Gates of Eden: Starter Library

by Theophilus Monroe

  On the other hand, Titus' tail resembled an overstuffed burlap sack of potatoes... with a fin. It was downright weird looking.

  Not that anyone would tell him that. Not if they didn't want their face smashed in. But I knew other people thought it. I mean, human nature's that way. I was pretty sure mer-nature was similar. You see someone with some kind of deformity, everyone pretends they don't see it. They go out of their way not to mention it. But everyone inside their head is shouting, holy hell, what the flip? Look, I know it's wrong to focus on people's misfortunes, to zero-in on their oddities. But we all do it. Everyone is a bit of a dick on the inside. Just keeping it real.

  In Titus' case, though, I'm not sure his tail was a deformity so much as the result of some kind of mer-steroid and whatever mermen did instead of squats. Yes, many dudes skip "leg day" at the gym and thereby have toothpicks as legs. But Titus had never missed a single "tail day" in his life. I suppose it took a lot of tail strength to propel his whale of a body through the water.

  "I've come for Miss Joni," Titus said. "King Conand would like to speak with her about her encounter with the wyrm."

  4

  "FIRST, MISS CAMPBELL, welcome back to Fomoria. I'm told you'll be residing with the priestess."

  I nodded. "Thank you, your highness. Yes, Cleo has been gracious to receive me."

  The king folded his arms in front of his chest. He was an impressive looking merman. Not massive, like Titus, but he had remarkable musculature for a merman of his age. I wasn't exactly sure how old he was or what made for an old versus a young merperson. From what I understood, their lifespans far exceeded those of humans. So, the fact that King Conand's hair and long beard were almost entirely white suggested that he was likely centuries old. How many? I hadn't a clue.

  Agwe floated in the water to his left, gripping his own trident—one that closely resembled the one he'd given me. An ancient weapon, for sure, but it had something of a modern look to it. Clean angles, a sleek feel to it. While I didn't know the best way to wield mine, it felt right in my hands. Perhaps, though, that was because the Fomorian tridents were ethereal weapons. Not forged of steel or bronze, but from energy. Yes, they glistened like polished silver. The blue magic that coursed through the tridents gave them an impressive luster. When coming of age, every Fomorian child is vested with a spell that allows him or her to summon one. It's a gift from Agwe—and it made sense now that I learned he was a Loa.

  Agwe, himself, was an attractive demigod. Not large, but with a chiseled physique, olive skin, and long black hair, tightly braided in rows. And, of course, he never wore a shirt. Most mermen didn't. Which meant that I had a hard time diverting my eyes from his rippled eight-pack of abs.

  Agwe had been kind to me. If I'd known he was a Loa at the time, I'd probably have never given him a chance. Now that I had, though, I had to consider the notion that not all Loa were necessarily as evil as the one I'd encountered in my youth. Before I left with Merlin, my baby in a bubble in which he could breathe, Agwe was the one who saw me out of the city. He'd vested the sigil on my hand with the ability to summon my trident. It wasn't safe, he'd said, to go into the open water without one. Draw a little magic through the sigil into my fingertips, and the trident would emerge. Draw it from the sigil into my legs or tail, and my lower half would shift into its opposite.

  All Fomorians were, in fact, shapeshifters of a sort. The way Cleo had explained it, in fact, they used to be hideous creatures. Born of the void, predating creation itself, guardians of the deep. I'd met one such ancient Fomorian before, on my previous adventures. So, I had no reason to doubt it. But as creatures whose magic is attuned to the element of water, shape shifting was a natural part of their evolution. It was an ability they'd mastered through the centuries.

  And Fomoria was more than this city in the Caribbean. It was more like a network of cities, a kingdom that spanned the globe. Thus, the Fomorians appear in Irish mythology. Merfolk are found in the legends of east Asia and in Greek mythology. Of course, this outpost's reputation in the Caribbean inspired numerous tales through the years.

  "There are some of us, Miss Campbell, who are less inclined than I might be to welcome you here."

  I shrugged. "I get it. I'm an outsider."

  "More like an abomination," the king said. "You might technically have Fomorian blood in your veins, but you are also human. And you were raised with the humans. And when it comes to our kind, our relationship with humans... I'll just say, few of our encounters have been friendly."

  I nodded. "Your Majesty, if there were stronger terms to use to communicate my gratitude for welcoming me here, I'd use them. I am under no illusions my presence here might unsettle some. So, despite that, I thank you deeply."

  King Conand narrowed his eyes. "When I invited you to return, that you might find solace from the dragon's curse, I meant it. And the token you wear is proof of my intentions. However, with the emergence of the wyrms, we must address new concerns."

  "I encountered one on my way here," I said.

  The king nodded. "So I hear. I'm sure you will understand my concern. The nature of the curse, the one we purged from your baby when returning to human form, is nonetheless indelibly connected to your soul. A regrettable fact, on account of your foolish attempt to fix the curse yourself rather than come to us initially."

  I raised my hand. "If I'd known... I can assure you, I would have."

  King Conand smiled slightly. "Be that as it may, whatever remains of the dragon's essence inside of you, while perhaps dormant when you are steeped in Fomorian magic when you are sheltered in our city's walls, could make you something of a liability outside of these walls."

  I cocked my head. "I don't mean to be a problem, Your Highness."

  "Of course you don't," the king said. "Which is why I'm confident you will understand my request."

  "Which is?" I asked.

  The king steepled his fingers as he sat on his throne. I figured the throne served more a ceremonial purpose than anything. I mean, when you can float, you don't need to sit to rest. "Dragons and the wyrms are both creatures who were born of the void. In ancient times, they served as gatekeepers between worlds. Guardians of the integrity of all worlds. They prevented humans from venturing into domains that are not their own. The wyrms, always creatures of the sea, disappeared centuries ago. Like dragons, they were never particularly at home in this world. Though they are creatures of the sea, while on earth, make no mistake they belong to the void."

  "And the void is..."

  "It was what was before everything was... the nothing out of which all things came to exist."

  "And you're afraid they've come to destroy your kingdom?"

  The king nodded. "And more than that. The Fomorians, we were born of the void, too. But unlike dragons and wyrm, we made a home here in this world. Not that I was there. I'm not that old. It was many generations before even I was born.

  Nonetheless, our people remain here, in this world, in the sea, as this world's guardians. We dwell in the abyss, in the chaos of the sea, and rule the oceans to ensure that the void is never released into the world. The wyrm, however, pose a significant threat. If we cannot defend ourselves against them, if we cannot banish them back from whence they came, there is no telling what horror might befall not just Fomoria, but all of the earth."

  "I assure you, Your Majesty, I have no inclinations or urges associated with the dragon's curse to turn on Fomoria in any way."

  The king pursed his lips. "While here, within the confines of our city, that might be true. But outside of the firmament, outside of the magical dome that protects Fomoria, can you be certain?"

  I shrugged. "I mean, I had no thought of doing Fomoria any harm before."

  "But you do not know for sure," the King said, gripping his scepter. "Otherwise, you never would have returned. You would not have given up your child if you felt you could trust yourself... given the curse you harbor."

  I pressed my lips together. The kin
g had a point. I didn't trust myself. Sure, I hadn't done anything awful yet. But I felt the desire... the compulsion... the reptilian drive to do seek, kill, and destroy.

  "Your Majesty," I said. "When I encountered the wyrm before, she was afraid. She intended this kingdom no harm. She'd been taken from her child. All she wanted was to find him."

  The king narrowed his eyes. "You've told me all I need to know, Miss Campbell. Until further notice, you will not be permitted to leave Fomoria. Is that understood?"

  I cocked my head. Sure, I saw the wisdom in the king's demand. But I was here of my own accord. The notion that I no longer had the freedom to leave struck me the wrong way. I bit my lip. "Your highness were I to ever feel my... condition... made me a threat, I swear it, I'd let you know immediately. You have nothing to fear from me."

  The king rose from his throne, fluttered his tail, and swam my direction, stopping six feet before my position. "But you already empathize with the wyrms. You've said so yourself."

  "I... your Highness... only that she's scared. She has lost her child."

  "A sentiment, I'm sure, you and she share."

  I sighed and scratched my scalp.

  "This is not forever, Miss Campbell. Only until the wyrm have been dealt with. I'm sure you can appreciate the responsibility that weighs on my shoulders. As king, I must ensure the safety of my people. At any cost."

  I nodded. "I do."

  "Very well. Then it is determined that you will remain within the veil of Fomoria's firmament. If you should choose other lodgings, other than your current ones with the priestess, I trust you'll see to it that I'm informed accordingly."

  "Yes, Your Highness."

  "And one more thing," the king said as I turned to leave. "Should you decide to leave without my authorization, you will be banished from Fomoria indefinitely. Is that understood?"

  "Of course, Your Highness."

  An ear-piercing shriek resounded through the king's throne room.

  The King and Agwe exchanged glances.

  "Titus," the king said, his brute of a body-guard taken a more erect posture, which, I should say, was a bit strange looking since he wasn't standing at all but floating in the water.

  "Yes, Your Highness," Titus replied.

  "Take Miss Campbell to the upper spire, then join us at the front. Admiral Agwe, assemble the legion."

  5

  IT WASN'T THE first time I'd heard the sound. It was a wyrm's roar. Possibly the same one I'd faced before, though there was no way to know for certain. And the merlegion was preparing its defenses.

  I was the only one who'd faced one of these before. I could hear the wyrms and speak to them. I should have been out there.

  But fat chance convincing the king of that in the heat of the moment. Besides, he'd made it clear he didn't trust me outside of Fomoria's magical firmament.

  At least from the spire, I presumed, I'd have a decent view of whatever was going on.

  Titus ushered me up a corridor—it was like a spiral staircase without any stairs. Just a curly-cue tunnel going up.

  It was a bit uncomfortable. I've always had a mild case of claustrophobia. There are two ways that I've always feared I might die. I was determined to avoid the two worst ways, no matter what being buried alive or drowning.

  Obviously, drowning was no longer going to be an issue. But the whole buried alive thing was still a terrifying prospect. My heart raced as I swam, following Titus, through the narrow tunnel. He was so thick he could barely make it through. His shoulders rubbed along the sides of the tunnel as we swam.

  There was a vacuum effect to the tunnel, a current that pulled us through it. I was grateful for that because I could barely move my tail enough to move forward with our limited space. Tiny flutters of the fin were all I could pull off. Oddly enough, Titus seemed to fare a bit better. Despite his size, and therefore, less room to move. He managed to twist his tail back and forth. It was a way to swim that, as a merperson, I hadn't learned. But Titus had his whole life's worth of experience using a tail, so, I suppose, I shouldn't have been put off by my relative lack of tail skills.

  Yes, I'd had swimming lessons as a girl. I was briefly on the swim team, my first two years of High School in Baton Rouge.

  But having a tail was a game-changer. It was like learning to swim all over again. It was certainly more efficient than legs and feet were when it came to moving my body through the water, but it still was going to take some time to master.

  We got to the top of the spire. Something like the turret of a castle, I suppose, but more like a giant ball, protected by some kind of mesh. It was subtle—barely visible at all, whatever it was made of. I guessed some sort of rust-resistant metal. I surmised the place was meant to give the king a look-out over Fomoria and the surrounding seas without providing open access to the mer-public.

  After all, in a merkingdom, it was sort of like a big city on land might be—if everyone who lived there could fly like Superman.

  A necessary security measure.

  And I had the pleasure of witnessing the entire wyrm assault on Fomoria from the comfort of the king's protected suite.

  Not that I was up there for my own protection. King Conand didn't want me to risk getting involved.

  Titus looked at me. "Don't go anywhere."

  I nodded. I'm not sure why Titus told me that because a half-second later, he disappeared down the tunnel through which we came, pulling some kind of hatch over the only exit I had.

  A click reverberated through the water.

  Did he just lock me up here?

  I pulled on the door. It didn't budge.

  Welcome to Fomoria, Joni Campbell. Here's your private prison.

  Sure, it was temporary. Probably until the wyrm assault had been dealt with. But the king made it clear—I wasn't trusted to leave Fomoria at all.

  It's crazy how much war can change folks.

  A little fear and suddenly all liberty is sacrificed for the sake of security.

  The king had gone out of his way when I'd been here before to help Merlin to let me know that I was always welcome.

  "I declare you, Joni Campbell, an honorary citizen of Fomoria, entitled to all rights and privileges of the same." That's what he'd said when he draped this medallion over my neck. The king had been so welcoming before...

  But there's always a before and after—a point of no return.

  Before shots were fired over Fort Sumter.

  Before Pearl Harbor.

  Before 9/11...

  Before the voodoo attack on my family.

  Before I met my baby's daddy.

  Before the dragon's curse...

  Moments in time that change everything. Events that completely change the trajectory of nations, kingdoms, or a person's life.

  Then there's the after.

  A life lived in the shadow of the event.

  The appearance of the wyrms was like that for the Fomorians.

  Before they showed up. Before the merlegion had assembled to defend the kingdom. The wyrms' appearance had altered everything. At least when it came to the king.

  He'd changed. I no longer saw him as the benevolent monarch, a charismatic leader presiding over an eccentric kingdom.

  I wasn't angry about it. I didn't blame the king.

  While I'd never ruled a kingdom, I did know what it felt like to be responsible for lives that were hanging in the balance.

  I never felt that burden more than when my child was born under the dragon's curse.

  It still haunted my nightmares. I knew what it was like to make sacrifices to save another's life.

  But that's precisely what the wyrms were doing...

  I couldn't blame the king for thinking they were a threat.

  They were not only large creatures, but their instincts were reptilian. Not really sure if they were classified correctly as reptiles or amphibians. Dragons were reptiles. So were snakes. But the wyrm, at least from what I could tell from my brief encounter with one,
didn't need to return to the surface for air. Born of the void, without an earth-bound evolutionary heritage, it made sense that these creatures defied the classifications of species I'd learned in High School.

  I looked out over the waters, beyond the firmament.

  The magical shell that surrounded Fomoria distorted the view of the world all around. However, as I tried to peer through the firmament, I noticed the magic that formed the shell created something of a reverse-fishbowl effect. And the magic was moving. As it changed shape, the view all around seemed to change, either magnifying or reducing what I could see.

  I inhaled—attempting to connect myself to the magic that surrounded the city.

  Just enough to manipulate the shape of the shell to get a better view of what was happening.

  I wished I'd paid more attention to the module we'd done on lenses in AP Physics. If I did that, I might know how to manipulate the shell to produce the image I needed.

  It was a little trial and error. And I had to be careful—I didn't want to do anything to compromise the veil that both powered Fomoria with magic and protected the city.

  Eventually, I found the sweet spot.

  The wyrms were so massive that, at first, it was hard to tell what was what. But now I had a clear view.

  Three wyrms. One of them, the mother I'd encountered before.

  Dozens of Fomorian merman warriors swam around them, jabbing their tridents toward the creatures.

  I didn't like their chances.

  But the wyrms weren't attacking.

  They were intimidating, sure.

  Their roar was downright frightening. A tail rattling sort of fear—if the merfolk had legs, they'd be shaking in their boots.

  But that didn't stop the merlegion from attacking.

  Agwe was leading the charge.

  Just one of these creatures, with a swipe of the tail or a chomp of its massive jaws, could take out a good portion of the legion.

  Titus appeared at Agwe's side and, raising his trident over his head, threw it at one of the wyrms striking its underbelly.