JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES jp-1

by G. Norman Lippert

  “Velierus,” he said, as quietly as he could. A tiny burst of blue light illuminated the bed, and the parchments folded together, doubling over repeatedly until all that remained was a thick packet, no bigger than an auger. It was totally seamless, as if it was encased in a perfect sphere of parchment. Kneeling, James hid both his wand and the secret package in the bottom of his bag. A moment later, he threw himself onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

  He would read Petra’s dream story soon. Until then, he relished the idea that she had chosen him, and him alone, to share it with. He had suggested it, of course, but the fact remained that she had accepted his offer. She trusted him. She was glad of his presence. And what else had she said? He made her laugh. James’ cousin Lucy had said the same thing to him once, last year, after Granddad’s funeral, but it seemed so much more meaningful, so much more portentous, when Petra said it. He sighed, remembering the sound of her voice, the pleasing music of her laughter, sad and weary as it may have been.

  It doesn’t mean anything, he told himself, but they were only words, and his heart didn’t believe them. Secretly, his heart rejoiced. Eventually, smiling faintly, he slept.

  3. EIGHTYEIGHT KNOTS

  The next morning, as James and his family and friends made their way to breakfast, they were greeted by a spectacular sight. The view beyond the submerged city’s crystal enclosures was a green-gold vista, filled with shimmering beams of dawn sunlight, gently streaming rafts of bubbles, and schools of silvery fish, all of which played over and around the glittering Atlantean cityscape.

  James, Albus, and Lucy gazed with rapt curiosity as several strange shapes moved slowly through the water, angling back and forth between the distant ocean surface. The shapes were rather like long mirrored bubbles, some as large as a city bus, and all rippling in the faint Atlantic currents. Far below these, along the city’s sloping, rocky foothills, James spied the unique patterns of sprawling oceanic gardens. Streaming leaves of kelp and neat rows of sea cucumbers grew alongside fields of far stranger and more colourful fruits and vegetables. Giant octopuses moved slowly through the gardens, and Lucy was the first to notice that they were being ridden upon by Atlantean farmers, their chests bare and their heads encased in glittering copper and crystal helmets.

  As the students watched, the octopuses used their long agile arms to harvest some of the fields, and to tend to others, weeding or pruning them. One of the octopuses suddenly spread all of its arms and then contracted them together, shooting forward like a lithe torpedo. It rose up into the city swiftly, propelled by its powerful tentacles, and Albus gasped and pointed, laughing out loud; one of the Atlantean farmers was being towed behind the octopus, tethered to it by a long length of cord and standing on a sort of rounded board, which he used like a fin to steer and bob through the currents. As the pair rose into the city, chased by their shadow, James couldn’t help thinking that both the octopus and the rider seemed to be having a grand time of it. Swiftly, the octopus banked and spun, following the contours of the streets and streaming under bridges and walkways, until it roared directly in front of the window, a long dark shape against the brilliant beams of watery sunlight. The Atlantean farmer passed by a split second later, his legs flexing as he carved the currents with his bullet-like board.

  “I wonder where he’s going?” Albus asked, trying to peer up past the angle of the window.

  “Probably bringing us our breakfast,” his mum replied, gently pushing him onward. “If we don’t hurry, we won’t have time to eat it. We cast off in less than an hour.”

  A short while later, after a light breakfast of kippers and toast, the troop made their way toward a section of the city that Merlin referred to as the Aquapolis Major Moonpool. James didn’t know what to expect, but was delighted and curious to find, upon their arrival, a massive amphitheater-like room which surrounded a huge dark pool of ocean water. Busy Atlantean witches and wizards milled on the circular terraces and steep staircases that surrounded the pool, which bobbed with all manner of boats.

  “Looks like King’s Cross on a Monday morning,” James heard Denniston Dolohov comment, laughing.

  “I don’t expect that’s too far from the truth, either,” Neville Longbottom replied.

  As the travelers made their way down toward the pool, James watched Atlantean conductors directing bits of the crowd this way and that, threading them along floating gangplanks and onto the decks of long narrow boats. The boats were wooden, decorated fore and aft with large carved curlicues. Men dressed in bright red tunics and high, fin-shaped caps stood on the sterns of the boats, next to the rudder lever, reading newspapers or consulting schedules as the ornately crafted benches filled before them.

  A chime rang out in the bowl of the room, overriding the babble of voices. It was followed by an echoing female voice. “All commuters destined for Conch Corners and the Octodome, your skiff is departing now. Please stand clear of the descending bubble, in three, two…”

  James glanced up as a gust of air pounded through the space from above, rippling through the commuters’ robes and Merlin’s long beard. The round, crystal skylight in the center of the ceiling bulged downwards at the force of the gust. The window elongated, trembled, and popped free, forming a monstrous, rainbow-streaked bubble. The bubble dropped precipitously onto one of the long boats, enveloping it, and then sank away into the depths, taking the boat with it. Amazingly, none of the gathered throng seemed alarmed or even to have noticed what had happened.

  “I did some reading on this last night,” Lucy said faintly, looking at the domed ceiling. “In the Atlantean Library. It’s sort of a wonder of the world, you know, second only to the great library at Alexandria.”

  “Fascinating,” Albus said. “You know how interested we all are in libraries, but maybe you can get to the bit about the giant doom bubbles swallowing up ships.”

  “Well, I’m making some guesses here,” Lucy replied, following as the troop threaded onto a narrow gangplank, “but the entire continent of Atlantis has volcanic origins. Unfortunately, the volcanoes that created the continent are what ended up destroying it, breaking it up and stripping away all of its foundations. The Atlanteans harnessed the power of the volcanoes, though, and used their vents to power their industry. I would guess that that’s what’s behind all of this.”

  “What do you mean?” Ralph asked, stepping, somewhat reluctantly, onto the deck of one of the narrow boats, which was about the size of the Knight Bus. The boat captain stood in his red tunic and funny hat, scowling at a series of copper gauges installed on a post near the rudder lever.

  “I suspect that those big gusts of air are volcanic exhaust,” Lucy frowned thoughtfully. “And this pool is probably part of the subterranean vent system.”

  “No fears, everyone,” Percy said cheerfully, leading Molly and Audrey to one of the benches near the front of the boat. “But do strap in and hold tight. I’ve heard this can be quite a ride.”

  “The famed Aquapolis Transit Authority,” Harry said, seating himself between Ginny and Lily. “The scheduling and dispatching model for the entire wizarding world. Percy’s right. Strap in and hold onto your bags, everyone.”

  Albus glanced at James with an expression of mingled excitement and trepidation.

  “So what’s it do?” Ralph asked. “I haven’t had the greatest luck with wizarding transportation systems.”

  “There’s no way to explain it properly before we leave, Ralph,” Petra answered, buckling the copper clasps of her safety belt and helping Izzy with hers. “One word of advice before we go though.”

  Ralph looked at her a bit helplessly. “What’s that?”

  “Swallow your gum.”

  Another chime rang through the crowded space. James looked around at the bobbing boats, the floating gangplanks, the throngs of busy Atlantean commuters on the terraces above, and grinned with nervous anticipation. Once again, the female voice rang out.

  “All commuters destined for the su
rface and launch points beyond, your skiff is departing now. Please stand clear of the descending bubble, in three, two…”

  As one, the travelers looked up. High above, the bubble ceiling bulged downwards, pushed by a blast of warm, vaguely sulfur-scented air. The bubble expanded, broke away, and dropped onto them. James couldn’t help ducking and covering his head. A sudden burst of pressure popped his ears and he felt the boat drop away beneath him as the bubble distorted the surface of the water, turning it concave. And then, with a dull, gurgling roar, the bubble dropped into darkness, taking the boat, and all those aboard, down with it.

  Green darkness surrounded the boat. James drew a breath to comment on it, but a sudden explosion of velocity forced the air right back out of his lungs. Inertia pushed him back into his seat like a giant, soft hand. The ship’s captain clung to the rudder lever as the bubble carried the craft forward, sucked into a tube of rough, dark rock. The noise of the journey was a dull thunder, pushing on James’ ears like cotton batting. He turned to look at Albus and then Ralph, both of whom were staring with wide eyes, Albus in delight, Ralph with green-faced terror. In front of them, Petra had her arm around Izzy, who was looking around with undisguised wonder. To James’ complete amazement, the rest of the travelers (his family and Merlin excluded) were completely ignoring the dark view that rushed around them. Most of the Atlanteans had their noses buried in books and small scrolls or were busily tapping notes onto tablets with glimmering, enchanted chisels. One of them, a man with a long grey beard and red leather sandals on his feet, was sprawled on a corner bench, dozing.

  In the darkness far ahead of the boat, a glimmer of purple light appeared. It grew with shocking speed, and James craned in his seat to watch it flash past. The purple glow formed very angular words, which shone brightly in the darkness: ‘PHEBES-DUOPHENES’. A glowing arrow pointed downwards, toward an enormous copper-framed valve, which snapped open as the ship passed it. In the darkness behind, another bubble ship shot into the open valve, which winked shut again with a barely audible clang.

  While turned around in his seat, James saw that the job of the captain was not so much to steer the ship as it was to angle it up the sides of the bubble as it shot around curves, thereby conserving the monumental centrifugal forces and keeping the passengers more or less in their seats. In the darkness it was hard to tell, but James had a sense that much of the time, the boat was sideways, or even upside-down, carried full circle around the circumference of the bubble as it rocketed through the curving vent tunnels. More copper-valved exits flashed past, listing off districts of the city.

  There was one harrowing moment when another larger bubble ship appeared in the tunnel before them, moving much more slowly, and James was certain that their smaller boat was going to ram into it. The captain twitched the rudder lever deftly, however, and James felt their boat revolve swiftly up, changing their inertia just enough to push the bubble over the larger boat. For one bizarre moment, James and his companions found themselves upside-down, looking up on the larger boat as it passed beneath them. The captain of the larger boat tipped a quick salute to the captain in the smaller boat as it roared fleetingly overhead.

  Finally, a much larger valve appeared in the dark distance, enclosing what appeared to be the end of the tunnel. The glowing purple letters over it read: ‘SURFACE AND ALL POINTS NORTH’.

  “Be prepared for sudden stops,” the captain bellowed in a clipped monotone. James gripped his seat and gritted his teeth.

  The bubble ship shot through the valve and into blinding golden light. Instantly, the ship lost almost all of its momentum and dragged to a near halt. James felt the safety belt pinch his middle as inertia threw him forward. A second later, the force broke and he flopped backwards against the bench, his hair flying. He looked around dazedly.

  Petra ran a hand through her hair and smiled down at Izzy, who clapped her hands in delight.

  “That was excellent!” Albus cried.

  Lucy smoothed her blouse and looked aside. “How are you doing, Ralph?”

  Ralph blinked. “You know,” he mused, “I think I was too startled to realize I should be sick.”

  James craned to look behind him again. The bubble ship was still underwater, moving up and away from the submerged city. Even now, the sprawling Aquapolis was growing faint in the shimmering distance. James understood now what the mysterious shapes were that he had seen earlier that morning, the mirrored bubbles that had moved ponderously back and forth between the city and the ocean’s surface. He and his fellow travelers were inside one of them now.

  “I think I could live here,” he murmured, turning back around in his seat.

  “Ugh, not me,” his cousin Molly replied from a few benches away, seated between Aunt Audrey and Uncle Percy. “Too cold and dark.”

  “That’s what makes it so cool,” Albus argued. “It reminds me of the Slytherin dungeons under the lake.”

  James felt a small pang at that, remembering once again that they had all left Hogwarts behind them for the year, but he pushed the feeling away. The experience of the bubble ship was too cool to ruin with depressing thoughts about what he might be missing back home. Besides, he reminded himself, Rose, Louis, Hugo, and all the rest were probably just now settling into one of Professor Binns’ long incomprehensible lectures or a dull study period in the library, under the strict supervision of Professor Knossus Shert. If they knew what James and his fellow travelers had just experienced, they would likely be sick with envy—even Scorpius, although he would probably hide it well. This made James grin.

  He looked up as the bubble ship rose into daylight. The surface rippled overhead like a living mosaic, its facets casting the sunlight into wild, golden prisms. Finally, the ship heaved onto the waves, where it splashed down gently and bobbed, still glimmering in its long mysterious bubble. The Gwyndemere stood some distance away, rocking on the waves, sunlight sparkling from its brass fixtures.

  “Hup, hup, everyone,” Percy called, collecting his overnight bag and standing up. “Let us be off.” With his bag dangling from his hand, he extended one arm to Molly and the other to Lucy. She sidled out of her seat and approached her father, threading her arm into the crook of his elbow.

  “See you on board,” she called back. A moment later, there was a loud, flat crack in the enclosed air of the bubble, and the three had disappeared.

  Ralph looked confused. “Why couldn’t we just Disapparate from the city, if that’s how we’re getting on board the boat?”

  “Apparating through water is extremely tricky business, Mr. Deedle,” Merlin answered, beckoning him over. “Especially onto a moving ship. Besides, we would have missed that wonderful tube ride, wouldn’t we have?”

  “Come on!” James grinned, unbuckling his safety belt and scrambling up off the bench. “Last one on the Gwyndemere is a hinkypunk’s uncle!”

  “It isn’t a race,” Ginny chided, standing and extending a hand to Lily.

  “Speak for yourself,” Harry replied, stepping forward to meet his sons. “I’m not going to spend this voyage as a hinkypunk’s uncle.”

  Both Albus and James grabbed one of their dad’s hands. A moment later, the bubble ship vanished around them and was replaced by the deck of the Gwyndemere, which glowed in the morning sunlight. Cool wind coursed over the ship, singing in James’ ears, and he immediately broke away from his father, laughing and running toward the bow.

  “My feet were first to touch the deck,” Albus called from behind. “I jumped right before we Disapparated so I’d land here first. You lose!”

  James ignored his brother as he neared the pointed prow of the ship, slowing to a stop, his eyes widening.

  “Mum just got here with Lil,” Albus announced, catching up. “She says we’re supposed to take our bags down to the cabins and what in Merlin’s magic mousehole is that?”

  “Haven’t the faintest,” James replied, approaching the strange shape. “It wasn’t here before, was it?”

  Ralp
h, Izzy, and Lucy joined the boys as they moved around the object. It had apparently been installed on the deck since last night’s arrival and it was, essentially, a very ornate brass chair, elevated atop a series of five wrought iron steps. The chair was fitted onto a swiveling base and had a complicated brass armature attached to its front. James studied it but couldn’t begin to imagine what the armature was for.

  “You’re the smart one, Lucy,” he said, scratching his head. “What do you think this thing is for?”

  “Rose is the smart one,” Lucy admonished, mildly annoyed. “I just read a lot.”

  Ralph frowned crookedly. “What’s the difference, exactly?

  Izzy widened her eyes solemnly. “Petra says smart is in the brain of the perceiver.”

  “Whatever that means,” Ralph muttered.

  “Yeah,” Albus insisted, reaching to touch the ornately crafted stairs, “but you’re good at seeing how stuff fits together, Lu. It’s a knack.”

  “Looks to me,” Lucy sighed, walking around to the front of the strange fixture, “like something is missing. See that brass flange there on the end of the pivoting arm thing? Something is meant to fit into it.”

  “See?” Albus crowed, running around to the front to join Lucy. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

  James heard the low voices of adults nearby. He turned and saw Merlin, Denniston Dolohov, and the Gwyndemere’s captain, Ash Farragut, approaching slowly.

  “We haven’t any time to spare, unfortunately, captain,” Merlin was saying. “I am quite happy to leave matters in the hands of your very capable crew.”

  Farragut nodded cynically. “All too capable, if you take my meaning.”

  “Piracy isn’t what it used to be,” Merlin said, smiling. “In my day, one couldn’t ply the waves without expecting to be boarded by any number of competing piratical hoards. They were like swarms of bees on the high seas. Considering the preventative measures enacted by the Magical Maritime Regulatory Commission, I suspect we will manage just fine, whatever befalls us.”