The Tree of Water

  She wrenched her arm loose from Ven’s grasp and swam quickly toward the center of the racetrack, where the male merrows were thrumming to their mounts. The hippocampi were beginning to settle down, allowing the merrows to put their bridles on.

  “Maybe she won’t get one,” Char suggested to Ven, whose stomach was turning over in worry. “Look at all the would-be riders that didn’t get an answer.”

  A loud roar of thrum laughter from the crowd washed over them. The sea creatures had noticed Amariel, the only female merrow, and the only youngling to come forward, and apparently they found her highly amusing. Even the Epona queen was laughing uproariously. Only the Sea King appeared disturbed by her entrance.

  “What are you doing, little one?” he said. His thrum was deep and commanding, and it quieted the vibrations of the laughter into silence.

  Amariel bowed awkwardly.

  “I’d like to try and call a hippocampus, Your Majesty,” she answered.

  The Sea King cast a glance at the hippocampus reeve, who shook his head.

  “I believe it to be unwise,” he said. His eyes took in the sight of Amariel’s shoulders sagging in disappointment. Ven was fairly certain he saw them fill with sympathy. “But the rules do not specify an age limit, do they?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” the hippocampus reeve began, “but—”

  “Let her call, then,” said the Sea King. “If, like some of these other merrows, she gets no answer, it wasn’t meant to be. But if she does, well, then, I will have to assume that it is her destiny to ride in the race.”

  Ven thought he saw the king’s eye wink, even from very far away.

  Amariel was quivering with excitement.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Well, get on with it, mer-child,” the Sea King said gruffly.

  * * *

  I wasn’t sure what to hope would happen.

  I know Amariel has wanted this most of her life. To ride a hippocampus in the Grand Derby was a dream she told me about the first time we met, while I was lying on a piece of floating driftwood in the middle of the sea, and she was trying to save me from drowning. She said that most female merrows had a great desire to explore the human world, and were willing to make terrible sacrifices to do so, but she was not. Her dream was of the Grand Trophy.

  It’s one of the things I like best about her.

  I know this adventure is not at all what she had planned when she asked me to come explore the depths with her. Instead of going where she might want to have gone, we have run afoul of sea Lirin, taken on a mission with Coreon rather than just getting to show me the places she thought were most special about her world.

  So I hope she gets a chance to ride a hippocampus.

  But I am also afraid for her.

  * * *

  Amariel shook her arms to loosen them up.

  Another round of laughter-thrum rippled through the crown.

  Amariel ignored the laughter and put her hands to her mouth.

  At first, no real thrum came out. The chuckling grew louder.

  Then, after a moment, it died away, leaving a pure sound, clear and sweet, like the song she had sung to the coral and the elaroses.

  Her call echoed throughout the Festival grounds, causing blossoms to erupt on some of the towering plant flags that were floating in the drift. Amariel slowly turned in a circle, sending her call out in every possible direction.

  Then, after she had made a full circle, she stopped.

  The assembly, including the Sea Queen and King, watched in silence.

  Nothing happened.

  Amariel looked around intently.

  The Sea King and Queen exchanged a glance. Then the king looked to the hippocampus reeve, who shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, mer-child,” the king said finally. “But you did your best. Perhaps at the next Festival, you can try again.”

  Amariel look around again, then sighed.

  “All right, then, clear the track,” the hippocampus reeve said briskly. “Riders, take your mounts to the starting line.” He gestured at a row of starfish, which scurried onto the track and formed a colorful marker in the sand.

  “Be on your way, mer-child,” the king said to Amariel, who was still looking desperately into the drift for a wild hippocampus. Amariel straightened her shoulders and began swimming back toward her friends amid the raucous laughter of the crowd.

  The look on her face was the saddest Ven had ever seen in his life.

  What do I say to her? he thought. Maybe it’s best not to say anything at all.

  The chuckling thrum of the crowd changed suddenly. It sounded like a gasp, followed by even louder laughter. Ven turned and looked in the direction it was coming from.

  A hippocampus was making its way slowly toward the track from the north. He was taking his time, sauntering in the drift. The beast was somewhat smaller than the other wild hippocampi that had answered the call, but vastly fatter. He was blue-green in color, puffing as he swam, and heading toward Amariel, who clearly had no idea he was there.

  Char pointed over her head as she approached her friends on the sidelines.

  “Look behind you.”

  The merrow’s brows drew together. Then she turned around and went stiff in shock.

  The crowd laughed again.

  Amariel glanced over her shoulder at Ven, who smiled at her. She smiled in return, the toothy grin she usually tried to keep hidden.

  Then she straightened her red pearl cap, dashed to the hippocampus, and threw her arms around his neck.

  At the throne platform, the Sea Queen was laughing along with the crowd, but the king wore a serious expression. He turned to the hippocampus reeve and gestured. Even across the Festival grounds, Ven knew he was telling the reeve to allow the late entry into the race.

  “Better get to the starting line,” he advised the merrow, who was happily hugging the hippocampus. “You don’t want the race to begin without you.”

  “Right.” Amariel gave the giant sea horse one last pat, then swung herself up onto his back.

  The pudgy creature bobbed almost to the seafloor.

  The Festival ground exploded with merriment.

  Amariel patted the blue-green beast, then turned him gently toward the starting line. The hippocampus curled his spiral tail and chugged off with great effort, like an old, overloaded pony in the upworld.

  “Well, at least she probably won’t get thrown,” said Coreon.

  “But she may get trampled,” said Char.

  “Or she may win. You never know. If she does, that may be our chance to talk to the Sea King.” Ven looked anxiously over at the line of wild hippocampi, which, while more calm, were still bucking and biting at each other and their riders. “As my father used to say, let’s just keep a good thought, shall we?”

  Char and Coreon nodded, then looked at each other doubtfully.

  A blast of the shell-horn shattered the thrum of the audience. A clear, commanding voice echoed through the Deep.

  “And they’re off!”

  27

  The Second-to-the-Last Race

  The floating flags dropped on both sides of the throne platform.

  The hippocampi reared and bucked, a few of them spinning around in circles, to the loud amusement of the crowd.

  The riders kicked and urged the beasts forward, all except for Amariel, who patted the fat blue-green hippocampus and gave him a nudge.

  Then, after a moment of chaos, the hippocampi started down the track.

  Immediately a pair of orange and red steeds, including the one with the sunflower mane, dashed into the lead, creating a huge wake behind them. The others followed in hot pursuit, dashing down the track, snapping at each other.

  Except for the blue-green one, who puffed slowly behind them.

  A yellow and gray sea mare, ridden by the merrow with the pig-like snout, suddenly veered away from the pack toward the crowd. She stopped in the middle of the track in an outside lane in front
of a small patch of kelp. She made a quick bob for the seaweed, throwing her rider off. The pig-nosed merrow flipped twice in the drift and floated down to the ocean floor on his back, while the hippocampus calmly munched away.

  The remainder of the hippocampi rounded the first turn, all except Amariel’s, who was lagging almost half a length behind them. Ven could see the merrow urging her steed to speed up, but he just kept getting slower and slower until finally he stopped in the middle of the racetrack.

  Then relieved himself on the ocean floor.

  The crowd roared with laughter.

  “Come on, ya fat thing,” Char muttered. “You know, Amariel and I don’t always get along the best, but she is my friend. I hate to hear them laughing at her.”

  “Amariel doesn’t care what the crowd thinks,” Ven said, though he wasn’t certain he was right. The merrow’s face was set in a determined expression. She kept urging the plodding hippocampus along, even though the rest of the pack was halfway around the track ahead of her. “We shouldn’t feel sorry for her, or tease her. We’ll just cheer for her while she’s riding and support her when she’s done.”

  “Right.” Char closed his eyes and concentrated on his thrum. “Come on, Amariel! Smoke ’em!”

  “Yeah!” Coreon shouted. “Go! Go! Go!”

  The boys continued cheering even as the pathetic pack of merrows and sea horses came around the home turn. Amariel still had not made it halfway around the track as the red hippocampus streaked across the finish line, followed by the rest. The winning rider did a flip in the sea, letting loose a stream of bubbles from his backside as he did.

  The crowd broke into cheers and hooting laughter.

  “Aw, man.” Char put his hands on his head.

  Ven said nothing. He was watching Amariel.

  The chubby blue-green horse had bobbed its way to the halfway point of the racetrack in front of the throne stand and was slowing down more at each bob. Finally it plodded to a halt.

  The Sea King and Queen stared down at Amariel.

  The merrow dismounted clumsily, woozy from her bumpy ride. She bowed deeply.

  “Your Majesty,” she said to the queen, “may I have the honor of presenting you with a gift—a human gift?”

  The Epona had been staring at her. Her face lit up and she smiled broadly.

  “A human gift?” Her thrum was excited and childlike.

  “Yes.” The merrow removed the ring the octopus had given her from her hair and looked at it for a moment. “The jewel inside it is very much like your hair, Your Majesty—both white and clear at the same time, depending on the light.”

  As she spoke, the sunwater around the throne stand dimmed a little. Ven could see the clouds above the surface growing thicker, as if it were getting ready to rain.

  “Lemme see! Lemme see!” the queen squealed.

  The Sea King coughed. “Some decorum, if you please.”

  “What does that mean?” the queen asked.

  “Calm down, and act a little more regal.”

  “Oh. All right.” The Sea Queen stretched out her palm.

  Amariel placed the ring in her hand. The Epona held it up to the dimming sunwater.

  “Ooo! Ooo!” she squealed. “It’s pretty! What is it?”

  Amariel shrugged.

  “I don’t know. But there is a human here who might be able to tell you.” She pointed across the Festival grounds to where Ven, Char, and Coreon were standing.

  “Ahhh,” Ven murmured. “Brilliant. Coreon, I think she may have gotten you your royal audience after all.”

  “Great,” said Char. “Now I get to pretend I know somethin’ about jewelry?”

  The Sea King gestured from across the Festival grounds. The lines of fish that were swimming in place demarking the racetrack made an opening.

  “Let’s go,” said Ven.

  They swam through the break in the fish line while the Festival crowd stared at them in silence, though their thrum was deafening. When they finally arrived at the foot of the throne where Amariel was floating, the Sea Queen pointed at Char.

  “Come up here beside me, human,” she said sweetly.

  “He’s close enough,” said the king. “What can you tell her about this gift?”

  “Er, it’s called a ring,” said Char, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “Humans wear them on their fingers to show, uh, that they are important and, well, wealthy.”

  The Sea King snorted. He held up his hand.

  A large ring with a red stone was on the first finger.

  “Would you care to tell us something we don’t know?” His thrum did not sound amused.

  “A ring like that is often given by a human man to a human woman as a promise of marriage,” Ven said quickly.

  The Epona’s eyes opened wide. She turned to the Sea King and smiled a glittering smile.

  The Sea King coughed.

  “I just think it’s pretty,” said Amariel.

  Ven nudged Coreon.

  “Your Majesty, I bring you a message from the Cormorant of the eastern coral reef,” Coreon said nervously.

  The Sea King looked relieved.

  “What is it? Thrum unto me.”

  Coreon stepped forward, and the king put his enormous hand on Coreon’s forehead. They both closed their eyes. After a few moments, the king removed his hand.

  “This is disturbing indeed,” he said. “Damage to the reef, murder of its residents—and the possibility of war with the humans in the Gated City.”

  “War with humans?” the queen shrieked. “No!”

  “Calm down and stare at your ring.” The king exhaled, his gills flapping deeply.

  “The Cormorant says he needs your guidance, Your Majesty,” Coreon continued. “Today is Threshold. He only gave me until today to get your answer. He will attack tomorrow.”

  “Not if he listens to my direction,” said the Sea King. “There is no need to invade the Gated City. I will command him to seal the tunnel in such a way that it would have to be entirely re-dug to be reopened. It is folly for him to attack the Gated City for many reasons. The least of those reasons is that when those who live in the sea, as the Lirin-mer do, fight on land, they are more likely to be slaughtered themselves than to kill those they seek to destroy. But you are right about the life cycles of humans being vastly shorter than our own. Those who came on the Athenry are long dead. If even one of their descendants is an innocent captive, then it is worth allowing the city to stand rather than taking that innocent life.”

  Ven, Char, and the queen all sighed in relief.

  “Well, that was a brazen gesture, little one,” the Sea Queen said to the merrow.

  Amariel beamed. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “What does your name mean?”

  Ven was surprised at the question. It seemed odd, given how many times he had been warned about names in the sea. But the merrow shot him a glance of understanding, and he realized that the Sea Queen had not asked for her name, but for its meaning.

  “It means Star of the Sea, Your Majesty,” Amariel said proudly.

  “Ah. Well, then, in return for the ring, I will give you a prophecy. There’s an old riddle about a captive like that,” the Epona queen said. “It goes like this.” Her eyes grew glassy and her face went slack as she spoke the words.

  “Wanderer, out of place in the drift,

  This riddle is to you a gift.

  Free the captive who stays by choice

  Sing a hymn without your voice

  Find the souls forgotten by Time

  Believe the view is worth the climb.

  Follow the path without using your eyes

  Five gifts the price to spare one who dies

  Until the stars shine in the depths of the sea

  Home again you will never be.”

  “What does that mean, Your Majesty?” Ven asked eagerly.

  The Sea Queen shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention during riddle lessons.”

 
“Then you will send your command to the Cormorant?” Coreon asked the king.

  The Sea King nodded. “As soon as the Derby is over, and the Grand Trophy presented, I will send a sunshadow message back to him,” he said. “But what I want to know is why a human and a—a—”

  “Nain,” Ven said.

  “Ah. Why a human and a Nain are in the sea, traveling in the company of a Lirin-mer and a merrow. It seems rather odd.”

  “We came to see the Summer Festival,” said Ven. “Amariel has been telling me about it since we met. One day she hopes to win the Grand Trophy.”

  “Not on this hippocampus, of course,” said the merrow.

  “Good thinking there,” said the king.

  “And if you will allow me, I should like to tell Vandemere, the king of Serendair—and only King Vandemere—about the wisdom and beauty that exists beneath the waves. He has asked me to document the hidden magic of the world—and I think it is important that he know that those who rule in the Deep are as respectful of human life as humans should be of, well—”

  “Mer-life?” the king suggested.

  “Yes, if that’s what it’s called.”

  The Sea King’s eyes twinkled darkly in the sunwater that dimmed a little as he smiled.

  “You may tell King Vandemere—but only the king—what you have seen here. Since you have just trusted me with his name.”

  28

  A Coming Storm

  Ven smiled, but felt his stomach drop at the same time. When am I going to learn to be more careful with names? he thought to himself.

  The Sea King chuckled.

  “Probably never,” he said, reading Ven’s thrum. “It’s not in your culture to guard them, the way it is in the sea. But I suspect it is a lesson that would serve you well on land, also.”

  “No doubt,” Ven agreed. “Might I ask you another question, Your Majesty?”

  The king looked out over the racetrack. The hippocampus reeve and his men were rounding up the wild hippocampi and taking them off to the kelp pens in preparation for the running of the Derby. “Thrum quickly, Nain. The race is about to start. And then I must attend to the Cormorant’s message.”