by Raymond Cain
It wasn’t until I graduated from the Citadel that my grandfather told me about the Seablades. Only the Gifted were allowed to join and the organization had the most powerful warriors and wizards in the city. They defended Seahaven against invaders, cleared out monsters from the underground tunnels, created the Safe Zone, and explored the farthest reaches of the ocean. At first, they were the most admired and respected people in Seahaven.
Of all their accomplishments, their most impressive feat turned out to be their downfall. They befriended the humans’ most hated enemy, the merfolk. For centuries, our people despised these creatures, but the Seablades discovered the merfolk were not the monsters our people made them out to be. And when they tried to teach the citizens the error of their ways, they became despised nearly as much as the merfolk were.
A revolt broke out and the Seablades were disbanded. For more than a century, Seablades have operated in secret to keep the city safe. When Galyn and I were enlisted to join them, it was one of the proudest moments of my life.
Flynn held his hand over his mouth in astonishment. He finally knew what the fin-and-blades symbol represented. There were dozens of Gifted in Seahaven and he wondered how many of them were secretly Seablades. For all he knew, his own brother might be a member of the organization. It saddened him to know his lack of connection to aquazite would prevent him from ever becoming a member.
The following pages spoke of his parents’ missions. His parents went on journeys that took them far outside the Safe Zone and deep underground. They defeated monsters, found missing artifacts, and rescued people in need. They went on adventures he could only dream of and he felt foolish for believing they were simple miners. He flipped each page with increasing enthusiasm, devouring the stories like a starving man eating his first meal. He read for hours without pause.
Galyn’s journal entries were less elegantly written and the content was more straightforward than Malya’s entries. She often described her feelings in relation to what happened, whereas Galyn discussed mainly the facts. A few of his entries discussed working with merfolk, including one mission involving recovering a merfolk offspring. They found the child, brought it back to a merfolk colony, and earned the friendship of one of the more powerful merfolk communities in the ocean.
Flynn paused after reading the last entry. It explained the merfolk’s reaction when they saw his family insignia.
Later in the journal, Malya mentioned an ancient tomb located a few miles outside of the Safe Zone. It was built into the side of a mountain and it contained carvings depicting a magnificent underground city inhabited by their people many centuries ago. According to Malya, the carvings revealed an evil race of pale-skinned humanoids attacked the city, forcing them to flee. The survivors collapsed the tunnels behind them to prevent pursuit and they built a new city. They called it Seahaven.
It was a shocking story. If his parents’ findings were accurate, the history his people learned in school was very different from what really happened. He wondered if his people concealed the truth because they were ashamed of their true heritage.
Some of the words in the next entry were smudged. They appeared to be written by Malya’s hand but her handwriting was messy and difficult to read. Flynn soon realized why; she was crying when she wrote it.
I fear that Galyn is gone. He left days ago to investigate an Azuran vessel lurking outside the Safe Zone and I haven’t seen him since. His ship was found near the Giant’s Fingers with merfolk tridents in it, but I know it was just a ruse. Galyn was beloved by merfolk. Whoever killed him placed tridents there to turn suspicion away from themselves.
Malya’s words hit Flynn like a seaquake. Any hope he had that he might still find his dad alive was crushed. He shoved the book away, slammed his fists on the table, and glared at the inkskin-bound tome. Before long, his anger turned to fear. He was scared to learn what happened to his father and feared what other devastating news still awaited him in the remaining pages. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared at the journal, but he gathered the nerve to read on.
When Galyn and I first found those two compasses in the tomb, I was astonished when his compass pointed at me and mine pointed at him. After he disappeared, I was out every day trying to find him. I hoped the compass would lead me to him but it never did. But every once in a while, it led me to a seemingly random person that lay dead or dying. Every time it was something different: shark attacks, bites from poisonous eels, buried under a landslide...every death appeared to be random acts of misfortune and yet, the compass led me straight to them. Somehow, it seems to know which people are about to die. The compass pointed at me too—does that mean I will die as well? I can’t bear the thought of my boys having nobody to look after them.
Flynn was surprised to learn there were two compasses. And the entry confirmed a suspicion he had before—the compass points at people in mortal danger. He flipped the page and found a single line written on it.
I’m going to look for Galyn again tonight. Perhaps the tomb where we found the compasses will yield a clue.
Tears welled up again and Flynn’s nose was running, but he wiped them away with his sleeve. The remaining pages were blank. If only he knew the location of the tomb, he might learn more about what happened to his mother and father. Instead, all he knew was where his mother went the day she died.
Flynn cupped his chin in his palm and mulled over the part about his father’s disappearance. He wondered if the Azuran that attacked him was the one who’d attacked his father as well. He cringed when he realized he may have had an opportunity to exact revenge on his father’s murderer and he let the pirate go instead. The image of the Azuran standing there helpless as Flynn held a dagger to his throat troubled him, but he pushed the disturbing thought away. After all the time his father spent outside the Safe Zone, anything could have happened to Galyn. There was little reason to blame his death on the Azuran.
Unsure of how to proceed, Flynn tucked the journal into a pocket under his tunic and continued searching the armory. At the far wall opposite the door, he found a six-foot-wide crystal disc set into the floor. Through the aquazite, he saw a deep shaft below. Steel braces held the disc in place and a crystal lever was set into the wall above it.
The disc appeared to be a lift and the lever was likely the triggering mechanism. The shaft below was dark and there was no telling what lurked down there. Flynn knew he should leave it alone, but he was a slave to his curiosity. He stepped on the disc and pulled the lever.
A bubbling sound rumbled below. The sound grew louder, like a waterfall being forced through a narrow tube. A pillar of water rushed up from below and it was moving so fast he wondered if it would slam the platform into the ceiling. He resisted the urge to jump off the disc before it was struck.
The water hit the disc and lifted it a few inches, enough to release the metal clamps that held it in place. Flynn’s stomach lurched as it dropped down, more than one hundred feet into the darkness. Warm, moist air whipped his hair into a brown, tangled mess and his nausea worsened. He held his hand over his mouth and released a belch that left a foul taste in his mouth. The sickness caused by the Azuran’s gem seemed to be getting worse.
The platform came to a stop on a small pool of water in a tunnel far below the city. The sudden stop brought him to his knees and he fought the urge to vomit. He pushed himself back up and gasped as waves of pain radiated from his chest wound. Once the pain subsided, he studied his surroundings.
Orange, glowing algae on the walls lit up the tunnel. The air was moist and thick with the musky smell of wet earth. Beads of water dotted stalactites that hung from the ceiling and their points loomed downward like teeth covered in drool. Puddles marked the spots where dripping spires of stone hung above them and the constant dripping was reminiscent of a heartbeat. It felt like the area was alive.
Remembering the enchantment that Tasker built into his family ring, Flynn whispered the word aurora into it. It responded by shining as brig
ht as a school of lanternfish. The stalactites and stalagmites cast shadows that obscured most of the area but he made out enough of his surroundings to know he was at an intersection of three passageways, each one roughly twenty-feet wide and twelve feet tall.
“Nice place,” Flynn whispered, and his words echoed off the walls and returned to him as though the stone itself was whispering back.
A glowing aquazite orb was set in the wall next to the disc and two crossed tridents were carved into the stone above it. As Flynn stepped off the platform to investigate the crystal, the earth rumbled and a pillar of water slammed into the disc, carrying it upward. The upheaval blew his hair back and sprinkled him with a cool mist. The watery pillar was six-feet wide, the same width as the aquazite platform it carried, and it looked rock solid. It extended all the way up to the armory and the distant click of steel clamps revealed the disc was once again secured. The water dropped back down into the pool and Flynn stepped away to avoid getting splashed.
“Very impressive,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Quick access to the tunnels below the city.”
As Flynn walked up to the crystal orb, his breath was stolen by a growl that echoed off the walls. The growl was deep and loud, as though the creature’s chest was as wide as the tunnel itself. The clickety-clack of claws on stone followed the growl and he could not identify what direction the sound was coming from. His breathing quickened, sweat beaded on his forehead, and goosebumps formed on his arms. The sound of clawed footsteps was replaced by grunting noises as the creature sniffed the air.
Wherever it was, it had his scent.
Desperate to activate the lift and escape, Flynn pressed his ring against the crystal orb. Nothing happened. The sound of claws on stone grew louder and he once again pressed his ring against the aquazite orb. Again, nothing happened. He realized the orb was most likely attuned to an Arcturus family ring, but not the one he was wearing. He cursed himself for not taking either of the rings he found in the armory.
The creature’s heavy breathing seemed to come from every direction. Flynn could tell by the beast’s slow, measured footsteps that it was in no hurry, confident in its ability to capture its prey. He had no idea which tunnel the creature was in but he was certain he had no chance against it out in the open. He picked a random tunnel and ran toward it, hoping mightily he wasn’t running toward the monster.
As soon as Flynn ran, the sound of claws ripping through earth and stone echoed off the walls. The creature rounded a corner and raced toward him. He didn’t risk looking behind him but something on the beast glowed fiery red and tremendous heat emanated from it. He ran as hard as he could but the creature was closing fast.
Chapter Twenty
The uneven stone made running difficult. Flynn relied heavily on the light from his ring but pumping his arms as he ran proved to be disorienting. His heart pounded as the glowing beast charged after him.
A narrow shadow in the wall revealed a crevice wide enough for him to fit into. Whatever was chasing him, it sounded too large to fit inside. For all he knew, the opening might only be a few inches deep but it was his only chance. He dove into the fissure, heedless of unseen rocky protrusions that may have been waiting for him inside.
The beast slammed into the stone wall outside of the fissure an eyeblink after Flynn leapt into it. It was a reptilian creature, six feet tall at the shoulder when it was on all fours, and it sported a long horn on its head that glowed fiery red. The monster weighed thousands of pounds and its scaly head was too large to fit through the crack.
It was a mancor, a creature Flynn learned about during his studies in the Citadel. Until that moment, he had never seen one before. Mancors were known to wipe out entire human patrols and the horn on their heads could reputedly penetrate anything. It had large red eyes, effective for seeing in dark tunnels.
The mancor slammed its head into the edge of the fissure as Flynn shimmied deeper inside. Its horn was inches away and the heat from it was unbearable. He was sweating profusely and the edge of his kempcloth tunic closest to the horn started smoldering. The beast’s warm, moist breath reeked of meat and blood.
The crevice ran deep and Flynn wriggled far enough inside to bring himself out of range of the mancor. Its red eyes flared in frustration and it smashed the edges of the fissure, shattering stone with every hit. Rocky debris showered him but he was confident the creature would give up before it smashed through enough stone to reach him.
The mancor halted its assault on the rock wall and narrowed its red eyes. It pulled its scaly lips back from its teeth and issued a menacing growl. Its horn flared brighter—reflecting its anger—and it paced back and forth in front of the fissure. It seemed to realize that smashing its way to Flynn was more trouble than it was worth.
A distant rumble followed by the sound of rushing water drew the mancor’s attention. The beast turned toward the sound and Flynn knew what caused it; the water rose to pick up the aquazite disc in the armory. Tasker was coming.
Once the disc touched down in the tunnel, a man’s shout echoed off the walls. “Flynn? Are you down here?” There was a nervous tremor in his voice.
Flynn shouted as loud as he could. “TASKER! GO BACK!”
It was too late. The water carried the lift disc away and the sounds of his brother fumbling in the tunnel echoed in the distance.
The mancor ran in the direction of Tasker’s voice, scattering rocky debris as it went.
Without hesitation, Flynn left the safety of the fissure and ran to protect his brother. By the time he took his first running step, the mancor was far ahead of him. He unsheathed his shortswords and ran faster.
Flynn’s puny blades were a poor match against the powerful mancor, but that did not deter him. All he could think about was the danger Tasker was in. Energy born of concern surged through him and every footfall was perfectly placed to avoid stumbling on the uneven ground.
But he was too late to protect his brother. Tasker stood by the lift, his ring glowing bright and his eyes wide with terror as the mancor charged toward him. The monster lowered its head, leveling its horn toward Tasker’s mid-section.
Flynn gasped and ran even harder. Tasker appeared to be paralyzed with fear until he dove out of the mancor’s way. The creature’s momentum sent it rushing past, horn-first into the tunnel wall. The entire horn was buried in the stone and cracks formed in the wall around it.
As the beast struggled to remove its horn from the wall, Flynn leapt onto its back and buried both shortswords into its ribs. Dark blood oozed from the wounds and the creature roared. It yanked out its horn and reared up on its hind legs, throwing him off its back. He landed hard on the ground, next to his brother.
Tasker helped him to his feet and they huddled together between the pool and the wall. The mancor reached back with its head and yanked out the shortswords from its flanks. The beast tossed the weapons and the clatter of steel on stone rang off the walls. Blood poured from the wounds but the animal did not reveal any sign of pain.
The mancor glared at them, its horn flaring in hues of orange and red. It pawed the ground, ready to charge. Flynn tensed, ready to dive out of its way.
“Wait,” Tasker said, putting his hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “Don’t move yet.”
Flynn was baffled. “Wait? For what? For it to kill us?”
His older brother held a hand in front of Flynn’s face, rudely gesturing for him to stop talking. Tasker slipped an aquazite ring over the index finger of his right hand and made a fist. He looked up at the beast and clenched his jaw.
The mancor lowered its head and charged. It seemed to have learned from its last attack because it kept its head just high enough to keep the two of them in its sight. Its horn led the way as it leapt over the pool.
As the mancor flew toward them, Tasker pressed the ring against the aquazite orb in the wall. The column of water shot skyward, slamming into the mancor and driving it upward. The beast smacked into the stone ceiling and fell back down. It
landed on its back and was slow to get up.
Flynn’s relief at seeing the brute get thrown was short-lived. As the water brought the disc down, the mancor slowly rose to its feet. He and his brother stepped onto the platform as the monster shook its head and charged again. The wounded creature moved slower than before and when it jumped for them, it fell short.
The mancor plunged into the watery column but it did not get thrown off. It remained inside the water and, remarkably, swam up toward them. Flynn watched through the lift disc with wide-eyed amazement as the creature paddled toward them with its four clawed feet.
“Determined, isn’t it?” Tasker said in a bored tone, as though commenting on some idle curiosity.
They reached the armory and Flynn sighed in relief when the clamps secured the disc in place. By that time, the mancor reached the underside of the disc and clawed at it. The monster’s eyes widened in fear as the water dropped back down, taking the creature down with it.
Flynn felt sorry for the creature as it flailed on the way down into the dark tunnel below. The creature made a loud splash as it struck the pool and he wondered if it survived.
“Thanks for coming to rescue me,” Flynn said.
Tasker looked at him with an expression of uncertainty, then turned away to avoid eye contact. After a few awkward moments, he finally broke the silence. “We’re not going to hug are we?”
Flynn laughed.
Tasker studied the contents of the room like a scientist studying a strange, new species. He looked with fascination at each weapon and suit of armor. The interest he showed in the items suggested he hadn’t taken the time to observe them the first time he entered the armory.
Flynn was about to remove the journal from inside his tunic and hand it to his brother until something occurred to him. It seemed odd that Tasker went straight to the lift to track him down instead of investigating the curiosities in the room first.
