A Kingdom Beneath the Waves

by Bowles, David;

  Carol thought about silence and the dark, about the attack she had experienced in Mictlan that summer. “Oh, I totally get it. We’re all frightened of something. I’ll bet that even an up-and-coming diplomat like you, daughter of the minister of state, gets scared from time to time.”

  The siren’s skin darkened slightly, flushed by some emotion. “I am sure I have no idea what you are implying, Carol.”

  “Maxaltic. You said that when you were a kid, you saw him like a legendary figure. You pretty much suggested that you didn’t spend any time with him. But the stuff you and Ana have shared about growing up kinds of contradicts what you told me during our tour. I’m guessing you didn’t want me knowing all the facts. So either you’re hiding something, or you’re afraid.”

  The siren’s gill clefts opened wider, a sign that she was outraged or embarrassed.

  “Listen. You can certainly understand the awkwardness of admitting to a stranger that you have a long-standing friendship with the triton she is hunting down. I like you, Carol, but, yes, you scare me. You are young, but you are powerful. I had no desire to be interrogated or perhaps tortured by you for information.”

  “What? Mihuah, I would never do anything like that to you!”

  “I know that now, of course. But on day one? My mother raised me to be very cautious interacting with foreigners, to reveal only what needs revealing. Besides, you had access to Anamacani and others, and all of them are aware of how close Maxaltic and I were before…”

  “Before he broke off your engagement? That part’s true, I know, from what others have said.”

  “Yes. Everything else I told you is the truth. I simply kept our childhood friendship from you to make your investigation less complicated. It is not as though that knowledge could have helped you track him down any more quickly. Do forgive me, Carol. I realize now that I should have been absolutely sincere with you about this matter.”

  Though she was not completely satisfied, and despite something still nagging at her mind about Mihuah’s deception, Carol smiled and shrugged. “It’s okay. Heck, my best friends have told me bigger lies, and we still hang out.”

  They hugged briefly, and both excused themselves to rest. Carol stayed near the front of the pod, taking advantage of the glow from the lead transport to observe the trench. The west wall had become a gradual slope; the east wall was still kilometers distant, a flat black expanse even in the meager light. Startled aquatic life rushed by on all sides, caught in the torrential flow of the current, some torn apart by the force to Carol’s chagrin.

  Beyond occasional tors, boulders, and bubbling crevices, their surroundings remained much the same as they gradually dipped deeper and deeper.

  Lulled to drowsiness by the unchanging vista of the Deep, Carol felt her eyes slowly close. She did not fight sleep. Surprisingly, no dreams or visions came to her.

  ~~~

  She was jerked awake a few hours later when the pod began angling against the current. It was a bumpy ride as it exposed its starboard side to the pounding flow for the space of several turbulent minutes. It exited Atoyatl just behind the other pod and was followed by the third.

  Johnny?

  Yeah, still here. We’re okay. You?

  A little jostled, but fine. I guess this is the Abyss, huh?

  Looks pretty much like the rest of the Deep to me.

  Keep an eye out for ruins.

  Carol pressed her face against the crystal, hoping to make out shapes below.

  “It would seem we have nearly arrived,” Mihuah said, joining her.

  “Yes, but I don’t see a dock anywhere, much less a sunken continent, do you?”

  Just then the pods began to slow with an audible hum as they descended toward a crescent of orange that sizzled against the black of the Abyss. Making swooping spirals, the vessels slipped their way inside a most unexpected space.

  It was a cavern, as Carol had imagined, but one so vast she could not make out its far wall, even in the hellish illumination that lit up the shattered interior. This orange-red glow came from sluggish streams of lava that crisscrossed the landscape as far as the eye could see, pooling into infernal lakes in some places. Carol gasped as she saw crumbled towers and buildings beside the nearest of those molten lagoons.

  “It’s Atlan,” she said to Mihuah, awed by what she saw. “The whole place has been sealed deep in the crust of the earth.”

  Mihuah nodded thoughtfully. “The legend ends with that event: ‘And Tlatecuhtli, Lord of the Earth, opened wide his maw and swallowed the island whole.’ I always supposed the line to be metaphorical.”

  With a change to the frequency of their hum, the pods arced toward a transport station, twin of the one they’d launched from.

  A fourth pod was visible, but it hadn’t docked correctly. Instead, it lay broken against an outcropping of jagged black rock. Carol couldn’t see any bodies inside.

  Their three vessels hissed to a stop in the berths without any issues at all. The mass of guards swarmed forth into the warmer, less dense water, responding to orders to clear the immediate area, checking for signs of the enemy. A team went to investigate the crashed transport.

  Carol joined her brother and the command staff by the control tower. Princess Anamacani was holding the map of Sulamala in her hand and gesturing at the ruins.

  “Do you see it? Half-buried in the rock beside that coral-encrusted stone pier? That is the head of the statue of Huehuehteotl, the Old God, which once towered above the harbor of Sulamala.”

  “Praise the goddess,” the castellan muttered. “Our trek is at an end. All information points to this city as the resting place of the Shadow Stone.”

  “Yup,” Johnny agreed. “And that also means that Prince Maxaltic and his band of merry monsters are here.”

  Captain Xicol approached. “Castellan, Marshal, a report: there are no remains near the crashed pod. Whoever traveled within made it out alive.”

  “Was there any indication of how long ago it came here?” Tenamic asked.

  “No, Archmage. As was the case at the first transport station, the eddying currents draw silt away. It may have impacted against those rocks earlier today or weeks ago.”

  “Or indeed in centuries past.”

  Casting a sober look in the sorcerer’s direction, Castellan Nalquiza made a decision. “Marshal, select a contingent to remain behind and guard the pods. We advance on the city at once.”

  With a hundred and twenty guards and ten officers arranged in a protective sphere around them, the twins, Tenamic, Ana and Mihuah swam toward the shattered remains of Sulamala. Once beyond the harbor, Carol began to panic. Though the vague outlines of broader streets could still be made out here and there, the rest of the city had been basically razed or was covered by strange, shimmering coral. A school of twisted fish exploded from a time-slagged structure. A cloud of bioluminescent organisms drifted overhead. Johnny lifted his hand to run his fingers through it, stirring sparkling eddies.

  Ana called for a halt. She stared at the map, swiveled around, searching for something. Then she chirped in annoyance.

  “This globe is useless. Nothing here is recognizable after 80,000 years. I cannot get my bearings.”

  The castellan rubbed at her scars in dismay. “That is ill news. How are we to find the palace?”

  “Don’t freak out,” Carol said. “If we’re having a hard time, so is her brother. It might be better for all of us if this place is too wrecked to find the Shadow Stone, anyway.”

  Nalquiza and Cenaman exchanged a glance that tied her stomach in knots.

  “Unless you guys are planning to recover the freaking thing yourselves, of course. Orders from the Queen?”

  Before they could respond, a form rocketed out of the ruins below, heading straight at them. Guards lifted their weapons and prepared to attack.

  Carol saw that it was a tlacamichin. Lifting her arms, she called out, “Hold on! Don’t kill it! Just catch it or something!”

  The m
arshal backed her up with a shouted order, and several tritons launched weighted nets at the creature.

  What are you doing, Sis?

  Don’t you think it’s weird that it’s by itself? Just hang on. Let me get some information from it. You’re on translation duty.

  The tlacamichin was thrashing in the grip of four guards, snarling and hissing. Carol dove toward them, shifting into a member of its race. When it saw her, it stilled its movements.

  “What are you doing with these atlacah?” it demanded.

  “I’m not actually a tlacamichin, sorry. I’ve assumed this shape so we can talk.”

  “Shape? Are you a nagual, then? A human?”

  “Yes. My name is Carol. Now tell me, who are you?”

  The creature’s demeanor softened. Carol realized it was a male.

  “I do not truly remember, Carol. I lost my name and my shoal many years ago. But I have known humans, and the human children called me Jabalí.”

  Holy crap, Carol! Johnny sent excitement and wonder. It’s the man-fish from Mom’s story. That’s insane!

  “Ah, Jabalí,” Carol muttered, moving close, gesturing the guards away from her as they attempted to stop her. “You poor soul. We know a fragment of your sad tale, friend. You were kind to those kids when you had no reason to be, when you were lost and alone.”

  Overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t quite name, she reached out and folded the tlacamichin in a scaly embrace.

  When she released him, his black eyes were full of wonder.

  “I have been alone for so many years, Carol. I thank you for the feel of your flesh. Tell me what I can do to help you. What is your purpose in this hated place?”

  She hesitated a moment, looking around at all the merfolk for whom Johnny was translating their exchange.

  Tell him, Sis. The worst that can happen is he’s actually working with Maxaltic.

  “Okay. A triton, the prince of Tapachco, is trying to get his hands on the Shadow Stone. We’re here to stop him.”

  A sorrowful grimace twisted Jabalí’s already gruesome features. “Ah, that damnable device. If you only knew the tragedy it has brought to my people…”

  “Tell me.”

  His webbed hands clutched nervously at the magma-warmed water. “It was during the last time that the seas were clogged with ice, perhaps 20,000 years ago. The Lord of Chaos reached out to us, tempting us with promises of might, of dominance—all Blessed Creatures under our rule. Hungry for power, hating ourselves as less than the others, we fell, Carol. That was a dark age. For all the expansive buildings we wrought, all the magic we mastered, all the nations we laid low, we were lost as a people, any jot of beauty or goodness effaced by our betrayal of creation itself.

  “After millennia, at the urging of the Lord of Chaos, we began to raid Atlan, searching for the Shadow Stone. At last it was found, along with a staff carved from the World Tree.”

  Johnny translated and there was a burst of excited murmuring all around.

  “Where were they kept, Jabalí?”

  “I do not know, Carol. Somewhere in this city, guarded constantly, awaiting the pleasure of the Lord of Chaos.”

  “Strange. Why weren’t they ever used?

  “Again, I do not know. Please forgive me. My memory is faulty, and furthermore what I tell you was passed down over many, many ages. You see, though my people had embraced chaos, a group of individuals faithful to the cause of creation survived in secret down the ages. Their numbers grew, and once the Shadow Stone was uncovered, they revealed themselves. A civil war erupted. Many thousands died.”

  Carol realized that the field of bones half-buried in slime beside the transport station were probably the result of this conflict.

  “And what happened to the stone and staff then?”

  “Those opposed to chaos were nearly eliminated, Carol. It took millennia to recover, for our numbers to swell to the point that we could be effective. We returned here mere centuries ago and found them unguarded, perhaps forgotten.”

  She reached out and seized his shoulder. “What did you do with them? Where are they now, Jabalí?”

  The tlacamichin reached up and laid his cold hand atop hers. “I cannot remember. Forgive me. Something happened…afterward. Some sort of…clash. My mind, Carol. It was…shattered. For more than a century, I have struggled to remember, to reconstruct the events that led to my memory loss. What I do know is that I awakened in a lagoon on the surface world, not knowing who or where I was. The humans were good to me, especially the children. Later I heard the call of my people and made my way back to the sea. But my shoal was gone. All that are left are the degenerate descendants of those who swore fealty to the Lord of Chaos.”

  Carol groaned in frustration. As her brother translated the last bit, angry and disappointed conversations bubbled and seethed among the merfolk.

  Archmage Tenamic swam up behind her. “This is pointless. He has given us nothing of real utility.”

  “Just hang on, okay? I’m not done asking him questions.”

  Jabalí glowered at the sorcerer. “I cannot perceive their dolphin sounds, Carol, but I can read lips, and I know Nahuatl. Tell the old triton that I do know one thing—the staff and stone no longer lie here in Atlan. I have searched these broken cities for decades. They are gone.”

  Johnny relayed this information, and the angry murmuring became chaos. The castellan and marshal sidled close to Carol, panic in their eyes.

  Nalquiza squared herself against Jabalí. “Read the words from my lips, tlacamichin. Have you seen the prince or his army?”

  “No, scarred siren general. No one else is here. No sentient being has ventured into this cavern for at least half a year.”

  Marshal Cenaman butted in after hearing the translation. “What about the pod that is crashed near the transport station?”

  “I found it thus when I first arrived, warrior, nearly a century ago.”

  Shuddering with the implications, Carol shifted into siren form. Her eyes went wide with shock.

  “Oh, my God, everyone. It was a trick. The whole thing was just a trick!”

  They were six kilometers beneath the sea, three thousand kilometers from their parents and the merfolk of Tapachco.

  The only protection for everyone they loved had been removed.

  There was nothing to stop Maxaltic or Tezcatlipoca now.

  The cold, dark expanse of the Deep seemed to filter into Carol’s very soul, gleeful and cruel, drowning and freezing every last hope.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Johnny thought his heart would burst. He clenched his fists in desperation.

  Mom’s in danger. Damn you, Xolotl—you promised me a path! The stupid Atoyatl can’t get us back in time, so where is it, huh? Quetzalcoatl told the Little People we’d be “aided in the hour of our greatest need.” This is pretty much that hour, dude!

  Then it came to him. There was already one person present who fit the bill of deus ex machina, wasn’t there?

  Roughly shifting into tlacamichin form, Johnny rushed down at Jabalí. Carol looked up at him, despair clouding her eyes.

  What are we going to do, Johnny? If he kills them…

  No one’s killing anybody. Just hush. I’ve got this.

  “You. Jabalí. Got a riddle for you. A god told me that when the moment came, a path would be opened for us down here. What do you think he meant?”

  The man-fish looked at him oddly, sucking water into his mouth in small gasping swallows.

  “Well, you two are twin nahualtin. Perhaps you can use the sacred apiyaztli.”

  Johnny lifted a hand. “Wait. We know what those are. Water tunnels. Our dad’s researching some in a temple in Mexico.”

  “I am not referring to those physical constructs, brother of Carol. Instead, I mean the conduits used by the gods to pass from one realm to another in a mere instant.”

  “Okay, okay. That’s pretty cool. Good sign. Oh, name’s Johnny, by the way. So you’re saying there’s
a sacred apiyaztli here? In Sulamala?”

  “Yes. In the Temple of Matlalcueyeh. If you will permit me, I will guide you and your atlacah soldiers to it.”

  Now it was Johnny’s turn to give old gill-man a big hug. “Permit you?” he laughed as he pulled away. “Dude, you may have just saved our parents’ lives. I’m going to be in your debt for a long time.”

  Carol had already translated the exchange when he turned to the castellan, shifting to triton form.

  “We need to follow him. This is our only chance at stopping the prince and his crazy allies.”

  “Agreed.”

  Nalquiza gave the order, and soon the guards had reconfigured themselves into a wedge formation. Jabalí swam at the apex, guiding the regiment over buildings so corroded they might as well have been natural features of the cavern. From time to time Johnny could make out massive columns and sprawling squares, but for the most part magic, time, and theft had reduced Sulamala to nothing.

  Johnny glanced at Ana, who was visibly distraught. On the trip down into the Abyss, she had opened up even more to him, sharing her fears over her brother’s choices. She really did love Maxaltic, even though they had grown distant since she had become an Air Sage and the Royal Historian.

  “I know there is little I can do once we find him,” Ana had told Johnny. “His fate will be in his own hands and yours. Promise me you will try not to hurt him too badly. He has merely been deceived. There is an essential goodness in him. If we capture him, efforts can be made to reform his heart.”

  Johnny had sworn to do all he could to end the conflict with as little harm as possible. In all honesty, Maxaltic was a small fry in this struggle. Tezcatlipoca was the scum that needed to be eradicated, not the prince.

  Now, in the ruddy light of Atlan, Johnny tried to reassure his friend once more.

  “It’s going to be okay, Ana. We’re going to get out of here and stop them before they hurt your people or mine.”

  She did her best to smile at him, but her blue lips trembled slightly with worry.