“Sorry about that,” he told Rosi as he climbed back on. She snorted and shot back onto the track. They were in the middle of the pack now, but holding steady. The racers were kicking at each other and smashing into their opponents as if it were a demolition derby. Luckily, they didn’t pay Sam any mind, probably because he didn’t appear to be enough of a threat, he surmised.
On their way to the city center, the course wound through what Sam concluded was the Grand Canyon of the ocean floor. It was a deep valley of colorful seaweed and glimmering coral reefs. Vents in the bottom of the canyon occasionally erupted with bursts of boiling water, suggesting an underwater volcano. Thankfully, Rosi seemed to know exactly where these spots were and deftly avoided them.
The riders were becoming increasingly packed together, and Sam found himself surrounded on all sides, as well as above and below. The fiery discharge from the jets of the riders in front of him created a distortion to the water and heated it up. Not only was he having trouble seeing the path ahead, but Sam could feel the burn of the water as it passed quickly over his skin. The canyon course ended a short distance from the city, and the riders continued the rest of the way along seaweed pastures. Though Sam was moving at quite a clip, he could appreciate the splendor of the kingdom as he approached. There were crystalline towers, buildings made of brightly colored coral, streets of pearl, and seaweed gardens.
The palace was visible at the far end of the city, and there were government buildings lining the street along the way. The racers’ path took a sharp turn right in front of the palace, and Sam could see that the building was constructed of a gleaming sapphire-colored glass and decorated with thousands of precious gems. Sam noted giant pearls, turquoise, opals, and emeralds, as well as purple and red jewels he didn’t recognize. He also noticed a massive armed presence in this area of the city. Mermen soldiers stood with long gun-shaped weapons on one side of the thoroughfare, while selkie soldiers were positioned on the opposite side. Both groups had vehicles that were akin to tanks, but with jets similar to the ones used on the seahorses. The two armies sounded like they were trying to out-cheer the other as the seahorses zoomed by. Seeing the soldiers segregated made Sam realize just how much of a threat there was for armed conflict. With so much depending upon the outcome of this race and which rider won, he could practically feel the weight of this underwater world on his shoulders.
Coming up another straightaway, Rosi signaled to Sam to use the throttle and he did. He was cautious and determined, and was avoiding any nasty skirmishes with his competitors. Sam knew he needed to win to meet the queen. He needed to win to save Princess Iaira’s life. He needed to win to stop a war. Unfortunately, Sam London didn’t win. In fact, he didn’t even come close.
He tried in vain to power his way through the tightly knit mass of racers, using his thrust, but he was blocked at every attempt. When Rosi finally shot across the finish line, she did so ahead of only one other racer. Sam patted the dejected seahorse on the head. He appreciated the faith Iaira had placed in him and was disappointed that he’d let the princess down. Sam London likely would have preferred that the case file exaggerate his seahorse racing prowess, but the fact was, he was a twelve-year-old boy who had no experience riding a jet-powered aquatic equine at mind-boggling speeds, not to mention competing against seasoned professionals. He chalked this up as another sport he wasn’t particularly skilled at. However, even though Sam may not have been a champion seahorse racer, he was crafty…and he had a plan B.
Sam spotted Queen Muiria high atop the arena in a luxury box that featured 360-degree views, which allowed her to follow the action from both inside and outside the stadium. A raven-haired replica of her daughter and dressed in a shimmering gown, Muiria stood toward the front of the box, applauding as the results board replayed the race’s thrilling finish.
Back on the arena’s floor, rings of colorful seaweed were lofted onto the winning seahorse by a pair of ushers as an announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, naming the victor: a selkie called Niallas. Sam recognized him as one of the most aggressive racers on the course.
The crowd cheered as the queen floated down from her box toward the floor, surrounded by security, to meet Niallas near the podium. Muiria’s guards allowed him to approach, but the selkie refused to kneel before the queen. Her security attempted to force him onto his knees, but she waved them off, unfazed. She handed him the glistening, prized trophy, which was adorned with countless precious gemstones, and he lifted it high above his head.
“This is for the selkie!” he declared. Then he added, “And the true ruler of Ta Cathair, General Searus!” Half the crowd went totally wild with applause, while the other half howled in disagreement. The guards moved in to punish Niallas, and Sam saw his moment.
He had not used all of the thrust left in his jets. As the realization that he would not win had crystallized, Sam thought he better keep a little fuel in the tanks just in case he had to make a quick getaway; after all, there were officials who knew he didn’t belong and they might have been waiting at the finish line to confront him. Sam realized that what he was about to do was risky, but he also knew it was his only shot. And it was the very least he could do to save Iaira from an awful fate. Steering Rosi, he positioned the seahorse toward the winner’s circle and hit the throttle. The smidgen of fuel left ignited the jets and sent the duo hurtling toward the queen. A surprised Rosi reared back, but there was little the seahorse could do to stop her forward momentum. Sam was instantly in front of Queen Muiria, and was just as instantly surrounded by soldiers, their weapons trained on him and Rosi. The crowd gasped, and Sam quickly put up his hands.
“Please don’t shoot!” he exclaimed. “I’m human, and I just need to speak with the queen.” Sam’s voice echoed throughout the arena, and he realized this entire incident was being broadcast live on giant screens around the venue. The soldiers yanked him from Rosi and threw him to the seafloor.
“If you are human, how are you breathing with gills?” one of the soldiers asked angrily. “Get the queen to safety,” he said to two of the other soldiers. “We’ll deal with this assassin.” They pulled Sam to his feet, and he spotted the queen’s security attempting to rush her to safety.
“Please! I’m here with Princess Iaira. The real Iaira,” Sam cried out. “I was sent by Maris, the selkie, to bring her home. I’m with the Department of Mythical Wildlife. We work with Phylassos—”
“How dare you insult the queen with your claims,” a soldier said, lifting his weapon and bearing down on Sam.
“Wait,” Queen Muiria ordered the soldier, stopping with her security detail to look back. The soldier halted, as ordered. “Explain your gills,” she said.
“It’s a little complicated, but I received a serum that enables me to breathe underwater,” Sam explained.
“And why should I believe you?” she asked. “Do you know how many others have come here with similar claims, in a vicious attempt to gain passage to the throne through false hope and lies? What makes you any different from those piranhas?”
“Like I said, I’m human,” Sam told her. “Please, come see her and you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”
“It could be a trap, Your Majesty,” one of her advisor’s warned.
“It’s not a trap. We have to hurry. She’s dying. If she doesn’t get help, she won’t survive,” Sam revealed.
The queen moved closer. “Why is she dying?”
“An Adaro—his flying fish poisoned her,” Sam explained.
“And what was she doing with an Adaro?”
“We were following the five sacred points after Maris gave us a crystal and we went to Atlantis and then wound up in Samoa with Ika-Tere and the Adaro attacked. I’d love to explain it all, Your Majesty, but we’re—she’s—running out of time.”
The queen considered his words, then nodded.
* * *
* * *
With all eyes on him, Sam London led the queen of Ta Cathair and her heavily armed entourage out of the arena and to the spot where he’d left Vance, Tashi, and Iaira. The arena crowd was dead silent, as this entire event was still being broadcast on the jumbo screens. Even the selkies watched and listened intently. Sam swam ahead when he spotted the group and saw Iaira lying down with her eyes closed. Tashi had her hands on the princess, but it didn’t appear to be having any effect. Vantana smiled as Sam approached.
“Good save, kid,” he said. “We saw the whole thing.” He pointed to a large screen outside the arena that had been broadcasting the race and was now airing the live scene with Muiria.
The queen froze when she saw Iaira in the Guardian’s arms.
“That is her?” Muiria asked tentatively.
Sam nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied. “We’ve come a long way. Tashi is a Guardian. She has been able to heal Iaira just enough to keep her alive, but the magic is too strong.”
“May I—” The queen gestured that she wished to approach.
“By all means,” Dr. Vantana said.
Queen Muiria swam to Iaira, and her guards remained close. Tashi offered her the princess, who looked to be barely breathing.
“There is no more I can do for her,” Tashi informed the queen. “Only your healers can help her now.” Muiria nodded as she lifted Iaira up and cradled her child in her arms. She brushed the hair from Iaira’s wounded face. The princess’s eyes opened, but just slightly.
“Mother?” she said in a whisper. “Forgive me…,” she pleaded as she began to cry. Her dark sapphire tears floated up and out of her eyes. Muiria embraced her tightly.
“Bring my doctors,” she ordered her guards.
“But, Your Majesty, how can we be sure—” an advisor began to say.
“I know how it feels to hold my baby,” Muiria said, clearly emotional. “Bring my doctors now!” she said firmly. “I lost her once. I will not lose her again.”
* * *
—
As Dr. Vance Vantana waited with Tashi and Iaira outside the arena during the Seahorse 5000, he tried to glean any information he could regarding the political situation in Ta Cathair. He got ahold of two of the city’s newspapers, which appeared to be printed on a thin organic material that was stiff yet flexible in the water. The newspapers told two very different stories about the state of the city, with one clearly written from a selkie perspective and the other from the mer-people point of view. The two headlines read “Extremists Push for War!” and “Selkie Freedom Under Attack!” Given the polarizing language, it was no surprise that the city was in crisis and why Maris was so intent on returning Iaira. He must have seen their union as a last-ditch effort to prevent a civil war.
This day’s newspaper editions were predominantly focused on the queen’s decision to allow the Seahorse 5000 race to continue as planned. According to the papers, the prior year’s race had a disastrous ending, in which one of the leading mermen racers was killed in an accident after bumping against a selkie competitor known for his illegal tactics. The merman was thrown into the path of a volcanic vent and died instantly. The selkie racer responsible for the hit was banned forever from competing.
Given the tensions in the city, Vance was thrilled to see Sam emerge unscathed from the race rather than feeling disappointed he’d lost, especially after the stunt he’d pulled at the end. Sam’s move to meet the queen could have been seen as an attack, but surprisingly, it had worked out for the best. The scene that unfolded was seen by millions of Ta Cathair’s citizens. The silence of both the selkie and the mer-people in the arena and surrounding areas was a testament to just how moving the reunion was between mother and daughter.
* * *
* * *
A little over an hour later, Vance, Sam, and Tashi were sitting at a table in a grand dining room in the palace of Ta Cathair. Though the thought of sitting in a chair underwater seemed unusual, Vantana noted that the ocean water felt thin and light at this depth—like liquid air. He wondered if that was the water’s true nature or if Ranger Naughton’s injection was responsible for the sensation. A variety of edible sea plants had just been brought out on silver platters, and the doctor couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He stabbed at one of the purple plants and popped it into his mouth. It was chewy and tasted like licorice. Eating while submerged in water was a strange feeling, but Vance was hungry enough that he got used to it quickly. He was constantly swallowing water with every bite, and somehow this excess water would leave his body through his gills. Both Tashi and Sam were eating too, especially the Guardian, who had expended a great deal of energy healing Iaira. The last time they saw the princess was outside the arena when the queen’s medical team had arrived and whisked her off to the city’s best hospital.
Vance was briefing Sam and Tashi on what he’d learned from the newspapers about the state of the city, when the doors to the dining area opened and Queen Muiria swam in. They all rose to a standing position in deference.
“Please, be seated,” she said. They settled back into their chairs.
“How’s Iaira?” Sam asked anxiously. The queen smiled.
“The doctors believe she will survive, and I have all of you to thank for it,” she said, then looked to Vantana. “Sam said you were associated with Phylassos?”
Vance nodded. “That’s right. I’m part of an organization that helps ensure that Phylassos’s law is followed and enforced. This case was unusual in that the jurisdiction wasn’t clear-cut. It originated on land but led here.” The queen nodded her understanding.
“I never thought I’d see her again,” she told them. “I believed she had died, but I always held out a little hope that she would return home. When Maris came to me with a picture of a young woman in a human magazine, I told him it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. But he insisted.”
“He was quite determined, that’s for sure,” Vantana said. “Fortunately, he gave us an Atlantean crystal that helped Iaira transform and led us to the first sacred point. She had no memory of her life here. She didn’t know who she was.”
“She thought her name was Pearl Eklund,” Sam added. “And she was pretty famous where I come from. Still living like royalty, in a way.”
“Iaira never had a problem acting the part,” Muiria said with a smile. “It was the actual duty that accompanied the title that she disliked.”
“I know the city is in a bit of an upheaval right now,” Vance started.
“That is putting it mildly,” Muiria admitted dryly. “The selkies view Iaira’s abandonment as a rebuke of their kind. Her actions were just more evidence that we mer-folk believe ourselves to be superior. In the years that followed her disappearance, violent clashes became the norm and a political solution seemed unattainable. So I divided the city into segregated areas to try to ease the tensions.”
“And that made things worse?” the doctor asked.
“Much worse. It separated us. Exposed our base instincts of fear and distrust. The selkies insisted on having their own government. They believe Ta Cathair is their city and are threatening to take it back by force. I believe it’s only a matter of time before the war erupts.”
“Who is General Searus?” Sam asked. “I heard Niallas mention him when he got his trophy.”
“He is a selkie military leader with a royal lineage. The selkies see him as their king, and he has pushed for my abdication of the throne based on Iaira’s violation of the peace treaty.”
“The marriage,” Sam concluded. Muiria nodded.
“Yes. That was part of the agreement. It would allow for joint governance by linking our kinds in a sacred union.”
“Well, hopefully Iaira’s return can help calm things down,” Vance told her. “But there is something you should know about our journey here. I believe there are forces who
were actively trying to prevent her return.”
“I see,” Muiria replied thoughtfully.
“Maybe the selkies are—”
“The selkies are the least of my worries,” Muiria interrupted. “Please, come with me.”
Muiria and her guards led the trio out of the palace and to an area on the outskirts of the city. Vantana spotted hundreds of mer-people and selkies streaming down from an opening above them in the cavern. They were being processed by government officials and watched by soldiers.
“Refugees,” Muiria explained as she gestured to the crowd. “They come from our many colonies around the world.”
“That must be what we saw in the videos from the buoys,” Sam quietly suggested to Vance.
“For sure,” the doctor agreed, then shifted back to Muiria. “Why are they fleeing their homes?” he asked.
“Because of you,” a deep voice bellowed. They turned to find a silver-haired selkie approaching with his own group of guards. He was an older creature, but just as muscular as Maris.
“General Searus,” Muiria acknowledged him. “I did not know you would be gracing us with your presence.”
“This is a selkie issue as much as it is an issue for your people,” he remarked with irritation.
“Hold on a minute,” Vance interjected. “Why is this because of us?”
“Like Ta Cathair, the Syrenis, Gorgonas, and Vannari colonies are built above energy sources,” the queen revealed. “It is what powers our civilization. We call it the silver fire. And it appears humanity has discovered it and has begun to exploit it.”
“Silver fire?” Sam wondered aloud. “That sorta sounds like—”
The Selkie of San Francisco Page 22
