The Tree of Water
Amariel’s hand ripped out of his.
Before he could stop her, the merrow bolted from his side and swam past the startled boys, away from the beast.
“This way,” her thrum called out in terror. “Follow me.”
The shark obeyed.
“Amariel, no!” Ven screamed. His mouth opened, and the sea rushed in, choking him. The great white’s tail grazed him as it bore down on the merrow, its sandpaper skin slapping him across the face, leaving it raw and bleeding.
The three boys could only watch, helpless, as the merrow tried to outswim the shark.
It was clear to each of them that she would not be able to for long.
Coreon raised his crossbow and took aim at the great white. His hands were shaking violently. Char grabbed his elbow, trying to steady him.
“Don’t hit her, whatever you do.”
Coreon lowered his weapon.
“I can’t see her,” he said sadly.
Just as the chase reached the center point of the spine, the ocean floor began to rumble again.
Only much more violently this time.
Before their eyes, what had looked a moment before like the middle of the spine rose up out of the sand and untwisted itself. As it did, its color changed from the bone white of the whale’s skeleton to a more orange hue. Great tentacles flexed and snapped out into the water, longer than two boys together.
A giant bulbous head rose from the ocean floor, opening to show a huge, parrot-like beak.
The arms of the enormous octopus lashed out like whips as the merrow swam past. It seized the great white and wrapped around it quickly, stopping it in its path, spinning it upside down.
“Blimey!” Char’s thrum shouted. “I knew that little one couldn’a carried all that stuff!”
“Amariel!” Ven screamed again.
“Move! Move!” Coreon shouted, pushing them both out of the way of the lashing tentacles.
The boys swam as fast as they could away from the battle that was now raging on the ocean floor. The shark, caught unaware, was rolling and pitching in the grip of the giant octopus, which had wrapped at least four of its arms around the great fish’s body.
The remainder of its tentacles were slashing through the water inside the cage of bones, long enough to reach any of them.
“We’ve got to get out of the cage,” Coreon said. “Come on—swim for it.”
“I’m not leaving her,” Ven said, his eyes scanning the green water for any sign of the merrow. “You go.”
A moment later, two screams ripped through their brains.
The first was low and raw, the sound of a sea creature battling for its life.
The second was high and piercing.
They knew the thrum instantly.
“It’s got me!” Amariel’s thoughts pierced the water, which was now cloudy with storms of sand from the ocean floor. “Ven, it’s got me!”
Ven’s hand went to his pocket. He patted the front of his shirt, fumbling for the button, then realized that the jack-rule’s small knife would do nothing against either of the creatures of the Deep.
“Hang on!” he thought back. “We’re coming.”
He tried not to look as the octopus pulled the blue-gray body into its gaping maw, then swallowed it whole.
The parrot-like beak snapped shut.
“It’s been here all along.” Char’s thoughts were so terrified that feeling them made Ven’s head and skin hurt. “We were leaning up against it, for cripe’s sake!”
Its breakfast consumed, the immense beast spread its arms through the water of the cage. The muscles of its tentacles rippled as it leisurely waved them around in the drift.
There was no sign of the merrow.
“Where is she?” Ven thought desperately.
“I don’t see her.” Char shielded his eyes from the sand that now floated in the drift.
Coreon was counting the arms.
“Six—I think I see seven.”
“Come on,” Ven said, swimming at the edge of the cage. “We’ve got to find her.”
“Hold still a minute.” Amariel’s thrum washed over their ears. It felt edgy, but not as terrified as it had been a few moments before.
“Where are you?” Ven demanded.
The gigantic orange octopus raised its eighth arm slowly over its head.
The merrow was wrapped it its coils. The fluke of her beautiful tail stuck out beneath the suckers.
“Don’t panic,” she said as the boys stared at her. “She likes me.”
“She?”
“Yes, she. Octopi are very intelligent—obviously. And they apparently like merrows. She saved me from the shark—she clearly wasn’t all that hungry, or none of you would be here.”
“Did—you know she was here all along?” Ven asked. He watched as the octopus turned Amariel upside down and swirled her back and forth in the drift.
“Of course not. Octopi are masters of disguise. Their camouflage is some of the best in the ocean. Do you think I would be leaning on her if I knew she was here?”
“Is she going to turn you loose, do you suppose?” Coreon’s undersea voice sounded both relieved and cross. “I’d like to get out of this place and on toward the Festival.”
The merrow shrugged, then looked questioningly at the giant octopus. The creature seemed to sigh, its massive tentacles drooping slightly. Then, amid a great swirl of sand, it dragged the rest of its enormous body out of the whale spine and scuttled across the ocean floor toward the skull.
“Where is it taking her now?” Char whispered to Ven.
“It looks like the octopus wants to show her its garden,” Ven said.
“You obviously—oof!—do not realize—oof!—what an—honor that is—oof!” the merrow puffed from within the beast’s coiled arm as it bounced her along. “Human treasure is very valuable under the—oof!—sea. Why do you think my whole school turned out when we heard your ship was sinking, Ven?”
“I thought it was for the rum,” Ven admitted. “And the apples and parsnips floating in the wreckage.”
“See? Human—oof!—things. If I hadn’t seen the albatross circling over you, that’s what I would have been—oof!—going after, too.”
The octopus reached over with a tentacle and brushed the sand from the shiny objects on the ocean floor. It slid the end of its arm through something and dragged it up out of the sand, then placed it in the merrow’s hands.
Amariel held the gift aloft in the drift. It was a ring, with a silver band and set with a stone that looked like an enormous diamond. It seemed clear as it passed through the drift, but when the light from the surface above hit it, the stone appeared white and solid.
“A human ring—how pretty!” the merrow said to the beast. “For me? Really?”
The enormous eyes blinked. Ven could feel its thrum answer.
“Well, thank you,” said Amariel.
“Why is she givin’ you that?” Char demanded. “She doesn’t want to marry you or somethin’ creepy like that, does she? That’s what humans use rings like that for.”
“Of course not. I told you, Chum, she just likes me.”
“Why?”
“She has good taste,” said Amariel. She patted the enormous tentacle on the side without the suckers.
“Maybe she just thinks you taste good,” suggested Coreon.
Char was adjusting his pack. He squinted. “Ven—are you bleeding?”
Ven reached up to his stinging forehead. The skin was sore to the touch, raw.
“The shark grazed me—it’s nothing.” He looked up at the watery ceiling above the Sea Desert. “The day is moving on, and so should we if we’re to get to the Summer Festival.” He turned to the merrow, who had tied the human ring into the locks of her hair and was showing it to the admiring octopus. “Are you ready, Amariel?”
“Yes.”
“Is she going to let you go?” Char asked nervously.
Amariel nodded.
“Then let
’s be on our way,” said Coreon.
“Thank you for the ring,” said the merrow as the great orange creature slowly turned her loose and patted her head with an enormous tentacle. The suckers made a whispering sound as they passed through her hair.
The boys thought their goodbyes, then followed Amariel out of the cage of bones and into the shadowy light of the seemingly endless desert beyond.
The wound on Ven’s forehead had all but stopped hurting. It felt so much better, in fact, that he didn’t notice the three small drops of blood that he left hanging in the drift behind him.
But not long afterward, something else did.
23
In Coral Cathedrals
* * *
For a long time after we left the octopus’s garden, our thrum was silent. It’s not that I had stopped thinking. Actually, my thoughts were racing faster than ever. But the heaviness of the water, the emptiness of the desert, and the endless blue-green of the deepening ocean seemed to swallow all the sound in the world.
Finally, as noon passed, and the sea was growing deeper, we saw something up ahead in the distance. At first I thought it was seaweed.
But then I realized it wasn’t moving in the drift.
* * *
“Whoa.”
Char’s thrum broke through the heavy silence. The three other children flinched.
“What?” Coreon demanded
Ven squinted. Ahead he could see thin, dark lines in the water, reaching from the seabed toward the light above, but little more.
“What you suppose that is?” he asked Amariel.
The merrow smiled. “I don’t have to suppose,” she said briskly. “I know what it is. It’s nothing dangerous. In fact, it’s very beautiful. Come. I’ll show you.” She swam away with a great sweep of her tail.
“Hope she’s right about the ‘not dangerous’ part,” Char murmured as they struggled to keep up with her. “It’ll be nice to meet something in the Sea Desert that isn’t.”
It took longer than Ven expected to get to a place where they could make out the lines more clearly. Everything in the sea was farther away than it looked, he realized.
And bigger.
Eventually the lines began to take form. As they approached, Ven could see that they were wispy rocks, or what looked like rocks, in soft, glowing colors of white and blue, pink and purple. They stretched from the seafloor up toward the surface, forming beautiful arched patterns that were dotted with nooks and holes. At the edge of his vision he could see them all around, so many that they turned this part of the ocean rosy in the afternoon sunshadow.
What is this? he wondered
“Cathedral coral,” Amariel’s thrum replied. “A cousin of the reef coral you met before, where Coreon lives. Even though it seems fragile, it’s actually much stronger because it lives where the water is so heavy. It’s also very old—the pillars near the bottom have been dead for a long time. It’s alive closer to the top, and sharper.”
“It’s a lot like some of the great buildings in the upworld,” said Ven as they passed under an intricate archway. “The spires of the castle Elysian aren’t as tall and beautiful as this!”
The merrow rolled her eyes. “Of course not. They’re on land. How many times do I have to tell you? Everything is better and more beautiful under the sea.”
Char coughed but said nothing.
“Is it singing?” Ven asked. Once they were inside the field of cathedral-coral spires, he could feel a vibration in his skin that was musical and pleasant, much like the song of the Underwater Forest.
“Yes,” said Amariel. “Don’t get too enchanted, though. The music masks other thrum around it. Its sound is very soothing to fish and krill. They love to hang around cathedral coral. And you know what that means.”
“Predators,” Coreon said.
“I don’t see many fish,” said Char.
The merrow looked behind her. “You’re right. That’s not a good sign.”
Ven closed his eyes and concentrated.
Past the pleasant tickle of the coral’s vibration on his skin he could feel something sharper, something higher. The shark in the cage of bones had the same kind of thrum, a clean, harsh sound that made his blood run cold.
The sound of hunting.
He could feel the thrum coming from different places.
All following them.
And, atop it all, there was another sound he recognized.
That ancient, familiar thrum he had been hearing since entering the sea.
Only much, much louder.
And this time, it was coming closer.
Quickly.
“We’re in trouble,” he said to the others. He could see in their eyes that it was not necessary to tell them.
Out of the green darkness behind them three shadows appeared, swimming rapidly. They had the unmistakable movement of sharks, with the same thrum as the great white in the cage of bones.
But they were much bigger.
“Slowly.” Amariel’s thrum was urgent. “Careful, Chum. Your heart’s pounding like a drum. If I can feel it, you can bet they can.”
“Take cover,” Coreon advised. “There are some ship bones ahead. Beyond the cathedrals, but I don’t think we’d make it in time. Press up against the coral, but not too hard. It can cut you, and the last thing we need is blood in the water. It’ll lead them right to us.”
Ven touched his forehead. Oh, man, he thought. It’s me. I brought them here, like a beacon on a lighthouse.
Amariel grabbed his hand. With two strong, smooth sweeps of her tail they were up against a trio of tooth-like stalagmites. Char and Coreon took cover in another clump nearby.
The wispy coral arms reached above them, looking helpless, as if pleading to the sky for help.
The afternoon sun cast shadows from above as the sharks swam overhead. Ven closed his eyes, trying to blot out their hunting thrum as they circled above the tips of the cathedral coral.
But he couldn’t.
Louder and louder above the high, harsh thrum of the circling sharks, the older drumbeat was drawing closer as well.
Suddenly, the three great whites split and swam off into the darkness.
Where are they going? he thought.
“Shhhh,” Amariel whispered. Ven could tell by the size of her eyes that she was terrified.
He pressed himself up against the ghostly coral structure, its glowing formations hard as rock, though Ven knew it was actually a mass of the shells of sea creatures, some of them still living. He tried not to shudder as something wiggled against his back.
Above them, the stalagmites tapered up toward the surface, growing lacey and fragile as they reached above into the patchy darkness toward the hazy green light. The higher up they grew, the thinner and wispier their purple and white arms became. They reminded Ven of the frail threads of spun sugar that he saw from time to time in the Magical Confectionery in town, where the most delicious and beautiful candies and baked goods were made.
Just then, the light disappeared as an enormous black shadow passed overhead, blotting it out.
The thrum he had been hearing from the moment they came into the sea echoed in his ears, chilling his heart. He finally recognized the vibration.
Megalodon.
He had seen the giant shark once before, while aboard Oliver Snodgrass’s ship, the Serelinda. The lookout in the crow’s nest had shouted the beast’s name, and suddenly every sailor fell silent and stood utterly still.
Their eyes looked exactly as Amariel’s did now.
The last time he had seen the beast, it was nothing more than a giant fin the size of the mainsail of the Serelinda and a shadow that passed beneath the hull. Now that he was in the water, feeling the pressure of its wake as it swam above him, it felt as is the moon itself had fallen out of the sky and was going to crush them into the sandy ocean floor.
He could feel Amariel’s hand slip into his own, the webbed fingers trembling. He remembered her voice, cle
ar from being in the air, just before they had submerged.
And, for goodness’ sake, if we come upon a shark, hold still and don’t make any noise or movement until I discover if it’s one of my friends or not. They can tell where you are by your movements. And your smell, of course, especially if you’re bleeding. My friends might eat you by mistake if you’re bleeding—or even me. Blood in the water kind of cancels out any notion of politeness or friendship.
I don’t suppose Megalodon is a friend of yours, Char had joked.
Amariel’s voice in reply was as cold as Ven had ever heard it.
Megalodon has no friends. Even the pilot fish isn’t his friend.
And now it was tracking his blood.
Ven took slower breaths, trying to keep his heart from beating too loudly. He looked as far to the right as he could by just moving his eyes, but he couldn’t see Char. He could feel him, however, because the spidery fronds of the cathedral coral were shaking violently just like Char did whenever he was really frightened. He must be leaning against it, Ven thought. Good, then at least he’s still behind me.
He could not see or feel Coreon at all.
Keep going, please keep going, he thought. We’re so small—a shark that eats ships has no interest in us. If we just stay still, like the sailors did on the Serelinda, it should pass us right by, looking for bigger prey.
After what seemed like forever, the hazy light appeared above them again. Ven looked up and could see the very end of the enormous tail fin, waving back and forth as the beast moved beyond the dead reef, heading out into the darkness of the depths once more.
He squeezed Amariel’s hand in relief.
“Thank goo’ness he’s gone,” he heard Char mutter behind him.
“No joke,” Ven agreed. He smiled at the merrow, only to lose that smile an instant later when he caught the look on her face.
She was staring behind him, her eyes even wider.
He glanced over his shoulder.
At the edge of the light, he could see the giant shadow turning.
“The pilot fish,” Amariel whispered. “It’s seen us.”
24
Feeding Frenzy