Treasure of the Abyss

by Tiffany Roberts

  Jax gritted his teeth. The hunters usually met in the Mess, a large chamber in the main building that must’ve served as a gathering place for the humans of old. It was mostly cleared of debris and furniture, so he’d always assumed it had received its name because of its state immediately after the Uprising.

  He wasted no time reviewing his options; the main building was the best preserved, containing the largest amount of functioning human items. If any of the suits existed, they’d be there. He would simply have to move quietly and avoid the hallways around the Mess.

  Keeping out of the light as best he could, Jax swam to the main door, entered the sequence, and slipped inside. The Computer welcomed him after the water drained from the entry chamber.

  There were so many rooms; where best to start?

  Jax entered the first hallway cautiously. The overhead lights flickered in places, casting strange shadows on the walkway and walls, and the metal beneath his tentacles thrummed faintly. One of the hunters who’d raised Jax once told him it was the Facility’s heartbeat.

  As he advanced along the corridor, he slipped into the likeliest chambers. Many of them had been left in disarray after the Uprising, and years of disuse hadn’t been kind in the wake of such chaos. Some of the rooms held decrepit furniture — tables of varying heights and dimensions, many built directly into the walls; broken structures called chairs; containers of more shapes and sizes than Jax could count. All designed for human bodies.

  Other rooms harbored ancient machinery, humming and clanking in banged-up shells. He couldn’t guess the purpose of any of it, but if he opened the casings and examined the insides, he could describe them to Macy. Perhaps she would know…

  There was no time for such worries; the task at hand was already likely to keep him here far longer than he wished. He didn’t want to prolong his time away from Macy by chasing the whims of his curiosity.

  He pushed onward, rummaging through the containers he could open, delving as deep into his memory as he could for anything that might direct him to what he sought. He recognized some of the unknown objects as tools, but couldn’t imagine what they were meant for.

  The cruel humor of the situation became clear to Jax as he moved into the next hallway and began through a new set of rooms. Macy knew exactly what he was looking for, and likely bore insight into how the old humans might have stored such items. The most efficient way to locate the device would be to have Macy here to help in the search.

  But Jax couldn’t bring Macy to the Facility. The potential hostility with which the other kraken might greet her was unimportant beside the true issue; she wouldn’t survive the journey. He needed her here to locate the suit and mask, but he needed the suit and mask to bring her here.

  It was a strange path of thought for him; another new experience opened by Macy. Was his time with her changing him, or simply awakening things that had always been inside?

  The sound of a door closing deeper in the building echoed through the corridor. Jax darted into a side-chamber and pressed himself against the wall, hearts pounding.

  Voices drifted to him, too distorted by distance and reverberation for him to identify either the words or their speakers.

  He was skulking through the halls of his home like a tiny, helpless creature in a den of predators. He’d lived most of his life without allowing fear to control him. Why was he succumbing now? Why was he afraid?

  Because if the others learn about Macy, they may seek her out…but she is mine, and mine alone.

  It was for her protection; the others would not necessarily be persuaded toward mercy by their curiosity as he had been. Humans were the first and oldest enemies of the kraken. Without weapons, Macy was helpless — even the heat gun would be a poor defense if she were set upon by multiple foes.

  After a hurried search of the room, he forced himself back into the hall. He was driven to protect her, yes, but he knew his motivation was drawn as much from possessiveness. Jax had no desire to share her. Macy had given herself to him; the others had no right to so much as look upon her.

  After searching a third hallway and discovering nothing of use, he stopped. He hadn’t expected a quick, easy search, but this was taking too long. The fluttering in his gut urged him to return to Macy.

  How could he return without anything to show for the time away? Seeing disappointment on her face would crush him.

  But he’d have to shift his search to the other side of the building, soon, which would put him close to the Mess. Close to the other kraken.

  He closed his eyes and tore through his memory. What had he seen here over the years, and where? The suit and mask were meant to help humans survive underwater; if Jax were human, where would he keep such devices?

  Near the exits.

  Logical, yes, but he’d found nothing in the chambers nearest the main door save empty containers. If such equipment had once been stored there, it was moved or destroyed in the time since. There were two other such doors, but he would have to pass the Mess to reach either.

  Where else? He ran through the rooms in his mind, sorting them as best he could; there was a room for storing nothing but weaponry, many rooms meant as dwellings, rooms housing nothing but machinery…everything had a place, a purpose, even if he was unable to determine what that purpose was.

  There were a few rooms that contained only ghosts, and, in a couple of them, more chairs. One chamber held nothing but screens, displaying strange symbols none of the kraken understood.

  The Pool Room.

  He hurried through the halls toward the Pool Room; no one had ever agreed on why the humans had built it, but Jax knew now that humans could not survive underwater without the aid of special equipment. The ghosts often spoke of testing. Testing on kraken, testing on the glowing rocks…and testing on things with names that held no meaning to the kraken.

  Would they have tested their diving equipment, too? If the environment outside the Facility was too extreme for humans, wouldn’t it make sense for them to have a place where they could conduct their tests free of danger?

  It was a wild hunch, a stretch, but he had little else to act upon.

  Jax closed the door quietly behind him and crept to the edge of the pool. Arkon was nowhere in sight; Jax’s relief was followed by a pang of guilt. He couldn’t keep Macy secret forever, but he wasn’t ready to tell his friend, yet. Best to avoid the conversation for now.

  The overall pattern Arkon had created on the floor of the pool was little changed, but the refinements were clear — the earlier symmetry of the design was slightly off now, but it only added to the sense of movement created by the entire thing. Jax was even more impressed than he’d been initially.

  Another wave of guilt flowed through him when he realized he’d forgotten about the glowing centerpiece he’d promised.

  He crossed to the lockers on the far wall, and his heartbeats quickened; he’d seen the objects inside of them before and should have thought of them immediately when Macy described what she needed.

  Reaching into a locker, he removed the item hanging within. It was a black suit, like the other human clothing he’d found only in that it was clearly meant to cover a human body. A small human body…

  Raising the suit, he studied it. Macy wasn’t large — Camrin was easily the bigger of the two — but this suit appeared to be designed for someone half her size. The black material had a strange texture to it, and a faint hexagonal pattern over its entirety. Jax pinched it between his finger and thumb. It was oddly resistant despite its thinness.

  When he took it in both hands and pulled, the fabric stretched easily. It maintained its large size for a few heartbeats before reverting to its original shape. A sleek, white piece was attached at the wrist, and another on the chest. Jax wasn’t sure if they were metal or plastic, but neither came off when he tugged on them.

  He set the suit aside and resumed his search. Four lockers later, he found the other piece she’d mentioned. It was a thin, curved piece of glas
s with a metal frame. At the bottom corners were two attachments that reminded him of gills. The mask had no straps or fasteners of any kind; he didn’t know how she was meant to put the thing on, but this had to be it.

  The remaining lockers each held one of the suits, and he found six more masks. He moved back to consider them. There was no guarantee they’d all function properly; he’d be best served by taking them all. The devices were wasted hanging here, forgotten, especially when someone had use for them.

  Besides, Macy would never enter the Facility. No human would.

  Jax frowned.

  It didn’t feel right, taking all of them. Perhaps they’d never see use, like most items in the Facility, but this was where they belonged. They were as much ghosts as the holograms.

  He laid one of the suits on the floor, placed a second suit and two masks atop it, and tied it into a bundle around one of his tentacles to ensure it would be close during his journey to the cave. As he turned to leave, the door opened.

  There was nowhere — and no time — to hide; he was exposed. Straining for a natural way to begin a conversation with Arkon, he swung his attention to the doorway.

  Jax clenched his jaw. Arkon had not come.

  Dracchus halted just inside the room. His eyes met Jax’s, and he pushed up with his tentacles, raising himself high. He was slightly longer and broader than Jax, and heavily muscled; that struck fear into some of the others. Dracchus wasn’t hesitant to make use of his size and strength.

  They stared at one another, locked in a silent struggle for which Jax had no patience. Dracchus’s normally black skin had a crimson undertone.

  “You saw the signal outside.” Dracchus’s jaw muscles bulged as he rolled his shoulders. He looked over the room before settling his gaze back on Jax. “Where is your friend?”

  “Somewhere else, Dracchus. His den may be a good place to begin the search.”

  Brighter red seeped into Dracchus’s skin. “There is no time for these games, Wanderer. We mean to depart soon.”

  “Do not allow me to delay you.” Jax lifted his hand, palm up, and gestured to the door.

  Dracchus advanced. Jax rose up to meet him, holding his position.

  The challenge was clear in Dracchus’s posture, coloring, and expression; his directness had always been admirable. There were no secrets with him, no attempts at subtlety. He always made his feelings clear — as often through actions as through words.

  “We need our best out there, Wanderer. I will not deny you and Arkon your due as hunters.”

  “I’ve other matters to attend.” Jax’s hearts thumped rapidly, and heat rippled through his limbs; his body was preparing for a battle, and he didn’t resist.

  Eyes flaring, Dracchus moved closer, stopping just in front of Jax. “Do you mean to abandon our people entirely, now?”

  “I have not abandoned our people. But I will not swim with you on this hunt.”

  “Because you do not trust my judgment. Would you prefer to lead this hunt?”

  “You are hunt leader, Dracchus, and I will not challenge you for it. I have other concerns to occupy my time.” Jax’s muscles felt like coiled springs, near trembling with the need to expend the stored energy.

  Macy is likely asleep, by now. If I must take the time to remove Dracchus from my path, so be it…

  “You have a duty to the kraken, Wanderer. We hunt together, we thrive together, as it has always been.”

  “I ask for no share in your bounty. I will sustain myself during my absence.”

  But, if the suits worked, and Macy could travel safely underwater, what reason would Jax have to return — apart from Arkon?

  Dracchus narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over the room again. “If Arkon is not here, why are you in this chamber?”

  “For the same reason you’ve come.”

  “Did you not say his den would be the best place to search?”

  “Now that I know he is not here.”

  The air between them buzzed with tension; Dracchus was just as on-edge as Jax, just as ready to act. This rivalry between them had started many years ago. Jax had been tired of it since the beginning.

  Dracchus leaned close, nostrils flaring. Confusion skittered across his features. “There is an odd scent on you, Wanderer.”

  Macy. Jax’s skin tingled with the remembrance of their contact.

  “There are many scents in the ocean unfamiliar to you, Dracchus, because you do not venture beyond the hunting grounds.”

  “You owe this duty to your people, Wanderer. We all do. Gather with the others in the Mess.”

  Jax leaned in and locked his gaze with Dracchus’s. It would be simple to initiate a brawl. Despite both kraken anticipating it, Jax was just a little faster, and the first strike could be the one to turn the tide in his favor. “No.”

  The cords on Dracchus’s neck stood out. “You betray us. Face my challenge, Wanderer, before our people. It is time you were made to answer to your selfishness.”

  A formal challenge; it meant witnesses, a gathering outside, and the intricate, delicate motions of the dance. And it would end in physical combat because neither would back down. Dracchus wanted to best Jax before a crowd because no one would quite take his word if he claimed to have defeated Jax without anyone to support his claim.

  “I refuse your challenge, Dracchus. Our people need food more than they need entertainment.” Jax moved around Dracchus and toward the door. “You need your strength for the hunt.”

  Dracchus remained in place, shoulders rising and falling with his deep breaths, bristling with anger. “The things you could accomplish, Wanderer, if you cared…”

  Jax pushed through the door, dropping a hand to ensure the bundle was still secure. He cared deeply about the kraken, despite the way they’d treated him and Arkon over the years, but they would survive, whether he helped or not, just as they always had.

  Macy needed his aid, and he was beginning to suspect he needed her just as much.

  Chapter 10

  It was still mostly dark when Macy opened her eyes. She wasn’t sure what had woken her — a noise, perhaps, or a dream already faded from memory — but she knew instinctively that she wasn’t alone. She turned her head to see Jax nearby.

  He lay on his stomach, arms folded under his cheek, breath slow and deep in his slumber. One tentacle was stretched toward her, its tip only centimeters away.

  Macy rolled onto her side and cradled her head in the crook of her arm. This was the first time she’d seen him sleep. He always seemed to be awake and doing something, so she hadn’t been sure if kraken slept or not. It reminded her of an old conversation with her father.

  They’d been out on the water, riding the waves in his boat, when Breckett had insisted to seven-year-old Macy that fish slept. She hadn’t been able to hide her skepticism — how could anything sleep, with water in its eyes? — and demanded to know how he was so sure. Even at that age, she knew his response — because I just know — was grown-up talk that really meant I don’t know, but I’m right so be quiet.

  Macy smiled sadly. She missed those days. Missed her family and friends, but this was for the best — for both Macy and the kraken.

  With his face relaxed in sleep, Jax appeared more human; it was likely because his unusual pupils were concealed.

  Her gaze settled on his lips. She touched her fingers to her own, and — not for the first time — wondered what kissing him would feel like. Not a peck on the cheek, but a kiss, like Camrin had given her on the dock. She’d longed for Camrin’s kiss to end; from Jax, she yearned for more.

  Macy’s eyes continued their slow trek over his body; first over the well-defined muscles of his shoulders, back, and arms, and then down to his inhuman lower half. His skin darkened below his waist, but the stripes that ran along his tentacles — the same pattern from his head and shoulders — were clear in the gloom.

  Though it was difficult to distinguish one tentacle from the next in the dim light, she knew them
well from their days together. They were thick at their tops, tapering gradually to narrow tips. She followed the flow of the one he’d stretched toward her. It was twisted slightly, exposing the lighter, suction-cup-lined skin on its underside.

  Had he reached out to her before or after he fell asleep?

  She moved a hand toward his tentacle, stopping only to watch his face and ensure he was still asleep. Lightly, she touched her finger to the skin on his tentacle’s underside, running it along the edges of his suction cups. His flesh was different there. Softer.

  The tentacle twitched, its end curling.

  Macy grinned. He was ticklish.

  With another glance to make sure he hadn’t woken, she slid her finger around the rim of a suction cup. It twitched. She released a muffled laugh.

  “Macy?”

  She yanked her hand back and met his gaze. Jax had lifted his head and propped himself up on an arm, pupils large. She tried — and failed — to keep the amusement from her face.

  “Good morning,” she said, biting the inside of her lip curtail her smile.

  Jax furrowed his brow and twisted to look up at the opening; the sky displayed on the earliest gray of approaching dawn. When he turned back to her, the end of his tentacle flicked back and forth. “That felt strange. What were you doing?”

  “I wasn’t doing anything.”

  “I felt your touch. Tasted your skin.”

  “You what?”

  “Tasted you. Or smelled…perhaps both. They are the same, in many ways.”

  “You can taste with those?” She pointed at his tentacle.

  His eyes followed her gesture, and a smile — as amused as hers had been a moment before — spread across his lips. He shifted his position, torso upright but tentacles coiled beneath him. “With the cups, yes.”

  Macy immediately thought of their first encounter, how his tentacle had slithered up between her legs, brushing her inner thigh…

  She’d been shocked, then, just as she was now, but the memory kindled something more. Fire blazed in her core. Macy pressed her knees together, suddenly aware of just how short her dress was.