Luckily, the rocks got wider as they went on until they more or less formed a pathway. The briny water collected into deeper pools, some as black as oil or toxic red, but others shading toward a clear, deep blue.
Experimentally, Morgan dipped a finger in the clear water and tasted it. She almost gagged. It was like putting her tongue right on a salt-lick. Definitely not drinkable.
The lack of freshwater was going to be a problem for her and Al before long.
However, there was plenty to eat. Animals she supposed were alien-fish could be seen darting through the pools. She and Al caught sight of one creature crawling from one pond to the next on stubby legs.
Plants grew more numerous as well. Lichen clung to the rocks in shades of red and yellow. Brown, flat lily-pads dotted the ponds and opened and closed their leaves like gaping mouths.
Most interesting was a large plant that grew between the cracks of rocks with a delicate purple cone on top, upended like an upside-down umbrella.
“The Elders spoke of these.” Al hurried over to sniff at the upside-down umbrella flower. Then, with careful claws, he detached the cone portion and poured the liquid inside in his open mouth. “This nectar is safe to drink. Just try to find one without many bugs in it.”
Cautiously, she tried one for herself. The nectar was light and refreshing, like the time she’d tried dessert wine at Ashley’s mom’s house.
She hadn’t thought of her best friend on Earth in days. And thinking of her made her remember Lucas again.
What wouldn’t she give to text him. Or just know if he was okay.
Was Lucas thinking about her?
Shielding her eyes, she gazed across the gray, ugly alien swamp. I’m doing the right thing, she told herself and ignored the tiny question which popped up more and more frequently in her mind. Aren’t I?
* * *
That night, she and Al set up camp on a large flat rock that stood several feet above the water.
Morgan had found enough dry plant material—she guessed it was a sort of gooey seaweed that had been left out to dry—to start a fire, and Al pulled up several lobster-fish from the brine ponds.
He crunched on one without bothering to cook it, of course.
The long day’s walk had made Morgan hungry enough not to want to bother with an MRE. She took her lobster (it had a lobster-like shell, but much smaller claws and a hugely distended body like a tick.) and stuffed it whole in the burning seaweed.
“What are you doing?” Al came over and crouched on the other side of the fire, watching her work with interest. “Is this some sort of human purification ritual?”
She smiled. “Yellow Crests don’t cook their food?” Which was weird to think about. As far as she could remember, every culture on Earth cooked their food in one way or another.
“You’re charring the meat on purpose?” Al asked slowly, as if certain he must be missing something.
“I’m cooking it, not charring it. I won’t let it get far enough to burn.”
“But, why?”
She shrugged. “It makes tough meat easier to chew, kills bacteria and parasites. I don’t know what toxic crap is in this water. It’s a good way to make meat last without spoiling if you can smoke it. Plus, it tastes better,” she added. “I’ll let you try some when I’m done.”
She let the “lobster” cook and steam until the blue shell cracked. Figuring it was done, she removed it from the fire and cut a bit off with her boxcutter.
The flesh was white and kind of rubbery. She took a tiny bite.
Not bad. The meat didn’t burn or tingle on her tongue. It was fishy and definitely rubbery, but add a little butter and she could almost imagine she was eating crawdad.
“It’s good,” she said in surprise and took a larger bite before she handed some to Al.
He chewed, looking like he was waiting for it to explode in his mouth. “You took out all the flavor and the juice.”
“Well, I make a mean rabbit stew. I’ll make you some when I get back home.” She glanced sideways at Al, realizing she wasn’t sure why she assumed he would be returning to the village with her, but he didn’t say otherwise, and she went back to eating the rest of her… lobster-thing.
As darkness drew in, the waters around them became alive with the sounds of creaking, plopping, and croaking. It was like there were thousands of frogs, and every one of them had a buzz-saw voice.
Morgan got the uncomfortable feeling that night time was prime time around here.
Once the fire burned down, she spread the hot ashes and coals in a circle around herself and Al.
Either it worked, or large creatures weren’t on the menu. The nasties were kept at bay.
* * *
The boggy landscape was as harsh and ugly in the morning as it was at night. Morgan and Al woke to a dense fog that only lifted to show sullen clouds by afternoon.
Morgan, who hadn’t slept well at all, tried to keep on the lookout for more creatures, especially predators. But eventually the landscape started to run together. She walked as if in a daze.
She was jerked back to alertness by Al, who suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“There they are.”
Morgan peered ahead. At first, she saw nothing but murky pools and dark rocks. Then she caught movement in the distance.
Two roly-poly creatures about the size of dogs were hoping in and out of a pool. From the distance and lingering fog, she couldn’t make out much except they were round.
She glanced at Al. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” he replied, heading forward again with a determination in his step. “I think those are fledglings.”
Shielding her eyes, Morgan peered out.
The creatures had spotted them and were standing as still as squirrels caught under a predator’s gaze.
Morgan waved. Their reply was to turn and plop back into the water.
“Oh, great,” Al said.
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“Will there be more of them?”
No sooner had she spoken then a nearby brackish pool she’d thought was shallow came alive with movement. The adult Stone Seekers breached the surface, and Morgan realized why Al had figured the first ones were children.
These newcomers were big. Much bigger than herself and Al—the width of a dairy cow.
Three of them rose out of the water as easily as a seal breaching the surface—and they kind of looked like seals, too. Huge and pear-shaped with rubbery gray-brown hides of thick blubber. Their backs were sloped, ending in flipper feet, and their three joined arms ended in a four-fingered hand.
Morgan had no idea if she were looking at males or females—the three wore no clothing, and had the same pear-shaped bodies without breasts or visible genitalia.
Most alarming were their perfectly round heads which ended in a long, flat snout that would have fit any Earth crocodile, complete with visible upper and lower teeth. Their large eyes were devoid of any pupil and stared flatly out at them.
All in all, the Stone Seekers fit right in with the rest of their habitat: Ugly.
Morgan forced herself to stand her ground. Judging by those jaws, these were predators. She didn’t want to show fear.
Al made a complicated sort of bow, fully extending his side wings in a sweeping gesture. “I’m Alphon’zikk, son of Matron Chtahan’zikk. This is my pride sister, Morgan.”
Pride sister? No time for questions. Morgan gave a small wave. “Hi. I’m Morgan Hennasey, from Earth.”
The Stone Seekers’ attention turned to her, the focus of their flat stares intense. The largest made a sound that started as a goose honk and ended in a series of sharp clicks.
Morgan risked a glance at Al, who waved his tail in negation.
“No idea,” Al said quietly to her. “I haven’t exchanged languages with them.”
Which meant that unless the Stone Seekers had met humans, they hadn’t understood a word she’d said either. “Can they understand you?” she asked.
“Doubt it. These are just low-ranked outliers. We’ll want to speak to the equivalent to their Elders.”
These are just villagers who live on the outskirts, she mentally translated. “Then what was with the bowing?”
“It doesn’t hurt to be polite.” He gave a raptorish shrug.
The Stone Seekers let them speak without interruption. Then, with a series of high clicks, the ones to the right and left peeled off to dive back into the cloudy water. The one in the middle stayed on land. It turned and slowly began to shuffle away.
“I think it wants us to follow it,” Al said.
The Stone Seeker moved about half Morgan’s normal walking pace on land. It often took the opportunity to swim along the surface of the water while Al and Morgan stayed on the stone pathway.
They traveled for another hour. Morgan was getting hungry again. She stopped to drink from a couple of umbrella cups. It helped.
Just when she was considering how to communicate that they should stop for a meal, they came to the largest, blackest pool yet.
It was about the size of a small lake, crusted with rainbow lichen around the edges. As Morgan watched, at least seven crocodile-snout heads popped up and honked at them. Their guide honked back.
None of the new Stone Seekers seemed surprised to see them. Word had already gotten around.
The newcomers swam to the edge of the pool trailing a thick, green rope between them.
Al groaned, low. “Oh, no. Here it is.”
“What?” Morgan asked.
His feathers had gone flat. “The Elders spoke of this: We’re at the entrance to the Stone Seekers’ city. We have to go down.”
“Down? What do you—” She stopped as her heart lurched in her chest. “You mean, they live under the water? Al, you can’t breathe underwater, can you?”
“No, of course not. The Elders said there’s a tunnel under the lake.” He jerked his head around. “There are air pockets under this entire swamp, carved into the rocks. We’re standing on top of their city.”
As he spoke, the Stone Seekers dragged the length of rope up the bank and set it by Al’s feet. They gave a wide berth to Morgan, she noted. They were familiar and comfortable with Al’s species. She, however, was a complete unknown.
Morgan smiled at the closest one. It visibly flinched back. Maybe showing teeth wasn’t a good idea.
She turned back to Al. “Okay. What’s with the rope?”
He let out a breath. “To… to drag you down in case you can’t sink. Like me. The Elders promised the journey wasn’t far…”
Finally, she understood. Poor Al. The tight way his feathers locked to his face made him look small and fragile. To dive underwater had to go against every instinct a creature with wings would have.
“It’s going to be okay, Al,” she said, hoping it was true.
“I know that! I… I know.” But his voice was high and just on this side of panic.
Morgan reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths. I’m going down with you. Humans can swim, and if there’s any trouble I’ll get you back to the surface again.”
“You can?” He looked at her. “You will?”
“Yes, of course. You can do this.”
“I know I can,” he repeated in that same high voice, but reached down to tie the end of the rope around his ankle.
Thinking quickly, Morgan brought her backpack around and fished out her mylar blanket. Most of the supplies were water-resistant by design, but this water looked gross. She would rather not let anything soak if at all possible.
Unfolding the mylar, she wrapped it around the backpack and twisted the top. Then, on second thought, she took off her shoes as well.
Around her, the Stone Seekers clicked to each other in their own conversation. The appearance of her human feet brought a whole new flurry of gossip.
She wrapped shoes, socks, and backpack in the mylar and twisted the top, securing it with a shoelace. Hopefully, it would be water-tight enough.
Al’s jaws were parted, the skin on his neck expanding and contracting with every breath in a sign of distress. The sooner they got this done, the better.
“Ready?” Morgan asked.
“If the Elders can do it, so can I,” he replied.
Tentatively, Morgan waded in. The water was ice cold and the bottom of the pool was unpleasant with slime. Gritting her teeth and holding the bag high, she made herself move forward.
She couldn’t see bottom, and almost ducked under when the lip of the pool dropped off suddenly. Soon, she was treading water.
Al was a lot less graceful, spreading his wings to bob along the surface. His claws could be dangerous if he caught her while paddling, so Morgan made sure to keep a few feet from him.
The Stone Seekers followed them out, also keeping a safe distance. One grabbed the other end of the rope and waited patiently.
“On three?” Morgan asked, wrapping the loose rope around her wrist.
“What?” Al shrilled.
She held up three fingers. “Three.” She dropped one. “Two.” She took a breath and so did Al. “One.”
She nodded to the Stone Seeker.
Some gestures must be universal because it ducked under. The rope tugged, and Morgan found herself being dragged underwater with a very unhappy velociraptor in tow.
* * *
Whoever held the other end of the rope was seriously powerful. Morgan felt water rushing all around her. Within moments, the surface had completely disappeared leaving inky black all around her.
Then, rushing toward them was a bluish light.
Morgan blinked, not quite understanding what she was seeing until she realized the light wasn’t rushing toward her. She was rushing toward it.
It was a tunnel with glowing rocks on all sides lit in light blue, pale lavender, and sea green. The rocks grew more numerous and the light stronger as they were pulled in.
Then, the tunnel opened and the rope went slack.
Al popped up to the surface like a cork thanks to the air trapped within his feathers.
Letting the rope go, Morgan kicked upward, the Stone Seekers darting and clicking all around her. She had the feeling that if she showed any distress, someone would be there to give her a lift.
As it was, the journey had been so fast her lungs were hardly burning when she reached the surface.
At first, she could see nothing because Al was flailing, arms and wings flapping as he more or less panicked his way across the pool and to a nearby stone ledge.
“Are you okay?” Morgan asked, trying not to laugh.
Stone Seekers popped up beside her and clicked. She waved them off and paddled her way to the edge under her own power.
Al dragged himself out, looking like a half-drowned chicken. Cutting the rope free, he shook himself like a dog, spraying everyone around him.
Morgan stepped out of the pool, mylar bag in hand, and stared.
She was in an immense cavern—probably an old lava tube— lit with glowing stones pushed into the wall in a multitude of colors: Buttery yellow, rose petal red, and the sea greens, blues, and purples she had seen underwater. The air was warm and humid and smelled sweet.
She thought she might be in the middle of a village. Dozens of Stone Seekers waddled to and fro, some tinier, rounder versions by their sides. Children? Some carried seaweed baskets filled with wiggling creatures, others strings of shells.
Rocky steps led from the pool, and standing at the top were four of the largest Stone Seekers she had yet seen. All wore glowing rock necklaces of every color. It probably meant something, though she had no idea what.
Morgan nudged Al with her elbow. He stopped spluttering and looked up.
Collecting himself, he did that complicated bow with his wings outstretched—though it looked less impressive with his feathers in wet disarray.
It was time she introduced herself. “Morgan Hennasey,” she said, touching her own chest. Then, in a moment of inspiration, she reached out with one hand to the closest Stone Seeker, who wore a blue necklace.
The Stone Seeker was quick on the uptake and copied the gesture. Within a moment, she was shaking hands with an alien.
It honked at her.
Then all eyes turned to Al, waiting. These were the equivalent of Elders who had traded languages with raptors before. They would be able to understand him, at least.
Al sucked in a deep breath. “My pack sister, Morgan, calls herself a human. She seeks information about the Makers and of this planet. She wishes to contact them.”
“And medicine, if they have it,” Morgan said.
“And receive the knowledge of medicine,” Al said. “As for me...” He took another deep breath and his lips peeled aggressively back from his sharp front teeth. “I have come to trade for revenge, and for the knowledge of tools of war. The Wolves have destroyed my home nest. The Yellow Crests are dead. I am the last of my kind.”