Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) (28 page)

Read Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2) Online

Authors: Rebecca Moesta,Kevin J. Anderson

Tags: #JUV037000

BOOK: Crystal Doors #2: Ocean Realm (No. 2)
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“Wait!” Gwen shouted.

The other anemonite craft followed as Lyssandra and Vic zoomed toward the tethered workers. Vic spotted Sharif at the bottom of the canyon on the opposite side of the bright fissure from Tiaret. They both looked ready to fight!

The two bubletts swung in like miniature wrecking balls as they pulled the cousins along. They transmitted a quick message. “Let go. We will distract them while you help your friends.”

From the expression on her face, Gwen was clearly skeptical about the wisdom of the supposed “plan” — such as it was — but it was too late for her to stop anything.

The anemonite bubletts streaked in front of the tethered merlon slaves. In the turmoil, a crucible disengaged from its chain, fell from the crane, and tumbled into the seething lavaja. Several slaves broke free and scrambled about in a panic, which was increased by their natural resentment toward the dominant guards. Even the remaining merlon warriors became frantic, jabbing with their spears or throwing tridents at the racing anemonite vessels. A jagged-tipped weapon struck one hull, but bounced harmlessly off.

Blackfrill loomed up in front of Ronra’s craft and swung the dragon’s-eye end of Tiaret’s teaching staff at it. The downtrodden jellyfish scientist was all too happy to launch one of the two small quarrels built into her bublett. The stubby metal arrow struck the outraged merlon general in the shoulder plate and dug in. Blackfrill roared and grabbed for the bublett with one clawed hand, but the anemonite dodged out of the way.

Still tethered, Tiaret attacked the nearest merlon guard, grasping his spear without pausing to consider her own safety. She got the weapon away from him, slashed at her bindings, and freed herself. Yelling, the girl from Afirik swam over to Sharif and cut his ankle tether, freeing him just as Gwen, Vic, and Lyssandra reached them.

Now Orpheon joined the fray, looking furious at his loss of control. Five more guards, intent on their duty, brandished their spears and tridents to block the escaping humans and slaves. One warrior drew a curved scimitar.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, a floating globe swooped in front of Sharif, dodging and weaving. Like a fireball, the crystalline bubble throbbed a deep, dull red that flared into a nova of scarlet and orange that blinded the guards. A petite cannonball, the resurrected Piri smashed one of the merlon guards in the forehead, making him drop his weapons as he tried to flee from this unexpected enemy.

Meanwhile, Blackfrill had ripped the metal quarrel out of his shoulder. Brandishing the unbreakable teaching staff, he swam toward the five apprentices. The general, who had been looking for any excuse to get revenge on the young human captives, did not care about Azric’s sorcerous plans. He only wanted to serve the merlon king.

Blackfrill charged straight toward Tiaret, the sharp end of the teaching staff extended and murder in his eyes. But unlike the other slaves, Tiaret was not easily cowed. She dove directly at the general, surprising him. “You have something of mine.”

He jabbed the spear point at her, but she did not shrink away; instead, Tiaret seized the teaching staff and yanked. Blackfrill turned the staff, straining to bring its sharp point against Tiaret’s side, then slashed with his other hand, raking sharp claws down her ribs. Though the cuts weren’t deep, the pain caused Tiaret to recoil momentarily and lose her grip on the teaching staff.

Enraged, Blackfrill twisted the weapon out of her grip and drew it back, ready to plunge the sharp tip into her heart.

Close to her, Vic fought against another merlon warrior, who slashed with a narwhal-tusk spear. Seeing Tiaret in trouble, Vic instinctively reacted with the zy’oah reflexes his mother had taught him, moving with unexpected speed. While the merlon general closed in on Tiaret, he snatched a trident abandoned by a fleeing guard and kicked out at his own opponent as the sharp narwhal tusk came at him. Knocking the other merlon guard away, he paid no further attention to him, gripped the trident shaft as tightly as he could, and swung it toward Blackfrill.

He only intended to knock the merlon general away, to protect his friend as she had protected Vic so many times. But Black-frill lunged forward, truly intending to kill Tiaret, just as Vic thrust the trident with all of his strength. All three points of the jagged underwater spear plunged deep into the general’s chest.

Vic’s own shock at what he’d done absorbed all his concentration. Then he experienced a sensation that was strange — and wrong. It took him several seconds to realize that the other merlon guard had actually jabbed him in the thigh with the narwhal-tusk spear. In his urgent rush to save his friend, Vic hadn’t even noticed the wound. But, without doubt, the pain would come.

Stunned, Vic held onto the trident, with Blackfrill skewered on it. The general twitched and thrashed, clutching at the tines of the weapon embedded in his chest until he went limp. Dark merlon blood drifted in the water, mingling with bright red from Vic’s thigh.

Now the other guard, taking advantage of Vic’s surprise, tried to attack him again. But Tiaret wrested her unbreakable teaching staff from Blackfrill’s loosening hands and swung it at the guard, snapping his spear, then swung again to crack his skull. She looked at him, satisfied with the result.

“I guess we’re even then,” Vic said.

“For today.”

Finally letting go of the bloodstained trident, Vic stared in disbelief at what he had done. “I . . . I killed him. I killed Blackfrill!”

When he and his friends had fought the merlons on the Golden Walrus and in Elantya, they had been nameless enemies, all alike to him. He hadn’t seen where they lived, hadn’t spoken their language. But Vic had known Blackfrill — had heard the sound of his voice, had hated him. The general had meant to slaughter Tiaret and probably would have killed all of them, unless they fought back. Logically, there was no reason to feel guilty.

Gwen swam toward him. “Taz, you’re bleeding!” She took the handkerchief and pouch from his belt, pressed the leather pouch to the narwhal spear wound and tied it in place with the hankie. He didn’t want to admit it, but the gash was really starting to hurt, and he could see how much he was bleeding.

Now Orpheon, enraged at the defiance of the human captives, took up a place near a wide fissure in Lavaja Canyon. The traitorous apprentice drew a rune in the water and muttered a string of unfamiliar words, summoning the power contained within the molten crystal flowing through the fissure. Tongues of lavaja flickered from the rift. The cracks blazed brighter.

In the water, Vic felt the tingle of burgeoning energy about to be released.

Sharif felt it too, and realized what Orpheon was doing. “No! You cannot possibly hope to control so much magic once you unleash it.”

Orpheon barked a laugh. “The powerless prince doubts my powers? Perhaps that fool Rubicas is too feeble to control such forces, but I am not so weak. It seems I have yet another lesson to teach you.” He spread his arms, hands pointed downward, fingers splayed.

Lavaja began to boil and plume upward from the fissures all around, awakened by Orpheon’s dark magic.

Sharif moved closer to the former apprentice. “Wait. At least give the slaves and animals and slave masters time to leave the canyon first.”

“They are of no consequence to me,” Orpheon sneered. “And you are even less important. I am your master. Perhaps if you kneel to me I will consider your request.”

Swimming forward, Sharif shook his head. “You may be powerful, but you are no master. You are still Azric’s lackey, unable to make your own decisions.” The water closer to the cracks scalded the prince’s bare skin, making the brand mark on his shoulder throb.

“I do not need Azric’s permission to kill you,” Orpheon snarled, lunging toward Sharif. In that moment, he lost control of whatever magic he’d been working. Orpheon quickly shouted more words in the ancient language, trying to continue his spell.

The prince dove to one side and snatched up a coral-encrusted staff dropped by one of the slave drivers. He felt the resistance as he swung it as hard as he could through the water and struck Orpheon’s knees a hard blow.

The dark sage stopped in mid-syllable, drifted a moment in shock, then caught himself. He spun and charged at Sharif, who swam backward toward the fiery cracks.

Suddenly Piri was there, flashing and dodging. When Orpheon had thrown the nymph djinni into the lavaja as a means to punish Sharif, he had never anticipated her return — or her amazing metamorphosis.

The crystalline djinni sphere smashed Orpheon in the groin, making him curl up and sink toward the ocean floor. It was too late to stop the process the dark sage’s spell had set in motion, like an avalanche of magic.

Howling curses, Orpheon grabbed for Sharif with one hand and caught hold of his leg, but the prince spun, yanked the leg free, and kicked the dark sage in the mouth.

Piri flashed in Orpheon’s face again. He struggled to see where he was at the edge of the fissure.

“I can still destroy you,” Orpheon raged, snatching for the eggsphere. The crevice split open wider. Sharif kicked out at the dark sage with both legs at once. The traitorous apprentice jerked backward as a large plume of molten crystal splashed up, engulfing him in the incandescent lavaja. Just as quickly, the plume of superheated liquid crystal receded into the crevice, and Orpheon sank with it out of sight.

Even that didn’t end the spell. The reckless unleashing continued to build.

The two anemonites circled Vic in their bubletts, sending urgent signals. The body of Blackfrill, with the trident still sticking out of his chest, drifted in the swirling, hot currents. Vic pressed his hand against his own wound.

“We have to go, Taz!” Gwen said, unclasping his heavy belt.

“We are in danger here,” Tiaret agreed, grabbing his arm. In her other hand, she held her teaching staff. The slashes on her ribs hardly seemed to bother her.

Master Polup’s bublett dove in front of Vic, forcing him to tear his eyes from the general he had killed. “Come, Viccus. If ever two creatures deserved their fates, they were Blackfrill and Orpheon.”

Vic knew Sage Polup was right. He looked down into the seething molten crystal, but saw no sign of the former apprentice. The ocean began to grow hotter all around them as the pressure of the seething lavaja continued to build.

33

 

PIRI’S VOICE WAS URGENT in Sharif’s mind. Lavaja. Now!

Exhilaration from the fight, from seeing Orpheon meet his end at last, still coursed through his veins. Several globs of lavaja belched up from the thermal vent, as if swallowing the evil man had caused it indigestion. All of the seabed around Lavaja Canyon cracked and split, and the water at the edges of the molten aja fissures boiled, producing clouds of tiny bubbles.

Now Sharif understood the djinni’s warning. The lavaja was going to surge out in a great eruption. They had to get away — now!

With furious strokes, Sharif retreated from the work zone while Piri kept pace just beside him, glowing brightly. Lavaja began to bubble and rise, oozing out of the cracks and spewing higher. It was going to get very uncomfortable here soon.

Sensing the impending disaster, the other merlon slaves scrambled to tear the tethers from their ankles. Once they freed themselves, the captive merlons dropped their lavaja-harvesting equipment where it was and swam away in all directions. The few remaining warriors and slave masters could not control them, especially with both Orpheon and Blackfrill gone.

Far overhead, the sea fireworks and the battle continued.

Lavaja soon, Piri said frantically in Sharif’s mind. Much more.

Sharif took off his seashell belt and called out, “Piri says Lavaja Canyon is going to erupt. We need to get to the surface now. As you would say, my friend Viccus: Do now, talk later.”

Polup understood all too well and did not wait for further plans or discussion. With Vic’s free hand on the fin of his bublett, the anemonite sage shot upward so quickly that Vic, whose mouth had been open to argue, did not have a chance to utter a word before he was out of range. The wounded young man left a trail of bright blood in his wake from the bandaged spear wound.

A low sound rumbled through the water and a moment later curtains of lavaja spewed up from several thermal vents at once.

Freed of their heavy belts, Gwen and Tiaret also swam upward with all possible speed. Tiaret was a respectable swimmer by now, but her teaching staff slowed her despite her strong strokes. She would not let go, however, even though it meant she lagged behind. Ronra in the remaining anemonite bublett circled back so that the girl from Afirik could grab hold with her other hand and be towed forward.

Lyssandra sensed the brewing eruption and turned to swim toward the corral and pens where the animals were kept. “I will set the sea creatures loose. Do not wait.”

Sharif turned, looking frantically for Lyssandra, but the petite girl dove downward, racing off to the undersea corrals. He called after her, but when the sea temperature noticeably surged, he had to swim as hard as he could, with Piri bobbing and flashing next to him. At least Lyssandra was swimming away from the widening fissures.

Below, the ocean floor cracked and split open as more uncontained lavaja boiled up, burning brighter, spewing feathery jets into the water. The warmth they felt was no longer just magical. Geothermal heat shot through the water.

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