by T.A. Barron
“The Resurreccíon?”
“None other.” He searched her face. “Care to hear a story?”
Kate half smiled. “Better be a good one.”
“You can be the judge of that.” He reached over and squeezed her forearm under the blankets. “Make yourself comfortable. This will be like old times.”
IV: The Story of the Thirteenth Treasure
Long ago, in a land beyond reach and a time beyond memory, a great craftsman lived alone on a mountain precipice. Only the eagles knew where to find him. Yet even they did not visit, for they, like all the creatures of this land, were not welcome.
His true name has been lost from memory, but he is known in legend as Emrys of the Mountain. So vast were his skills that he required no helpers, no messengers. Indeed, Emrys needed no one even to bring him food, for he had devised ways to make stones into loaves of bread, snow into cheese, water into wine.
Such solitude suited his” purpose, for Emrys wanted no one else to understand the secrets of his craft. His knowledge was hard won, and he hoarded it greedily. He refused all offers to sell either his skills or his creations, for he held no interest in riches or titles or the ways of men. Any visitors who, by design or chance, came near his alpine hold returned with both empty hands and empty thoughts, able to recall nothing of what they had seen.
Emrys almost never ventured forth, except when he needed to gather the few substances that he could not himself manufacture. He worked ceaselessly, since his work was his only passion. Yet he rarely felt satisfied with the fruits of his labor. He destroyed any creation that he did not deem utterly perfect.
After all his years in the mountains, only twelve creations met his standards, and only twelve did he retain. They were his Treasures. First he forged the sword of light, so powerful that a single sweep of its flashing blade could kill any creature, whether made of flesh or of spirit. Then he made the ever-bubbling cauldron of knowledge, the whetstone that could turn a strand of hair into a gleaming blade, the halter that could make an ordinary horse run like lightning, and the pan that produced the world’s loveliest smells. Next came the mantle that could turn its wearer invisible and the ruby ring that could control the will of others. To these Emrys added the inexhaustible vessel of plenty, the harp that could make haunting music at the merest touch, the knife that could heal any wound, and the chessboard whose pieces could come alive on command. Finally, he designed the flaming chariot, whose fire came from the very heart of the Earth.
Yet with all his Treasures, Emrys still lacked one thing. He remained mortal. He was destined to die like all mortal beings. In time, his hands would lose all their skill, his mind would lose all its knowledge. The shadow of this fate so darkened his days that, at last, he could bear it no longer.
In desperation, he left his mountain lair to search for the secret of immortality. He had no idea whether he could find such a thing, but he knew he must try. He brought with him only two of his Treasures: the sword of light and the ruby ring that could make others do his bidding.
His quest led him to many wondrous lands, but he did not stay long in any of them. Emrys searched and searched, following every clue he encountered, but without success. Nowhere could he find the secret that he craved. No one could help him.
At last, after many years of searching, he finally gave up. He made ready to return home in despair.
Then, as he sat in the shadow of a great tree, he heard a young mother telling her child a story. She told of a mysterious realm beneath the sea called Shaa. Only mer people, half human and half fish, lived there. No one but the mer people could find their way to Shaa, though many had tried. All anyone knew was the legend that it lay in the place where the sea begins, the womb where the waters are born. Merwas, emperor of the mer people, had ruled the realm of Shaa with wisdom and dignity over many ages. In fact, it was said that Merwas had discovered a way to live far beyond his time, that he could remember the birth of islands that men considered older than old.
To most listeners, this tale would have been nothing more than a simple child’s entertainment. Yet to Emrys, it held a seed of hope. He vowed never to rest until he discovered whether the ancient ruler Merwas still lived beneath the waves.
But where was this land of Shaa? The place where the sea begins, the womb where the waters are born. It was not much of a clue, but it was all that Emrys had.
With his superior skills, he fashioned a hood that allowed him to breathe underwater with the ease of a fish. He descended into the sea, full of renewed hope. Yet soon he began to realize the enormity of his challenge. The realm of Shaa, if it did exist, would be nearly impossible to find. So vast were the many seas, he would have barely begun his search before his remaining life ran out. Still, he vowed to persist.
Years passed, and although he followed many leads under the sea, he was ever disappointed. Even his ring of power and his flashing sword could not help him. He began to wonder whether he had really heard the story of Shaa at all, or whether it was only a remnant from his fevered dreams.
One day Emrys smelled the sweet aroma of an underwater plant called apple-of-the-sea. It reminded him of apple blossoms in the spring. For a moment he felt captivated by the perfume, and he strolled in memory through apple groves he would never again see on the land.
Then, out of a crevasse before him, a strange form arose. First came the head of a woman, with long black hair flowing over her shoulders. She seemed darkly beautiful, although her eyes were shadowed, almost sunken, so that they gave the impression of being bottomless. With a gasp Emrys realized that, below her shoulders, her body was nothing more than a cloud of dark vapor, curling and twisting like smoke. Two thin, wispy arms formed out of the cloud, one of them clasping a dagger in its vaporous hand.
“Who are you?” asked Emrys, his own hand on the sword of light.
“Nimue issss my name.” Her voice hissed like steam vapor.
“What do you want from me?”
She pointed at his ruby ring. “It issss beautiful.”
Emrys drew back.
Nimue watched him, coiling and uncoiling her vaporous arms. “It would sssseem a ssssmall pricccce to pay . . . to find the ssssecret entrancccce to the realm of Shaa.”
“You know the way to Shaa?”
“An enchantressss knowssss many thingssss.”
Emrys hesitated. The ring had helped him often over the years. Yet he knew also that soon he would die and the ring would then serve him no more. Although it was probably folly to trust the enchantress, what did he have to lose? Giving Nimue the ring seemed a small price to pay for a chance to achieve immortality.
So Emrys agreed to the bargain. Nimue took the ring and scrutinized it carefully with her bottomless eyes. Then, wordlessly, she beckoned to her servants, a band of enormous eels with triangular heads and massive jaws who had been hiding in the shadows. Emrys knew at once that they were sea demons, among the most feared creatures in the ocean. His blood chilled at the very sight of them.
Yet the sea demons did not attack. They merely surrounded Nimue with their slithering bodies. Cautiously, Emrys followed as they led him some distance to the mouth of a deep abyss dropping down from the bottom of the sea. Here, declared Nimue, was the entrance to the secret realm ruled by Merwas.
Then Emrys noticed that the abyss was guarded by a monstrous beast of the sea, a spidery creature with many powerful legs. Though the creature had only two narrow slits for eyes, it seemed to sense the presence of intruders. Its huge jaw opened a crack, revealing a thousand poisonous tongues.
“Treachery!” cried Emrys. “That monster will never let me pass.”
But Nimue only laughed and hissed, “I ssssaid I would bring you to the door. I did not ssssay I would open it for you.” With that, she turned her vaporous form and melted into the dark waters, followed by the sea demons.
Before Emrys could decide what to do, the monster stirred and suddenly attacked. Wielding the sword of light, Emrys battled bravely, b
ut the spidery creature pinned him against an outcropping of rock. With a last thrust of the sword, Emrys cut off one of the creature’s legs. As it shrieked in pain, Emrys slipped past and escaped into the abyss.
Darkest of the dark, the abyss plunged downward. Emrys, wounded and weak, followed its twists and turns, doubting he would ever reach the end. And even if he did, who could tell whether this was indeed the route to the land of Shaa? More likely, Nimue had tricked him yet again.
Then, at last, the abyss opened into an undersea cavern as wide as a valley. Water so pure it seemed to glow dripped from the high ceiling, gathering into waterfalls that tumbled radiantly into the lake filling the cavern. Fragrant winds, bearing all the smells of the sea, flowed through the cavern’s airy spaces. The place where the sea begins, the womb where the waters are born. At the far end of the cavern rose a magnificent castle made of streaming, surging water, its turrets and walls as sturdy as glass yet as fluid as the ocean itself.
Instantly, Emrys found himself surrounded by mer people, glistening green. They appeared unafraid and rather amused by his curious form. They escorted him to the shining castle and brought him to the great hall, which was filled up to the base of the windows with water, allowing the mer people to come and go easily. There, seated upon a crystalline throne, was their ruler, a mer man whose eyes flamed brighter than lightning bolts and whose long, white beard wrapped around his waist and prodigious tail. At long last, Emrys stood before Merwas, ruler of the land of Shaa.
When Merwas demanded to know what purpose had brought Emrys there, and how he had discovered the way into Shaa, Emrys told him of his quest to find the secret of immortality. Yet Emrys chose not to reveal that he had been helped by Nimue, fearing that the mention of the enchantress would make Merwas suspicious. The ancient ruler listened carefully, then declared, “Your search, though valiant, has been in vain. I have nothing to give you except a brief rest while you heal your wounds and prepare to return to your home.” Then, in a voice like waves crashing upon the cliffs, he added: “You have much yet to learn.”
Despite the beauty of this land under the sea, for Emrys it seemed utterly bleak. His quest lay in ruins. He wished he could just lie down and die, rather than attempt the long journey back to his mountain lair.
Then, while wandering alone through the corridors of the castle, he chanced to meet Wintonwy, the only daughter of Merwas. The bards of that realm had long celebrated her virtues. Sang one:
Graceful as coral, true as the tides,
Constant as currents the rising moon rides.
Fresh as the foam, deep as the sea,
Bright as the stars, fair Wintonwy.
For the first time in all his years, Emrys fell in love. He set to work, crafting for Wintonwy a bracelet of gleaming bubbles and other wondrous gifts. Although Wintonwy ignored him, Emrys hoped that his attention might eventually touch her heart.
And, in time, Wintonwy took notice of him. She invited him to join her on a voyage through Shaa. They set off immediately and traveled to the farthest reaches of the realm.
One day, as they camped near a fountain of warm water, Wintonwy chose to explore alone while Emrys designed a new creation. Suddenly, he heard her screams. He leaped to her aid and found she had been attacked by a vicious shark. Seeing he could not reach her in time, he hurled the blazing sword of light with all his strength. It struck the shark in the eye just before the ferocious jaws clamped down on Wintonwy.
She was badly injured, but alive. Emrys carried her in his arms all the way back to the castle, singing continually to ease her pain. Upon seeing them, Merwas raced to join them. Although the old emperor worried how a shark had managed to enter the realm, he chose not to dwell on such concerns, overcome with relief that his dear Wintonwy was safe. In gratitude for saving her life, he asked Emrys to make a wish—any wish.
“To spend the rest of my days at your court,” answered Emrys without pause.
“Then you long no more for eternal life?”
“No, my king. I long only to live my life anew at Wintonwy’s side.”
Bowing his head, the emperor declared: “If my daughter agrees, your wish shall be granted.”
Soon the castle came alive with the announcement of their wedding. While Wintonwy prepared for the ceremony, Emrys labored to make a wedding gift of unrivaled elegance. On the eve of their marriage, he unveiled it, a drinking horn whose beauty surpassed anything he had ever made. It was shaped like a spiraling shell, and it glimmered with the light of stars seen through the mist. And, remembering his mountain home, Emrys endowed the drinking horn with a special virtue. Anyone who held it near could smell the fragrant air of the mountaintop, even if he did so at the bottom of the sea. He named it Serilliant, meaning Beginning in the mer people’s tongue.
Emrys offered it to Wintonwy. “I give you this Horn, the most lovely of my Treasures, as a symbol of our love.”
“Our love,” she replied, “is all we shall ever need to drink.”
The Emperor Merwas then came forward. “I have decided to give to Serilliant a special power, the greatest I have to bestow.”
“What is this power, my father?” asked Wintonwy.
“It is . . . a kind of eternal life, but not the kind most mortals seek. No, I give to this Horn a power far more precious, far more mysterious.”
“Can you tell us more?”
Merwas lifted the Horn high above his head. “I can tell you that the Horn’s new power springs from the secret of the newly born sea, the secret we mer people have guarded for so long.”
As he spoke, the Horn swiftly filled with a luminous liquid, as colorful as melted rainbows. Then Merwas declared, “Only those whose wisdom and strength of will are beyond question may drink from this Horn. For it holds the power to—”
Merwas never finished his sentence. The castle gates flew open and Nimue, leading an army of sea demons, drove down on the helpless mer people. The sea demons, growling wrathfully, slew anyone who stood before them.
As Nimue aimed her black dagger at Merwas himself, Emrys raised the sword of light in wrath and charged. But just before he could strike her down, Nimue held up one vaporous hand. On it rested the ring that Emrys himself had once worn.
“Look into thissss ring,” commanded Nimue. The ring flashed with a deep ruby light.
Emrys froze.
“Now,” she continued. “Drop your ssssword.”
Unable to resist the power of the ring, Emrys shuddered, then dropped the sword of light.
“Good.” The enchantress laughed. “I could kill you, but I will not becausssse you have been quite usssseful to me. You wounded the sssspider monsssster, allowing me at lasssst to enter the realm of Shaa.”
Emrys wanted to pounce on her, but he could not find the strength to move.
“Go,” ordered Nimue.
Haltingly, Emrys turned and left the castle.
When at last the invaders departed, both Merwas and his beloved Wintonwy lay dead. The few mer people who survived fled the castle, leaving it abandoned forever. They scattered far and wide, becoming the most elusive creatures in all the sea.
Yet Nimue’s triumph was not complete. The Horn somehow disappeared during the battle, and neither she nor her sea demons could discover its whereabouts.
Emrys, stricken with grief, eventually made his way back to his alpine lair. There he resumed the life of a recluse, but never again did he create any works. He did not even try. For the rest of his life he bore the pain of the love he had found and so soon lost. Worse yet, he bore the pain of knowing that but for his own folly, fair Wintonwy would still be alive.
V: The Ballad
What a sad story,” said Kate, swaying with the rocking of the boat. “But what does it have to do with Merlin? Or the sunken ship?”
Her father poured hot milk into the mugs and handed one to her. “I told you that the story of the Horn has two parts.”
“You mean . . . Serilliant . . . became the Horn of Merlin?”
>
“Yes! Merlin, in his search for the Thirteen Treasures, finally found it, the most precious Treasure of all. He kept it with him for a time—though for some reason he didn’t take it to the Glass House with the others. And then, somehow, he lost it.”
“Lost it? How?”
“Nobody knows.”
Kate’s eyes fastened on her father.
“Losing the Horn must have been a terrible blow. So terrible that I’m convinced it finally killed him.”
She squeezed some of the water from her braid, then leaned forward. “So what happened to the Horn?”
“I’ve been trying to answer that question for years.”
She watched his face, anxious but determined. “And you think finding the Resurreccíon will help you do that.”
“That and more.”
Clasping her mug with both hands, she inhaled the rich, chocolate aroma. The memory of the whirlpool’s icy waters now seemed far away. “Dad,” she asked quietly, “what is this all about?”
He ran a hand through his bristly hair. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. We’re almost out of time. And unless I can get a sonic picture that shows something, this whole project is as sunk as the Resurreccíon.”
“Maybe Isabella can talk the government into an extension.”
“I doubt it,” he said dispiritedly. “She did phenomenally well to get us a permit in the first place. They have strict rules against people coming down here, you know. Whirlpools and killer shoals don’t fit the tourist paradise they’re trying to promote. It was only because of Isabella’s stature as a scientist that they let us in at all—and then only for a month, with no extensions possible. Still, I was certain that would be enough time to find some hard evidence about the ship. Then, with the prospect of all that gold bullion, they’d be sure to change their tune and grant an extension. But here we are, with just three days left.”
