Chapter Sixty
The Worlds Within
The boy from Istol, despite what he quite earnestly believed, did not turn to soup upon hitting the rocks. In fact, upon hitting the rocks, he didn’t hit any rocks at all. Had he not been sinking into the freezing depths below, weighed down by his water-logged clothes, Michael was certain he would’ve found that peculiar, but as already mentioned, he had other things on his mind. Least of all soup.
The next thing he was aware of was the strong hands pulling him roughly into a sea-side cave before disregarding him on the wet stone.
Michael rolled over, coughing up a lungful of salt water and collapsing onto his back. He nearly allowed his eyes to close from fatigue when they shot open and he sat up, looking desperately for the others.
The cave was little more than a roofed ledge, dripping wet and slick with moss.
On the cave’s edge sat Magnus alone, still dripping with his dark cloak draped over his slender frame. His scythe was laid upon his lap as the wind whistled by the blade. He looked like some folk-tale merchant of death, come to collect Michael’s soul, only to find he’d come too early.
Magnus glanced toward him and then nodded to the lapping waves, dipping ominously before they exploded against the cliff-wall. “They’re in there somewhere.”
Michael almost didn’t register his words, for they were spoken so softly and absent of his usual malice and cruelty. Michael blinked and realised what he’d said, and without a moment’s doubt, stood up and dove headfirst into the crashing depths.
Michael squinted through the burning salt to find no rocks, and no sinking bodies of his friends in the dark waters beneath the surface. He kicked hard, forcing himself down further and further but nothing revealed itself. He thought of conjuring starfire but before long his lungs began to burn and he returned to the white water above, coughing and sputtering. Michael pulled himself back under the waves again, clawing at the water to go as deep as his breath could allow, but he couldn’t see further than his pale hands. He felt his lungs begin to burn again and he knew his friends had been under water for minutes now.
Michael burst back above the surface, breathing panicked breaths as tears formed in his eyes. “No, no no.”
“Hello!”
Michael jumped out of his skin and thrashed around to face the voice, still struggling to stay above the water.
It was a woman covered in thick green scales up to her neck, dark as seaweed. Her skin was lighter by only a shade, a deep sea-blue with a pair of emerald irises that shone in the daylight, making Riniglacian eyes look dull. She was treading strangely high out of the water displaying a thick, strong stomach and powerfully taut arms.
She tilted her head with wide eyes, examining Michael like she’d found a puppy lapping up a puddle. She pulled her mass of hair over one shoulder and ran through it with her fingers. It was black like the night and had messy bows of seaweed sectioning it.
The water was clear enough that Michael could see an elongated tail running from her hips into the water. It was like that of a giant barracuda subtly morphing into her waist. He had been staring at her for nearly a minute in silence, utterly shocked.
“Are you looking for someone?” she said with a voice like raindrops on water, heavy with a deep accent.
Trying not to stare at the tail swishing lightly through the water, Michael found his voice and quickly returned to reality. “Yes! My friends, they fell down here!”
The fish-woman clapped her hands, twirling her great tail below the surface. “Ah yes! Only a moment ago, we founded a group of silly striders. I take it you’re with them?”
Michael felt his heart ease and he sank his face into his hands in relief.
“Are you okay, Legacy?”
Michael nodded, before growing stiff. “How do you know I’m a Legacy? Who are you?”
The sea-woman smiled brightly and let a fistful of water drip through her fingers. “We sense all things which travel our waters. Your Arcancy is runs through the waves like lightning on a cloudless day. I am the Holorhi-Nahni of Kavoe Farnea. I am most delighted to meet you.”
Michael caught none of the words the first go around. “I’m sorry. Ho-lore-he? And Nah-knee?”
She smiled, raised both of her tinted hands and brought them together. “Holorhi-Nahni.”
The green-scaled woman made a ceremonial gesture with her hands, placing both hands back-to-back, so they cross over at the wrists, and gently touching her thumbs to her forehead, all with her eyes gently closed.
Michael lamely held his hand out to her and said, “It’s nice to meet you Holorhi-Nahni, but where did you take my friends?”
She wrinkled her brow and softly slapped his presented palm. “I did not take them. My father’s guard did.”
Michael’s face went tight with confusion as he struggled to continue treading water. The cold had dug deeply into his muscles and he began to realise how truly tired his body had become. “Why? Sorry- Holorhi, was it?” The word knotted his tongue to pronounce.
The scaled woman snorted, a sound which came across oddly dolphin-like. “It’s not a first name. It is my title. My father is the Holorhi of our Staadi, and I am his heir.”
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Michael was painfully interested in every word but his legs were growing number with every weary kick. “So, my friends are safe?”
The Holorhi-Nahni slowly said, “Yes...” as though she were also doing her best not to add right now. She looked back up after her moment of contemplation to see he was struggling. The woman gave him a soft smile as she moved through the water toward him, gently placing her hands on his face.
Michael’s heart went quiet in his chest. Her hands were warm. “Hello.”
The Holorh-Nahni snorted. “Hello again. Would you like some daesia?”
Michael had no idea what she meant but nodded. “What is that?”
In his heart of hearts Michael knew he shouldn’t trust her. There was literally not a single folk tale about mermaids, sirens, or sea dwellers than didn’t end in a vicious murder.
However, when he was twelve and fantasising about how he would do battle with an evil sea warlock, he was a lot more armed, a lot less hypothermic, and they didn’t smell surprisingly like pine.
“In my tongue it means Inner Lightning.”
Michael didn’t know what that meant but decided trust was probably a one-way street right at that moment. He’d once been fishing off the Dim-Side docks with James and was nearly drowned by a foot-long Snapper. Looking at her, he didn’t rate his chances highly.
And she smelled like pine.
He felt the Holorhi-Nahni move closer and apply the slightest pressure his cheekbones and jaw, and a foreign energy breathed into his muscles, not only pushing out the stress and weariness from his limbs but filling them with a rejuvenated strength and sense of understanding. Immediately he knew how deep the water was, to the inch, and how long he’d be able to hold his breath before he passed out. The chill in his blood vanished and all sense of panic was dulled.
The magic was curious. Michael’s Arcancy felt like he was using the strength inside him to try and alter the world, but this felt like rather the opposite. It was much closer to the world offering its energy to him.
At the look on his face the woman laughed audibly and swam excitedly in place.
Despite her greater stature, Michael guessed by the tone of her voice and the energy in her eyes that she couldn’t have been much older than Sarah, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, or her people’s equivalent. He looked at her then cast a small glance to the sea-side cave where Magnus sat, watching them both quietly, like an evening shadow.
“You’re a Mariniad, aren’t you? A Sea Dweller?” Michael said safely, still distracted by her fish-tail.
“They’re your words for us. I am Merhoii, yes,” she said politely, giving her odd prayer-like greeting once more. “But, I suppose we do call you striders. Would you like to see your friends?”
Michael nodded quickly. “Yes, thank you!” He spun in the water, and shouted to Magnus, “You coming?”
The pale, red-eyed boy looked at him and then the Sea Dweller. He simply shook his head and lay back on the wet stone as waves lapped up at his feet.
The Holorhi-Nahni chuckled and frowned, squinting at Magnus. “I haven’t seen a Konakiian in some time. Hm. Are you ready?”
Michael frowned. “Oh are we going under? I- um -my lungs are a bit limited-”
“Would you like help?”
Michael spent a moment trying to guess what that meant and nodded carefully.
The Holorhi-Nahni suppressed a laugh and as casually as a handshake, leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.
Michael was frozen for a moment and broke into a shy smile that he covered badly with a hand. He went to ask why she kissed him when he found he couldn’t talk. His face went still. He couldn’t breathe. Michael gasped for air but his lungs were shifting inside his chest and he could feel the muscles twisting.
Michael looked up her in panic as the Holorhi-Nahni placed a firm hand on his shoulder, still pleasantly smiling, and shoved him under the water.
He’d done it again, gotten caught up in the magic and forgotten the danger. He held his struggled breath as the water crash over him and saw blue spots dancing in his vision. She’d killed him. He knew it.
Michael couldn’t hold the breath any longer and let out a great gasp, clawing for the surface, only to find he was no longer struggling. He was still underwater, and yet somehow, he was breathing more clearly than he ever had above it.
He felt the water rush into his twisted lungs and release back into the waves.
The Holorhi-Nahni submerged into the water before him, smiling politely.
Michael let out a relieved sigh and shook his head, noticing how long his hair had grown as it swirled around his face, playing in the currents.
The woman with seaweed bows smiled at him under the waves and took his hand. “Hold on tight.”
She whipped her tail back and forth and they together they shot down on an angle.
They roared down deeper and deeper until shadow clouded the world around them and Michael’s confusion rose. At a depth as great this, it should’ve felt as if his head was in a vice, however he felt more like he was at a high altitude descending to a normal one, his thoughts clearing and his breathing becoming gentler.
They were still going down at a fierce angle and it was darker than the depths of Nikereus’ cavern. Finally he felt them pull to a stop.
Michael could scarcely see her outline as she proudly gestured to something he was too blind to see, even with the sight of his power. He smiled out of politeness, aware that his recklessness was the root of most of his problems.
The Holorhi-Nahni saw his blank reaction and sighed, “I always forget the second bit.”
She swam up close to him once more and Michael could feel her warmth through the water. He wondered if she was about to kiss him again when she took her thumb and index finger and promptly jabbed him the eyes.
With Nichole slapping him and dust shredding him and now this, Michael was beginning to get quite sensitive about injuries happening to his face, eyes and head.
Once he’d sufficiently moaned with his eyes clenched tight, he squinted them open again and found he cared very little about the pain. He looked across a now crystal-clear seabed, in which laid a great, underwater city, stretching for leagues across the ocean floor. It was a monument to coral and sandstone, made up of low-lying streets of polished blue stone, bright as sapphire, as well as enormous towering monuments of basalt rock, smooth as melted ice. Spires of twisting, purple gemstone loomed at varying heights, sparkling with light and Michael could see the most beautiful inscriptions inlaid into their stonework. Many of the taller towers went up so high that they vanished amidst the layer of darkness hiding the kingdom. But down below, magical orbs of various different shades of blue, purple, and green were dotted about every street corner, showering the rows and rows of Mariniad hovels with gorgeous crystal-coloured light.
Michael looked out over the vast, sprawling city and had nothing to say at all. It was as though someone had taken an ocean’s worth of diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, lapis, and amethyst and laid them out perfectly among the seabed, then watched as the eternal tide smoothed them together like an unending highland of gemstone and wave-touched starlight.
Above it all, creatures frolicked in between the spires. Turtles swam in great, migrating herds. Fish moved around in thick clouds as sharks barely acknowledged them, and far above them all, whales, as dark as the night itself, gently sang while their calves played behind them, swimming in several great pods over the city.
The Holorhi-Nahni’s dark hair flowed easily in the tide as her kind, crystal-green eyes twinkled. “Welcome to the Staadi of Kavoe Farnea, or in your tongue, The City of the Fearless Deep.”
Michael looked at her in disbelief. He’d heard the name before, long ago. It was a place of turmoil and adventure and tragedy and myth. And he, Michael Williams of Dim-Side, a nobody of nowhere, stood at its border.