Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (12 page)

As Sharif and his friends watched, the slaves and the turtles began to scramble back from the edge of the lavaja cracks in alarm. The workers moved as far as their ankle tethers allowed them. A vibration jolted through the water, the main fissures split farther, and, like a crack shooting through glass, a new jagged line widened the burgeoning lavaja outlet.

“You cannot hope to control such power,” Lyssandra said. “Do the merlons not have magic to seal the fissures? If you do not stop the damage, you put the whole world in jeopardy.”

The merlon guards laughed, and Orpheon sneered. “Stop it? Why, we encourage it! Each crack brings forth the freshest, most potent lavaja, crude and undiluted. That is what we tap.”

One merlon slave writhed as a ribbon of scalding lavaja plumed too close. His scales flaked off in a long line of rippling blisters. He made a strange gargling sound of pain. Guards dragged him away, though they didn’t seem concerned about rushing to get him medical attention.

Orpheon continued, “The most potent lavaja is out in the heart of the devastated regions, where the sea floor is constantly churned. Too dangerous to harvest there, unfortunately. We’ve lost dozens of workers already — and always need more . . . volunteers — which is why I brought you out here. It will be my special pleasure to make the spoiled prince do work befitting his true station in life!”

Sharif struggled to keep his anger in check. “I am a prince because my father is a great sultan. He was powerful enough to banish Azric, once we discovered his evil.”

“Ah, but not before Azric killed your poor brother. Your plan to catch the dark sage at his wrongdoing must have been complicated indeed!”

“You need not remind me that Azric must still pay for his crime.”

“Just as you and your friends will pay for the crime of being land dwellers in Szishh.”

“You will attempt to coerce us into extracting this lavaja for you,” Tiaret said. She didn’t have to add that she meant to resist in every way possible.

Lyssandra seemed most distressed. “But what purpose does it serve?”

“I will show you that next,” Orpheon said. “I’m sure you will find your work much more rewarding once you are aware of how it will contribute to our noble goal.” He turned and stroked away. The sharks carried the three friends and the contingent of merlon guards after him. “Tomorrow you will become intimately familiar with the lavaja cracks.”

As the three companions followed Orpheon, Sharif realized that being towed by sharks, suspended above the ocean floor, reminded him of flying on his carpet. That gave him an idea for escaping.

With the summoning spell from the Pentumvirate, he could still call his flying carpet to him. Sharif had not attempted it since being dragged under the sea. But was there any reason the carpet could not plunge into the ocean and fly underwater? With the magic carpet, Sharif and his friends might be able to streak away faster than the merlons could swim. Wasting no time, he spoke the words to activate the rune woven into his carpet.

Orpheon, the merlons, and the sharks continued swimming with the captives to their next destination. Sharif’s heart sank as minute after minute passed. Somehow he’d expected the carpet to appear instantly, although even at its best speed, the magic rug could not have come all the way from Elantya yet. He had no idea how long it would take. Sharif kept glancing nervously up toward the ripple of reflected sunlight on the surface, but he saw no sign of the flying carpet. Eventually he began to give up hope that the summoning spell would work. Had the water blocked the spell somehow? Or what if the carpet could not move under water after all? He was comforted, at least, that Piri was still with him.

When Orpheon led them to the merlon equivalent of a research laboratory, Lyssandra cried out immediately, her words echoing in the black communication shells. “The anemonites!”

In a cleared area of a knobby coral reef, bounded by a thick and forbidding doolya forest, fifty of the brainlike jellyfish creatures were held captive. “This is where they use science and magic to convert the lavaja into powerful weapons against Elantya.” Orpheon scowled. “At least they pretend to work. Progress, so far, has been disappointing.”

Two marked sharks and three electric eels circled the area ominously, and a pair of merlon guards watched over the anemonites with sharp tridents and scalloped swords. “The guards are not really necessary, except for intimidation purposes,” Orpheon added. “Since we clipped the frills of those anemonites, they could not swim far even if they tried to escape.”

“Such cruelty.” Anger bubbled in Tiaret’s voice. “No wonder the anemonites do not wish to help you.”

“And yet they do help. They are our brain trust, and with their designs, we will use lavaja to sink Elantya — a festering sore in this beautiful ocean.” The merlon guards grumbled in agreement with Orpheon’s grand words. “They have already produced many small, simple bombs, but with that new installation” — he indicated a strange construction assembled from shipwreck components and raw undersea materials —“they will intensify the reaction enough to rip through the foundations of the island itself.” The half-completed tower construction, with stiltlike legs and a large reservoir on the top, would apparently store the molten lavaja and dispense it down troughs.

“We already know the anemonites are geniuses. You remember, of course, how Sage Polup developed his Grogyptian fire cannon,” Lyssandra said innocently. “That is what drove away the battle kraken and defeated the first merlon attack.” It was just the right jab for her to use. The aquatic warriors looked very annoyed with her.

“That was a fluke,” Orpheon said.

“Not a fluke,” Sharif said, rubbing it in. “Sage Polup has helped Elantya a great deal — as you well know.”

Orpheon turned the tables on them. “Then imagine — just imagine — if one anemonite brain can produce such wonders for Elantya, how much more fifty geniuses can aid the merlon empire. These anemonites will provide us with all the weapons we need.”

“Why do they help you?” Lyssandra said.

“Because they are tortured, of course,” Tiaret said. Sharif surreptitiously looked around for his flying carpet, but still saw nothing.

“Yes, we do offer some slight encouragement. There used to be a great many more than fifty anemonites. It’s a pity, but we’ve had to use scores of them as examples.” Orpheon didn’t need to explain further.

Closely watched by guards, two of the anemonites rode large armored kraegas. The thick-shelled crustacean steeds had long bodies with six pairs of jointed legs beneath strong swimmerets, and a broad flippered tail. By temporarily retracting their legs, the lobsterlike kraegas could propel themselves forward in low, powerful leaps along the ocean floor, while anemonites rode on their backs.

With their frills clipped, anemonites could only putter from place to place over the sand and mud, but when mounted on kraegas, they moved with much greater agility. The jellyfish-brains could use the kraegas’ antennae as writing instruments, guiding them with their pseudopods to scribe equations, spell fragments, and patterns of power into the thick coating of mud scraped across flat stones.

Over by the edge of the waving doolya forest, the apprentices spotted more of the kraegas being kept behind bars. Sharif remembered that Sage Polup had talked about the symbiotic relationship between anemonites and their kraega steeds. Anemonites helped to cultivate and capture food for the kraegas, while the lobsterlike creatures made the jellyfish-brains much more mobile.

“Why do you keep the rest of them caged?” Lyssandra asked. “Couldn’t the anemonites do more work if you allowed them more kraegas to move about?”

Orpheon said, “Any more, and they might try to escape. We value the anemonites for their intelligence, not for their mobility. They can think right where they are.”

“In that case, it is a tactical error to keep so many kraegas so close to the anemonites,” Tiaret observed.

The traitor answered with a cold smile. “I prefer to leave the kraegas in full view of our anemonite scientists — as a constant reminder of what they have lost and how much more we can take from them if they do not cooperate.”

“Your cruelty will be your undoing, Orpheon,” Sharif said. “As my people say: Those who feast on cruelty will someday choke on it.”

Suddenly alert, the guardian sharks whirled and darted away. Sharif stroked with his hands to turn around and saw one of the horned sea serpents swimming toward them through the seaweed forest that fringed the reef. The serpent carried two merlon passengers: the merlon king and the new general, Blackfrill. King Barak looked overwrought, while the dark-finned general simply seemed threatening.

The sea serpent spooked the anemonites, who scuttled and scattered, ruining much of their work, smearing scrawled spells and equations. Their panic seemed exaggerated, and Sharif wondered if the jellyfish-brains were using the situation as an excuse to stall their progress.

Blackfrill jabbed the serpent with Tiaret’s teaching staff, bringing it to a halt. Seeing the merlon general wield her special weapon, Tiaret glared at him. King Barak remained mounted high on the creature’s back, holding the reins. He lorded it over the captive anemonites, while Blackfrill dismounted and swam down to stand next to Orpheon.

“Listen to me so that you may hear my disappointment,” said King Barak, his voice high-pitched with fury. “You anemonites have a job to do. I gave you my command when we first captured you. And though we have given you all the spell scrolls you need and unlimited lavaja as raw material, you have achieved far less than I expect of you. If you really are the greatest minds, you should want to show off your genius! Up in Elantya, one traitorous escaped anemonite has done great things for our enemies. So I know that the rest of you can do better.”

The sea serpent thrashed, and the merlon king held on, glowering at the cowed jellyfish creatures. Even the kraegas behind their cage bars seemed frightened.

“I asked myself the reason for these delays. Why so many accidents? Why so many mistakes? Finally, the obvious answer occurred to me: You are stalling intentionally! Anemonites are making mistakes to hinder our war effort. For what reason do you not wish the merlons to retake this world? Maybe you are not as intelligent as you claim.”

Through the black seashell in his ear Sharif heard one of the anemonites squeak, “That is not true, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, but it is!” The merlon king jerked his head from side to side. “I commanded Azric to study your many mistakes. He is very intelligent, too. He found where values were intentionally changed, words from spell scrolls were transcribed incorrectly, and designs were drawn with careful errors. Were these simple mistakes? No. These were deliberate sabotage!” Barak was livid. “In fact, can it be called a mistake if it was done on purpose? I wish there were a better word.” He pondered, distracted, for a long moment, then whirled back to the cowering jellyfish-brains.

“You must be punished, and you must work harder. I decree it! Time grows short. Our first tests for the destruction of Elantya have begun, and some of the bombs are already planted, but we need you to finish your work.” He pointed to the half-built lavaja tower structure. “Now! Therefore, I have assigned one of my new generals to be your slave master and overseer. I give him my permission to do anything he believes necessary, so long as he produces results.”

Blackfrill drifted forward, holding his weapons, as the merlon king continued, “Orpheon, you will assist him. Azric thinks you are worth something, so prove it! Get me results. I do not care what you do to these creatures in order to achieve my goals.”

In a huff, the merlon king wheeled the sea serpent about and darted away, leaving a frothy wake behind him. Next to the captive anemonites, Blackfrill and Orpheon looked at each other, then smiled at the new opportunity they had just been given.

13

THE OCEAN CURRENTS SEEMED to grow cold all of a sudden. Sharif watched the merlon general, puffed with new authority, swim in among the anemonite researchers like a bully, gripping Tiaret’s unbreakable teaching staff like a club.

The two scientists riding kraega steeds were so shaken and cowed by King Barak’s tirade that they could not control the precise scribing of the crustaceans’ antennae. Their spells and equations became all scrambled on their mud-streaked writing tablet. Leaving the three companions by the guards, Orpheon swam beside Blackfrill, eager to see what his new partner intended to do.

Tiaret was a simmering mass of anger. “It is easy to intimidate a small floating creature. You should threaten someone who can stand against you.” She clenched her fists, and Sharif could tell she wanted to grab her teaching staff and fight Blackfrill. Despite her brashness, though, it was obvious the merlon general would best her in underwater combat.

In spite of their clipped frills, the anemonites scurried to get out of the way of their intimidating new slave master. The two riding kraegas quickly scribbled a complicated spell design with the creatures’ antennae to demonstrate their earnestness.

“We will work harder,” cried one anemonite. “Together we will accomplish what the merlon king demands.” The other jellyfish-brains all chimed in.

“You have said that before,” Orpheon said. “I am certain Azric could complete much of your work himself, but he has other priorities. We require your best efforts — without any more mistakes.”