Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (9 page)

Vic blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth and sounds came out — the same strange, vibrating, bubbly tones as Gwen had heard from Orpheon. Then Lyssandra went to Tiaret with a second black earshell. Orpheon angrily gestured toward Gwen, insisting that she be next, but Lyssandra ignored him. Merlon guards took a black shell to Gwen and then to Sharif. Vic, who seemed excited and impatient, made strange incomprehensible gestures.

Wondering if she would hear the sound of rushing waves, Gwen took the shell, looked at it suspiciously, then touched it to her ear. All of the underwater sounds became sharp and clear. Vic yelped, “Hey, Doc, can you hear me now?” His voice came directly into her ear.

Lyssandra said to the traitorous assistant, “There, I have done as you asked. Just because my friends can hear you, however, does not mean they will cooperate.”

“Lyssandra’s right. We won’t cooperate with you!”

Orpheon gave Gwen another sneering smile. “We can be quite persuasive, but I hope you do not surrender too easily. I am looking forward to this.”

He called in a loud voice, speaking to the merlons in their own language; Gwen realized that through some magic in the communication shells, she could understand. “They can now hear and comprehend the orders they are given. They no longer have the excuse.” Orpheon stroked in the water, pointing toward the highest underwater building. “Now, take them into the hall of the merlon king. Barak is waiting for them.”

The merlon escorts led them into the many-towered structure. The fortress gate was threatening, made of the forbidding rib bones of enormous dead fish and studded with jagged teeth from giant sharks. The archways were draped with rippling algae curtains.

Colorful fish flitted everywhere, as Gwen might have expected birds or butterflies to do in a garden. Inside the great undersea palace was an open courtyard, a huge throne hall that looked out upon an undersea cliff that dropped off to regions of the sea that were deeper yet. Merlon servants used clubs to beat on large, round drums, sending rich vibrations through the water.

Orpheon spoke in a loud voice. “My Lord, I have brought the prisoners you requested.”

The answering voice came from a throne surrounded by feathery seaweed. “I asked for two — only two. But three is better than two. Five is better than three. You brought me five. That is better than the two I demanded — and what I demand, I get.”

“Yes, King Barak,” Orpheon said with a bow.

Pushing away seaweed, a lanky merlon covered with ornate shell garments stood up from the throne. Taller than the other merlons, his skin was iridescent, and the pupils of his overlarge eyes were slitted. The scalloped ruffle across his brow and down the back of his skull was larger than any other merlon’s; rust-red fins ran down his spine in a spiky frill. “Welcome to Oo’regl, capital of the Ocean Realm of Szishh. I am King Barak. I am your King. I am your master.” He came forward, stroking more than walking, to glare at them. “I am so glad to have new strangers. I get bored easily.”

His voice held a snarling hiss. “We will eat. I command a banquet. I summon food for all of us.” Then he turned. “Well? What are you waiting for?” The merlon guards darted away like startled fish in a pond.

Then from behind the tall throne emerged another figure. A human living among the merlons, like Orpheon. Straight, jet hair framed a handsome face made all the more mesmerizing by the man’s unusual eyes — one green, one blue. It was almost impossible to look away from him. Slightly taller than Vic, the man was dressed in shimmering robes made of a silken fiber that sparkled as if it were woven from spun jewels.

Beside Gwen, Sharif spat out a violent curse in a language she didn’t recognize. Straining against one of the few merlon guards that had remained in the hall, Sharif cried out in the underwater language, “You killed my brother.”

Gwen had recognized the man, too. She had seen him before in the stands at the Ocean Kingdoms Learning Center and Amusement Park. He had worn jeans back then, and his brow had been furrowed in an expression of intense anticipation. This mysterious man had somehow driven Shoru the killer whale into a frenzy, endangering Gwen’s life.

Her heart turned to ice. She also realized that this man — directly or indirectly — had murdered her parents.

Azric.

9

VIC HAD NEVER EATEN underwater before. After being surrounded by sharks, having his throat slashed, nearly being drowned, being taken to the hall of the merlon king, and coming face to face with the evil man who had killed Gwen’s parents and made his own mother flee to save his life, Vic couldn’t say he was particularly hungry.

King Barak seemed completely manic, excited by the slightest stray thought, consumed with his own plans. After watching for only a few minutes, Vic could see that Azric had corrupted the merlon king by manipulating him and playing on his emotions. Azric knew exactly how to get what he wanted, while making Barak think the desires were his own.

At the moment, the merlon king apparently believed that Vic, Gwen, and their friends were actually guests, rather than victims who had been dragged underwater against their will. Given his obviously tempestuous personality, Barak could change his mind at any moment.

Male and female merlons, servants in the undersea court, swam in and set up a long table in front of the king’s throne. Heavy dishes were set on the table and rounded stone seats placed around it. Officious merlon servants directed everyone, including the five captive apprentices and dozens of merlons, to take their places by the table. Everyone waited for the king to sit, but he floated around fidgeting, impatient with everything. Azric waited nearby looking completely in control, his loose garments drifting in the currents.

With an indignant scowl that turned his scaly face into an even more hideous mask, the king pointed to Tiaret’s teaching staff, which Orpheon still held. “That is a scepter for a leader, not a minion. Give it to me.” Reluctantly, Orpheon handed it over, and Barak shooed him away. “You may withdraw now. I have one shape-shifting human sage here. That is quite enough!” He held Tiaret’s staff, rapped its pointed end on the table, and finally took his seat.

Orpheon swam away in a huff, self-consciously flickering his body to assume the form of a merlon again, though no one was convinced.

As if sharing a secret with Vic and Gwen, Barak leaned toward them. “Azric and Orpheon are certainly ugly, but they have the redeeming quality of being able to alter their appearance to look as beautiful as merlons.” He moved his fishlike face closer to Vic’s. “Do you have that ability, or are you trapped with those hideous features?”

“This is who I am,” Vic said. “Why would I want to look like anything else?”

“Why, indeed?” Azric said, his voice drawn out and far too sweet. “A face only a mother could love — and I’m sure his mother does love him. We’re counting on that. When was the last time you saw your mother, Vic?” Azric did not call Vic by his Elantyan name. And his dialect sounded much less formal than Elantyan speech.

“I saw her right before she disappeared — to keep us all safe from you!”

“Hmm, I wonder where she went,” Azric said with a taunting smile.

King Barak sat on his throne and made an impatient gesture. Guards forced the five friends to sit. Swimming attendants reverently placed what appeared to be a potted plant in a polished stone urn next to Barak. The large urn contained a waving tentacled thing that was more than a plant but not quite an animal, either. Whiplike fronds swayed in the currents. Half of the tentacle fronds were topped with what looked like eyeballs, gazing in all directions.

The tiny colorful fish that flitted in and out of the throne room seemed to be fair game for the writhing plant-thing. Any fish that swam close enough to the creature was in danger of being lassoed by the thready appendages and dragged struggling down into the potted creature’s crunching jaws while its numerous tentacle eyes peered down, watching the meal.

“My pet obviously prefers the blue fish.” King Barak made the pronouncement without any clear basis in fact. “I decree that more blue fish shall swim into my throne chamber. And no more red ones.”

Watching the potted creature eat, Vic wondered if the merlon king sampled his pet’s food for himself. “One fish, two fish,” he muttered to Gwen. “Red fish, blue fish?” Trying to be discreet, she kicked his leg under the table.

“What is that nonsense?” Barak roared. “Do you dare challenge me?”

“N-no,” Vic stammered. “It’s from a, uh, children’s rhyme, and I —”

Azric smoothly changed the subject. “Speaking of rhymes, did you know that there are prophecies about you two? I doubt you are even aware of your potential powers. Your mothers kept them secret from you, you know. They didn’t share very much information with their own children, which is really quite a pity. But I’ve studied the prophecies. I can help. There is so much you could accomplish.”

“In other words, you want us to do something for you,” Gwen said. “What makes you think we’d ever agree to that?”

“Oh, you will,” Azric said. “In fact, there is someone who —”

“Is it not rude to carry on a private conversation when I have so many guests?” the merlon king said.

“Ah, but Majesty, this business regards an important prophecy about the two children, information that —” Azric began.

The frills on the merlon king’s head flared a brighter red, standing out like the spines on the back of an angry dragon. “The only prophecies I care for are the ones about merlons. Like the one that goes: Merlons, merlons, unite. And so forth. All other prophecies are unbearably tedious!”

“Of course they are.” Azric remained unruffled, as if experienced at placating Barak’s capricious moods. The look the evil wizard sent Vic and Gwen warned them that the discussion would continue later. He gave the king a brief bow. “Leave this to me. I can take care of everything, and you need never be bored with the details — just as when the cities of Oo’nisl and Oo’beebl were late in sending you their tribute, hmm? Did I not convince them in only a day to pay you twice as much as they owed?”

The king looked somewhat mollified. “Insolent chieftains. It was high time they showed the proper respect. Fools!”

“Exactly. And fools cannot be allowed to wield power, can they?” Azric gave him a slight smile. “Now, perhaps a banquet will cheer you up, and afterward you can choose any entertainment you like.”

“Yes. Food! I want to be served now,” Barak shouted. “Where is the food? Bring the feast!”

More guards and servants swam in, carrying individual platters loaded with round, rubbery steaks, held in place by a thick spike at the center of each dish.

“Ah, delicious!” The merlon king’s eyes lit up like lamps. “Not many have ever tasted battle kraken.”

“Battle kraken?” Gwen said, gulping.

“Certainly. We had to do something with the creature. Why not eat it?” King Barak waved his webbed hand. “The beast was quite a nuisance.”

“Is this the same battle kraken that attacked the Elantyan harbor?” Tiaret scowled down at the meat on her plate. Sharif poked at it with a pearly carved-shell utensil, but he didn’t take a bite.

“The same one,” Barak said. He stroked a frond of the plant creature in the urn beside him, then devoured a large chunk of kraken steak. “Tentacled things are never as intelligent as you expect them to be.”

“Huh. You’d think that the task of manipulating all those appendages would require a certain amount of brainpower,” Vic said.

Azric drifted forward. “Sadly, the battle kraken’s attack against Elantya turned out to be less effective than we had hoped, and the creature was injured.”

“Yup. In fact, I had a front-row seat. Sage Polup and I shot Grogyptian Fire into its face from a cannon,” Vic said. “Lyssandra was there, too.”

“You killed my battle kraken?” King Barak roared.

Gwen pushed away her plate and fisted her hands in her lap. “We defended our island. What did you expect us to do?”

“I expected you to be defeated. How very irritating,” Barak said. “The injured battle kraken went mad with the pain. It came thrashing back here to Oo’regl, the capital itself, and caused enormous damage, simply enormous! That beast destroyed many of our buildings, killed merlon soldiers who were trying to defend our city. They were very useful soldiers, too. I make another decree: No more soldiers shall be killed by a kraken. Write that down!”

“Sheesh, I feel so guilty about all the trouble we put you through,” Vic said with even heavier irony. “Poor old Squidzilla.”

The king took another bite, which seemed very satisfying to him. “No matter. We succeeded in killing the creature and making this lovely feast.” He stabbed another chunk of the meat. “And we do have enough slaves to rebuild the city. So, not such a nuisance after all.”

“I’m afraid our captives have little appetite, King Barak,” Azric pointed out, smiling. “Children get queasy about the strangest things.”

“You mean like getting kidnapped?” Gwen muttered to Vic.

King Barak finished his meal and frowned at Sharif, who had not even tasted his kraken steak. Abruptly, the king reached over, grabbed Sharif’s plate, and tossed the hunk of squid to his potted plant-creature. The tentacles grabbed the meat and stuffed it down into its crunching jaws. Then the king snatched Lyssandra’s meal and took it for his own, eating even more of the grayish meat. “My two best generals were riding the battle kraken,” he grumbled. “They were killed in that attack, too.”