by Kara Dalkey
Workers took up the stones and delivered one to each contestant, helping them settle the block on their shoulders. Most competitors were able to position the stone comfortably right away, but a few were having trouble. Garun seemed to be one of them—he nearly doubled over under the weight of his. Nia’s parents and cousins shouted encouragement at his image on the wall, but, of course, he couldn’t hear them.
The workers stepped back, and the conchshell trumpets sounded again. The gates opened, and the contestants staggered out. Nia could see a couple of the tailed mermyds trying the hopping strategy, but they were having difficulty with balance. One hopped too low, couldn’t get his tail back under him, and was smashed to the arena bed by his stone. Cephan was doing a combination wriggle-hop that kept him higher in the water, but he was having trouble keeping the stone settled on his shoulders, which slowed his speed. He was staring at the arena floor and occasionally at the other contestants, which Nia knew would not help him strategically.
Garun, on the other hand, doggedly marched forward, despite being bent double, just placing one leg in front of the other. It wasn’t elegant and it looked very uncomfortable, but it was moving him along at a steady pace, his balance secure.
As the front pack of racers reached the middle of the field, Nia felt a wave of nausea overcome her, and her headache returned, stronger this time.
Then the accidents began again. Some of the contestants toppled sideways, into the person next to them, knocking them over. Because the field was so spread out, not as many were caught in tangles, but quite a few dropped their stones and had to waste time picking them up again. Cephan was lucky; the mermyd next to him toppled left instead of right. Garun was narrowly missed, because he was bent so low, but he kept plodding forward. One poor mermyd girl fell with two stones colliding on top of her, and emergency physicians had to rush out to tend to her.
Dyonis came to the front of the box and stared out at the field. Then he put his hand on Nia’s shoulder just as she reached up to rub her throbbing temple. “Are you all right?”
Nia looked into his eyes. And she knew. It was as if Dyonis were connected to her as intensely as to Ar’an—she could see the guilt and sense what he had just done.
I am not ill. This was not a coincidence. Magic was used to help Garun. Powerful magic. And Dyonis is responsible. “I’m feeling a bit dizzy,” Nia said. “I think I’d better go home now.”
Suddenly the water around her was filled with a roar. It was her family cheering.
“What’s happening?” she asked, startled.
“Are you blind? Garun was the first to the pole!” her father shouted. He threw his arms up, cheering wildly.
Nia stared openmouthed at Dyonis, but he did not return her gaze. This time, Garun had won.
Chapter Ten
Nia swam toward the central Marketplace of Atlantis, angry, numb, and confused. She had not slept well. Her world was no longer what it seemed. My grandfather is a cheat. And my parents, and the rest of my family—they’re obviously involved as well. It must have been what they were talking about all those times when they grew quiet upon my arrival. A new, sickening thought struck her. The Councils are cheats too. Dyonis could not use so much power without them knowing. They intend to completely violate the trust of the citizens of Atlantis in order to make Garun an Avatar. But why?
Nia had considered not showing up for the Third Trial. Why bother, if the Councils were going to ensure Garun’s success? But her suspicions, strong as they were, had not been proven. Yes, she had been as certain as she’d ever been of anything when she looked in Dyonis’s eyes yesterday. But that wasn’t the same thing as tangible evidence. What could she do—announce to Atlantis what was happening? Who would believe her? And if someone actually did, then what would happen to her grandfather? How could she do that to someone she loved so much?
Nia let her gills open wider to take in more oxygen, trying to clear her head. She had managed to arrive at the central plaza of the Grand Marketplace a little early. The shops right on the edge of the plaza were closed for the day. But others, on side streets, were doing a booming business. Spectators already crowded the balconies and terraces overlooking the Marketplace, and an area in one corner of the plaza had been roped off to keep the crowds clear of the contestants.
Automatically, Nia looked for Cephan, but apparently he hadn’t arrived yet. She did spot Garun right away, though. He was hanging on the guardrope, impatiently cleaning the webbing between his fingers, looking like the completely ignorable nothing that he was. What? Nia wondered. What quality does he have that is so precious that I don’t have? He probably doesn’t even know himself, the poor fool.
Nia swam up to him. “Hello, Garun.”
“Nia. You look awful,” he replied without blinking.
“Good morning to you too,” she said, barely restraining her annoyance. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I told you to get a good night’s rest, didn’t I?” he reprimanded her.
“I had too much to think about.”
“Don’t you want me to win?” he demanded.
“Oh, you’ll win. I’m surprised you have any doubts about that,” she muttered.
Garun shrugged. “Anything can happen. So, I hear you’re going to be taking over my position at the Archives.”
Nia sighed. “Yes, I suppose so. My parents want me to.”
Garun shook his head. “You’re so lucky. I wish I didn’t have to leave it.”
Nia’s eyes widened. “Really? Why?”
“I loved that job,” he said. “In my opinion it’s the best job you can have here in Atlantis.”
Nia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I don’t know how that’s possible,” she said.
“You can learn about anything there,” he insisted. “Anything you want to know about Atlantis, or even land-dweller history, it’s all there. If you know where to look. And they’ll train you to know where to look.”
Suddenly Nia had an idea, about a way she could learn the truth she needed to know so badly. “Anything? Even records of the Councils? And their decisions?”
Garun frowned. “Of course. That’s what the Archives were originally set aside for. Everything written by an Avatar is stored there. All the meetings recorded, going back to the Sinking and maybe earlier.”
“Have you read them?” Nia asked hopefully.
Garun rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you can just pick them up and read them. They’re stored in the dry room. And they’re filed by code. You have to know what you’re looking for. Which means you have to be a Council member yourself, or have specific instructions from a Council member.”
“Oh,” Nia was a little disappointed, but of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. Still, it meant there was a way, possibly, to find out what she was desperate to know. “Thank you, Garun,” she said. “You’ve given me reasons to actually look forward to working in the Archives.”
“I hope so,” Garun said. “I’d hate the thought of someone taking over that post who didn’t appreciate it.”
“Oh, I’ll appreciate it,” Nia promised. “I definitely will.” Her attention was distracted as Cephan arrived with his second, a thin Stingray male Nia had seen only once or twice. Cephan saw her and waggled his eyebrows in greeting, but didn’t speak. Contestants were not allowed to talk to competitors other than their teammates during the Third Trial. Nia gave him a smile before he turned away to talk to his second.
The rope enclosure filled quickly with the rest of the contestants. The noise and energy from the surrounding spectators filtered down into the plaza. Workers of the Lobster Clan, in their bright blue-and-red tunics, handed each team a folded leaf of kelpaper. “Don’t unfold until you’re told,” the workers said as the notes were passed out. “Teams who do will be disqualified.”
Garun snatched the kelpaper out of the worker’s hands and held it tightly.
Does he not trust me? Nia wondered. Or is he just being his usual se
lfish self?
Then Xemos came swimming out overhead, accompanied by the crowd’s roaring and cheering. It began to sink in that she really was part of the Trials after all, even if only for a little while, and Nia felt some excitement stirring in her blood.
“Welcome, again, citizens!” Xemos announced. “Welcome and be witness to the Third Trial. In this test, those who would be Avatar must prove their ability to work closely with another, to pool their intelligence and strength to solve problems at hand. Each challenger has chosen a second, a teammate of their own clan, who will assist in finding the three objects each team must gather. While speed will be noted, we will also be judging cooperation and creative thinking. Each of the contestants will be given a clue on kelpaper. There is no exact answer to the clue—it will be up to the imagination of the competitors to select objects that satisfy the description.
“Each team will also be given a sailcloth sack. Competitors, please note the size of the sack—the objects you select must be able to fit into it. Therefore, you must not bring back anything bigger than your head. Please do not forcibly remove any object attached to a building or a person. We want Atlantis to remain in one piece after you are done. At the trumpet blast, you may open your clues for the first goal.”
Xemos swam away, and the conchshell trumpeters emerged out onto balconies high above the square. Every team member gazed at the musicians, waiting. In one swift movement, the trumpeters raised the shells to their lips and gave a blast. Garun ripped open the kelpaper, and Nia read over his shoulder.
“Where are sea and mind contained,
Together flowing, together still,
A world that’s guided by the will?”
“This one’s easy,” Garun said. “Follow me.”
“What is it?” Nia asked.
“Not here. Do you want everyone else to know?”
So Nia swam after Garun as he swam at a casual pace north out of the Marketplace. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry. A few of the other teams took off like sharks after prey, each headed in a different direction. The remaining teams hovered in the plaza, still puzzling over the clue. Some of the people standing on the balconies cheered down at them: “Bluefin! Bluefin! Garun! Garun!” But neither Nia nor Garun even glanced around to see who it was. It was considered bad form.
Garun brought her under a stone archway that led into a narrow, curving alley between tall clan palaces. Each layer of the palaces had family apartment branches, but there were few windows on the alley side. As Garun angled up and began to swim higher, Nia again felt the itching, touching in her mind—faint this time. Oh no. The Councils aren’t going to try to interfere in this Trial too, are they? But it wasn’t the same as the headaches and nausea of the day before—it was more like the infant Farworlder. Nia shook her head and chose to ignore it. It was too confusing. She didn’t need the distraction right now.
Higher and higher Garun swam; then he veered toward a specific palace, to the topmost apartment, where the clan elder would live. There he entered an open window bearing the design of the Octopus Clan.
“Garun!” Nia shout-whispered, “We aren’t supposed to go into private homes!”
But he didn’t even look back. Not knowing what else to do, Nia swam in after him.
The window led into a large, square room with shelves on the walls and a tall stone table in the center. Garun was taking a glass sphere the size of his hand off a pedestal on the table. “Garun!” Nia swam up to him. The sphere was hollow, like the toy float Cephan had given the little Farworlders. But this sphere had colored oils and sand swirling around within it.
“It’s a meditation globe,” Garun said. “It’s used in magic training for focusing the mind to do basic telekinesis. This is my tutor’s teaching room, so it’s not really private at all.”
Nia paused. Is this part of the special training and help Cephan was hinting at?
“But that must be incredibly valuable,” she said.
“My tutor won’t mind if I borrow it,” he said with a shrug.
“But it must also be very rare—only a very few contestants would be able to find such a thing. Isn’t that a bit unfair?”
Garun whirled on Nia in exasperation. “What is the matter with you? First, anyone who studies magic seriously knows where to find versions of this—there are cheaper ones around. But you spent all your time on physical training instead of magical studies, so I suppose you wouldn’t know that. And second, what do we care whether it’s fair? We are trying to win here.”
Nia stifled the angry comebacks she was dying to make. Just play along, she told herself. Maybe later, when I’m at the Archives, I can find proof of this unfairness and bring it to light. But not yet. “I’m sorry,” Nia said. “I had too much fair play pounded into me at the Academy. I’ll try to let it go.”
“You would be wise to,” Garun said. “You have no idea how important this is. To everyone.”
“Oh, I have some idea,” Nia retorted.
Garun only looked at her, put the sphere in the sailcloth sack, and said, “Let’s go.”
Nia and Garun were cheered again when they reentered the plaza. Nia ignored it, feeling like they didn’t deserve the praise. Garun signaled to the Trials worker that they were ready, and handed off the cloth bag. The worker dutifully took the bag and went off to log the item and the time. Then the worker returned with the bag, and the second clue. Again, Garun took possession of the kelpaper, and Nia had to read it over his shoulder.
“Life contained,
to sustain
other life.”
Garun rubbed his chin and frowned. Nia could not help thinking of Ma’el. That was surely “life contained,” if anything was—and if Dyonis could be believed, Ma’el was confined in order to save land-dweller lives. But they couldn’t very well bring Ma’el in.
“Food sustains life,” Garun murmured. “But fish is already dead by the time we eat it. And what do they mean by contained? Food contained is already dead.”
Nia remembered the Starfish warehouse—the fish that were sent up in the baskets were already dead. But then she remembered the baskets she saw the hunters and shellfish farmers bringing into the Lower Market. “Come on,” she told Garun. “I know what will work, and where to find it.”
“But—”
“Just come with me.” A wild thought was growing in Nia’s mind, and she wanted to get moving before she could talk herself out of it. She grabbed Garun by the elbow and kicked off out of the plaza with powerful strokes.
“Where are you taking me?” Garun asked, but he did not struggle from her grip.
“Be quiet,” Nia instructed. “Do you want everyone to hear?” she said, turning his words on him.
She swam past the pearl shop where she had met Cephan days before, swimming in a circle around it until she was certain no one happened to be watching. Then she ducked down alongside the wall with the bubbling windows until she found the weighted drapery. Nia found the metal door in the wall.
“Hang on to me,” she told Garun.
“What are you doing?” Garun nearly shrieked.
“Do you want to win or not?” Nia demanded, impatient. “Hold on, or else.” Somewhat to her surprise, Garun meekly put his arms around her waist. Nia turned the scallop-shaped knob, muscled the door open, and swam in, pulling Garun in with her. The door slammed shut behind them.
Nia grabbed onto the metal rung beside the door, finding she had to hold on with all her strength. The roar of the bubbling water filled her ears. “Open your gills and breathe!” she yelled to Garun. She held on as long as she could, taking in the superoxygenated water. When she could no longer feel her fingers, she released the rung and let the current take them.
It wasn’t as much fun as it had been with Cephan. Nia didn’t really like being so close to Garun, who was making little cries of surprise and terror as the water propelled them down through the tunnel. She also had to pay attention to the phosphorescent markings along the wall to make sur
e she found the right door.
Soon Nia was running out of oxygen, and she knew she had to stop again, but now they were hurtling down the tube at amazing speed. By turning her feet, she was able to direct their movement over to the right-hand wall and as the next phosphorescent marker came by she reached out to grab a rung. But her hand banged hard against the metal, she couldn’t grip it, and they rushed right past.
This was bad. Nia already felt herself wanting to go to sleep. If she couldn’t grab a rail or open another door, she and Garun would go unconscious. Nia didn’t know how long the tunnel was or what mechanism lay at the farthest end. Too long without oxygen, and she and Garun would both die.
Pulling Garun up closer, she yelled in his ear, “Garun, you have to help me! We have to grab the next rung!”
“Uhhhhh?”
Nia started to panic. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, and black spots started to appear before her eyes. She used what strength was left in her legs to get right beside the wall, letting it scrape against her skin. This is going to hurt, she thought, but she figured it would be better than dying. She held her arms out ahead of her. She felt metal strike her hands, and she gripped it for all she was worth. Her fingers began to slip. . . .
Garun’s hand reached up beside hers. With three hands holding the rung, and Garun holding Nia’s waist, they could withstand the rush of water current. Nia opened her gills and let the water rush by. The sudden energy was incredible, and she just hung there some moments, basking in the feeling of being awake, alert, alive. It was like returning from the dead. She looked up and saw the phosphorescent marker for a door. We’ve got to get out of here.
Hooking one foot into the rung, Nia felt along the wall and found the handle for the door. She turned it and shoved the door open. She and Garun swung around and grabbed the door frame and pulled themselves through before the current could carry them away again. Once they were outside the tunnel, Nia let the door clang shut behind them.