Billy became aware of something: a shape that was approaching him rapidly through the dim ocean. In another moment, Billy saw what it was, and his heart shrank within him. It was a shark. A gray torpedo of muscled flesh that was cruising right at him. Under normal circumstances, this might have seemed unlucky, but Billy knew it was more than that. The sharks had an affinity for the Darksiders, as did killer whales, octopods, and several other varieties of unpleasant underwater creatures.
The shark was upon him in an instant, and Billy was dismayed to see how fast it was, and how very large it grew as it closed in on him. The thing had snapping jaws full of serrated, triangular teeth, and its black eyes reminded Billy of the dead gaze of Eva Black, the leader of the Darksiders. He sensed her nearby, if not physically then in spirit. What was happening to the world’s waters smacked of a Darksider plot. Who else would want to wage destruction on this scale? Only the Darksiders.
The shark was only a few feet away, when Billy heard an angry hissing sound. It was the Dagger of Flame he still held. The water around the weapon was boiling furiously, and the dagger itself was glowing a deep, vengeful red.
The shark drew up short, almost turning on its tail as it reversed direction and swam away as quickly as it had come. It was gone from Billy’s view in a matter of moments.
Billy looked around. He could see the cliff face behind him, continuing downward for what seemed like forever.
“Blue!” he shouted. The sound of his voice underwater surprised him, though he had heard it before. It was rendered more musical, lyrical, as though he had a secret song that wanted to burst forth from within him at any moment.
A small school of silvery fish darted out of the shadows below him. At first Billy thought they might be envoys from Blue, but the fish seemed to carry no message from the strange and otherworldly mermaid. They swam around him like a cloud of giant gnats, then darted off and were once again lost to the deep.
Billy had no idea what else to do, so he started to swim. That was another thing that Blue had somehow changed about him: a single kick of his feet drove him twenty feet forward in an instant. He could swim with the fastest sea creature. Nor did he tire when he swam. Indeed, the flowing current that passed by him seemed to rejuvenate and invigorate him. He soon felt as though he had awakened from a good night’s sleep, refreshed and ready for anything.
That led him to thoughts of what lay ahead, though, and his momentary light-heartedness sank to the depths of misery again. He was going to brace a creature so strong that she could battle the Darksiders and Dawnwalkers to a standstill with a wave of her hand. And he was about to do it in her home territory.
If he could find her, that was. He felt like he had been swimming for hours, now, and still had seen nothing to indicate that Blue was even aware of him.
He changed direction, swimming downward. The light that had accompanied him into the sea faltered, then failed. Soon he was swimming in complete and utter darkness. He was able to continue swimming downward, though, guided by an internal sense of direction that he had not known he possessed. This, too, he suspected, was a gift from the mermaid.
A light flashed nearby. It wasn’t much, barely a pinprick in the darkness that surrounded Billy, but it stopped him up short. The flash was joined by another. And a third. Within a few moments Billy found himself in a sea of winking stars, like an underwater galaxy. One of the flashing lights traveled near to him, moving in his direction as though pulled by Billy’s gravity, and as it glimmered in the dim he saw that it was a tiny fish, its belly flashing white, then green, then red, then white again.
The display of light all around him was hypnotic; entrancing. Billy stopped swimming in spite of himself, the urgency of his mission lost in the beauty of the moment. He floated motionless for a time, then started to slowly rock back and forth. It felt as though the flashes were as much audible as visible. It almost seemed like they were playing a music that only he could hear. He smiled as the glittering fish swam closer to him.
Then they scattered suddenly. And Billy was aware that he was not alone. Though it was dark, he felt as though he was in the presence of something strong. Strong, and strangely familiar.
A sound came gently to his ears. It was lovely, seeming to dance from note to note, moving up and down a scale that was not human in nature, but could only be found in the depths of the sea. The sound penetrated his soul, and Billy opened his mouth and sang back. He didn’t know what he was saying, but knew only that he could not remain silent in the presence of such beauty.
A moment later, the water brightened again. This time, however, the light came not from thousands of tiny fish, but rather from the shining bodies of three huge ones. They were alien in appearance, each about the size of a pony, and bristling with strange, spear-like appendages. Billy suspected that he was the first human to ever see such marine life.
More interesting to him than the bright fish, however, was what came with them. It was a huge form, so big that when its head hove into view, its tail remained unseen in the darkness behind it.
“Artemaeus?” Billy asked hesitantly, his voice still carrying that sing-song lilt.
The blue whale looked like the one that had rescued Billy, though he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t remember Artemaeus having the huge, zig-zagging scar that stretched across the whale’s head and disappeared down his back.
The whale slowed, and turned one vast eye to look at Billy.
Billy, still unsure if this was, indeed, his old rescuer, slowly bowed his head.
A moment later, the whale returned the gesture, his head dipping low before he straightened up and resumed staring at Billy.
“It is you!” Billy shouted joyfully. He felt like hugging the huge sea creature, though at the same time he was aware that this would not be proper. Blue had referred to Artemaeus as “the Oldest of the Old Ones.” And though Billy was not entirely sure what that meant, he knew it was something to be respected. Besides, even if it had been proper to do so, he had no idea how one would go about hugging a whale.
So he settled for smiling widely at the sight of the graceful animal. The smile faded away as quickly as it came, however, replaced by a look of concern. “Artemaeus, what’s Blue doing?” Billy said. “Is she behind the waves?”
The whale hesitated, then nodded his head slightly. The three bright fish that hovered nearby him remained still, seeming like some kind of honor guard to the great leviathan.
“What’s she trying to do?” demanded Billy. Artemaeus just continued staring at him. Billy didn’t know what he had expected. He didn’t think Artemaeus spoke English, and he was certain that he didn’t speak whale. He shook his head in frustration. Just as he could feel the currents with preternatural clarity, just as he was aware of up and down even when swimming through the blackest depths of the ocean, so he was also aware that the seas were gathering themselves. Readying themselves. And Billy didn’t know what they were readying for, but he feared that it was the destruction of the lands above the water.
“Can you take me to her?” he asked the whale.
For a long time, Artemaeus did not move. Precious seconds ticked by, and then minutes. Billy waited, his heart pounding. As his heartbeat quickened, he felt a cold pressure within him, like someone had laid a fifty pound ice block across his chest. He still wasn’t breathing, still didn’t need to, but suddenly felt like gasping.
The DeathBlade, he thought. He pulled up his shirt with the hand that was not holding the Dagger of Flame, and was dismayed to see that the wound was still there, bloodless and strange in the middle of his chest. Worse, though were the vivid blue tracks that ran across his chest, originating at the edges of the DeathBlade’s mark and zigzagging across his skin like rivers on a map.
He hurriedly pulled his shirt back into place, then looked at Artemaeus. The whale was still looking at him, though Billy thought his expression was different somehow. Like the whale was… what? Sad? Mournful?
The whale slowly turn
ed, followed by his entourage of brightly glowing fish. He swam a few feet away from Billy, then slowly turned to look back at him. He waited.
“Follow you?” guessed the boy.
The whale nodded again, then resumed his swim.
Billy hurriedly kicked his feet to follow the gentle giant of the deep. He was able to keep up, but only barely, and had to exert himself to the utmost to remain even with the swiftly moving Artemaeus. He didn’t think that the whale was trying to swim particularly fast, but the two hundred foot long animal surged forward enormously quickly with every beat of his massive tail.
Artemaeus led him through the depths of the sea, moving steadily in one direction, but angling down at the same time. Other than the shining creatures accompanying Artemaeus, Billy saw no other fish as they swam. He thought that was strange. The last time he had traveled with Artemaeus, the two had been accompanied by a pod of whales. And during the rest of his time in Blue’s realm he had marveled at the quantity and diversity of life under the waves.
Now, though… nothing. Not another fish, not another whale. No plants, no animals, not even the tiniest sea slug or eel to mar the endless field of dark blue that they swam through. It didn’t feel right, somehow. He was still underwater, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel as though he were traveling through a desert in the dead of night.
Then he realized that the water was brightening. At first he couldn’t see the source of the illumination, but then saw what looked like a vast blanket of glowing clouds that hung below them. Billy recognized it at once: it was a thick layer of glowing jellyfish that provided light to Blue’s realm under the waves.
Artemaeus’ honor guard sheared away, and Billy got the distinct impression that they were fleeing from danger.
Artemaeus drew close to the barrier, then stopped swimming. Billy didn’t blame the great whale. The jellies were each at least six feet in diameter, with some looking to be ten or even twenty feet across. And though beautiful, flashing brightly revealing in their display every possible color in the spectrum of visible light, he knew instinctively that they were more than just a source of illumination. They were also guardians. The first layer of defense for Blue’s domain. He could see through their fluttering bodies, and could make out the hundreds of feet of tentacles that dangled below each one of them. The tentacles glittered in the light the jellyfish created, and he could see even at this distance that they were covered in sharp spines. To attempt to go through the jellyfish would be tantamount to committing very painful suicide.
Artemaeus made a sound. Though still whalesong, the sound was as close to guttural as he had ever heard come from the animal’s throat. It was a sound that carried with it an edge of command.
There was no effect on the jellyfish, however. They continued to float, implacable and beautiful as the reflective eyes of a cat in the night.
Artemaeus issued one more sound, and this one sounded to Billy’s ears like a warning.
Still the jellies did not give way.
Artemaeus spun on a tight axis, and flicked his tail through the center of the thickest congregation of jellyfish. Immediately the creatures reacted, whipping their tentacles around Artemaeus in sticky masses. Artemaeus screamed in rage and pain, and thrashed against the clinging creatures. The whale pounded his tail back and forth, churning the water around them. Billy heard a sizzling, and saw the skin on Artemaeus’ tail blacken and char where the jellyfish clung. He shivered. Their touch would have been instantly fatal to him, he suspected.
Artemaeus didn’t show signs of dying, but he did continue to scream that strange song of rage and pain. And Billy could see that whatever he was doing, it wasn’t accomplishing anything: for every one jellyfish that Artemaeus managed to rip asunder with his tail, two more took its place.
Then a new sound lilted through the sea. Billy looked, and saw a gray-colored whale swim out of the darkness and join Artemaeus. Soon that whale was joined by another one, and a third. Then a fourth, and a fifth. And all of them turned and began to bat at the masses of jellyfish with their tails. The water around them fairly boiled with fury, and the hissing of burnt flesh grew so loud that Billy had a hard time resisting the urge to cover his ears with his hands.
One of the whales – a smaller one with white splashes that ran up and down its body – slowed down suddenly. Billy could see that its tail was tangled with jellyfish tentacles. It was burnt severely, and Billy thought he could even see bone peeking out through the charred flesh of the poor beast’s body. The whale writhed in the water, then convulsed, and was still. Its great eyes closed, and a bubble of air escaped from its blowhole.
The jellyfish drew the unmoving giant toward them, and soon it disappeared in their bright mass.
Billy gaped. What was going on? What insanity had gripped this place? The last time he had been here, Artemaeus had been an honored guest and friend of Blue. Now, it was apparently forbidden for the blue whale to enter her domain. And why were the other whales willing to die to help Artemaeus break through the barrier of jellyfish?
As though to confirm their dedication, two more of the whales twitched and faltered. But this time they were not drawn into the mass of jellyfish. Billy could see why almost instantly: though it had cost the lives of several of the whales, their thrashing attacks had not been in vain: the jellyfish were considerably thinned out in this area of the living curtain that marked the limits of Blue’s underwater kingdom.
It was down to Artemaeus and one other whale now. Billy couldn’t tell who was going to win: the whales, or the silent and deadly jellyfish. The great mammals thrashed and bucked, and the water roiled around them. The only sound was the whales’ flesh as it burned.
Then, abruptly, there was an opening! Artemaeus practically bent in half as he turned a tight circle, and plunged through the open ring of jellyfish. The other whale didn’t follow, but spun to look at Billy, then looked at the hole.
Billy understood: the whale wanted him to follow Artemaeus. Billy did so without thinking, pumping his legs powerfully. He paddled for all he was worth, shooting forward like a missile. But the ring of jellyfish was closing almost as fast, their tentacles reaching out to enfold him.
Billy swam between the grasping tentacles, trying not to touch any of them, remembering what they had done to the whales. He felt a devastating pain on his arm, and realized that he had been stung! A jellyfish tentacle, a thin filament no thicker than a human hair, had brushed him ever-so-slightly. Yet even that light touch was almost enough to paralyze Billy in place.
He couldn’t stop, though. To stop would mean certain death. Billy ground his teeth. He clenched the Dagger of Flame in his hand, and pointed it in front of him. The tentacles around him all withdrew for a moment, as though afraid of the weapon, then they pressed close again.
Billy grimaced as another tentacle touched his back. His leg. He felt himself drawing up into a ball from the pain. But still he managed to kick his feet. Still he managed to swing the dagger around him in dizzying patterns that seemed to hold the jellies back, if only slightly.
And then he was through! He was past the jellyfish, and beyond the reach of their stinging tentacles! Of course, he had no idea how he was going to get back through them once it was time to leave, but he figured that was a bridge he could cross when he came to it.
If I do come to it.
He pushed the negative thought out of his mind. Artemaeus was waiting at the edge of the deadly curtain of jellyfish, looking wistfully at Billy. Billy could only guess why Artemaeus had such a sad expression: the whales that had sacrificed themselves so that Billy and the great blue whale could pass through the defenses to Blue’s domain. They must have been Artemaeus’ friends. Billy, in spite of his aches and pains, felt strength and resolve flow into him. He was determined not to let Artemaeus down. He would find out what was going on here, and find a way to fix it.
Artemaeus began to swim, and Billy followed. They traveled rapidly, coming quickly to a place Billy recog
nized. It was a mountain of coral, a tower of living animals that had joined together to create a home. What seemed like millions of fish danced in and out of the coralline structure, a moving display of light and life that was breathtaking to behold. Or at least, it would have been breathtaking if Billy had been breathing.
The flurrying fish that swam around the great coral reef all slowed suddenly. Where before they seemed to be playing the world’s largest game of hide and seek, now they wheeled as one to look at Billy. Or perhaps they were looking at Artemaeus. Either way, Billy got the distinct impression that they were angry.
Then, moving as one, the fish swam toward Billy. They were all sizes and shapes, some so tiny he could barely see them, others the size of charging bulls. None were as large as Artemaeus, but Billy could tell that the sheer mass of the rapidly approaching fish could crush them instantly.
Billy became aware that Artemaeus was tensing, and knew that another battle was imminent. But this one, he feared, would not end well for him and his friend. Artemaeus opened his great mouth, and bellowed a battle cry in whalesong. Billy shouted, too, feeling almost as though he had been captured by the lilting music that issued from the whale’s mouth. He held the Dagger of Flame aloft, and felt it thrum with power.
Dazzling light suddenly shattered forth from the blade. The water around it roiled and boiled, and a spear of flame seemed to shoot out of the dagger’s tip. It was so bright it blinded Billy, and when his eyes returned to normal he saw hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of dead and dying fish around him.
The rest of the attackers did not pause, though, merely continuing to swim. And Billy knew that there were too many of them for anything – even the Dagger of Flame – to stop.
Artemaeus looked at him, and Billy had the distinct impression that the whale was saying something.
Billy: Seeker of Powers (The Billy Saga) Page 9
