A Kingdom Beneath the Waves

by Bowles, David;

  “Take care not to tip your bowl,” Ana warned. “It is filled with heated air and a cooked mélange of shark, squid and greens. The pressure keeps water from entering, but too much of a tilt will send the air bubbling out and cool the contents too quickly.”

  “Weird. It’s like a reverse soup!”

  Ana showed him how to use a pair of strange ivory tongs with bent tips to reach up into the bowl and grab food, pulling it down into the water and then up to his mouth. The stew was even better than the spiced-fish balls.

  “Dang, I could really get used to this cuisine!”

  There were a few more courses, including skewered shrimp and coral tubes from which everyone sucked a tartly sweet paste for dessert. The oddest thing for Johnny was the lack of drink. The merfolk were inhaling water through their noses, the same way they did when resting. When they moved, water rushed over their gills from the outside, so they never had to drink.

  Really bizarre. Don’t know what I’d do without a Coke every now and then.

  Toward the middle of the meal, the night’s entertainment began. The first performance was some strange aquatic dancing—ridiculously boring— followed by a pretty cool acting troupe that put on a short play about the love of a farming siren for a shark-herding triton. It was okay, Johnny figured, but it was full of merfolk allusions and jokes that he didn’t get, though he smiled a lot at Ana’s delighted laughter.

  Once the event was over, he and Carol were escorted by Mihuah, Ana and a couple of guards to guest rooms in a lower level of the palace.

  “Remember, Carol,” he said when they reached the swiveling doors of their quarters. “Let your tonal take over completely before going to sleep.”

  Ana went inside with him to explain the use of the various hooks, baskets and other odd furniture in his room. There was a sort of weird toilet contraption in a small adjoining room, but an embarrassed Johnny just accessed his borrowed memories for details on how to use that.

  “And there you have the sleeping alcove,” the princess said, pointing out a recessed half-sphere of space on one wall. “The walls are covered in a soft material, and you just pull the entrance netting up onto these hooks so you avoid floating out into the room during the night.”

  “Awesome. Okay, then, I guess I’m going to get some shut-eye. Got to get up early, don’t we?”

  “Indeed. Rest well, Johnny.”

  She gave a sort of elegant curtsy. In a clumsy response, he brought two fingers up to his forehead to make the goofy salute that he and his father always gave each other, flicking his digits nonchalantly away from his brow.

  “Uh, sure. Will do, Ana. You too.”

  The door rotated shut behind her, and he shook his head in irritation.

  “That was really smooth, dude,” he told himself. “Classy. What a moron.”

  Rather than think about how awkward he felt, he slipped into the alcove, called his tonal to the forefront of his being, and hid himself deeply in dreamless sleep.

  ~~~

  Early the next morning, Johnny found himself forming up at the city’s edge with Carolina, Mihuah, Castellan Nalquiza and a phalanx of troops that were loading up a team of sixgill sharks with equipment, guided by Captain Xicol.

  “I’m really curious about the court sorcerer,” Carol remarked.

  “Yeah, me, too. Is he going to be more Dumbledore-slash-Ben Kenobi or Snape-slash-Dark Willow? Or a total oddball like Dr. Strange or Merlin?”

  “You’re a weird boy.”

  Before he could think up a clever comeback, a figure came swimming leisurely toward them. He was an old triton, Johnny could tell from the thin, frayed edges of his gills and tail, though age didn’t weigh on the Atlacah as much as it did humans. Very dark gray with charcoal striping, the newcomer was completely bald, though his head, arms and torso were covered with a tight-fitting, black-scaled outfit that flared out into a type of kilt. He was otherwise unadorned, except for a jade disk hanging around his neck—engraved with a strange glyph—and a staff of ivory, ornately carved with other arcane symbols. His long, silver goatee was carefully braided, and his eyes were almost completely white, with just the black dots of the pupils peering at them as he approached.

  I’m guessing this is Tenamic, Johnny thought to his sister. Looks like he belongs in a Rob Zombie movie.

  Coming to a hovering halt before Ana, the sorcerer gripped his fists against his chest and inclined his head. “Good morning, Your Royal Highness. At your mother’s behest, I arrive to accompany this expedition and to help it accomplish its charge.”

  “You are well come, Archmage Tenamic. Were your attempts at finding my brother successful?”

  “No, I am afraid they were not. Maxaltic is shielded by shadow magic, as far as I can tell. His whereabouts are beyond our power to determine.”

  “Then we’ll have to track him down the old-fashioned way, huh?” Johnny quipped. “Using detective work and stuff.”

  The sorcerer raised an eyebrow. “You must be one of the naguales. Johnny, if I am not mistaken?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s me.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you. And you are Carol, are you not?”

  “Yes, um, Archmage Tenamic.”

  “Good, good. It is true that detecting is our only recourse, but the three of us will be able to bring some magic ‘stuff’ to bear on the mystery as well.”

  There was a twinkle in his otherwise scary eyes, and something told Johnny that, like Ana had said, they could trust the old wizard just fine.

  “And we need to get started with this detecting immediately,” the castellan said gruffly, gesturing at her phalanx of royal guards. “Captain Xicol, if you will lead the way.”

  The expedition set off in the direction of the caves, guards on all sides, the sharks with their packs toward the back.

  And thus the Fellowship of the Shadow Stone set forth…

  Stop. You’re embarrassing yourself, Johnny.

  What? I thought we could all cosplay. You can be Gimli the dwarf, Carol.

  And you could be a towering troll, huh? Turned to stone?

  You’re no fun.

  They began diving below the caverns dedicated to agriculture to enter a series of grottoes in which warmer water swirled with greater and greater force until they merged into a broad current that pulled the company along with increasing speed. Before long they found themselves rocketing out into the open depths of the sea through a broad opening in the roots of San Benedicto Island.

  Riding the current was an unexpected relief, like getting into a car after walking several kilometers. Johnny smiled as he was carried along, twitching his tail from time to time to adjust his position alongside his sister.

  “This is pretty sweet,” he told her.

  “Yeah. I wonder how long it’ll last.”

  “Hopefully most of the way. You sleep okay?”

  Carol shrugged. “I guess. I was nervous about drowning. Plus…”

  “What?”

  “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about Atlan and the first nagual twins, Johnny. How did they end up hating each other so much that they’d clash the way they did, causing so much destruction? I mean, I’m guessing that when they were our age, they had to be pretty good friends. Like, uh, you and me.”

  “I don’t know, Carol. For, what was her name, Quelel to get so angry and jealous, her brother was probably a big jerk to her. Maybe their parents were a lot different, raised them not to see each other as equals, stuff like that. You know, all the macho stupidity you see in the world—like, boys are better than girls and so on.”

  “You’re probably right. But I still worry. We can’t end up like them, ever, Johnny. We have to talk to each other, share our concerns, our feelings.”

  “You bet, Sis. Besides, you know how I hate all that macho crap, anyway. This isn’t a competition. We’re in it together, to stop the bad guys and keep innocent people safe. I don’t want to be king of anything.”

  Ana had overheard them
and moved closer. “That is a noble sentiment, Johnny, though I suspect you would make a great leader. As would you, Carol. You should note, however, that the rage Quelel felt toward her brother was less driven by jealousy or rivalry than by disappointment at his abandoning their family, their ailing father, to spend so much time in the sea.”

  Johnny nodded. “Yeah, well, family means everything to me, so I can’t see that happening. Besides, nowadays Epan could just talk to his old man every day using Skype, right, Carol?”

  Mihuah had come along by this point, and Carol launched into an explanation of modern communication technology, mentally rolling her eyes at her brother.

  Johnny took a moment to drop back a bit to where Tenamic traveled the current alongside Captain Xicol.

  “So, gentlemen, about how far is it to the monastery?”

  “About a quarter watch or so,” the captain responded. Johnny did the math in his head—two hours. “Of course, that’s depending on how quick we can move from this current to the Patlachtic Flow, which runs past the Order’s cloister at the edge of the Acapulco Trench.”

  “Oh, sure, I know what that is. We crossed over the northern edge of it in a boat a couple of days ago. So, you guys use currents a lot for long-distance travel, do you?”

  “Yes,” the captain said. “Ahuecapan, the depths inhabited by the Atlacah, is vast, spread all over Apan, the Mother Ocean.”

  The Pacific, he means, thought Johnny as he nodded. “Sure, I can see how tough it’d be to visit the Five Nations on just tail power.”

  “Isn’t this a problem in Atlixco, too?” asked the captain.

  “I’m sorry, where?”

  Tenamic gave a gentle laugh. “The Surface, Johnny. Thus do we name the world of humans and walking beasts.”

  “Oh, well, we use wind currents a little, ‘walking beasts’ some as well, but mostly we use technology to create vehicles that transport us from place to place.”

  Xicol grimaced a little. “Ah, yes, we’ve seen many of your ships, plying the sea or sinking beneath the waves to be reclaimed by coral and sea grass upon the ocean floor.”

  “Indeed,” said the court sorcerer, “and to transition from there, I have learned that yesterday you gave our engineers and builders something of a show, Johnny.”

  “Oh, you mean making the coral grow faster? That was a shock for me, too.”

  “So you had never performed this feat before?”

  “No. I saw the teotl in the coral and reached out with xoxal…It kind of just happened.”

  Tenamic stroked his beard thoughtfully, a movement that changed his balance and sent him into a slow spiral till he was essentially below Johnny, looking up at him. “Such abilities are not unknown to the mages of Tapachco. You have wielded matlallotl. Green Magic. With time—through great study and considerable practice—your mastery may allow you to bend the vegetable sphere to your every command.”

  Before they could continue with the conversation, Nalquiza indicated to everyone it was time to exit the current and drop into the massive Patlachtic Flow. Swimming in a spiral to reduce the shear, the company submerged into stiller, colder water. They traveled at top speed for five minutes before a saltier rush pulled at them and they were drawn into a sort of aquatic superhighway.

  The group spread out even more, and the guards pulled rations from the pack sharks for everyone. As Johnny and Carol nibbled on their bits of fish, Mihuah compared the Flow to the much more impressive Black Stream, along which she had once traveled for weeks with her mother to visit the distant kingdom of Unazoko.

  Once the novelty of the new current had faded, Johnny drifted off by himself, reflecting on the new knowledge he’d gained from the Archmage, gingerly opening his senses to any energy from nearby plants. All about, the ocean teemed with strange life, some of it surrounding the company, as in the case of a huge cloud of bioluminescent microorganisms, which turned the Flow into a glowing stream of blue for the better part of an hour.

  The lightshow had begun to disperse when the castellan signaled that it was time to exit. She led the company west and down, the sea growing dimmer and dimmer. Tenamic rumbled an esoteric incantation, and the sorcerer’s staff started to glow, lessening the gloom a little.

  Soon, a shape began to loom in the distance. The phalanx quickened its pace at Captain Xicol’s command, and they herded the younger members of the company toward a structure that seemed to coalesce out of the inky depths, lit up here and there by what might have been magic or bioluminescence.

  It was the massive hulk of a sunken ship, lying on its starboard side, thickly coated with coral and other organisms. As they approached, Johnny realized it was perched on an outcropping that jutted out over the blackest abyss he could have imagined.

  “Behold,” Archmage Tenamic announced, “Iztac Teopixcacalli: the salt-scoured monastery of the Order of the Deep.”

  Chapter Eight

  Carol figured the ship had sunk about a century ago, judging from the living crust that had grown over its hull. An armored corvette, probably. Sixty meters long, hints of rust among the coral, three masts lying half-buried in the sand of the ocean floor. Mihuah had suggested that the Order was thousands of years old, so this was either a recent branch or the monks had relocated from a previous monastery.

  An entrance had been fashioned where the main mast had once stood. As the company approached, a group of tritons emerged with shorn heads. They were wearing simple loincloths, and large ivory medallions that were carved with the image of a siren, strapped by harnesses to their chests. Carol assumed the siren was Huixtocihuatl, the goddess of salt. Mihuah had mentioned that the Order was devoted to that divinity.

  One of the monks, whose eyes were the same spooky white as Tenamic’s, swam ahead of the rest to greet the newcomers.

  The boss monk, Johnny thought at her.

  Yeah. She was delighted to realize she knew the Nahuatl term for his position. The teopixcahuah. Abbot, in English. Head of the monastery.

  Like I said. Boss monk. The image of a smiley face popped into her head.

  Did you just use telepathy to send me an emoji? You’re one…

  …strange boy. Yeah, I know.

  “Castellan Nalquiza. Archmage Tenamic.” The monk made no gesture of respect, just inclined his head slightly. “It has been scores of years since I last beheld such lofty personages. You will pardon my lack of refinement in greeting you. A lifetime of silence and solitude, serving the goddess and watching the deep, efface such niceties.”

  “Abbot Pacqui,” the castellan said, “we require nothing but information and rest.”

  “Ah,” replied the abbot, a smile easing his stiff demeanor. “Those we can supply, I trust. Please, follow me.”

  Leaving a contingent of guards to keep watch and care for the sixgill sharks, the group swam into the heart of the monastery. The various holds remained largely intact, though the monks had used the decades to guide coral into the typical half-sphere cubicles and resting yokes that Carol had seen throughout Tapachco. The abbot led them into the largest of the holds, which had been converted into an assembly room. The walls were dotted with rings through which the monks hooked their tails, assuming a prayerful, bowed stance.

  Like pews, she sent her brother as she followed suit.

  N’hombre, don’t remind me of the kneelers at St. Joseph’s. Ugh.

  Once everyone was settled, Nalquiza deferred to Princess Anamacani to explain the reason for their visit.

  “Word may have reached you,” she said, “of the disappearance of my brother, Prince Maxaltic, nine veintenas ago. Despite the efforts of the royal guard and the city mages, we had no idea where he had gone or why. Until the arrival of two human naguales, Carol and Johnny Garza, whom you see before you.”

  The abbot gave them a deeper bow of the head than he had his own countrymen, clearly surprised at their identities.

  “The twins are here at the behest of the tzapame, who claim that Maxaltic seeks the Shadow Stone, a
ccompanied by an army of dark beings.”

  One of the monks gasped involuntarily at this news. Abbot Pacqui shot him a silencing look.

  “The Little People appear to have learned this information from Celic of the House of Napotza. Knowing that he is a brother of the Order, we have travelled here to question him further about his claims. Can he be quickly summoned? Much depends on the knowledge he may possess.”

  Pacqui shook his head. “I am afraid that is impossible, Your Royal Highness. Celic left us many years ago, abandoning the sea to become an atenhuatl.”

  There was stunned silence.

  Carol ventured the question before Johnny could comment. “I’m sorry, but what’s an atenhuatl?”

  “River-dwellers,” the abbot explained. “Air Sages who exile themselves to the Surface to live among humans and walking beasts, retiring to the unsalted and sickly sweet flowing waters of your realm when the need for their natural form arises. In ages past, when your people and ours had greater commerce, an atenhuatl would serve as a type of ambassador and priestly guide, communing with atlacah, humans, elementals and even gods. Those, of course, were very different times.”

  Sounds like Ariel from The Little Mermaid, Johnny quipped mentally.

  “But,” Carol continued, “if Celic’s been living in Mexico or something for years now, how could he possibly know what’s going on with Maxaltic?”

  The abbot made a despairing gesture. “I have no idea, Lady Carol. For some time before his departure, Brother Celic had withdrawn from others of the Order, spending his days in isolated meditation. What prompted his decision to leave us is a mystery. He would not explain himself, and we do not force our members to remain if they choose to abandon their devotion to the goddess.”

  The castellan was visibly distraught, the scar on her face more livid than usual. “And Maxaltic? Have you had any news of him? Has he passed this way?”

  “I am afraid we know nothing of the prince’s whereabouts. None has reported seeing him or any signs of this dark army of his.”