The Tree of Water (11 page)

“Watch your foot by that hole, Chum.” Amariel's thrum had a tone of urgency.

Char jerked his legs quickly up.

A split second later, a triangular head with rows of pointed teeth attached to a snake-like body shot out of the small cave in the coral, its mouth snapping fiercely. It missed Char's foot by a hair.

“Swim a little faster,” the merrow cautioned. “That's a moray eel. Its bite can make you very sick—he only missed you because he's still woozy from the song.”

Char tucked his legs up as high as he could and doubled his arm movements.

Ven's curiosity burned hot in his skin as they traveled the reef, seeing new and marvelous sights with each glance. Amariel's thrum whispered in their ears, telling them the names of and interesting facts about each of the creatures or plants that they passed.

The fish with the beaks they had seen were known as blue parrots according to the merrow, and were sand makers, grinding coral and rocks down to white sand with their powerful jaws. The large pale yellow mass of jelly that looked like a soft snail was a hooded sea slug, very proud of its strong. sweet odor that the merrow assured them made the rest of the creatures on the reef gag, but everyone was too polite to thrum about it for fear of hurting the sea slug's feelings. “Just because we occasionally eat each other doesn't mean we want to be unpleasant to one another,” she told Char, who looked at her doubtfully.

Ven listened as the merrow named each animal and plant along the beautiful reef, from the giant pink, white, and orange sponges shaped like a human hand to the wispy purple corals that looked like tube-shaped trees. And everywhere was coral—coral shaped like the horns of stags, mushrooms, ferns, bubbles, cabbages, honeycombs, brains, plates, spiders, anything and everything Ven could imagine. One word kept forming in his mind, over and over again.

Magic.

The merrow heard his thrum and smiled.

Char rose up in the water as a small, ugly fish with spotted skin and yellow fins below him began to suddenly inflate, forming itself into a round ball.

“Whoa, careful of him,” Amariel cautioned. “He's a puffer—and he's poisonous.”

Char kept his knees drawn up and paddled gingerly away from the fish. “Yikes,” his thrum whispered. “How did he do that?”

“His stomach is very stretchy, and he can fill it with water or air to make himself look bigger,” the merrow said as they passed beyond the puffer. “It helps keep him swimming upright as well.” Her thrum lowered to what seemed like an embarrassed whisper. “He's a little slow and awkward. Try not to think badly of him.”

“Sure,” said Char. “No problem.”

Above them, the surface was surprisingly close, Ven noted. He judged the water to be only a few dozen feet deep. At each turn, the reef grew more colorful, with tiny lemon-colored fish darting in and around red anemones that looked for all the world like the daisies in his mother's garden, even though their thrum assured him they were animals.

While they were admiring the beauty of the coral forest, in the distance, explosions of light and color appeared in the drift ahead of them. They twinkled and glowed in the darkness beyond the edge of the reef ahead.

“Fireworks!” Char exclaimed.

“Fireworks under the sea?” said Ven.

The merrow shook her head. “That's the plankton. Sometimes it gives off blue and red sparks to attract some of the bigger predators. We must be getting near the edge of the reef. Be careful, because the bottom will drop off and the water will get much deeper fast once the reef ends.”

“Wait—the plankton
wants
to attract the bigger predators?” Ven asked. “Why?”

“Because right now it's being chewed on by bazillions of tiny krill. The krill are being chewed on by millions of herring. If the plankton can attract some bigger predators, like yellowfin tuna or salmon, to the storm, those predators will pick off some of the things that are eating the plankton.”

“Ah,” said Ven. “That's very clever.”

“Well, of
course
,” said the merrow. She looked below them as the main body of the reef bed thinned and came to an end above a more sandy bottom dotted with fewer coral formations. The ocean floor, as she had predicted, dropped off sharply, with deeper, greener, cloudier water beyond the reef.

“You can see a lot from here,” Amariel said, hovering over the edge. “Sometimes it's nice to look under the reef and see how cleverly it's made.”

The boys floated over the edge beside her, then turned to look back at the underpinnings of the coral barricade.

The merrow continued her tour. She pointed out a number of striped fish, known as reef sharks, swimming smoothly through the blossoms of a patch of coral that looked like bright pink broccoli.

“There,” she said to Char. “You've seen your first sharks—reef sharks. Are you afraid?” She didn't give him a chance to answer before launching into a long story about how the color of coral came from tiny plants living inside each coral polyp. Ven listened, fascinated, as she explained that hard coral were friendly builders forming communities together that eventually turned into reefs, she said, “sort of like the Gated City or the farmers who live in the Wide Meadows of Serendair.” And the soft coral, which looked like friendly, innocent plants in an immense, colorful garden, actually had tiny barbed tentacles coated with venom that they occasionally put out to spear krill or even small fish like the ones Ven could see taking shelter in their supple arms right now.

“But only when they're really hungry,” Amariel noted as Char pulled his feet up even higher. “Or really bored. And mostly at night. The big corals will usually eat the little ones before they turn to eating fish.”

“Ugh,” said Char.

“What?” Amariel demanded. “What's ‘ugh' about that? Everybody's got to eat.”

“Speaking of eating,” said Ven, “we forgot to take care of that on the skelligs. I'm starting to get pretty hungry.”

“Yeah. I'm starvin'.”

Just as he heard Char's thrum in his mind, the same words came crashing all around Ven, echoing in his ears and skin. The joy and excitement was unmistakable.

Starving! Starving! Starving!

Amariel looked around quickly.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Ven looked around as well, but couldn't see anything coming. “What's starving? What's happening, Amariel?”

Suddenly, ahead of them in the green water beyond the reef, the sheets of herring let loose a high, frightened scream, their thousands of tiny silent voices making the drift shudder around them. Then the voices began chanting a single word.

Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball!

The clear blue water above the reef buzzed and swirled.

Char squinted through the sunwater.

“Something big is coming,” he said. “A whole
bunch
of big somethings. And
fast
.”

“Quick—take cover in the coral!” the merrow urged. “Careful not to cut yourself. If you do, and you don't clean the wound properly, coral can grow
inside your body
.”

Ven dove for a patch of long-armed plants the color of dry wood, trying to block the sound of Char's horrified thrum from his mind. He dragged his friend into a space within the branches. The merrow followed them.

Just as she was pulling her tail inside the shelter, a streak of blue and silver gray shot past them.

Then another.

And another.

Then a dozen more.

“Dolphins!” Char exclaimed, trying to avoid the waving arms of the corals as a whole school streaked by. Their thrum was full of joy and excitement, as if they were laughing and hunting at the same time, filling the water around them with a squeaking, whistling music of their own. “Oh, Ven, look! Remember how they used to chase the
Serelinda
and play games in the water around the ship?”

Ven laughed in relief.

“Yes!” he said happily. “Thank goodness it was something friendly and harmless that heard Amariel's song, instead of a shark or a big predator or something.”

The merrow looked at him sourly.

“Friendly and harmless? I guess that depends on your point of view. Look.”

She pointed into the deep, green water past the reef.

The thousands of herring they had followed since school that morning had formed themselves into an enormous Ball. They were swimming frantically, trying to keep moving, as the dolphins swept by, snapping at the outsiders. The schoolmaster's thrum could be heard above it all, calmly but nervously.

Tighten up those corners, now. The top is a little sloppy.

“Oh no,” Ven whispered. “No.”

“I imagine the herring would disagree with your definition of ‘big predator,' mate,” said Char.

“This is gonna get ugly real fast,” said the merrow. “Cover your ears and heads.”

Ven watched, part in amazement, part in horror, as the school of dolphins swept in from every side, taking out whole quadrants of the Ball. The thrum from the green water beyond the reef was at the same time thrilling and terrifying, amid sparks of blue and red flashes set off all around by the plankton.
It looks like a great celebration,
he thought sadly as silver scales began appearing in places where a few moments before herring had been.
And I guess to the dolphins it is
.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for the herring.

The feast seemed to go on for hours, but in reality it was over in a matter of minutes. A few surviving herring hurried out to sea. Ven thought he saw the schoolmaster among them, but he couldn't be certain in the cloudy water. The dolphins sped off, singing in their whistling voices, cackling happily.

Ven rose from within their coral hiding place and floated back to the edge of the reef and to the green water just beyond it.

The plankton had ceased setting off their sparks, and now the afternoon sun glittered hazily on an empty sea.

The screeching thrum was gone, replaced with the blurry silence of the drift and the quiet music of lapping waves.

Silver scales floated slowly down around him to the ocean floor below like snowflakes.

And nothing more.

His friends followed him to the reef's edge. Amariel's thrum echoed in their heads. “I told you someone was going to pay for my song with their lives. At least it wasn't us. I'm glad.”

“Well, I guess we're not gonna be dancin' at the herring ball,” Char said.

Ven sighed. “That was terrible.”

The merrow rolled her eyes.

“What you call ‘terrible,' most people would call ‘lunch.' Snap out of it, Ven. You knew the rules when you came in—‘everything in the sea is food to something else, and the sea is always hungry.'”

Char nodded.

Ven looked down to the ocean floor. The silver scales were skittering on the sand, almost as if they were dancing. He watched as the drift picked them up and carried them slowly away in all different directions.

He sighed again.

“So where to now, Amari—”

His words were cut short by the sight of what looked like human eyes staring at him from within the coral bed.

Above the shiny metal point of a weapon.

 

12

Coreon

My mother always told me I should learn to think before I speak. After many years of embarrassing examples of why I needed to learn to do this, I finally started counting to three before I said anything, at least when I remembered to.

But here in the sea, with thrum taking away the ability to think something that you don't want to say, I have no idea whatsoever how to contain my thoughts.

I don't know how to think before I think.

My curiosity has long gotten me into trouble. I have a hard enough time controlling it in the upworld.

In the sea, I have no chance at all.

 

“Who are you?”

Ven's surprise was so great that his thrum came out like a shout. It vibrated through the water, causing the soft arms of the coral and anemones to rustle, and his friends to stare at him in shock.

A head emerged from behind the coral bed.

It belonged to what appeared to be a young boy about my age, perhaps twelve or so in human years. He was hidden by the shadows, but through the sunwater he seemed to have skin the color of tea with a lot of milk in it. His eyes were the shape of almonds and dark as well, though I could not tell what color they were. His brownish hair floated about his head like seaweed, and his ears appeared to be slightly pointed, like those of the Lirin on land. He stood up, and I could see he was carrying a weapon. It was shaped like a land crossbow, flat, with a barbed point in front that looked a little like the harpoons sailors use on ships.

“That's pretty nervy,” he said. The thrum of his voice varied as if it had not decided how high it wanted to be. “You come into
our
realm and then demand to know who
we
are? Who the heck are
you
?” He pointed his weapon at Ven.

“My name is Ven. My friends and I mean you no harm—really.”

The almond eyes narrowed even more.

“I can't say the same. What are you doing here?”

Ven blinked. His eyes were still becoming used to the salt.

What reason should I give?
he wondered
. Hiding from the Thief Queen? Probably not a good idea. Exploring the depths? If they mean us harm, that makes us sound like we are out of place. They may use that against us, There are so many answers, and Madame Sharra was right—none of them sound very good.

“Coreon!”

The thrum was similar to the voice of the boy, but older and deeper.

“Coreon! Where are you?”