Transformation Read online

  The little shark’s death throes were too enticing for the ravenous, circling predators. A great white swam up and bit the small shark in half. A gray mako shark attacked the white to snatch the morsel away, leaving a bloody scar on the white’s snout. An orca rushed the white shark and bit its head off.

  After that, everything was a terrifying blur. Corwin huddled with Nia and Gobaith as writhing bodies bit and slashed each other just beyond the water wall. The orcas tore the large sharks to pieces, shaking their gigantic heads to make the prey in their jaws fall to pieces. The large sharks gobbled the small ones in one or two bites and then fought each other over the scraps.

  Corwin could feel the sheer strength of the orcas as they slammed up against the magical bubble wall. It was a good thing that most of the violence was hidden in a dark cloud of blood. Corwin already knew he wasn’t going to want to eat again for a while.

  And then it was over. The only survivors, to no one’s surprise, were the orcas. Their hunger fully sated, they swam away, leaving Corwin, Nia and Gobaith in the midst of a mess of shark soup.

  “I know we need fresh water to breathe,” Nia said softly, “but is it possible we could find better water than this before we let down our wall, Gobaith?”

  “Yes,” Corwin agreed. “I’d rather not be picking shark bones out of my shiny new gills.” Nor did he have any wish to taste the water just outside the sphere.

  Help me swim, and we can get some distance from this, Gobaith sent, but it will weaken us further.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to go far,” Corwin said.

  “No, the . . . remains would take time to spread in the sea,” Nia said. “And we don’t want to stay here long anyway. Other predators will want to come scavenging what’s left of the sharks.” She put her arm around Gobaith, between his head and his tentacles, and motioned for Corwin to do the same.

  Corwin hesitated. He had rarely touched the Farworlder. He wondered if Gobaith was slimy. But Corwin swam up to the other side of Gobaith and put his arm around the Farworlder, next to Nia’s. Gobaith’s skin was slightly warm and smooth, not at all what Corwin had expected. Corwin and Nia began kicking gently, moving the three of them slowly, and the bubble wall followed with them.

  Luckily, as Nia predicted, they didn’t have to swim very far to find cleaner water. Good, Gobaith sent. We can let down the wall now. The Farworlder and Nia both drooped, exhausted from holding up the sphere.

  Cold, fresh seawater flowed around them. Corwin was amazed how much it was like a breath of fresh air through his gills. The three of them rolled lazily in the water for a bit, just to regather their strength.

  Finally Corwin had recovered enough. Enough to realize the disturbing implications of what they’d just been through. “If that was a trap Ma’el set for us, how did he know exactly where to find us?” he asked. “This is a big ocean.”

  Nia frowned. “He must have seen through the unis that we were coming this way.”

  Or he’s watching us, Gobaith offered.

  Corwin looked around, but it was hard to make out anything in the murky depths besides the shimmer of distant schools of fish. “Do you think he’s nearby?”

  “He doesn’t have to be,” Nia said. “He can probably use all sorts of sea creatures as his spies. Especially if he can control them like the orcas and sharks.”

  “So you’re saying he could ambush us again at any time?” Corwin asked, his whole body chilling at the thought.

  “I’m afraid so,” Nia said. “Gobaith, could you possibly see ahead enough in the unis to tell us when Ma’el will attack again?”

  Gobaith emitted his strange, bubbling laughter. That wouldn’t be possible. It’s easy for Ma’el to disguise his intentions in ways that I can’t untangle. Even now, as I probe the unis with my thoughts, I can only see that there will be trouble ahead, but I can’t tell where, when or what it will be.

  Corwin sighed, making a cloud of bubbles around his cheeks. “So much for the three of us being able to trip him up,” he grumbled.

  “We can’t give up hope,” Nia said firmly. “It won’t be just the three of us once we find the sword. The oculus in Eikis Calli Werr’s hilt will bind our power, hopefully in a way Ma’el and Joab can’t defend against.”

  Suddenly a new worry struck Corwin. “What if Ma’el finds the sword first?” he asked.

  “There’s a good chance he doesn’t know about its power,” Nia replied. “My grand . . . my father told me about it privately. It’s not common knowledge in Atlantis. Most people just think of the sword as a pretty land-dweller artifact brought out for ceremonies and parades.”

  Corwin’s gut tightened as he had a sickening suspicion. “If Ma’el has spies listening to us, he just found out about the sword, didn’t he? We just told him.”

  Nia glanced around nervously. “I hope not.”

  I don’t think Ma’el has “ears” anywhere close to us, Gobaith thought in response. But it’s best to say little about the sword from now on. Ma’el is still afraid of us, or he wouldn’t be setting traps. Therefore Nia is right. We shouldn’t give up hope.

  “Can we set up some sort of . . . sensing field, so that we can tell when Ma’el’s magic is at work in the area?” Nia asked.

  Our strength is needed to get us to Atlantis, remember? If we waste it searching for danger that might not come, then we will never get home at all.

  Nia sighed and shook her head. “Then I guess we just have to swim on blindly.”

  Corwin swam over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “That’s how we’ve been doing things all along, Nia. And we’ve survived this far, haven’t we? In my experience, with all the visions I had when I was a boy, trying to know the future has never done me or anyone else any good. And maybe that’s a good way to defeat Ma’el. If he doesn’t know our defenses because we don’t know our defenses, then he can’t plan ahead to counter us.”

  Nia laughed. “I’m so glad you’re with us, Corwin. You see the world so differently. You could find the smallest pearl in a colony of snapping oysters.”

  “My master Fenwyck always taught me to look for the easy money.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Nia said with another chuckle, “but thanks anyway.” She rested her head on his shoulder and let him hold her for a moment. No matter what dangers lay ahead, it made Corwin feel wonderful.

  At last, self-consciously, Nia pulled away. With an embarrassed smile, she asked Gobaith, “Should we keep going now?”

  I thought you’d never ask, Gobaith replied, but he wasn’t disapproving. The Farworlder swam ahead, though not as quickly as he had before.

  “If there aren’t any more attacks, will we have enough energy to get us to Atlantis, Gobaith?”

  I hope so.

  As they swam farther and farther from land, and the coastal shelf below them slanted down and down, Nia began to have a sense of how wide and vast the open sea was. She remembered how she’d once had dreams of being a wild mermyd, of escaping the social confines of Atlantis and just swimming free. But now she saw how empty and lonely the ocean was, despite all the wondrous life that swam in it. She was glad she hadn’t pursued that particular dream.

  “Are we there yet?” Corwin asked. “I’m getting tired.”

  Not much farther, Gobaith sent.

  Nia reached out with her senses and found the magnetic lines in the water and, more faintly, in the earth below. The lines were becoming a bit less parallel, a bit more chaotic. But many lines veered toward each other, converging toward a region just a league or two ahead. “There aren’t as many fish here, or other sea life,” Nia observed.

  Wise animals would avoid this place—it would confuse and disorient them. We must take care not to become disoriented ourselves.

  “You mean,” Corwin began, “that the direction sense that I got from joining with you will go away now?”

  Not go away, just become confused and unreliable.

  “Oh. So I’ll be back to normal, then.
Part of me, anyway.”

  Nia laughed. But her smile quickly faded as the water around her began to feel unsettled. It was moving, like one of the aerating currents that flowed around the circumference of Atlantis. It began to push her to the right, and it was picking up speed.

  “Am I imagining it,” Corwin asked, “or is there a reason I can’t seem to swim straight?”

  “It’s real,” Nia said, feeling the water carry her sideways. “Gobaith, is this part of the disorientation you talked about?”

  I don’t know . . . I . . . oh, no . . .

  The water current flowed even faster, and now Nia could barely swim against it. It was just like the tunnels in Atlantis. Which meant that she and Corwin would soon not be able to breathe, unless they found something to hang onto.

  With horrible, growing shock, Nia saw that a structure was forming in the vast region of water around them. It was similar to their magical wall, but enormous—reaching from the surface of the ocean far above, to the seabed far below.

  “Maelstrom!” Corwin cried. “It’s a giant whirlpool. Henwyneb once told me about these. Fishermen told him stories about how these could suck down whole ships that would never be seen again.”

  “Gobaith!” Nia shouted. “Is this caused by the transfer point?”

  No! It’s another trap set by Ma’el!

  The water was swirling faster and faster, and Nia couldn’t swim against it at all. By turning and tilting her head she could get some water flowing past her gills, but it took all her concentration.

  A familiar red serpentine shape appeared in the middle of the whirlpool. “Of course,” Corwin growled bitterly. “It’s the kraken. Ma’el’s favorite pet. Why am I not surprised?”

  The kraken screamed, a sound that reverberated underwater, sending shivers through Nia’s bones. “We’ve stopped the kraken many times before,” Nia said, trying to keep her courage up. “I’m sure there’s something we can do. Isn’t there?”

  “I need sunlight!” Corwin replied. “Only the sun stops it. There’s no sunlight down here.”

  “Can’t you summon sunlight like you did in King Vortigern’s castle?”

  “I made a burning glass between my hands that time. Even if I can get my hands into position, we’re moving so fast I don’t think I could aim at the kraken very well.”

  The false sunlight would be weakened by the water, Gobaith sent, so such a spell may not be the best use of our energy.

  Nia saw Corwin moving his arms, trying to get them into a position to do something. Apparently, the kraken saw it too, because it lunged toward Corwin. The kraken grew a scarlet tentacle out of its neck, and the new limb wrapped itself around Corwin, pinning his arms to his side. The kraken grew another two tentacles. It lunged across the whirlpool at Nia and wrapped its new limbs around her, one around her arms, the other around her mouth. At first she was afraid it might cover and hold down her gills, but the kraken let her breathe. Of course, she thought. Ma’el wants us alive if he can manage it. Maybe we should just let the kraken take us to Atlantis.

  No! Gobaith sent to her, as a fourth appendage grew out of the kraken and wrapped itself around the Farworlder. I have looked into the unis. We must not give Ma’el this chance to capture us!

  But we’re as helpless as babies, Nia thought in despair. What else can we do?

  Chapter Three

  What can I do? What can I do? Corwin wondered. It was clear that the kraken wasn’t going to swallow them whole this time, but the myriad little creatures that made up the tentacle around his chest and arms were itching his skin fiercely, as if they were nibbling at him. He wanted to scream, kick, do something. But he didn’t have any clever ideas, and there were no pithy lessons from his late master Fenwyck that would apply to this situation at all. Fenwyck never talked about “when you’re caught by monsters.” Only about “when you’re caught by angry shop owners.”

  Corwin needed sunlight to get the kraken to disintegrate, but daylight was impossibly far away. He looked up toward the ocean surface, where tiny glimmers of sunlight danced. Corwin didn’t have nearly enough strength to swim up there, dragging Nia and Gobaith and the kraken with him. He’d have to be as big as the kraken itself to do that. I don’t think I can change shape that much.

  Nia seemed to be following his thoughts—she was also gazing up toward the surface. She looked at him as if to speak, but the kraken’s tentacle was still over her mouth.

  Then her thoughts came very clearly to his mind. Corwin, your mouth is free. I want you to make this sound. A noise followed that was a squeal descending into a mountainous moan—like the whale song they had heard earlier, only higher in pitch.

  “I can’t make that kind of noise,” Corwin answered, baffled. “Why? What will it do?”

  Try. Please.

  I will help, Gobaith sent.

  Corwin had no idea what Nia was up to. But he’d trusted her before and she’d saved his life. And at least it was something to do. He opened his mouth and did his best to perform the strange bellow. The sound he made was somewhere between a gargantuan belch and the scream of a frightened horse.

  Very good. Do it again.

  Corwin sighed. Gathering all the air he could through his gills, he did. This time the sound was more like the lowest note he could sing, sliding up to one of Nag’s most annoying screeches. When finished, he shouted at Nia, “So what is that?”

  It’s the cry of an infant whale in distress, she responded.

  “What possible good—”

  JUST DO IT! AGAIN!

  So Corwin continued to utter the noises, though his lungs and throat weren’t used to such stress. Even yelling over the crowds at county fairs didn’t take this much lung power and vocal range. He had the feeling Gobaith was assisting him, using his belly muscles to squeeze the lungs just so, helping him with mouth and tongue position. Corwin wondered if this call was meant to frighten the kraken or if it would bring back the sharks, looking for an easy meal. Would the sharks eat the kraken? Maybe the big basking sharks would. But the cry of an infant whale wouldn’t interest basking sharks, would it?

  The kraken was watching the entire time, as if fascinated with the noise. Corwin wondered if it was really Ma’el looking out through those strange, empty eyes, or if the kraken had some minuscule mind of its own. The kraken seemed to come to some decision, and it began to grow another scarlet tentacle—probably to shut Corwin up.

  Suddenly, the water around them rumbled with a bone-rattling, rolling bellow. A vast, dark shape cut through the swirling water below them as if the whirlpool were no impediment at all. As the thing swam by again, closer, Corwin saw that it was a whale. But bigger than any whale he’d ever seen. It was bigger than any of the houses in Carmarthen. Its back was blue, only somewhat darker than the water around them.

  Do the call one more time, Nia’s thoughts came to Corwin.

  “I was calling that?” Corwin asked in amazement. But he took one more deep breath and uttered the moaning squeal.

  The great blue whale swam beneath them all, turning on its side to eye Corwin as it passed. It continued on without stopping. “I don’t think it’s convinced I’m a baby whale.”

  Just wait.

  The whale had circled around and was coming back at them very fast. Corwin couldn’t believe that anything that massive could move so swiftly. Before he had time for another thought, the whale’s back rammed up into them. Corwin, Nia, Gobaith and the kraken were all being carried up and up on the whale’s back. The kraken wriggled and writhed and shrieked in protest, but because of their speed, the water pressed down on them like a vice. They were all held firmly to the whale’s back.

  Let out your breath, Corwin! Nia commanded. Don’t hold air in your lungs. It could kill you.

  Corwin breathed out in a long stream of bubbles as the whale rose. My own breath could kill me? The ocean sure is a strange place. There’s so much I need to learn—if I survive long enough.

  With a last burst of speed,
the blue whale breached the surface and arced up over the water. Corwin took a deep gasp of air and then smiled in the bright afternoon sunlight. Again, Corwin was amazed at the power and strength of the whale as almost all of its body came out of the water before the head splashed back down with a mighty crash. Two great walls of water were flung up on either side of its jaws. The whale blew steam and water out of a hole in its back, higher than any fountain Corwin had ever seen.

  The kraken screamed, a chorus of millions of tiny mouths wailing, and then it exploded, covering all of them with its red liquid. Then it flowed off down the whale’s corrugated back, turning into normal seawater as it returned to the ocean.

  Corwin lay a moment on the whale’s back, hoping the great blue wasn’t planning on going anywhere right away. He needed a rest. Nia was studying the pattern of scars on the whale’s thick hide.

  “This is amazing!” she said. “This is the same whale who would sing at events in Atlantis. Did Ma’el set you loose, old girl? How lucky for us! Corwin, this whale sang at the last Trials when my cousin . . . my cousin Garun . . .”

  “Won the right to be Avatar,” Corwin finished for her.

  “Yes.” Nia hung her head. “And the chance to be murdered by Ma’el and Cephan,” she added, softly.

  Corwin could feel the sorrow in her heart. “Garun was the one who should have been joined to Gobaith, not us.”

  “Yet here we are,” Nia sighed.

  It felt strange to be lying on the whale’s back as though he were a seal basking on a rocky island. Looking around, Corwin noticed that there was no land in sight. “Where are we?” he asked. “How much farther is the transfer point to Atlantis? And how are we going to get there if Ma’el keeps setting traps for us? Hey—where did Gobaith go?”

  I’m here. Gobaith’s round head bobbed up out of the water beside the whale. When the kraken exploded, it threw me a little ways away. I’ve never flown so high. I wish I had more time to study that so I could do it again.