The Battle of Riptide

by EJ Altbacker

  “And that’s just what’s here today,” Shell added. “They could bring more. A lot more.”

  “Yes,” Quickeyes agreed. “You’re probably right.”

  Onyx’s tail drooped. He brushed the sandy bottom of the seabed, raising a cloud of sand. “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” Unlike Striiker, once Onyx thought things through, he was more likely to come to a wise decision. Gray hoped the great white would learn this skill one day.

  “Is there a place to go where there are less of them?” asked Snork. “A place that Indi sharks don’t like?”

  “If they don’t like it, we probably wouldn’t, either,” Sandy told the sawfish. “What we have in common far outweighs our differences.”

  “But we’re not eating the seasoned heads of everyone we meet,” Shell said in his understated way.

  Earlier in the day, Onyx had infiltrated Indi Shiver as a hunter. Since the blacktip wore their tattoos, he’d been able to get away with it, and even brought back a few fish. Onyx had heard many things about Finnivus. Unfortunately, none of them were good.

  Gray pondered. “Maybe they’ll leave soon. Like the other places you heard they conquered.”

  Onyx nodded. “The word around camp is that Finnivus hates everything that isn’t the Indi homewaters.”

  “So that’s good,” said Mari.

  “No. They’ll leave a force of mariners to hold the territory,” Barkley noted. “Or else what’s the point of conquering anything?”

  “But a holding force would be smaller and easier to avoid, or fight, than this armada,” Sandy countered. “The least dangerous course of action seems to be to hide and wait.”

  “Hide and wait, hide and wait,” Striiker blurted. “That’s all you ever want to do!”

  Gray was about to come to his mother’s defense, but she stopped him with the twitch of a fin. She could fight her own battles. “Sometimes that’s the smart thing to do, Striiker. Never let your pride get you into a fight. Especially one you can’t win.”

  The great white caught Gray glaring at him over his mother’s dorsal and didn’t argue.

  “Okay, I’ve heard enough,” said Quickeyes. The thresher looked around the gathered sharkkind. Various dwellers waited to see what, if anything, would be decided. “Coral Shiver will stay and keep our snouts in the greenie for now. If Rogue wants to leave—of course they can. We’ll quietly search for other homewaters while we’re waiting this out. One that’s farther away from the Riptide territory and more defensible.” It was easy for Quickeyes to use the name Riptide. He had never known it as Goblin Shiver.

  Shell looked to Gray. “What do you think?”

  As Rogue Shiver’s leader, Gray had to make his thoughts known to his own Line. “It’s the best plan for now. If something changes, or anyone wants to leave, come talk with me.”

  “And the training?” Striiker asked. Coral Shiver sharks, even pups, were being taught by Striiker and Onyx to fight. This had never been done before, but sadly, now it was needed.

  “The training should continue,” Gray told everyone.

  But what good would the out-of-date drills they had learned from Goblin do against Indi Shiver? Not much. Gray guessed something was better than nothing. Just not by a lot.

  The shiver council meeting ended with everyone drifting off in twos and threes. Quickeyes swam over to Gray just as he was about to get a few words alone with his mother.

  “You didn’t say too much during the meeting,” the thresher told him.

  “I didn’t have anything important to add,” Gray answered sheepishly.

  “Listening usually beats talking. Most fins don’t learn that until they’re much older than you.” Quickeyes glanced at Striiker, who was having an energetic argument with Mari and Barkley. “Or not at all.”

  “Give him a chance,” Gray told Coral’s leader. “It takes a while to get used to his . . . let’s say, colorful personality, but Striiker’s loyal.”

  Quickeyes nodded at the comment and gave a look to Sandy. “He really has grown up and done you proud.” He waggled a fin at Gray. “How’s it going with Takiza?”

  “You remember how mad I used to make you and everyone else? It’s a good day when I only make him that mad.”

  Sandy and Quickeyes chuckled. The thresher swished his long tail once and swam off. “Please keep us informed about what you’re doing.”

  Gray got to catch up with his mother then. For a little while, it was just the two of them and that was great. For some reason being with his mom made him feel like everything was going to turn out all right. Gray knew his feelings wouldn’t do him any good in a real fight—then he’d rather have Striiker at his flank—but it was nice.

  Barkley and Mari came over. Barkley gestured at Striiker talking with Onyx. “That great white chowderhead tires me out just listening. I’m so glad Quickeyes is more like you, Sandy.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, Barkley, but the truth is, Striiker and Onyx are right.”

  “What!” Barkley exclaimed a little too loudly. Striiker and Onyx stared for a moment but then went back to their energetic conversation. The dogfish lowered his voice. “You can’t be serious. Their type of thinking will get us killed.”

  “What do you mean, Mom?” Gray asked. Mari swam closer so she could hear everything.

  “We won’t be able to feed the shiver with just a few of us quietly hunting,” Gray’s mother explained. “This type of living has a time limit. We either find a place that’s safe—something that might not exist if Indi Shiver tightens their grip on the major hunting territories—or we have to face them.”

  “They may still go back to their own homewaters,” Mari added, but without much conviction.

  Barkley knew Sandy was right and was dismayed. “We can’t win. I saw them fight. We can’t!”

  Mari bumped the dogfish’s flank. “Quit bringing us down, Barkley. We’re safe and all together right now. Let’s be happy about that.”

  Barkley nodded. “You’re right. And who knows? Maybe Takiza will teach Gray a few tricks, and he’ll beat up their armada all by himself!”

  “Yeah, right,” Gray said as he gave his friend a good-natured tail slap. “Or maybe you and Yappy can just talk them to death.”

  “Did someone say my name?” shouted Yappy. “You guys done with your big meeting? We had one, too! During our meeting a sea cucumber scared Prime Minister Shocks. Can you believe that? They move so slowly, and still, Shocks got scared! Ha! Hey, where do you think sea cucumbers come from?”

  Barkley looked at Gray with a mock-annoyed expression. “This is your fault.”

  Mari snorted, and Snork also came over, swimming low and digging through the greenie with his long saw bill, looking for treats. The topics of the ensuing conversation were many and varied. Gray, Barkley, Mari, and Sandy said nothing. They just relaxed, and for this night, tried to forget their troubles.

  It didn’t work for Gray, though. He knew that soon, someone—or more likely an armada of someones—would have to swim out and face Finnivus and his black wave of mariners.

  WHALEM’S SPINE ACHED, AS IT DID FROM TIME to time. Remaining stock-still, at the hover—as Finnivus’s coronation ceremony required—was the absolute worst! Bruises from battles fought in his younger days were calcifying and growing stiff with his advanced years. And performing attention hover added greatly to Whalem’s spinal pain. It was difficult to execute for long periods of time, and he had ordered the armada to assume this position almost an hour ago. Whalem heard the groans of his mariners only in his mind as they were too disciplined to express their discomfort out loud. Now, what they were thinking was another matter.

  There wasn’t a thing to do to slow the tide of old age, but following the royal doctor fish’s advice to stretch and bend each morning did help. Whalem had also used that
time to ask Tyro to give Finnivus the understanding of his almost limitless power and the wisdom never to use it.

  So far, either Tyro wasn’t hearing him, or Finnivus wasn’t listening to Tyro.

  The current increased slightly. Whalem moved his tail fins in almost imperceptible strokes to hold his position stock-still in relation to Finnivus’s throne. Oh, how he wished the ceremony would end!

  Whalem knew it was an insult for him not to be next to the other royal sharks in the court. One of his commanders, or even a subcommander, could very ably have led the armada in attention hover. Whalem almost chuckled, picturing Finnivus trying to maintain attention hover for even five minutes. The spoiled pup had never known a day when he wasn’t waited on snout and fin. If the royal seasoners didn’t place food directly in his mouth, Finnivus might starve in the open ocean.

  Tydal, the epaulette court shark, glided down a track of brilliant red and blue crabs underneath him. Thankfully, it seemed the ceremony was coming to its important bit. Tydal stopped smartly and began to recite the words that would make Finnivus emperor. By coincidence, a bitter cold current flowed through the area.

  Staying in formation was now complete agony! Whalem willed Tydal to hurry. The little epaulette shark did do his job well. From negotiating with the nearby whales to form a choir to changing what had been Riptide Shiver’s homewaters over to Indi colors, everything looked very regal.

  In a steady and clear voice, Tydal began the final proclamation. Surely, the first court shark must know that the slightest mistake here would guarantee his shrieking death. But the epaulette went on, smooth and steady. “Whereas it pleased Tyro to call our glorious King Romulus Victor to the Sparkle Blue and replace him with his even more glorious son Finnivus Victor, we are awed and inspired to acknowledge that his kingly rank must be raised due to his numerous magnificent accomplishments!”

  The soon-to-be emperor squealed and giggled in delight as the battles of the Indi armada now became exaggerated tall tales. For example, in the Arktik, the armada hadn’t even seen a single orca, but that campaign was now called the Destruction of Icingholme Shiver Homewaters and Its Mighty Orckic Battle Pods.

  Tydal went on, “So the good fins of the Big Blue acknowledge and recognize that through his mastery of the martial arts and uncountable victories, King Finnivus Victor shall be hereby and forever known as Emperor Finnivus Victor Triumphant, Conqueror of the Seven Seas and Overlord of the Four Oceans. All sharkkind and dwellers will bow before Finnivus Victor Triumphant!”

  There was a muted thwump as every fin and dweller present did a communal head bob of deference. Whalem cast his eyes downward and looked up at the eager new emperor, swishing his tail back and forth in excitement. Tydal shouted, “I give you Emperor of all the Waters, Finnivus Triumphant! ALL HAIL THE EMPEROR!”

  The gathered crowd and armada responded, “HAIL! HAIL! LONG LIVE EMPEROR FINNIVUS VICTOR TRIUMPHANT!” Whalem moved his mouth but couldn’t bring himself to say the words with any conviction. But it did give him a chance to ease out of the strict attention hover. He saw the armada take the same liberty and allowed it. After a moment, everyone relaxed. Finnivus and the royals in the court no longer cared about them. The armada was only in their minds when they were in danger or needed something conquered. Otherwise, they didn’t care a fin flick for any mariner’s sacrifices.

  Whalem had his commanders dismiss the armada. They could watch the festivities from a respectful distance or go hunt or rest. He could see that the mariners who chose hunting or sleeping far outnumbered those who wanted to watch the emperor enjoy himself. Whalem began swimming away to get some sleep, but a squaline intercepted him.

  “Mariner Prime, you are summoned to court to congratulate the Emperor Finnivus.” Whalem followed the guard to where Finnivus held court. He was made to wait by another nervous squaline, who mumbled, “I am sorry, Mariner Prime. Orders.”

  “Do your duty,” Whalem replied evenly, grinding his notched teeth in annoyance. Another insult.

  Tydal saw this and darted over. “What are you doing? Don’t you recognize the first in the Line of Indi Shiver and mariner prime of the armada?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. . . .” The guard looked over Tydal’s shoulder and received a nod from the commander of the squaline. “Go right on through, sir. Very sorry.”

  Whalem swam toward Finnivus with Tydal at his side.

  “I apologize Mariner Prime. I hadn’t thought to check if—if something like that would happen.”

  “You had other things on your mind,” Whalem responded.

  Tydal nodded and went ahead to announce his arrival. Beside Finnivus was Velenka, the former leader of Riptide Shiver. Whalem could see the mako was already bumping snouts for position in the royal court. After Tydal spoke low to Finnivus, the emperor shouted across the homewaters, “Come, come! Whalem, my first! Where have you been?”

  “With the armada, sir, as ancient protocol did dictate.”

  Finnivus grinned. “Oh, that! Pish-posh, you should have been here! Father would have insisted! You were friends, yes?”

  Whalem’s insides turned to stone. Finnivus knew very well that he and Romulus were like brothers. “Yes,” he answered. “He would have insisted.”

  One of the pups from the Line saw an opening and pounced. “What do you mean? Are you saying that Emperor Finnivus wronged you in some way?”

  The shocking falseness of the question caught Whalem by surprise. How could anyone doubt his loyalty? He should have immediately said something—become enraged at the smart-mouthed flipper—but was stunned silent. He caught a glimpse of Finnivus, who instead of protesting the innocent mistake, watched Whalem like he was some sort of traitor!

  “Should I have taken time on the day of my royal coronation as emperor of the entire Big Blue to make sure you came to the ceremony?” Finnivus asked mockingly, getting a laugh from the court.

  “Of course not, Your Majesty,” Whalem began. Then his emotions got the best of him, and he added, “But you could have sent someone.” There was silence in the court.

  “This is an outrage, Emperor!” someone yelled from the Line.

  Finnivus looked down from his position over Speakers Rock and said, “We are not offended.” But the emperor’s words did not match the flat, dead look in his eyes. “You seem tired, Whalem. You are very old. Get some rest.”

  And there it was. He was dismissed.

  As he left, Whalem caught Tydal watching. Of course, he couldn’t tell what the court shark was thinking, unlike the pups of the Line who were absolutely giddy at his mistake. Whalem was mariner prime and first in the Line in name only now. How soon would his head be first in the line at the royal seasoners?

  GRAY AND TAKIZA WERE BACK AT THE TRAINING ground next to the Maw. It was pitch-black, for it was night above the chop-chop, with no moon to provide even a little light. The ancient coral spires stood, wickedly sharp and unmoving, mocking him in the darkness. The greenie harness chafed and rubbed Gray raw under his fins and belly. How Takiza had managed to weave it was a marvel. The frilly betta took a long strand of greenie in his mouth and looped through the water this way and that, almost faster than the eye could see. When it was done, Gray didn’t know what to make of it. But now that the harness was on him, he knew exactly what it was—a torture device.

  “Can I take a break, Shiro?”

  Takiza released a frustrated whoosh of water from his gills. “You may loaf after you have mastered this exercise. Unfortunately, you have all the grace of a pregnant sea cow, and I despair of you ever completing this task.”

  Gray muttered underneath his breath, “I’ll give you a pregnant sea cow . . .”

  Takiza gave him a surprisingly strong tail slap across the snout. “What was that, Nulo?”

  “Nothing, Shiro!”

  “I know it was nothing. The vast majority of t
hings you say are nothing. So stop muttering and concentrate! Now—again!”

  Gray could hear the greenie in the harness stretch as he pulled the giant rock inside off the seabed. He navigated the course carefully, floating the rock between, over, and under various obstacles. “Good, feel the weight and shape of the burden you are carrying. Use your lateral line to sense it as if it were an extension of your own pudgy body,” Takiza said into his ear.

  “I’m not pudgy, Shiro! Mom says I’m just big cartilaged,” Gray answered through clenched teeth as he strained.

  Another tail slap. “Quiet, Nulo! Your mother is a gentle soul who was merely being kind! Listen and learn!”

  “Yeah, right,” Gray said sarcastically. “Because I’m sooo special. But will you tell me why I’m special? Why I have to do this stuff? Nooo.” He looked Takiza right in the eye, something that usually made the Siamese fighting fish act like his name.

  Instead, his teacher sighed. “If I tell you some small bit of what I know, will there be no more complaining for the rest of this session?”

  Gray couldn’t believe his luck! Maybe he’d just worn Takiza down! He found that hard to believe, but wasn’t going to look a gift bluefin in the mouth. “Yes! I promise. No more complaining!”

  “There is an ancient prophecy that tells of a great sharkkind leading every good fin in the ocean against an ancient evil.”

  “And?”

  The little betta ruffled his fins. “And I have now told you one small bit of prophecy.”

  “But that could mean anything!” Gray whined. “And it could be for anyone!”

  “Yes, it could. Frustrating, isn’t it? That’s why it’s best not to put too much stock in prophecy. Now, I have kept my end of the bargain—”

  “By tricking me!” Gray interrupted, whipping his tail back and forth to try and warm up.

  Takiza shook his head. “Oh, if tricking you were less easy, your training would proceed much faster. I could never trick Lochlan, my golden apprentice. But you? Every time it gets easier. Come, Nulo, swim!”