a voice behind one of the masks next to the most senior elder. Painted blue and yellow, the mask was not unlike the grinning face of a porpoise.
“We will find and take back a source of powerful magic, which Lord Poison has stolen from our kinsmen—a spirit named Simbi Anpaka,” she explained, expressing her u
rgency with a graceful movement of her hands. “Lord Poison has upset this spirit and brought sickness to the islands and waters. I know you have all seen it. But this march is for more than appeasing the spirits!” Oi’alli swept the house with her eyes, her determination seeming to fill the air. “We will take back everything that has been stolen from us! We will drive the colonizers from this place. We will defend our homes and fight a battle to end all battles, so that our children will know a life of peace and happiness!”
“I see the goodness and strength of Maova in your eyes, Oi’alli,” said the senior elder. The men at his right and left nodded, their masks bouncing up and down as they raised their dark-skinned arms and mumbled in agreement. “You have never failed in these matters before. We shall consult the spirits, and if they show us good visions, the Ty’il will follow their Oi’tan and Cui’oi brethren to war.”
“They shall have my gratitude,” said Oi’alli, smiling and stepping back from the circle respectfully. “I must return to my own people now and make preparations. Please send your word before three nights have passed. Farewell.” Turning around, Oi’alli gestured to Tom, and the two left the spirit house, walking outside into the glowing city.
“The tide is in your favor already, I believe,” said Tom, congratulating Oi’alli as they joined her waiting soldiers.
“The tide is always in my favor,” she returned, haughtily. “I am the greatest sorceress beneath these seas!” She smiled brightly and looked up at Tom. “We must not waste time,” she said, looking at her soldiers. “We will travel this night and speak with the Cui’oi, then we will return to Oi’tannan and prepare for war.”
“That is such a great distance!” Tom reminded her. “I surely cannot travel as quickly as you.”
“This is true,” she agreed. “We cannot take the time to walk.”
“My chieftess,” said Wui’an. “Perhaps we can go in your stead.”
“Yes, I believe that is wise,” said Oi’alli. “Go to the Cui’oi and tell them we will march for Isla del Sol five nights from this. We will meet offshore and attack together. Be quick, Wui’an. I will travel back to Oi’tannan and await your return.”
“I will do this,” said Wui’an, nodding and heading out with his soldiers.
“Now,” she said, turning to Tom, “what will we do about you?”
“You’re the greatest sorceress beneath these seas, aren’t you?” Tom jested. “Can you think of nothing?”
“Enough of you!” she said, smiling smartly. “Of course I know what must be done, but you will not like it. You rely too much on your legs and your lungs.”
“Oh, I see. Going to turn me into a fish, are you?”
“No, I am going to make you half a fish,” she corrected him. “Would you like to learn what it is like to be Oi’tan?”
“Eh …” Tom was not entirely comfortable with the idea, but he couldn’t think of any better way to get from Ty’illat to Oi’tannan. “How long will it last?”
“I promise I will give you back your clumsy werewolf body once we are in Oi’tannan, if you still believe you want it,” said Oi’alli, having fun making Tom uneasy. “It is only a matter of magic, not like your werewolf curse. If you do not know the songs—and I do not plan to teach them to you—you cannot remain one of us. You will change back into a land-walker.”
“Songs?” Tom repeated, not fully understanding. “You mean siren songs? I have heard tales of beautiful voices drawing sailors to their doom. Is that how it’s done, then?”
“How awful! No!” she said. “Do you know how the people of Alan’tillan first changed their bodies? They sang to the sea, Thomas.” Oi’alli moved her hips and hummed. “Magic is not enough. You must move like the sea and speak like the sea. The people of Alan’tillan hid their most powerful magic in songs, so the land-walkers could not learn it. I will show you,” she said. Oi’alli stepped up close to Tom and he backed away. She laughed, giving him a moment and then moved close again. Placing a hand on his chest she stood on her toes and put her face close to his, moving her lips and beginning to sing softly into his. Tom felt her cool breath and his face turned pink, but he kept still. It felt as if her voice left her body and jumped into his, and then he began to feel strange.
“You should take off those clothes,” Oi’alli said.
“What?”
“When you change, they will be torn to shreds.” She offered him a sealskin bag with a long strap. “Put your clothes in this. You may need them later, but that will be entirely up to you.”
He patted his trouser pockets to make sure his jades were still safe where they had miraculously stayed during his journey through the Divide and across the sea to Isla Del Sol. Stalling for time, he took off his shirt and folded it into the bag. Finally he took off his trousers, carefully folding them around the jades. With his clothes in the bag, he put the loop of the strap over his head and under his left arm.
“Ready? Keep your balance,” said Oi’alli, keeping her hands on his arms as he struggled to stay upright. Her cool skin touched him, and as her eyes wandered his chest and stomach, so did her hands. When he fell forward, she caught him in a momentary embrace, one of her hands around his waist and the other squeezing his left thigh. Bashfully, he leaned back and blushed. The transformation happened quickly, and before Tom knew it he was looking down, not at his feet, but at a long, finned tail that grew and grew, sprawling out in coils under him as he tried to balance.
“Feels like my legs are tied up and stretched out like a rope!” he exclaimed, holding onto her and flailing about. “Wait, why didn’t you just do this a moment ago? I could have made the journey to the Cui’oi with you.”
“I could have, but Wui’an does not like you, and he is capable of the task himself. Besides, you may be an awful swimmer. We still have to see. And I want to speak with you alone.” The way Oi’alli manipulated things reminded Tom of Molly. He knew what her plan was all about, and he was going to have to disappoint her … after they made it to Oi’tannan.
Tom’s skin turned silvery and smooth, except on his flanks where it was scaly and armored. After some practice, he could slide himself around by putting his hands to the ground and shoving himself forward, but he knew he would never master the art of slithering with the same grace as Oi’alli. It did not matter, however, since the two were soon outside the city, floating freely in the dark, where Tom had no trouble at all, discovering the ease with which he could fly through the water with a snap of his strong tail. In fact he enjoyed it more than Oi’alli had expected, and over the many hours it took to travel to Oi’tannan she had to chase him down more than once to tell him he was going the wrong way.
Oi’tannan appeared like a great glowing campfire in a dark wood. It was an even larger city than Ty’illan, not taller, but proudly sprawled across the oceanic plain. Tom noticed the waters were warmer and less dense, for Oi’tannan was not sunk as deeply beneath the sea as Ty’illan. Here there were corals that still grew, and how they did! There was no doubt in Tom’s mind that it was Oi’alli’s will that the living things of the sea clamored to her city, because when he remarked on its beauty she beamed and held her head high. The compliment was well-deserved. Oi’tannan was surely the fairest city in all the Atlantic. The Oi’tan were many, and their magic was of the strongest and oldest belonging to merfolk; their dwelling place showed it in its mystic spires, ancient temples and wondrous palace, which sat at the heart of it all.
“Marvelous, Oi’alli. What a place!” said Tom, gawking as they walked through the streets and Oi’alli greeted her people. Everyone loved her, their young, noble and spiritual chieftess. Families invited her into their homes to eat and drink. Children looked up from their games to watch her walk past. Her warriors lowered their heads in respect.
“Do you see why you did not need to persuade me? Look around at all that is in need of my protection. I cannot bear to think what would happen if the land-walkers took all this from us.” Walking as perfectly as she swam,
she showed Tom around the city as they made their way to her palace. “I was going to bring you here many years ago. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I had not the time. It pains me that I did not accept your invitation.” Tom certainly remembered those days. Oi’alli had developed a great trust in him in a short time. She helped rescue him from servitude at the hands of Marcos Lapuente. In return, he’d stolen the Uyl Talisman from a powerful and dangerous man named Laughing Tree, Oi’alli’s father. Before long Tom and Oi’alli’s youthful ambitions and eager feelings for each other carried them away. Oi’alli allowed Tom to keep the Uyl Talisman. He in turn won her over by offering her riches from his first few exploits as a pirate, running his own crew in the Caribbean. For a time she would come ashore and see him secretly, and then as time passed and Tom fell into more and more trouble, their bond weakened. After Tom met Molly Bishop in Barbados, Oi’alli ceased to hear from him at all.
“Well you are here now,” she said. “It is good that I can show you the might of this city and its people. I have tried and failed to win the allegiance of the land-walkers, the Bureau, as they call themselves. They talk and talk and talk, Thomas. But they do not understand.” Frustrated, she shook her head, the shells in her headdress rattling and clicking.
“They do not want to understand, Oi’alli. They want an invitation. And when you let them come inside, they’ll take everything and tell you it is not yours. They’ll tell you their way is the correct way, and that they can make better use of what you have than you can,” said Tom. “They’ve done it to the magesmiths. They’ll do it to the clans, and after long, even the cults will follow.”
“Why does the world have to change?” Oi’alli wondered aloud. “Isn’t that what is happening?”
The Lore Series (Box Set): All 3 Books In One Volume Page 83