by Kara Dalkey
Tyra nodded and hugged her. “I understand. Good luck to you. Take care, Avatar Nia. I—I love you.”
After a pause to sort through her conflicting feelings, Nia replied, “I love you, too.”
“Avatar Nia,” said the young male mermyd, “I am Gyes. Let me serve you. I know where many of the other dry rooms are. If it will assist your plans, I will free as many as I can.”
Nia nodded. “Thank you, Gyes. If we can keep Ma’el distracted with many problems in the city, he may not notice when we slip into his stronghold.”
“It would help,” Gyes said, “if your Farworlder king could come with me. Many might be healed by him.”
“I’m sorry,” Nia said, “but we can’t do that. It could be dangerous if we were separated.”
Gyes nodded with acceptance. “I’ll do the best I can, then, without.”
“Avatar Nia,” said a young woman mermyd with light brown hair, and a tail of white and brown scales. “I am Eldoris. I was a servant in Ma’el’s stronghold. I was arrested for stealing food for my family, who were hiding. I know where the sword you’re searching for might be. I can help guide you.”
“That’s a brave offer,” Nia said, “but it would be very risky for you.”
Eldoris shook her head and gazed at the floor. “Ma’el had my family found and killed. We were the last of the Skate clan. I will do all I can to help avenge them.”
Nia placed a hand on Eldoris’s shoulder. “Then I thank you for your help. But don’t let your hunger for vengeance make you careless.”
“I won’t, Avatar,” she replied.
“Avatar Nia,” said the older male mermyd, “I, Theron, have spent all my life among the waterworks of the lower depths. If you think it will help, I will do damage to some of the conduits in order to create further distraction.”
Nia nodded. “That might be good, Theron, but don’t do anything that will immediately endanger our people. There are few of us enough as it is.”
Theron bowed. “As you will, Avatar.”
Nia blinked at the solemn words directed at her, her heart filling with new emotions. She saw the hope on these mermyds’ faces and marveled at their open adulation. She’d been just an ordinary Atlantean girl a month ago. In Corwin’s land she’d been treated like a child, like a freak, by all the land-dwellers except Henwyneb. Now her spirit swelled with strength, as if the belief the mermyds had in her was passed on to her, giving her power in some mystical fashion. She deeply wanted to be the rescuer everyone hoped for. But Nia also felt an edge of fear that she might disappoint them, that she might instead bring their destruction—just like the old prophecy had originally warned.
Gobaith sped in through the archway. I’ve trapped the guards behind a fallen screen, but they’ll escape from behind that quickly. We must leave. Hurry!
The mermyds stared at Gobaith with wide-eyed reverence. “Our king says we must hurry and depart,” Nia said briskly. “Try to be brave. Atlantis has survived for thousands of years. We will survive the outrage of Ma’el as well.”
“Hail and good fortune to you, Avatar Nia, Avatar Corwin,” said the mermyds.
“Hail and good fortune to you, glowing sea-snails,” Corwin said in return, clearly still having trouble speaking Atlantean.
The other mermyds simply smiled in tolerant bafflement and said, “To the glowing sea-snails!”
With a last hug for her mother, Nia said good-bye. Letting Eldoris guide them, Nia, Corwin and Gobaith left the Archives.
“Maybe from now on you’d better let me do the talking,” Nia said softly to Corwin.
“What? What’d I say?”
“Nothing too embarrassing. Yet.”
“But they liked it.”
“You called them ‘glowing sea-snails.’”
“Oh. I hope that’s not an insult.”
“No, but sometime—”
“Sometime I might say something insulting. Got it. Shutting up now, Avatar Nia.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? Everyone else does.”
“That’s why not.”
Eldoris looked back at them. “If you please, good Avatars, let’s all be silent from here on.”
Eldoris led them through dim, deserted colonnades and corridors, some occasionally sloping down. Nia hadn’t explored the Farworlder Palace much beyond the nursery and the Archives. The fear of getting lost and accidentally finding herself in the forbidden areas had stopped her. Now she didn’t know where they were and had lost her frame of reference. Worse yet, the water became darker as they moved away from lighted areas, and it was becoming more difficult to see. They seemed to be heading in the right direction, according to her directional sense, but ultimately she had to trust Eldoris.
They left the Farworlder Palace through a small, undistinguished archway and entered a side street at street-level. Nia or Corwin could have put down their legs and walked, if they chose, but it was much faster and more comfortable to swim.
Finally Eldoris stopped, treading water with her tail. She nodded toward something ahead and said, “There’s the entrance. But we have to hide here a moment.”
Nia, Corwin, Gobaith and Eldoris lined up along the edge of one building. When Nia peered around the corner, she could dimly see a dark archway, flanked by two mermyd guards. The guards had retained their Orca livery of black and white, and they held long spears in their hands. These were not the idle, for-show Orca guardsmen that would keep the unwanted out of noble parties in past times. These two looked tough and determined. And, Nia thought grimly, Ma’el must have sent them there just to wait for us.
Chapter Eight
“So, what are we waiting for?” Corwin asked softly, as Nia peered around the corner again. “Let Gobaith do his little dance to get them out of the way, and we’ll move on.”
“It’s not that simple,” Nia said. “These mermyds are expecting us.”
“Let’s see. We’ve scared off the King of Britain and his knights and his wizards. I’ve thrown Ma’el and Joab themselves over a castle wall. We’ve defeated a horde of hungry sharks, a whirlpool and the kraken. Gobaith has led two sets of Atlantean guards off on merry chases. How difficult can these guards be?”
“That’s not the point,” Nia argued. “We’re closer to Ma’el’s lair now. And these mermyds won’t be overawed by Gobaith. Somehow we have to sneak past them without giving them any reason to worry.”
“Ah! Sneaking,” Corwin said. “Now that’s my sort of challenge. None of this risk-your-neck, knock-down drag-out fighting business for a change.”
“Shhh!” Nia hissed. “They’re looking this way.”
Corwin kept his mouth shut and tried to let his thieving instincts take over. Nothing came to mind right away. Usually, if Fenwyck had a bit of larceny in mind, going in under the noses of two well-trained guards wouldn’t be the route he’d choose. There was always a window or side door that would be a safer entrance.
“Are you sure,” Corwin asked Eldoris, careful to choose the right words from Nia’s mind before speaking, “that this is the only way we can go in?”
Eldoris shrugged. “It’s the way I know.”
“We don’t have time to search for another,” Nia said.
Do you have any ideas? Corwin mentally asked Gobaith.
You’re the clever one, replied the Farworlder. We’re counting on you.
Can’t you just wave your tentacles and do some magic ju-ju so that they won’t see us or something?
I’m tired after all the so-called ‘dancing’ for the guards. And why do I have to do all the magic for us? You’re an Avatar. It’s your turn.
Corwin sighed. My turn. Wonderful. I hate having to be clever under pressure. But life with Fenwyck had demanded precisely that. At least the beachcomber life had been peaceful. Until he’d found the leviathan and the shell that had contained Gobaith.
Corwin rubbed his forehead as if to stimulate thought. If the guards are waiting for us, then they need to
be distracted by something as not us as possible. Something they might expect to see, but not us. But if they’ve been ordered to wait only for us, then they won’t even bother with something not us. Unless it was something more important than us. This is ridiculous.
“We need to distract them in a nonfrightening way,” he murmured. Fenwyck had known lots of techniques for distraction. It was half of the art of stage magic, after all. What would be pleasantly distracting? Well, a girl, but that was too obvious, and too risky for Nia or Eldoris. Corwin remembered a toy used by Fenwyck once, a spinning top with swirly lines on it. Fenwyck had been able to keep an audience member quite fascinated with it, long enough for it to be . . . profitable. But Corwin had no such toy.
Then Corwin remembered the glowing jellyfish he had seen when he, Nia and Gobaith had first arrived in the Great Deep. The gently pulsating, drifting, dancing creature had been fascinating. Corwin could have watched it for hours if their mission hadn’t been so urgent. The guards must be bored if they’ve been waiting for a long time. Maybe a sight like that would be just soothing enough. And a jellyfish wouldn’t be that unusual here.
Corwin whipped off the white tunic he wore, catching the tube holding the maps and handing it to Nia. “Hold these, please. Gobaith, here.” Corwin draped the tunic over Gobaith’s head, so that just the tentacles showed beneath. “Gobaith, you’re a jellyfish. Think like a jellyfish. Dance like a jellyfish. Convince the guards out there that you are, indeed, a jellyfish. I’ll do an illusion spell to make you glow like one. You must entrance the guards. Beguile them. And try to get them to step away from the arch, while you’re at it.”
Don’t ask much, do you?
“I have great faith in you, Gobaith.”
Corwin put his hands on the Farworlder’s cloth-covered head and concentrated on the memory of the jellyfish he had seen. Energy glowed beneath his hands and spread through the cloth. It poofed up and spread outward like the mantle of the creature Corwin had seen. Lines of tiny, glimmerimg lights appeared on Gobaith’s tentacles.
“That’s almost right,” Nia said. “Here.” She also placed her hands on the billowing cloth mantle and suddenly Gobaith’s disguise had a translucent quality, as though you could see all the way through.
“Beautiful!” Corwin said. “Now you’re ready. Go out and dazzle your awaiting public, Gobaith.”
Corwin could swear the Farworlder uttered a mental sigh before drifting out from behind the building and slowly pulsing toward the Orca guards.
As Corwin and Nia watched, Gobaith began his act. Bounce, drift, bounce, spin, float up, sink down: Gobaith did a mesmerizing dance. Corwin had to be careful not to watch too closely, or he’d be entranced himself.
The Orca guards looked puzzled at first. Then they began to gently smile as they watched Gobaith. But they didn’t move away from the arch.
Great, Corwin thought. Now what?
I’m going to have to move in closer, Gobaith sent. And you all will have to do something risky. I will try to hold their gaze at a high eye-level. You will have to crawl between them while they’re looking up.
Don’t ask much, do you? Corwin thought.
I have great faith in you, Gobaith replied. I’m going to move in now. Wait for my go-ahead. Explain the plan to Eldoris, Nia.
Nia began speaking softly to Eldoris, while Gobaith drifted closer to the guards, but higher, so that their faces were tilted up. Then Gobaith began to spin, flashing lights along his “mantle” at a fast but regular, pulsing rhythm. The guards stared wide-eyed, their mouths going slack.
Now! Gobaith sent.
“I’ll go first,” Nia volunteered, “to show Eldoris how to do it.” Nia kicked off and built up speed crossing the roadway at about knee-level to the guards. Just before she reached them, she stretched her arms ahead and her legs straight back and arrowed between the guards in a perfect motion.
“Well, that doesn’t look too hard,” Corwin murmured. “You next,” he told Eldoris, nudging her gently. Looking frightened but determined, Eldoris swam forward. She had a tail rather than legs like Nia, but she put the tail to good use to gain momentum. At the last moment, she turned sideways, also knifing between the guards without their noticing.
“My turn,” Corwin said to himself.
Hurry, Gobaith sent. I’m getting dizzy.
Corwin pushed off from the building corner and skimmed along the roadway. But he let one knee bend too far and it banged against a flagstone. Corwin silently mouthed an “Ow!” as he rolled over and held his aching leg. He wondered if he had time to heal himself. Or maybe transform his legs into a tail like Eldoris had.
HURRY!
So much for that idea. Corwin gritted his teeth and ran like a merdog on fingers and toes toward the guards. As he got closer and closer, he realized he didn’t have the speed to neatly pass between the Orcas and besides, he was bigger than either Nia or Eldoris. His odds weren’t looking good. What do I do, Gobaith?
Just get past them as fast as you can! Gobaith began to sway from side to side, and the guards’ attention swayed with him. Go!
Corwin leapt. His arms, his chest, his hips went through, but his hurt leg was still bent and it banged against the leg of the righthand guard. Yipe!
Go go go go go go!
Corwin swam for all he was worth, ignoring the pain in his knee, ignoring the yelling of the guards behind him. I’ve done it now. All my cleverness for nothing. We’re through. Down and down he swam, until he came out the other end of the passage in a dimly lit corridor that was like daylight compared to the place he’d just left. He plowed into Nia. “Go! The guards are right behind me!”
No, they’re not. Gobaith shot out of the passage over Corwin’s head. I convinced them that they bumped into each other. They’re now busily accusing one another of clumsiness. A good thing they weren’t friends much to begin with.
Corwin let out a long, bubbling sigh of relief and let go of Nia with embarrassment. “Thank you, Gobaith. I owe you one.”
I owe you many. There’s no need for accounting between us.
Nia gently pushed Corwin off of her. “Quiet, now. Eldoris told me that servants of Ma’el come along here frequently. We have to pretend to be good little slaves.”
“How can I do that? Gobaith left my tunic behind.”
“It didn’t fit you anyway,” Nia said. “But Eldoris will help us.” Nia nodded to Eldoris.
Eldoris nodded back and closed her eyes. As they watched, her hair darkened to almost Callimar’s color, and her tail scales became gray and moss green.
“Does she have an oculus?” whispered Corwin.
“No, this is a skill all of her family has . . . had. They can change color at will to match their surroundings. It’s probably why Ma’el wanted to destroy them—they’re potentially dangerous.”
“I’ll be right back,” Eldoris said. “Wait here.” And she swam off.
“Are you sure we can trust her?” Corwin asked.
Nia shrugged. “I do. The Skate clan was known for humility and strict honesty, so that they wouldn’t abuse their powers of deception. Otherwise they wouldn’t have survived as long as they did.”
Before long, Eldoris returned, holding a large handled basket and a new tunic for Corwin, with long sleeves. Corwin put the tunic on. “At least this one fits,” he said.
“And with the sleeves,” Nia added, “no one will notice the hair on your arms.”
I guess the basket’s for me, Gobaith sent.
“I’m afraid so,” Nia said with a rueful smile. “Dignity is something we can’t afford right now.”
Gobaith swam over to the basket and as Nia held open the lid, he curled up inside it. It’s not nearly as cozy as my shell was. I’m almost getting too big for this.
“You’ll just have to make do.” Nia closed the lid. With Eldoris’s help, Nia did up her long, silvery hair in a knot on her head, and Eldoris covered it with a dark scarf. Then Nia shut her eyes and concentrated hard. Though it hu
rt, she used her powers to make her nose just a little flatter and broader, her eyes a darker blue, and to put a bit of fin on her ears. When she opened her eyes again, Corwin was staring at her.
“What?” Nia asked.
“No, you just—you look different.”
Nia scowled. “Do I look different enough that I won’t be recognized?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have if I didn’t know you before.”
“Good,” Nia said. “You know, if I’d had this ability before . . . everything, I might have made myself completely different. I was so unhappy with my appearance, I’d probably have made myself look like Callimar.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Corwin said in a funny voice. “I like the way you are. Were.”
Nia blushed and glanced away. “I’ll change back when it’s all over. Thank you.”
“Should we do anything transformational for me?” Corwin asked. “No, wait, it’ll hurt, won’t it? Maybe I’ll just be fine the way I am.”
“Hmmm,” Nia said, “you should at least put fins on your ears, and maybe make your nose a little bigger.”
Corwin winced. “I was afraid you’d say that.” He put his hands to his nose, saying “Ooh! Ow! Oo!” And then he put his hands to his ears and stretched out little fins on them. “How do I look?”
“Definitely different.”
“Handsome-different or ugly-different?”
“Honored Avatars, we’d better go,” Eldoris interrupted, glancing back over her shoulder. “The servant shift is about to change.”
“Gobaith,” Nia said, tapping the basket, “can you take a look ahead in time and tell us what we should watch for?”
I have tried, he sent back. But my future vision is clouded. Something is preventing me from understanding clearly what lies ahead.
“Probably Ma’el’s doing,” Nia said. “He managed the same thing while he was plotting to take over Atlantis. That’s why the High and Low Councils became confused and didn’t know what to do. That’s why they blamed me.” Nia put aside her bitterness and followed behind Eldoris. Corwin joined her.
“I hate going in blind like this,” he muttered.
