Transformation

by Kara Dalkey

  A small part of her heart was glad that Corwin was coming along for another reason, but Nia didn’t want to think about that. Until she had done her duty to help Atlantis, she couldn’t allow her emotions to be distracted.

  Gobaith did happy somersaults in the water ahead of her, tentacles streaming behind him. Nia was amazed at how much he had grown in just a few weeks. Once he could fit snugly in the palm of her hand, but now he was two-thirds as long as she was tall. Pretty soon he’d be bigger than she was, possibly even bigger than Corwin if his current growth was any guide.

  With Corwin at her side, Nia turned and swam out toward the open sea. It was hard not to be distracted by the many, many creatures that lived in these shallower waters—creatures Nia had learned about in Academy but had never actually seen.

  A playful seal swam alongside Gobaith and did barrel-rolls in the water with him before dashing off again. A small pod of dolphins approached, gray with darker gray lines along the side as well as a yellow streak from eye to tail. Suddenly Nia, Corwin and Gobaith were in the middle of them, a couple of dolphins above, two below and one to either side. Nia squeaked at them in a way that would be a friendly greeting to the Atlantean dolphins she knew. These dolphins didn’t seem to speak the same “language,” but they did act sociable. The ones to either side kept gently nudging Corwin and Nia, daring them to swim faster.

  Only Gobaith took the bait, and he sped ahead. Squealing with anticipation of the race, the whole pod took off after him. Nia vaguely remembered something about how dolphins sometimes eat squid, and she sent the thought to Gobaith, Be careful!

  Corwin laughed beside her. A land-dweller’s laugh underwater was a strange sound. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about Gobaith. Look at him go!”

  The Farworlder led the dolphins on a merry chase, circling over and under Corwin and Nia, staying just ahead of the lead dolphin, even leaping out of the water.

  “I hope he doesn’t wear himself out,” Nia said, but she was enjoying the show, too.

  Suddenly Corwin tensed beside her. “Nia, watch out!” Corwin’s knife was in his hand. Nia looked to her right. A huge conical shape was approaching—a giant gray mouth agape with eyes atop it and a shark’s body behind.

  Nia paused and began to gather her power to fend it off, but the shark turned aside, avoiding them. Nia sighed in a cloud of bubbles when she realized what it was. “It’s all right, Corwin. I’ve heard of those creatures—it’s a basking shark. It only eats tiny animals, the sort of things that make up the kraken. It won’t eat anything bigger, especially not us.”

  “If that thing eats kraken, then more power to it. Good shark, I say. Good boy!”

  Nia laughed. “No, it doesn’t eat kraken, just—oh, never mind. Where did Gobaith go?”

  I’m over here. Off in the murky distance, Nia saw a waving tentacle. “Please don’t get too far ahead, Gobaith!”

  “Now you know how I felt in the cistern below Vortigern’s castle,” Corwin muttered, behind her.

  Nia turned. “One thing I should have warned you about. Sound carries very far in water. If you don’t want me to hear you say something, you’ll have to say it in sign language.”

  “Why would that matter?” Corwin asked. “You’ll hear me think it, won’t you?”

  “Maybe, although if you concentrate on directing a thought just at Gobaith, I might not catch it. Of course, I’ll feel slightly hurt and left out if I know you’ve done that,” Nia said with a toss of her head. She turned and continued swimming on.

  Nia didn’t know what to do about Corwin’s ambivalence toward the telepathic joining. Even though it had been weeks since both she and Corwin had been “marked” by Gobaith, Corwin still fought to hide his thoughts from both of them, only letting them in now and then. Nia suspected why Corwin kept her out, but Gobaith couldn’t understand and was confused by it. Atlanteans were taught from an early age that joining with a Farworlder was the greatest honor a mermyd could experience and that it was only beneficial. Corwin, however, was still terrified by it.

  Corwin has so many fears, and he works so hard to not let us see them, Nia thought. Doesn’t he know that the bravest ones aren’t those who have no fear, but those who overcome their fears? He probably wouldn’t believe me if I told him that.

  He is young. He will learn, Gobaith thought at her, clearly shielding that thought from Corwin.

  You should talk, little one, Nia thought back.

  Yes, but I learn faster.

  They swam for hours as the water got colder and colder. Nia tried to reach out with her mind and heart for Atlantis, trying to sense it within the unis. But she could only determine that it was in a southwesterly direction. She couldn’t tell how far or how deep. Where is it? It can’t be far if I reached Corwin’s land soon after leaving. Nia allowed herself to surface, Corwin popping up beside her, to see how far they’d gone. The shores they had left were still a greenish-brown line on the northeastern horizon.

  Out here, the water wasn’t calm as it had been in the bay. White-crested sea swells rose high, lifting Nia and Corwin up and dropping them down. It was dizzying, disorienting, and so Nia dove back into the calmer depths. Corwin reluctantly followed.

  “So how far is it?” Corwin asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nia admitted.

  “YOU DON’T KNOW?”

  “You don’t have to shout,” she snapped. “I told you, sound carries underwater. I was unconscious when I woke up in your land, so I don’t know how I got there from Atlantis. I only know it’s this way.” Actually, Nia was beginning to worry about her inability to sense the way home. She’d always assumed she could find it, the way so many fish can find the place they were born, without even thinking.

  Gobaith swam over to her and gently wrapped a tentacle around her wrist. Don’t blame yourself. My fathers and mothers and ancestors have all worked to keep the city hidden within the unis. They have cast spells to hide its location and to prevent outsiders from reaching it. We couldn’t simply swim to it, even if we knew its physical location. You and I reached Corwin’s land, Nia, because Ar’an carried us there. He used the last of his powers to bend the unis, to place us on that shore.

  “Oh,” Nia said, surprised, but even more discouraged. “Did he choose our landing because Corwin was there?”

  Perhaps. I think Ar’an sensed a beacon of power in Corwin’s land. I sense it too, but I don’t know what it is. Our kind visited that land, long, long ago, but that is all the unis tells me.

  “We found a ruin that had Atlantean writing in it, while we were on our way to Vortigern’s castle,” Corwin jumped in.

  That may be where the beacon is, then.

  “But what are we going to do?” Nia asked.

  “Yes,” Corwin agreed. “Why did we swim out all this way if we can’t even hope to get where we’re going?”

  Patience, my friends. I’m leading us to a particular place. I found the knowledge within Nia’s mind, though she herself doesn’t remember it.

  “Remember what?” Nia asked.

  The transfer points. You were taught about them in an ancient history lecture at the Academy a year ago. You might have remembered better, except your mind kept wandering to thoughts of a certain attractive male mermyd who was—

  “Forget about that!” Nia blurted, blushing as she remembered the day when she had first noticed Cephan. What a mistake that had been. “What about the transfer points?”

  My forebears had hoped that, in time, peaceful land-dweller kingdoms would spread around this entire planet. They had wanted a way to travel swiftly, to be prepared for the time when land-dwellers were ready to accept Farworlders and the knowledge we have to offer. Unfortunately, that was not to be once Atlantis had to hide beneath the waves. But a few transfer points had already been built, and one of them is nearby. My oculus can sense its faint signal.

  “But how will we use the transfer point?” Corwin asked.

  The same way my ancestors planned. W
e will use its energy to enhance our magic, with which we will fold the unis.

  “Fold it?” Corwin persisted, “like . . . cloth?”

  Exactly. The edges of a piece of cloth may be far apart when it’s flat, but if the cloth is folded, the edges can be right together. By folding the fabric of space and time, relative to ourselves, two locations that may be far apart will seem side by side, and it will take no time to get there.

  Nia found it difficult to fold her own mind around the idea, but she trusted Gobaith. Every passing day, she was amazed at the growing wisdom and confidence the young Farworlder displayed. Still, one thought concerned her. “If the transfer point sends a signal to your oculus, then Ma’el and Joab can find it too.”

  We can only hope they haven’t bothered to look for it yet.

  “Then we’d better hurry,” Nia said. “Lead on, Gobaith.”

  The Farworlder led them down and down, deeper into the sea. The water became even colder, and Nia liked it. After all, it was what she had been used to in Atlantis. She could tell, however, that Corwin was becoming uncomfortable.

  “You can use our magical power to warm yourself a little,” she suggested to him, “so that you can adjust to the cold more gradually.”

  “I don’t want to waste any,” Corwin said, though his teeth were chattering. “We don’t know how much energy we’re going to need at the transfer point.”

  “True,” Nia said, “but we don’t want your mind too numbed from cold when we get there.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Corwin growled.

  A low moaning came rumbling through the water, reverberating against their skin.

  “What was that?” Corwin shouted, looking wildly around.

  “It’s a whale song,” Nia said, smiling with wonder. She paused to drift and listen. “I had heard that the humpbacks are the greatest singers in the world. Now I know that it’s true.”

  “That’s singing?”

  “Sssh.” Nia tilted her head back and tried to interpret the high squeals and low booms of the songs, but she didn’t know the humpbacks’ “language.” She could see them now—dark shapes, like moving mountains, swimming in the distance.

  They’re calling to other whale families far away, Gobaith interpreted. They’re telling each other where to find the best feeding places.

  “Amazing that simple conversation can sound so beautiful,” Nia breathed.

  Wait, Gobaith thought, and Nia sensed a new urgency coming from him. The nearest family is saying they sense something strange in the water. There are predators approaching. They’re going to leave for safer waters.

  “Predators? Do they mean us? Or a land-dweller ship?”

  No, not us. I, too, sense something isn’t right.

  Nia looked around. A pod of three sleek black-and-white orcas was approaching. Nia admired them, too, for a moment, then noticed that the orcas were headed in their direction in a very determined fashion.

  Help me create a shield, both of you.

  “But Gobaith—”

  Just do it!

  Trusting the Farworlder’s instincts, Nia brought her arms up crossed in front of her. With Gobaith feeding her energy, she helped him thicken the water ahead into a spherical, transparent wall surrounding them.

  The orcas slid along the wall, mouths gaping wide, displaying tooth-lined jaws. They circled the transparent wall as if looking for a way in.

  “Aren’t these what fishermen call killer whales?” Corwin asked.

  “That’s an unfair name,” Nia said, still shocked at what she was seeing. “Orcas do not attack mermyds or land-dwellers. And they’re smart—but not this smart.” Nia kicked her legs and turned in place, trying to keep the wall strongest next to where the orcas were swimming.

  And these have brought friends.

  “Sharks!” Corwin cried.

  Pale as death, three white sharks swam into view. These were also coming straight at Nia, Gobaith and Corwin. Upon reaching the protective sphere, the sharks began circling with the orcas.

  “Won’t making this water wall use up the power we’ll need to get us to Atlantis?” Corwin asked.

  We will never reach Atlantis if we die first.

  “Good point.”

  “I’m sure that’s what Ma’el is counting on,” Nia said. “This has to be coming from him. Those sharks don’t even belong in these waters. And they aren’t even trying to attack yet. They’re just hoping to wear us down.”

  Yes, sent Gobaith. I can sense Ma’el’s power in this.

  More dark shapes joined the orcas and the white sharks—sharks of every length and description, spotted and striped, large and small. They joined the other sharks, circling, watching and waiting.

  The hair on Nia’s neck stood on end as she watched the eerie parade of predators. She shivered, the chilly water finally getting to her. She could feel her arms tiring, and there was a growing hollowness in her stomach as she imagined what the sharks would do if—or when—the wall failed. She, Corwin and Gobaith could have used their magic to fight off as many as three or four sharks, maybe. But these were too many. Far too many. Nia clenched her fists and her jaw and tried to keep her courage up.

  “We’ve got to do something,” Corwin said. “If we just stay like this, we won’t have a chance. Gobaith, could you open a small space in the wall? Maybe I could kill them one at a time.”

  “That might work with the small sharks,” Nia said, “but the orcas could swallow you whole before you even touched them.”

  “Great,” he muttered.

  Nia could feel the hunger of the sharks and orcas building. She didn’t know if that was Ma’el’s work or if they simply hadn’t eaten since they were summoned here. Once either she or Corwin or Gobaith were even wounded, there would be a feeding frenzy the likes of which these waters hadn’t seen before.

  Nia’s heart thudded in her chest and her gills worked furiously. The magical wall was cutting off water flow, making it harder and harder to draw oxygen from it. They had even less time than she’d imagined. She and Corwin would suffocate before the spell wore out. There’s no way the three of us can defeat so many of them, she thought sadly. If only we had our own army to fight them. Or if only . . . “Wait!” she said suddenly. “I have an idea . . . .”

  Chapter Two

  “Tell us your idea!” Corwin demanded, his gills flapping furiously. “I’m running out of air! Is that part of Ma’el’s battle plan, too?” Corwin turned round and round in the small magical sphere. The circling sharks and orcas, their sharp teeth gleaming, were making him terrified, not to mention dizzy. He tried not to bump into Gobaith, who floated in the center of the sphere, his ten tentacles standing straight out like a hedgehog’s quills, sending energy to the sphere wall.

  “We need moving water to breathe,” Nia answered. “This protective bubble we’ve built has made the water inside too still. There’s no fresh oxygen getting in, and we’re using up what little there is. But listen—if Gobaith and I can make a little hole in this wall, just big enough for your knife, and you can stab just one of the sharks, they’re so hungry that the scent of blood in the water will cause them to kill and eat each other.”

  “They will?” Corwin asked. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I have to reach my hand through the wall?”

  “Not far, just enough to stab one when it swims near. It’s better than letting them in with us, even one at a time, isn’t it?”

  Corwin couldn’t argue with that. “But what if Ma’el can keep them from going mad at the scent of blood?”

  “I get the feeling he’s barely holding them in check,” Nia said. “Controlling so many animals would be hard, even for Ma’el. Besides, it’s not like we have any other options right now.”

  “Gobaith, what do you think?” Corwin asked. “Should we do it?”

  It will be difficult. You will have to be careful to stab at the right time. But they are circling close to the wall. It’s worth try
ing. Nia, I’m going to make an opening near Corwin. Try to keep the water wall firm around it so that I don’t “pop” our bubble.

  Nia nodded and turned to face the sphere wall beside Corwin. A bright vertical line appeared in the sphere to Corwin’s right. The line broadened until it was the width of his hand. There it is. Hurry.

  Corwin swam up right beside the wall, his knife gripped in his hand. He waited until a white shark swam very close. As soon as the head passed by, Corwin stabbed out with the knife, scoring a cut along the shark’s right fin. The shark turned, as if to bite, but it bumped its head into the wall. It continued to swim in a circle with the others, but in a wobbly manner, leaving a thin stream of blood behind it.

  That’s good. I feel their anxiety, but Ma’el’s controlling spell still holds. You will need to wound more of them.

  “It’s never as easy as it sounds, is it?” Corwin muttered, as he positioned himself, arm cocked back, beside Gobaith’s hole in the wall. Another shark swam close: a large spotted one. Corwin stabbed, but only scratched its side.

  “Keep trying,” Nia urged. She was beginning to look a little drawn and pale from the effort of keeping the hole contained and the wall solid.

  Corwin positioned himself again and waited. He felt himself weakening from the lack of oxygen in the water. He began to wonder if the spots he was seeing were the sharks or some sign of suffocation.

  Then a little shark, only three feet long, came swimming sideways along the wall, belly facing Corwin. Now’s my best chance. Closer, closer, the shark wriggled, and then Corwin punched the knife through the hole as hard as he could. The shark struggled to free itself, opening the wound wider and longer down its belly.

  “Bring your hand back, Corwin, quick!” Nia cried.

  Corwin jerked his hand back as a cloud of shark blood bloomed before him. The dying shark flailed helplessly, unable to swim with the others.