Above World (6 page)

“Sarah Jennings!” he said. “But how come we have it? Wouldn’t she have given it to one of the moon-side families?”

“She was a smart woman, child. Smart in more ways than just books and people,” his grandma said. “This box found its way into our family for a reason, and you’re going to discover what that reason is.”

He wrenched his gaze from the box and looked at her. “You’ve never opened it?” The idea of possessing a box and never opening it seemed impossible to him. Maybe it was booby-trapped. . . .

She chuckled and handed the box to him. “No, boy, I haven’t. It’s a water safe. I didn’t want to compromise the seal.”

Hoku took the box, reveling in the complexity of the design. A thin coating of transparent material kept the silver from eroding in the salty ocean water. He found a small flap on the front, hiding six glowing numbers and a button. A combination lock!

“No, I don’t know the combination. That’s another mystery for you to solve,” Grandma Nani said. “It needs to be opened in air. I have no need of Above World artifacts, but you, however . . .”

Hoku’s mouth slid open.

“You heard me,” Grandma Nani said quietly. “Don’t be as blind as the Elders, boy. Your friend is showing you the way.”

“But Mom and Dad —”

“Will survive,” she said briskly. “Only the young can save us, boy. Only those without tails can walk between worlds.” She rested her old hand on the top of his head. The weight steadied him in the current.

Hoku looked at the silvery water safe. A great whirlpool was forming inside his belly. Not just of fear, although there was certainly some of that, but of excitement. It swirled inside him, faster and faster, until it was all he could feel.

Grandma Nani nodded and smiled. “Hoku, my boy, it’s time you had an adventure.”

H
OKU PACKED QUICKLY
, his mind filled with thoughts of artifacts. He wanted to bring everything: his bubble jars, his sticky plate, his collection of tools, a few spools of wire, and maybe some food. But he wasn’t exactly a strong swimmer, and he had a long way to travel. In the end, only the mermaid box and some of his essential tools made it into his satchel. He slipped a few smaller items into the pockets of his clothes. Just in case.

To the Above World!

Aluna would make fun of him for choosing gadgets over food, but what did they really know about the Above World? Maybe food was plentiful. Maybe there were magic seeds in the water safe that would keep them fed for the rest of their lives. Maybe Aluna could easily hunt for their dinner every night. Or maybe they’d both be dead before their stomachs even started to grumble.

Even that last thought didn’t deflate his enthusiasm.

Hoku kissed his grandma good-bye, but she hardly seemed to notice. She was back at her window, staring. He gave her a message for his parents, a simple “I have to do this, don’t worry, I love you,” and repeated it until she nodded and promised to deliver it.

Leaving the city was easy. His parents were still at work, and no one ever paid much attention to him. A nobody kid, off to do something unimportant.

This time, they were wrong.

Hoku swam toward the surface slowly, pausing every few meters to recite the ritual of ascent. One did not leave the depths of the ocean lightly. If you rose too quickly through the water, the ocean spirits exacted a price. They might decide to give you a rash, or take your sight, or even kill you. Aluna usually spoke the ritual quickly, impatient to keep swimming. He hoped, wherever she was, that she’d been more careful this time.

And that he’d be able to find her. The Above World was big. Not ocean big, but far larger than the coral reef that hid the City of Shifting Tides. They might never be reunited.

While it was true that the ancients had been obsessed with learning, building, and experimenting, just like him, they’d also destroyed themselves with wars and sickness. What part of their legacy remained? Would he and Aluna stumble on an ancient disease or kill themselves with a weapon disguised as something else?

Why were wonder and danger always so tightly interwoven?

He swam a meter under the ocean’s surface and used the shimmery streaks of sunlight and the currents to maintain his trajectory. He was getting closer and closer to the shore. He’d passed the first two of three resting rocks the Kampii used when they journeyed to trade with the Human village. The Trade Rock itself was next. He surfaced and saw it in the distance — the big, flat rock where the Kampii’s Voice bargained with the Humans.

And there she was now! Daphine’s silhouette was unmistakable. Aluna’s sister sat on the rock in a classic Kampii pose, her tail displayed to its full glittering splendor. She had undone her braids, and her hair fell in a great mass around her head. She’d made herself look like the mermaid on his water safe.

Her guards — two of Aluna’s brothers, Pilipo and Ehu — treaded near the rock with their weapons raised. But why were they here? The Elders would never schedule a trade mission on the same day as a transformation ceremony. Unless . . . this was about Aluna.

A boat wobbled near the Kampii, a small wooden slab carrying four people. Hoku swallowed. Four
Humans.
Aluna’s brothers had told him stories about the Humans from the small village on shore, but he’d never actually seen one of them.

He swam closer, but stayed low and quiet. If Daphine or the others saw him, they’d take him back to the city. He didn’t want his adventure to end before he even made it to solid ground.

He couldn’t make out much detail on the Humans’ faces, but he could tell from the way they held their weapons that they were scared and angry, and ready to fight. They kept looking behind them, toward land and their home.

Aluna’s brothers carried three-meter ceremonial axes, more for show than killing. Hunters used knives and sleek spears and harpoons when they were actually fighting. Such monstrous blades would take forever to swing in the swift ocean currents.

Daphine’s voice carried over the water, but he couldn’t make out her words. He pulled out an Extra Ear so he could hear.

“I repeat: we mean you no harm. We are only looking for a girl.” She held her hand out to indicate Aluna’s height. “Have you seen her?” She pointed to her eyes and then to the shore.

The largest Human replied, a quick burst of frantic words. His voice didn’t sound inside Hoku’s ears like Daphine’s had, so Hoku swam a little closer. The Human’s language was guttural and fast, but some of the words were similar to theirs. He heard “dead,” “attack,” “fathom,” and then, repeated over and over again, “help.”

Not Aluna,
he told himself.
They’re not talking about Aluna.

A loud buzzing filled the air. A Human male shouted and pointed toward shore.

Two massive artifacts flew toward them, each as big as Great White. A blur of flapping insect wings kept them aloft. Mechanical dragonflies! Then he noticed the Humans riding on top of the metal beasts. Sunlight glinted off a silvery eye, and a black spike like a narwhal’s horn jutted out of the other rider’s forehead. Their bodies were bizarre patchworks of flesh and artifacts, almost impossible to understand.

One of the riders had no legs at all. Her torso seemed like part of the mechanical insect itself. Did these misshapen creatures really share the same ancestors as the unadorned Humans in the boat? The same ancestors as the Kampii?

“Dragonfliers!” Ehu yelled. “Swim!”

One of the Humans on the boat — a woman — shot a harpoon at the closest flier. It bounced off the vehicle’s metal dragonfly head and plunked into the water. The rider let loose a volley of missiles in return.

Pilipo jumped onto the rock between his sister and the deadly bolts. He deflected most of the missiles with his ax, but one bolt lodged itself in his shoulder and knocked him back. The Human woman was not so quick. Several darts struck her in the chest. She groaned and tumbled into the ocean.

Hoku watched Daphine dive backward into the water. Pilipo flicked his hand, and one of the Human dragonfly riders clutched at his throat. A hunting dart! The dragonflier lurched in the air as the rider struggled to regain control. He didn’t make it. A moment later, the great machine plunged into the ocean, its wings splashing water in great gouts until the sea sucked it under.

The other two Humans swung at the remaining dragonflier with their clubs. Hoku heard four dull clangs of wood on metal, and a light peal of laughter. The second rider, the one merged with her machine, seemed agile in the air and impervious to their assault.

“Dive,” Ehu called to the Humans. “We can protect you underwater!”

Either the Humans didn’t understand or they were too angry to listen to reason. They beat uselessly on the dragonflier and spewed words Hoku couldn’t hear.

The dragonflier pulled away, out of reach of the Humans. The Humans cheered, but Hoku knew better. She was simply taking aim.

Green fluid erupted from a nozzle at the front of the dragonflier.

He saw Pilipo and Ehu dive, and he knew he wouldn’t see them again. Pilipo was bleeding from his shoulder wound. They needed to get away from the carnage and find someplace to hide until they could stop the flow of blood.

The Humans were too close to the dragonflier, and too slow. The green liquid splashed them. They dropped their weapons into the ocean and screamed.

Hoku tore his gaze from the Trade Rock and took three quick breaths. He heard the Humans fall into the water, the sounds of their pain muffled by the ocean’s embrace. He tried to move, but his body wouldn’t listen. Terror smothered him, trapping his arms and legs and squeezing at his lungs. He bobbed up and down on the waves like a lifeless buoy.

Swim!
he screamed at himself.
Swim!

And then the remaining dragonflier saw him. He could tell, even from a distance, by the way she adjusted the insect’s angle, by the whirring of its wings as it prepared to attack.

Finally, he remembered his legs and dove.

A
LUNA RODE
a series of waves toward the shore, breathing heavily. Trees lined the white sand beach in the distance. How straight they stood, their trunks tall and inflexible, only their leaves swishing in the wind. She’d made good time. Even if someone in the city noticed she was missing, she’d have a few hours’ lead.

The ocean tumbled her to the beach and she struggled to her hands and knees. Her muscles felt weak, and not just from the marathon swim. Underwater, the ocean spirits did not pull her down toward the sand, but kept her buoyant. In the Above World, her body felt heavy and slow, as if it were stuck to the earth and being crushed by the sky.

She wobbled to her feet and gave herself another minute to adjust. Her body shivered — not from the cold but from the prickly sensation of air blowing against her wet skin.

In the ocean, the current was an old friend. You knew where it flowed and how fast. You learned how to ride it, how to hear it in your head like a melody everywhere you went. Wind was the Above World’s current, but it felt wild and unpredictable. In one moment the wind pushed gently against Aluna’s back, and a moment later, it knocked her to her knees.

She stood again and took a few steps. Her legs steadied. Shells and sharp sticks jutted out of the sand, but she barely felt them under her feet. The ancients had given the Kampii thick skin for warmth, and so they wouldn’t bleed every time they brushed up against a piece of sharp coral or got snipped by a crab claw. She was especially grateful for that gift now.

Her breathing necklace pulsed slowly at her throat. It didn’t have to work as hard up here, where it was easier to pull oxygen from her surroundings. Was she getting oxygen through her mouth and nose now, too, like an Above World Human? She huffed and snorted a few times but couldn’t tell.

Hoku would know.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of him, so she walked faster. Inky night would seep into the world within a few hours. She needed someplace to rest and eat in safety. A hidey-hole or a cave, maybe.

Her right knee buckled. She dropped to the sand. Maybe the swim had been a little more exhausting than she’d thought. She squinted farther up the shore and saw a pile of driftwood sticking out of the sand. One of the pieces stuck out at an angle, creating a tiny triangle of shade. She crawled over, wedged herself under the wood, and fell asleep.