Ascension Read online

  But what? Nia wondered. If only there was someone I could ask. But it’s bad enough how no one believes me about the baby Farworlder. If I were to claim an adult Farworlder tried to join thoughts with mine . . . Nia rubbed her arms. The water was cooler as her basket rose farther out of the Lower Depths, but she did not think that was the only reason for the chill she felt.

  Chapter Five

  Nia lazily followed the Academy instructor around the circular room, hanging back in the school of mermyd students that swam in the instructor’s wake. It was important to keep moving in an Academy classroom; otherwise it would be all too tempting to fall asleep. The idea that a subject could be deadly dull was more than just a figure of speech to a mermyd.

  Her instructor, Master Zale, was the fishiest mermyd Nia had ever known. His eyes were huge and set wide apart. His face was long and narrow, and a finned ear stuck out from each side of his head. Now if he had a fin on the back and top of his head, Nia thought, he would scarcely need a body at all.

  “We are most fortunate,” burbled Master Zale, “in having the important events of the upcoming weeks to witness and discuss. The opportunity to see an Ascension will be invaluable to your understanding of the politics and history of Atlantis. As you witness the Trials and come to understand their purpose, you will gain insight as to how Atlantean government came to be the way it is, and why it is the best system for serving our citizens.”

  It had been two days since Nia had last seen Cephan. She hoped his training was going well, and that he hadn’t gotten into trouble for taking her to see the prisoners. Nia’s surprise appearance in the Starfish warehouse had delighted some of the workers there, and severely annoyed the overseer. Nia hadn’t gotten into any trouble, though, even when the officious overseer had insisted on taking Nia home and personally complaining to her parents. Tyra and Pontus had only sighed and told Nia she didn’t have to pull such pranks in order to get attention, and could she please behave herself while they went to her aunt and uncle’s home to help with Garun. Strangely, they hadn’t invited her to join them. In fact, they’d made it quite clear they didn’t intend for her to come, giving her a silly excuse for why she should stay behind. Apparently they just wanted to focus their complete attention on Garun.

  Garun, Garun, Garun. That was all she was hearing around her relatives lately. Nia was getting the impression Garun was not doing well in some of his training. Part of her felt smug, and she wanted to shout at them, See? You should have chosen me! But Nia knew that wouldn’t make any difference. So rather than stay at home and mope on a day when she didn’t have work at the nursery, Nia went to the Academy.

  Classes were informal in Atlantis after childhood—students could come to the Academy whenever they liked to hear lectures or use the library. Certain classes, such as mathematics or rhetoric, required attendance several days in a row. But this was political history, and Nia could easily just wander in to listen for a while.

  “As you have no doubt heard, each of the seven Trials,” Master Zale droned on as he wriggled around the room, “tests for a particular virtue prized in an Avatar. The First Trial, a swimming race, tests for overall health of the body. The Second Trial tests for will and stamina, as well as health. The Third Trial tests cleverness and teamwork. The Fourth and Fifth test problem solving and wisdom. The Sixth tests one’s connection to the numinous, one’s magic. And the last, of course, is the Riddle, which tests the ability to think creatively. No mermyd can excel at all of these, of course, which is why the Trials are a slow process of elimination.”

  “Excuse me, Master Zale,” Nia asked, “does this mean that if a mermyd does badly on, say, any two of the Trials, he might still have a chance for Ascension?”

  Master Zale turned his head and regarded Nia with his enormous eyes. “Ah. Lady Niniane, isn’t it? Of the Bluefin Clan?”

  All the other students turned to look at her, and Nia felt like a fish caught in a net. “Um . . . yes, sir.”

  “Well, I can understand your concerns,” Master Zale said. “You are thinking of your clan’s candidate, are you not? An interesting choice, he was. But no, circumstances do not change, young lady. Your candidate must not be among the six poorest in the field. If he is eliminated, for example, in the first two Trials, he cannot hope to become the Avatar.” Master Zale continued to address the class. “In this way, imperfections are avoided, and only those who are truly worthy are allowed to Ascend. The citizens of Atlantis are therefore guaranteed that their government is of the finest mermyds who will never falter or misuse their power.”

  Something rang false in the instructor’s words. If the Avatars are only the finest mermyds, Nia thought, then why is one of them imprisoned in the Lower Depths?

  “You mean to say a mistake has never been made in choosing an Avatar?” Nia blurted out.

  Zale blinked at her and rubbed his nose. “Never.”

  “No one has ever been forced to step down from the Council? They leave only by retirement?”

  Master Zale’s pale-green face began to flush an ugly blue. “Young lady, I don’t know what you intend by this line of argument. But it is as I have said. Atlanteans may put their full and complete trust in the High and Low Councils. The Farworlders would permit nothing less.” Then Master Zale turned his back on her and continued on with his lecture.

  He didn’t deny it outright, Nia realized. So maybe he knew about the prisoners. But just like Cephan, he’s not allowed to say anything. Nia felt as though she’d just learned something far more important than all the dry facts in Zale’s lecture. Atlantis is not quite the perfect and open place it seems, if there are truths people dare not talk about. Nia swam along silently at the back of the school, pretending to pay rapt attention to everything Master Zale said.

  “When an Avatar is selected in the Trials,” the lecturer went on, “we then proceed to the Naming. No one knows the origins of this ritual, or who the first pairing of Avatar and Farworlder might have been. There are some here at the Academy who accept that Poseidonis was the first, but that is under dispute. It is known that the Farworlders, upon reaching Earth’s ocean, chose from the native land-dwellers individuals with latent magical abilities similar and complementary to their own. From these chosen land-dwellers, the Farworlders created the mermyd race to live beside them in the sea.”

  He’s straying a bit from politics and government, Nia noticed. Maybe to distract everyone from the questions I asked.

  “Perhaps it was accident,” Zale went on, “that one day a Farworlder struck a mermyd with its taloned tentacle and thereby injected the toxins of its oculus into the mermyd’s blood. Perhaps it was accident that the two beings thus joined discovered they had enhanced mental and magical powers. Or perhaps it was what the Farworlders had intended all along—”

  “Master Zale?” piped up a young mermyd. “Master Zale, I learned in Fish Studies that all parts of an animal have a purpose. But if the tentacle with talons wasn’t originally for joining with mermyds, what do the Farworlders use it for?”

  Master Zale slowly turned a deeper shade of blue. Other student mermyds quietly giggled. Master Zale cleared his throat and said, “Assuming your question is serious, I am given to understand that the tentacle has use during . . . mating rituals.”

  The giggles got louder. Master Zale glared around the room. “And out of respect for our wise and noble Farworlders, that is all I will say on that subject.”

  As the laughter subsided, Nia felt some relief, and some gratitude toward the young mermyd. Maybe now Master Zale will forget my questions. At least I’m not the most annoying student he has today.

  Another mermyd, who wore the bright magenta and yellow colors of the Anemone Clan, spoke up. “Master Zale, about the Naming—my mother tells me she’s glad I wasn’t chosen as the candidate for our family. She said the Naming could be dangerous, and I could die. Is that true?”

  Master Zale blinked and folded his hands in front of him. “I am sure your mother loves you
very much, young sir. But I am pleased to say you may inform her she is in error. While there are theoretical hazards, the ritual and the Trials have been developed, over centuries, to ensure that the danger to both Farworlder and Avatar is minimal. First of all, as you would be aware, had you been listening earlier, only the healthiest of mermyds is chosen to become an Avatar. Second, the entire mental concentration of both High and Low Councils, with all its healing capacity, is focused on the pair during the ritual. With such care taken, there is simply no opportunity for mishaps to occur.”

  Oh, he answered that carefully too, Nia noticed. He didn’t say that no mermyd had ever died during the Naming.

  “What exactly happens during the Naming that could be dangerous?” another mermyd asked. Nia recognized her as the chosen candidate for the Seabass Clan. Well, I guess she has the right to ask. She might have to face the risk.

  Master Zale sighed and rolled his eyes. “We are getting a bit off topic here, but I suppose it is better that you be properly informed so that you do not make the wrong assumptions, like that young fellow’s mother. Put simply, it is this: Before the Naming ritual begins, certain . . . preparations are done to increase the secretions of the oculus gland in the young Farworlder’s bloodstream. This is toxic to the young Farworlder, and those secretions must be released within seven days, or the creature will die. That is one danger. These secretions are also poisonous to the Avatar, and if they were left in his or her bloodstream untransformed, the Avatar would also die in a number of days. That is another danger. Third, once mental joining is established, and it typically happens as soon as the talons of the Farworlder break the skin of the Avatar’s hand, then should one of the pair die, the other will as well.

  “However,” Master Zale emphasized, “the whole point of the Naming ritual is that the healing magic, the mental concentration of the new Avatar and the Councils is focused on changing the secretion so that it is no longer toxic in either the Avatar or the new king. So, you see, there is no reason to fear the Ascension. While there may be moments of unpleasantness, there is no question that the Avatar chosen will come through the ritual whole and healthy.”

  “But what if one’s blood is resistant to being changed by magic?” the Seabass mermyd persisted. She had clearly not been reassured by Master Zale’s explanation.

  “You have been talking to a physician or two, apparently,” Master Zale said. “This person should have told you that a mermyd with such a condition, and that condition is very rare, would simply not have been chosen as a candidate. One whose blood resists magic would show certain odd qualities during magical training, and therefore it would be known well ahead of time.”

  Nia was now paying very close attention. Is that it? Was I not chosen because I have this rare condition? I’ve been told my magical skills are strange. This was something she’d have to ask Dyonis later.

  “Why is the ritual called the Naming?” another mermyd asked.

  Master Zale looked as though his patience was at an end. “Don’t parents tell their offspring anything these days? As a sign that the ritual is complete and the joining safely accomplished, the Avatar announces to the assembly the name by which the Farworlder king wishes to be known. From that point on, the Avatar is able to speak for the Farworlder king and share its thoughts with the Councils and the citizens of Atlantis. Now, if we could please return to the discussion of history—”

  A dolphin swam into the room, squeaking loudly, to signal that class was at an end.

  Master Zale threw out his hands in exasperation. “It would appear fate is against me today. Those interested in learning more about the development of government may return tomorrow at the usual time.”

  Nia hoped she could leave inconspicuously. But she was at the opposite side of the room from the door when class ended, and the way was blocked by all the students ahead of her. She was unable to escape quite fast enough.

  “Lady Niniane!” Master Zale called out. “If you would be so kind as to stay after for a moment.”

  Now I’ve done it, Nia thought with a sickening sinking of her stomach. I’ve revealed I have hidden knowledge. Zale will go to my parents and Cephan will be punished and everything will fall apart. “Yes, Master Zale?” she said, her voice cracking.

  The instructor looked her over disapprovingly. “Well. I suppose you’ve been hearing stories from your illustrious grandfather. That’s Dyonis’s right, if he wants to discuss such things within the family. But these things are not for public discourse, you understand? If you wish to talk about such things, you must do so with him.

  “You see, Atlanteans must have trust in their government. Without it, we would be no better than the constantly warring land-dwellers. In any case, Dyonis should have taught you better than to speak of Ma’el in public. The law is the law. Do not refer even indirectly to him in these halls ever again, do you understand?”

  Nia nodded. Her mind was racing, but she tried to appear calm. “Yes, Master Zale. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  So the prisoner is called Ma’el, she thought with excitement. If Master Zale thinks it’s possible that Grandfather would talk to me about Ma’el, then Dyonis must know the truth. I’ll have to talk to him, as soon as I can. And then she would know the whole story.

  Chapter Six

  “You’ve arranged what?” Nia exclaimed around a mouthful of minced crab meat.

  “Don’t talk until you’ve swallowed, Nia,” Pontus grumbled. “And be respectful. Goodness, I thought we’d raised you better than this.”

  Nia dutifully chewed and swallowed, determined to speak again at the first polite opportunity. She’d come home from the Academy expecting to have a quick, uninteresting dinner so that she could slip away to speak to Dyonis. And her parents chose that time to spring a surprise on her.

  “Now, you understand it’s not for certain,” Tyra said, unable to contain a pleased-with-herself smile. “But I have spoken with the right people, and I think they were charmed with the thought of you taking over Garun’s position at the Archives.”

  “But, Mother, I enjoy working in the nursery,” Nia protested. And I would be bored to tears working in the Archives, she added to herself.

  “Now, now, I remember how you complained when you first took that position,” Tyra said, wagging a finger. “How you felt it wasn’t a worthy place for you. The Archives is a much more prestigious Ministry in which to be employed. And a suitable place to use that fine, inquisitive mind of yours. From there, who knows where you might go? You could do research projects for the Academy, perhaps even teach there someday.”

  And become like Master Zale? Oh, no! “But—”

  “Niniane!” Pontus interjected. “Your . . . Tyra has worked very hard to secure this position for you. It is a post that brings honor to the Bluefin Clan, and we would like to keep it within the Bluefin Clan after Garun leaves.” He coughed. “Rather, if Garun leaves. Of course, we are all trying to think positively about his chances.” He exchanged a glance with Tyra, then returned to his dinner.

  Nia sighed. It seemed that every time her cousin’s name came up lately, her parents acted stranger. Were they embarrassed to talk about him in front of Nia, since they knew she was upset over not being chosen herself? “I understand you’re hoping for the, uh, for the best,” Nia said carefully. “But if Garun doesn’t become an Avatar, won’t he want his position at the Archives back?”

  “Garun will Ascend,” Pontus growled, stabbing at his crab meat roll with his eating trident. “Really, Nia, where is your family loyalty? I sometimes marvel that you are . . . descended from our great elder Dyonis.”

  Nia held very still. Every now and then, in her family, she felt an undercurrent of things not being said. Her parents would trail off and end their thoughts in strange ways. Lately it had been worse than ever. Dyonis was the only one who seemed to hold nothing back from her. And she hoped that would hold true when she asked him about Ma’el.

  Tyra reached over and squee
zed Pontus’s arm. “No need for such harshness, dear. Nia is merely concerned on Garun’s behalf. But, Nia, you really should be thinking of your own future, now that you aren’t going to become an Avatar yourself.”

  Nia could see this was one argument she simply wasn’t going to win. Perhaps she would not have to stay in the Archives long, once they discovered she was unsuitable for it. Maybe that was another thing she could ask Dyonis—if there was some way she could avoid working in the Archives. Maybe he’d know of some other eminent post that she could take that would please her parents as much if not more. “Yes, Mother. You’re right. I’m sorry. I ought to be thinking about my future.” But not necessarily the future you plan for me.

  “That’s better,” Tyra said. “You see, Pontus. I told you she’d come around.”

  “Hmm,” Pontus said, sounding unconvinced.

  Nia was silent for a while, concentrating on her dinner, trying to settle into a comfortable reclining position on her dining couch. This dining in a formal setting, attaching oneself to one piece of furniture while eating off little tables, was a land-dweller custom picked up by mermyds in the time before the Sinking. It didn’t make sense to Nia—she would just as soon eat and swim. But her parents appreciated the old ways. Nia remembered hearing stories about how, before the Sinking, there were wild mermyds who lived much of their life out in the open ocean and who would catch their meals and eat, just like any other sea creature. While the thought of biting into a still-wriggling fish was rather disgusting, Nia found the freedom of such a life attractive.

  If such wild mermyds existed, Nia wondered, what happened to them after the Sinking? Maybe that’s another thing I could ask Dyonis. Nia watched her parents eat and thought about mentioning her intention to visit her grandfather, but hesitated. The mood in the room was strange tonight, and while Nia couldn’t think of a reason why they might forbid her to see her own grandfather, she wouldn’t put it past them to come up with one. Nia needed to speak to Dyonis too much to risk it.