Transformation

by Kara Dalkey

  “Oh,” Corwin said. “And that’s where the—”

  “Shhh!” We can’t talk about the sword here.

  “Oh. Right. Um, what does Atlantis need a dome for anyway,” Corwin asked, changing the subject, “if there’s water inside and out?”

  “It lessens the pressure from the water above it. Once we’re inside, we won’t need our powers to keep from being crushed.”

  “That’s a relief,” Corwin said. “I’m starting to understand how a lump of silver in a coin press feels. Wait, why am I tasting ashes on the water? Is something burning? Nothing can burn down here, can it?”

  “No, not usually.” Nia also tasted the faint, minerally tang of ash, and it was just as she’d feared—the memories rushed back. Memories of swimming in the worker tunnels . . . with Cephan. She pictured the handsome, dark-haired mermyd as he’d been then, when he’d seemed kind and gentle and sweet. When she’d thought she would be happy to spend the rest of her life with him. She remembered his brash smile and strong arms—and the anger and guilt began to boil inside of her. How could he have used me like that? How could I have been so stupid as not to see what he really was? How could I have let him trick me into opening the door for Ma’el?

  “What are you thinking about?” Corwin asked. “I can sense the emotions flowing off you, but they’re spinning like the whirlpool—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she cut him off.

  “Oh.” Corwin’s mouth turned down at the corners, and his eyes filled with hurt.

  “There are things you don’t want me to see in your thoughts and feelings, aren’t there?” Nia asked.

  There was a hopeful lift to Corwin’s eyebrows. “I guess so.”

  “Why don’t we just focus on what we have to do next?”

  “But I—well, okay,” Corwin agreed.

  Nia could feel his curiosity, in his gaze and his thoughts. But she couldn’t let herself dwell on all the sadness she felt. “The ashes we’re tasting,” she said in a crisp tone, “come from the fumaroles beneath the city. There’s an enormous crack in the Earth, through which very hot water rises. Atlantis uses this water to heat the city and power its currents.” Nia realized she sounded like one of the instructors at the Academy, and she almost laughed at herself.

  “So will we be warmer, once we get inside?” Corwin asked.

  “Yes,” Nia said with a sigh. “If Ma’el has kept the works running.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “Why would he bother? He and Joab have the power to keep themselves warm and comfortable. Why run the machinery to do it? It would just be another nuisance to him.”

  “So if the works are running,” Corwin began, “that means there are other Atlanteans alive, Atlanteans Ma’el wants to keep alive.”

  Nia turned and gazed at Corwin. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “It would mean that.”

  “Then maybe we should look for clues that the works are running.” Corwin swam right up to the crystal dome and peered inside.

  Pulling Gobaith alongside of her, Nia swam up beside Corwin. She was afraid to look. She was afraid to see a dead city and know that it was all because of what she’d done.

  Bubbles flowed swiftly past them, inside the dome. “The rim current’s flowing!” Nia cried. “That means the works are operating, at least a little. That means at least some of my people are still alive!” She smiled at Corwin and hugged Gobaith, hope surging up inside her. Peering closer, Nia thought she saw a mermyd, wearing a white tunic, swimming past a nearby building, but the mermyd was gone from sight too soon.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t stay here,” Corwin suggested. “If one of Ma’el’s minions sees us, we could be in serious trouble.”

  “Yes. You’re right again,” Nia said, although it was hard to pull herself away from the view. With the bubbles forming a veil, she couldn’t clearly see whether there had been damage to the buildings. She could almost imagine that the city was still the same as it had been before Garun’s Naming ceremony and that she could just go home to the Bluefin Palace and forget everything that had happened. She felt Corwin’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Nia, we really should leave. Which way do we go again?”

  “Oh. Sorry. Of course. Um, I think it’s this way.” Actually, Nia wasn’t sure. But the city was circular, and eventually they would have to come to the filtration tubes no matter which way they went. She shifted Gobaith back to her hip. “Are you all right, Gobaith?”

  He blinked his enormous golden eyes sleepily at her. Getting better. The rest is helping. Wake me if you need me. His eyes closed again.

  As they swam alongside the dome, Corwin kept stealing glances at the city. “How can they build towers that high?”

  Nia frowned, confused by the question. “I don’t know, they just do. Things aren’t as . . . heavy underwater as they are on land. Maybe that’s why our buildings are taller. Or maybe Atlantis just knows more about it.”

  “The wisdom of the ancients,” Corwin said, almost reverently. “There must be so much your people know, so much they’ve seen, over time. I wish I could learn more about the city’s history.”

  Nia saw that hunger in his eyes again. She smiled. “They’re your people, too, you know. And we have places in the city, archives, where books and scrolls and other writings are preserved—containing knowledge about everything. After we defeat Ma’el, I’ll show them to you.”

  “I’d like that,” Corwin said. Then he frowned. “But your . . . I mean, Atlanteans speak a different language than I do. What am I going to do if I have to talk to someone?”

  Nia’s eyebrows raised. “The same thing I did when I came to Wales, I’m sure,” she replied. “Because of our—our bond, you should be able to understand anyone we speak to, and as I start thinking in Atlantean again, so will you, and you’ll learn my language. It’ll probably be awkward and strange at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

  “Oh.” Corwin grinned in embarrassment. “So there are some advantages to this mental bond thing after all.”

  “A few,” Nia said with a smile.

  “But that means we’ll be in each other’s heads more, and we’ll know each other’s thoughts and feelings more, won’t we?”

  “Um, yes, I guess so.”

  “Well, I can’t wait for that.”

  Nia couldn’t tell if he was being serious or making a joke. Or maybe both.

  The taste of ashes became stronger, and the water became a bit warmer. Nia knew they must be headed in the right direction. “We should be there soon.”

  “So, what exactly are we looking for?” Corwin asked. “I mean, I’ve never seen a filtration tube before.”

  “It should be a big, round door,” Nia said. “Actually I don’t know what it looks like on the outside. But I know I’ll recognize it when I see it.”

  “And . . . the other thing?”

  “If we’re lucky,” Nia added more softly, “it will be lying in the sand nearby.”

  “Could you . . . send me a mental image of it? So, you know, I won’t mistake some other sea garbage for it. It might save time.”

  Nia wanted to splash him, but that wasn’t possible since they were both already in the water. Still, she could understand why he’d be curious, and she couldn’t see why it would be a problem. She put her forehead against his and remembered Eikis Calli Werr as it had hung on Dyonis’s wall not so long ago—

  A long, tapering, silvery blade, inscribed and embellished with water symbols and its name in flowing Atlantean letters, near the guard at the base of the hilt. The hilt itself was wrapped in sharkskin and held the magical oculus. Nia could tell that Corwin was impressed with the weapon, that he could imagine himself wielding it. Remember, Nia thought at him, it was made to be a sword of peace. We have to be careful how we use it.

  “And if we don’t find it?” Corwin asked at last.

  Nia sighed as she drew away from him. “We’ve come all this way. I guess we’d have to do the be
st we can without it.”

  Corwin paused thoughtfully, staring at the seabed.

  Nia glanced beyond him and saw a large circular hole in the dome ahead. “Corwin—I think that’s the tube!” She swam to the opening and looked around. The big, round outer hatch to the tube lay on the sea floor, the hinges bent and broken. Peering inside, Nia saw that the piping along the roof of the tube was also bent. “Yes, I think this is it.”

  She circled around the fallen hatch, peering at the sand of the sea floor for the sword. In the dark of the deep sea, it was hard to see anything, even with her well-adapted eyes. She hoped there might be a reflection of the lights of Atlantis on the blade, if it had been thrown out of the tube. There was no sign of it. She gently jiggled Gobaith on her hip. “Gobaith. Gobaith, are you awake?”

  Hmmm? I am now. What is it?

  “We’re at the filtration tube.”

  She felt faint thoughts of fear and horror escape from the Farworlder. Gobaith shuddered a little on her hip, clearly remembering the fight in which Garun was killed, when Gobaith was just an infant. The bad place. We’re there already?

  “It took us a while to get here, but you were asleep. But now we need to look for . . . the you-know-what. Can you feel its presence nearby?”

  Gobaith blinked up sleepily at her. After a pause, he sent, No. I sense you and Corwin but no other oculus out here.

  “I suppose that would have been too easy,” Nia murmured. She swam back to the tube entrance. Corwin was just swimming into it. “Be careful.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this!” Corwin said. “There’s no mortaring—it’s as though this tunnel was carved from one stone.”

  “It’s a kind of poured, malleable stone,” Nia said, squinting as she tried to remember her Academy lessons. “Anyway, do you see . . . it in here?”

  “No.”

  “Gobaith doesn’t sense its presence either. If Ma’el found it first . . .” Nia felt a wave of despair wash over her.

  Don’t lose hope, Gobaith sent. Ma’el’s clearly not using the sword. We couldn’t have defeated his traps if he were.

  “Then where is it?”

  It might have been carried farther out to sea. Or someone else has found it and doesn’t know its power. Or Ma’el might have it in his possession but just isn’t using it.

  “That’s almost as bad, isn’t it?” Nia asked.

  You can’t give up hope, Gobaith urged again. That’s what Ma’el wants. We’ve only just begun to look for the sword.

  Nia swallowed hard. “You’re right, Gobaith. As long as I’m alive, I’ll keep trying.” She swam down the tube to Corwin, who had his hands on the long metal bar in the middle of the inner hatch. “How does this work?” he asked.

  Nia tried to remember what Cephan had done. “I think you have to turn it—the bar.”

  No. He won’t be able to open it.

  Corwin turned and looked at Gobaith. “Why not?”

  The pressure from the outside water will hold it closed.

  “Can we do a spell to hold back the pressure, like the spell that keeps the pressure off of us?” Corwin asked.

  We can only do one spell at a time, Gobaith sent. If we hold back the pressure in the tube, then we won’t need the spells on our bodies. But I don’t have very much strength right now. We will have to get through the door quickly before the spell fades and we’re crushed.

  “It’s worth the risk, isn’t it?” Nia asked.

  Corwin sighed, bubbles streaming from his mouth. “If I can’t open the door in time, being crushed against it doesn’t sound like a worthy end to our mission.”

  Nia considered the situation. “Gobaith, if we can make the pressure in our part of the tunnel just a little less than it is inside the dome, won’t that help Corwin open the door?”

  Possibly. If the door latch itself isn’t stuck. But if I gauge the spell wrong and the pressure is too low, the water from inside may push us outside the spell, causing us to be crushed anyway.

  “Just a little while ago, you were the one telling us not to give up hope, Gobaith!”

  Just letting you know the risk.

  Nia turned to Corwin. “Can you accept that risk?”

  “Do we have any better choices?”

  Nia paused. “I don’t know of any other way in.”

  “And it might take us hours to find one. During which time, Ma’el could find us. I say we’d better take the risk.”

  Nia nodded. “Have I told you lately how brave you are, Corwin?”

  “No,” Corwin replied with a grin, “but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me more often. I might just start to believe it.”

  Nia grinned back. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Corwin wrapped both his hands around the bar of the tunnel hatch. “Is there anything I can do?” Nia asked Gobaith.

  Just hold me up. This will all have to happen very quickly. Be prepared to move fast.

  “We will.”

  Corwin, be sure to swim back from the hatch as soon as it’s unlocked.

  Corwin nodded once to show that he understood and was ready. Nia held up Gobaith, his tentacles pointed toward the outer opening of the tube. He stretched out all ten of his tentacles until they radiated outward from his body in a circle. Nia could feel Gobaith pulling strength from her body, and she didn’t fight it.

  Suddenly a pulse of energy flowed from Gobaith’s tentacles. An energy wall—precisely the circumference of the tube—moved down along the tunnel, pushing back some of the water. Nia felt a weight come off of her that she’d barely been aware of. Gobaith held the wall about halfway down the tube. Now! Hurry!

  Corwin grunted as he spun the bar. There came a loud click. “I think I got—”

  The hatch slammed open, shoving Corwin into the side of the tube.

  “Corwin!” Nia cried.

  “I’m all right!” he answered. He pushed himself away from the side of the tube, rubbing the back of his head. Luckily, the hatch hadn’t pinned him against the wall.

  I can’t hold this much longer!

  “Nia, swim through!”

  “No, you first. I’ve got to hold Gobaith!”

  No, he’s right, Nia. We have to go out first and then he must close the hatch right behind us.

  There wasn’t time for questioning, so Nia swam out through the hatch opening, Gobaith still under her arm. The circular energy wall traveled forward with them. As they passed through the opening, Gobaith sent, Now, Corwin, start closing the hatch!

  Corwin tugged at the inner latch. “It won’t close! The pressure’s holding it open!”

  That will change as soon as I let go of the spell! Try to close the hatch just a little.

  Corwin tugged and tugged and kicked and kicked. Nia decided she had to do something. She extended her arm toward the hatch and used her summoning energy to pull on the hatch door. It was just enough to get the hatch angled back toward them—

  I’M BREAKING THE SPELL!

  “Corwin!”

  He let go of the door and arrowed through the tube opening just as the wall of denser water hit the hatch. It slammed shut again with a loud, echoing boom. Again Corwin was thrown across the passageway into the opposite wall. Nia thought she saw the hatch bulge outward for just a moment before it settled into place. Gobaith went limp in her arms.

  “Gobaith, are you okay?”

  But the Farworlder was asleep again.

  “Someone might ask if Corwin was okay, but I guess he’s not very important.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Corwin. Are you—?”

  “Yes, yes, I think so.” He rubbed his head and a tiny cloud of blood drifted into the water.

  “I think you’re hurt.” Nia swam over to him and raised her unoccupied hand to the side of his head.

  “Just a scratch,” Corwin grumbled. “But my head feels like a gourd that’s been used for a kick-ball.”

  “Oh, Corwin, I’m so sorry.” Nia let go of Gobaith, letting the Farworlder drift
, and she put both hands to Corwin’s head. She used a little bit more of her strength to take away his pain.

  “Mmmm, that’s better,” Corwin said. “But I think if we wanted to enter secretly, we’ve ruined that chance. We must have announced to the whole city that we’re here.”

  “Atlantis is a big city,” Nia said soothingly. “There are loud noises all the time. And if anyone decides to investigate, it’ll take them a while to get here. This area was deserted even before Ma’el.” Nia focused her energy on her fingertips and worked on sealing shut the cut on Corwin’s head. This put their faces very close together. Nia could feel the warmth radiating across his cheeks. Corwin’s eyes were such an interesting, mysterious gray. His lips were quite shapely. Nia wondered what it would feel like if she just moved a little closer and—

  Voices could be heard on the water. Mermyds were headed their way.

  Chapter Five

  Corwin cursed his luck. He’d been thinking about kissing Nia and had thought she might not mind. Now he was scanning the corridor, looking for a place to hide.

  “This way!” Nia said, tugging on his arm.

  “But—”

  “Shhh!”

  Corwin let Nia lead him, assuming she knew the area better than he did. But weren’t they swimming right into the mermyds they needed to hide from?

  Nia scooped up Gobaith and swam down the passageway so quickly that it was hard for Corwin to keep up. The passageway was like the filtration tube, smooth stone without joints or mortar. But moss was growing on the walls, and there were objects—tools, maybe—and bits of woven baskets littering the floor.

  Nia took a hard left turn and swam up an angling passageway. They came out at what looked like a marketplace. There were booths and stalls covered with thick, ropy fishnet that seemed to have been built from the planks of sunken ships. A broad tiller had become the top of a display table, and broken masts had become tent poles, with tattered sails used as tent cloth. Piles of baskets were heaped here and there, and Corwin wondered whether they belonged to the mermyd fishmonger women who would sing for customers to buy their catch. But the market was deserted and looked like it had been for a while.