by Raymond Cain
“It takes some getting used to,” Fitch agreed. “But it’s not so bad after a while.”
Flynn wiped his hands on his kempcloth trousers. “We have to get out of here.”
“I agree, but how? We don’t know where our ships are and even if we did, it’s too far to swim to them.”
After seeing the cave where his Searunner was taken, Flynn had a vague idea what direction to go but Fitch raised a good point. If the salari saw no need to post guards, the ships were likely far enough away that swimming was not an option.
Flynn sniffed the air. It was musty, but breathable. “Why is there air in this room?”
“It’s coming in from over there,” Fitch replied, indicating one corner of the room. The water was bubbling like the superheated water from a volcanic vent.
“What’s causing it?” Flynn asked.
Fitch shrugged his shoulders and Flynn restrained from rolling his eyes. Looking for a way to acquire a transportable source of breathable air would have been one of the first things he did after capture.
Flynn dove into the water and followed the trail of bubbles to its source. They were created by mermaid’s kisses that were locked away in a thick steel cage. The plants could provide hours of breathable air but he couldn’t reach them. The bars were too close together to fit his arm through and the cage door was secured by a sturdy padlock and a steel chain.
Flynn was almost out of air when he returned to the surface. “Mermaid’s kisses,” he said, removing his tunic and wrenching the water from it. “In a cage secured with a lock and chain. If we break the chain, we can take leaves with us and get out of here.”
Fitch brightened. “I’ll look for a rock.”
The two of them dug through the dirt and after an hour of scraping with his fingers, Flynn found a rock that looked like it might work. It was skinny enough to fit in the chain links, and it looked sturdy enough to break them. Fitch leaned in and his eyes widened.
Flynn smiled. “We might have a way out after all.”
Chapter Three
Flynn and Fitch spent the rest of the day taking turns diving down to smash the lock with the stone. After dozens of attempts, the lock hadn’t budged.
“I think it’s weakening,” Flynn said, trying to sound optimistic.
Fitch didn’t say a word. The skeptical look on his face said enough.
“Well, I’m not giving up,” Flynn said. “We can work on it more tomorrow.”
Fitch shook his head and turned away. After wiping water off his arms and torso, he curled up on the dirt and hugged himself. It was cold in their small island prison and Flynn paced until he was warm. In time, he curled up in the dirt.
Sleeping on the damp ground was difficult. He only missed one day of meals but it was enough to make Flynn’s stomach grumble all night long. When sleep finally did take him, it was a welcome reprieve from hunger but it was not rejuvenating.
The next morning, Flynn was cold, hungry, and tired. Part of him wanted to give up on trying to break open the cage and wait for a rescue. But with Seahaven in lockdown, there would be no rescue attempt. Even if there was, there was no chance they would be found. Steeling his resolve, Flynn picked up the rock and returned to the water, certain he would never see home again unless he escaped.
Many hours and dozens of dives later, the lock began to loosen. The shackle rattled in the padlock body but it would not open. His progress should have invigorated him but he was too fatigued to appreciate it. He pulled himself onto the shore and collapsed from exhaustion. Fitch sat near him with his head hung low, staring blankly at the dirt.
“Are you going to help?” Flynn asked between breaths.
“It’s not working,” Fitch replied dejectedly. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he spoke.
“Yes, it is!” Flynn insisted, “The lock is loosening.”
“Loose, perhaps, but it won’t open. It’s just a waste of energy.”
Flynn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So you’d rather wait and die? Or become a slave?”
“Better that than wasting energy on an escape that will never work.”
Flynn shook his head in disgust. He lay on the dirt and mustered his nerve for another attempt. In time, he dove again and again until he was too exhausted to move. After two days without food, it was difficult to find the energy to do anything. He lost track of how many attempts he made and eventually, he fell asleep.
It was Flynn’s third day without food and when he woke up, his hunger was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His stomach was clenched, as though an unseen being was squeezing it, and there were sharp pains as though spears were stabbing into it. He hadn’t realized hunger could hurt and he felt weak for feeling so diminished after only three days without eating. He made regular trips to the moss-covered wall to drink muddy water. After a while, he didn’t even notice the taste or the grainy residue left behind.
Flynn sat in the dirt and stared at the rock. It was chipped after days of prying at the lock and he was beginning to wonder if Fitch was right about it being a waste of time. It was a challenge to muster enough energy to stand up, let alone make diving attempts at the lock, but there was no telling how long it would be before the azurans came to take them away. They had to escape.
As Flynn slowly got to his feet, five salari quietly emerged from the water. They were the same five humanoids who arrived two days earlier and he sat back down, careful to put the rock under him to prevent its discovery. Fitch gave him a reassuring nod.
The young salari female with long blue hair carried two stone bowls. Her armed companions kept their spears leveled at Flynn and Fitch as she set their bowls by the edge of the island. The soggy kelp did not appear appetizing but to Flynn, but his stomach growled in anticipation.
“Excuse me,” Fitch said, addressing the salari. He pointed an accusing finger in Flynn’s direction. “He’s planning an escape.”
Flynn’s jaw dropped. “Fitch, what are you doing?”
Fitch kept talking as though Flynn hadn’t said anything. “He’s got a stone beneath him that he intends to use to break the padlock to the mermaid’s kisses.”
“Fitch, shut up!”
One of the scaly warriors flipped his spear around and shoved the butt end into Flynn’s chest. The blow knocked him backward and the stone beneath him was revealed. The female looked at Flynn with a sorrowful expression and two of the warriors approached him, threateningly.
One of the warriors picked Flynn up by the arms and the other one punched him in the stomach. They punched him repeatedly in the face and stomach until he collapsed. Once he was on the ground, they took turns kicking him in the ribs. Flynn barely retained consciousness during the beating and between hits, he caught glimpses of Fitch collecting both bowls of kelp and gorging himself.
Bruised and bleeding, Flynn was dragged to the wall and manacled by the ankle. The salari picked up the rock, nodded approvingly at Fitch, then disappeared into the water.
With one eye swollen and a stream of blood leaking from his nose, he glared at Fitch. He was at a loss for words.
Fitch continued eating from both bowls of kelp, licking his fingers between bites. Manacled to the wall, Flynn could do nothing but watch.
“You’re probably wondering why I did that,” Fitch said.
Flynn glared silently.
“Well you see,” Fitch said, swallowing down another mouthful of Flynn’s portion. “There’s a reason I’m still alive after all the time I spent here. Whenever I inform on someone who’s trying to escape, the salari protect me from the azurans. Plus, I get more food,” he added, holding up a soggy kelp leaf to drive his point home.
“You’re an idiot,” Flynn said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “We could have escaped.”
“I doubt that little rock of yours would have broken the lock. In any case, the azurans will take you in a day or two to do who knows what to you. Meanwhile, I’ll still be alive and well-fed. I’m not an idiot, Flynn.
I’m a survivor.”
“You’re not a survivor. You’re a coward,” Flynn said, his swollen upper lip twisted into a snarl. “And a traitor.”
Fitz nodded, conceding the point. “Perhaps. Thanks for dinner, by the way,” he added, helping himself to another mouthful. “My stomach shrank since I’ve been here. I could hardly finish it all.”
Chapter Four
Despite his injuries and the despicable man he was imprisoned with, Flynn was smiling on the inside. During the beating, he’d stolen a key ring from one of the guards. There were five keys on it and he was confident they would open his manacle and the padlocked cage containing the mermaid’s kisses.
Fitch was staring absently into the dirt but he snapped to attention when Flynn used one of the keys to open his ankle restraint.
“You stole the guard’s keys?” Fitch said, brightening. “Great job! Now we can get out of here!”
Flynn snorted. “Are you serious? As though you didn’t just betray me minutes ago? You can find your own escape.”
“Don’t judge me, Flynn. If you’d been through what I’ve been through in this place, you would have behaved the same way.”
“No,” Flynn said through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t.”
“Perhaps we’ll never know,” Fitch said. “But you can’t leave me here to starve and die. You hate me, and for good reason, but I know you. You wouldn’t impose that fate on anyone.”
A torrent of anger rushed through Flynn’s veins. If he had more energy, he would have throttled Fitch with his bare hands. He was angry at himself as well because it was true; he would not leave Fitch behind, no matter how much he deserved it.
With a snarl, Flynn nodded. “Let’s go.”
Fitch smiled broadly and Flynn gritted his teeth so hard, he nearly shattered them.
After taking a deep breath, Flynn dove down to the steel cage. In his weakened state, using the keys to open the padlock was exhausting. The first few keys didn’t fit and he was nearly out of breath when the fourth key clicked open the lock. As he reached inside, Fitch appeared next to him and pushed him out of the way. Fitch grabbed mermaid’s kisses by the handful. A cloud of bubbles escaped, the precious air they contained lost in the struggle. Flynn pulled the boy back, but not before most of the flowers were mangled. He took what was left of the tangled mess, stuffed a few leaves in his mouth to fill his lungs with air, and stuffed more leaves in his pockets. Fitch did the same.
Grateful for his swimming boots, Flynn kicked his way down the tunnel. After four days of hard work and no food, he was too exhausted to use his arms and he relied heavily on the boots’ enchantment to speed him along. He popped another leaf in his mouth, filling his lungs with air, and soon reached a four-way intersection. Fitch, equipped with a pair of swimming boots of his own, was right behind him.
Flynn had no clue which way to go and after an inquisitive look back at Fitch—who shrugged—he chose the route that seemed most likely to connect to the cave where his Searunner was taken. A lack of vegetation on the walls left the water dim but glowing fish lit up an intersection ahead. The tunnel branched in four directions and Flynn was at a loss as to which way to go. When Fitch caught up to him, the boy shrugged and popped a mermaid’s kisses leaf into his mouth. Shaking his head, Flynn headed down the tunnel that had the most fish in it, reasoning that it led more directly into the ocean.
They reached a three-way intersection and hid behind a corner as a female salari entered the junction from a different direction. She was the same young female that brought them food earlier that day. Fitch traced his finger over his throat, silently indicating to Flynn that she should be killed, and swam into the intersection after the girl. Despite his exhaustion, Flynn was the faster swimmer and he overtook Fitch after a handful of swimming strides. He caught the salari by her webbed foot and pulled her into his arms. Fitch reached for her neck and Flynn spun her out of reach. He shook his head no and Fitch glared, his angry expression turning into one of exasperation.
The female struggled to get an arm out of Flynn’s grip and she removed the golden clasp that was clipped onto her left ear. She handed the clip to Flynn and muttered something in her watery, gurgly tongue. Curious why she would hand him a clasp at that moment, Flynn clipped it onto his left ear.
“….you understand me now?” the female asked.
The first part of her sentence was meaningless noise but as soon as the earring was clasped onto his ear, Flynn understood her words perfectly.
“How can we understand each other?”
“I don’t know what you just said,” the female salari continued, pulling her other arm free from Flynn’s hold, “But my name is Tylea. Many of my people have these earrings. They were purchased from a distant city, and their enchantment enables the wearer to understand spoken languages. It’s easier when each person has one but you and I can still communicate by taking turns wearing it.”
Flynn nodded.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Tylea continued. “We’re not bad people, but in order to survive, we’re forced to capture others.”
A quizzical look passed over Flynn’s face.
“The first time the azurans came, they captured or killed most of our tribe’s warriors. After that, we could not defend ourselves and their captain offered us a deal that we were powerless to refuse. Either we provide him with five of our best warriors each week, or we provide them with five other humanoid warriors. We hate capturing innocents and giving them to that monster, but we had no other choice. We had no warriors of our own to spare.”
Flynn returned the earring and Tylea clasped it onto her ear. “What is their captain’s name?” he said, trying to articulate each word as best he could. Without a breathing helm to create an air pocket over his face, speaking underwater became more difficult.
Tylea squished her blue eyebrows together as she puzzled over Flynn’s garbled words. After he repeated himself, her eyes widened in understanding and her answer made Flynn cringe. “Theoric,” she replied. “For months, he’s terrorized us. When we try to resist, he destroys our homes and slays our people. We have no choice but to do as he says. He will be here in two more days for the next shipment.”
Flynn clenched his fists in rage. It was infuriating to learn that Theoric, his parents’ murderer, was also the one responsible for the atrocities to the salari people. He handed Tylea back the earring and promised her that he would help her people, eliciting an open-mouth glare from Fitch. Flynn shook his head disparagingly at his companion until a wave of dizziness passed over him. He popped a mermaid’s kisses leaf in his mouth and started breathing normally again.
The salari stared up at Flynn, her opaque green eyes brimming with hope. She handed him back the earring and spoke after he clipped it on, “Follow me. I will take you to your ships.”
Flynn nodded and Tylea led them down one of the tunnels. Fitch grabbed Flynn by the shoulder and shook his head disapprovingly, but Flynn paid him no mind. Flynn trusted others too easily at times, but the salari’s facial expression when he offered to help looked too sincere to be a lie. Also, he was unwilling to kill her and it would be nearly impossible to restrain her and find their ships without detection.
As they left, Fitch hesitated, but Flynn kept on swimming. He didn’t care if Fitch came with them or not. Their route took them through a maze of criss-crossing tunnels, pausing occasionally to avoid small groups of salari that swam by or rode by on giant seahorses. Eventually, Tylea led them into a water-filled chamber and gestured with her webbed, scaly hand for them to follow.
Flynn gasped when he entered the chamber. Dozens of ships filled the room. His Searunner and his companion’s Marlin I were in there, piled on top of ships crafted from stone, steel, glass, and some materials he could not identify. One vessel resembled the bell of a giant jellyfish and he wondered if the vessel was a living organism. Another ship was built from hardened vegetation . A steel vessel with glass windows resembled a giant squid, com
plete with eight metal limbs that ended in hooks. Of particular interest was a quartz vessel that reminded him of his aquazite one. The quartz ship was spherical, air-filled, and it had a hole on the bottom for entering and exiting.
“You are free to go,” Tylea said, extending her webbed hand palm-up to Flynn.
The words startled Flynn because he had forgotten that he was still wearing her earring. He gave it back to her, and she offered him a dimpled smile.
Flynn clasped Tylea’s shoulders with both hands and smiled at her. Fitch walked behind them and eyed all the vessels, perhaps to look for one that might be more valuable or impressive than his own ship. Flynn hurried to reclaim his Searunner before Fitch tried to take it.
His air was running out but Flynn didn’t bother taking any of the mermaid’s kisses leaves in his pocket. His Searunner was crammed between a stone submersible and a vessel resembling a steel fish with glass windows. His family ring flickered and the hatch doors slid open. After some effort, he yanked his ship free and slipped inside. After so many days without back support, every muscle in his back groaned in delight when he settled into his liquid pilot’s chair.
Fitch’s Marlin I was buried deeper in the pile and a small part of Flynn wanted to help remove it, but he rubbed his sore jaw and changed his mind. The Searunner’s aquazite hull glowed bright blue, resembling a crystalline shark. He flipped two crystal switches on the inner hull, closing the hatch doors and turning off his vessel’s glow. Fitch stared enviously at the crystal vessel, then resumed pulling out his Marlin I.
Flynn shoved the acceleration lever forward, speeding out of the chamber and cruising out through the tunnel. Before long, he emerged from the cave and sailed over the salari community. Dozens of the scaly humanoids were navigating between stone huts and carrying goods. As he cruised over the hills they looked up at him, concern written all over their faces at the sight of an escaped prisoner. Fitch’s Marlin I emerged in the distance behind him.
