Ascension Page 3

  Nia bit her lip. “Apparently it’s not as important as being . . . whatever Garun is,” she muttered.

  Cephan shook his head. “We have another saying Down Below: ‘The ways of the elders are as twisted as a narwhal’s tusk.’ I think they’ve made a big mistake. However, the Bluefins’ loss may be my gain.” He paused, and his eyes took on a strange glint. “I was chosen to compete for the Stingray Clan,” he said.

  “You were? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Oh, Cephan, congratulations!” Nia hugged him around the neck without even stopping to think.

  “Easy there!” Cephan said, as he was nearly pushed back against a Farworlder crèche. Nia moved back, blushing like crazy at what she’d just done. Then, as the hair on Cephan’s forehead floated upward, Nia noticed a long, red scar along his hairline.

  “Cephan, what happened?” Nia reached up, but Cephan gently guided her hand away.

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “I hit my head against the edge of a filtration tube. I just wasn’t watching where I was going. It still stings a little. But my physician says it will be fine in time for the competition.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Nia said, relieved. Then a new thought struck her. “I don’t know what I’ll do during the trials. My family loyalty should make me want Garun to win, but I can’t help being happy that you have a better chance of winning.”

  Cephan’s smile faded slightly. “I don’t know if you’re right about that,” he said. “Garun still must have a better chance, considering that your clan has a former Avatar as its elder.”

  “The Councils aren’t supposed to be biased,” Nia said. “Even if mermyds can be, when a mermyd joins with a Farworlder it’s supposed to make them both wise.”

  “So they say. But who knows how much one mind dominates the other? Only the Avatars can speak. Perhaps it has all been a giant hoax, and it’s really just the mermyds who rule.”

  “Cephan! That’s disrespectful,” Nia teased. “I’m surprised your clan chose you when you swim around talking like that.”

  Cephan lifted his head proudly. “They had very good reason to choose me,” he said.

  “I’m sure they did,” Nia said. A frown tugged at her lips as she thought about how much she still didn’t know about Cephan’s life when they weren’t together. “Um . . . like what?” she asked.

  Cephan bit his lip. “I can’t say,” he blurted out.

  Nia’s eyes widened. “But Cephan, you have to tell me now,” she begged.

  Cephan looked at her, obviously torn. Then he glanced around them, even though no one was there aside from the infant Farworlders. “You remember I said that nobodies and nothings can hide amazing secrets?” he asked, a note of excitement entering his voice.

  “You aren’t a nobody, Cephan,” she chided him. “At least, not to me,” she added, wondering if she was being too forward. “So, what’s your secret?” she pressed.

  “I have a second job besides tending the filtration tubes.”

  Nia waited, but he didn’t go on. “That’s it? Many mermyds do more than one thing,” she said.

  Cephan sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s a very significant job, the only one of its kind in Atlantis. It’s a job that proves me highly responsible and capable and trustworthy.”

  “So . . . what is it?” she prodded.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Nia burst out laughing and covered her mouth to keep from spitting bubbles at him. “Can’t tell me? This is more elaborate than your usual jokes, Cephan.”

  Cephan leaned close. “It’s not a joke. I can’t tell you. But maybe . . . maybe I can show you.”

  “Oh?”

  He paused. “I really shouldn’t, you know. But it’s so important to me that you know everything about me. And I know I can trust you.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than to her now. “But you have to be willing to do a very brave thing,” he said finally. “It could be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Nia asked, raising her brows in disbelief.

  “You’ll have to come with me to the Lower Depths.”

  “Oh. I see.” Most noble mermyds didn’t venture below the Grand Marketplace level of the city, unless their work demanded it. Nia knew her parents would have absolute spasms if she suggested she might take a trip there. But she could find a way to get away with it. “Well, how can I claim to be a good palace guard if I can’t face a little danger?” Nia asked. “Besides, I would love to know what this secret job is!”

  “That’s the Nia I know.” Cephan moved closer and leaned in to kiss her cheek. Nia felt the water around them warming up considerably. Cephan had kissed her—finally! She almost forgot the disappointment of last night in the excitement of this moment.

  He pulled back, staying within inches of her. “Meet me this evening, next to the pearl shop in the market,” he told her, his hands still cupping her face. “You can tell your parents you need to buy something to wear to the celebration party after the Trials. I’ll guide you from there.”

  Nia nodded, and then she became aware of a soft, high-pitched cry coming from all the little Farworlders. She moved out of Cephan’s grasp and turned to stare at them. “What’s wrong with them?” she asked, confused.

  “Can’t you tell? I am receiving a mental image now—they are upset by seeing their favorite nanny so close with someone else,” Cephan joked. Cephan was one of the few friends to whom Nia had revealed her secret, and even he teased her about it.

  “Oh, stop!” Nia said. “Go, and I’ll meet you later.”

  Cephan gave her a heart-melting smile. “I’ll be waiting.” He turned and swam away with powerful grace. The turbulent eddies his tail made in the water swirled around her, tantalizing her skin.

  Nia watched him go, envious that he would be in the Trials, and realizing that it meant she probably wouldn’t see him much for a while. Was that why he was choosing now to kiss her and to reveal parts of his life she hadn’t known about before? Was he worried that it was their last chance to be close before he’d be too caught up in a new life? Nia shook her head. Her mother would say that she was “searching for stones in a pearl shop” and that she should stop it at once. She and Cephan had been getting closer all the time lately, and this was the natural next step. In fact, if he did become an Avatar, maybe he would even want her to become his . . .

  The wailing of the infant Farworlders became impossible to ignore. Nia swam among them. “What is it? What is it?” she kept asking. But, of course, they couldn’t tell her. All their food bags were full, all their sand beds were sound. Nia couldn’t imagine what was wrong. Sometimes mermyd infants became cranky for no reason—could it be the same for a Farworlder? Maybe playing with Cephan’s glass sphere tired them out, or they want to play with it more, that’s all, she thought. But why won’t they go to sleep? I could be training, like Garun, instead of being stuck here listening to this noise. Why wasn’t I chosen for the Trials?

  Chapter Three

  “Go,” Nia said, slapping the dolphin messenger gently on the tail. The dolphin eagerly swam away, Nia’s message to Callimar clutched between its teeth. Then Nia slipped out through a window. She had left a kelp note for the servants to tell her parents she would miss dinner with them, as she had gone to the market to meet Callimar. Nia hoped Callimar would agree that they had indeed gone to the marketplace together this evening, if anyone asked. Nia’s parents generally didn’t concern themselves much with her whereabouts, however, as long as she arrived home by a reasonable time. They were always too caught up in their own activities.

  Nia swam through back alleys from her home near the Bluefin Palace to the market district. She hoped no one she knew would see her and wondered if she should have worn some sort of disguise. This sneaking around was hard, but Nia had to do this. She was so eager to see Cephan and to know what his secret was.

  Light streamed from the windows of other clan palaces as celebrations continued for their chosen representatives in the Trials. Nia swam past
the mother-of-pearl­faced palace of the Seabass and the black basalt fortress of the Orca, hearing music and laughter and cries of congratulations. She was so envious she could almost cry. But as Cephan told her once, the sea does not need more salt water, and so she held back her tears.

  The Grand Marketplace of Atlantis was in the very center of the city, at midlevel. Buildings were constructed on top of older buildings, since Atlantis could not expand outward. History seemed alive in the Marketplace, because it still had some of the colonnaded porticos and mosaic stone plazas from the ancient days, when Atlantis was on the surface and land-dwellers walked among mermyds.

  The Marketplace was full of exotic mystery, as well. Colorful booths made from silk draperies that had been retrieved from sunken ships could be found there. These booths often sold items from the land-dwellers’ world, things impossible to make in undersea Atlantis—glass bottles, fired clay pots and bowls, steel knives, cloth of all sorts, some already sewn into garments, jewelry of gold and silver and precious stones. Many of these things rotted or rusted not long after being recovered, which often made them more costly and all the more fashionable.

  During the hours of business, one could meet everyone and anyone in the Grand Marketplace. It was the heart of the city, which was why it was natural that Nia could encounter Cephan there.

  It was late for business hours, however, and as Nia swam down into the Marketplace, she noted there were few people. Less of a crowd to hide in.

  The recent fashion was to have booths in the shape of giant clam shells—which made opening and closing them for security quite simple. But this evening, most of the booths were closed, giving the Marketplace the appearance of a sleepy tide-pool. The pearl-seller was still open, but the owner was preparing to close up and was warily eyeing the one mermyd perusing her display.

  Nia recognized the mermyd bending over the display table—it was Cephan, of course. As Nia came up beside him, he turned and said, “Here she is! I told you she’d be along soon.”

  The pearl-seller grunted, eyes narrowed.

  “Cephan?”

  “Listen, my love, I think Gathos has a better selection, don’t you? These are too flawed, too dark. Perhaps I’d consider them if they had a bit more luster. Or a more reasonable price. Come along, darling, let’s look someplace else.” Cephan took Nia by the arm and, with powerful strokes of his tail, led her away. Behind them, the pearl-seller slammed her shop shut.

  “What was that about?” Nia asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

  “Well, I had to have some reason to be loitering around her booth—so many merchants think we bottom-dwellers have no money and are just wasting their time. So I told her that I was searching for a troth-token for my beloved. I don’t think she believed me until you swam up.”

  Nia couldn’t help wonder whether Cephan really did think of her as his beloved. She could barely keep her gills from fluttering at the thought. “Why wouldn’t anyone believe you? You are the chosen of your clan,” she said.

  “But how would she know what I was?” he asked.

  “It just seems that all the clans are shouting the names of their winners from their highest towers.”

  “I’m sure that can’t be music to your ears,” Cephan sympathized. “Especially hearing Garun’s name. Well, the Stingrays aren’t quite so vocal, I guess.”

  He led Nia to a weighted drapery that ran along the back of a little-used plaza. Pulling aside the drapery, Cephan revealed a wall, at the top of which were small, square windows from which bubbles spewed merrily. “Do you know where we are?”

  “Yes,” Nia said. “These are the oxygenation tunnels that aerate the water that goes down into the—”

  “Into the Lower Depths. Exactly.” Cephan positioned himself before a metal door in the wall. Carved in the stone above the door were the words BEWARE—DO NOT ENTER—WORKERS ONLY. Cephan reached into a depression in the door and turned a scallop-shaped knob.

  “Cephan, what are you doing?” Nia cried. “These tunnels are dangerous!”

  “It’s all right. I’m a worker.” He flashed a brief smile. “Now. We must be quick. Hang on to me, tight as you can, no matter what.” Cephan grasped Nia’s arms and pulled them around his waist. With his left hand he shoved the door open, and then he swam in, pulling Nia in with him.

  It was pitch dark inside, and the current in the tunnel was tremendously swift, sucking them downward. Nia felt her arms slipping from Cephan’s waist. Cephan grabbed onto a metal rung in the side of the tunnel and held her close. The bubbling water roared past Nia’s ears, and she hung on to Cephan with every muscle. It would have been more romantic if she hadn’t been so terrified.

  “Breathe!” Cephan yelled in her ear. “Open your gills and breathe!”

  Nia’s gills had closed with fear, but she tentatively let them open—and then the swift water forced them open, shoving superoxygenated water through them. Within seconds, Nia felt energized, more awake than she’d been her entire life. Her fingers and toes began to tingle. Her eyes opened wide.

  “That should be enough,” Cephan said. “Now hold your breath. We’re going for a ride, and the speed could make it hard to take in air properly.” He let go of the rung, and suddenly the two of them were carried headlong down the tunnel, racing with the swift flowing water.

  This was a greater thrill than the currents she had ridden around the rim of Atlantis as a child. The tunnel dipped downward, and they plummeted toward the ocean floor. It bent horizontal again, and they zoomed along faster than any mermyd could swim. It was wonderful . . . until Nia realized she was beginning to run out of breath.

  They stopped, jarringly, as Cephan caught another rung on the side of the tunnel. “Time to breathe again!”

  Nia opened her gills again and felt her head go light as the bubbling water rushed in. She noticed, now that her eyes had adjusted, that there were dim phosphorescent glows spaced evenly along the tunnel. One was right over Cephan’s head, marking where the rung was. So that’s how he can find them. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her limbs were shaking.

  “Ready to go again?” Cephan asked.

  “I think I’m getting dizzy.”

  “That’s normal. Enjoy it. One more run, and then we’re there. Ready? Here we go.” Cephan let go of the rung, and the water took them again.

  This time, Nia found the headlong rush pleasant, as the swift water spun her and Cephan around and around. They held each other tightly. The bubbles roared in her ears and sang in her bloodstream. Her skin felt like it was humming. Her fears temporarily vanished in the overwhelming sound and sensation.

  It all ended with a jerk as Cephan grabbed another rung. “Whoa, I nearly missed our stop. Hang on.” He let go of her to use both hands to open a door. Nia’s hands started to slip from his waist again, but Cephan caught her arm just in time and pulled her through. As she went through the door, Nia noticed a different phosphorescent marking above the doorway, larger than those above the rungs. Aha. And that’s how he finds a door.

  Cephan slammed the access door shut behind them. The normal water outside the tunnel seemed so still and quiet, it was eerie. It took her gills some moments to adjust to regular breathing. “Amazing!” was all she could say. Then she noticed a strange, mineral, fishy taste to the water and made a face. “What is it that I’m tasting?”

  “Well, we don’t have the freshest water down here in the Lower Depths. But we like to say, ‘Our water may be thicker, but it has more flavor.’”

  “I . . . see. Or taste, rather.”

  “No time to hang around. This way.” Cephan took her arm again and led her along a dim corridor that had clearly not been meant for public travel. The walls were bare, undressed stone, and pipes ran along the ceiling.

  As they progressed, Nia felt the water getting warmer. It gently pulsated around her. She heard a low, distant thrumming, deep as a whale-song, but more regular. “What is that sound? And why does the water feel so strange?”
<
br />   “We’re getting nearer the engines that drive most of the works of Atlantis. Just below us, on the ocean floor, there is a great rift with powerful steam vents shooting out of it.”

  “I remember learning about those vents in Early Academy,” Nia said. “The rift is a great crack in the earth that splits the seabed in two. Some say it goes all the way through the world. It bleeds liquid stone, heating the sea around it and adding minerals to the water that keep us healthy.”

  “You were a good student,” Cephan said. “But the vents do more than just heat the water. The steam and hot water that comes out of the geysers is so fast and powerful that it can drive the great engines that run the filtration and aeration tunnels of the city. Of course, the works are primitive compared to what the Farworlders were used to on their planet, but it’s better than anything the land-dwellers have.”

  Nia stared at Cephan in surprise. “I’d always thought it was the Council’s telekinetic magic that kept things running. How do you know so much about the Farworlders and the land-dwellers?”

  Cephan grinned. “I told you about my cousin—he knows about the land-dwellers. As for the Farworlders and the Councils . . . well, you’ll find out in a minute. This way.” He led her up a sloping tunnel to the right and opened a door at the end of the tunnel.

  The plaza they swam out onto was almost a mirror of the Great Marketplace, only smaller and more cluttered. Here there were booths built from old masts or ship timbers and covered with ropy fishnet or sailcloth instead of silk. The taste of fish, seaweed, scallops, and shrimp on the water was nearly overwhelming. It reminded Nia that she had skipped dinner.

  Mermyds bustled back and forth with baskets full of shellfish and wrapped filets and bunches of seaweed, shooing away the clouds of little fish that nipped at the baskets, hoping for a stray morsel. Other mermyds swam past carrying spears and lanterns that glowed with a red light.