Even though Iaira had experienced the life-changing epiphany that she was a mermaid princess, her memories were shadowy at best. There was no choice for the group but to try to find Ta Cathair by following the path of the sacred points, starting with the first point—Atlantis.
“The island acts as a kind of neutral zone between mythical creatures of the sea and land,” Sprite explained while Vance snored. “The city has a diverse population and many opposing interests, which enabled the Atlantis Assembly, the city’s governing body, to negotiate an unusual agreement with Phylassos in the aftermath of the curse. For one, the city not only voluntarily shields itself from humans—”
“What do you mean ‘voluntarily shields itself from humans’? It’s not invisible because of the curse?” Sam interrupted quietly.
“No, it isn’t. Any devices or structures built by mythical creatures fall under the gryphon’s curse and are invisible to humanity,” Sprite noted. “But Atlantis was built with the help of ancient humans, who worked closely with dwarves.”
“The city is a hybrid. Part human, part other—like me,” Tashi concluded.
“Correct. And that creates inconsistencies. So the leaders agreed to hide the city through the use of an Atlantean fire crystal, which sits in a tower high atop the island.”
“Have you ever been there?” Sam inquired.
“A few times,” Sprite answered. He had been there three times to be exact—once as a child and twice in his work with the DMW. His second trip was a special errand for Phylassos. On that visit, Sprite recruited an operative to keep an eye on the city and report back with anything that might be of interest.
“What’s it like?” Sam asked.
“To be honest, it is much like a town in the Old West, where everyone instantly knows when a stranger shows up,” the ranger said with a smirk.
“He means they’re paranoid,” Sam told Tashi, who he assumed did not understand the analogy.
“Why is that?” she wondered.
“Atlantis was once a nexus of trade and commerce in the ancient world, but now, because it is always moving and difficult to reach, the populace has become isolated and suspicious of visitors.”
“How suspicious?” Sam followed up at the end of a yawn.
“Let’s just say that although Phylassos ensured that employees of the DMW would be allowed to conduct investigations anywhere the case might lead, we’d best keep a low profile. Atlantis is a wild, unpredictable place where trouble is often unavoidable.”
Sprite had no idea if his plan to get them to the mysterious island would work, given how far removed the city made itself from the rest of the world. All he knew was that in ancient times there were places that could be reached only through the use of a special key. This key would be inserted into a slot on the navigation console of a dvergen subway. Given the dwarves’ involvement in the building of Atlantis, it was believed that the keys were Atlantean crystals, and this was likely the reason Maris had parted with the object. Of course, this crystal had already sent Iaira soaring into the air and blasted a hole into the side of Sprite’s cabin….The question was, would it actually get them to Atlantis in one piece, or just blow them all to pieces? With the fate of the world resting in the balance, Sprite concluded that attempting to use the crystal as a key was a worthwhile gamble.
* * *
* * *
“Why are we picking up speed?” Sam asked as the dvergen subway car shot blindly through the narrow tunnel. They had been traveling for several minutes when the contraption had begun speeding up, which—considering how fast these machines traveled normally—was both impressive and terrifying. Sam remembered it increasing in speed when it was under the spell that had sent him and Vance to Scotland in his first case with the DMW. But this was different. This time the subway was moving even faster.
“I have a working theory, but you’re not gonna like it,” the doctor announced. His answer was barely audible over the noise of the jets.
“I believe I have the same theory,” Sprite added.
“Hold your breath!” Vantana exclaimed. “We’re about to get a little wet.”
Wet? Sam wondered what the doctor meant as he followed Vantana’s request and sucked in a breath. It became clear a moment later when the subway left the track and burst through the seafloor. It shot up to the surface, and Sam was instantly drenched. Then the subway leapt out of the ocean and rocketed into the sky. Iaira and Sam screamed in terror as the car continued its gravity-defying ascent. Maybe Sprite was wrong about all this, Sam thought. If he was, it was going to wind up costing them their lives.
Sam noticed that the car wasn’t shooting straight up. Rather, it was on an arcing trajectory. That provided a little relief; at least they wouldn’t wind up in orbit. And then the car began to descend—more like plummet—back toward the ground. They appeared to be headed for a lush, mountainous island and, more directly, into what appeared to be the mouth of a volcano.
“We’re coming in for a landing!” Vantana declared.
“Headfirst into that?” Sam asked incredulously, pointing at the mountain that was zooming ever closer.
“Let’s hope it’s no longer active,” Vance chimed in. Sam swallowed and shut his eyes, praying that he’d live through this to open them again.
As it turned out, the headfirst landing into the volcano was the preferred method of arrival in Atlantis. As soon as Sam felt the subway’s momentum begin to slow, he cautiously peeked with one eye and saw that the manner in which the subway car was being stopped was reminiscent of the hooks on aircraft carriers that were used to halt landing jets on short, narrow runways. But this wasn’t a hook; it was a metallic net that caught the subway car like a lacrosse ball and deposited it on a track running along a polished stone platform carved out of volcanic rock.
“That was unexpected,” Vance remarked as Iaira hurled herself out of the subway car and then hurled her lunch up onto the platform.
When Sam and the others emerged from behind the waterfall that hid the station, they found an overwhelming sight: an island-city unlike any Sam could have ever imagined. The waterfall flowed down from the emerald-green volcano that towered above their heads. It was the center of a small mountain range that skirted the island’s southern end. The crystal-turquoise water poured into a narrow river, which wound through a valley of lush jungle and into the city, where it split into canals between buildings. And oh, those buildings…
Gleaming towers of blue, green, and white stood more than fifty stories high and fanned out from a central point denoted by a shimmering obelisk that rose higher than all the surrounding structures. It reminded Sam of the Washington Monument on the National Mall in Washington, DC, but there was a niche below the capstone. Inside was a massive blue crystal the size of a truck that gleamed like a beacon in the sun. Sam’s awe was interrupted by the sounds of geese. He turned toward the noise and spotted a dozen colorful birds scampering across an open area near the river, but they weren’t geese.
“Are those dodo birds?” Sam asked in disbelief. He recognized the flightless birds from a school report on extinct animals he had written in third grade. They were about three feet tall and looked like a cross between a duck and a pigeon, with a long, hooking beak. According to his research for the report, the last known sighting of the creatures had been in the seventeenth century.
“Correct, Sam,” answered Sprite.
“Aren’t they extinct?” he asked.
“They would have been if not for the great dodo airlift of 1620,” Sprite revealed. “Now, that would have been a sight to see—a thousand dodo birds being whisked away to safety on the backs of flying horses. Songs were even written about it.” Sprite continued to walk ahead, humming an unfamiliar tune. Sam paused and tried to imagine the fantastical scenario before continuing on. As they approached the city limits, Sprite reiterated, “Remember, if
anyone asks, we are on an investigation for Phylassos and that is all you need say.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Any idea where this first sacred point could be?” Dr. Vantana asked. “I reckon it’s mighty easy to get lost in a lost city.”
Sprite glanced over to Iaira, who bit her lip while thinking.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s all right,” Sprite told her. “There is another option. It has been some time, but I do know a creature who has a finger on the pulse of this city. If there is anyone who knows where the first sacred point is, it would be her.”
“Her?” Vance inquired. Sprite nodded.
“She is a Nuppeppo with a penchant for collecting secrets.”
“A Nuppeppo? That’s from Japanese mythology, right?” Sam clarified. He recalled stumbling across the name when studying Nuks’s history.
“It is,” Sprite confirmed.
Sam’s attention was pulled away by the presence of Atlanteans going about their business. He saw mythical humanoids and their children playing in a park, alongside cynocephali and other creatures.
Sam and the rest of the group made their way into the city center along a sidewalk that ran the length of the river. The city itself looked like images Sam had seen of Venice, Manhattan, and Tokyo all rolled into one. Billboards advertised strange products, giant screens displayed bizarre sports, and flying contraptions carried creatures high above their heads. But there was something else even more exciting that caught Sam’s eye.
The canals of Atlantis were filled with unusual watercraft zipping this way and that, and among those boats were creatures—long-necked aquatic beasts that resembled seals with a giraffe’s neck. Sam had seen pictures of what was purported to be the legendary Loch Ness Monster, and these creatures were an uncanny match. Could they be the same kind of creature that had been spotted in Loch Ness, the large lake in the Scottish Highlands? Sightings of the creature dated all the way back to the sixth century, though no human had ever proven the monster’s existence.
Sam noticed that the beasts had four giant flippers, which they used to propel themselves rapidly through the water. They also had small square platforms on their backs that were carrying passengers, and that’s when Sam suddenly realized that the Loch Ness Monsters were water taxis.
“Are those Loch Ne—” Sam began.
“Don’t call them monsters,” Vance quickly interjected. “They’re sensitive to that.”
“Then what are they?” Sam asked.
“They’re a species of plesiosaur with a few minor differences.”
“Really? What kind of differences?” Sam inquired. Vance pointed to one of the creatures as it made a lane change. It was attempting to get around a giant conch shell that was doubling as a Jet Ski. The Loch Ness plesiosaur shot forward with tremendous speed and whipped in front of the vehicle.
“Whoa! They’re quick!” Sam exclaimed.
“Some of the fastest creatures on the planet,” Vantana told him. “They have to be to avoid detection. It’s an ancient water creature, so it must hide its existence.”
When Sprite stopped at the canal’s edge, Iaira took the opportunity to sit down and let her legs dangle in the water. She quickly transformed them back into a fin. She was getting the hang of it, Sam noted.
Sprite whistled, and one of the Loch Ness creatures swam up to the walkway. The plesiosaur wore a yellow baseball cap that read “Mesterville Argonauts,” which Sam concluded was a local sports team.
“Five of yous?” the creature asked with an accent that sounded strangely Brooklyn-esque.
“That’s right. You wouldn’t happen to know where Squishy and the Believers are playing tonight?” Sprite asked.
The creature scoffed. “Of course. Everyone knows where Squishy plays. She’s got a nightly gig at the Lemurian Lounge in Elasipposton.”
“Can you take us there?” Sprite inquired.
“You sure yous wanna go there?” the creature asked. “Squishy is great and all, but why not the new waterfront? They’ve got crystal-bottomed boats, and the whale Jonah rode in gives rides to tourists. It’s pretty popular.”
“Is it popular with your wallet as well?” Sprite said, suggesting that the creature received a kickback for his recommendations. The monster sighed.
“All right, all right. Climb on. The name’s Niles,” he said.
“Nice to meet you,” Sprite offered, without giving his name. The omission did not go unnoticed, as the creature’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before shifting to Iaira and her fin.
“You—mermaid—you look familiar to me.”
“I have that sort of face,” Iaira retorted. “You mind if I just swim alongside?”
“No offense, but you couldn’t keep up. Grab one of those straps and hold on tight,” he said, nudging his head toward two straps attached to the rider platform. They looked like the kind in subway cars that commuters use to hang on. Iaira swam over and grabbed one.
As Tashi climbed on, Niles studied her with squinty eyes. He made a barking sound like a seal. Tashi paused and met his gaze, then turned away. He chuckled.
“Hang on!” Niles warned as he took off through the water. He zoomed in between other vehicles and animals, zipping right and left and right again. Iaira appeared to be having an absolute blast and even shouted an excited “Woo-hoo!”
“Do you think he recognized the princess?” Sam quietly asked Sprite.
“Perhaps. Hopefully he is discreet,” the ranger said.
“He doesn’t strike me as the discreet type,” Vantana added.
“Me neither,” said Tashi. “That bark he uttered—in his language it means ‘Guardian.’ ”
“Smart cookie,” Vance concluded.
“It is best if we finish our business as quickly as possible and leave this place before rumors start circulating,” Sprite suggested.
Niles pulled into a narrow offshoot of one of the city’s main thoroughfares. After an abrupt stop, he announced, “Here we are. Tell ’em Niles sent you!” Sprite eyed him.
“Another kickback?” the ranger asked.
“C’mon, pal. I’ve got a family of eighteen to feed.”
Sprite nodded, then pulled out of his pocket several coins that glinted with a reddish-gold hue.
“What are those?” Sam whispered curiously.
“Orichalcum,” Sprite told him. “An ancient alloy that originated right here in Atlantis and remains quite valuable.” Sprite dropped the coins into a pouch that hung off Niles’s neck.
“Very generous,” Niles said, his eyes widening. “Very generous. Will you be requirin’ any additional transportations? I can wait and take you where yous wanna go.”
“That would be welcome, if it’s not too much trouble,” Sprite told him with a smile.
“No trouble at all. I’ll take my dinner break, if it’s all right with yous.”
“Sure,” the ranger agreed as they all stepped off Niles’s platform to a set of limestone stairs that led down from the sidewalk and into the water, where the nightclub was partially submerged. Fortunately, it was only about three feet of water. They headed down the steps to the entrance to the club, where a flickering sign at the bottom of the stairway announced: “The Lemurian Lounge Presents Atlantis’s Own Squishy and the Believers. Nightly at 5 AT and 7:30 AT.” Sam spotted Iaira swimming through a tunnel from the canal to the club’s entrance.
“They’re very accommodating,” the mermaid observed.
“When you’re a place that also caters to sea creatures, it’s just good business,” Sprite said. He glanced up at the sun. “The first show ends in a few minutes; hopefully, I can have a word with Squishy between sets.”
“Let’s go grab a table in the interim,” Vance announced, and started for the door. Sprite put a hand on V
ance’s shoulder to stop him.
“Perhaps it would be best if I went alone,” he suggested. “Squishy can be reticent about land dwellers.”
“I appreciate that, Ranger, but heck no,” Vance told him. “I’m not splitting us up. Not here. We go together.” Sprite nodded but still appeared hesitant.
The Everglades ranger slid the front door open, and they sloshed in, with Iaira swimming alongside. Music filled the venue—it was a slowed-down version of an eighties song Sam had heard before.
“Culture Club.” Vance identified the band, amused.
The chorus of the song asked the peculiar question “Do you really want to hurt me?” Sam found it particularly haunting when paired with the singer’s voice, which was feminine but deep and raspy. The group made their way to a rounded booth and sat down.
The crowd was sparse and included an eclectic array of mythical creatures, many of which Sam didn’t immediately recognize. The waiters appeared to be a sort of humanoid dolphin. Vance must have noticed Sam eyeing them.
“Encantado,” he noted. “They’re from South American folklore.”
They sped around delivering food and drinks, their trays held a few inches above the water’s surface. The tables were both above and below the water, with some patrons eating snacks that consisted of live fish still swimming in bowls. Gross, Sam thought. The interior of the club was dark and dank, like a cave. In fact, it appeared to be carved out of the same black volcanic rock as the subway platform.
Sam’s eyes finally reached the band on the stage, part of which was also submerged. There was a bevy of strange instruments, including horns made of shells; red coral drums, played by an octopus-man; and string instruments that used thin strands of multicolored seaweed. The singer was one of the oddest creatures Sam had ever seen—in person or in the pages of books. The one they called Squishy was as tall as Vance and three times as wide, with pinkish-white skin. A lot of skin. So much that the creature’s face was nearly lost in the drooping folds of flab. Stubby appendages stuck out from the body, which were likely its arms and legs. It looked like a melting candle, with a dome-shaped top that finished in a square-shaped bottom. Squishy’s eyes were barely visible, but Sam could see they were staring at his table.
The Selkie of San Francisco Page 13
