Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (22 page)

The anemonites and their kraegas moved along with her, spreading out, alert for any signs of merlon pursuit. At last, Lyssandra removed her weighted shell belt so she had more buoyancy and rose swiftly and easily. She didn’t know what section of the island they were approaching, whether they would arrive in the harbor or up against the cliffs. She had to find some place where she and the rescued anemonites could get help.

Finally, she and the anemonite scientists reached the last ledge before the surface, where sunlight shone down, stippling the choppy waves. Surprised to find her way blocked by an even rock wall that curved along the surface like the battlements of a castle, Lyssandra suddenly realized what it was: the breakwater that sheltered the calm cove where the five friends had gone swimming on the fateful day of their capture.

Swimming along, she found the neat circular tunnel made by the merlon magic, through which the merlons and Orpheon had breached the wall. Now the passage provided easy access for Lyssandra and the jellyfish-scientists to the cove. And the shore. And safety!

Once inside the breakwater, Lyssandra propelled herself upward with all the force she could muster. Her head burst above water in the calm cove.

Vic and Gwen had warned her that it would be difficult, but she knew she could breathe the air again. A current pushed her from behind as she moved forward, treading water, letting her nose and mouth drain, spilling water from her gill slits. Although it was a strange sensation, she contracted her chest to force seawater out of her lungs. She gagged as it gurgled up and out of her throat and poured from her mouth. Her half-empty lungs screamed for something to fill them.

She swam toward the lonely shore until the water was only waist-deep. She stood and tried to take a deep breath. Her gills worked to draw in water, but there was none. A sense of panic nearly overwhelmed her. There was nothing to breathe! She couldn’t feel a thing. She could draw no more oxygen from the water in her lungs, and her body was rejecting the very weightlessness of the air around her as unbreathable.

Behind her, the anemonites and their kraegas breached the surface, and puttered around the cove.

Lyssandra sloshed and staggered toward the beach. Sparkles of darkness and light clouded her vision, but she pushed herself forward, now only ankle-deep in the water. She coughed, forcing more water from her lungs. Her attempts to breathe drew the water back into her throat, which made her cough again. The spangles of darkness and light in front of her eyes became more pronounced.

As she dropped onto her hands and knees on the gritty beach, the bright spangles faded entirely from her vision. She fell forward, unconscious on the sand.

25

THE WASTELAND AROUND LAVAJA Canyon shimmered an angry red, as if reflecting the mood of Orpheon and General Blackfrill. Although the four apprentices were captives once again, Sharif was not ready to bow his head in defeat. He was glad to see that Vic was openly defiant, Gwen appeared aloof, and Tiaret was not bothering to hide her disdain for the merlons and Orpheon.

The last time Sharif had tried to get away, Orpheon had destroyed Piri. The ache and grief still burned like an ember in Sharif’s heart. While he floated beside his companions near the edge of the lavaja operations, Sharif felt a sudden apprehension at the thought of what their captors might do this time. Would his own life, or Tiaret’s, be forfeited now? Although Orpheon clearly had orders not to kill the two seal-breakers, Sharif knew that he and the girl from Afirik were not similarly protected.

Orpheon sneered at the recaptured apprentices. “We thought you had learned your lesson. Azric will be greatly disappointed.”

“I have no interest in pleasing Azric,” Sharif growled, unable to stop thinking of how the disguised dark sage had killed his brother in the flying city. “Or you.”

“What did he expect from us?” Vic asked. “A handwritten thank-you note for all the wonderful things he’s done? A parade?”

“He murdered my parents and kidnapped us,” Gwen said in a brittle voice. “That’s not exactly a good way to earn loyalty.” When they were all hiding in the Golden Walrus, Gwen and Vic had decided not to pretend any further cooperation with the dark sage, no matter what. It would do no good.

The traitorous former apprentice scoffed back at them. “You should be grateful for your lives, at least. Just accept the fact that you will never escape.”

Now that their escape attempt had failed, Sharif doubted any of them would get another chance. “One of us got away,” he pointed out in a low voice, further infuriating Orpheon, who lashed out and struck him in the face.

“Lyssandra was useless, anyway.” He motioned to a cluster of merlon guards, who dispersed at his command. “Continue the search. When you find the girl, kill her.”

“You will not find her,” Tiaret said, sounding entirely confident.

“She must be long gone by now,” Vic added.

“Either way, the rest of you are prisoners,” Orpheon said.

Sharif managed to sound simultaneously haughty and bleak. “My people have a saying: Though the body is captive, the mind roams free. You and Azric must understand by now that you will never break our spirits.”

“Really? Destroying your little djinni was only a first step.” Orpheon’s dark eyebrows went up and his lips curled in derision. “But now you have presented me with an interesting challenge.”

The prince did not cower at Orpheon’s threat. “What more can you do — kill me?”

The other man shrugged. “Only if need be. But why would I, when there are so many other creative options to explore? Mental pain, for example, seems to be quite a suitable chastisement for you. Make the great prince small and helpless. I’ve already warned you that because you’re a leader, your actions have repercussions for others. Your mind may ‘roam free,’ but I’m sure I can reach it. Whether the punishment is direct or indirect, you can still suffer.”

Sharif felt a knot of concern tighten in his gut, though he did not show it. Orpheon seemed to relish the fact that he was finally getting a response from the proud young man. With a triumphant laugh, he swam toward a simmering crack where molten lavaja flowed to the surface. Somewhere down there, Piri had vanished. Sharif stared at the crack, as if a part of him still expected to catch a glimpse of her.

“Bring me the beast,” Orpheon snapped at several merlon guards. They swam away like a gang of thugs bent on vengeance.

Sharif was startled, then dismayed as Blackfrill and his undersea warriors returned, leading the captured great jhanta toward them. They jabbed it with their spears whenever the creature attempted to swim in another direction. Blackfrill carried a trident in one hand and Tiaret’s teaching staff in the other. Anger welled up inside Sharif, but it did him no good to struggle pointlessly. He gritted his teeth and waited. Once the guards had the jhanta close enough to the edge of the lavaja cracks, they formed a protective ring around it, holding it with doolya ropes and threatening it with their sharp weapons.

With a cruel smile of anticipation, Orpheon went to a rack of metal rods the merlon workers had installed near the edge of the molten crystal. He selected one of the rods, looking with satisfaction at the flat piece of scrolled metal affixed to its tip, and plunged it into the bright, flowing lavaja. He waited while the scrolled end heated with blazing magic, then withdrew the instrument. A trail of small bubbles followed its movement, as if water were boiling around the scrolled metal. He held up the instrument, and the prince realized what it was. Sharif lunged, but the aquatic warriors held him tightly.

Casting a glance at Sharif, Orpheon swam with the sizzling rod past the wary ring of merlon guards. The tip glowed orange with heat.

“Observe, young prince. Another price of your disobedience.” He rammed the burning branding iron against the great jhanta’s left wing-fin. The gray flesh sizzled, and the creature flapped and writhed, making a shrieking sound that was simultaneously high- and low-pitched.

Guards yanked the ropes and jabbed savagely at it with their spears, barely keeping the creature in check. Sharif’s stomach clenched. He found it hard to watch the barbaric spectacle. The jhanta’s shrieking set his teeth on edge, and still Orpheon did not let go of the branding iron. Finally, the fiend pulled the hot iron from the jhanta’s wing, and Sharif could see that the brand had burned deep into the poor creature’s flesh, deeper than he had seen on any other creature marked by the merlons. Beside him, Gwen shuddered.

With a taunting look, Orpheon swam out of the group of guards and casually thrust the branding iron back into the flowing lavaja. “Shall I continue?” he asked Sharif. “How does it feel to know that the beast will never be free again and will die in service to our master?”

“Your master,” Sharif corrected. “I serve no one.”

“Not even Sage Rubicas?” Orpheon taunted.

“We are apprentices to the Ven Sage, not slaves. I give my assistance freely because I am free. I belong to no one.”

“Is that so?” Orpheon nodded to the pair of guards who held Sharif’s arms. “Hold him still.” He withdrew the brand from the lavaja again. “You will have a different form of apprenticeship here, young prince, and you will learn.”

Although Sharif knew that the traitorous assistant was cruel, he still did not expect what happened next. With a movement so fast that it was a blur, Orpheon thrust the branding iron forward and rammed it against the meaty part of Sharif’s bare shoulder. The prince, who had not flinched until now, went completely rigid. A scream rose to his throat, but he clamped down to keep it inside even as the branding iron scorched his flesh. He felt all color drain from his face. As if from a great distance, he could hear Gwen and Vic both crying out, and Tiaret shouting in defiance and outrage, but Sharif could barely comprehend anything through the agony.

His pain-fogged gaze drifted toward his friends, all of whom struggled with their captors. Though unable to break loose, Tiaret lashed out with her feet and managed to kick the branding iron out of Orpheon’s grasp. Sharif slumped forward and drifted unconscious in the water.

The mark of merlon slavery glowed raw and red on his shoulder.

26

LYSSANDRA WOKE TO A gentle rocking and realized she was being carried. So, someone had found her on the isolated beach! She felt comfortable, warm, dry, and safe for the first time since the kidnapping. But what if it was only another vivid prophetic dream? What if she opened her eyes to find that she was still a captive beneath the oceans?

She gingerly raised her eyelids and looked up into the hazel eyes of Vic’s father. “You’re safe,” Sage Pierce said, both comforting and anxious. “Where have you been? We heard from Vic and Gwen and your other friends.”

“Anemonites,” she rasped, finding it difficult to speak, both because she was exhausted and sore, and because it seemed so long since she’d made words in the open air. “Escaped merlons. The others . . . did not arrive? Not here?”

She turned her head to see that Ven Rubicas was walking beside them, hurrying Lyssandra back to the city and the Hall of Healers. “An aquit arrived two days ago, telling us that the merlons had captured you apprentices, and that all of you had attempted to escape.”

“Aquit?” Lyssandra couldn’t remember seeing any of the small undersea messengers anywhere close to the merlon cities.

“Yes, Gwen sent it,” Sage Pierce said. “She and Vic explained what happened, and we’re putting together a full-fledged rescue operation.”

“Alas, none of the others has made it to Elantya — only you. We have been patrolling the waters and beaches around the island,” Rubicas added. “We must assume your companions were recaptured.”

Or worse, Lyssandra thought.

“Anemonites,” she managed to repeat. “Brought here.”

Rubicas was grinning. “Yes, we saw them when we found you. It is wonderful that you freed them, and they have volunteered to help us with our defenses. Sage Polup is already with them.”

“Thanks to them, we’ll be able to respond to the merlon provocation within a day or two,” Vic’s father said. “Those merlons won’t know what hit them.”

The sages must have said more as they carried her along, but Lyssandra, with a real sense of relief this time, fell asleep.

IN THE HALL OF Healers, Lyssandra was fussed over, cleaned, fed, and told to rest. The healers helped her change out of her now-ragged brevi into a loose, comfortable gown. They were most fascinated by the gill slits on her neck.

Her family had rushed to the building, breathless and flushed with excitement. Kaisa had insisted on bringing food and a pot of her most potent greenstepe. Lyssandra’s father hovered at her bedside, while her little brother Xandas chattered about how glad they were to have her back.

As soon as she felt the energizing effects of her mother’s greenstepe, Lyssandra tried to get out of bed. “I must see the Pentumvirate. They must hear what I have learned.”

The Healers clucked like hens, but Lyssandra’s parents understood the urgency. Her mother seemed proud of Lyssandra’s resilience.

“The Virs are in session. They have been meeting almost every waking hour since they received word from the aquit,” her father said.

Kaisa turned to the Healers. “I know full well how to take care of my daughter. At any other time, I would insist she stay in bed for a week, but she is right. We will take her to the Pentumvirate chambers ourselves.”