Watery Graves

by Theophilus Monroe

  “Nice to meet you, Pauli!” the girl said.

  “Back atcha!” Pauli said.

  The girl’s mouth fell agape. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to talk.

  I laughed. “Pauli’s actually a human… trapped in a snake’s body.”

  “Wicked!” the girl said, impressed. “You clearly aren’t from around here.”

  “Did the legs give it away?” I asked.

  “You could say that,” the girl said. “Always wanted to meet a human.”

  “Well I’m Annabelle, and I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Name’s Shelly,” the girl said.

  I scrunched my brow.

  “I know, my parents picked the most cliché of names for us. My brother, he’s the DJ. His name is Finn.”

  I laughed. “Seriously? That is cliché. So you guys work here?”

  “Last night. Tomorrow is our eighteenth birthday, so we have to start our training.”

  “Training?”

  “With the wyrmriders. You really are new around here, huh?”

  I nodded. “First day under the sea.”

  “Every Mer-person has to serve when they turn eighteen down here.”

  “You guys have mandatory military service?”

  Shelly nodded. “Just part of our world, I guess. Necessary these days. Come on, let me show you guys around.”

  Shelly handed me the rest of the glowing kelp she held—only a few strands left—and I draped them over my neck. They glowed with pinks and greens. Meanwhile the music continued thumping in the background. Plenty of bass, no doubt, seemed like a combination of hip-hop and calypso. It was unique, but I could dig it. It was something I could dance to.

  “So over here you can get your drinks and such.”

  “How much?” I asked.

  Shelly raised her brow. “How much what?”

  “Money, how much does it cost?”

  Shelly shook her head. “Not sure I know what you mean.”

  “You don’t have to give someone something like money, something that has worth, to get a drink or some food?”

  Shelly shook her head. “Down here everyone does their part. You do your job, your work, and you have access to anything you want.”

  “But if you don’t work?”

  “If you aren’t sharing, why would anyone share with you?”

  “What about kids? Or outsiders, like us?”

  “We aren’t brutes. Kids are provided for. We show hospitality to our guests. But I should say, we don’t get many visitors here.”

  “So, basically you guys are socialists,” Pauli added. “Join the revolution!”

  “We are totally social! And we party!” Shelly exclaimed. Clearly, she had no idea what a socialism was. No matter how you looked at it, trying to define this underwater world by terms and categories we assign to “land walker” societies wouldn’t be fair. This place had its own history. Its own culture. There might be some similarities between this place and the world above—this rave, for instance—but the similarities only highlighted the differences.

  I touched the piece of kelp that I’d draped around my neck. What made this stuff glow, anyway?

  Do you feel that? Isabelle asked.

  I narrowed my eyes. I did feel something.

  “Hey, Shelly, what is this stuff anyway?”

  Shelly winked. “Feel it yet?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The buzz!”

  “This stuff is a drug?”

  “What are drugs?”

  “Never mind.” Whatever this kelp was, it made me feel like I was floating… even more than I already was on account of being underwater. I had an urge to laugh, and I didn’t know why.

  Shelly smiled at me widely. “Enjoy the ride! When you’re done, just take it off.”

  I lifted the kelp from my body and set it aside. My mind immediately cleared. I put it back on again. I giggled for no reason at all. “Holy crap. This shit is like an instant high and you sober up like right away when you take it off.”

  “Looks like a plant, right? But it’s actually alive. It’s an animal. The thing is loaded up with defense mechanisms. One, it looks like glowing plant life, so it disguises itself well. And two, anything that touches it feels happy. Don’t eat it, though.”

  “What happens if you eat it?”

  “You die. That’s its third defense mechanism. So just don’t put it in your mouth, and you should be good.”

  I can’t believe we’re doing drugs…

  “It’s not drugs, Isabelle,” I said curtly. “It’s an animal.”

  Does it matter? The effect… this isn’t natural.

  “Who cares. Feels good, right?”

  My magica won’t even touch it. I can’t get rid of it. Ugh…

  Alcohol is a poison—made sense that Isabelle’s magica could “heal” those effects. But this… it was something altogether different.

  “Also, don’t take any with you out of the water. These babies lose contact with salt water, the effect is the opposite.”

  “Makes you depressed?” I asked.

  “Totally… you don’t want to even touch this stuff for a second outside of the ocean.”

  “Hear that, Pauli? Don’t try and sneak any of this out of here.”

  “Where exactly would I put it? Not like I have any pockets. I don’t even have a proper butthole. No storage at all!”

  I giggled more than I normally would at the word butthole. Must be the kelp… or whatever this stuff was.

  “Up for oysters?” Shelly asked.

  “Pretty much everything here is seafood, right?”

  “We are under the sea, Annabelle,” Pauli interjected.

  “Baby, it’s better, down where it’s wetter.”

  “Are you coming on to me?” Pauli asked.

  I giggled. “No, that’s the song. That’s not what I was talking about!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Really.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Pauli whispered in my ear. “You can’t get enough of this hunka hunka boa love.”

  I snorted. “That’s the worst Elvis parody I’ve ever heard.”

  “Who is Elvis?” Shelly asked as she directed us to a floating bar.

  “He’s the King!” Pauli interjected.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Just the king of rock,” I clarified.

  “Why do rocks need kings? Aren’t they naturally pretty obedient already?”

  I giggled. “It’s a kind of music.”

  “So your music is controlled by monarchs?”

  I shook my head. “Just a metaphor. They just call him the king of rock. I don’t know why. He’s been dead a long time, anyway.”

  “Elvis is not dead!” Pauli insisted. “Haven’t you seen The Elvis Files?”

  “Dude, if he was still alive, he’d be in his eighties. I don’t know what you’re holding on for.”

  “That’s not the point, honey! They misspelled his middle name on his gravestone. That has to mean something.”

  “Might just mean whoever made it was a moron.”

  “No, as much money as his family has, they’d fix that shit… if he’s really buried there.”

  Shelly was smiling at us. “You land walkers really are a bit odd.”

  “You have no idea!” I exclaimed. “How about those oysters?”

  Shelly handed me a canister of some kind. I popped open the lid, grabbed an oyster, and flicked it in my mouth.

  I grimaced.

  “How are they?” Shelly asked.

  “They’re fantastic!” I lied. Sort of. The kelp seemed to make the slimy sensation, which I’d normally find repulsive, somehow pleasant.

  “Annabelle, Pauli,” Shelly said, “this is my brother, Finn.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Finn extended a hand to me. I shook it. He extended his hand to Pauli, looked embarrassed for a second, and then withdrew it. I snickered.

  Instead, he gave Pauli a man n
od. You know, the little nod that dudes use to acknowledge each other while avoiding any kind of emotional response to encountering another male.

  “Can’t shake hands,” Pauli said.

  “Yeah,” Finn said. “Sorry.”

  “But I give hugs!” A half second later, Pauli wrapped himself around Finn. The Merman looked horrified.

  Shelly and I burst into laughter.

  “Don’t you need to go man the DJ booth?” I asked.

  Finn shrugged. “Nah. This stuff is pretty much all controlled by a computer anyway.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How do computers work down here?”

  Finn shrugged. “How do they work on land? I mean, judging by your legs I’m sure that’s where you’re from. You’d think all the air would fry the components.”

  “Your tech must be… different than ours.”

  “Must be.” Finn nodded. “Anyway, I couldn’t help but notice you… again… on account of your legs and the fact that my sister, who doesn’t know a stranger, was showing you around.”

  “Yeah, we just got here today. Had no idea this place even existed.”

  “Most land walkers know nothing about our people. We try to keep it that way.” Finn locked his eyes onto mine. It felt almost like a threat. If he’d been a mobster, I felt he would have said “capisce?” at the end of his statement.

  “Don’t worry, we aren’t here to expose you or anything. Agwe brought us here for a quest.”

  Annabelle… do you think you should really be talking about that?

  I shrugged off Isabelle’s warning. She probably had a point. But I didn’t care… probably on account of the kelp.

  “A quest? What for?”

  “Finn,” Shelly interrupted. “Stop interrogating her. If Agwe brought her here, then it’s cool.”

  “For his trident,” I blurted out.

  Finn smiled widely. “It’s a fool’s errand. That trident is something from children’s stories. It isn’t real.”

  “You don’t know that!” Shelly insisted.

  “Come on,” Finn said. “A trident that could control the seas? No one controls the ocean.”

  “Well he is a Loa,” I said.

  Finn narrowed his eyes. “Agwe rules things down here, don’t get me wrong. But he is not one of us. He has his own agenda. Whatever he told you to get you down here, don’t believe it. That whole story about his trident… it’s all bullshit he tells us to make us think he could be more powerful than he really is, if he ever got the thing back.”

  “Finn, stop!” Shelly said, slapping her brother on the shoulder. Finn just shook his head as he turned toward his DJ booth. “Anyway, I have to get back to work. Nice to meet you. Behave yourselves.”

  “What’s up his ass?” Pauli asked.

  “Nothing,” Shelly said. “We don’t put things up…”

  “Just an expression,” I interrupted. “Pauli wants to know why he’s…”

  “An asshole!” Pauli finished my sentence.

  “He’s a Merman. He has an asshole, but…”

  “Where?” Pauli asked. “I can’t see any on any of you.”

  “Pauli!” I said, giggling. “I’m sure it’s in the normal place.”

  “Between the scales if you must know,” Shelly said. “But to answer your question, if I can read between the lines, my brother is just a bit upset. His boyfriend was a wyrmrider. He just received news that he died. Finn was looking forward to joining him in the ranks tomorrow.”

  “That means he’s single!” Pauli whispered in my ear. I would have elbowed him in the gut on account of his insensitivity if I actually knew where his gut was on his boa constrictor body.

  “Your brother’s boyfriend was Evan?” I asked.

  “How do you know about that?” Shelly asked.

  “The sharks attacked while we were following Agwe to the city. He called the wyrmriders. I saw Evan fall.”

  Shelly sighed. “Best not tell Finn that. He already doesn’t trust you. If he finds out Evan died trying to save you guys, he’ll just blame you for it.”

  “Why doesn’t he just wear some of this happy kelp?” I asked.

  Shelly shrugged. “Probably feels like he needs to feel the loss. At least for a while. Has to sort through it before training starts tomorrow.”

  “So you guys can’t really kill Anne Bonny’s sharks at all, right?”

  “Not really. But we can keep them off our walls.”

  “And if she keeps making more…”

  Shelly sighed. “It’s just a matter of time before we’re overrun. Everyone knows it. But that’s why we serve a term with the wyrmriders.”

  “So you can defend a city that will eventually fall anyway? Why not just up and leave?”

  “Because some things are worth fighting for.”

  “Even if you’re destined to lose?”

  Shelly nodded. “We’re proud to fight because we belong to an ancient people. This isn’t the only outpost of Fomoria. Fomoria isn’t a city. It’s a whole kingdom, a network of outposts in all the world’s oceans.”

  “Mer cities all over the globe?” Pauli asked.

  Shelly nodded. “Though not all look like us. The ancient Fomorians were monstrosities of a sort. Dwelled mostly in our outpost off the coasts of today’s Scotland. Eventually the ancients evolved the ability to shape-shift. After some kind of war with the ancient land walkers, the people dispersed, established new outposts all over the world. When we arrived, this was the form our ancestors chose, for those of us who belong to the Caribbean outpost. Other Fomorians… they chose different forms.”

  “How do people not know about this?” I asked. “I mean, an entire civilization on the ocean floor, spread around the globe?”

  Shelly shrugged. “Maybe people only believe in what they want to believe in? Used to be that the Merfolk didn’t believe land walkers existed either. Everyone thought they were just creatures of myth. I mean, seems impossible that anyone could survive that long exposed to the sun.”

  “It’s a matter of perspective, I suppose.”

  “Most things are,” Shelly said.

  “But I still don’t get why you’re fighting a war that you can’t really win.”

  “What other choice do we have? Fighting isn’t always about winning.” Shelly bit her lip. “It’s about standing up for what we value. Our way of life. Who we are. We could retreat, I guess. But we’d lose ourselves. This way, even if we die in the end, we die true to who we are.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Don’t get me wrong, that sounds noble. But couldn’t you retreat and still keep something of yourselves… find yourselves again in a new place? What good is it to stand up for your way of life if you just end up dead?”

  “There’s always hope, Annabelle. No outcome is inevitable.”

  “Even against an army of zombie sharks that can’t be killed?”

  “We haven’t died yet. That means there’s still hope.”

  “Even if your hope is in a miracle?”

  Shelly nodded. “Hope is always miraculous, don’t you think?”

  I scrunched my brow. One thing still didn’t make sense—when Agwe called the wyrmriders on his conch, only Joni and Evan appeared. If there really was an army like this, where were they?

  “How many wyrmriders are there, anyway?”

  “None. I mean, except for La Sirene. Evan was the last survivor of last year’s troop.”

  “Wait… an entire class of wyrmriders died, and you’re joining the new troop to replace them?”

  Shelly grinned. “Seems kind of morbid, right? Like we have a death wish or something. But if we don’t fight, all our people will die. Maybe not tomorrow. But we wouldn’t last more than a week or two without the wyrmriders.”

  I shook my head. “And I thought things looked grim on the surface.”

  I bit my lip, grabbed another piece of kelp from the surface of the bar—this one glowed blue—and wrapped it around my wrist. I was going to need all the �
�happy” I could get. I knew one thing—I was here on a quest, to get a trident, to hopefully restore Vilokan and save the souls lingering there before Kalfu could resurrect them. But I also knew I was the only one who could actually kill Anne Bonny’s sharks. I was the only one who could possibly save this city. And I’d be damned before I let another city fall on my watch.

  You’re not going to let this go, are you?

  I just shook my head—Isabelle would get the message. She knew me well enough to realize I couldn’t leave these people to fend for themselves. To suffer an endless cycle of death. After all, how many groups of wyrmriders could die before there was no one left at all? What these people were experiencing might not be a sudden genocide, but it was a death by a thousand paper cuts. Their numbers were being depleted slowly… and the deaths would only get worse as Anne Bonny’s legions grew.

  “Hey, where the hell did Pauli go?”

  Shelly laughed. I followed her eyes to a giant clamshell full of glowing carp. Pauli’s iridescent form almost blended in, but he was slithering around like a child hopped up on Pixy Stix.

  “Damnit, Pauli!” I shouted even as I tried to suppress my own laughter.

  “Whoo hooo!” was Pauli’s only reply.

  “You have your hands full with that one, don’t you?” Shelly asked.

  I chuckled. “You have no idea. But truth be told, that boy… he’s saved me more times than I can count.”

  Chapter Five

  The night before hadn’t exactly been the escape I was looking for. The last thing I wanted to think about was death, but what I’d learned about this place, how these Merfolk were basically sacrificing their youth so they could preserve whatever they had left of a society as long as possible… the specter of death was haunting me even more than before. But now it was less a sense of mourning and more a resolve—I wasn’t going to let what happened to Vilokan happen here. Especially not at the hands of some ghastly bitch who commands zombie sharks.

  The Merfolk didn’t have beds. Instead they had sleeping bags woven together with seaweed. Not the most comfortable things in the world, but it prevented your arms and legs from flailing around in the water while you slept. It also came with straps and hooks that connected to loops on the floor to prevent it from floating away at night. I’d slept on water beds before, but this was something else entirely. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but certainly unfamiliar. That alone meant I probably didn’t sleep more than a few minutes, scattered here and there, throughout the night. If it was really night at all. No sunlight down here. No mechanism for telling time. I just sort of followed the lead of everyone else at the club who seemed to think it had gotten late. Not to mention, I hadn’t slept since everything went down in Vilokan. When I woke up the day before in my bunk in the first-year dormitory, the last place I thought I’d wake up next was in a mysterious city somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. You couldn’t make shit like this up. But that was my life as of late. Weirder and more unpredictable by the day.