by Kara Dalkey
“What choice do we have?” Nia asked.
They swam into a much more brightly lit corridor in which many mermyds came and went. Nia kept her head down, trying to copy the expressions of fear and exhaustion that were on the other mermyds’ faces. She didn’t look too closely at anyone, afraid she might recognize someone and give herself away.
A gate loomed ahead, but it stood open to allow the streams of mermyds to move through. There was an Orca guard beside it, but he looked bored and made no effort to stop anyone. The three of them easily swam through the gate and into Ma’el’s stronghold.
Whatever Nia had been expecting, this wasn’t it. The gate opened up into a huge room with water much warmer than that in the rest of Atlantis, and light much brighter. It was like the tide-pool garden that her father Dyonis had tended, only on a much grander scale. There were anemones in wild colors and sea ferns and living coral. There were bright-colored fish darting in and out of artfully sculpted rocks. The floor wasn’t finished paving-stone, but instead the rough rock of the seabed itself.
“Lord Ma’el wants us to get used to living closer to the surface,” Eldoris explained. “He’s even told Atlanteans that he’s going to insist on long-term dry-room living for everyone, especially children, so that we’ll be ready when Atlantis again rises to the top of the sea.”
How nice, Nia thought darkly. Ma’el’s going to make Atlanteans suffer for his grandiose plans. She was sure he hadn’t asked the populace of Atlantis for their vote on the matter.
Eldoris led them off to the right, away from the gardens and toward a barer, emptier part of the great compound.
“Can you show us where the sword is?” Nia asked softly.
“Yes,” Eldoris whispered back. “Follow me closely.”
The water began to taste more minerally, and Nia knew they were getting close to the rift vents. The passageways they entered were similar to those near the filtration tubes, except more mermyds swam by. Nia had the feeling they were getting closer to the control area of the works themselves, closer to where Ma’el might be. But she didn’t risk saying anything to Eldoris, in case they’d be overheard.
“Here,” Eldoris finally said. They had come to a tall door with a scallop-shaped knob. Eldoris waited until there were no mermyds nearby and then opened the door. “Go in. Quickly.”
Nia and Corwin swam in. Is it here? Gobaith asked from the basket. I feel a vague presence.
Wait while we look around. Nia let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light in the storage room. It was filled with stacks of rich furnishings, tables of ebony, ivory tusks and animal horns, clamshell chairs, land-dweller statues from sunken ships, piles of gold land-dweller coins, sealed jars containing wine and dates and who-knew-what from long ago and far away.
“I’ve never seen wealth like this,” Corwin said in awe.
“And it’s all useless here,” Nia said. “Although I guess Ma’el thinks it will help him for trade once Atlantis surfaces.”
“Look, swords!”
Nia followed Corwin’s pointing hand. Beside the wall to their right was a heap of scattered swords and shields.
“But those are from a land-dweller ship, Corwin.”
“Yes, but where better to hide a special sword than in plain sight?” Nia stared back at him in confusion. “Oh, right—you’ve never had to hide any stol—um, any misplaced items. Just trust me on this, okay?”
Nia sighed and swam to the pile of weaponry. Taking up one short sword in hand, Nia poked through the pile.
Can you sense it? Gobaith asked.
Nia did sense a curious itching in the back of her mind. She relaxed and closed her eyes, letting her hands dig wherever they felt guided to.
There it is!
Nia opened her eyes. And then she saw part of the hilt gleaming brighter than the other swords, sticking out from the pile. She carefully lifted off the weapons that lay on top of it. Eikis Calli Werr, its silvery blade shimmering, a faint glow coming from the hilt where the oculus lay. “I had forgotten how beautiful you are,” Nia said softly. She reached out to grasp it.
There was a discreet cough at the door.
“Just a little longer, Eldoris,” Nia said. And then she turned. It wasn’t Eldoris.
A tall, thin mermyd hovered at the door, his narrow black fish tail twitching. “May I ask what you two are doing in here?” he said officiously.
Nia vaguely remembered him as being of the Remora clan. Remoras were known for their service and discretion. Of course Ma’el would want them working for him. As humbly as possible, Nia replied, “We were ordered to tidy this room up, sir. We meant no trouble.”
The Remora’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall seeing either of you before. You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, we’re new.” Nia bobbed her head, and Corwin followed her lead.
The Remora sighed. “No one tells me anything. Very well, come with me.”
“But—but we haven’t finished our task, sir.”
“You may come back to it later. My orders are to bring all new hires to the central office for inspection and orientation. It was Eldoris who brought you in?”
Nia’s heart thudded and she swallowed hard. She didn’t want to betray her fellow rebel who’d already risked so much.
Say yes, Gobaith advised her. It’s the answer he is expecting.
With a heavy heart, Nia said, “Yes. It was Eldoris.”
“Fine,” said the Remora. “She will be given proper credit for her recruitment. Follow me.”
Nia blinked. Feeling just a little relieved, she lowered her head and folded her hands in an attitude of servitude. Corwin did the same, but Nia could see in his eyes that he resented it. They both followed meekly after the Remora.
“Where are we going?” Corwin asked in his language.
“To someplace where we’ll be officially enrolled as workers, I guess. It could be useful for our disguise.”
“What about . . . the you-know-what?”
“We’ll come back for it later. Now shhh.”
The Remora looked back over his shoulder at them. “Why is that fellow speaking gibberish?”
Nia winced. “It’s a childhood language we spoke when we were small. My brother’s anxious at being in the great Lord Ma’el’s household. It soothes him to speak in our old code, that’s all.”
The Remora rolled his eyes. “Well, we are all different, I suppose.”
Nia blew out through her gills in relief.
The Remora continued to lead them deeper among the works. Huge pipes lined the walls and ceilings of the corridors, and the water throbbed with the power of the engines that drove the circulatory system of the city. Finally, he opened a circular hatch, much like the hatch on the filtration tube. “In here,” he instructed.
Nia and Corwin swam inside.
The hatch boomed shut behind them.
A huge brass pillar rose in the center of the room. Knobs and levers stuck out from it, making it appear like a mutated tree. Then out from behind the pillar swam a bizarre-looking mermyd. His arms and torso were covered with a bony plate armor, like fish scales of enormous size. He had two short, muscular legs, as well as a fish tail sticking out from his lower back. His face was hidden behind a mask made from a king crab’s carapace. And then he spoke.
“Welcome, my friends! I’m so glad you made it here at last!”
It was Ma’el.
Chapter Nine
“We were betrayed,” Corwin said, balling his fists.
“Oh, don’t blame sweet Eldoris,” Ma’el said. “She just knows where her best interests lie. If Eldoris has any hope of keeping the Skate bloodline intact, then she has to stay alive by any means necessary. Even if it means spying for me in a dry room and escorting the ‘last Avatars of Atlantis’ into my custody.”
Nia said nothing, only glared at Ma’el.
“So overwhelmed you can’t speak? I guess I don’t blame you.”
It worked once, why not agai
n? Corwin thought. He launched himself at Ma’el and began to beat upon the mermyd’s arms where he remembered the oculae lay.
Ma’el merely stood there and laughed. “Corwin, do you really think I wouldn’t learn from my defeats? This armor I’ve grown protects me quite well, don’t you think?”
Ma’el delivered a powerful punch to Corwin’s middle, driving him back and knocking the air out of him.
Nia raised her arms as if to attempt a spell. She managed to summon energy into her hands, but shrieked as Ma’el lifted his own hands. The water around Nia boiled and she waved her scalded arms and hands frantically.
Corwin tried to contact Gobaith, but the Farworlder wasn’t responding. “Stop hurting her!” he cried at last.
“Of course. I only wished to keep the young lady from doing something she would regret.”
The water cooled noticeably and Nia backed away, hugging herself and still glaring at Ma’el.
“Be aware, my young friends, that you are in my territory now. I have all the advantage here. So I suggest that you behave yourselves.”
“Where’s your partner in evil, Joab?” Corwin asked, when he could speak again, as he tried to think of what to do.
“Right behind you,” Ma’el said coolly.
Corwin whipped around to see the enormous, mottled, dark purple Farworlder. The huge golden eyes stared with malevolent glee at him. Corwin was certain that if Farworlders could smile, Joab would be grinning from eye to eye.
Corwin was about to try to swim away when Joab’s tentacles wrapped around his chest and arms. One tentacle slithered around Corwin’s neck, holding his gills shut. Up close, Joab seemed even bigger than he’d been at Castle Carmarthen.
I can’t breathe! Corwin thought as he struggled hard to get free. But Joab’s limbs were like iron bands: immovable.
“No!” Nia cried.
“Stay calm,” Ma’el told her. “I’m not going to kill your friend. He has something I need, after all. As do you.”
Corwin felt the tentacle around his neck loosen ever so slightly, just enough so that Corwin could pull some water in through his gills. Even so, spots were beginning to form before his eyes and he felt faint.
“Gobaith! Wake up!” Nia yelled, shaking the basket.
“I’m afraid your little charge is incapable of hearing you,” Ma’el said. “His mind is wrapped up in a little pocket of the unis, from which it can’t escape. Not without our help. Did you think the obstacles I set for you were just for show? Joab and I learned very particularly what all of your strengths and weaknesses are, the three of you. We’re very impressed. For such a young Farworlder, Gobaith’s skills and talent are highly developed. But he’s still very young. I’m sure we will be able to tease Gobaith’s secrets out of him with no trouble. Before we kill him and take his oculus. Unless, of course . . . you three would like to pledge fealty to me?”
Corwin was beginning to think that might not be a bad idea, as a delaying tactic at least.
“Never,” Nia said.
So much for that, Corwin thought. We’re as good as dead.
“Unfortunately, that’s what I expected,” Ma’el said, sounding genuinely upset. “I really didn’t want things to turn out like this for us, Nia. But, you know, it’s easy to be courageous in comfort. I’ll give you a little more time to think—in less pleasant surroundings. You too, young land-dweller.”
Joab began to swim toward the hatch door, with the bound-up Corwin in tow. Corwin struggled again, but a tightening of the tentacle around his neck reminded him to behave. Corwin decided to just relax so that he could think.
As the door opened and Joab headed out, Corwin waved the one hand that could move a little at Nia, realizing with a pang that it might be the last time he’d see her. He thought he heard her faint thoughts in his mind, Be brave. I love you.
Fears of torment were banished for a moment as the door slammed shut behind them. Did she just say what I think she said?
Too bad it didn’t look like he’d have a chance to ask her. He could feel the aura of Joab’s dark thoughts surrounding him, smothering him, making telepathy impossible with either Nia or Gobaith. Corwin felt as though his soul were being coated with slime. And I thought King Vortigern and his son were as bad as evil got. They were just stinging ants compared to this creature. Now if he and Ma’el are joined, which of them is the greater evil? Was Ma’el decent before Joab got ahold of his mind? Why do I even care? Does it matter?
Corwin was carried to a wall made up of little cells, sort of like a honeycomb. With one tentacle, Joab opened the grate that covered one of the cells. Then the Farworlder tightened the tentacle around Corwin’s neck.
Hey! Hey! You weren’t supposed to kill me yet! Corwin thought desperately until the spots again appeared before his eyes and his body went limp. Just as he knew he was about to black out, Joab flung him into the cell and slammed the grate shut. Blowing air out of his siphons with a chuff-chuff-chuff sound that greatly resembled gloating laughter, Joab swam away.
Corwin lay curled up in his cell, dragging water through his gills and sucking out what oxygen he could. I wonder if Ma’el keeps this water stale just so his prisoners will stay weak. His head swimming from the effort of breathing, Corwin drifted off to sleep, exhausted.
When he woke up, Corwin had no idea how much time had passed. He was vaguely hungry. He reached out with his mind to Nia, but couldn’t find her. He tried Gobaith too, but was again blocked.
I spent so much time wishing Gobaith and Nia weren’t connected to my thoughts, Corwin mused, and now they’re not, and it’s the worst loneliness I’ve ever felt, like part of myself has been cut away.
Nia said she loved me, he reminded himself. But with a pang of sorrow, he realized that nothing might ever come of that. His life might end within this tiny cell. Its gray stone walls might be the last thing that he saw. It all seemed so unfair.
What’s Ma’el waiting for, anyway? Corwin wondered. Why doesn’t he just kill us and get it over with?
Corwin rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position to curl up in. He tried several and they were all equally awkward. He settled for lying on his right side, knees up to his chest. He stared out through the grate enclosing his cell. All he could see was a gray stone wall on the opposite side of the corridor. There were little bits of shell embedded in the stone. If you gazed at them long enough, they could form patterns like the stars in the night sky.
I wouldn’t want to be a king, Corwin thought, his mind wandering. All that false adulation and the need to make life-and-death decisions every day. I wouldn’t mind advising a king, though. Trying to help a king be sensible about power. Maybe I should have taken that offer by Vortigern’s wizards to become one of them. Corwin thought a little more. No. Vortigern would have just become upset with me when I couldn’t find the enemies he wanted. Some kings you just can’t talk sense into.
Corwin rolled over again to face the far wall of his cell. Maybe you have to start with a prince. The sneering face of Prince Vortimer came to mind. A young prince. One that hasn’t been corrupted by the Vortigerns and the Fenwycks of this world. Someone who knows instinctively that if you use power wisely, you can have . . . well, a place like Atlantis used to be. Prosperous and at peace. Of course, you’d have to have soldiers in a land-dweller kingdom. Because there are all those other land-dweller kingdoms that will circle like wolves and attack if they see you’ve got more wealth than they do. So you’d need knights. But you’d want to pick them carefully. Take the ones who believe in your cause, and wouldn’t betray you.
Corwin sighed. Why am I even thinking about all this? It’ll never happen. I’ll be lucky if I live until tomorrow.
A hooded servant in a white tunic appeared at the grate and pushed a folded piece of cloth under it. “Your meal.” Then the servant hurried away.
“Hey! Hey!” Corwin called, but the servant didn’t come back. Corwin unfolded the cloth and found only bits of crabmeat with seaweed wrapped a
round it. I don’t even know if this is a gourmet meal for an Atlantean, or food for the lowest of the low. But Corwin ate it, trying to remind himself that it might be the last meal he ever ate. It didn’t make the fishy, salty morsels any better. He wished even more that Gobaith could be in his mind, to tell him just how wonderful this should taste.
After eating, Corwin grew tired again, and he drifted back to sleep. He woke up and almost immediately wondered why he was still alive. What did Ma’el have planned for him?
A hooded servant again appeared at the grate and pushed a folded piece of cloth under it. “Your meal.”
Already? That seemed fast, even though he wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been napping.
He figured the servant would rush off again, but surprisingly, she didn’t. Instead, she stepped closer and pulled back her hood. It was Callimar.
“Calli—”
“Shhh!” Callimar looked all around her, then pressed her face against the grate. “If we hurry, I can take you to Nia.”
“Is she all right?”
“No time to talk.” Callimar unlocked the grate to his cell and opened it, beckoning him to come out. He slipped out of the cell as fast as he could.
I don’t know if I can trust this creature, he thought. But I’m better off free than caged. I hope.
Callimar gave him a hood to put over his head, like hers, and Corwin did so. Then she beckoned to him again and he followed. They went down the long corridor of cells, through a door, into another corridor. But the cells along this wall were different. They had hatch seals instead of grates. Callimar went to one and turned the wheel to open it. Nia was lying inside, pale and not moving.
Nia became vaguely aware of shapes moving around her. “No, Ma’el. I won’t join you,” she muttered. “No, Joab. Get out of my mind.” But the pain didn’t come, as it had before. There was no torment wracking her body. Only a tapping on her cheek. Someone was saying her name over and over again. It was like the cry of that strange bird, Nag, that had followed Corwin around.
The water surged beside her. Her gills fluttered: she could feel them moving. Faces wavered before her. One looked like Corwin. The other looked like . . . Callimar? No, no, this must be an illusion—I’m being tricked again. Nia tried to push them away.