“I know what you’re gonna say, Tashi,” he replied.
“You do?” she asked, surprised.
“Of course, and you’re right,” Vantana added.
“I am?” she followed, still caught off guard by the doctor’s response.
“You bet,” he said. “We’ve been putting ourselves in a heck of a lot of danger, and—”
“That goes without saying, but that is not what I wish to talk with you about,” Tashi interrupted before Vance could continue any further. He had tried to anticipate her concern and had completely missed the mark. “There is something that has been troubling me, and the closer we get to the coast, the more concerned I become.”
“To trouble you, it must be mighty troublin’,” Vance remarked. “What’s up?”
“We will be breathing underwater with the injections Ranger Naughton provided, correct?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Our bodies will react to the lack of breathable oxygen, and the serum’s properties will kick in, giving us the means to breathe like an aquatic creature. I’ve done it before. You grow gills for a little bit—it’s no big deal. Although, it’s freaky at first as your—”
“You misunderstand my reason for bringing this up,” she interjected. “I am not worried about growing gills. I am worried about Sam—”
“He’ll be fine,” Vance tried to assure her. Tashi really wished this human would stop trying to predict her intentions.
“I’m sure he would be, but he did not receive the same serum that you did,” she pressed. Vance eyed the Guardian, suddenly serious.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I watched Ranger Naughton give you the injection in Sprite’s cabin. It was light blue in color, but the one given to Sam when he was still unconscious appeared dark blue, nearly black.”
“Well, he had problems with the effectiveness of the bigfoot serum, so maybe it was a stronger dose,” he suggested.
“A dose like my own?” she asked. Vance looked at her sideways, uncertain of her meaning. She continued, “The dosage he received was the same as the one I received. And, as you know, my blood is rather unique.”
“Yeah, I know,” Vance told her. “But all I can tell you is that while I’m not totally familiar with Ranger Naughton’s methods, they work. Penelope wouldn’t do anything to harm Sam. We’ll know straightaway if the serum isn’t working, and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” He winked at Tashi and continued ahead, but the Guardian hung back for a moment. She didn’t doubt that Ranger Naughton knew what she was doing; quite the contrary. Tashi believed the ranger was extremely adept at this science, and that is why the situation confounded Tashi. She wondered if there was something that Ranger Naughton was hiding, something about Sam London that she knew but no one else did.
“Tashi!” Sam yelled back with an arm in the air. Iaira’s wounds must have returned, Tashi concluded, and she raced ahead to heal the mermaid’s body once again.
By the time they reached the shoreline, Iaira had already undergone two additional healings. They were increasingly losing their effectiveness, and Tashi knew it would not be long before the healings ceased working altogether.
Upon Iaira’s request, they carried her to the water’s edge, where she dipped her hand in the ocean.
“Makara,” she whispered with her hand submerged. A few moments later, a mass of bubbles appeared on the water’s surface and a creature emerged. Dandak bowed almost immediately.
“What is that?” Sam asked.
“That, my friend, is the Makara. An ancient creature whose name is derived from the Sanskrit for ‘sea monster,’ ” Dandak explained. “It is associated with Ganga and Varuna, two legendary beings from my culture’s mythology.”
Tashi found the creature’s appearance to be, in a word, confusing. It was as large as an elephant and had an elephant’s trunk, but its lower jaw jutted out and was lined with sharp teeth, like that of a crocodile. Its two front legs were also like those of a crocodile, but its hind legs were flippers, and its tail was that of a walrus. It sat in the water and waited as Dandak and Dr. Vantana placed Iaira on its back.
“He is one of the protectors of Ta Cathair,” Iaira said softly. “He can take us to the city’s edge. Everyone, climb on.”
One by one, Tashi, Sam, and Dr. Vantana mounted the creature. Tashi took a place behind Iaira and in front of Sam, so that she could heal one and stay close to the other.
“Please tell the Makara that we will need to adjust to the water,” Vance informed Iaira. “It might take a few moments for us to develop the gills necessary to breathe.”
“He is now aware,” the princess replied. “Hold on.”
The Makara dove into the ocean, and Tashi instinctively held her breath. Vantana nudged her and Sam. He pointed to his mouth—which was closed—and shook his head. He opened his lips and breathed out the remaining oxygen in his lungs. It bubbled up to the surface. Closing his eyes, the doctor took in a gulp of water. His body began convulsing immediately, desperate for air. Sam appeared horrified by the display, so Tashi reached out and grabbed his hand to comfort him. She pointed to Vance’s neck, right below his ears—the skin was opening up. Three slits appeared on both sides and began to open and close, taking in water. A moment later, Vantana opened his eyes and gave a thumbs-up.
“You should be able to hear me,” the doctor said. He looked to be speaking normally, but his voice sounded different, as if it had vibrato. Tashi knew she could hold her breath for much longer than Sam but decided it would be best if she made her transition before him so that she could concentrate on his reaction to the serum. She released the oxygen still in her lungs, and her body demanded a breath. The Guardian took in the ocean water, and her body spasmed, trying to reject the liquid now filling her lungs. A wave of warmth rippled over her skin, followed by a stinging pain below her ears. Her skin split open and gills formed. Tashi suddenly had control of her body once again and was relieved to have the unpleasant experience behind her. Turning her attention to Sam, she waited for his transformation. Sam’s eyes were wide, and Vance put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s gonna be okay,” the doctor told him. “You got this.”
Sam exhaled, and the ocean water rushed inside his body. Just like Tashi and Vance, the boy convulsed. His expression was one of sheer terror. Sam’s body continued to shudder, and Tashi grew concerned.
“Maybe we should bring him back to the surface,” she told Vantana.
“Just give it another moment,” he suggested. Sam’s head hung down on his chest, his body still shaking. The Guardian eyed the doctor.
“This is not right,” she said. “I will return him to—”
“I’m fine!” she heard a voice exclaim. She peered back to Sam to see that he was exactly that—fine. There were gills forming below his ears, and Tashi noticed a twinkle in his eyes when they had finished—a sparkle of light that she had not seen in Vantana’s. She caught the eye of the doctor, who shrugged, as if to say, I guess it worked.
“This is the coolest thing ever!” Sam announced, the water rippling from the sound waves he created. Perhaps she had just been overconcerned, the Guardian concluded.
With all of them transformed, the Makara dove deeper into the water. The last glimmer of light from the surface above winked out, and darkness enveloped them. Fortunately for Tashi, her eyes were sensitive enough to see in the darkness, and she surmised that Ranger Naughton’s injection might have also helped enhance this ability. There wasn’t much to see at this depth—she’d occasionally spot a fish or two, but otherwise it was barren. Every time it appeared they had reached the seafloor, the Makara somehow managed to find another crevice or valley that would take them even farther down. After a few minutes of this continuous dive, Tashi spotted what she thought might be the end of the journey. There was a faint light in the distance tha
t was becoming less faint by the moment. When they got closer, the Guardian could see it was a ring of iridescent coral that was at the mouth of a tunnel, lined with the same phosphorescent material.
“The entrance to the city,” Iaira told the group in a labored voice. Tashi noticed that the princess’s wounds had returned in full. The marks from the bites on her face made her hardly recognizable anymore. But the worst part was, the Guardian had her hands on the princess the entire time. As Tashi suspected, her healings could no longer come fast enough. She had seen this young woman transform before her very eyes—and she wasn’t talking about her fin. Just days earlier, the princess had been basking in her wealth and fame. She’d been consumed with vanity and materialistic pursuits and obsessed with her own popularity. She’d sought the approval of complete strangers, her gems, and had cared only for herself. But through this journey, the Guardian had watched these last vestiges of Pearl Eklund fade away. Now Tashi hoped they would reach the city with enough time to save Princess Iaira.
The Makara entered the coral tunnel, and the twinkling colors passed by them with such speed that the colors began to blend and blur together. The group was zooming through a portal, twisting and turning and dropping deeper.
“No worries now, Princess,” Sam assured her. “We’ll get you cured.”
They shot out of the tunnel like a rocket and into a massive cavern. Tashi simply assumed it was a cavern, given the manner in which they arrived, but she could not see the walls in any direction except for the spot where they had emerged. Sitting in front of them, though, was a city unlike any Tashi had ever seen—an undersea kingdom that made Atlantis seem dull and lifeless. Surrounding the city were farms of multicolored seaweed and glowing aquatic plants and flowers. There were aquatic animals that Tashi did not recognize, including a creature that appeared to be a full-sized cow with flippers and birdlike fish with colorful fins that resembled wings, among others. Beyond these fields was the city itself—a coral and crystal metropolis that sparkled and glittered in the bluish bioluminescent light that emanated from the city’s streets and buildings. She could hear the roar of a crowd in the distance, and Iaira perked up.
“Of course,” she muttered. “Take us, Makara….” The Makara shifted direction and headed toward the noise. The origin was the most illuminated spot in the city—an undersea arena that reminded Tashi of the ancient Colosseum in Rome, Italy.
The Makara let them off in a field of seaweed on the outskirts of the kingdom. Tashi could see crowds of mer-people and selkies entering the arena. Skirmishes broke out between the groups, and security officials swooped in to break the two species apart.
“What event is that?” Sam asked.
“It’s the Seahorse 5000,” Iaira replied. “It’s an annual race, and the sport is our most popular pastime.”
“Looks like the fans can get pretty rowdy,” Vance said.
“I don’t ever remember it being like that,” Iaira told him.
One of the security officials—a large male selkie—was suddenly upon them.
“Who are you creatures, and what are you doing in this zone?” he asked gruffly.
“Zone?” Iaira responded, confused.
“This is a selkie-only zone. I could arrest the lot of you for trespassing without wearing the proper permits.”
“My name is Dr. Vance Vantana of the Department of Mythical Wildlife. We’re here on an errand for Phylassos.”
“Isn’t the gryphon from the over-earth?” the officer asked.
“That’s right,” Vance replied. “And this is Princess Iaira. We’ve come to bring her home.” The security officer took one look at Iaira’s discolored, pockmarked face and grimaced.
“She’s the long-lost princess of Ta Cathair?” he asked, incredulous.
“Absolutely, she is,” Sam asserted, annoyed by the selkie’s tone. “And we can prove it. We just need to see the queen.”
“Take your proof to the mer-side of the city and get in line behind all of the other would-be Iairas. There’s at least one a day claiming to be the heir. Now move along to the neutral zone,” he said, gesturing toward the arena. Tashi pulled Iaira to the designated area, with Sam and Vance following.
“It’s like Anastasia,” Vance remarked. “She was a Russian princess from a long while back who was thought to be dead, but when they couldn’t find her remains, several women came forward claiming to be her. Unfortunately, we don’t have the time to try to convince a bunch of bureaucrats.”
“I agree,” Tashi said. “I can no longer keep Iaira healed. The magic is growing stronger.”
“We do have another way to meet the queen,” Iaira whispered. She closed her eyes and called out in a weakened voice, “Rosi.”
“Who is Rosi?” Sam asked. Before he got his answer, there was a commotion in front of the arena. Mer-people and selkies dove this way and that, scrambling out of the way of a giant seahorse as it charged toward the group. The Guardian took an immediate protective posture.
“It’s okay, Tashi,” Iaira whispered. “He’s a friend.”
The creature darted straight for the princess. It was a majestic beast, about the size of a land horse but with blue shimmering skin, front legs with fins insteads of hooves, and a long curved tail. The creature leaned down to Iaira and nuzzled her neck.
“You remember me,” she said, petting the seahorse’s head. The animal nodded. “I was the reigning champion when I left,” she relayed to the others. “There was no one faster than Iaira and Rosi.” She smirked, as best she could, and added, “I always found it ironic that the most coveted prize for winning was meeting my mother, whom I was always trying to avoid.”
“You mean, if you win the race—” Sam began.
“You meet the queen,” Iaira replied.
“You’re in no shape to race, Princess,” Vance told her.
“I’m not going to. Sam is.”
Of all the unusual experiences Sam London had had in his time with the DMW, sitting at the starting line of the Seahorse 5000 atop a jet-powered seahorse in a majestic undersea kingdom was one of the strangest. When Iaira had suggested the strategy of meeting her mother by winning what appeared to be the underwater equivalent of a NASCAR race, both Tashi and Dr. Vantana immediately voiced their opposition. After all, Sam had zero experience riding one of these creatures, let alone at death-defying speeds. It was much too dangerous. But Iaira insisted, reminding them they had no other options and her time was running out.
The Guardian couldn’t ride, since she needed to keep the princess alive until they got her help, and Dr. Vantana was too large to give them their best shot at winning. Professional seahorse riders were on the short side, as it was less of a burden on the seahorse and made the duo more streamlined. Shorter fin lengths were also ideal for riding with the attached jet engines and was one of the reasons why Iaira had been so successful as a child.
Though Sam may have been the right size, he wasn’t the right species. The seahorse’s saddle was designed for a creature with a fin, not legs. That meant he had to straddle the seahorse and bend his knees, as if kneeling. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was necessary to combat drag and keep his legs from getting burned by the jets once they were ignited.
Just thinking about those jets unnerved him. His thumb hovered anxiously above the special button on the reins that initiated the jet propulsion and provided the extreme amount of thrust that made the race famous. The key would be knowing when to use it, as using too much too early would mean running out of fuel, but not using enough would mean losing badly. It was a delicate balance that Iaira said Rosi would help maintain by tugging on the reins to signal to Sam when to hit the button. Iaira had also suggested a good five-second blast off the starting line to break away from the pack and ensure he wouldn’t be playing catch-up for the entire race, which, Sam learned, only partially took place in the arena. Mu
ch of it followed a path through the city. No doubt a way to lengthen the event and provide more viewing opportunities for the many fans.
As Sam waited anxiously for the sound of the coral horn that was the undersea race’s version of a starting pistol, he glanced around at the other racers. Each seahorse and its rider was unique, but all had one common trait: a steely-eyed determination. It was a mix of mer-people and selkies, and the contrast of styles was clearly evident. The selkie riders appeared much more aggressive. They were dressed in clothing fit for a warrior going into battle. The creatures wore black tunics with arm gauntlets and thigh guards. They each had a silver chest plate with shoulder pads that curved back in an aerodynamic design. Their seahorses snorted angrily, while the selkie riders yanked on the reins to keep them from starting before the signal.
The mermen and mermaids were calmer in their dispositions, as were their steeds. They were dressed in sleeker outfits that hugged their bodies and were lightly colored. They ducked down behind the seahorses’ necks and remained perfectly still. As the time until the start of the race ticked away, Sam could feel an increasing number of eyes on him. The occasional curious glances his way became more frequent. And then he spotted a selkie race official near the starting line conversing with a merman rider who was gesturing wildly and pointing at Sam. He quickly concluded that this merman was Rosi’s designated rider—the one she had knocked off to meet up with Iaira. Fortunately, before the merman could reclaim his seahorse, the coral horn was blown and the race was on.
Sam immediately hit the thrust button on the reins, as Iaira had instructed him to do. The jets lit up with a bluish-red flame, and Sam could instantly feel the rush of heat on his legs. Rosi rocketed off the starting line with more velocity than a dvergen subway, which was extraordinary, considering they were in liquid.
Sam instantly took the lead, but quickly realized he applied way too much thrust and was moving too fast as he took the first turn on his way out of the stadium. As the racers charged out of the arena and on toward the city, Sam lost his grip on the reins, slipped off Rosi, and went barreling into a field of seaweed. He regained his bearings and spotted Rosi racing to pick him up. Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw the other riders zooming past and realized he would be playing catch-up for the rest of the race.
The Selkie of San Francisco Page 21
