Transformation Read online

  Contents

  Chapter One

  “Is this going to hurt?” Corwin asked with more than a little trepidation.

  Chapter Two

  “Tell us your idea!” Corwin demanded, his gills flapping furiously.

  Chapter Three

  What can I do? What can I do? Corwin wondered. It was clear that the kraken wasn’t going to . . .

  Chapter Four

  orwin felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Energy was drained from his very core . . .

  Chapter Five

  Corwin cursed his luck. He’d been thinking about kissing Nia and had thought she might not mind.

  Chapter Six

  What’s happening? What’s happening? Gobaith sent. Corwin was thrilled to hear the young . . .

  Chapter Seven

  Corwin coughed at the foulness of the air in the dry room. He would have liked to have been more formal in greeting the woman who’d raised Nia, but . . .

  Chapter Eight

  “So, what are we waiting for?” Corwin asked softly, as Nia peered around the corner again.

  Chapter Nine

  “We were betrayed,” Corwin said, balling his fists. “Oh, don’t blame sweet Eldoris,” Ma’el said.

  Chapter Ten

  “Is it possible?” Corwin asked as the sound of the scream trailed off through the water.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well aimed, Gobaith,” Corwin murmured as he wiped the water from his eyes.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nia felt someone shake her shoulder. “Nia! Nia! Are you okay?”

  Epilogue

  The old man, with his long white beard and pointed, wide-brimmed hat, approached the . . .

  Other Books by Kara Dalkey

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  “Is this going to hurt?” Corwin asked with more than a little trepidation. The warmth of the late summer sun beat down on his bare shoulders, but he was still shivering—and not just from the chilly seawater of Carmarthen Bay swirling below his waist.

  “I don’t know,” Nia replied, a hint of concern in her aquamarine eyes. She brushed back a long strand of pale, silvery hair from her face. “I’ve never tried this kind of transformation.”

  That’s not very encouraging, Corwin thought. “Because I remember watching your evil mermyd king Ma’el transform his fish tail into two legs,” he said, “and he screamed a lot.”

  Nia glanced away a moment. “Yes, well, that was a bigger change than what Gobaith and I have planned for you.”

  “Ma’el is a lot more powerful than you and Gobaith. And he still screamed,” Corwin pointed out.

  Nia sighed. “We’re only going to help your gills to show themselves. And change your lungs a little. And give you webbing on your hands and feet, if you want.”

  “So basically, you’re going to turn me into a frog,” Corwin said, only half joking. “I’ve heard witches do that, you know.”

  Nia curved her arm under the water and sent a huge splash over him. “I’m not a witch! And you’ll be a mermyd, not a frog. Whatever a frog is.”

  “Remind me to show you one someday.” The cool sea spray felt good on Corwin’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help noticing that Nia looked very pretty when she was annoyed. But he wasn’t really getting any more relaxed about all of this. He was terrified that the body he’d lived in—quite well, thank you—for the first sixteen years of his existence was about to be changed. Yes, he trusted Nia with his life. He was telepathically joined to her and had been for the three weeks since she had arrived on the shores of Wales. How could he not have grown to trust her? And he also trusted Gobaith, of course, the strange squidlike creature whose forebears had come from another world among the stars and who was also mentally joined to him and had magical power Corwin would have once thought was unimaginable. But Corwin was still scared out of his mind. He wasn’t about to show them just how scared, though.

  He heard a bubbling in the water beside him. Gobaith had surfaced, his round, blobby head bobbing on the water, his saucer-sized golden eyes staring at Corwin.

  Don’t be afraid, Gobaith “said” in Corwin’s mind. This will be easy.

  So much for hiding my feelings, Corwin thought. It was possible, with a certain kind of concentration, to keep Nia or Gobaith from knowing his emotions. But it didn’t always work. “I didn’t ask if it would be hard, Gobaith. I asked if it would hurt.”

  Nia frowned at him. “What’s a little pain to you? You said your late guardian Fenwyck used to hit you all the time. You survived that, didn’t you?”

  “That was different,” Corwin grumbled. The bruises, cuts and welts Fenwyck had delivered had healed quickly enough and Corwin was himself again afterward. These changes might stay with him forever. Would he even know who he was anymore? Well, really, did he know now?

  Most of his life, Corwin had been just a thief and county fair charlatan, helping Fenwyck do cheap “magic” tricks for the crowd. Then Fenwyck had gotten himself killed after trying to steal a silver chalice from King Vortigern, and Corwin had had to hide out from the Royal Guard. Corwin had almost gotten used to being a poor beachcomber when he had happened upon the shell that had contained Gobaith, and then Nia had entered his life. Nothing had been the same after that. Even what he knew of his identity had been shattered when Gobaith had informed him that the father he’d never known had been a mermyd and that Corwin was part mermyd himself.

  Nia, as she so often did, seemed to catch his thoughts. “Once you were a small boy. And now you’re an older, taller boy. You’ll never be that little boy again. Your body has already changed forever. And you won’t stay as you are now forever, no matter what. Some day you’ll get old and—”

  “All right! All right!” Corwin surrendered. “I didn’t say I was being reasonable.”

  That’s good, Gobaith thought. Because you aren’t.

  Nia put her hand on Corwin’s arm. “If we don’t change you, you can’t come with me to Atlantis to search for the sword we need to defeat Ma’el. Gobaith and I would have to leave you behind.”

  Corwin swallowed hard. She had touched on the one thing that bothered him more than pain and change. After the closeness he’d grown used to with Nia and Gobaith, being so distant from them would be almost unbearable. Especially since they had a dangerous and important duty ahead of them.

  Ma’el had killed the reigning Farworlder kings of Atlantis to get their oculae, the walnut-sized organs in their foreheads that gave them magical abilities. By implanting these oculae into his body, Ma’el had gained their power. Ma’el, along with Joab, the Farworlder he was mentally joined to, had taken over Atlantis and had plans to conquer the “dry-lander” kingdoms as well. Corwin, Nia and Gobaith had been able to stop him once. But they couldn’t completely defeat him. Not yet.

  Nia was pretty sure she knew how, though. She had told him about a sword forged in Atlantis that had a special name, Eikis Calli Werr. The sword was said to have an oculus in its hilt that gave it special powers. Eikis Calli Werr had been meant to be a gift to the first dry-lander king who could bring peace to the world. Instead, it had sunk with Atlantis long ago, when Atlantis had fled the warmongering dry-land kingdoms. And now it had to be used in war, because it was the one hope Nia, Corwin and Gobaith had of defeating Ma’el and Joab. If they could find it.

  “Are you sure you even know where this sword is?” Corwin asked, trying to give himself more time to gather his courage.

  Nia sighed. “Well, it didn’t come to these shores with my grand . . . with my father and me. So it must still be in the filtration tube where I last saw it. Or just outside of the tube hatch. If someone else hasn’t found it first.”


  “What’s a filtration tube?” Corwin asked, aware that he was grasping now.

  “It’s how Atlantis cleans its water.” Suddenly Nia scowled and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re stalling. Ma’el could be searching for the sword right now, and you’re holding us up because of a little fear.”

  Corwin stood a bit straighter, his cheeks flushing. “That’s not true. I just wanted to make sure . . . that we have a plan.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. What?”

  “Does that mean you’re ready to make the transformation?”

  “Of course,” Corwin said with a bravado he only wished he felt. “I couldn’t just let you two swim off by yourselves. Imagine all the trouble you would get into without me there to pull you out!”

  “Exactly,” Nia said with a knowing smile. She placed her hands at the sides of his neck and closed her eyes.

  Corwin let his eyes shut too and felt a searing pain as muscle tissue disconnected, reconnected, reformed and reshaped itself. I can do this, I can do this, he repeated to himself as he balled his hands into fists.

  Corwin felt Gobaith touch his mind, soothing him, taking away the pain, until all Corwin could feel was some discomfort and tightness around his throat.

  “There,” Nia finally announced. “It’s finished.” She removed her hands from his neck.

  Corwin reached up to feel what she’d done. Below his jawline, on either side of his neck, were three rows of new flaps of skin. They felt sort of like the shelflike mushrooms that grew on the sides of certain tree trunks. “How come my gills aren’t lacy and delicate like yours?” he asked.

  “Every mermyd’s gills are different,” Nia said with a shrug.

  “Can I breathe with these now?” Corwin tried sucking in air, but it took effort to keep the gill slits open as he breathed. Instead, he ended up gawping like a fish.

  “The gills aren’t made for air-breathing, silly,” Nia teased. “They won’t do much on land.”

  “Oh, right,” Corwin said, wondering when he would ever stop embarrassing himself in front of her.

  “Do you want me to try the webbing between your fingers now?” she asked.

  “No, actually, um . . .” He trailed off. “I think I’ll be able to swim just fine without that.”

  “You’ll swim slower,” she warned.

  “Well, we’re not running any races, are we?”

  Nia’s face became very serious. “We’re in a race against Ma’el,” she said. “The longer we let him recover, the more powerful he will become, and the more time he has to do damage to my people—if he hasn’t already completely destroyed them.”

  Corwin bowed his head, feeling like a real fool. Since getting to know Nia and seeing Atlantis through her thoughts, he’d gotten to know her people. And now that he knew he was part mermyd himself, he understood that the Atlanteans were really his people as well. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I guess I’m trying not to think about that.”

  “We have to think about it,” Nia said. “At least I have to,” she added, “since I’m the one who caused all their pain. I have to do what I can to set things right. Or die trying.”

  Corwin wanted to argue, as he often had in the past two weeks, to try to convince Nia that Ma’el’s sabotage wasn’t her fault. She shouldn’t blame herself that Ma’el used her—tricked her into helping him kill the Farworlder kings of Atlantis. But Corwin knew the argument was useless. Nia felt responsible and that was that. “Other than that last part about dying, I . . . understand. Let me try breathing with these things now. The sooner we know I can use them, the sooner we can go.” Corwin instinctively took a deep breath through his mouth and dove underwater. He breathed out. He breathed in—

  And came up choking, sputtering, coughing. Corwin waded back to the rocky shore and draped himself over a boulder as he gasped, “The gills aren’t working!”

  Nia waded up to him. “Silly, you can’t breathe in through both your mouth and your gills. I’m sorry, I should have warned you. I can see that this is going to take some practice.”

  Let me help you, Gobaith thought.

  Corwin felt mixed emotions. Gobaith was still less than one year old, according to Nia, and Corwin could remember how childlike Gobaith’s thoughts had been only three weeks ago. Even though Gobaith had grown and matured amazingly since then, it would take a lot of trust on Corwin’s part to put Gobaith in charge of keeping him from drowning. But what choice did he have?

  “Okay,” Corwin agreed, tentatively. “What should I do?”

  Come stand in this deeper water.

  Taking a few deep breaths to make sure his lungs were now working properly again, Corwin waded out to where Gobaith floated, waiting for him. “Here I am, little squid. Now what?”

  Just stand still. And before Corwin could say anything, Gobaith threw his smooth tentacles over Corwin’s shoulders and crawled and slithered up his back.

  “Hey! Hey! What are you doing?” It felt to Corwin like ten cold, clammy snakes were wrapping themselves around him.

  Gobaith settled himself between Corwin’s shoulder blades, tentacles wrapping around the boy’s arms and waist. Just getting comfortable. When you are ready, sit down in the water.

  “All right . . .”

  One more thing—One of Gobaith’s tentacles disengaged from Corwin’s arm and wrapped itself around his head, firmly closing over his nose and mouth. Now sit.

  “Mmmmph!” Corwin managed to get out, but he knew Gobaith wouldn’t let go until he had tried to breathe with the gills. So he lifted his legs and let himself sink below the surface. With Gobaith’s weight on top of him, Corwin quickly fell to the bottom.

  For a few moments, panic made Corwin’s heart race, and he was afraid he would suffocate at any moment. His gills flapped furiously, fluttering with fear. Moments passed, and moments passed. And then he was breathing. Not the sort of breathing he was used to, but his lungs were moving in and out, and he no longer felt the desperate need to surface.

  A curious silvery fish with stripes on its sides swam up. It gave Corwin and Gobaith a dubious stare and then dashed away. Corwin became aware of a number of creatures underwater. Crabs crawling among the rocks; flowerlike sea anemones; eels poking their heads out from crevices; an otter searching for a juicy clam; a seal chasing a school of tiny fish. It was all so amazing, Corwin didn’t think about breathing at all.

  I think he’s ready, Gobaith sent. Gently, carefully, the tentacles around Corwin’s face loosened and Gobaith swam aside.

  Nia swam down to him, her hair streaming behind her like a long, silvery banner. “How do you feel?” she asked, bubbles streaming up from her mouth.

  Corwin thought very hard before he answered—not about how he felt, but about how he could speak without mouth-breathing.

  In through the gills, out through the mouth.

  Corwin tried it. “I . . . feel . . . fine!” He laughed at the bubbles tickling his lips and nose. “This is great!”

  Nia smiled. She was as beautiful underwater as she was on land. Maybe even more beautiful, if that were possible. “Good. Then we should get started.”

  “Wait! Shouldn’t we take . . . something with us?”

  Nia tilted her head as her hands and arms gently fanned the water. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know . . . food, a weapon? Water?”

  Nia laughed out loud, arching her back. “Water? Water’s everywhere!”

  Corwin frowned. “I did notice that, but I can’t drink seawater.”

  Nia became more serious. “As a mermyd, you’ll see that you don’t need fresh water.”

  “I’m only part mermyd,” he reminded her. “What if it’s not the part that needs fresh water?”

  A strange expression came over her face. “Being only part mermyd shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “And besides, Gobaith and I will make sure you’re fine. As for food, the sea is full of it. We can catch it as we go—but I hope we won’t take long getting b
ack to Atlantis. We shouldn’t need many meals. And most land weapons are useless underwater.”

  Corwin still felt unprepared, but he could feel Nia’s urgency. And he was also genuinely eager to see Atlantis, not through Nia’s eyes but through his own. “Okay. Let’s go and give Ma’el another thrashing. Maybe he’ll be so scared to see me coming that he’ll just run, like King Vortigern did.”

  Nia smiled again, only this time it was like the sun coming out after many dreary days of rain. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  Corwin waded back to shore to gather the few belongings that were important to him—a threadbare tunic and his knife. It was a plain, ordinary short dagger, but it was good for prying open clamshells.

  Nag, the raven who had been Fenwyck’s familiar, was perched on a nearby rock, pecking at a stubborn mussel. “Well, old bird,” Corwin said. “I guess this is good-bye. Or maybe, even, farewell.”

  Nag looked up and tilted his head, as if to say, “So?”

  Corwin scowled. “Oh, why do I expect you to actually care? You never liked me, did you? You just saved Gobaith from the kraken as a lark, right?” Despite his tone, Corwin couldn’t bring himself to hate the bird anymore. Nag had saved Gobaith’s life, and he’d been a big help during all of their recent ordeals.

  “Raaaawk!” Nag cried, ruffling his feathers as if irritated and insulted.

  “All right, all right, I’m sorry. But do you think you could do me one more favor? Could you go and say good-bye to the old blind button-maker, Henwyneb, for me? No, I guess that’s asking a lot, even of a raven as smart as you.”

  Nag tilted his head again to regard Corwin a moment with the other eye. The bird clacked his beak, uttering something like, “Merk, merk,” and then he suddenly flew off. Strangely enough, Nag was heading in the direction of Henwyneb’s hut.

  Corwin shook his head, put his knife in his trouser pocket and slipped his tunic over his head. Then, with a last look at the shores of Carmarthen Bay, he dove back into the sea.

  * * *

  At last, Nia thought as Corwin swam up beside her. She had been only vaguely aware of how anxious she’d become over the last several days, wanting to be on her way home. Even if home was now a ruin, it was where she belonged. She felt a little guilty bringing Corwin along—there would be so much he needed to learn. But Corwin, in his own cocky way, had been right. She and Gobaith needed him, needed his magic power and strength and quick wits, if they were to have any chance of defeating Ma’el once and for all.