by Brandon Mull
“All right,” Seth finally said, feeling outnumbered and not seeing another option. “Just try not to get me haunted.”
“You’ll see,” the Sphinx assured him. “It will be better this way.”
“We have some experience in these matters,” Ronodin said.
The Sphinx raised his head to look down one of the passages diverging from the room. “Do you feel that?”
Seth reached out to mentally probe the darkness. A sinister presence was coming slowly toward them. “Revenant,” he said.
“Bardox,” Ronodin specified.
“You know him by feel?” Seth asked.
“He speaks for the Underking,” Ronodin said.
“I cannot abide the company of a revenant,” the Sphinx said. “Those days have passed for me. Can I take the doll?”
Ronodin looked to Seth.
The approach of the revenant was undeniable, but part of Seth wondered if they were using the situation as leverage to force him to quickly part with the phantom’s token. There would be no going back after this. Was he really going to do this their way? How much did he know about phantoms anyway? “Sure, go,” Seth said.
The Sphinx grabbed the doll and marched away down a passage where Seth felt no dark presences. Ronodin put a finger against his lips and turned to watch the revenant approach.
“Remember how to interact with the Underking,” Ronodin whispered. “He is ancient and incredibly powerful. Be careful about sharing any desires. He’ll exploit your wants and needs. Be careful what you agree to do for him.”
“You make it sound like I’ll be speaking directly to him,” Seth whispered back.
“You will,” Ronodin said. “Bardox is just a mouthpiece. Almost like a telephone.”
A moment later, an emaciated ruin of a man hobbled into view, cradling a metal weight that was shackled to one ankle. He was hairless and pale, the tendons in his neck stood out, and his ribs jutted grotesquely. The thickest part of his arms were his elbows, and the thickest part of his legs were the knees.
“Bardox,” Ronodin greeted. “You’re looking trim!”
“I must confer with Seth alone,” Bardox said, somehow shaping a strangled croak into words.
“That is my cue to exit,” Ronodin said. He patted Seth’s shoulder. “Have a productive discussion. You can do this.”
Seth gave a nod.
Ronodin left.
Seth waited.
Bardox stared emptily.
“I’m Seth.”
Bardox offered no reply.
After another moment, Bardox opened his mouth so wide it looked like he was screaming. The whispery voice of the Underking emerged, just as Seth remembered it.
“Have you given thought to my offer to remain here in the Under Realm?” the Underking asked. Seth heard the words with his ears, but they also seemed to burrow into his mind. He felt a pull to obey whatever was asked and had to shake himself in order to resist.
“I don’t want to stay here permanently,” Seth said.
“You are in your element here,” the Underking said. “You could do very well.”
“I’m content learning from Ronodin,” Seth said.
“What do you really want?” the Underking pressed, the whispery words squirming into Seth’s psyche.
“I told you. I just want to study with Ronodin.”
“Is that all? Look deeper and speak true. I have sensed questions growing within you. Dispense with false pretenses.”
Seth paused. Ronodin had warned him against sharing desires. But how much could it matter if the Underking already knew? Was there a chance the Underking could help?
“I want my memories back,” Seth said.
“A mortal life is but a flicker,” the Underking said.
“It’s what I have,” Seth said. “I want to make sense of it.”
“Very little lies beyond my reach,” the Underking said. “I could learn who took your identity and how it was accomplished. Pledge to serve me, and your memories will be restored.”
“Aren’t I already helping you?” Seth asked.
“Thus far, you have proven useful,” the Underking said. “You would benefit infinitely more from a permanent arrangement. I do not make this offer casually or often. You have the potential to become as endless as night and shadow.”
The suggestion tugged at him. The words felt compelling, as if only a fool would ignore such an opportunity. Seth felt as if he were treading water in a persistent current that was drawing him toward an undesired destination. If he drifted, if he stopped resisting, he would end up doing the will of the Underking. With effort, Seth held up the hand affixed to the ghostly manacle. “I want this gone. I want to be free.”
“Bring me the Everbloom,” the Underking said.
“If I bring you the Everbloom, can I go free?” Seth asked.
“After bringing me the Everbloom, if you still want freedom, I will grant it,” the Underking said.
“What about my memories?”
“Pledge to join me, and I will help you regain your memories,” the Underking said.
“That’s asking too much,” Seth said.
“What do you expect these memories to do?” the Underking said. “Most mortals are lost and wandering. The more information they have, the more confused they become. Your memories are as likely to haunt and disappoint you as they are to provide comfort and clarity.”
“They might do both,” Seth said. “But I deserve to know my past. I’ve heard conflicting versions. Is there a reason you don’t want me to remember?”
“Why should such a trifling matter concern me?”
“Forget about helping me,” Seth said. “If it doesn’t concern you, and since I’ve been helping you, can you allow me some time to investigate my past? As soon as possible? Ronodin comes and goes. Could I have some of that leniency?”
“Ronodin has no obligation to me,” the Underking said. “He has worked off his debts. After you are free, you can go where you will.”
“We may have the Everbloom before long,” Seth said. “Ronodin and the Sphinx came up with a trick that could work.”
“Beware of your mentors,” the Underking said. “They are not wholly loyal to me.”
“I’m not sure they’re wholly loyal to anyone,” Seth said.
“You have loyalty to give,” the Underking said. “They do not.”
“They work for you, though,” Seth said.
“Ronodin has his uses,” the Underking said. “But beware—either the Sphinx or Ronodin may try to keep the Everbloom for himself.”
“Why would they want it?” Seth asked.
“The power, Seth,” the Underking said, hunger in his tone. “The Everbloom generates a vast amount of power. It is a nearly endless source of new life and magic. If your comrades are foolish enough to cross me, do not join them. Keep the Everbloom from them and bring it to me.”
“Ronodin is my teacher,” Seth said.
“And you have all agreed to fetch the Everbloom for me,” the Underking said. “Unless you would prefer to side against me?”
The ghostly manacle burned coldly on Seth’s wrist. He winced.
“I won’t betray you,” Seth said.
“Very wise,” the Underking said. “Pledge to resist Ronodin and the Sphinx if they try to claim the Everbloom.”
“Aren’t you demanding more than the original arrangement?” Seth asked.
“This broadens our agreement,” the Underking said.
“What do I get for promising more?” Seth asked.
“Do not try my patience,” the Underking said.
Seth felt a tug to just agree. But his situation was bad enough already. He couldn’t miss opportunities to maybe improve it. “I should get something.”
“Very well,” the Und
erking said. “The Hidden Sage resides upon the island of Omari, inside a small cave near the summit of Mount Dagaro. He has power to answer your questions regarding your memories.”
“How will I get there?” Seth asked.
“You may take my clever boat on this single excursion,” the Underking said.
“The one I took with Ronodin?” Seth checked.
“The same.”
“When?” Seth asked.
“Tomorrow, I will inform Ronodin that you have been commissioned to fulfill a private task for me, and that you have leave to take my clever boat for the afternoon. The rest is up to you.”
“I just tell the boat I want to go to the island of Omari?” Seth verified.
“Yes,” the Underking said. “After your excursion, regardless of the result, I expect you to retrieve the Everbloom for me.”
“I’ll do my best,” Seth said.
“We have an accord,” the Underking said. The revenant Bardox twitched, reminding Seth that he was speaking to the Underking through the mouth of another being. The decrepit figure turned and started trudging from the room, mouth still open in the shape of a scream. “Remember our agreement,” the Underking stressed. “Stray at your peril.”
Seth cringed and drew air through his teeth as the manacle on his arm suddenly burned with coldness.
“Your debt is with me,” the Underking said, the whispery voice slithering deep into Seth as Bardox withdrew. “Your obligation is to me. Do not forget who is master of the Phantom Isle.”
Withered down to a frail, wrinkly frame and confined to a wheelchair, Uma Stormbrewer had reached an age at which time had robbed much from her physically, but her gnarled hands worked with steady precision on the cap she was knitting. The shirtless, barefoot menehune who had pushed her chair to the front of the room had ropy muscles and long, wild hair. He looked too fierce to attend an old woman, but he treated her with reverence and care.
“Kendra, Knox, may I present Uma Stormbrewer,” Tanu said to an audience that included Warren, Vanessa, Grady, Savani, and Hako. “She is a living legend among potion masters. Without her help, I would never have prepared the Elixir of Dry Depths so quickly. Her collection of ingredients was equally essential.”
“Tanu is too modest,” Uma said, knitting needles clicking. “Some vital ingredients were among the dragon parts he brought here. I could not have concocted the potion without him.”
Tanu looked pleased by the praise. “You’re very kind,” he said. “We produced enough of the elixir to allow six of us to make the journey.”
“How long does it last?” Kendra asked.
“Three days,” Tanu said. “Or until the potion is deactivated by the antidote. Uma will explain the dangers.”
“Toby,” Uma said, “fetch my coconut milk.”
The menehune raced over to a counter cluttered by bottles and jars containing any number of objects and ingredients. At three feet tall, he had to stretch to reach the glass, muscles writhing across his brown back. He snatched a straw and brought the glass to Uma, who took a sip and handed it back to him.
“His name is Toby?” Knox murmured.
“His true name is a mouthful,” Uma said. “For me, he goes by Toby.”
“Take a good look,” Tanu said. “You will seldom see a menehune interacting with humans.”
“Now for the warnings,” Uma said. “You must not imbibe any other potions while under the influence of the elixir. At best, you would end the effects of the elixir. At worst, you could eradicate all water from your body, essentially mummifying yourself. To be extra safe, you may wish to avoid food and drinks as well. The water in anything you ingest will react uncomfortably with your body.”
“We won’t be able to drink water?” Knox asked.
“Not without complications,” Uma said.
“Explain how the elixir works,” Tanu encouraged.
“Coconut milk,” Uma said.
The menehune scurried to return the glass to Uma. She sipped again.
“It is called the Elixir of Dry Depths,” Uma said. “Given the name, how do you imagine the potion works?”
“We won’t get wet in the ocean?” Knox blurted.
“We’ll be able to breathe water?” Kendra guessed.
“The effects are even more extreme than you describe,” Uma said. “You won’t sense the ocean water any more than you would sense air. You’ll breathe and move freely, even down to extreme depths.”
“That’s incredible,” Kendra said.
“Will we get salt in our eyes?” Knox asked.
“The magic will protect you from tiny particles in the water,” Uma said. “The elixir does carry inherent dangers. For example, after taking it, if you jump out of a boat, you will fall straight to the bottom of the sea.”
“Whoa,” Knox said.
“Off the coast of this island, towering drop-offs and deep trenches await,” Uma said. “While the elixir is active, great depths are as dangerous as great heights. If you do not take care, you will fall to your demise.”
“I’ve never heard of a potion like this,” Warren said.
“Until now, this elixir has not existed in the world for a long time,” Uma said. “The making of it has been lost for ages. I am honored to have helped bring this miracle back into the world.”
“Tell them how to cancel the effects,” Tanu said.
“All who use the potion must carry an antidote,” Uma said. “Make sure you don’t cancel the effects while down deep. Not only would you get crushed by the pressure, but you could get trapped too far from the surface and drown.”
“Could eating something cancel the effects of the elixir?” Knox asked.
“Probably not,” Uma said. “But your body will not recognize the water in anything you consume. It will strain your system.”
“What about the water in our bodies?” Knox asked. “We’re largely made of water.”
“The elixir will only change how you interact with outside sources of water,” Uma said. “In a pinch, the best way to introduce water to your body while under the elixir’s influence would be to suck on ice. After partaking of the elixir, you will still interact with ice like any other solid.”
“What about when the ice melts?” Kendra asked.
“If you suck ice, some water will be assimilated before it moves out of phase with you,” Uma said.
“What about our clothes?” Knox asked. “Will they get wet and all clingy?”
“This one is sharp,” Uma said. “Coconut milk.”
Toby brought her glass, and she took another long sip.
“The elixir is powerful enough to include your clothes as extensions of yourself,” Uma said. “But not items you carry or clothes you add after taking the potion. Let’s imagine you put on a life jacket after imbibing the elixir. The flotation device would not be very effective because your body will have no buoyancy. After you take the elixir, it becomes difficult to make your body float.”
“Remember, after the elixir, relative to you, a boat is essentially an aircraft,” Tanu said. “A life jacket capable of keeping you afloat would be like a jet pack, and without the ability to interact with the water, you would risk getting stranded as if in midair.”
“Will there be side effects?” Kendra asked.
“The map you found had no information about side effects,” Uma said. “This is an extraordinarily powerful potion. Elixirs of this caliber are often fine-tuned to minimize side effects. We’ll find out if that holds true in this instance by trial and error.”
“So if I encounter a shark, I’ll be able to move as if on dry land,” Warren said. “But the shark will be in water, as if suspended in the air, and move accordingly.”
“Yes,” Uma said. “Weapons or items you hold will react to the resistance of the water. But your body will feel no suc
h constraints.”
“Now the big question,” Tanu said. “Who should go? The elixir won’t work on the satyrs. We have six doses.”
“I’m coming,” Kendra said.
“Me too,” Knox said.
“Will it work on blixes?” Vanessa asked.
“My other potions do,” Tanu said. “From a physiological standpoint, narcoblixes are basically mortal.”
“Then Warren and I will join you,” Vanessa said.
“I would love to come,” Savani said. “But our present situation requires a caretaker overseeing the sanctuary.”
“I’ll be your sixth man,” Hako said.
Kendra glanced from Grady to Knox. “Is Grady an option?” she asked.
“The potion won’t work on me,” Grady said. “I’m not exactly mortal.”
Kendra wanted more of the story, but nobody offered an explanation. “How friendly are the merfolk?” she asked instead.
“They tend to distrust surface dwellers,” Savani said. “But the effects of the elixir will impress them. No mortal has walked freely in their sphere for many years. And I will provide you with an introduction—the merfolk have respect for firewalkers, and for the position of caretaker. If I explain that your mission could help restore the sanctuary, I believe they will cooperate.”
“How will you introduce us?” Knox asked.
“We burn messages onto leather to send them underwater,” Savani said. “We made a full copy of the map from the fool’s treasure using that technique so you won’t risk losing the original.”
“When should we go?” Vanessa asked.
“We worked hard through the night to prepare the elixir by this morning,” Tanu said. “I propose we eat a hearty meal, drink a lot of water, and then meet down at the beach. We still have most of the day.”
“I will come see you off,” Uma said. “It is a momentous hour.”
Knox leaned close to Kendra. “Why do I suddenly feel like a guinea pig?”
“You could stay above water,” Kendra whispered. “Nobody would blame you.”
