Keystone

by Chloe Adler

  The tunnel twists and turns. Are we taking offshoots, or is the tunnel just this winding? After about twenty minutes of swimming, the water warms up a little—maybe ten degrees—reminding me of the numbness in my fingertips as they thaw. Up ahead there’s light, so much in fact that I startle and stop, bile flooding my throat. Some of the creatures ahead possess features nothing like Oceane’s alluring beauty. They are hideous with tentacles and large, alligator-shaped mouths that open and close, revealing huge gnashing teeth.

  Oceane stops too and turns around to swim back to me. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one will hurt you here. This is our sacred city.”

  Great, they’ll just kill me after I leave.

  She inclines her head and reaches out a hand. I don’t want to take it but if I don’t, she’ll think me rude, or worse, she’ll bruise my other arm. I clasp her outstretched hand. It’s ice-cold, significantly colder than the last time she grasped me, and the shock almost paralyzes me, my body stiffening. She propels me forward, swimming and pulling me along with her. When I let go, she doesn’t.

  The lights grow brighter and the walls of the cave widen. They’re covered with the same multicolored plants that grew outside the cave. Fish swarm and coral climbs from the floor, inching up the walls as we enter an enclosed city. Skyscraper-tall structures honeycombed with rock and coral stretch upward toward an open roof. Sunlight pours through the water above, basking the entire city in warm golden rays. The asrai, some as lovely as Oceane and others as grotesque as sea monsters, glide in and out of the honeycombed dwellings.

  “Welcome to Ceteapolis, home of the asrai,” Oceane, still clutching my hand, leads me to a dome-shaped structure with one large hole at the top and other smaller holes around it.

  We pass through the door and I gasp. The inside resembles an elaborate church with stained-glass windows, except that the walls teem with plant life, flowers of every color imaginable and thousands of brightly colored fish. The structure is full, with at least a hundred asrai. Some are merpeople like Oceane, but most are so varied—tentacles, scales, fins, glowy bits—I can’t begin to guess what they are. Long strands of lichen or seaweed crisscross the inside of the structure, and most of the asrai are holding on to parts of it, floating in place.

  All heads turn when we enter and Oceane escorts me to an area in the center with a long string of sea kelp dangling from the open roof. She passes my hand onto the kelp and I grab a hold of it. She clutches another strand next to me. As if it’s some sort of signal to begin, all faces turn to us and chaos breaks out. Questions rise up, such as “Who is she?” and “Why is she here?” Some people are yelling, their words incoherent. Others are confused but after a minute or two, without Oceane saying a word, silence settles over the hall.

  “As you know,” Oceane says, “this is Amaya, the special human. She did not seek us out. She fell into our ocean from Earth and I brought her here.”

  Murmuring commences and Oceane waits without motioning for them to stop. Yet as vigorous as conversation gets, it stops again within a minute. Is there some unseen signal telling them to cease? Once they do, she continues.

  “Amaya has promised not to divulge anything about our city or us on penalty of death.”

  “Did she swear with her blood?” one asrai cries out.

  “I used my magic to bind her,” says Oceane. “If she speaks our secrets to anyone, ever, she will die. She cannot escape it.”

  Something jibbers in fear inside me, but I say nothing. Do not piss off the horde of giant, tentacled nightmares, Amaya.

  “Why is she here?” asks a merman with golden scales for skin.

  “She is trying to convince me to help unbind Azotar from its monolith.”

  The entire crowd dissolves into a frenzy of anger.

  This time, Oceane holds up her hand to quiet them. “I brought her here to speak to all of you. As we agreed, long ago, I will not make a decision either way until everyone speaks their concerns.”

  More mumbles and cries.

  “Let her talk,” someone with a beard of tentacles for a face says. And they fall silent again, turning toward me.

  I don’t look at anyone in particular. Some are so angry, others hurt, their mouths wide open mouths and shoulders hunched. Those with identifiable shoulders, anyway. Instead I let my gaze drift to the colorful churning walls of their living cathedral, kicking my legs to stay in place as my body sways with the kelp.

  “You all want Azotar out of Tara, yes?” I ask.

  “Of course,” several asrai say in unison.

  “The first step to getting it out is to unbind it from the monolith.”

  “It arrived in the monolith,” cries a young female with a shark fin jutting from her forehead. “Why would unbinding it get it to leave?”

  “It might not,” I admit. “It almost escaped before, and if it does so again, of its own volition, it could make things much worse for everyone on Tara. But if we were to help it, with the understanding that we are doing so in order to give it a better life . . .” I push a strand of wayward hair from my face. “If it was able to leave right now and go back to the world it was banished to, it would be trapped there in its monolith in that world, unable to escape.”

  “So?” cries tentacle beard. “Why should that matter to us? It has no respect for our world or the inhabitants here. Send it back, make the he-she suffer.”

  “Think of the children!” another asrai cries out.

  I don’t have to agree to understand their confusion, prejudice and anger, but the injustice drives me closer to understanding Azotar’s. I’ve been discriminated against my entire life. Not for my choices but for the color of my skin, something I can’t hide from the world. Not that I’d want to. But I walk down the street and get pre-judged daily.

  “I would think you’d want something you don’t like, out of your lives forever. Am I wrong?” There’s no way I can change their minds, but I can appeal to their self-interest and help Azotar in the same breath, which also means helping my men and myself. If Betty hadn’t put this cursed spell on me, I would have probably tried to help Azotar anyway, but with the spell, I’m crunched for time. Every minute I spend debating morality with the asrai is another minute Betty has unfettered access to my men.

  “We want it gone. We can all agree on that,” Oceane says and everyone nods, their hair and various appendages flowing and swaying in agreement.

  I snag the opening she gives me. “It won’t leave if it’s bound to its monolith. If I can get its agreement—”

  “Its word means nothing here. It lies and deceives.” Tentacle beard again. That one’s got a real hard-on for Azotar, it seems.

  “But I don’t,” I snap. I should be more diplomatic, but I’m cold, I’m naked, my arm hurts, and I may never eat sushi again. “I’m giving you my word I won’t let anyone unbind it until I’m sure it will leave. And once the fachan is unbound, I will make it leave if necessary.” How, I’m still not sure. Hopefully Oceane or someone can give me pointers when the time comes. But I’m not admitting that to this crowd.

  “And if it doesn’t?” someone asks.

  “I told her before,” Oceane says. “If she fails, she will die.”

  Murmurs rise up again. Some voices are loud, while others remain whisper-soft. Oceane’s head is cocked, listening to them. She’s not letting them talk in order to calm themselves, she’s letting them talk because she is gauging their consensus.

  After several minutes, she turns back to me. “Yes, we accept your life in exchange. Once unbound, the fachan must leave immediately.”

  The “or else” goes without saying.

  Chapter Six

  “How can I get back to the surface of Tara?” I ask Oceane quietly. I don’t want to risk swimming through the terrifying asrai on my own.

  “I will bring you back.”

  “How can I breathe outside of the ocean? The last time I was breathing water . . .”

  “I will help you.” I do not
like the smile she flashes me but what choice do I have? She reaches for my hand, and reluctantly, I clasp it, letting go of the kelp frond.

  No one says goodbye as we backtrack through the tunnels that led us here. She stops before the way gets too tight and I grab her tail and let her lead until we’re no longer in Ceteapolis. Together we rise to the open water above. When we break the surface, her hair shimmers bright, almost fluorescent in the sunlight.

  “Try to breathe,” she says, her voice more human and less melodic outside of the water.

  I open my mouth a tiny bit and sip the air but there’s no room in my lungs for it to go. I close my mouth and shake my head.

  I start to dive under, trying to get my head back into the water to breathe, but those damn hands of hers dart out and grab me. Her grip is too tight and I can’t move as she pulls me closer. I try to speak but only a croaking sound escapes. I push and shake my head from side to side. I kick my feet in the water, trying to swim away.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” she whispers, her eyes gleaming as she leans her head close to mine.

  Those sharp piranha teeth say otherwise, but since I can’t get away, I close my eyes.

  In a flash, her lips are on mine and I startle again, trying to move away, but her lips are tight to mine, sucking on my mouth, holding me fast. Her cold tongue enters, prying my mouth open wider. I always assumed that kissing another woman would be warm and soft. This is anything but. I try and force my mouth closed but her tongue has superhuman strength and she holds my mouth open.

  Then my lungs begin to drain. She sucks the water out and it feels like my lungs are collapsing. I struggle to breathe and air immediately replaces the water but from where? Her lungs? A second set that contains air? Must be. My body goes limp in her arms as I greedily suck in all that she offers. The kiss changes, her mouth and body warming and the kiss softening. The suction disappears once the flow of water and air between us is easy, her lips dragging hungrily along mine. I don’t pull away. I may not be a lesbian, but at this moment, she’s my only chance for survival out of water.

  Her tongue softens, exploring instead of demanding. I fall into the kiss, surprising myself, caught off-guard but so grateful for the warmth she offers in the cold and the small moment of pleasure to blot out some of the pain. It lasts only a few moments and then she breaks the kiss. I blink at her, dazed.

  She smiles, a genuine grin that touches the corners of her eyes and lights up her beautiful face. “It’s easier if you give in to it, yes? Otherwise the retraining of your lungs can be very painful.”

  I’ve experienced that pain before and she’s not lying. “Yes, thank you.”

  She looks down into the depths below our feet. “Before we say goodbye . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand, but you have the ability to stitch the worlds together, pull Tara closer to Earth. It’s no small task, but there is no one else who can save us.” She rests a hand on my elbow, holding me up.

  “How do you know this?”

  “We are the oldest creatures here, the asrai. We are the keeper of all Taran magic and its secrets. Handed down from generation to generation.”

  I’m not sure how to respond. Cool, dude does not seem appropriate.

  She sighs, as if I’ve failed some important test. In her shoes, I suppose I’d be worried about placing the fate of my realm in a stranger’s hands too, but I get it. This will be hard. I will see it through anyway. It’s not like I’m going to fuck off to Starbucks instead or something. “One more thing. When you have the others and Azotar and it’s time . . .”

  I incline my head, waiting.

  “Sick your head under the water, any body of water in all of Tara, and call my true name.”

  “What is it?”

  She pushes my hair aside and whispers into my ear.

  Then she pulls away, holding my gaze. “It’s not to be used for any other reason, ever. Even if you’re dying. Understood?”

  “Or what?” I laugh.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Or I won’t come when you really do need me. Now it’s time to go.” She lifts her chin behind me.

  Thankfully, the shore is not far away, Vasily’s castle looming in the distance. And even better, someone familiar is waiting on the beach. “Vasily!”

  “Yes, your king awaits.”

  We swim together, side by side, and when we reach the beach, he smiles at us and walks into the surf, hand outstretched. “Well I see you two are getting to know one another. Splendid.” He pulls me forward out of the grasping water, throwing his arms around my naked, shivering body.

  “Your woman has dangerous ideas, King Vasily, but we are willing to negotiate if she can deliver on her promise.” Oceane salutes him, turns away, dives under the water and disappears with a flick of her tail.

  Chapter Seven

  “What’s going on? Why are you here? How did you—” My teeth chatter and Vasily stops my questions with a kiss, hard and long. Deep and raw. I press myself into him and he buries his tongue inside my mouth, exploring my depths. Opening to him, I tilt my head and groan. This is the exact kiss that I longed for, a kiss of pure love, safety and intimacy. Not like Oceane’s kiss, which was equal parts lust, domination and necessity. The kiss from Vasily is worlds better. My true love, and only one of five amazing men. He pulls away to look at me moments later.

  “Betty told me you might be here. She used the horn to send me through. I’m so glad you’re not hurt. I wish you hadn’t just left like that, without a word to anyone.” Framing my face with his hands, he gently smooths my wet hair. “To me.”

  No surprise the liar lied, but Vasily is not going to like this. I bite my lip. “I didn’t come here on my own. Betty sent me here against my will. She’s not a synergist.”

  Vasily’s brows raise almost to his hairline. “What do you mean? How could she send us both here and all the times before?”

  “She’s a dark witch. That magical abada horn implement thingy is how she sent us.” I shrug. “I think. I don’t know how witchcraft works.”

  His features harden, his gaze chilly steel. I’m so glad I’m not Betty right now. “I’m no expert in earth magic but the warlocks are. We have to warn them.”

  “We will. But Betty’s not going to do anything until I . . .” I force my eyes shut, her evil promises twisting through my skull. If I tell Vasily about her threats, he’ll blow them off, sure that he and the brothers can defend themselves against this sorceress. But what if they can’t? It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.

  “What?” His voice rises. “What in the heavens would she want with you and Tara?”

  I clench and un-clench my jaw before telling him about her love of Azotar, finishing with, “I have to convince the clan heads to free it before she’ll bring me back to Earth.”

  “We’ll find another way. I will not allow you to be the pawn of such a deceitful monster.”

  I run my hands up his chest. “I’d do it anyway, that’s the craziest part. I know Tara would be better off without Azotar, and you yourself have fought for its safety since day one.”

  “I’ve fought for its inclusion. Its rights . . .”

  I put a finger to his lips and shake my head. “It will never be accepted here. Do you really believe otherwise?”

  He drops his eyes and I move my finger to stroke his cheek. “No. I want to believe, but you’re right. Tara is too old, too stuck in her ways, especially the royalists, those connected to the royal family. I can only assume that everyone who’s remained here has evolved further than those who left.”

  “Ones like you, who came to Earth? Why wouldn’t they be more evolved?”

  He cups my chin. “No, they’re not on Earth, and it’s my duty to bring them back here. To Tara.”

  That explains Oceane’s “other worlds” bit. “Bring them back from where? And can it wait? Do we need them to do this? We already have all the clan leaders here, except for Sabin.”
>
  “I’m not sure if I’m still a clan head.” He looks miserable.

  “What do you mean? Of course you are. You’re the king.”

  “I’ve been off the throne for too long. If Betty mentioned Katrina to you, then it’s likely I’ve been deposed. I should have foreseen this—my sister must have taken over once it became clear I wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.”

  I nod slowly. “I’ll have to talk to your sister then. If she’s anything like you, she won’t need to be convinced.”

  He snorts. “She’s nothing like me. Though I haven’t seen her for many years, so I can’t say for sure.”

  “Where is she? Can you take me to her?”

  “What remains of my family is not here, or they would have been present in the castle where Azotar imprisoned me. They and their followers, the royalists, must have wanted to escape Azotar. We did have contingency plans, in case we ever needed to leave Tara. They’re most likely on another plane.”

  “Another plane? Can we get there?”

  He grimaces. “We can now. It’s only accessible from Tara, not Earth. And only when the stars are aligned and I have access to the items needed.”

  A shiver runs through me but before I can ask him what items he’s talking about, he bends down and drops tiny kisses across my forehead. “It’s just that . . .”

  “What?”

  He purses his lips. “I can’t stand aside and let some dark witch put you in danger, even if you both want the same outcome.”