Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (11 page)

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” He glanced over at Tiaret, Sharif, and Lyssandra, all of whom wore stoic looks, as if they had seen worse before and steeled themselves against this. Lyssandra’s face, however, had paled by several shades, and Vic was starting to learn to read her face for emotional responses as surely as Piri indicated hers by glowing in various colors.

Vic reached out and put a hand on Lyssandra’s and saw the color gradually seep back into her face. He was glad that they could draw strength from each other. As long as the five friends stayed together, he was sure that they could survive and find a way to escape. Now that there were new merlon generals, however, it brought the next attack on Elantya that much closer.

Blackfrill and Goldskin swam up before the king, giving Vic a better view of the yawning pink mouths of the sea serpents than he had ever wanted. The blood in the water seemed to have made them hungry for more fighting.

“Congratulations, my two new generals.” Barak seemed smug. He presented Blackfrill with Tiaret’s teaching staff and gave Goldskin an ornate seashell dagger that looked wickedly sharp. “You will train our other soldiers. Arm yourselves with the best weapons and armor.” The merlon king turned his eyes toward Azric. “And you, Azric — use your powers of persuasion to encourage those anemonites to work harder. I have never seen jellyfish brains move so slowly! We need more weapons! We need breakthroughs. I command it. Torture a few more of them if they do not cooperate. Better yet, send Orpheon to do it.”

“Do not forget, King Barak, that we now have two seal-breakers,” Azric pointed to Vic and Gwen. “They can give us access to my armies — a stronger weapon than any other we possess.”

“We’re not giving you access to anything,” Vic said.

Azric’s eyes shone with a look Vic could not interpret. “We shall see. You will change your minds soon enough.”

11

WHEN THE DEBRIS FROM the joust was cleaned up, the merlon king left his open throne hall and retired to his chambers.

Now that Barak would no longer scold him, Orpheon returned to the hall, swimming in like one of the small fish that darted around the arches. Azric, who had summoned him, looked at their intimidated captives. “It’s time for us to get to work, Orpheon. I am only interested in the two seal-breakers.” He gave Vic and Gwen an avid smile that Vic did not find at all comforting. “You can take the other three and do whatever you wish — so long as you remember they may still be useful to me.”

Orpheon ran an assessing gaze over them with a smug expression that held an edge of cruelty. “I cannot tell you how long I have anticipated this.” He leveled an index finger at Sharif, Tiaret, and Lyssandra. “You — come with me. Now.”

Vic gulped. He wasn’t sure what would be worse, being stuck with Azric, or with his traitorous assistant. As his three friends reluctantly moved to join Orpheon, prodded by merlon guards, Vic noticed that Tiaret’s amber eyes glinted with defiant challenge, Lyssandra looked wrung-out, and Sharif shielded himself with a look of haughty disdain. Orpheon knew that he had the upper hand. “Forget all thoughts of that weakling Rubicas. I will show you what a real sage can do. I am your master now.”

Merlon warriors accompanied by electric eels administered brief shocks of “encouragement,” driving the three out to where guardian sharks circled them. Orpheon ordered each human to hold on to the dorsal fin of a shark, which pulled them along at great speeds through the water. As they were whisked away, Lyssandra, Tiaret, and Sharif turned to exchange anxious looks with the cousins. None of them could stop what was happening.

After their companions were gone from the hall of the merlon king, Vic swallowed again. “He wouldn’t kill them, would he?”

“I don’t think so,” Gwen said. “He’s too in love with the idea of being their master. On the other hand, I doubt he’d hesitate to hurt them.”

“Perhaps you should be more concerned for yourselves.” Azric now floated before the cousins, fixing them with the discomfiting green-and-blue stare of his mismatched eyes. “We have so much to learn together. No one else can teach you the skills that I offer.”

“What do you want with us?” Gwen asked.

Azric wore a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Right now, all I want is your cooperation.”

Vic snorted, water swirls streaming from his nose. “Now why does ‘cooperation’ sound like such a bad word coming from you?”

Azric made a burbling, tsking sound. “Such harsh judgment coming from someone I barely know.”

“First of all, we’ve heard enough stories about you to have an opinion,” Gwen said. “Second, you killed my parents. That’s all I need to know.”

Azric spread his hands as if to say it was only natural. “I never intended to harm them. I merely needed your mother’s assistance in a matter of great importance to me. She would have come to no harm had she merely complied with my request. But they resisted me, she and your father. They chose to sacrifice themselves battling against forces they couldn’t possibly defeat, rather than just do me a very small favor.” The dark sage gave what appeared to be a sincerely helpless shrug. “So I had no alternative, you see. I didn’t really have anything against them.”

Though her neck gills still drew in water, Gwen found herself breathless and speechless at this casual description of her parents’ death.

“And what about Gwen?” Vic’s angry words lashed out like a whip. “Dad told us you’re the one who made that killer whale attack her at Ocean Kingdoms. She could have died!”

Floating in a relaxed position with his legs crossed, Azric pressed his fingertips together. “To be sure, to be sure, but that was hardly my intent. It was really more of a test, you see. I knew, of course, that your mothers were Kyara and Fyera. I had done my homework. You know —

Born beneath the selfsame moon,

Only they may bind the rune,

And create the Ring of Might,

Right the wrongs, reverse the rite.

Sharing blood, yet not the womb,

Two shall seal the tyrant’s doom.

Darkest Sage, in darkest day,

With his blood the price shall pay.

“I could not be certain that you were the children of the prophecy. One of the problems with such flowery predictions is that they never mean quite what you think they do. Why, you’re not even brother and sister, and I was searching for twins! I needed to find out if the two of you had inherited any of your mothers’ powers, or if you were merely normal children.”

“We’re not children,” Vic growled.

Gwen crossed her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from his ruthlessness. “And what if I had turned out to be just a normal girl?”

Azric shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Why, then you would have died. However, you would have been of no use to me, so it would not have mattered.” He seemed almost surprised at her question. “But why worry about what might have been? You reacted exactly as I had hoped — and you lived.” He gave a watery, dismissive wave. “So, other than that, what have I done to earn your mistrust?”

“Besides kidnapping us all, you mean?” Vic quipped.

“According to the stories, you murdered your own parents, too, so that you could have all the power for yourself,” Gwen said.

Azric did not take offense. “If you have read the legends, then you know my parents were evil. True tyrants.”

“And you’re not?” Vic replied.

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Trust me, you’re not the most objective judge. Sharif says you killed his brother —”

Again, Azric used that maddening come-come-now-let’s-be-reasonable tone. “Why dwell in the past? We’ve all made a few missteps along the way.”

“Yup. I skipped a class at school once,” Vic said. “Not exactly the same ballpark as murder.”

“Perhaps, but neither have you spent thousands of years dwelling in many other worlds and amassing great wisdom. My hard-earned knowledge assures me now that you are the children of the prophecy. Therefore, I require your help.”

“The question is, what makes you think we’d go along with anything you want?” Gwen said. “I don’t see any reason to help you.”

The dark sage gave them a kindly smile. “Why, I thought you would grasp the most obvious reason right away: if you don’t cooperate, I will be forced to kill your three friends.”

12

WHEN SHARIF, LYSSANDRA, AND Tiaret were separated from their other two friends, they had a terrible uneasy feeling. Four merlon guards stroked along beside them, always ready to deliver a painful shock with their accompanying electric eels. Sharif wanted to comfort Piri, to stroke her eggsphere and somehow communicate with her that they would find a way out of this.

He couldn’t believe the merlons had not snatched his beautiful djinni from him. She hung on his chest inside her mesh sack. Everyone could see her, especially when she glowed her wonderful colors. The merlon king had taken Tiaret’s teaching staff from Orpheon, but somehow Piri hadn’t intrigued him enough. And as for Orpheon and Azric, they hadn’t given the eggsphere a second glance. Maybe they did not think it was of any use. Still, Sharif felt very vulnerable with her. Someone could snatch his precious djinni at any moment.

Beside them, leading the group away from the merlon city, Orpheon swam like an eel. With his shape-shifting powers, he had transformed his hands into wide webbed scoops like a merlon’s, and his body moved with rubbery undulations as he twirled through the water.

Sharif could tell by Tiaret’s body language that she very much wanted to fight and make a good accounting of herself, but he didn’t see that they had any chance of escaping. Neither he nor his friends could ever outswim the sharks or merlons. If they could, it would have meant leaving Gwen and Vic behind. On the other hand, if even one of them managed to get away, they could warn the Elantyans of the situation, and the sages could figure out a way to rescue them.

And, Sharif told himself, one of us escaping is better than none of us escaping. But no opportunity presented itself.

“Where are we going?” Lyssandra asked after the sharks had borne them beyond view of the ethereal undersea city.

Orpheon’s eyes were dark and hungry. “We can always use new workers at Lavaja Canyon.” His laughter made a bubbling sound beneath the water. “It will be marvelous even for the merlon slaves to watch you do all the work. I wonder how long you pampered children will last.”

Tiaret did not rise to the bait. “Time will tell.”

Orpheon turned his evil smile toward Sharif. “The thing I most look forward to is breaking this spoiled prince. He needs to learn that his social position is an illusion. We will teach him that lesson in a way he will never forget.”

Sharif decided that it would be unworthy of him to answer. Instead, he took comfort from Piri’s presence in the mesh pouch around his neck.

Their merlon escorts led them swiftly through warm currents and down a slope, skimming not far above the ocean floor. Ahead, a hot, shimmering light rose from the seabed, as if the sandy floor were on fire. Orpheon extended a webbed hand. “Even from this distance, you can see the power boiling out of Lavaja Canyon. The power of the magic there can easily bring about the end of Elantya, if it is channeled properly.” The fanatical merlon guards seemed very pleased at the prospect.

Lyssandra looked deeply troubled. “This is not natural — a wound in the world. I dreamed about this. The waves of energy make me feel sick inside, as if something is wrong with the magic.”

Sharif noticed the strange sensation, too. The water felt tainted somehow from the volatilized crystal.

Orpheon smiled. “Yes, a fascinating effect, isn’t it?”

Soon they came close enough to see down to the yawning fissures in the canyon floor. Jagged fractures in the crust reminded Sharif of a hatching egg. Bubbling silvery orange magma oozed along the cracks. The landscape seemed to be in flux, with splits zigzagging and opening up, while others sealed back together again.

The water had grown extremely warm and tingly, as if it were effervescent. Amazement replaced Lyssandra’s anxiety. “Is that lavaja, from fire aja crystals?”

The furious glow bronzed the traitor’s face. “Compared to this, fire aja is a mere spark beside a bonfire. Lavaja bubbles up like the blood of the world itself. The heat, the incandescence, and the magic come from the spirit of fire. We have tapped into a substance more pure and powerful than anything an Elantyan sage has ever dared use. This raw essence of power will help us defeat your weak island.”

As Sharif’s eyes adjusted to the bright glare, he saw many plain-looking merlons, definitely members of a lower class, probably slaves. Some of them rode giant sea turtles whose bodies were protected by leathery armor, their reptilian heads covered with horned plates. Metal blinders shielded the turtles’ eyes while the merlon slaves prodded them with sharp goads, making the lumbering creatures plod closer to the edge where lavaja bubbled up. Like pets on leashes, other slaves were tethered by thin cords of woven doolya to boulders embedded in the mud.

Wrestling with long poles, the merlon slaves maneuvered large heat-resistant buckets into the seething molten magic to scoop out lavaja. As soon as they were removed from the intensity of the cracks, the full crucibles were placed on the backs of turtles who plodded away with their dangerous deliveries.