Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (19 page)

Read Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) Online

Authors: Rebecca Moesta,Kevin J. Anderson

Tags: #JUV037000

BOOK: Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2)
13.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Lyssandra saw the armored sea creature plodding toward the reef, carrying another load of lavaja containers. She felt a flutter of relief and a thrill of anticipation as she watched Vic and Gwen coming closer. Ready to play her role, she casually sidled over to where the numerous restless kraegas had been imprisoned in a coral cage.

AT THE CRACKS, THE lavaja glow burned upward into the water, filling the currents with impurities that made it difficult for Sharif’s and Tiaret’s gills to breathe. The acrid taste of molten aja infused the water, and the acid glow — so different from the warm illumination of Piri’s crystal eggsphere — pierced Sharif’s heart. Somewhere down there in the blazing liquid magic, his lovely nymph djinni had dissolved. Maybe in a last gesture of defiance she had blazed some of her own beautiful light into this furious glow that bubbled up from beneath the surface. . . .

Because he had shown an affinity for the great flying jhanta, Blackfrill let Sharif ride the mantalike creature, as long as he proved himself by harvesting more potent lavaja than anyone else. Riding its back, nudging it with his knees and tugging its wing-fins, he was able to guide the jhanta close to the hot cracks and scoop up crucibles of the most intense bubbling lavaja faster than any other workers could. Orpheon foolishly believed that by throwing Piri into the molten crack, he had crushed Sharif’s will to resist. The young man from Irrakesh intended to show him his folly.

Tethered closer to the gaping, ever-widening cracks of shifting lavaja, Tiaret labored hard. The muscles on her brown arms flexed as she swung a long pole, dipping a heat-treated scoop into the churning molten crystal and dumping it into the wide mouth of the insulated crucible. Seeing how hard she worked, her lips drawn back, her teeth clenched, Sharif thought Tiaret must surely be sweating even underwater. Though he resented the labors forced on him by the merlons, it seemed that Tiaret had discovered an important thing: The harder the humans worked, the less attentive the merlon guards became.

After delivering a crucible of particularly potent lavaja, Sharif took the jhanta back out. But instead of heading toward the dangerous zone, they stayed close to Tiaret now. Gracefully flapping its winglike fins, the large jhanta dropped lower. The hook hanging beneath the harness dangled just above the large crucible. As Tiaret added a last scoop of lavaja, the jhanta moved forward to hook the handle of the crucible. Then, straining against the hot currents, the creature rose up and carried its shimmering cargo away. Tiaret looked over her shoulder toward the laboratory area where the anemonites worked. Sharif also watched.

Gwen and Vic had departed more than an hour ago. Both he and Tiaret knew the cousins would act soon, triggering a sequence of events that, if all went as planned, could not be stopped. The signal would be unmistakable. Moment by moment, Sharif and Tiaret waited for their dangerous freedom.

A FEW MERLON SLAVES came forward to assist with the heavy delivery as Vic and Gwen directed their lavaja-laden turtle toward the jellyfish-brains near their tall experimental apparatus. Blackfrill watched, looming over them with his pointed trident in one hand and Tiaret’s teaching staff in the other. Working from anemonite diagrams, merlon constructors had finished building the reinforced lavaja tower with its troughs and a wide reservoir on top. It reminded Gwen of the unusual water clock in Elantya’s central square.

As soon as the tank at the top of the experimental tower was completely filled with a large volume of the magical substance, the anemonites would be expected to work their new spell to intensify the already powerful lavaja. At least, that was what the merlon king expected. Gwen knew, though, that the merlons could never be allowed to possess a super-potent form of lavaja. All of Elantya was at stake.

General Blackfrill swam forward, though certainly not to help. Noting that Lyssandra had surreptitiously gone over to the kraega cage to stand ready, Gwen made her way to the tall structure and prepared to open the lavaja reservoir, as the merlons expected.

Vic grinned as he brought the turtle to a halt among the merlon workers. The anemonites clustered together as if working on a difficult technical problem. Everything was ready. Gwen gave a slight nod to her cousin, who turned to Blackfrill. “Hey, General! Here’s the big delivery you’ve been waiting for.”

Instead of carefully lifting the large container of lavaja to the waiting merlon slaves, as he had done so many times before, he tore off the lid and, using both feet, gave the barrel a hard shove. The container teetered, tipped, then dumped its blazing cargo out among the merlons, who scattered. The sea turtle jerked and backed up in alarm. Vic knocked over the second container of lavaja, dumping superheated magical ooze across the ground. Blinding light flooded upward like a signal flare.

As soon as her cousin began to move, so did Gwen. She ripped at the pulleys and chains in the experimental tower, releasing the emergency latch beneath the mostly-full reservoir, and large quantities of lavaja gushed out like boiling oil, eating into the supports so that the whole construction began to topple.

The blaze grew brighter. Lavaja spilled and exploded. She and Vic swam away from the dazzling blasts as furiously as they could.

Then the real mayhem began.

IN THE DISTANCE THE bright glow from the anemonites’ reef acted as a signal flare. Though he had been expecting it, Sharif was startled by the brilliance of the blaze and the erupting flash. He should have known not to underestimate the power of the lavaja. Their merlon work masters at the canyons also saw the distant flaring light and must have assumed something had gone wrong with the dangerous anemonite experiments.

While the guards were distracted for just a moment, Sharif went into action.

He nudged with his knees, and the great jhanta rose, carrying a heavy crucible on its hook toward the unsuspecting merlon guards. Sharif fumbled with the harness on the creature’s back, tilted the crucible, then released it. The whole crucible tipped and tumbled, pouring lavaja through the water onto the frantically scrambling merlons.

Straining her muscles, Tiaret pulled on the pole, swung her scoop around, and upended it to splatter hot lavaja on the nearest merlon guard, who had already begun to swim toward her, anticipating an escape attempt. She seized one of the guard’s daggers and slashed the seaweed tether on her ankle.

The merlons went wild. Many were gravely burned, others blinded, all of them bewildered. Guiding the great jhanta with his ankles and knees, Sharif swooped downward. Tiaret extended her hand, and Sharif reached down, grasped her, and pulled her up beside him onto the sea creature’s back. Together, before the merlon guards could stop them, the two raced off to help their friends.

WHEN THE REEF LABORATORY burst into a display of light and magic, Lyssandra grabbed at the bars of the kraega pen, working the latch. The eruption of molten crystal threw the merlons into crazed confusion. The cage’s latch bolt had been designed to prevent the weak jellyfish-brains from freeing their symbiotic partners, but Lyssandra had no difficulty opening the rough gate.

“Now!” she shouted. “Anemonites! It is time.”

Though they did not understand what was happening, the kraega steeds knew enough to lunge for their freedom. Dozens of them boiled out of the pen and scrambled to find their anemonite partners.

Puttering as best they could with their clipped frills, the anemonites raced toward their beloved kraegas, which could carry them away at far greater speed than they could hope to swim. Finding their steeds, anemonites began to flit off a few at a time in different directions.

“Go!” Lyssandra cried. “Now is your chance. Get away!”

As the lavaja began to cool, dwindling to an orange and then a red glow, she saw Vic and Gwen near the dense seaweed forest. Lyssandra concentrated on shepherding the anemonites in their escape.

21

 

EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING SCATTERED.

Just like in one of those prison break movies Vic loved to watch. Even before the blazing spilled lavaja began to cool down, anemonites on their large lobsterlike steeds flashed off into the depths.

Vic’s heart pounded. This was even better than he had imagined! His strange gills pumped water as if he were panting from running a marathon. He and Gwen had to get to safety now that they had set all their plans in motion. They couldn’t just huddle by the seaweed and watch. Their chaotic diversion was bold and unexpected, and might just buy them enough time to break free. “Lyssandra, come with us!” Vic shouted.

The petite girl gestured with her hands, rushing more anemonites away from the wreckage of the test tower. “I must get them to safety! I will join you if I can. If not, I will make my own way to Elantya.”

Gwen grabbed Vic’s arm. “Sharif and Tiaret must be coming by now. Let’s get to our meeting place.”

“But Lyssandra —” he began.

The coppery-haired girl gestured him away. “Do not worry about me. We all know what to do.”

“Come on, Taz, we’ve got to take advantage of the confusion,” Gwen said, tugging on his arm. “Lyssandra can take care of herself. She knows to meet us at the wreck of the Walrus if she can. We all saw where it was.”

Even with the blazing sparks and mayhem swirling all around them, Vic knew they didn’t have much time. “All right. Be careful, Lyssandra!” He and his cousin plunged into the waving forest of thick doolya at the edge of the anemonite holding area.

Blackfrill had been singed by the first flash of unleashed lavaja magic. His scales were discolored, his eyes milky and temporarily blinded. Even so, the new merlon general bellowed for his guards, most of whom were disoriented and injured. Blackfrill thrashed wildly around the reef laboratory zone in search of something he could tear to shreds with his clawed hands.

Sharks torpedoed in toward the now-empty kraega enclosure, prowling around for anemonites. Trying to regain control of his forces, the merlon general waved his trident and ordered the sharks to find the escaped scientists. But three sharks could not round up fifty escaped anemonites, not to mention Vic, Gwen, and Lyssandra. Most of them would escape.

Weaving their way through the shadowy seaweed, the frantic cousins made a break for it, cutting far from Lavaja Canyon and the holding reef of the anemonites. Vic swam vigorously, and Gwen kept pace with every stroke.

Oddly, he remembered the story about the background for Guise Night, when Sage Therya, on the run from evil pursuers, had been hidden by helpful strangers, who kept her alive. He wasn’t sure how many helpful strangers they would find here under the sea. . . .

Instinctively following the directions they had memorized, Vic and Gwen darted over the uneven ocean floor. Far in the distance, the lavaja cracks still cast a ruddy glow into the water. Out there, Vic was sure that Sharif and Tiaret had arranged for as much chaos as he and his cousin had caused when releasing the anemonites.

Far ahead, Vic at last spotted the slumped hulk of the sunken ship. The Golden Walrus! The keel and ribs forming its hull remained intact. Planks enclosed a cavernous protective structure where many types of fish, mollusks, and sea plants now made their homes.

Still fleeing, Gwen stroked harder, pulling ahead. Vic had mixed feelings at the sight of the broken hull. It hadn’t been so long ago when he and Gwen, still new to Elantya, had sailed with their friends on that beautiful cargo ship to learn both practical and magical nautical skills. One terrifying night a swarm of flying piranhas had stripped the Golden Walrus almost bare, shredding the sails and rigging. After Gwen and Sharif had left on the flying carpet to get help, the merlons returned with a full-fledged attack. Vic, Tiaret, and Lyssandra had fought back furiously, using spells as well as makeshift weapons to drive back the enemy. By the time the Elantyan navy arrived to rescue them, the Golden Walrus was mortally wounded, doomed and sinking.

“I never thought I’d see the Walrus again,” Vic said. “Let’s hope it keeps us safer than it did when we were students on board.”

The once majestic vessel had come to rest in the muck on the ocean floor. Several huge holes marked where planks had been shattered. Strewn about the sandy sea floor around the sunken wreck, Vic spotted a few human skeletons, picked clean by carnivorous fish — most likely crewmembers who had died in the struggle against the merlons or the flying piranhas. Vic hoped they were resting in peace.

He and Gwen swam through one of the gaping holes into the cargo hold of the wrecked ship, to hide and wait for their friends. Now their pursuers could not see them, unless one of the merlons thought to look here specifically. The two cousins drifted deeper into the murk, catching their liquid breath and waiting.

Not much useful remained in the vessel. They found no possessions abandoned by the students or crew, no packaged food in the storehouse lockers, only scraps of rope, rusty metal chains with a patina of algae, and slimy wood.

Vic grasped a cross-beam, recalling the Walrus as it had been when it was a learning vessel — solid and comfortable and dry. Dry seemed to be a very strange concept right now.

Drifting and resting, Gwen peered out through a ragged hole in the hull, keeping watch. Before long, she said, “I see something moving out there, and it’s coming straight toward us.”

“Is it Blackfrill? I bet he sent out sea serpents and sharks to hunt for us.” Vic pushed closer to see.

“No, the shape is different — oh, it’s the great jhanta!”

Other books

Brother Wind by Sue Harrison
Papillon by Henri Charriere
Heart Quest by Robin D. Owens
Diamonds in the Shadow by Caroline B. Cooney
Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand by Michael G. Thomas
Prince of Scorpio by Alan Burt Akers
A History of New York by Washington Irving