The Savage Blue

by Zoraida Cordova

  Kurt shakes his head. “No, we were immortal because Poseidon made it so. Then he took the gift away and left us in the human world with nothing but the ability to age slowly and live for hundreds of years.”

  “That’s one of many theories of where we come from,” my mom says.

  I raise my hand like I’m in class. “I thought we came from Triton and those Greek dudes.”

  Kai nods thoughtfully. “Yes and no.”

  “What do you mean no?” Kurt’s hands are flailing in the air. “Our origin is irrefutable.”

  Now it’s Kai’s turn to laugh. “You may be the king’s most prized warrior, but I’ve got half the Hall of Records memorized. Our kind wasn’t born to age this way at first. We had a short lifespan, like humans. Then Triton wanted immortality. The gods denied him, but he was Poseidon’s favorite child. Cutting open his wrists, Poseidon bled and from his blood formed the Springs of Aurora for Triton and his kind to live in.”

  “Gross,” I say.

  Kurt makes to speak again, but Kai cuts him off and keeps talking. “The Sea People lived there, deep, deep down in the earth, away from the rest of the world. Until we got a visitor. One of the winged fey. He had magics we didn’t. After all, we were only half fish. And so with his queen and our king, we agreed to trade. Magic for eternal life. Years went by and soon the fey wanted more and more. They bred quickly and in multitudes, unlike us. When the king put a stop to them coming to the springs, we went to war. It devastated our numbers, but we pushed them out and barred the entrance. Only the King of the Sea can unseal it.”

  “That’s a great story, Lady Kai,” Kurt says stubbornly.

  I laugh. “Will you two listen to yourselves? Let’s say Kai is right. That still doesn’t mean you’re wrong, Kurt. We’re still Sea People with massive life spans.”

  And then I want to throw up. The realization creeps up like bile in my throat. “Since the king’s powers are weakening—”

  “Then the seal is broken,” Kurt catches on. “Open for anyone.”

  “In my dreams, Nieve is weak and fragile,” I say. “Imagine how strong she’ll be if she drinks from the springs. If anyone can bring death to Eternity, Nieve can.” I repeat the line of the prophecy, “And the daughter of the sea weeps darkness. That’s Nieve right there.”

  “That could explain where Gregorious got the water,” Mom says. “You said he knew of the championship before it happened. He could’ve realized what it would do to the seas and seized the opportunity to restore himself.”

  “But how would Nieve find out about Greg?” I stand in front of the kitchen window. Between the twinkling buildings, there is a patch of darkness where, for the first time this summer, Coney Island is completely turned off.

  “I’m sure the sea witch would find a way,” Kurt says. “Though I wonder—only the guard has access to combat fire.”

  “Kai,” Gwen presses. “Is there a map to the Springs of Aurora?”

  I snap my fingers, trying to pull a memory from my exhausted mess of thoughts. “Oh. Oh. I’m having a thought.”

  “Speaking of myths,” Kurt mumbles.

  “Shut up. I have thoughts.” I shove him and he shoves me back. Gwen stands between us, and I turn around and walk to the other end of the table. “There was a map of a tree. It had stars and a river. It was in Greg’s giant stack of mermaid porn.”

  “My father could be in danger, Tristan.” Kai rubs the chill off her arms. “If Greg was a target, any of the elders could be next. My father’s collection is extensive. I think we should go to the Hall of Records. It’s ten leagues south of this shore.”

  I take Kai by her shoulders. “Does he have a map?”

  She clenches her hand over her heart and nods. “We have to go now.”

  I point to Kurt. “I need you to stay here.”

  “You need me,” Kurt says.

  “Someone has to stay here and make sure everyone is safe.” Then I add, “I trust you.”

  “Take Gwenivere, at least,” Kurt says painfully.

  Gwen is almost as startled as I am. She reaches out a hand and strokes his bicep. “I knew we’d start getting along sooner or later.”

  Kurt shakes his head, fighting a smile. “That has nothing to do with it. Just get Tristan there and back.”

  I load up my weapons and Kai takes one of Thalia’s swords. Kurt grips my forearm and squeezes. “May the seas bend to your journey.”

  Kai and Gwen slink into the baby waves.

  I turn around once to look at the dark boardwalk, the yellow tape around the closed park, and I promise myself I’m going to make this right.

  The slits of my scales itch when water hits them. I pull tight on the straps of my backpack and the holster around my hip. When the water is up to my waist, I dive.

  The water is dark, hard to see through. Sand gets kicked up. My neck tickles where the cold water rushes in and out. My breathing feels tight as my lungs expand in anticipation of my shift. The numbness starts at my hips and races down to my ankles. If I had toes right now, I’d be wiggling them. Ahead of me, the girls have already shifted and I follow the gleam of their sparkling tails.

  For miles, there is nothing. No fish, no stones, no boulders. No shadows of ships drifting above us. For miles, it’s just swimming.

  Kai leads the way. Her scales are a powdery green. The tips of her tail look like bursts of chiffon trailing along. Everything about her is grand and slender. Like watching a flower dance underwater.

  Gwen, on the other hand, is a strong and fast swimmer. Her scales are white with splotches of black. Her hair is like a white cloud melting into water. Where Kai is delicate, graceful, Gwen swims with a confidence I recognize in myself. She even sings a wordless melody that fills the whole sea.

  Kai stops and swims circles around us. She points to a dull, rippling current that cuts through the ocean like a pipe. She dives in, and the next moment, she’s zooming away. The suction pulls me down, so fast I have to shut my eyes. My mouth pulls back, and I have to spit out tiny fish that are getting stuck in my teeth. I lose count of the minutes, enjoying the numbness of the current until Kai yells “Here!” and makes a sharp right out of the current.

  Unlike the pair of them, my exit isn’t graceful. It’s like trying to stand up on the anti-gravity ride at Luna Park. When I do, I hit a boulder and hold on to my head to stop it from shaking.

  Kai points to where the ground widens beneath us. Branches claw out of cracks in boulders the size of trucks. My eyes adjust to the darkness. I graze the hilt of my dagger for reassurance. It’s a really sharp security blanket.

  When we swim into an underpass, I shiver down to my fins. Here the stones are blue, iridescent where they’ve been chipped away, revealing the gem underneath. Fish the size of footballs gather around us in neon colors. Their teeth are sharp, their faces like arrows leading the way.

  Along the walls are etchings depicting different scenes like a time line: the circle of the earth, the separation of the heavens and seas and volcanoes. The three separate pieces of the trident, wars, and the trident whole again. Then there are things I don’t recognize: beasts cut out of whole animal parts and symbols I have no name for. Clouds, stars, and moon phases.

  The current draws us deeper into the tunnel until we reach an opening. We swim up again toward the clear light near the surface. When I’m above ground, it takes a second to readjust. The cave is massive, lit with torches.

  “Where are we?” I trace the cool, blue stone.

  Kai is in a half shift. The scales stop at the top of her thigh and wash away everywhere else. Her feet smack wet on the ground. “The entrance to the Hall of Records.”

  I grab one of the torches on the wall and bring it with us.

  “Father?” Kai calls out.

  At first it’s enthusiastic, like she’s just waiting for him to come out of the dark room and hug her.

  We inch deeper into the hall. The room is lined with books, shelves made by cutting away at stone wal
ls. There are papers all over a long rock slab of a table, ripped and crumbled. Pots of incense, candles, powders, and roots are smashed to bits.

  “Father?” Kai repeats.

  I stick my hand out to stop Gwen from taking another step into the den. “Be careful, there’s glass.”

  “What a mess,” she says.

  I pick up a bit of parchment, singed at the edges and soaked at the center, ink running down the pages. When I try to lift it, it becomes dust in my hands.

  I reach out to grab Kai’s hand but she’s so quick, running over the glass and into an opening to the right. We follow her into a darkly lit room. At first I don’t know what I’m looking at. Then Kai’s scream fills every nook and cranny of the cave. Atop a gleaming onyx table is an old man with armored scales along his arms and legs. There’s a knife stuck in his chest, just below his heart. His fingers rest around it, keeping the pressure. His breath is a shallow rise and fall. Eyes, the same crystal blue of his daughter, peel open. When he blinks a few times, the color drains. It’s like I’m underwater again, numb and wading at the bottom of the sea wearing ankle weights.

  In the darkness, his eyes find mine. The sound from his throat is a gargle. His hand, soft and brittle, reaches out to mine. “B—”

  “Shhh,” Kai whispers. Her chest is filled with ragged breath, hitched and frantic. She grabs on to his robes. “Don’t talk, don’t talk.”

  She turns around, looking at the jars along the walls. She pops open all the corks and sniffs. Not finding the thing she’s looking for, she sweeps her arms across all of them, sending them shattering on the floor. Her hands are bloody and glittering with glass shards.

  I reach out to her, but she pulls away and stands over her father. He releases the hand from his chest and reaches out to her face. Then he takes my hand in a bone-crushing grip. The blue of his eyes returns. His breath is a gust rattling inside: “Don’t let it burn.”

  His mouth opens wide, releasing his last breath. The hold on my hand goes slack, and my heart seizes.

  I’ve never seen a merman die this way. He’s looking at her. Convulsing. Shaking. Shivering. His skin melts away, leaving behind the powdery whiteness of coral and bone.

  There’s someone else in the room with us.

  Gwen takes a step back and grabs Kai’s arm to keep her in place. Kai’s whole body trembles as she cries. I hold my finger over my lips and flick my eyes down. Along with the hiccups Kai is trying to hold back, the whisper of her tears running down her face, I hear an extra heartbeat and a sob that shouldn’t be there.

  Gwen hears it too, and I follow her cloudy gray eyes down. For the first time, I see the set of toes under the table. I unsheathe my dagger slowly. I reach under and grab hold of a handful of hair.

  “Please!” His arms go right to his face as a shield. He’s whimpering. “Please. I couldn’t stop them.”

  “Let him go, Tristan,” Kai’s voice is raw as gravel. “That’s Delios, my father’s apprentice.”

  He looks about fourteen, arms like twigs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats. “They came and I hid. Master said to hide so I did and then—oh goddess, the screams—they broke things and—”

  “What were they?” I ask, though in my heart I already know.

  He shakes in Kai’s arms, letting loose the hiccups he was holding back. He turns sadly to the coral bones on the table and he hugs himself. With his long fingers, he taps his forehead three times, the way Kurt does in his Morse-code way. “Merrows. I’ve never seen them so large before. One of them could talk.”

  “Archer,” I say.

  “What did they want, Del?” Kai asks, rubbing his hair back for comfort.

  “The old map. Master wouldn’t cooperate. They tortured him. With the blade. You have to know just where to cut, you see, to not kill our kind so quickly. To make it last…”

  “As if she knew we were coming,” I say.

  The silence returns.

  “Where is the map?” Gwen asks.

  Del can’t take his eyes off Gwen. From the pearly scales covering her breasts to the damp mess of blond hair. He licks his lips nervously and brushes his hair back in a bad attempt at cleaning up. We follow his eyes to the wall behind us where an onyx circle tablet as wide as my spread arms is embedded into the wall. There’s a crack at the center of the tree. I touch the grooves that must be from Archer’s fist. Despite that, the tree on the tablet is grand with branches reaching up to the sky. Right at the roots, a tiny waterfall spills into a spring.

  “If this is the map, then what does it mean? It’s just clouds and stars and stuff.”

  “Actually,” Del holds his finger up to the deep silver crannies marking stars, “these are constellations. Cancer over here.” Del gets a geeky smile on his face. It turns my stomach into knots. Ryan used to get that look on his face when I’d ask him to help me with my biology homework. They even have the same naïve glimmer in their eyes. Hopeful—

  “But where is it in the sea?” Gwen presses. “On this earth and not the heavens?”

  Del rummages through the things on a shelf, looking back to smile at Gwen, and pulls out a roll of parchment. It’s an old map of the world.

  “This is from eighty years ago,” I point out. “Alaska is America now. Also, the Soviet Union is dismantled or something.”

  “In one way, yes. The surface of the earth is different than below it. There are more tunnels and caves down here than you humans would ever dream of. It’s a labyrinth, hiding everything the world has forgotten. Some are prisons. Some are palaces. I’ve been studying it for fourscore years, but even I still need to reference manuals. Human maps only show the surface of the world. We need dozens of maps to show our layers beneath the earth.”

  Kai stands closer to me. I put a hand on her shoulder but she doesn’t move.

  “No wonder my ears won’t un-pop.”

  “Get on with it,” Gwen urges.

  Del draws a line with charcoal from the middle of the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea. “This pass right here is where you want to go. The Cross-Atlantic Channel should take you there. The caves are protected by the ancient magics. But as long as the trident is broken, the magic won’t hold.”

  “And to think,” Gwen says darkly, “a young merman like you knows what the heralds of our kingdom do not.”

  It sounds like a compliment to Del, but there’s acid to her tone. She shakes it off immediately and forcibly avoids eye contact.

  “I can take us there,” Kai says.

  “Kai—you’ve been through a lot,” I say. “I can’t thank you enough. But maybe you should take Del to Toliss.”

  “No!” she barks. “My father led a long life. Don’t feel sorry for me. It is not the way of our kind. This was his secret to bear and I will make sure it is kept. I’m going with you.”

  I squeeze her hand and nod. There aren’t enough words for me to thank her.

  “When I was younger, my father used to take me to collect samples there. There are shipwrecks for miles down there. I knew it was sacred land. The king forbade traveling there.”

  “What about me?” Del squeaks.

  “Go to Toliss,” I say. “Tell no one but the king.” I look through my backpack for anything I can find. I have a sealed packet of gummy bears. “Give him this. He likes candy.”

  Kai runs into the back room and returns wielding a short metal sword. “Take this.”

  “What’s th-that for?” Del’s voice cracks. Man, I’m glad I hit puberty before becoming a merman.

  I press my finger on the tip. It’s slightly dull, but it’ll do the trick. “Just in case anything tries to eat you, bro.”

  “Yes, sir. Lord Sea. I mean, thank you, Lord Sea.”

  I pat his back, trying to remember the fear that comes with driving a sword into something—anyone, no matter how terrible. We follow the cold stone path back to the channels and I tell him, “Just call me Tristan.”

  Eels scatter as we race between boulders and down r
idges with nothing to light the way except the Scepter of Earth. The graceful movement of Kai’s fins has become quick, flicking like a whip. Along the way, she cries out in a song. I can feel it snaking in and out of my heart, filling all the empty places. Longing, sadness—it’s all there sifting out of me into the water.

  We swim hard and fast until I think my tail will fall off. Nearly an hour passes before we can locate the channel. It’s not like highways with big green signs ticking off miles.

  No matter how hard I try, the current is so hard that my face might as well be the grill of my dad’s car catching lots of little sea bugs. The water gets warmer and bluer as we go along.

  Kai is the first to pull out of the channel. This time, Gwen makes a face and holds on to her stomach like she’s seasick, which makes me laugh until I realize puking underwater is probably worse than on the surface.

  The ground is speckled with geysers. When they blow, we’re surrounded by warm bubbles. Here there’s a shipwreck, the bones of the ship covered in coral and seaweed and shadow.

  Kai hovers around a thick yellow patch of weeds. She parts the grass in half, then, unsatisfied, moves along to the next.

  “What are you looking for?” My voice comes out in a clear vibration.

  “The entrance.”

  “What does it look like?”

  “I’ll know when I see it.”

  We sift through a soccer field of weeds and still there’s nothing but sand and rock and the hollow skeletons of shipwrecks. An entire fleet must’ve sunk here. Golden trinkets are strewn about, along with soggy rags and undisturbed human bones.

  “Over here!” Gwen shouts.

  Past the ships, away from the geysers where stiff green trees sway in a semi-circle, there is a speck of gold beneath the sand. The ground has been turned over and littered with gravel. The three of us dig with our hands until we uncover the round door. It’s solid gold with the image of the tree etched in it, like a manhole steaming in the middle of Times Square.

  “Be careful,” I say. “They might still be down there.” I head down first with the light of my scepter. The tunnel is gray stone, glistening where light hits. Maybe it’s the plummeting darkness. Maybe it’s the pressure of being down here. Maybe it’s just my nerves, the idea that Nieve and Archer are on the other end of this tunnel. But there’s an acrid taste on my tongue.