Song of the Deep

by Brian Hastings

  Abruptly, the sentinel turns back around and shines its beam into the cave entrance.

  “No!” I scream, bubbles flying up in front of my eyes. With a quick kick of my legs, I flip myself back toward the rear of the sentinel. I grab onto its wide fan-like rudder with both hands and kick my legs as hard as I can, driving its tail downward and its nose up into the air. I can feel it wrestling with me, trying to turn back around, but I hold on tight, refusing to let it turn toward the cave.

  Suddenly the sentinel is lit up, its hull becoming a brilliant gleaming gold. Another beam is shining on me from behind. I turn around just in time to see the other sentinel closing in, its torpedo tubes aimed straight at me. I see the puff of bubbles out of the corner of my eye as I dive down. The torpedo misses me and slams into the other sentinel. A blast of water knocks me against the rock wall above the cave as a shower of shining golden fragments pours down all around me. Something heavy hits me in the back, taking my breath away.

  Still shaken by the blast, I try to swim toward the second sentinel. If I can just reach its rudder . . .

  But it’s too late. The sentinel backs up and lowers its torpedo tubes straight at me. There’s nowhere to hide. I close my eyes, bracing for the blast.

  I wince as I hear a loud crunch of metal. When I open my eyes, I see Swish has bitten into the side of the sentinel and is shaking it back and forth in his mouth. Splinters of gold fly in all directions as Swish tears through it as if it were made out of paper.

  Swish swims back toward me as the last metal scraps of the deadly sentinel drift harmlessly down to the seafloor. I wrap my arms around his neck in a hug. He licks my face with his giant scratchy tongue.

  I’ve made up my mind now. I have to try to make it to the Forbidden City to stop the sentinels. I can only hope my father made it there safely as well, and we’ll be reunited there.

  Back in the cave, Cara has her body curled around the eggs, trying to protect them. The seahorse is floating at the entrance, standing guard. He must have known that he would have been torn to shreds by the sentinel, but he stayed there anyway.

  “You’re very brave,” I tell him. He lowers his head a little bit. “I can see why Cara cares so deeply for you.” It may have been my imagination, but for a moment I thought the light inside him glowed a little bit brighter.

  I swim to a thick patch of kelp and cut the longest strands I can, hanging them over the cave entrance to camouflage it. Then I search through the coral and bring back twelve more scallops, laying them down at the floor of the cave. Through the kelp, I call softly to Cara.

  “I’m going to try to reach the Forbidden City now.”

  “No! I can’t let you . . .” Cara’s voice sounds weak and frail.

  “If you lead me to the entrance of the impassable lands, I may die along the way. But if you don’t, I will definitely die in search of it,” I say. She is quiet. Her face looks grave, but I can see some of the color has come back. I think she’s going to be okay. She lifts her head and turns toward the seahorse. Without words, she has said something to him. He swims through curtains of kelp, and points his nose toward the south. He’s going to lead me. Cara’s voice is so soft now I can barely hear her.

  “You’re going to find him, Merryn. I can see it.”

  I feel a lump in my throat as I wave good-bye to her through the kelp.

  Swimming back to my sub, I climb through the hatch and turn toward the south. The seahorse leads us out of the Seagarden and over the rolling sandy dunes of the seabed. He stops above a wide rocky fissure in the ground. The fissure leads down into absolute darkness.

  “Thank you,” I say to the seahorse. “I know Cara will be safe with you at her side.” He bows his head to me and swims back the way we came.

  I turn to Swish. He waves his tail back and forth excitedly, ready for more adventure.

  “I’m sorry, Swish,” I say. “I have to do this part alone.” He follows alongside me as I sail toward the fissure. I turn back and force myself to use a harsher tone. “Stay! Stay here, Swish. It’s too dangerous in there.” He makes a whimpering sound and looks at me with big doleful eyes. “No,” I tell him firmly. He whimpers again.

  I’m trying to make my voice strong and commanding, but it’s taking everything I have to keep from crying. Swish has been my source of comfort and companionship down here, and it pains me to have to say good-bye. I know he just wants to help me, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to him in there.

  I flip the sub, open the hatch, and swim out, giving him one last hug.

  “Once I find my father, I’ll come back and we’ll play tag all day long,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t notice that my voice is trembling. “I promise.”

  I climb back into the sub. The last things I see are Swish’s big yellow eyes watching me pleadingly as I descend into the darkness.

  12

  THE IMPASSABLE LANDS

  The fissure extends downward, hundreds of feet below the seafloor. The gap between the wide smooth rock walls grows even wider, and at last I see a glow below me. I navigate down below the fissure and into a long cavern where the floor bubbles with orange molten rock.

  The cavern stretches on endlessly. Plumes of boiling liquid rock erupt like fountains from the floor, lighting up the rocky walls. These are the magma storms, the first of the impassable lands. I remember the name from one of my father’s songs. We used to pretend that the floor of my bedroom was covered in hot magma, and I would leap from pillow to pillow to make it to safety. I’d close my eyes and imagine the lavafalls pouring down all around me. It seemed like such a fantastical and beautiful place. But now, as I stare out at the fiery gauntlet ahead of me, I feel nothing but dread.

  I imagine my father, somewhere on the other side of the impassable lands.

  For a moment I see him. His hat is gone, his eyes are wide, and his dark hair waves in the water. Something is pulling him down, deeper and deeper. His arms are reaching out. He’s grasping

  for something . . . it looks like a glowing yellow balloon . . . and then the vision is gone.

  At first I think that my mind is just playing tricks on me, envisioning my greatest fears. But somehow I know my father still needs my help.

  I sail forward into the cavern. Searing jets of magma shoot up in front of me, spreading out into sprays of molten red globules that rain down from the ceiling. I dodge to the left, then down, then back to the right, to avoid the glowing balls of magma that billow up all around me. Speeding forward, I narrowly avoid a hail of burning rock as a chunk of ceiling breaks apart and splashes into the river of fire below.

  Streams of burning rock pour down from above me like bright orange waterfalls, boiling the water all around them. The walls of my sub are burning hot. Scalding sprays of water shoot through the seams in the sub’s exterior, stinging my arms and face. My hands are blistering. The handlebars feel like they’ve been inside an oven. Sweat is pouring down from my hair and into my eyes so I can barely see. My sub is starting to tear apart at the seams.

  I dive down toward the floor as a great fountain of lava arcs across the entire cavern. There’s a tiny gap between the boiling floor and the falling sheet of molten rock; I race the sub toward it. I feel a blast of searing heat as I shoot through the gap. The lava crashes down like an avalanche behind me.

  My submarine is knocked sideways by the blast of boiling water. The world is a blur of raining fire as I spin around out of control. When I finally stop spinning, I am facing backward, looking out at the raging fiery storm. Below me, the floor is dark solid rock. The scalding sprays of water have stopped.

  I’m on the other side of the magma storms.

  The cavern widens and slopes downward. There is no light except for the yellow beam from the front of my sub. The cavern’s silence and stillness is unsettling—I know there must be danger nearby, but I have no idea what it is.

  The ground ahead of me is jagged and white, a stark contrast to the dark rock of the cave
rn walls. I move forward cautiously, and then stare in horror as I realize what I am seeing.

  The floor is a giant pit of bones. Enormous bleached-white bones, bigger than any I have ever seen. They look like the skeletons of legendary serpents, some more than a hundred feet long. These are the bones of leviathans.

  I stop pedaling and look out across the vast empty cavern. There is no hint of movement.

  I shudder to think of what could have killed this many leviathans. And is it still lurking silently in the darkness ahead of me?

  My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. The vault of bones stretches out in front of me like barren white desert, daring me to cross it. I feel a strange pang of sorrow as I think of the great majestic creatures that died here. What brought them all to this one place? My father once told me that the leviathan breeding grounds lay beyond the magma storms—they could make it through the bursts of lava because their armored scales are impervious to heat. Are these the remains of entire generations of leviathans? I think back to Swish’s eyes as I left him behind, all alone in the sea. Is he the last of his kind, just like the merrow?

  I’m about to push forward when something catches my eye. There is a faint white beam of light cutting diagonally through the water right in front of me. It’s barely wider than a blade of grass and so faint that it is nearly impossible to see. It’s only because my eyes have had time to adjust that I can see it at all.

  At first I want to sail toward it to get a better look, but the eerie silence of the cavern has made me wary. After flipping the sub over, I pop out of the hatch and swim upward alongside the hair-like beam of light, careful not to touch it. As I reach the rough rocky wall of the cavern, I can see that the light is coming through a tiny slit in the rock. Carefully swimming along the wall, I discover more beams. The wall is covered in dozens of holes, and the whole cavern is filled with these nearly invisible crisscrossing beams of light.

  Above me, mounted into the ceiling, is a row of three mechanical turrets, their heavy golden barrels slowly swiveling back and forth as if tacking invisible targets on the water below. The Fomori must have put them here to ensure that the leviathans never returned. But if they are powerful enough to kill a leviathan, I’ll stand no chance against them at all.

  My submarine is too big to fit through the web of light beams, but I wonder if it is fast enough to outrun the turret shots. I pry a loose rock from the wall and throw it as far as I can into the cavern. I watch as it arcs through the water, intersecting one of the tiny beams. Faster than I can snap my fingers, all three turrets whip their cannons toward the rock and fire a volley of white-hot balls of light in the direction of the rock. The projectiles streak across the cavern and slam into the wall with a thunderous impact that leaves my ears ringing. A gaping two-foot-deep crater marks the point of impact.

  No, I don’t think I can outrun them. But I have another idea.

  I swim up toward the ceiling, carefully weaving between the threads of light, toward the first of the turrets. It has the signature golden clockwork design of the Fomori. The shiny turret barrel rotates inside a sturdy trapezoid-shaped gold frame filled with intricately ticking gears and sliding levers. I look over each moving part, carefully examining how each gear, axle, and lever are connected. It’s a truly impressive piece of machinery, but it has one glaring weakness. There are two large powerful gears connected by a single small one. The small one is attached to an axle with a tiny screw.

  With the tip of my coral knife, I loosen the screw and pull out the tiny gear. The two large gears slide together, grinding against each other as they try to pull in opposite directions. There is a loud groan of twisting metal as the axles bend and the gears tear through though the turret’s housing. With a loud clang, the whole turret flies apart, sending the gears, levers, and turret barrel tumbling toward the bed of bones below.

  I move on to the next two turrets, carefully dismantling them. I search the whole ceiling of the cavern to make sure I haven’t missed any, then pry another rock from the wall. I throw the rock deep into the center of the cavern and watch it fall quietly down until it disappears behind the ribs of a leviathan skeleton.

  Now that I’ve cleared the path of danger, I climb back into the sub and sail forward through the cavern.

  That was two impassable lands, I think, as the last of the bones disappear beneath me.

  The cavern continues on, wide and straight, with no apparent danger in sight. I pass by dark mouths of caves that lead into winding tunnels. I imagine each tunnel enters a different undiscovered world. In different circumstances, I’d be tempted to follow one, just for a little bit, to see how far it goes.

  A long and piercing howl emanates from a cave ahead of me and echoes through the walls of the cavern. A giant eel emerges from that direction, swims across the cavern, and disappears into a tunnel on the other side. It seemed to pay no attention to me at all. Somehow this unsettles me more than if the eel had attacked. It’s terrifying to think that some unspeakable danger is lurking nearby, and I have no idea what it is.

  Just as I am beginning to wonder if the final impassable land was just a myth, I sail out of the cavern and find myself in endless open water. There is no ceiling and no floor. Vertical rock walls enclose the seemingly bottomless span, forming a giant pillar of water. Peering down into the darkness, I feel like the jaws of a giant beast are rising up to swallow me.

  Jutting out from cylindrical walls are golden metal struts. They form a connected lattice like the framework of a bridge. Based on their size and the number of struts, they must be supporting something truly massive. Is the Forbidden City right above me?

  As I sail upward through the lattice of golden struts, my feelings of anticipation and excitement vanish in an instant. The white beams of Fomori sentinels sweep through the water above me. Hiding out of sight, I count the beams. When I get to thirteen I stop counting. I’d be lucky to make it past a single sentinel. Getting past more than thirteen will take much more than luck.

  One of the sentinels dives down toward me, its beam sweeping through the water. It’s too dangerous to wait here. I sail back down to the cavern to think.

  And then I see a brief glimpse of something orange disappearing into the mouth of a cave below me. I sail closer, out of curiosity, but there’s only a pile of metal scraps and assorted junk, tied up with rope. Among the junk are a cracked clay vase, a tattered sailor’s hat, and the broken claw of a Fomori sentinel. I pause for a moment, wondering who would have bothered collecting miscellaneous junk from the sea and why they would leave it down here. Then I look closer at the hat. It looks just like mine, except the anchor is tilted sideways so that it looks like an E. E for Eirnin. It’s my father’s hat.

  I flip the sub and swim out the hatch to grab the hat, but the whole bundle of scraps suddenly lurches away from me. An orange claw snaps in front of my face, nearly pinching my nose. In front of me is the biggest hermit crab I have ever seen. His body is the size of a large dog and his claws look powerful enough to snap me in half. Shiny black eyes poke out on long orange eyestalks from beneath the pile of scraps he carries on his back. He snaps his claws at me two more times, warning me to back off from his collection of treasures.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him sincerely. “I didn’t see you. So you collect treasures too?” He snaps his claw at my hand, trying to keep me away. I look at my father’s hat, tied up among the rusted gears and odd-looking metal scraps. It makes me happy to know that he made it here. I hold out hope that he’s in the Forbidden City already.

  The crab is watching me intently, sidling back and forth in the mouth of the tunnel. He must think he looks scary, but to me he’s kind of cute. I look up at his bundle of scraps, wondering where he managed to find all those things. An idea pops into my head—a way to get past the sentinels.

  “Would you be willing to make a trade?” I ask the hermit crab, pulling one of the gold coins out of my pocket and holding it up. His eyes fixate on it immediately. “It’s
pretty, isn’t it? Much prettier than all those old rusty scraps, right?” He slowly reaches out his claw toward the coin, but I pull it back. “No, no, no, I said trade. You have to give me something in return.”

  The crab lowers the bundle and scuttles two steps back, offering to let me pick whatever I want. I set the coin down in front of him and he eyes it greedily, tapping it with his claw as if he wants to make sure it’s real.

  “I just need a few things, if that’s okay,” I tell him. I pick up the broken sentinel claw, a couple of gears, and a few odd but potentially useful scraps of metal. “Will you trade the coin for these?” I ask. “You can keep my father’s hat. I think he would understand, and he’d be grateful that you helped me.”

  The crab looks at the items I have selected, then back at the shiny coin, then finally at me. He picks up the coin and quickly backs away from me, afraid I might change my mind and snatch it back.

  “It’s all yours,” I assure him. I swim back to the sub, holding my newly bartered treasures tightly in one arm. “Thank you for your help!” I call to the crab as I duck inside the hatch.

  Inside the sub, I pick up my tools and set to work. I have a plan. It’s risky and dangerous and maybe even downright crazy, but it’s a plan.

  13

  THE FORBIDDEN CITY

  Working as fast as I can, I hammer each piece of scrap metal into shape. None of them is a perfect fit for what I need, but with a little bending, twisting, and hammering I can get them close enough. I roll a thin piece of metal into a makeshift gear axle and bend another to be a hand lever. I hammer a sharp rock against the sub’s roof to make tiny holes for the bolts, and a thin slit for the lever arm. I quickly slide each piece into place to stop the spray of water pouring inside.