by EJ Altbacker
“There’s been an attack against King Lochlan!”
Mari gasped. “Is he okay?”
“He has to be,” Barkley said grimly.
Gray thought it was odd, the way his friend put that.
Jaunt nodded, but looked upset. “You should come with me.”
She led them to one of the areas where Riptide mariners slept when they weren’t on patrol. Gray’s heart leapt when he saw the golden great white. He was alive! “Lochlan!” he yelled as relief washed over him.
But when the AuzyAuzy king turned, Gray could see he was injured. A ragged bite had been taken from his side. The doctor and surgeonfish were tending the wound, nibbling the edges that were now sutured together with urchin spines by the nimble claws of skillful crabs. AuzyAuzy Shiver was an ancient shiver, and its injury care was second to none. But this wound was deep.
The sight of Lochlan’s injuries made Mari whisper a shaky, “Oh no …”
“These scratches? No worries.” Lochlan shook his broad head dismissively. “It’s nothing. But we lost two of my guards, and also—”
Barkley was aghast. “I know you’re tough, but you’ve lost part of your flank.”
“A sliver. I can swim fine. But I have to tell you three something—”
“Does anyone know if Coral Shiver was attacked? Are they safe?” Gray asked over Lochlan, who was distracted by another surgeonfish who came out of Goblin’s old resting cave. This particular dweller Gray recognized as Oceania. She looked at Lochlan and shook her head sadly. Her reaction seemed to deflate both Lochlan and Jaunt.
“Your family is fine,” Jaunt told Gray. “Let Loch finish.”
Gray didn’t listen. “I can’t believe this happened in the middle of our homewaters!” he yelled, a bit louder than he wanted. “How can we defend against Finnivus if we can’t even keep you safe?”
“Do you think you can still lead?” Barkley asked Lochlan.
“Stop asking dumb questions, Barkley!” shouted Mari.
“Quiet, everyone! Please, let me speak!” Lochlan ordered. Gray, Barkley, and Mari stopped talking. “I would be swimming the Sparkle Blue for sure—”
Gray knew he shouldn’t be speaking—that Lochlan had something important to tell him—but he had a bad feeling and didn’t want to hear it. He interrupted again, “But thankfully you’re not and—”
Lochlan bumped Gray hard, repeating himself more forcefully. “I would be swimming the Sparkle Blue for sure … if it weren’t for your friend … Shell.”
“Fought like a prehistore monster, that one. A finner of the highest order,” Jaunt said in a cheerless whisper.
Gray shook his head from side to side, preventing the thought from settling in his mind. This couldn’t be. This could not be!
“What are you saying, Lochlan?” Mari asked. But she already knew.
So did Barkley. “We’ve got to hear the words,” the dogfish told him.
“Your friend Shell died saving me.”
It was agreed that no good would come from letting the rest of Riptide United see Shell’s body even though he was a hero. It was ripped and torn beyond belief, a grim reminder of what Finnivus wanted to do to everyone.
“Hard to believe he could keep fighting,” Lochlan said in wonder as Mari cried silently nearby. Gray viewed the body of his friend with deep shock, but for some reason, tears did not come. He didn’t feel anything, and that made him feel like a monster.
“They attacked without a whisper of warning,” said Jaunt. Since Xander and Kendra, two other members of Lochlan’s Line, weren’t here—they were back in the Sific Ocean guarding the AuzyAuzy territory—Jaunt was in charge of Loch’s personal safety. She was taking the attack badly. “Like a stupid puffer fish, I didn’t see anything coming!”
“None o’ that now,” said Lochlan. He rubbed her flank with his tail. “It wasn’t your fault. They were invisible!”
“If you had seen anything, you would have been killed first,” said Takiza as he floated inside the cove where Shell’s body and the bodies of two more mako killers lay. “What did you mean, they were invisible? They are visible now.”
“But they weren’t,” Jaunt told Takiza. “Honest! It was like they blended in.”
“So did the ones who attacked us,” Gray said. “After they were … dealt with, they changed to a normal mako coloring.”
“It’s true.” Mari nodded in agreement, hovering by Gray. She was trying to be brave, but he could taste her tears in the water.
“This is well and truly troubling,” the betta muttered.
“Trank told us they were assassins,” Barkley said.
Takiza rounded on Barkley. “They are not assassins!”
Everyone’s mouth hung open. They’d never seen the serene betta show this much emotion. Takiza checked his anger and addressed the wide-eyed Barkley. “These are fin’jaa. The personal guard of the Seazarein. But she would never allow them to be used this way.”
“Finja?” Barkley asked, using the more common pronunciation. “They’re … myths.”
Finja were ghost stories that mothers used to scare their pups when they misbehaved, very ancient ghost stories from prehistore times. “But everyone thought Takiza was a myth, too,” Gray said.
“Okay, finja I can understand,” Barkley gave in. “But the Seazarein? That position went away with the pre-histores.”
Lochlan raised an eyebrow. “That’s real, too?”
Takiza shook his frilly fins. “Do not become Nulo once again. Training you out of that period in your life was trying enough the first time.”
“Father never mentioned anything about a Seazarein, and he was king of an ancient shiver. He would have told me if one was still swimming around, giving orders.”
“The new Seazarein is not like that. She prefers to exercise her will in more invisible ways, unlike in ancient times.”
“More invisible ways? Like assassinations?” asked Lochlan.
“Never!” said Takiza, chopping his fins through the water as if the matter was settled beyond a doubt.
Gray didn’t know what was going on. Although he, Mari, and Barkley were all devastated by the loss of their friend, the dogfish’s curiosity got the best of him.
“Can someone please tell me what a Seazarein is?” Barkley stared sadly at the unmoving body of Shell, only dimly visible in the dark cavern. “And why she maybe killed our friend?”
“She did not!” Takiza insisted. “She would not!”
“Lochlan? Please,” Mari said. “The Seazarein.” Gray motioned for Lochlan to take over while Takiza inspected the makos, muttering to himself.
“Seazarein is just a title, like King or Queen,” Lochlan began. “But kings and queens would pay tribute to the Seazarein in ancient times. They served at his or her pleasure. The Seazarein was said to be the most powerful ruler in all the Big Blue. In charge of doing whatever was necessary to keep peace in all the wet-wet. If you became a tyrant, the Seazarein would send her fin’jaa to give you a warning. If a warning wasn’t enough, well, that was it for you.”
“So she’s kind of like a secret emperor of the ocean?” asked Gray.
“Emperors and Empresses served the Seazarein in ancient times,” Takiza said. “If she found a ruler who was so worthy that they could bring peace, the Seazarein would help them.”
“You think that flipper Finnivus found out there was a Seazarein again?” asked Jaunt. “Tried to use her, maybe?”
It was a really good question.
Everyone, even Lochlan, looked at Takiza for an answer.
“Indi Shiver has always had an exceedingly high opinion of itself. They would most likely consider the concept of Seazarein a myth, as it would diminish their own standing.”
Lochlan looked at Takiza. “Indi is one of the ancient shivers. What if Finnivus not only knew about this new Seazarein but moved against her? What if he took control of the finja?”
The little betta fish didn’t answer for a moment. Then he said, “Pray to Tyro th
at it is not so. But I must be sure!”
As everyone watched, Takiza swam away so swiftly he left a stream of bubbles in his wake.
FINNIVUS WAS STILL RAGING SIX HOURS AFTER he had received word that his assassins were unsuccessful. “I was promised they never failed! I was promised!”
The emperor ripped off another piece of the royal herald who had the bad luck of having to deliver the message. She hadn’t gotten another word out after, “I regret to inform his Magnificence that the fin’jaa have failed.” Boom. That was it.
The armada had not moved a tail stroke since then. That was all right with Velenka. She had no desire to speed toward what was sure to be a bloody battle with Gray and his mariners. And their forces had been making good time. Too good! They were nearly by the southern tip of the African land mass. Soon, they would leave the Indi Ocean entirely and enter the Southern Atlantis.
“Tydal! Why did they fail?” Finnivus asked the cowering court shark. The epaulette had his snout in the sandy bottom of the court below the emperor’s whale and the Speakers Rock embedded in its back. “Tell me why?”
“I would not presume to know, your Magnificence!” he whimpered.
“You are useless, Tydal! Useless!”
Fin’jaa. Velenka hadn’t known such things existed until Finnivus had blurted out his plan this morning at breakfast. “Lochlan and Gray are probably already dead!” he’d crowed. But no matter how delicately Velenka tried to find out where the finja came from, or how Finnivus had found them, she was unsuccessful. Finnivus kept that secret to himself. And now, it seemed, these supposedly deadly assassins had not succeeded in dealing with Gray and Lochlan the way Finnivus had hoped.
Finnivus had gotten his hopes up far too high. Velenka’s former shiver leader, Goblin, shared similar mood swings. But Goblin was a dim-witted fool compared to the emperor, and easily controllable. His moods changed often, but Velenka could shift them with little effort.
That was emphatically not true with Emperor Finnivus Victor Triumphant.
As if to prove her point, Finnivus shouted, “Guards, to me!”
Velenka tensed. The squaline darted into place from both above and below. The armored mariners formed a battle line so that anything threatening the Emperor would have to go through them. From what Velenka had seen, that would be nothing in the Big Blue. She doubted the landsharks above the chop-chop could find fighters more ferocious. The squaline were the best of the best. That was saying something as the Indi armada was the finest, most battle-ready force in the entire world. But even the squaline were not immune to the stormy moods of the emperor.
“No, no, no!” Finnivus yelled. “I didn’t mean I was in danger! I want you to go out and find that—that lying finja and bring it to me immediately! We will wait here!”
The squaline flowed from their defensive positions into two perfectly matched lines. They didn’t get more than five tail strokes before Finnivus shouted, “What are you doing? What if my enemies come? Who will guard me?” The squaline displayed no emotion as they resumed their normal guard patterns, one half swimming above the emperor and the other half hovering slightly below his mobile throne.
The blue whales switched positions, the second coming in underneath Finnivus as the first went for air. The third was away eating. The two here did the exchange so smoothly that the emperor rarely even noticed. But today wasn’t a good day for anyone.
“What are you doing, you dolt!” Finnivus shouted for no reason and finned the blue whale’s soft back, creating a scar. The blue whale didn’t react, which was wise. There were many other scars from previous fits of temper, but whales were tough. Finnivus could spend an entire day biting before he reached something vital in a full-grown blue whale.
“Tydal, I’m hungry!” Finnivus wailed. “Bring me my supper!”
“Immediately, Magnificence!” The epaulette was gone in a flash. He was eager to be away from his place in court, and Velenka couldn’t blame him. The emperor’s temper was like a twisting current. You never knew which way the waters would churn, or who would be driven into the rocks.
“Stupid finja,” Finnivus muttered like a pouty child. “That lying mako over-promised and under-delivered. Over-Promised Under-Delivered,” Finnivus said, taking care to emphasize the first letter of each word. “O-P-U-D! Opud. I just made that up. It’s brilliant!” Tydal returned and Finnivus told him, “Tydal, make sure my new word opud is used in daily conversation by everyone in court.”
“Yes, my emperor!”
Finnivus preened for a moment and then gnashed his teeth once more. “But that’s what he, she, or it is—an opud! And when I see that opudding dweller again, I’ll—I mean, we—will have our vengeance!
Finnivus curled onto the mobile Speakers Rock on top of the blue whale and looked as if he were a minute away from a full-fledged weeping fit.
Opud! Incredible! It was hard to believe he was master of all he surveyed!
Velenka snorted.
She shouldn’t have.
Finnivus whipped his head around, and his eyes locked onto her. Suddenly the tiger’s body language was one of a dangerous predator. Very dangerous. “Yes?” he asked quietly.
She heard the question clearly as it was dead silent in the court. Velenka kept a bland smile on her face but knew well that her life hung by the slenderest of currents.
Dumb, dumb, dumb! Velenka yelled inside her mind. She had let her guard down, and the emperor’s quick-silver mood had shifted, this time directly at her.
“You were saying?” Finnivus asked again, this time more forcefully.
Velenka couldn’t ignore him any longer. She kept a neutral look, bobbed her head, and inquired, “I was saying what, my Emperor?”
“You chortled,” Finnivus stated.
“Chortled at what?”
“How should I know? You were the one chortling!”
Velenka made sure to dip her head once more before she spoke. Ugh! She hated being so courteous to this fool! But bobbing her head was better than losing it! “If I did chortle—”
“YOU DID!” Finnivus screamed, startling some in the court so they twitched their tails. The emperor glared at them. Everyone looked guilty when they twitched. Velenka made sure she didn’t.
“Then it must be so, My Magnificence,” she answered. “I can only tell you I was so sad at your distress about those opudding finja that in my mind I was imagining Gray screaming as you shook him from side to side in your powerful jaws. If I did chortle, it was because of that image in my head, which I find especially pleasing.”
Finnivus relaxed. He allowed the current to push him against the Speakers Rock on his blue whale’s back. Then he addressed the court. “Do you see how effective my new word is? How radiant?” There were numerous murmurs of agreement. One of the other court sharks felt brave enough to tap Velenka on the flank in agreement.
“WHERE IS MY DINNER?!” Finnivus shouted. Tydal was off again, fast as a wahoo during a game of Tuna Roll. “And why are we stopped? I want Lochlan’s head on a platter, so let’s go!” The royal court and armada began moving once more toward the Atlantis and the final battle between Riptide and Indi Shivers.
But Velenka didn’t care just now. Her time in the eye of Finnivus’s stormy current was over, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was almost ready to put her own plan into action. Velenka would get rid of the emperor and put herself on his throne. It would take some time, and, of course, her life would be at risk. But huge rewards only came with equally large risks. After all, Velenka was a descendant of Machiakelpi, the mako who was third in the Line of the First Shiver.
I’ll just have to figure out a way to make his spirit proud, she thought.
“SLOPPY, SLOPPY, SLOPPY!” STRIIKER BELLOWED at Riptide’s recently recruited mariners. “Hold your positions until the order to attack is given! Watch and listen for the commands!” Striiker looked over at Whalem, who nodded approval. It took a lot of effort to swim around, correcting the recruits’ mistak
es, and the old tiger was in no shape to do that.
But Whalem could transfer his lifetime of knowledge and experience to Striiker in a series of one-on-one talks, as they had been doing since after the Battle of Riptide.
Barkley couldn’t believe how well Striiker had learned everything. Whalem even taught Striiker the correct way of yelling to scare the recruits into listening closely. Yelling practice! Striiker was amazing. He soaked up every single word like a sea sponge. But it didn’t give him the right to treat everyone like a loser.
Barkley couldn’t take it anymore. He swam out from the massed formation and yelled, “We’re trying our best! We aren’t real mariners, so don’t be such a tailbender!”
Striiker roared over and bumped him toward his place in the formation. “You’re not a real mariner? Reality check—you better become a real mariner, even if you are just a dogfish, or your head will wind up on the emperor’s platter! So excuse me if I don’t have time to stroke your flanks and talk about hurt feelings!”
Barkley got back to his position, muttering something about great whites with big egos. Striiker heard and shouted, “What’s that? What?”
“Nothing!” Barkley answered.
“Dog breath here just got everyone another hour of training!” Striiker announced. “Anybody else have something to add? Any of you? Then, fins up and attention hover!” There was much grumbling, but the group of newly drafted sharks snapped into position. The great white grunted, satisfied. “We’re going to keep doing this until we get it right!” Striiker began the drill again. This time the result was somewhat better.
But Barkley was still irritated. Striiker never made fun of a tiger, or blue shark, or especially a great white, by insulting their entire species. But for Barkley it was always doggie this, or dog-breath that. Striiker—and many others—always had an extra insult about dogfish ready to go when they got into an argument with him.
Barkley stewed. I’ll show him! So help me I will!
Unfortunately his mind wasn’t on the drill and he turned the wrong way, causing a tremendous crash as sharkkind swerved to avoid ramming him. Soon, Striiker was yelling about dogfish in general—and him in particular—once more.
