The Tree of Water (7 page)

“I had no idea Kingston Harbor was so busy,” Ven said, looking overhead at the surface. Boats and ships of every shape and size passed over frequently now, darkening the surface with their shadows. The seaweed was thicker farther out from shore. Fish swam by in schools, pausing long enough to stare at them, then swam on.

They stopped frequently to rest. Finally Amariel turned to both boys.

“You're working far too hard,” she said. “You're fighting the sea. Don't be surprised when the sea wins. If you want to survive down here, you need to learn to trust the drift. You weigh so much less here in the Deep than you do in the upworld. The tide is going out, which means the drift is pulling you naturally out to sea. Hold still a moment. Let it pull you with it. Take a look around you, then close your eyes.”

Ven exhaled, then looked to Char, who nodded.

When I relaxed my muscles, I could see what she meant.

Now that we were away from the shoreline, the tug of the sea was more gentle, less frightening than in the breaking waves. The air stone was filling my lungs without effort, which still felt unnatural in the water. I closed my eyes and let the drift carry me forward for a few seconds.

Amariel is right.

Trusting the drift, allowing it to carry you, makes traveling beneath the waves so much easier than trying to swim against the current.

But I can't help it.

I'm Nain, a Son of Earth. I have a very hard time putting my trust in the sea.

Especially after hearing that wish thing.

“Now open your eyes.”

The boys did as they were told.

Ven looked around. The seaweed that had been beneath their feet a few moments before was gone. They were hovering over some broken barrels and a long piece of slime-covered rope in the sand.

“Crikey,” Char's thrum whispered.

“See?” said the merrow. “You've been making everything far harder than it needs to be, as always. Relax. We have a very long way to go, especially if you want to sleep on a skellig tonight. Now, let the drift carry you and come on.”

Ven and Char followed her.

Even with the discovery of riding the drift, it still took a very long time to get out of the harbor. The shafts of sunshadow were growing shallower and fewer, by the time Amariel waved them to the surface.

“Let's go up to the air,” she said.

The boys followed her. As they got closer to the surface, they could see the sky above had turned to colors of the sunset. Streams of red, orange, pink, and yellow light made the foamy top of the ocean look like clouds bursting with rainbows.

Have I ever seen anything so beautiful?
Ven thought as he swam through the colorful water.

He could feel Amariel chuckle. “Keep your eyes open,” she said. “I told you the sea has wonders that you could never imagine. Before you're on land again, you'll see glorious sights.”

“Yeah, a lot of green water, gray fish, and slimy seaweed,” Char said.

“You had best learn to keep your thoughts to yourself, Char,” Ven said. He could feel how angry his friend's comments had made Amariel. “Thrum keeps no secrets, it seems.”

“Sorry,” Char mumbled. “It really is pretty here, Amariel.”

“Hmmph.”

They broke through the surface of the water, and Ven found himself gasping. The air of the upworld was thinner than he remembered, unlike the rich, sweet air the elemental stone had been providing. It took them a moment to adjust. Then the merrow pointed back toward where the shore had once been.

“I thought you might like to see the lighthouse,” she said.

Ven looked off into the distance. Kingston's three great light towers were marvels of the Known World, Captain Snodgrass had told him. The tallest of the three stood at the opening of Kingston Harbor. The beams it threw guided ships into the safety of port from many miles away, often in some of the most terrible storms. He remembered the day they first sailed into Serendair's capital, how overwhelmed and excited he had been.

Now that giant tower was little more than a twig in the distance, far to the south. The bright flags that snapped merrily at the end of each pier in the harbor were nowhere to be seen.

Ven swallowed hard. He remembered how grand the harbor had seemed the first time he had seen it, sailing on the
Serelinda
with Char and Captain Snodgrass and the crew that had rescued him from the sea. There were so many people scrambling over the wharf, unloading cargo from hundreds of ships, just like the ones he had seen passing overhead, that the harbor looked like a giant anthill.

Now, as he floated in the sea beyond it, the harbor seemed like little more than a memory.

All around him was nothing but water for as far as he could see.

“Looks like the evening will be nice tonight,” Amariel said. Ven looked up into the sky, where the colors of the sunset were fading to a beautiful green-blue at the horizon. Stars were winking in the dark blue beyond. A burning ball of orange hung over the western horizon, looking ready to drop into the waves. “The sea lions will be moonbathing on the skelligs. We should hurry if we want to make it there before Total Dark.”

“Total Dark?”

“That's what merfolk call nightfall after sunset and before moonrise. On nights when the moon is visible before the sun goes down, it's called a Brazen Moon.'”

My mother had used that word a good deal when I was back in Vaarn, and never in a good way. “Brazen” in her mouth meant cheeky or rude, something or someone that did not know its place, or that spoke out of turn.

But I could tell by the sparkle in Amariel's eyes that “brazen” was a good thing.

A brave thing.

A thing that's not afraid to be wherever it wants to, whether it is supposed to or not.

A lot like Amariel herself.

It's strange how so many words have different meanings on the land and in the sea.

“How far to the skelligs?” Char asked.

The merrow pointed north along the coast.

“If you squint you might be able to see them in the distance,” she said. “Of course, I keep forgetting that humans—
and
Nain—seem almost blind when compared to the sharpness of merfolk sight. Follow the coastline to the horizon. Eventually you will be able to see them.”

“It's getting dark,” Char said, nervously looking into the sky.

“Come on,” Amariel said. “We'll travel much faster under the water.” She dove into the waves.

“Got your air stone?” Ven asked Char as he patted his vest.

Char felt around in his pocket.

“I think so. The pebbles are still there. It should be wedged at the bottom of 'em.”

“Let's go, then. If you have a problem breathing, just head back to the surface and I'll catch up with you.”

“Right,” said Char.

The two boys followed the merrow into the depths.

The gloriously colored shadows of the sunset were all but gone from the green water of the sea now. Ven fixed his eyes on Amariel's multicolored tail as it swept through the waves, struggling to see in the darkening water. He tried to keep his mind clear of thrum, but he could not drive the words of the fisherman from his thoughts.

The ocean is dark and frightening enough in daylight. You don't want to be caught out there after the sun goes down—it will make every nightmare you ever had seem like the pleasantest of dreams, believe me
.

Even without being able to see him, he could feel Char's nervousness beside him as he swam.

“Try to stay calm,” he thought to his best friend. “Let the drift carry you if you can.”

There were no words in the thrum of Char's answer, but Ven caught the meaning all the same.

After what seemed like forever, the merrow stopped in the drift, turned and hovered there.

“Now to the air,” she said.

The boys followed her up.

They broke the surface together, gasping in the thin air of the upworld. Then they gasped again.

Rising out of the darkness just beyond them was a small mountain of black stone wrapped in thin white fog. The sun had left the sky, leaving only the faintest blue at the horizon. The last lingering light caught the gleaming slopes of the skellig, making them shine eerily in the darkness.

A terrifying howl was echoing off the caves and canyons of the tooth-like rock. It sent shivers through Ven, who was already trembling from the cold of the sea.

The merrow didn't seem to notice.

“This one is Skellig Elarose,” she said matter-of-factly. “It's named for a type of undersea flower that grows on its rock roots below the surface. You'll see a lot of elaroses on the coral reef. The smaller one farther out near the reef is Skellig Lilyana. It was named for a merrow who was crowned Sea Queen once. She was from my school. We were all very proud.”

“Once?” Char asked. “How often does a Sea Queen get crowned?”

“A new one gets crowned at the beginning of each Summer Festival,” Amariel said. “The Sea King and Queen only reign during the Festival. The ocean is far too big to have one king and queen all the time.”

“Amariel, what is that horrible wailing?” Ven tried to see through the mist that was wrapping the skellig in a foggy veil, but the waves kept whacking him in the face, blurring his vision.

The merrow spat out a thin stream of seawater.

“Sea lions,” she said. “They're pushing each other around, trying to get the best sleeping and moonbathing positions. They're in a
swell
mood tonight. We may have to slap a few around. Great. See, this is what happens when you come late. Oh well, let's get onto the beach.”

“Slap around?” Char whispered to Ven. Ven shrugged. He swam hurriedly after the merrow, who was disappearing into the mist around the base of the skellig, Char close behind.

The mist thickened the closer they came to the rocky roots of the skellig. Ven peered through the haze as they approached the sea mountain's shore and saw a wriggling mass of black, slick bodies writhing on the slanted ground. The horrible noise bounced off the mountain's upper faces, scratching against the inside of his water-swollen ears.

The merrow had already reached the skellig, and was dragging herself onto the shore.

“Come on!” she called. “It's pretty flat here—you should be able to hold on once you've beached yourselves.”

“
Beached
ourselves?” said Char aloud to Ven. “What are we now, whales?”

Ven was climbing ashore, following Amariel.

“No, I don't think whales can breathe underwater like we can,” he said, pulling himself onto the slippery black rock face. The slap of the waves all around him threatened to pull him back into the sea. He made a grab for a rocky outcropping, but it slid through his hands and he fell, dangerously close to the water's edge.

Only to find himself face-to-face with a pair of beady eyes and a set of whiskers.

A deep howling bark almost shattered his eardrums as the putrid smell of fish blasted up his nose.

“Get away, you blighter,” he heard Char shout from behind him.

“Careful,” the merrow cautioned as she crawled closer. “He can bite your nose off.”

“Easy,” Ven said to the shiny animal as it waddled closer. “Down, boy.”

“Yeah, that'll work,” the merrow said sarcastically. “Hold still.” She rolled onto her side. Then, with lightning speed, she wrenched her lower body around and slapped the sea lion directly across the face with her tail.

The beast wiggled backward, barking and whining in pain.

“Shove off,” the merrow ordered. To add emphasis, she let out an earsplitting sound, part bark, part howl, that rattled off the peaks of Skellig Elarose. The sea lion froze in shock.

The merrow spat in its eye.

The sea lion's aggressive bark withered into a whimper. It turned and ran awkwardly away, its flippers slapping against the rocky shore as it retreated.

Amariel stretched out on the beachfront.

“Warn your friends,” she called after the sea lion. She yawned and stretched, then put her webbed hands behind her head and grinned at the boys, her porpoise-like teeth gleaming in the night. “I'm guessing they won't bother us again, but sea lions, as I already noted, are stupid. You might want to get to sleep as quickly as you can. The moon will rise soon, and once it does, they become calm and happy. Sea lions are in love with the moon.”

“Good idea,” Ven said. “Thanks for the rescue, Amariel. Good night.”

“Don't mention it. Good night, Chum.”

Char, who was wet and shivering with cold, only nodded.

By the time the moon rose over the wave-swept island, the only sound howling around the skellig's peaks was the whine of the wind.

And the crash of dark waves.