Ascension

by Kara Dalkey

  The water seemed terribly silent after the bubbling roar of the tunnel. The larger, bare corridor they were now in looked similar to the place where she and Cephan had left the tunnel, but Nia couldn’t tell whether she had picked the same door.

  “What an unusual mode of travel,” Garun said, finally. “For a moment there, I thought you were trying to get us killed. Now can you tell me where we are?”

  “We’re in the Lower Depths,” Nia said.

  “Oh, joy. My favorite fun-time destination,” Garun said. “Do you mind if I just float here and try to recover from nearly dying for a few minutes?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Nia said. “That’s a very good idea. You just wait right here, Garun, and don’t move. I’ll go get our object and be right back.”

  “We’re not going to return that way, are we?”

  “No, Garun, I promise. We’re not.”

  “Good.” Garun leaned against the wall and let himself sink, closing his eyes.

  Nia took that opportunity to dash off, swimming as fast as she could down the corridor. She was in luck. It was the same door Cephan had used; she was in the same place. Nia passed by the tunnel that sloped upward to the Lower Market and hurried on through the disused, mossy corridor, until she reached the great circular door at the end. The one leading into Ma’el’s cell.

  Chapter Eleven

  I must be crazy, Nia thought as she worked at the metal wheel to open the door. He probably won’t tell me anything. But it’s my one chance. If I’m quick, I lose nothing. If he tells me, I could gain everything. The trip through the oxygenation tunnels must have given her more energy than she thought—the door wasn’t that hard to open. Nia swung the huge round door aside just far enough to slip in.

  Nia ducked into the narrow room beyond and swam up to the half-wall with the wires stretched across the opening. She did as she had seen Cephan do—she plucked one of the wires. She felt her fingers sting and heard a noise go off somewhere in the room beyond. “Hello?” she called out. “Ma’el?”

  The dark-bearded mermyd swam into view, astonishment on his face. “Well. This is an unexpected visit.”

  “I’m not staying long,” Nia said, trying to keep her voice steady. Her heart beat rapidly, and she was sure her face and gills were pale from fear.

  “No one ever does. Except for me. And my shadow.” Joab swam up beside Ma’el.

  After having been close to Ar’an, Nia could now see that Joab was very different—shadowlike and vaguely sinister. Nia would not want to be within tentacle reach of Joab.

  “Have you come for a surprise inspection?” Ma’el asked.

  Nia shook her head. “I’ve come to ask a question,” she said, swallowing.

  Ma’el blinked and raised his brows. “You wish to ask something of me?”

  “It’s something only an Avatar—or a former Avatar—might know.”

  Ma’el regarded her, narrowing his eyes. “Interesting. And you cannot ask it of any current Avatar, or of your grandfather?” he asked, placing a strange emphasis on the last word.

  Nia shivered at the threat she felt in his tone, but shook her head, refusing to show she was afraid. “I need to find something in the Archives. I hear there’s a code for how the Council’s records are filed. I want to know how I would find any record of a secret meeting or decision made recently—right before the upcoming Ascension was announced.”

  A smile played around Ma’el’s lips. “This is truly wonderful,” he said. “The pride of the Bluefins wants to go delving into the Council’s secret business.”

  “Will you tell me or not?” she asked, her throat tightening.

  “How could I resist such a naughty request? You offer me the tiniest bit of revenge. But . . . there is a price.”

  Nia stiffened. There was no way she would agree if what he wanted meant danger to her family. “What price?” she asked.

  “Information, of course,” Ma’el replied. “I hear so little of the world above these days. And the fellow who has taken Cephan’s place as my jailer since he left to compete in the Trials is tediously silent.”

  Nia let out a slow breath. She saw no reason why telling Ma’el what was happening in Atlantis could bring harm to anyone she loved. “I don’t have much time,” she reminded him. “What do you want to know?”

  “How are the Trials going?”

  Nia sighed. “The first two are over. Cephan won the first one.”

  “Ah, good lad. I knew he had promise. And the second?”

  “Was won by my cousin Garun.”

  “Excellent. And . . . ah! I understand now. You are in the midst of the Third Trial, the treasure hunt. I remember it fondly. Which is why you are here with time short.”

  “Yes,” Nia said impatiently.

  “I see.” He paused, breathing bubbles in the water between them. Nia again found it hard to hide her shaking in his presence. “So you wish to have the code, then,” he continued. She nodded. “Very well. What is the date again?”

  “YA 5226, the twenty-fifth day of Warmingwater.”

  Ma’el paused and did some calculations on his fingers. “Ah. Given that secret meetings are very rare, I’ll make the assumption it is the first one of this year. Therefore, you should look for . . . purple-blue-sixty-five. And do not ask for the formula; it would take too long to explain.”

  “Purple-blue-sixty-five,” Nia repeated. “Thank you.” She turned to go.

  “Wait!” Ma’el cried.

  Nia stopped. “What?” she said, her voice shaky.

  “What clue are you on?”

  Nia frowned, but the tension in her muscles eased slightly. “The second. Why?”

  “Excellent. Just one moment.”

  Ma’el disappeared out of sight. Nia had just decided not to wait when he reappeared, and he and Joab approached the low wall. Ma’el slipped something between the wall and the lowest wire. “For you. If I know my fellow Councilors, this should answer your third clue.”

  Nia cautiously approached the wall. The object was a tiny knife, clearly made by a land-dweller. It was all of gold, its hilt the shape of a female mermyd. “It’s . . . lovely. But they’ll ask where we got this.”

  “Tell them you found it behind Madame Hebe’s Land and Sea Shop. They will believe you.”

  More cheating, Nia thought. But with so much irregularity, what was one little bit more? Nia reached in and grasped the knife.

  Quick as light, Joab’s tentacle slipped around Nia’s wrist and held it fast.

  “Let go of me,” Nia said evenly, although her whole body was trembling in fear.

  “Just some last words of wisdom from my Farworlder friend here,” Ma’el said, putting his face close to the wires. “The Unis is strong, Niniane. It takes a sharp and wicked knife to cut the fabric of Fate and shape it to one’s ends. The Councils are too timid for such tailoring of time. Therefore, what will be will be. But take heart, Niniane. For you are the knife. And great things will happen because of you.”

  Joab’s tentacle slithered off her wrist, and Nia backed away until she hit the far wall.

  “I’ve got to go,” was all she could say, and she rushed out the door, Ma’el’s laughter ringing in her ears.

  Heart pounding, Nia slammed the circular door shut and swam as fast as she could down the mossy corridor. It doesn’t matter what they said, she reminded herself over and over. I got the code. Purple-blue-sixty-five. I have the code, and I don’t care . . . but what did they mean that I am the knife? This little knife in my hand?

  She stopped swimming suddenly, trying to remember something. The second clue! Nia stuck the golden knife into the sharkskin pouch at her waist, then dashed up the sloping corridor to the Lower Market. The intense taste of fish and seaweed again filled her mouth as she swam out among the booths. She glanced around frantically and then saw what she’d intended to find—a merchant receiving baskets of live fish from hunters and shellfish from mussel farmers.

  Nia swam up to the merc
hant so fast she startled him. “Niniane of the Bluefin Clan. I’m in the Third Trial. I’d like one of your small baskets of mussels, please.” The rule was, a team could demand of any merchant in Atlantis an item for the Trial. The merchant would be reimbursed by the Lower Council later.

  The fishmonger narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “Maybe you are and maybe you aren’t. If you are, do you know how long it will take for me to get paid? Do you really think I can afford to just give you my wares?”

  “I don’t have time for this.” Nia reached into her pouch, poking her finger on the knife, and pulled out two pieces of coral—most of her pay from the last month of serving in the nursery. “I have no wish to inconvenience you,” Nia told the fishmonger. “Please accept this as payment.”

  His eyes widened as she placed the coral pieces in his palm. “Take as many as you like, my lady!” He thrust two baskets into her arms.

  “Just one will do, thank you,” Nia said. She turned and swam as fast as she could back down to the corridor where she had left Garun.

  He wasn’t there. “Garun!” she cried.

  “There you are!” he responded from behind her.

  She turned and saw he’d been hovering in a small alcove. “I told you to stay put,” she said.

  “You were taking too long,” he argued.

  “I had to haggle. But I’ve got it. Life contained two ways. See?” She held up the basket.

  “That won’t fit in our bag!”

  Nia looked at it. “It will if we break off the handle. Come on!”

  “Oh, it’s too late. We’ll never make it back in time. We’re doomed.”

  Nia ignored him and started back to the Lower Market.

  Garun squinched up his face as he tested the water. “What an amazing flavor you’ve discovered—”

  “This way,” Nia interrupted, leading him over to Spyridon’s booth.

  “You again,” Spyridon greeted her. “And with a different young man this time.”

  “Please, can you give us a lift in your baskets?” she asked, hoping Garun hadn’t heard that last remark.

  Spyridon narrowed his eyes. “You seem to have mistaken me for being in a different line of business.”

  Nia was ready to pay with her last piece of coral, or perhaps give him the golden knife, when Garun cut in. “We’re the Bluefin team for the Third Trial,” he said impatiently.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Spyridon asked. “Always wanted to be part of the Trials. Hop on in.”

  Nia breathed a sigh of relief and showed Garun how to curl up in a basket. Spyridon gathered some other merchants, happily exclaiming that these were Ascension contestants who needed assistance. With many hands to pull on the ropes, the baskets containing Nia and Garun rose swiftly up and up and up. Nonetheless, Nia heard Garun’s whining from the basket below her.

  “We won’t be in time. I should never have chosen you as my second. I don’t know why I let you lead me into this.”

  “We’re fine,” Nia growled back at him. “We are going to win. Stop worrying.” She ignored the rest of his moaning all the way to the Starfish warehouse.

  The warehouse was deserted—everyone had gone to watch the Trial. Nia clambered out of her basket, gazing around.

  “Where are we?” Garun asked as Nia helped him out of his basket.

  “Not far from home. Help me get the basket into the sack.”

  They had to push the handle down and tug the sack tight around the mussel basket, but they made it fit.

  “There,” Nia said. “Now, last one to the plaza is a sea slug. Let’s go!” Nia took the netting down from one of the windows, carefully replacing it after she and Garun were out. She caught up to Garun, and they raced at high speed back to the plaza.

  There was only mild applause for Garun and Nia as they turned in their sack. When they asked their ranking, they found that more than half the teams had already come back.

  “See?” Garun hissed at Nia. “We’ve lost. Let’s just hope we’re not disqualified.”

  “It’s only the second clue,” Nia said. “We still have a chance.”

  The Lobster Clan worker returned with the third and final clue:

  “Land and Sea

  Eternity

  Death and Life,

  Beauty, strife.”

  “They warned me the third clue was tough,” Garun said. “Full of contradictions.”

  Nia thought of the knife Ma’el had given her. “He was right,” she murmured. “It fits.”

  “What?” Garun asked, his small eyes narrowing further.

  Nia leaned close to Garun’s ear. “Where is Madame Hebe’s Land and Sea Shop?” she asked.

  “Over there, I think,” Garun said, waving his hand in the direction of the far side of the plaza.

  “Follow me.”

  “Oh no, not again!”

  “No, this will be quick and painless, I promise,” Nia assured him. She led Garun to the narrow passageway behind that row of shops. They were closed, fortunately, and Nia spent a couple of minutes pretending to rummage around in the trash bins.

  “Nia . . .”

  “Got it!” She returned to Garun and showed him the little golden knife. “It’s made by a land-dweller, and the mermyd represents the sea. It’s made of gold, which never rusts or rots—so it’s eternal. It’s an object of death with an image of life. A weapon with a beautiful design. It fits.”

  “But how did you . . . ?”

  “Come on, let’s hurry,” Nia cut him off. She turned and headed back, Garun following her. As she swam, the pride in solving the riddle faded, and she realized she hadn’t even wanted to win. How could she, when a win for Garun would hurt Cephan’s chances? But instinct had made her try her best, despite knowing that this whole contest was being controlled anyway. At least now, with the information Nia had gained from Ma’el, she’d soon be able to know the real reason her grandfather was using magic to help Garun win.

  Chapter Twelve

  That evening, a small celebratory dinner was thrown for Nia and Garun by their families at the Bluefin Palace, even though there were four more Trials to come. They had easily won the Third Trial, given the speed and creativity with which they satisfied the third clue. It had made Nia a little sick that no one besides Garun questioned how Nia had discovered the knife so quickly. And even Garun had stopped asking how she knew where to look. Apparently Madame Hebe had confirmed that she had once owned a knife like that among her wares, but had lost it many years ago.

  Nia’s parents had given Nia a beautiful new blue-and-silver fish-scale gown, in gratitude for her helping Garun win, and so Nia wore it to the victory dinner. But she had a very strange feeling when she received it—as if it were payment for doing something wrong. She had helped Garun win the one trial for which he didn’t seem to have been given magical assistance from Dyonis. She felt a terrible sense of guilt that she was now as much a conspirator as the rest of her family in an effort to hand Garun victory, taking it away from Cephan.

  Nonetheless, Nia tried to keep her spirits up as she milled and drifted around the dining table with her relatives, feasting on shrimp balls and tuna. After all, she had important business to conduct.

  She found her moment when she saw her mother and Dyonis conversing off to one side of the room. It barely even surprised her when they broke off their conversation as soon as Nia swam up. Yet again, there was something they were keeping from her. Nia no longer felt guilty about interrupting. “Mother, Dyonis, there’s something important I’d like to speak to you about,” she said.

  “Then, by all means, let us hear it,” Dyonis said.

  “Yes, we have the ears of dolphins, as they say,” Tyra added.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Mother, about considering my future. And I’ve come to a decision. You were right about the Archives post. It’s important to my family and my career that I should accept it. In fact, I would like to start there right away. Tomorrow, if th
at can be arranged.”

  Both her mother and grandfather looked astonished, but pleased.

  “I am very glad to hear of your newfound ambition,” Tyra said, “but, dear, the Trials are still going on.”

  “I wasn’t very comfortable during the first two Trials, Mother,” Nia admitted. “And I’m sure that Garun will do very well whether I am present to cheer him on or not.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear, but I also meant that the Master of the Archives will be watching the Trials as well. There would be no one in the Archives to interview or train you until the Trials are over.”

  All the better for me, Nia thought. If I can get in there. “Could I at least look around, get a feel for the place and the work?” she pressed. “Then I’ll be able to give a much better impression when I’m interviewed.”

  Tyra glanced at Dyonis. “Well—”

  “I think it’s an excellent idea!” Dyonis said. “Balasai will be there, and he’s a very capable fellow. He can show Nia the ups and downs and give the Archives Master a good report of her when he returns.”

  And you won’t have me around to notice while you’re improving Garun’s chances, Nia thought with an edge of bitterness.

  Tyra shrugged. “There you have it, then. Start whenever you like. I will send word on ahead so that this Balasai will be expecting you. Truly, Nia, I am impressed with this new maturity you are displaying.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Nia said, looking at Dyonis. “I feel as though I’ve had to grow up a lot recently.”

  That night, Nia slept better than she had in a long time. The following morning, she allowed herself to sleep late. Then, after a quick breakfast, she drifted over to the Farworlder Palace.

  Before going to the Archives, Nia decided to look in at the Royal Nursery. She wanted to say good-bye, in her own way, to the little creatures. She was going to miss them.

  The palace was nearly deserted, since many of the clerks and ministers had gone to watch the Trials. The coral stone, marble, and malachite building, with its high, narrow columns and narrow archways, seemed dreamlike—without the usual bustle of those doing the business of the High Council, it was silent and forbidding.