Atlantis in Peril (18 page)

Ulanoma

D
rowning! I'm drowning!

Promi's mind whirled as the waters of the roiling sea filled his lungs. Coughing, he swallowed even more. Despite his desperate flailing, he sank deeper and deeper.

Though he knew he was supposed to be immortal, right now he felt entirely mortal. As well as weak, vulnerable—and drowning. Pain exploded inside him, searing his lungs and chest. His mind reeled as it darkened swiftly. All he wanted to do was breathe!

Water poured into his lungs. What had his mother said about a spirit body perishing?
Any spirit can die from pain too intense or prolonged.
That had been the goal of Grukarr and his master before Bonlo had spoiled their plans.

Bonlo.
A new kind of pain struck Promi as he realized he'd lost his hold on the old monk! When they slammed into the sea, Bonlo's body had been ripped away. It was crucial to find Bonlo soon—before he drowned!

Promi flailed more wildly than ever, hoping at least to touch the friend he'd tried to save. And who had given his all to save Promi.

Just like he did long ago in that dungeon,
Promi recalled with a stab of regret.
All for nothing.

With his awareness quickly darkening, Promi remembered Bonlo's final words. As if the gentle elder were whispering right in his ear, those words echoed in his mind.

I knew when I first met you, lad, there was something special about you. That you were destined for great deeds. And lad . . . you still are.

Despair, more pervasive than water, overwhelmed Promi. He'd lost not only Bonlo, but everything else he might have done. His life, so full of promise, had been utterly wasted. The losses rolled like waves across his mind.

He'd never have a chance to save Jaladay.

Never take another ride on Theosor.

Never set things straight with his parents.

Never help the worlds he loved—worlds he himself had doomed by his own selfishness.

Shadows fell over his thoughts, a curtain woven from threads of sadness, shame, and regret. In his final spark of consciousness, his last thought was of one more loss:

He'd never see Atlanta again.

Promi's mind went completely dark. Like a ragged shred of kelp, he floated deep underwater, buffeted by the currents. For the first time since he'd hit the water, he was at rest . . . though that rest had claimed a terrible price.

Water moved around him, bending his neck and arms, pushing against his back. Water flowed over his slackened jaw and into his throat and lungs. And more water weighed down on his limp body, thrusting him down into the blackened depths.

Then . . . a new current stirred, brushing against his long hair. Rising from below, this current nudged him gently at first. Steadily, it grew stronger, supporting his form as it rose upward.

Higher and higher the current carried him—until, at last, it was replaced by something solid. Something rising from the bottommost reaches of the sea. Something whose upward surge now lifted Promi rapidly to the surface.

All at once, Promi's body broke through the waves on the surface, carried by a gargantuan head covered with turquoise scales. Like a whole new island rising out of the sea, the head thrust higher. Rivers of water poured off the enormous brow, cascading over immense eyes and washing across scales that gleamed with their own inner light.

The turquoise dragon roared so loud she shook the sea itself. The wind from that roar sent huge waves racing away from the spot. A flock of seabirds gliding nearby screeched in panic and flew off; underwater, a group of giant sea turtles abruptly turned and fled.

Colorful starfish clung to the dragon's brow and the full length of her jaw, shining like undersea jewelry. And several huge conch shells, purple and pink and gold, were embedded between the scales of her chin. Her most striking jewel, though, dangled from her left ear.

Ocean glass. A huge chunk of radiant crystal, taller than a fully grown human, graced the dragon's ear, suspended by a silver net of mermaids' hair.
As rare as ocean glass
was a common phrase in the spirit realm. Indeed, the substance was so rare that even Sammelvar had only seen a single small fragment in his whole long lifetime. That piece he attached to an amulet, then gave it to Escholia at their wedding.

Many prized ocean glass for its lustrous, shimmering glow. Yet many others prized it for a quality even more unusual: this crystal changed colors depending on the fortunes of whoever held it. Right now, the dragon's ocean-glass earring glowed radiant blue, like ocean waves shot through with sunlight.

Still, nothing the dragon wore glowed nearly as bright as her eyes. Shaped like diamonds, they shone gold with flecks of turquoise. Beneath those colors burned the light of supreme intelligence.

With seawater still cascading down her head, the dragon arched her neck slightly. Promi's limp body slid off and plunged back toward the waves. But before he hit the water, she lifted the tip of one wing and caught him in the groove between two claws. There he lay, sprawled on the leathery webbing of her wing.

For a moment she gazed intently at the young man, as if searching inside him for any remaining spark of life. Suddenly her nostrils flared and she blew a long, steady breath on his motionless form—a magical wind that could, perhaps, kindle such a spark into flame.

The dragon's breath ruffled Promi's drenched sleeves and tousled his wet hair. Yet he showed no sign of life. He just lay there like an empty shell.

All at once, the turquoise dragon stopped blowing. Noticing something strange, she raised an eyebrow and peered at the young man's chest. For his tunic had started to ripple and bulge strangely. His chest seemed to be shifting shape.

Out of Promi's collar poked a small, furry head with wide blue eyes. Kermi! He shook his sodden head, crawled completely out from the tunic, and gazed at the dragon.

“So what are you staring at?” he grumbled. “Haven't you ever seen a blue kermuncle before?”

The turquoise dragon gave a rumbling laugh, a sound like distant thunder. Then in a rich, melodic voice that seemed as deep as the sea itself, she replied, “Neverrrrr one as wet as you arrrrre.”

Kermi, who was using the bushy tip of his tail to swab out his wet ears, sighed. “Neither have I.”

The dragon shook her head sadly, making the ocean-glass earring sway and clink against her scales. “I fearrrrr yourrrrr companion has been lost. He sufferrrrred too much and too long—morrrrre than most spirrrrrits could surrrrrvive.”

Kermi scowled. “Don't underestimate his ability to suffer. He's unusually good at it.”

The kermuncle shook himself, spraying water everywhere, then leaped on top of Promi's face. Using his tiny fists, he started pounding the young man's nose. This beating continued for several seconds, until—

Promi suddenly gasped for air. He belched seawater, spraying Kermi. Then he coughed vigorously, belched some more, and finally drew a few ragged breaths.

Focusing his gaze, he jumped when he saw the enormous face of the dragon staring down at him. “You!” he exclaimed. “How . . . what?”

“Articulate as ever,” said Kermi crustily. “Show some manners, manfool. This dragon rescued us both.”

Promi's jaw opened in astonishment, closed again, then opened again to say, “Well . . . thank you, great sea dragon.”

“You arrrrre most welcome, young man.” The enormous creature tilted her head thoughtfully, making her earring sway again. “I could tell, even frrrrrom fathoms below, therrrrre was something special about yourrrrr spirrrrrit. Something perrrrrhaps worrrrrth saving.”

“Bah,” snorted Kermi, sitting on Promi's chest. “The only thing special about him is the extent of his
idiocy
.”

“Kermi!” A broad grin spread over Promi's face. “I do believe I'm actually glad to hear your sarcastic voice.” After a pause, he added, “You do look a bit ragged, though.”

“No thanks to you, manfool.” Grabbing his tail, Kermi started to swab his ears again. “You don't look so presentable yourself.”

Promi sat up on the dragon's wing, staying well away from her immense claws. “Believe me, I don't feel very good.” Suddenly puzzled, he reached up and felt his swollen nose. “For some strange reason, my nose feels really sore.”

Kermi shrugged and shot a wink at the dragon. “Who knows why?”

Again, the turquoise dragon laughed. Then, noticing something visible through a tear in Promi's tunic, she opened her massive, teeth-studded jaws in surprise. Closing her jaws with a resounding
snap,
she spoke again to the young man she'd saved.

“Now I know why yourrrrr spirrrrrit seemed so special. Just as I know yourrrrr name—Prrrrrometheus.”

Catching his breath, Promi peered at her. Suddenly realizing what she must have discovered, he glanced down at his torn tunic and saw the mark of the Prophecy on his chest. As always, the mark resembled a bird in flight . . . but this time, it almost could have been a dragon.

“Yes,” he replied. “That is my given name. But you can call me Promi.”

“Hmmmpff,” sneered Kermi. “I prefer
manfool
.”

The turquoise dragon's powerful legs kicked in the water, lifting her body higher above the waves. “Having seen the marrrrrk on your chest, I know morrrrre than yourrrrr name. I also know yourrrrr destiny: to do grrrrreat deeds forrrrr the world.”

Promi blanched. He'd never, in his whole life, felt deserving of the high expectations that came with the Prophecy. Especially now, after he'd failed so miserably to do the one deed he'd set out to do: to save his sister.
I'm sorry, Jaladay,
he thought.
Wherever you are right now . . . I'm sorry.

At this moment, though, what made the dragon's words bite extra-deep was how much they echoed what Bonlo had said. Just before the end.

Biting his lip, Promi turned to the kermuncle. “I lost Bonlo,” he said morosely. “After everything he did for us . . . and I just couldn't hold on to him. He must have drowned.”

Before Kermi could respond, the dragon spoke. “The destiny of the frrrrriend you lost is beyond yourrrrr rrrrreach, young voyagerrrrr. Allow him to find his way, just as he helped you to find yourrrrrs.”

“Is he,” asked Promi, “gone forever? Totally destroyed?”

The dragon thought for a moment—and as she did, the crystal of ocean glass darkened to a deeper shade of blue, like the waters of a stormy sea. Finally, she said, “I cannot tell. His fate is utterrrrrly hidden.”

She raised her enormous head higher. All up and down her long neck, turquoise scales sparkled as water ran down them, making her body seem more liquid than solid. “But yourrrrrs,” she declared, “is not.”

Her diamond-shaped eye peered down at the two bedraggled creatures resting on her wing. “My name is Ulanoma, eldest of all the sea drrrrragons,” she said in her deep, melodic voice. “And ourrrrr fates are entwined, like rrrrropes of sea kelp.”

As she spoke those words, the ocean-glass earring darkened even more. Shadows crept across it, until it looked more like a piece of black obsidian than the sparkling crystal it had been just moments before. Then Ulanoma said the last thing Promi ever expected to hear.

“Forrrrr I shall help you find the one you seek—the one named Jaladay.”

Swirling Shadows

B
oth Promi and Kermi jolted, as if they'd been hit by an electrical shock. And indeed they had, for the name
Jaladay
sent a current right through them.

Promi sat upright in the notch of the turquoise dragon's wing. “What—I mean, how? You
would
? You will?”

Kermi rolled his wide blue eyes. He shook the remaining water off his whiskers and said, “What my articulate friend here is trying to say is . . . er, well—you
would
? You will?”

“Thanks for clarifying,” grumbled Promi.

“Indeed,” declared Ulanoma, “I will try to help you find herrrrr. But I must warrrrrn you—that will not be easy.”

Having regained his composure, Kermi hopped up to the base of one of the dragon's perilous claws. “How is it even possible? Have you ever met Jaladay? Do you know anything about her?”

The turquoise dragon raised her mighty head, making the ocean-glass earring clink against her scales. “We spoke only once, verrrrry brrrrriefly. Yet she made a clearrrrr and strrrrrong imprrrrression on me. She seemed highly awarrrrre of herrrrr surrrrroundings, in the way of a Seerrrrr, as she sat therrrrre on that purrrrrple cloudfield.”

“Wait,” said Promi. “How long ago was this?”

“Severrrrral days ago.”

“And,” Promi pressed, “was the cloudfield full of tiny flower worlds?”

Ulanoma lowered her head so that one huge golden eye was right beside him. “Yes, young voyagerrrrr. How did you everrrrr know?”

“Because that was the place where she disappeared! You might have been the very last being to have seen her.”

The dragon's eyebrow lifted, knocking off a few starfish that had been clinging to the scales. As they splashed into the sea below, Ulanoma nodded her huge head. “Now I underrrrrstand.”

“Underrrrrstand what?” asked both Promi and Kermi at once.

“Why herrrrr message came to me.”

“What message?” Promi demanded.

The turquoise dragon lifted her other wing, gesturing toward the constantly shifting clouds of the spirit realm. “Everrrrrywherrrrre, new worrrrrlds abound. The morrrrre I have explorrrrred this rrrrrealm, the morrrrre rrrrremains to be discoverrrrrred. And each of those worrrrrlds has its own individual rrrrrules.”

Promi pushed the wet locks of hair off his brow. “What does that have to do with Jaladay?”

“Only this,” rumbled Ulanoma. “One of the rrrrrules that applies in any parrrrrt of the spirrrrrit rrrrrealm is that someone who is a Seerrrrr can telepath a message to the last being she saw! No matterrrrr how farrrrr away.”

“I never knew that,” said Promi.

“Like most things, manfool.” Kermi jumped onto his shoulder and growled, “Let me handle this, will you?”

Turning his tiny face toward the dragon's immense one, the kermuncle said, “So she contacted you, did she? What did she say?”

Ulanoma sighed, making her great nostrils flare. “Verrrrry little. You see . . . the message was hurrrrried, incomplete. Not at all underrrrrstandable.”

Promi shook his head in disappointment. So did Kermi, who grumbled, “Then we have no way to find her.”

“Not trrrrrue,” declared the dragon. She shook her head, flashing her luminous scales. “I was about to say, herrrrr message was not at all underrrrrstandable—
except
to anotherrrrr Seerrrrr.”

As her two companions stared at her in surprise, Ulanoma explained, “My powerrrrrs as a Seerrrrr arrrrre bound up with my ocean-glass crrrrrystal. It magnifies whateverrrrr visions I have, painting images both in the crrrrrystal and in my mind.”

Tilting her head so that the suspended ocean glass rested securely against her jaw, she declared, “And what I saw, only yesterrrrrday, was this.”

Deep within the swirling shadows of the crystal, a small point of light appeared. It swelled like a distant explosion, growing more luminous by the second. Soon, misty light filled the whole crystal.

Suddenly, shapes started to emerge. Broken and half-formed, they flashed briefly, then vanished. A thin, pointed chin . . . an ominous shadow that trembled with black sparks . . . an empty stone cell . . . a jagged cloud that looked like a dark row of icicles . . . an eye, so fiery red it seemed to sizzle.

The shapes abruptly stopped—as if someone's scream had been stifled.

From deep in her throat, the dragon growled—a sound that terrified any fish or seabirds near enough to hear. “Mistwrrrrraiths,” she said scornfully, “arrrrre therrrrre.”

“As is Narkazan,” added Promi, with equal scorn. “I'd know that eye anywhere!”

“Few have seen that eye,” Ulanoma observed, “and surrrrrvived.”

Kermi's tail thumped against Promi's shoulder. “He tried awfully hard
not
to survive . . . but alas, he did.”

Ignoring the provocation, Promi said, “If only Jaladay can hang on long enough for us to find her.”

“But how?” Kermi demanded. His tail twisted anxiously in the air. “We have absolutely nothing to go on—nothing to guide us.”

Promi blew a long, discouraged breath. Peering up at the great golden eye of the dragon, he asked, “That's right, isn't it?”

For several heartbeats, Ulanoma said nothing. Her earring darkened swiftly, as if most of its light had been extinguished. Then, in her deepest rumble, she spoke.

“Once, in my trrrrravels long ago, I saw those icicle clouds. They may have moved farrrrr away. They may be impossible forrrrr us to find—orrrrr even surrrrrvive.”

She clenched her massive jaw, grinding hundreds of sword-sharp teeth. “But if they still exist . . . we shall searrrrrch everrrrry bit of them.”

“Yes,” agreed Promi as he pressed his hand against the leathery webbing of her wing. “And rescue Jaladay.”

“Therrrrre is anotherrrrr prrrrroblem.” The dragon's earring went completely dark, as black as a starless night. “Mistwrrrrraiths.”

Ulanoma paused, then growled again. This time, though, the sound was mixed with something almost like a sob. “I hate them morrrrre than anything in the entirrrrre rrrrrealm. Forrrrr they killed my mate, my one trrrrrue love. Even now, many yearrrrrs laterrrrr, I can hearrrrr his scrrrrreams of agony when they touched him.”

Both Promi and Kermi kept silent. Nothing they might say could possibly help to heal the dragon's broken heart.

“Therrrrre is morrrrre you should know, Prrrrrometheus,” she continued. “Not only do I hate mistwrrrrraiths . . . but I also fearrrrr them.”

Promi shifted uneasily in the notch of her wing. “If this is too much to ask, Ulanoma, you don't have to help us.”

Her great golden eye, sparkling with flecks of turquoise, peered down at him. “Yes, son of the Prrrrrophecy, I do. Forrrrr yourrrrr sisterrrrr . . . and also forrrrr my mate.” She nodded, making her earring bounce. “But it is good that my two childrrrrren arrrrre big enough now to fend forrrrr themselves. Forrrrr we may neverrrrr rrrrreturrrrrn.”

Bending closer to Promi, she asked, “Do you have a plan, Prrrrrometheus?”

Under his breath, Kermi muttered, “This should be entertaining.”

Promi chewed his lip, then confessed, “Er . . . no. I don't.”

“Then,” the turquoise dragon announced, “I have a plan to offerrrrr.”

“Tell us,” said both Promi and Kermi at once.

“We shall searrrrrch the icicle clouds forrrrr the hidden forrrrrtrrrrress of Narrrrrkazan. If we find it, I shall face my worrrrrst enemy—the mistwrrrrraiths—and do my best to drrrrraw them away.”

Bending her enormous head closer, she said gravely, “Then you shall face yourrrrr own worrrrrst enemy—Narrrrrkazan—and trrrrry to save Jaladay.”

His expression grim, Promi nodded. “We have a plan. Let's hope that it works.”

“And that,” Ulanoma added, “when it is all overrrrr . . . we shall meet anotherrrrr day.”

Suddenly, a deep roar echoed across the ocean waves. Though it came from far away, Promi recognized it immediately. And his face brightened.

“You know that rrrrroarrrrr,” declared the dragon. “I sense it comes frrrrrom no strrrrrangerrrrr.”

“Right.” Promi stood up on the dragon's wing. “It comes from Theosor!”

Just then, the wind lion appeared out of the misty sky. Giving his thick mane a shake, he hovered over their heads, his invisible wings whirring.

“Greetings to you, great dragon,” he declared, his voice booming across the water. “I am Theosor. And I see you have met my friends.”

The dragon nodded, making her turquoise scales shimmer. “I am Ulanoma. Have you come to join us on ourrrrr quest?”

“To rescue Jaladay,” added Promi. “We're just about to leave—searching for a place with jagged clouds like icicles.” Hopefully, he asked, “Will you join us?”

“No, young cub.” The wind lion's immense eyes peered at Promi. “I cannot, for I am very busy patrolling the perimeter of a certain afterglow.”

Promi frowned. “My fault, I know.” After a pause, he questioned, “So why are you here?”

Theosor flew lower, hovering close enough to Promi that the young man could feel the wind from his wings. “I am never too busy to bring a message to you, young cub.”

“A message? From who?”

“From a mortal—someone named Shangri. She sent you a prayer leaf from the very same bridge where we first met.”

“When I leaped,” Promi recalled, “and you caught me.”

“That I did,” thundered the wind lion.

“Shangri,” said Promi, feeling surprised, as well as pleased. “What did she say?”

“Just this, young cub.” And Theosor recited:

“Promi, it feels jest like yesterday we talked on those cliffs above the sea. But five years have passed for us here on this world.”

“Five years!” exclaimed Promi. “That can't be true.”

“But it is, young cub. Now hear the rest.

“Those years have not been good for Atlantis. We are in trouble, Promi—mainly from the people on that ship you rescued.”

At this, Kermi groaned loudly and Promi scowled. But Theosor went on.

“We need yer help, Promi. Atlantis is in peril . . . an' what are we to do?”

Promi shook his head. How could he have caused so many problems in both of his worlds?

“There's one more somethin' you must know,”
recited the wind lion.
“An' it's the most important fact o' all: Atlanta still loves you. I jest met her an' she still holds a place in her heart fer you.”

The force of those words almost knocked Promi off the dragon's wing. He steadied himself, but his head spun with questions, doubts, and longings.

“If ye really get this,”
concluded the message,
“please answer yer old friend Shangri. An' if ye ever do come back to us . . . cinnamon buns will be waitin', that's a promise.”

Theosor studied the young man below him. “Do you have any reply?”

Furrowing his brow, Promi answered, “Just this. Let Shangri know that I got her message. Tell her that I will never abandon Atlantis, if it's the last thing I ever do! Tell her not to lose hope. Trust me, hope has great power. And finally . . . tell her that I feel the same way about Atlanta—even if we can never be together.”

Theosor nodded, shaking his great mane. “I shall deliver your message, young cub. The next time her thoughts turn to you, she will hear your voice on the wind.”

Lifting himself higher, he said, “Now I must go. But first, I have two more things to say.”

Turning to the turquoise dragon, he declared, “There is only one formation of icicle clouds anywhere that I know. It lies far from here, near the Caverns of Doom.”

Ulanoma's golden eyes narrowed. “Those caverrrrrns arrrrre known to me. Forrrrr that is wherrrrre my mate was murrrrrderrrrred.”

“Be careful, brave dragon,” said Theosor.

“I shall trrrrry.”

The wind lion faced Promi again. “If you are attacked by mistwraiths, remember your father's advice. It sounds crazy, I must agree, but Sammelvar has great wisdom. Perhaps you should trust him.”

“No!” retorted Promi. “I won't—can't—do that. His advice doesn't just sound crazy, it really
is
crazy. No one could love one of those evil beings!”

Theosor merely gazed at him with the deep brown pools of his eyes.

“I can't do it,” repeated Promi.

“No one,” growled Ulanoma, “could everrrrr love a mistwrrrrraith! They arrrrre the most loathsome beings anywherrrrre.”

“So be it,” declared Theosor. “Good luck to you all.”

There was a whir of invisible wings—and the wind lion vanished.