Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (14 page)

“Prophecies can’t be understood with logic. They’re more like dreams or fairy tales — only more confusing.” Gwen seemed to be grasping at straws. “Anyway, none of this makes sense. You and I are completely normal. Don’t you think if we were supposed to fulfill some sort of ancient prophecy we’d know somehow, we’d feel it?”

“We’re both smart,” Vic pointed out, “and we’re really good swimmers and problem solvers.”

Gwen shook her head. “But that doesn’t make us legends. We’re still just normal teenagers. We fight, we make mistakes, we bleed. . . .” The last few words came out in a strangled voice.

“I don’t want to be special,” Gwen continued in a choking hiccup. “I don’t want to fulfill prophecies. I don’t want to believe my parents had to die to save me from an evil wizard.” Her face worked strangely, and Vic could tell she was crying, even though no tears could flow down her face underwater. Gwen buried her face in her hands.

Vic put an awkward arm around her and felt his own throat constrict with emotion. He took a deep breath of water. In a husky voice, he said, “I’m sorry, Doc, but I’ve always hoped for more wonder in my life. In a weird way we each got what we wanted. You, uh, always wanted to be an oceanographer or marine biologist. Me? I always wished for mystery and strangeness and adventures. Still, I never expected anything like this.”

“In other words, be careful what you wish for?”

“Yup. I know you wish we were born ordinary,” Vic went on. “Maybe our parents even wished they were just ordinary, but they weren’t.”

Gwen’s violet eyes flashed with denial. “Our fathers weren’t unusual.”

Vic sighed. “I’m not so sure anymore. Some of the things Dad has said and some of the stuff in my mom’s letter make me wonder now.” He swam over to nearest windoor and poked his head out. He wondered where Azric had gone but was not anxious to have the dark sage return. Two of the merlon warriors swimming guard outside turned toward Vic and thrust intimidating undersea weapons at him, encouraging him to stay inside the chamber. He obliged.

Gwen nibbled at the corner of her lower lip, and her eyes became unfocused as she reviewed everything he had said. “I guess sometimes people who seem perfectly normal find themselves in unusual situations and end up doing extraordinary things because they have to. And that’s why there are legends about them.”

“Or prophecies,” Vic added.

“Or prophecies. All right, I surrender. Let’s proceed on the assumption that you and I are stuck doing extraordinary things, even though I feel normal and want to be ordinary. We can’t just sit around waiting for other people.”

“To rescue us?” Vic asked.

“For starters, yes. We can’t assume anybody will be able to find us. And it’s not just us, but Sharif, Lyssandra, and Tiaret. I don’t trust Orpheon.”

“Join the club,” Vic said. “So we start looking for a way to escape?”

The two of them drifted away from the scalloped windoor and the merlon guards outside. They hovered next to another slimy tapestry, speaking in hushed voices. “We’ve got to be smart about this, Taz. Our only advantage is that Azric thinks you and I are valuable to him. If we’re ever going to get a chance to escape, we have to let him think we’re so scared that we’ll go along with whatever he tells us to do.”

Vic gave a grim smile. “Well, that scared part shouldn’t be too hard.”

“That means we’ve got to pay attention to everything. No more Dr. Distracto —”

Just then, something in the water changed, a slight temperature fluctuation or current on their skin. Gwen cut off her words quickly and looked around. Was there a different smell perhaps? Vic wondered if he could even smell underwater at all. Yes, sort of. His sense of smell seemed linked to the taste of the water passing through his new gills, but he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the data that came in. In any case, he sensed the guards snap to attention, and he knew that Azric had returned.

Gwen and Vic turned to face the dark sage as he entered. Azric swam back through the windoor, dragging an amazing creature behind him by a thick chain.

The closest Vic had ever come to seeing anything like the thing was in one of his Japanese anime cartoons, though Gwen was probably trying to identify the genus and species. It had a conical body core and six slender tentacles, each about as big around as Vic’s index finger. Attached to the top of the body core by a sort of fleshy collar was a glowing green eye that could rotate to see in every direction. Light and heat radiated from the strange squidlike creature as it rippled through colors ranging from deep red to orange to pale yellow.

Vic’s stomach clenched, and his natural inclination was to hide his fear behind a cocky mask of bravado, but he had to remind himself to look frightened, as he and Gwen had just decided. It wasn’t hard to allow himself a shudder. “What is it with these people and tentacles?”

Merlon warriors swam in through the scalloped windoors. One of them carried a bloated round sack made of a leathery material. The warrior wrestled the heavy bag open to reveal a massive spiny sea urchin. In ominous silence, Azric nodded to the guards, who lunged toward the cousins, grabbing them by the shoulders and arms.

“You could just tell us what you want us to do,” Gwen said in her let’s-be-reasonable tone. “We don’t really need all these guards, do we?”

Azric plucked a foot-long spine from the coral-colored sea urchin, which cringed. Concentrating deeply and not explaining a thing, the dark sage pressed the raw end of the thorn against the belly of the squid-thing, which released a squirt of deep purple liquid that filled the hollow spine. A cloud of residual inky color drifted in the water around it. Then, with a smile of anticipation, Azric approached the twin cousins.

Before they could squirm away or ask questions, the dark sage snatched Gwen’s hand, twisting it to expose the pale underside of her forearm. She tried to yank her arm free, but the merlon warriors held her in place.

Vic yelled, “Leave her alone! What are you doing?”

Azric paid no heed. With the quill, he punctured the skin on Gwen’s wrist. Vic had no need to fake his terror, and neither did Gwen. Her eyes went wide and her body stiffened, making Vic wonder what was in the squid ink. Acid? Poison? Gwen bit her lower lip until her teeth drew blood.

“This might hurt a little bit,” Azric said. “Or a lot.”

He raised the sea-urchin spine again and made another puncture beside the first one. This time Gwen couldn’t help herself. She cried out. Azric repeated the process again and again. Ribbons of blood fluttered from Gwen’s wrist, mingling with ink from the urchin’s spine. She tried to thrash away from her tormentor.

In the grip of uncontrollable fury, Vic shouted at Azric and the merlons while his cousin screamed. When the pain was too much for Gwen, she went limp, floating in the merlons’ grasp. The ink left a stain on her wrist in a curious pattern. It took a while, but Vic finally saw what Azric had done. “A tattoo?”

Putting the finishing touches on it, Azric gave a satisfied nod. “Yes, and quite painful, I assure you. The fire squid feeds in Lavaja Canyon around the volcanic vents. The ink burns with a magical heat all its own. Sadly, I have no choice but to use force, since I cannot be certain of your cooperation.”

Next, Azric reached for Vic’s arm.

Vic’s attempts to break free were no more successful than Gwen’s had been. The wizard hummed to himself as he pressed the urchin spine to Vic’s wrist. It was a long, long time before the young man passed out.

15

PIRI WAS DEAD.

Gone.

Forever.

In the mind of Ali el Sharif, in his heart and at the core of his physical being, anger warred with sorrow and loneliness. His grief threatened to bring him to his knees, though Lyssandra and Tiaret were by his side. Fury, however, could keep him on his feet and give him strength to fight. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the hot, oozing fissure where the djinni sphere had vanished. Heat. Blazing magical heat. Consciously, Sharif used the vision to add fuel to the bonfire of his anger.

Worst of all was Orpheon’s expression of cruel pleasure as he watched the effect of his actions on the prince from Irrakesh.

The anemonites quivered as if they’d been beaten. Gedup, the jellyfish-brain who would have been killed in Piri’s stead, was dismayed and docile.

“I hope that gave you all the encouragement you need,” Orpheon announced, “as well as a bit of entertainment.” He and Blackfrill laughed together.

Merlon warriors rounded up the anemonites and prepared to drive them back to the reefs where they would return to their work with greater fear and, presumably, better results. Still tethered by their ankles, the other aquatic slaves at the edges of the blazing fissures blinked solemn eyes and said nothing.

Sharif still floated, stunned but reaching a boiling point of madness. Sensing the danger that Sharif might do something violent and foolish, without regard for his own safety or the lives of his friends, Orpheon ordered merlon warriors to bind the young man’s wrists and ankles with strips of tough doolya seaweed.

Azric’s henchman seemed to want nothing less than to leave Sharif completely broken. “Today, Prince, you have learned that any mistake you make will bring punishment for others.” He made a mock sad face. “Alas, your father learned the lesson too late to save your brother. Perhaps the loss of your dear little nymph djinni will teach you your place.”

Though he was tied, Sharif lunged at Orpheon. He knew it was a futile gesture, but he didn’t care. He felt a fierce satisfaction when his head connected with Orpheon’s belly, and he heard the man grunt. Blackfrill moved swiftly, grabbing Sharif by the hair and yanking him away.

Orpheon glowered as he tried to recover his composure. “Have a care, Prince — or I will give you stronger demonstration. You and your two friends here are completely expendable. Azric has already said so.”

These words lashed Sharif like a whip across the face. Poor Piri had not deserved to be incinerated just because of Sharif’s ill-considered escape attempt. What if Orpheon decided to hurt Tiaret or Lyssandra next?

Before Sharif could concede, or the traitorous assistant could make good on his threat, Blackfrill pointed toward a large shape moving in the open water beyond the lavaja cracks. Everyone turned to look at the graceful flying shape, large and flat, that glided through the water with gentle undulating movements.

Sharif’s heart leapt, sure that it must be his flying carpet, responding to his summons after all! He struggled against his bindings. Both Lyssandra and Tiaret also saw it and couldn’t believe their eyes.

“A great jhanta!” Blackfrill said. “Very rare — and very useful. I command you to capture it.” He nodded to six of his merlon warriors, all of whom carried spears, hooks, nets, and other weapons they used on slaves. “Go! I want the creature alive . . . though a few injuries may be acceptable.”

As the merlons streaked off, Sharif saw to his dismay that his imagination had shown him only what he wanted to see. This was not a flying carpet at all, but a flat creature with broad wing-fins, large enough to carry riders or heavy cargo.

The mantalike creature reacted to the oncoming merlons, only by fluttering its wing-fins. It didn’t seem to realize its danger. Sharif wanted to shout a warning, but the jhanta would not understand. The merlon warriors spread out, flanking it, readying their hooks and tridents and nets.

The jhanta stroked and picked up speed. It was completely unprepared for the barbed hook that sailed through the water and snagged on one of its tough wings. The creature thrashed and yanked backward, setting the hook deeper as a merlon pulled on the cord. More warriors closed in, throwing a net in front of the jhanta’s snub head.

In its violent struggle, a merlon was knocked loose to twirl through the water. The rest of the aquatic warriors piled on, weighing down the jhanta. A second wicked barb was set in the other wing-fin, and the captors quickly immobilized the creature. Pulling on the lines and hooks, they dragged it down to the sea floor, where they anchored the ropes to heavy rocks.

Sharif, torn by the failure of his flying carpet and devastated by the loss of Piri, felt a startling connection to the graceful yet helpless creature.

Orpheon was jubilant. “This bodes well for our success. We now have several new workers to help us in our mission to destroy Elantya.”

16

WHEN GWEN GROGGILY AWAKENED from the painful tattooing process, she found that Azric was no longer with them. In fact, she was no longer in the tower chamber, but being towed along by a cord tied to her wrists and hooked through a heavy ring in a shark’s dorsal fin.

Her arms and shoulders ached from being pulled through the water, but it was not enough to dull the fierce throbbing from her marked — poisoned? — wrist. She turned her head, disoriented and queasy, unable to get her bearings.

Her stomach gave a strange lurch when she realized she couldn’t see the ocean floor, the buildings of the merlon city, any reefs or upcroppings, the surface of the water, seaweed. Without any landmarks, she had no way of telling which direction was up or down. Even the merlon guards around her faced every which direction, making it impossible for Gwen to get her bearings. Her stomach heaved and churned as her mind rebelled, and Gwen wished that she had a bit of shinqroot to chew on to calm her queasiness.