Renhala (39 page)

To imagine standing on the bottom of the ocean floor with all your clothes on, breathing air as schools of fish swim between your legs does not even come close to the experience even of standing in the doorway of this room. Bu floats in the center of the room, his back to us. He talks, but I cannot understand his words or see who or what he may be talking to. As I gather the courage to step inside the room, Bu
’s head turns 180 degrees and he smiles. No matter how much I love and trust Bu, that simple movement still creeps me out. 

“Th
at is horror-film material,” mumbles Conner, shaking.

“Glad we can agree on something.” As we enter the room, the door disappears behind us and the room gets very moist, as though we have entered a rainforest. The moisture grows heavier and heavier, until we are totally saturated to our underwear. Overwhelming dizziness takes over my body and I wobble, feeling a
s though my head might explode. I look to Conner and see gills on his neck. “No way!” I yelp. My words are drowned as I reach to my neck and feel my own set of gills.

Chapter 48

Wet

I panic and start pawing frantically at the water in front of me. Quickly, Bu holds my hands down to my sides as he and his friend, indeed a SharkBoy, start talking again, but without the use of their mouths. 

Kailey, you relax.
The familiar tickling of someone else in my head makes me forget the weirdness of the water not flowing up my nose.

You were right. She
is
pretty...appetizing.
SharkBoy swims directly in front of us, more shark than boy, and winks at me with his boy eyelids. Only his face is one of human youth—large blue eyes, small stub for a nose, and thin, beautiful, delicate lips. The rest of his body is full-blown shark, fins and all. I shiver as SharkBoy’s lower line of teeth appears over his top lip in his attempt at smiling at me. He swims quickly around Conner, scoping him out.
Your heartbeat is speeding up. That’s tempting.
His smile is at full capacity now, and it’s as scary as hell, looming in front of us. I cannot help but stare at the abomination floating before my eyes. I freeze, not even being able to sense his energy. Conner moves closer to me, his hand moving towards his hidden weapon.

SharkBoy, you stop messing with
Bu’s friends
.
Bu slaps SharkBoy on his back like an old fishing buddy.

SharkBoy stumbles forward in the water, then winks at me once more. In my head, I hear a laugh.
Sorry. I hardly get any visitors these days. I’m beginning to forget I’m still a predator. Nice to meet you guys. Bu already trusts you like family. He’s not making any mistakes, is he?
He indiscreetly flashes his knife-sharp teeth as he quickly gulps up a few rainbow-colored fish swimming by.

My mouth opens to reply, and I take in saltwater. The whole switch of communication methods throws me a bit.
Bu is very important to me,
I think.
Rest assured, your dear friend is in good hands.
I swat away a handful of shrimp-like creatures who keep yelping in my ear.
Are we in Renhala or Abscondia? If we’re in Abscondia, how is this room possible? I can’t even see the walls.
The strange, dizzy feeling remains, but is less pronounced as I float in the water.

SharkBoy answers:
This may be hard to understand, but you’re in both. This is a small piece of Renhala residing in your realm. Your friend Gunthreon is a very powerful man, and is capable of many a thing, such as this.
My feeler senses a bit of fear at the mention of Gunthreon.
My waters were once threatened by some very nasty poachers, and Gunthreon did what he could for me, for a price of course. I owed him my kingdom for what he did.
He laughs to himself.
Well I guess I kind of gave it to him, didn’t I? After all, we are all in his second-floor apartment. Me and my kingdom.
He holds out a fin to the many creatures floating distantly around him.

How long have you been here?
Conner thinks.

Bu stops playing tag with a fish that reminds me of my neighbor
’s Scottish terrier. He answers,
He’s here long time.

SharkBoy nods.
I’d have to say since long before you were all born, but I continue to be called SharkBoy.
He nods toward Bu.
I may look young to you, but I’ve lost many a tooth
.
             

I think back to elementary school science, and the day we studied sharks.
I’d say you still have many more years to live,
I think
.
Hundreds, probably.
I have to ask—do you feel the recent imbalance, too, living between realms?

His head drops, and his expression is one of great sadness.
I was hoping it was just some effect from living as I do, but I would have to say something bad is happening. We sea creatures can no longer feel the cradling hands of Neda. Something is definitely wrong. Being the predator I am, I no longer feel as prey-driven as I should. I settle for eating this.
With his fin, he
pulls out a bunch of seaweed from a coral bed next to him and munches on it.
Aside from Neda distancing itself, I must admit Velopa’s pull has weakened, or even disappeared.

This puzzles me, as well as Conner, from the expression on his face.
I thought Velopa’s army was becoming stronger? Wouldn’t you feel Velopa more than ever?
I think.

You would think so.
SharkBoy swims next to Bu and rubs up against him like a beloved pet. Bu giggles like a child and pets SharkBoy’s dorsal fin.
We are relying on Gunthreon, and your group, to find some answers. After meeting you, Kailey, I can sense something extraordinary in you—something capable of finding us answers.

Suddenly, SharkBoy raises his stub-for-a-nose and almost seems to be sniffing the water. He swims over to me, and I realize it
’s the side with my pocket stuffed with anchovy pizza.

If Bu wants to share, I believe you might enjoy this,
I think.
I pull the pizza out of the baggie and let it float in the water before me. SharkBoy’s eyes widen, and he turns to Bu. Bu simply nods. Instead of devouring the pizza in one huge gulp, SharkBoy somehow breaks tiny pieces of the pizza off and lets them sit in his mouth a bit. 

I absolutely love these tiny fish. They
’re my favorite! So salty. See, you’ve won over me
and
my loyalty already.
He winks at me yet again.
Someone else approaches.
The door opens and closes almost simultaneously as Ladimer steps inside. SharkBoy bows, as much as a shark can.
Hello, and welcome to my home. Am I safe in assuming you are Ladimer, the Giver?
 

You are absolutely correct, and thank you for not eating me upon entry, King Xotylenan.
Ladimer then proceeds to speak to SharkBoy in what sounds like whalespeak, or something close to it. Whatever it is, it’s very loud. I wonder how many enemies Ladimer must really have, and whether he made SharkBoy, too.

I swim over to Bu and ask if he
’s ready to go back to air-breathing. He shrugs his large shoulders and says, telepathically, goodbye to SharkBoy, who says,
Until later, my friend. Come see me again, all of you.
He turns to face Ladimer.
I will get word to you if I hear or see anything.

Ladimer speaks to SharkBoy,
Thank you, dear king. Shall we go, guys?
He pats Bu on the back and thinks a goodbye to SharkBoy as I cover my ears, which does no good whatsoever.

The exit out of SharkBoy
’s kingdom happens quickly, and I feel my neck to make sure the gills aren’t permanent. I consider how weird the transition was and how dry it actually is in Gunthreon’s apartment, almost enough to make my nose bleed.

Chapter 49

Fiery

Ladimer leads us back down the hallway to Gunthreon and Lupa, comfortably sprawled out on a couch. Turns out Gunthreon, quite the movie buff, has his own small movie theater, with squishy reclining chairs, a giant movie screen, and personalized popcorn bowls. Lupa is already in her pajamas, flipping through pay-per-view movies as Gunthreon once more scans a map.

“Just no sappy love stories, please,” says Ladimer pleadingly. “I didn’t bring my Kleenex.”

“Or scary movie
s,” adds Bu.

After searching through Gunthreon
’s plethora of movies, we all decide on watching
Chocolat
. We fit two chairs together for Bu, and he climbs in and covers up with an Elmo blanket he keeps here at Gunthreon’s. I climb into my own comfy chair and snuggle what I think is a down pillow, until it starts to turn warm where I lay my head. I pick my head up and feel it with my hand, and it indeed becomes warm where my hand touches the pillow.

“Phoenix feathers,” Gunthreon s
tates with a smile.

“So I
’m gonna be, like, sleeping here and my head might catch on fire? No thanks.”

“It is only the bird
’s will that controls the explosion,” says Gunthreon. “Your hair is not going to start on fire. It’s your choice. Use it or pass it on.”

Ladimer, seated to my left, reaches over to me. “I
’ll take it,” he says.

I consider the probability of my hair catching on fire and decide that the novelty of sleeping on warming feathers is worth it. “Sorry, I
’m keeping it.”

“Good luck,” he tease
s, reclining his chair.

I snuggle in my pillow and turn my body in the opposite direction, toward Conner. He stares at me, and I at him, then he closes his eyes. 
             

I turn again, adjusting my body, trying to get comfortable in the chair, but just cannot seem to.

Gunthreon sees my struggle and then gets up and offers his hand. “I can take you to your room if you like,” he says. I take his hand, and make sure to snatch up my pillow, as Ladimer was moving in a little too close.

Gunthreon leads me to a room, at once luxurious and homey-comfortable, something I never thought possible. Bamboo sheets adorn the king-sized bed, brushing against my skin with their coolness as I climb in, but they warm to me quickly. The room smells o
f fresh flowers, though there are none in sight. One dimly lit nightlight glows on the nightstand, tossing stars along the ceiling, reminiscent of a lamp I remember having as a toddler.

“Goodnight, Kailey. Sweet dreams.” He eyes me for a moment. “Remember your meditation techniques.”

I’m out before he closes the door.

*********

“He’s starting to resist!”

“Make him finish it. If you do not, prepare to live your life in constant agonizing pain, your only relief from the thought of possible death.” 

The familiar voice makes my eyes pop open. I find myself standing outside a castle in my pajamas, below some open windows. As I rise up to sneak a glance, I see the all-too-familiar hooded cloak, its owner sitting at a desk, apparently staring at some parchment sprawled across his desk and not the meeple standing before him, which rolls its eyes. It begins to leave the room, but then turns around and simply says, “And the girl is almost at her peak.” It turns and leaves the room, slamming the door behind itself.

Devoten then stands an
d walks toward the window, in my direction. I crouch down as low as possible, then crawl to the next window, which is also open, and slowly rise to look inside. I gasp and cover my mouth before any sound escapes it. There before me is a haggard figure, stirring a giant cauldron of what looks like molten metal over a giant fire. Mortimer stirs with both hands, his eyes white with only the occasional flicker of color that I recognize as consciousness.

“Mortimer,” I say in a soft voice. “Mortimer. Mortimer!” The last is a hushed scream, and his eyes flicker as he turns toward me.

“Kailey?”

The door to his room opens and the meeple enters. I sink down low
, my eyes peeking in through the corner of the window. “You almost done?” it asks.  

“Um, I don
’t know.”

“Dumb creature. How could you not know?”

Mortimer’s voice trembles. “I told you already, I don’t—” His speech turns to a blood-curdling cry as the meeple sticks his talon into Mortimer’s ear.

“You
’d better finish, or next time, this will slice your head in two.”

Mortimer
’s scream turns to sobbing as the meeple leaves the room, once again slamming the door behind itself.

I rise a bit and speak to Mortimer as he stands at the cauldron. “Oh, Mortimer. What are you doing?” I
ask. “Come on. Come with me. I can transport you to safety.” But he just continues stirring. “Mortimer!”

He looks up, then shakes his head. “They
’ll always find me,” he says. Almost on cue, his eyes turn white again, and he is lost to me. I slump down to the ground, searching for a solution. If Devoten has Mortimer, I fear that Velopa’s weapon armory may be complete. If only I could find Neda on my own search.
Soulsearch.
Sudden thoughts of Gernwood and my attempt at finding my mom come to mind as I realize it almost came to fruition.  

Just as I
’m about to close my eyes and reach for Neda, I’m interrupted by a loud explosion and footsteps running to and fro. I crawl toward the sound and look through one more window, where I see the giant metal contraption I spotted the doctor and Tartarin working on during my nighttime trip four days ago. But it’s not the same place. They’re moving it.
Why?
             

Grebles and meeples run around terrified as Devoten steps slowly into the room, with what looks like a human, uniformed soldier—the letters UFOE embroidered across his chest. They are untouched by the chaos around them. “He
’s done. Bring him in,” says Devoten, his energy suddenly shooting across the room and grabbing me firmly. Sudo-abominor, most likely excited by the pandemonium and fear, is aroused and sensed me almost immediately. “We must also deal with our infestation problem—a particularly nosy little fluffmouse!” With that, he points at me.

As he starts stealthily running toward me, I hunker down, trying to rip off the energy that
’s squeezing me tightly. I send out my own energy from within, trying to fight against sudo-abominor. As my energy pushes outward, it struggles in vain, so I will myself to have the courage to do something heroic, and quickly. I don’t know Neda’s energy, but in hoping my karmelean beacon works, I take my own nervously-hyped energy and blast it with all my might outward, waiting for something to recognize a fragment of me and pull me in.

Seconds before Devoten grasps me over the windowsill, I find myself transported.

I appear in the middle of an open, dusty, vacant field, nothing around me except some longer, dried-out grass and wilted plants. The air is devoid of moisture, and the two orange suns seem to battle for dominance, taking turns spitting solar flares toward the other. “Hello?!” I yell, but nobody responds. “Anybody?” I spin around to nothing but the same golden-hued land stretching beyond my sight in all directions.

I sit on the ground and
close my eyes a moment before traveling and think of Gunthreon and the cozy bed I left with those stars shining above me. My mind begins relaxing, thinking threads of thoughts.
Stars along the ceiling. Stars that chase away a toddler’s fear of gruesome monsters. Monsters that could hurt you and eat you alive. Monsters that bleed black ooze. Monsters that now threaten to destroy the new generation of children. Amber’s child.
Tears trickle down my cheeks and drip into the dried grass as I make a decision to carry on in my search—to not run, but to have confidence in my abilities.

To my amazement, small, delicate flowers of all colors begin to sprout where my tears have fallen, filling the barren land with life.

But before I can marvel any longer, I am suddenly beneath Gunthreon’s stars again, sprawled across the bed. I sit up, sensing someone else’s energy in the room with me. Gunthreon sits motionless in the armchair across from the bed, staring at me.

“Gunthreon, you scared me!” I s
putter.

He sits still, dark in the shadows. “Where did you go this time, Kailey?”

I smell a hint of accusation in his voice and it makes me fidget in bed. “He has Mortimer!” I exclaim. “And the UFOE are involved!”

“Who has Mortimer?”

“Devoten!”

“Visited Devoten again, eh, Kailey?” he says. “It seems you know a lot for such
brief
travels.” He hesitates and his energy begins rippling, slowly turning to larger waves of hot fire. “Don’t dig too deep...without reinforcements. I’d hate to find out this is a trap of some sort—a camouflaged abyss. It would be most unpleasant for those involved, don’t you think? One wrong step, and you’ll find
yourself
falling. I think it best we don’t mention this to the others.” His energy sizzles and ebbs.

I sit, totally befuddled. Not knowing where he
’s going with this, I just agree. He gets up and leaves the room, not making a sound, and as he stands in the doorway, he seems to grow in size, looming above me. Then he’s gone.

I spend my time lying there, with my eyes open, too afraid to sleep, thoughts of deception twirling like a tornado in my head. The single word
informant
brings pain to my stomach as I lie, considering possible motives for each and every being around me.

When the sun rises, it comes with fear of what the shadows hide.