Dude. Her brother’s mind flooded hers with excitement. That’s a city! They grew a city!
Grew?
Yeah. That’s living coral, shaped into buildings. And they were smart—they didn’t put it on the inside wall.
I don’t get how that’s smart.
Well, it’s probably part of the magma vent for the volcano. If they’d grown it there, any magma flowing up through it would fry their homes.
Ah, I see. Wow. Who’s the science guy now, huh?
Well, I’ve been reading about this stuff in preparation, you know. I’m not a total moron.
That’s good to know. She sent a wave of lighthearted laughter. What do you say we swim closer, check things out?
As they moved toward the city, Carol noticed a pair of grotesque, almost prehistoric creatures that resembled a cross between an eel and a dragon.
Oh, I saw a picture of these suckers, Johnny told her with undercurrents of apprehension. Frilled sharks. Bad news.
Something was wrong. The sharks appeared to shimmer into another shape for a moment. She looked more closely at them, focusing her xoxal as they twisted around to stare right back.
Johnny, those aren’t sharks.
Suddenly weighted nets shot out from the predators, twisting around the twins. The illusion of the frilled sharks fell away, and Carol saw that they were really two fierce-looking mermen. They wore breastplates and armored gauntlets and were armed with javelins and other, stranger weapons. Their pale gray arms and faces were banded with the darker charcoal of their slick tails and backs. Coral green hair was close-cropped on their heads, revealing small, almost vestigial ears like a sea lion’s. Wide, dark-blue eyes caught the gleam of the magma streams and shone like a cat’s in the darkness.
Atlacah guards. She tried to remain calm as they approached. Let’s shift into ahuitzomeh.
Ah, the five-handed water dog. Smart option.
Shifted, Carol used the almost simian fingers at the end of each leg and her tail to extricate herself from the netting. The guards, who had slowed upon witnessing the strange transformation, began to chitter, chirp, click and moan in some language that reminded Carol of both dolphin calls and whale song.
Johnny pointed at his tufted ears with the fingers of his left paw and then drew a finger across his neck. Sorry, dudes. No speakee mermaidee.
One of the guards drew back his javelin. Carol noticed its steel tip and understood one reason the Atlacah would trade with humans; there could be no metalworking here beneath the sea.
Raising her front legs in a human gesture of surrender, she urged Johnny to do the same. We need to meet the Queen and King, anyway. Might as well turn ourselves in and have an escort, no?
The second guard stopped his partner, and after a brief exchange, the pair drew close and indicated a direction with their spears. Carol nodded and began to swim, her brother beside her, both allowing themselves to be essentially herded toward the city.
As Tapachco loomed larger and larger, Carol was dumbfounded by how alien it was. Structures often lacked windows or doors, being instead dotted with irregular openings arranged in spiral patterns along their length. Closer inspection revealed that some “buildings” sported a kind of baleen-mesh on smaller openings that probably served to filter water the way screens did on human windows. Large, shell-like protrusions studded the more ornate coral complexes; those with delicate spires splayed in multiple directions like the quills of a porcupine.
One of these shells twisted aside at a series of clicks from a guard, revealing the entrance to the most majestic of the coral structures.
I’m betting this is the palace, Johnny thought at her.
Probably so. Let’s hope they’re taking us to the throne room or whatever. We don’t have much time to waste trying to get an audience with the royal couple.
They swam through a vast antechamber in which guards and what seemed attendants moved about, performing inscrutable tasks in spherical alcoves that grew from the walls like fruit at the end of stems. The guards re-oriented themselves so that the outside of the grotto was “down.” Carol, instinctively adjusting the buoyancy of her water-dog form, balanced herself between the tug of gravity and the upthrust of the water. Clearly the Atlacah had used all available angles and spatial orientations to build their city.
It’s like being on a space station, Johnny remarked. Since the buoyant force basically lets us cancel gravity underwater, construction and life in general can happen all over the place. Very cool.
They were guided to a broad hall of bioluminescent coral that spiraled downward, narrowing as it went.
Like a neon nautilus, Carol. Bet it follows the golden ratio.
Is that weird architectural geometry talk?
Pretty much, yeah.
When the passage had become barely wide enough for two merfolk abreast, it opened onto an opulent space grown from the same glowing material and filled with perhaps a hundred beautiful atlacah. Dominating the chamber were two ornate half-spheres attached to the “ceiling” by jewel-encrusted stems. Within them floated restfully the sovereigns of Tapachco.
The Queen—Iztalli, Pingo had said she was called—was white with tenuous blue markings. Her luminescent blue dreadlocks were piled high upon her head, held in place by a coronet of gold in which pearls and diamonds had been set. Eyes of liquid azurite were widely set above her broad nose. Like the other sirens gathered in the throne room, she wore little beyond a shell-fringed girdle and a sort of shimmering yoke necklace that draped across her chest.
King Nextic had coral pink skin with darker, almost red rosettes that reminded Carol of a leopard’s spots. His long hair, white shot through with pink, had been braided and bound with a sort of glittering wire, but his long goatee floated free. In addition to his heavy crown, he wore a ceremonial version of the armor the guards sported—a chest plate and belt from which hung weighted strips of tooled leather. Carol was reminded of a Roman general and his soldiers.
Around them, in smaller spheres grown from the floor or floating free, were sirens and tritons—clearly aristocrats from the richness of their ornamentation. Arranged along the vast, curving wall were a dozen guards, a mixture of female and male.
There was an immediate exchange of clicks, groans, chatter. The Queen turned her dark-blue eyes upon the twins, slowing her communication, but of course Carol couldn’t understand.
We need to try something else, Johnny. She looked down at her necklace. The twins had done some Internet searching trying to figure out what forms were available. There were varied bits of matter from a half dozen aquatic species, including the yellowed phalanx bone of a dolphin. She didn’t think that would be a very good option—a mammal at this depth, without air.
Before she could give much thought to making it work, Johnny shifted into a large shark to the astonishment of the gathered atlacah.
Uh, Sis, doesn’t seem like these bad boys do much communicating.
He then transformed into a squid and began make his skin flicker between red and white in a complex pattern. Guards swam toward him, spears at the ready.
They don’t seem to understand me, heh. Got any ideas, Carol?
Just a crazy one.
Focusing her savage magic like she would when singing, Carol expelled air from the ahuitzotl’s multiple lungs, creating a tenuous bubble of pressurized air around herself. Then she shifted into dolphin form and whistled a quick message.
“Not enemies! Friends!”
But that was all she could manage before the pressure of the sea threatened to crush her. She became a sort of octopus to survive.
The King surged from his spherical throne, gesturing at the twins.
Good call, Carol. I think he understood you. But we can’t be dolphins, not at these depths, huh?
No. Maybe eventually we’ll figure out how to use xoxal to protect ourselves, but right now there’s no way.
Okay. We have only one choice, then. Remember Cody? How I impersonated him? Gra
b the nearest mermaid, Sis. Time to cosplay Ariel like you’ve always wanted to.
He shot out a tentacle, seizing a guard and yanking a sucker full of hair. As other guards whistled warnings and moved toward him, Carol spun and found a particularly pretty siren with electric green hair and markings the shade of mint. Drawing her close despite the struggle, Carol more delicately pulled a single strand from her dreads and transformed, guiding Mayahuel’s robe into the shape of beautiful, glittering yoke and girdle.
Immediately she was flooded with another life, another personality, thousands of conflicting memories and perceptions. Pushing the unfamiliar self down the way she would her tonal, Carol focused on her surroundings with the senses of her new form.
She realized she could hear the siren cursing her.
“How dare you take my form, you filthy witch! I demand you transform immediately back.”
“Sorry!” Carol replied in the merfolk’s tongue. She knew the name of the siren, both the native version and its Nahuatl equivalent, saw her long family history, knew of her betrothal to a triton she despised. “Forgive me, Lady Ellelli. Give me just a moment.”
“How do you know my name? Oh, by the gods…do you know everything?”
“No,” Carol lied. She wasn’t planning on looking any deeper than she needed to. While Ellelli stared at her in horror, Carol brought enough of herself forward to alter her appearance, infusing the siren’s features with her own, shortening the hair to match her accustomed unruly mop.
She spun to see Johnny doing essentially the same, his nose, eyes and chin displacing the face of a nearby guard with a shock of white hair and swirls of red upon coral on arms and tail.
“Can it be?” Queen Iztalli exclaimed. “Human shapeshifters, able to assume any form…Are you twins?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Carol replied. “I’m…” She hesitated a moment. There was no way to pronounce her name in their language. But seconds ago, when she had said the name of the siren whose form she had stolen, she had mouthed the Nahuatl word “Ellelli” while whistle-clicking the merfolk equivalent. This strange convention came naturally; it was clearly the norm in Tapachco. She searched her new vocabulary for “free woman,” which was pretty close to the meaning of Carolina. “I’m Carol.”
Oh, I get it, Johnny muttered in her mind. Juan means ‘god-graced.’
“And I’m Johnny,” he added, mouthing his English name while making the right click and groan.
The King gave a low, chittering laugh. “Free and graced by the gods. Auspicious names. My guards tell me you perceive them fully despite their tzaccayotl.”
He means their glamor, Carol shared. Illusion.
Yeah, I get it. They have a little magic. Disguises them. Keeps them from the prying eyes of our kind.
Carol moved her hand in a pattern that signaled agreement or affirmation. “Yes, Your Majesty. We have really only just begun to explore our savage magic. This must just be another of its benefits.”
“Well, Carol,” Iztalli interjected. “Our secrets are clearly open to you. We know something of twin shapeshifters, tales passed down the long millennia. You have assumed the shape of merfolk; you have access to our ways. You can see past our disguises. You can take on the form of sea creatures we would struggle to best. You will understand, then, our need to immediately know your purpose among us. Do you mean us harm? Should we seize you now and thrust you into the magma flows?”
“No!” Carol cried. “Definitely not. No thrusting into magma flows, please.”
“Yeah,” Johnny concurred. “We are totally not here to hurt anyone, so it’d be really cool if you didn’t hurt us, okay?”
“If you are not here to cause mischief,” said a new voice, “then speak of your purpose. For years now we have spurned the human world. Why would your people send you now?”
Carol turned to find an older siren with a scar crossing her dark green features and an ornate helm covering her head. The patterned traceries in her armor were different from those of the guards. A quick peek into Elleli’s memories told Carol these signaled the siren’s high rank.
“This is our castellan, Nalquiza,” the King explained. “She commands the Royal Guard.”
“Oh, you’ve misunderstood, Castellan,” Carol said. “Humans don’t know you exist.”
Johnny laughed. “Well, some crazy folks think you might. That fake report on Animal Planet didn’t help much.”
Shut up. This is really not the time for jokes. And you can’t just twist their language like that. They don’t know what ‘World of the Animals’ is, weirdo.
Carol turned her eyes on the sovereigns of Tapachco. “The tzapame sent us.”
The light buzz of conversation among the courtiers died immediately. The Queen blinked rapidly for a few seconds.
“We must have proof of this claim, Carol.”
Johnny spoke up before she could respond. “That’s easy enough. They’re required to send aid, aren’t they, when one of the other magic races is in grave danger? Those were the terms set down at the beginning of this age by the Feathered One himself in the Nenotzalli In Tlayocoltzin, the Compact of Blessed Creatures. That ancient treaty doesn’t give the Little People much choice. And since there are darker forces than you can imagine behind your son’s betrayal, well, they decided to send in the big guns. Us.”
Arrogant much?
It’s the freaking truth, Carol. Pingo himself said all this to us.
Still. Don’t get too stuck up about it.
“Our son.” The Queen looked at her husband for a moment. He stared back at her impassively. To Carol they both seemed devastated despite their haughty expressions. “Tell me, human twins, what is it you would have us do about Prince Maxaltic? He has abandoned Tapachco, fleeing his impending union with the princess of Qucha Llaqta and with it our chance at controlling the Eastern Pacific. Rumor has it he has instead taken up with dark beings beyond our border. Though it pains me more than words can express, he is beyond redemption.”
Carol shuddered at the sadness of those words. “Queen Iztalli, first of all, I don’t believe that people are ever really beyond saving. There’s always a chance, no matter how small, that they can see how wrong they are and turn away from the path they’re on. But forget that for a second. The problem with Maxaltic is bigger than just Tapachco and the royal family. He didn’t leave to avoid a marriage—he’s after the Shadow Stone.”
Groans of dismay and horror came from all around the throne room. Guards gripped their weapons tightly, cast their eyes about as if searching for enemies.
The King dove toward Carol, his eyes wide with fury and despair. “Why would my son covet that evil device? Why would he court destruction in such a way?”
“He wants to flood the world. To destroy humanity. To unite the races of the sea and set himself up as their absolute ruler.”
Now the Queen emerged from her throne, as if being closer to the bearers of bad tidings made the news more credible. “Insanity. No member of the House of Napotza would willingly do such a thing.”
“Well,” Johnny said, “we’re pretty sure he didn’t come up with the idea himself. He’s being manipulated by Tezcatlipoca.”
Pandemonium erupted. Guards seized Carol, but she made no move to free herself. Creaking shouts came from aristocrats as the King gestured for calm with his stone scepter. Johnny shoved away lances, wove dense black armor from his cloak.
“Enough!”
It wasn’t the Queen or King’s bright voice that reverberated throughout the throne room, nor was it the castellan or any of her guards. Instead, a young siren swam into the midst of the confusion, the spitting image of the queen except for pale rosettes like those of the king. Even before noting the circlet on her brow, Carol knew this was Princess Anamacani.
Everyone became still, even the King and Queen.
“I know the idea is frightening,” she said calmly, “but I believe the twins. Before abandoning the kingdom, my brother sought me out to ask f
or a Retelling. He wanted to hear of the Fall of Atlan. As the Royal Historian, it was my duty to comply. When I spoke of the Shadow Stone, there was a bleak avidity in his eyes that I did not understand. Now we all do. Maxaltic has allied himself with chaos.
“So tell us, Carol and Johnny of Atlixco, the human realm—what can we hope to do against such a devastating force?”
Carol shuddered against her own will. “You need to raise an army and send it against the prince before he finds the Shadow Stone.”
King Nextic’s knuckles went white as he squeezed his scepter.
“What if we cannot stop him in time?”
Johnny’s smile sent a chill of foreboding down Carol’s spine. “Then you’ll be glad that we tagged along. We’ve dealt with the plans of Mr. Smoking Mirror before. Stopped his little apocalypse down in the Underworld, in fact. If your army can just get us to Maxaltic and fight off his goons, we’ll take care of the rest.”
Something told Carol that, despite her brother’s bravado, things weren’t going to be that easy at all.
Chapter Five
Johnny hadn’t been thrilled to be dismissed from the throne room while the King, Queen and their advisers consulted in private, and he had definitely objected to being separated from his sister so that their tours of the city would not be “complicated by any temptation to act without royal leave.”
Still, Princess Anamacani was an intriguing, intelligent, and wryly amusing guide, so he kept his complaints to himself.
He also had to admit that she was pretty cute for a mermaid with blue dreads and spots. The thought made him vaguely uncomfortable, so he was sort of glad Carol was off with a different atlacatl. She would definitely tease him if she knew.
Anamacani led Johnny through the heart of the city, and his mind boggled at the incredible architecture they’d achieved without the constraints of normal up-down orientation or thousands of years of human construction practices. Twisting tunnels threaded like veins throughout the coral spires, providing private passage from building to building. Merfolk thronged together or swam from place to place with the same oblivious purpose you see people moving in human cities. Johnny tried to imagine the everyday routine of such beings. He figured there was school, work, play, church…
A Kingdom Beneath the Waves Page 4
