by Raymond Cain
Tasker managed to catch his breath and reload Stingray before his attacker reached him. He fired a quick shot, striking the azuran in the chest, but not in a spot critical enough to kill the man. The azuran staggered back and removed the bolt, releasing a stream of blood into his chain mail links. The man pressed a hand against the wound and winced, then resumed his march toward Tasker.
Flynn’s adversary had the area around his eyes tattooed black, and teeth tattooed over his lips to make his face resemble a human skull. The man hefted a spiked mace and performed a series of horizontal swings followed by a forward thrust that nearly smashed Flynn in the head. The azuran was larger and more skilled than Flynn was, forcing him to deflect the blows rather than block them. The skilled warrior sent Flynn backing up until he met the wall. He deflected one of the attacks with the rapier’s caged hilt and delivered a horizontal slash that sliced a minor wound in the azuran’s shoulder, sending the man back a step.
The red-haired woman connected her two staves into one long staff and used it to block her two opponents’ attacks simultaneously. She swept the feet out from one of her combatants, sending him to the floor, and thrust one end of her staff into the other azuran’s face, stunning him. She separated her staves and struck her stunned foe eight times before he struck the floor.
The man was dead after the third one.
Her prone combatant got back to his feet and lunged at her with his sword. She swept it aside with one stave and smashed the azuran in the face with the other, flattening his nose against his face. His eyes rolled upward and she smashed his temples with her staves, crushing his skull.
There were two azuran foes remaining, the ones facing Flynn and Tasker. The fiery-haired woman hurled a stave at Flynn’s foe, striking him in the side of the head. The azuran reeled and Flynn lunged forward, slipping his rapier through his foe’s ribs and killing him. She hurled the other stave at Tasker’s opponent, striking him in the head and dizzying him long enough for Tasker to reload Stingray and fire another bolt into the man’s chest. Both azurans clutched their chest wounds and collapsed, dead.
The fiery-haired girl summoned her staves back to her hands and regarded Flynn and Tasker with an icy glare. For a moment, it appeared she would continue where they left off before the azurans entered the room, but she slid her staves into metal clips built into the legs of her armor and folded her arms.
“It appears we have common enemies,” she said, her voice as cold as the ice that once held her. “For the time being, I propose a truce.”
Flynn’s face ached where she’d struck him. He despised the woman but as much as it pained him to admit it, it appeared that he and Tasker were no match for her. “My name is Flynn.”
Tasker loaded another bolt into Stingray and had a childlike look of fascination on his face as he stared at the woman. “I’m Tasker.”
“Kylara,” she replied, looking down at the rapidly melting ice chunks on the floor. “How long was I frozen?”
“Five centuries or so,” Flynn said in a conversational tone. After rescuing her and getting attacked for it, he had little interest in breaking the news to her gently.
Initially, Kylara seemed to accept the news without alarm, but an instant later her eyes widened with panic. “Did you thaw anyone else?”
“No,” Tasker replied, and Kylara let out a relieved sigh.
“Anyway,” Flynn said, impatiently. “Enough chatting. We need to get out of here before more azurans come.”
The other two nodded and Flynn was the first through the door, marching quickly up the hallway. As they headed for the portal, he feared azurans may have found their ships parked outside and taken them. He let out a deep breath when he found the Searunners floating outside the opening, unharmed.
“Taking her is a bad idea,” Flynn said, earning himself an ice-cold glare from Kylara.
Tasker hesitated before replying, as though considering the words. “She’s no friend to the azurans. She’s one of us, relatively speaking.”
Flynn locked his gaze on her and their green eyes bored into each other. “She can ride with me.”
Tasker nodded. “She’ll get crushed without swimming boots. I’ll enter my ship and remove my boots for you to bring back to her.”
“Thank you,” Kylara said, nodding appreciatively to Tasker then glaring at Flynn.
After facilitating the exchange of swimming boots, Flynn led Kylara into the water. The dark creatures were held at bay by the crystals’ light and he looked back to see how she was doing. Her facial expression was neutral but he could see fear behind her eyes. It was understandable, entering the depths for the first time while being surrounded by ghastly forms reaching out to kill you brought Flynn a great deal of unease when he did it the first time as well.
After opening the hatch doors, Kylara squeezed in behind the pilot’s chair. Flynn plunged down, sending ripples through the liquid chair, and immediately started the jets. Kylara was still shifting around in the back, trying to get comfortable, when he shoved the acceleration lever forward and pushed his way through the throng of creatures in The Abyss. Metallic claws scraped against the hull and in moments, they burst out of the throng of creatures and entered open water. He let out a breath, but his relief was short-lived after considering he was still in danger from the woman behind him.
“Just so you know, if you kill me we’ll both die,” Flynn said, accentuating his point by gesturing at the creatures below and the dangerous terrain around them.
Kylara snorted. “If I had wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Flynn clenched his jaw. The woman’s arrogance was insufferable. He yearned for the chance to teach her a lesson but, judging by her skills, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
The two vessels crossed the fissure and passed over tube sponge and bloodflower that flourished on the other side. A pair of rakun, twenty-foot-long reptiles with scaly hides, shook glowing red petals from the bloodflower as they nuzzled for food. A giant octopus released its camouflage when the rakuns came near and swam out of their reach, its tentacles waving threateningly.
The octopus swam into the path of the two Searunners, forcing Flynn to bank to one side. With no water belts to hold her in place, Kylara thudded against the inner hull. The two ships arched around the deadly creature, narrowly avoiding getting caught by its tentacles. The rakuns turned away from the creature and scoured for food elsewhere.
Once they were out of danger, Flynn glanced over his shoulder at his passenger. She wore a wide-eyed look of fascination as she watched all the marine life and vegetation go by. Her spellbound expression nearly made Flynn forget that she’d nearly killed him and Tasker minutes earlier, and likely would have if the azuran soldiers hadn’t attacked them. It was ironic to think that he and Tasker owed their lives to a group of murderous azurans.
After hours of cruising over rolling terrain blanketed in glowing, multicolored vegetation, Seahaven’s dome came into view. Flynn and Tasker switched off their ships’ glow and arched around the city toward their hidden entrance. Flynn was the first into the tunnel but the nose of his brother’s ship broke the surface only a moment after Flynn’s Searunner did.
Somehow, Tasker exited his ship before Flynn did and was already on the edge of the pool when Flynn’s hatch doors opened. As he stepped out, Tasker held out his hand to assist Kylara—an unheard of gesture for the antisocial genius. Kylara accepted it, all the while aiming a mischievous grin Flynn’s way. Something about her smile reminded him of the way a certain mermaid taunted him months earlier.
“Is there anything I can get you?” Tasker asked, holding out his hand and earning himself an eyeroll from Flynn.
“A bath,” Kylara said, smiling. “Apparently, I haven’t had one in five hundred years.”
Flynn snorted. “The two of you have something in common, then.”
Tasker and Kylara glared at him but Flynn paid them no mind. His aching jaw was stiffening, a strong remi
nder of his battle with Kylara. He opened the door leading into Tasker’s laboratory and repeatedly opened his jaw as wide as it would go to prevent it from stiffening further.
Tasker seemed embarrassed by the stone tables covered with tools, metal, and crystal. The three of them stepped over hunks of scrap metal were littered across the floor and quickly tidied a few items here and there as if that would take care of the mess. Tasker glanced at Kylara, blushed, and scooped some of the items under the tables with his foot.
“You know you can get your golems to clean up after you, right?” Flynn said, taking pleasure in his brother’s rare moment of embarrassment.
“I’m sorry for the mess. Nobody ever comes down here,” Tasker said, staring dreamily at Kylara. Then, after glancing at Flynn’s scowling face, he added, “Nobody who matters, I mean.”
Flynn gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything.
“It’s absolutely fine,” Kylara said, smiling. “I’m no princess, and I’ll take a dirty work environment over lavish décor any day.”
Kylara’s words sounded insincere to Flynn but a hint of crimson touched Tasker’s cheeks. A strand of black hair fell over Tasker’s face and he brushed it back, inadvertently leaving a smear of grease on his forehead in the process. The engineer’s seeming defenselessness against Kylara’s charms was both comical and concerning to Flynn, but he had to admit, the woman’s leather armor hugged her curves like a second skin and her figure could make a mermaid green with envy. As they talked, Flynn felt a pang of jealousy and hated himself for it.
“You know she just beat you up, right?” Flynn said, scowling at his brother.
“Minor blows,” Tasker said, rubbing his stomach and wincing slightly. “She could have done much worse to us if she’d wanted to really hurt us.”
Flynn rubbed his swollen cheek, where Kylara’s struck him. “Good thing she didn’t want to hurt us.”
“Let me show you something,” Tasker said, ignoring his brother and staring excitedly at Kylara. “I’m quite proud of it, actually.”
They approached Tasker’s aquarium and the comb jellies within shimmered in hues of red, blue, and purple. Bright red dottybacks and dwarf angelfish cast a fiery glow that was contrasted by a pair of bright blue damselfish. Some fish burrowed into the dirt, unaware that their glow gave their hiding spots away. Far better at hiding was a cuttlefish that camouflaged itself as one of the dark rocks in the sand.
“It’s incredible,” Kylara said, drawing another smile from Tasker. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“And that’s not all,” Tasker added, his enthusiasm building. With a wave of his hand, three hip-high globules of water oozed out of the aquarium and rolled along the floor toward them. The blobs tackled them behind the legs and caught them as they fell. The water changed shape into liquid chairs that molded to fit their contours.
“Amazing,” Kylara said, reclining and shifting side-to-side in her liquid chair. No matter her body position, the chair provided complete support.
Next to her, Flynn struggled to sit up from his own reclining position. He began to think Tasker intentionally made his chair more difficult to use but after a couple grunts and groans, he was sitting up like Kylara was. His brother was staring blankly at him and the edges of Tasker’s mouth quivered, as though stifling a smile.
ZAP!
A painful jolt struck Flynn in the backside and he leapt to his feet, nearly toppling into his brother. He drew his sword and stared incredulously at the liquid chair, then at Tasker, and then back at the chair. It appeared to be empty water at first but a tiny ball of electrical energy flared, revealing a round, transparent fish floating directly below the spot where Flynn’s was sitting.
“A lightning fish!” Flynn said, glaring at his brother.
“Goodness!” Tasker said in a mocking tone. “How did that get in there?”
“I wonder,” Flynn said, approaching it menacingly with his sword. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
With a flick of a wrist, Tasker sent the water chair rolling back into the aquarium. Flynn ran after it but as soon as it re-entered the water, he couldn’t see the lightning fish anymore. Evidently, it was smart enough to not reveal its presence again.
Rubbing his backside, Flynn sheathed his sword and leaned against a worktable. Kylara was doing a poor job of stifling a smile and Tasker was struggling to keep a straight face. They held their composure for only a few seconds until they both burst out laughing. Flynn scowled at them but after a few moments, he laughed with them.
Tasker looked seriously at Kylara. “Can you tell me what happened in Deepstone? Why were you frozen?”
Kylara looked down at her hands and fidgeted. “I realize that I owe you an explanation. Far more than an explanation, in fact. And I’m very grateful for what you did for me today. But I have a lot of things to process and I was hoping we could have this conversation later.”
“Why?” Tasker asked.
Flynn shook his head at his brother. The man was so smart about some things, and so oblivious about others. “Maybe it’s because she just found out everyone she knows and loves died five hundred years ago.”
“Very delicately put, Flynn,” Kylara replied, scowling.
“You’re the one who said you’re not a princess,” he replied, rubbing his swollen face. “I didn’t think I needed to spare your feelings.”
“I guess I deserved that,” Kylara replied. “The events in Deepstone are distant to you, but to me they happened yesterday.”
Tasker’s chair created armrests for his elbows and he steepled his fingers together, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Perhaps you could answer a different question, then. One that doesn’t pertain directly to yourself.”
“Okay,” she replied, hesitantly.
“Earlier, you asked if we freed any others from the ice. How many more were frozen like you?”
Kylara returned her gaze to her hands. Her fidgeting increased. “One.”
Tasker sighed. “I guess we’ll have to head back to rescue. . . .”
“NO!” Kylara shouted, bolting forward in her chair. She cleared her throat and settled back, letting the water cradle her. When she spoke again, it was in a more relaxed tone, but it sounded forced. “I mean no, that won’t be necessary.”
“Who’s back there?” Flynn asked, suddenly curious.
Kylara chewed her lip and paused before answering. “Gideon,” she replied. “The one who trained me.”
Tasker grasped his chin between his thumbs and looked hard at Kylara. “Surely, he’s expecting you to rescue him.”
“I don’t think so,” Kylara replied, avoiding his gaze.
Tasker tilted his head, curiously. “Why?”
“Because the last time I saw him, I tried to kill him.”
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Flynn’s jaw ached worse than it did the day before. It made a clicking sound when he opened his mouth and his face felt stiff. He hesitantly walked over to his mirror and found a swollen face staring back at him in the silvery liquid. It looked as bad as it felt.
“I really hate her,” he said, making clicking sounds as he spoke.
A water golem entered his room carrying a bowl of fruit and mussels. He tried to take a bite from a sea gourd, an orange-skinned melon with blue flesh inside, but he couldn’t open his mouth wide enough to eat it properly. He settled for sea grapes and mussels, which were painful to eat, even when he chewed using the non-injured side of his mouth.
A shirt and trousers woven from a thin, kelp-like material hung over the edge of his bed. Flynn donned the clothing and left his room, entering a chamber on the opposite side of the hall. In recent years, it was his favorite place. He called it the Battle Room.
It was a sparring chamber. The floor was covered in thick sponge and racks of wooden weapons were lined up along the walls. Tasker had created a handful of sparring golems for Flynn to practice against and armed them with padded
weapons.
For years, Flynn and his father sparred in the Battle Room. He became competent but he didn’t take fighting seriously until his late teens. He was far more interested in cruising along the ocean floor and he only sparred because he knew his father wanted to.
Tears welled in Flynn’s eyes as he entered the room. Those sessions with his father were precious and he hated himself for not taking them more seriously. He would have given anything to be able to spar with his father just one more time.
Flynn donned a suit of padded armor and removed a wooden cutlass from one of the weapon racks. He pointed the sword at a water golem at the back of the room. “Attack me.”
The golem stomped forward, its watery feet making wet sounds on the sponge floor. It wielded a wooden shaft wrapped in leather, and it swung it in a downward chop toward Flynn’s head. He parried the weapon and side-stepped, putting himself in a position to take advantage of the golem’s exposed flank. He swung his sword horizontally, the wooden blade slicing through its chest. The blow would have killed a human, but it passed harmlessly through the golem’s torso.
“You,” Flynn said, pointing his practice blade at a second golem. “Attack me.”
The first golem swung at Flynn and he stepped back out of range. The second one marched around him into a flanking position and the two golems slashed horizontally. Flynn ducked into a forward roll, passing below both weapons, and sprang to his feet next to the second golem. He delivered a slash of his own, slicing through one of the construct’s legs. The leg collapsed into a puddle of water that splashed against the sponge mat, and the golem toppled over.