by Kyle Shultz
“So what happened afterward?” asked Crispin.
“The mermaid was the crown princess of Aegiris. According to the only surviving historical records, her father the king was incensed when he found out she’d killed herself over the Prince of Caledon’s infidelity. As a result, war broke out between Caledon and Aegiris—the War of Land and Sea.”
“I think I’ve heard that war mentioned in legends and folk songs,” I said. “But I never knew it was connected to the Little Mermaid.”
“It was a long and brutal conflict that almost destroyed Caledon. And the Undine had a way of suppressing the magical abilities of Charmbloods, which utterly terrified all enchanters and magical species involved in the war. In the end, Caledon won, though there’s some debate among historians as to precisely how that was managed. The War created a lasting hatred for Undine on the part of Charmbloods. Most enchanters are downright terrified of them. But the merfolk haven’t actually been seen in years. All that’s left of them are rumors and ghost stories. Or so everyone thinks.”
“So that’s why you’re so prejudiced against Molly,” said Crispin.
“I’m not prejudiced!” Cordelia retorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m still not convinced she’s anything other than an ordinary Charmblood.”
“She used song magic,” I pointed out. “If I understand correctly, there’s the runes, which anyone with magical ability can use, and then there are innate powers that only certain magical species possess. I’m guessing only the Undine can do that singing stuff.”
“That’s true,” said Cordelia, biting her lip in concern. “Song-magic is a lot more powerful than rune-magic…though it’s got one significant drawback.”
“What?” asked Crispin.
“It only works while the song is being sung,” Cordelia explained. “It doesn’t have permanent effects. Still, if Molly is somehow an Undine, that makes her extremely dangerous. And not to be trusted.”
Crispin remained defiant. “I think she’s a good person.”
“Good, perhaps,” I said. “Trustworthy? That’s another matter. I think Cordelia’s right. We need to tread carefully. We’re better off leaving Molly out of the equation and sticking to our original plan.”
“Which reminds me,” said Cordelia, “did you get a chance to talk to Kiran?”
He brightened. “Yeah! Yeah, that went fine…mostly.”
I looked suspiciously at him. “What do you mean, ‘mostly’?”
“Well, we hit it off all right to begin with, and everything was going great…right up until Cordelia’s name came into the conversation.”
She winced. “I was afraid of that.”
“But I fixed it.”
I narrowed my eyes. This didn’t sound good. “What do you mean, you ‘fixed’ it?”
Crispin fidgeted. “I…said something that changed his mind.”
“Go on.” Cordelia was beginning to look nervous too.
He cast a furtive glance in Cordelia’s general direction, not quite willing to meet her gaze. “I told him that you’re sorry for trying to feed him to that shark, and that you really want to see him again because you’re still madly in love with him.”
Cordelia’s jaw dropped. “You told him WHAT?”
“It just popped into my head. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Red light crackled around Cordelia’s fingers as she seethed with rage. “Crispin,” she said, through clenched teeth, “I am going to murder you.”
“Right. I understand.”
“I mean it. I know Nick threatens to kill you all the time and never actually does it, but I actually, really, honestly mean it. You’re dead. You are very, very dead.” She turned on me. “And Nick, if you don’t stop laughing this instant…”
I gave up struggling to control myself and burst into fits of laughter. “I’m sorry. This is hilarious.”
“It is not hilarious! Not even remotely!”
“Look,” I said, recovering my composure with some difficulty, “is it really so bad? I mean, at least we’re on the bloke’s good side. Why don’t we just go ahead with the plan?”
Cordelia shut her eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments. Then she opened them and said, “All right. We’ll proceed and try to salvage this situation.”
Crispin grinned. “Right, then. Looking forward to that submarine ride.”
Cordelia glowered at him. “I’m still going to kill you. Painfully.”
“Right. Painful death. I’ll pencil that in on my schedule.”
I turned away so Cordelia wouldn’t see me laughing again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Omen
As it turned out, Kiran Dhakar—or Nemo, or whatever his name was—didn’t just have a submarine, he lived on it. To meet with him, we had to make our way down to the cellars of Warrengate, through a series of tunnels, and into a watery cave that accessed the ocean. The yawning cavern was filled with blue-green light thanks to glowing crystals in the ceiling. Dhakar’s craft sat mostly submerged in the underground lagoon, with just the top sticking out of the water. It was about three hundred feet in length and tapered at the ends. Its general shape was reminiscent of an enormous shark, except with engines in place of fins and a tail. The outer hull was green and had a scaly texture, making it look as if the hide of some sea creature had been stretched over the frame of the ship. Quite possibly, that was indeed the case.
“Come on,” said Cordelia, stepping off the wooden dock that extended into the lagoon. She marched briskly across the hull of the ship. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Careful,” I cautioned, digging my claws into the hull and crawling after her on all fours. “We don’t want to end up falling in the water. I’d rather not meet whatever creatures are living down there.”
Cordelia gave a bitter laugh. “Kiran’s the only creature I’m worried about right now.”
“Try to be patient with the man, all right? We need to stay on his good side, if it’s at all possible.”
“I’ll try.” She grabbed the wheel on the submarine’s upper hatch and wrenched it with a loud creak. Soon the hatch popped open, and she clambered down a ladder into the ship.
“This is so incredible,” said Crispin. He’d done nothing but ooh and aah ever since he first laid eyes on the ship.
“Try to curb your enthusiasm,” I pleaded, squeezing my bulky frame through the hatch. “We need to keep the upper hand in these negotiations. Tone it down. Don’t be…you.”
He saluted me as he watched me climb down into the ship. “Duly noted.”
I shook my head. “You’re hopeless.”
When I first set foot inside the submarine, I briefly wondered if I had stumbled into the manor house of some wealthy nobleman by mistake. I was standing on plush, expensive-looking carpet in the middle of a hallway lined with paintings by the old masters. (Their subjects weren’t trying to claw free from their frames—a refreshing change from the macabre decor of Warrengate.) At one end of the hall, I caught a glimpse of a luxurious dining room; at the other, I saw what appeared to be a library or study.
Crispin stepped on my head at this juncture, distracting me. “Watch it,” I warned him, as he used my shoulders as stepping stools to get down from the ladder.
“Look at this place,” he breathed, dropping to the floor with a thud. “Isn’t it something?”
“It certainly is. I just wonder which way Cordelia went.”
“In here,” I heard her call out from the direction of the study. I followed the sound of her voice, with Crispin close behind.
There were bookshelves along one wall of the library. Judging from the titles, the books were all about voyages to the far-flung corners of the Afterlands. Also, they were all written by “Captain Nemo.” I supposed many of them were actually penned by Kiran’s father or grandfather, if the title was passed down in his family. The other walls bore large, detailed maps of every continent. In the center of the room, there was a large desk with an unfinished map
spread across it. The words “The Lost Colonies” were inscribed in bold, artistic lettering in the bottom left corner. I peered closer at the map and read some of the place names out loud. “North Neverica, South Neverica, Ozstralia…weird. I’ve never heard of those continents.”
“Most people haven’t. Hence the term ‘Lost.’” The voice was smooth and charming—it set my teeth on edge instantly. I turned to see a tall, handsome, olive-skinned man in his late twenties swagger into the room. I vaguely remembered having seen him at breakfast, but at the time, I hadn’t been paying much attention. His costume was somewhere between “navy captain” and “penny-dreadful pirate.” His long coat incorporated a ridiculous amount of gold braid and big, ostentatious brass buttons. His sea-boots were similarly garish, so large that they shook the floor whenever he walked. He grinned at us, showing off rows of blindingly white teeth, and tipped his gold-embroidered captain’s hat.
“Welcome to the Nautilus,” he said. “My ship, and my home.”
“I like his hat,” Crispin whispered to me. “I want one.”
I ignored him. “Hello,” I said. “I’m Nathaniel Barlow, and this is my brother Christopher. We…”
“My darling!”
“Er—” I stammered, drawing back from him a little.
Kiran swept towards Cordelia, moving more gracefully than I would have imagined anyone could in boots like those. He took her hand and pressed it gently. “Cordelia, my radiant little sea anemone, how enchanting to see you again.”
Whack.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Cordelia slapped him.
“All right,” I said, baffled, “what happened to being patient with him?”
She shrugged. “I tried. I failed. I’m not sorry.”
Kiran rubbed his cheek, his smile stubbornly intact. “This is a rather…violent note upon which to restart our relationship.”
“We’re not restarting anything,” Cordelia shot back. “You were misinformed.”
He seemed crestfallen for a moment, then angry. “Oh. I see.” He cast an accusing glare at Crispin. “So, Christopher. You arranged this meeting under false pretenses.”
“Yes,” Crispin admitted, “though you getting slapped was never part of the plan, just so you know.”
Kiran glared at each of us in turn. “I should throw you all off my ship right now.”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” I said, trying to find some way of appeasing him. “But if you could possibly hold off on that until we get a chance to explain why we’re here, we’d be very grateful.”
He looked from Cordelia to Crispin and then back again. “So far, I’ve been lied to and slapped…very hard. I’m not really in the mood to listen to anyone.”
“Just ignore both of them,” I pleaded, pointing to Cordelia and Crispin. “They’re not important right now.”
“Excuse me?” said Cordelia.
“Oi!” said Crispin.
“This whole thing is about me,” I told Kiran. “As you can see, I have…a problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m a monster.”
This did not appear to interest him. “So?”
“I’m not supposed to be.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
I took a deep breath and marshaled my facts. “Basically, we need you to help us find the tomb of the Sea Witch so we can use her magic as part of a plan to change me back into a human.”
“I see.” Kiran stepped over to a small table bearing a crystal decanter of brandy and some glasses and poured himself a drink. “And why should I care, exactly?” he asked between sips.
I slumped my shoulders in defeat. “I was afraid you were going to ask that.”
“Why should I help any friend of Lady Cordelia Beaumont after what she did to me?” He took a large gulp of his drink, his expression darkening. “She broke my heart and nearly got me eaten!”
“Look,” said Cordelia, “I’ll admit that I was slightly…evil back then, hence the shark thing, but I only did that to you because you wouldn’t stop trying to convince me to marry you!”
“A noble quest,” Kiran argued.
“An infernal nuisance! I couldn’t take it anymore. Granted, I shouldn’t have tried to kill you, but look at it from my point of view!”
“I would be well within my rights to refuse to help you in any way whatsoever,” said Kiran, setting the empty glass down on the table with a loud clack.
“Yes,” I sighed, “I understand completely.” I began mulling over a plan to hit him on the head while his back was turned and take over his submarine.
“But,” he added, “I won’t do that.”
Sorting out the logistics of my takeover plan had distracted me. I blinked in confusion. “You won’t do what?”
“Refuse to help you.”
“You mean you will help us?”
“Absolutely.”
“Why?”
Crispin elbowed me sharply in the ribs. “Gift horse. Mouth. Shut up.”
“Because,” said Kiran, “this is my chance.”
“Chance for what?” I asked.
Kiran cast a soulful look at Cordelia. “To prove to the one I adore that I am truly worthy of her.”
She smacked a hand to her forehead. “Oh, for the love of—”
“Fine,” I cut in. “Fine. Whatever. Give it a shot, who knows.”
“I know,” said Cordelia. “I know it’s never going to ha—”
“Cordelia, please just let it go for now, all right?” I begged.
She glared at Kiran and folded her arms. “All right. For now.”
“Wonderful!” Kiran clapped his hands together and smiled happily. “Then all you have to do is tell me where this tomb is you want to find, and—”
“Wait a minute.” I turned to Cordelia. “Do we know where it is?”
“I assumed Kiran would know.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Surely in all your voyages on this old tub you’ve found some trace of where the Sea Witch is buried.”
Kiran drew himself up and gave Cordelia a haughty look. “It is not an old tub. And I generally try to stay away from any place where Undine might be lurking. Even long-dead Undine.”
“But you found those artifacts,” said Cordelia.
“That was purely an accident. I stumbled across them while I was exploring a trench a few miles off the coast. And there certainly wasn’t any sign of a tomb there. But you can look through what I found if you think it’ll be helpful.”
“Maybe the spell we’re looking for is in there,” Crispin suggested.
“Like I said before, I doubt it.” Cordelia bit her lip. “I can’t imagine something that powerful would be left lying in a trench…but we can check just in case.”
“Follow me, then,” said Kiran, heading back down the hallway.
We followed him through a door and down a spiral staircase into the lower levels of the Nautilus. Things were considerably less luxurious in this part of the ship. Water dripped from the walls and ceiling, and ominous creaking sounds echoed through the confined space. The only light came from a single, greenish lantern hanging from the ceiling.
“There you are,” said Kiran, motioning to a large table in the center of the room. It was strewn with a variety of artifacts, about a dozen in all. I couldn’t make head nor tail of most of them. There were a couple of knives, though the blades and handles were curved at bizarre angles and engraved with lettering I couldn’t translate. The only other recognizable object was a large snail shell crafted into a pendant on a silver chain. It was cracked into over a dozen pieces. Someone had tried fitting them back together, but they had barely succeeded. The pendant’s damaged condition stood in stark contrast to the other relics, all of which were fairly pristine.
Kiran pulled off his hat and scratched his head. “I’ve been trying to catalog them. There’s not really much there. I
t was all in a big chest.” He pointed to the box in question, which was on the floor next to the table.
“A chest?” I peered closer at it. “That doesn’t strike me as something an undersea civilization of merpeople would have used. It looks more…human.”
“These don't,” said Crispin, taking a blue-green, cylindrical object from the table and holding it up to the light. “What’s this thing supposed to be?”
“It’s a poison dart gun,” said Kiran. “And you’re pointing it at your eye.”
Crispin went pale and laid the artifact back on the table, very slowly.
“None of this is what we need.” Cordelia gave up rummaging through the debris. “No spell-books, no scrolls…”
“The chest wasn’t water-tight,” said Kiran, “so even if there had been something like that inside, it probably would have disintegrated a long time ago unless there was a spell preserving it.” He tapped his lips pensively. “However, I did just think of something.”
My spirits lifted. “What?”
“I might not know where the Sea Witch’s tomb is, but I know somebody who probably does.”
Oh, perfect, I thought, already sensing where this was going. “Who?”
All four of us spoke the name in unison. “Molly.”
“Er…yes,” said Kiran, surprised. “Your cousin is surprisingly well-versed in Undine lore, Cordelia.”
Cordelia drummed her fingers on the table in annoyance. “Is she your latest paramour?”
Kiran bridled. “Certainly not. My heart beats only for you, my precious pufferfish.”
Crispin raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Watch it, Kiran,” Cordelia warned.
“Yeah,” I added, glaring at him.
“Oh, are you two…” He pointed to me, then to Cordelia.
“What?” Cordelia cried. “No!”
“Certainly not!” I exclaimed. “Good grief, man; we’re not even the same species at the moment.”
“Yes, how exactly did that happen again? Lovers’ tiff?”
