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Dagger lay awake, thinking. The water was dark around
him, and pale beams of moonlight gleamed through the stillness. He had long
wondered if he had done the right thing in leaving his family, without even
a note as to say where he had gone. They must be worried sick about him… maybe
he should go back.
No. That wasn’t an option. If he wanted
an audience with the King, he would have to accompany the Princess and help
her to find this mythical Peophin she so desperately sought. Dagger, too, had
heard the tales of the Lady of Solitude but never quite believed them. He was
slightly skeptical of the Flotsam’s confidence, but now… strangely enough, he
found he didn’t really mind going with her. No matter how far they had to go
to find this Harquin, he would follow. This strange sort of kinship he felt
with her was not something he quite understood, but still, it did exist. Perhaps
it had to do with the fact that she was about his age. Or perhaps…
A slight movement in the surrounding water
caught his eye and he turned sharply towards it. Approaching as softly and silently
as a shadow, there loomed a dark, sleek shape with gleaming yellow eyes looming
out of the blackness. A marauding Jetsam!
Dagger lost no time. He flew off the sea
grass and drew his cutlass, hoping fervently that the Jetsam wouldn’t see that
he was only young and small. Hovering over Tirra, he tried to look as large
and fierce as he could, holding his cutlass blade aloft in a gesture of challenge.
Amazingly the other, at the sight of another
Jetsam, turned tail and slunk away into the darkness again. Dagger breathed
a sigh of relief.
“Princess!” cried Cowrie’s terrified voice
from behind him.
Tirra awoke with a start, to see Dagger
looming over her, a dark shape in the dark water, his blade still held up, threatening
to fall. She gasped and darted away from him, gazing at him with a look of both
rage and pain.
“How… how could you?” she burst out angrily.
“I… I trusted you… and…”
“That wasn’t what it looked like!” Dagger
cried back, feeling injustice and hurt scoring him within. “I was-”
“Liar!” Tirra snapped, cutting him off.
“I can’t believe I was wrong about you! I’m finding Harquin by myself! Consider
our bargain over and done with!” With that she turned and sped into the dark.
Cowrie, casting a searing glare at Dagger, darted after her. Dagger, stunned
and wounded by the sudden outburst of hatred, stared after them for a while
as they disappeared into the night waters, hardly believing what had just taken
place. Then realization hit him. They had headed in the direction that Jetsam
had taken. And where there was one, there would probably be more.
Mustering all his courage, Dagger shot
off in the direction the Flotsam and Koi had taken. They could now be in very
real danger…
***
Far, far above, the ocean’s surface began to stir fiercely. The white crested
rollers crashed against each other aggressively, slapping the surface of the
sea into furrows as a strong wind picked up, tearing the water up by handfuls
and letting it fall back into the depths. Ragged, grey clouds drifted across
the sky, obscuring the pale brightness of the moon.
A storm was brewing.
***
On and on Tirra swam, not knowing or caring where she went, simply trying to
put as much distance between herself and Dagger as was possible. She should
have listened to her head after all. Dagger couldn’t be trusted. Perhaps he
had meant to take her hostage in exchange for his crew to be allowed to return
to Kaoren. But when she thought of his wistful expression and kind eyes, she
felt even worse. To think that she had gone by his outward appearance…
She barely heeded Cowrie’s satisfied praising
of her actions and hostile words regarding Jetsams. She just kept swimming,
tears diffusing from her eyes into the surrounding water.
It was when she finally stopped, tired
out from her emotional turmoil and physical strain, that she looked around.
A sudden panic gripped her, turning her insides to ice. How far had she gone?
She had not followed the current… In which direction was Harquin now? Would
she have to start over? Which way was home?
She was lost.
“Princess…” Cowrie’s voice was filled with
terror. Tirra looked about her. All around them long, sleek shapes were materializing
out of the gloom. There must have only been about five or six but to the horrified
pair it seemed like scores were closing in on them in ever decreasing circles,
as if tightening a knot. One swam up to her, yellow eyes glinting with malice.
“Not so tough w’out yer Jetsam lad ta
protect ye, eh?”
Hot waves of guilt and shame poured over Tirra
as she realized what Dagger must have been doing, scorching her to the marrow.
What had she done? Jumped to hasty conclusions, never giving Dagger a chance to
explain himself… swum off without a second thought, the fool of a Flotsam that
she was! And now it was too late… she was too tired to fight, but still she readied
her horn, prepared to defend Cowrie.
The Jetsams bared their teeth as they circled
the hapless pair, drawing long curved scimitars from their belts.
A dark shadow suddenly plunged into the
water near them in a flurry of foam.
“Dagger!” Tirra gasped in amazement and
relief. The Jetsam shot her his shy grin.
“Made it just in time, I see.”
He drew his own blade, his large eyes becoming
serious and narrowed as he turned to the Jetsam horde. They had scattered momentarily
at Dagger’s sudden appearance, but were starting to approach again. Tirra flanked
Dagger with lowered horn, both of them hiding Cowrie between them. There would
be no use swimming away; they were very close to the ocean surface and as agile
as all of them were, they were outnumbered and the Jetsams would be older and
more experienced in such tricks, probably faster too. Perhaps if they fought
well enough to defend themselves and each other, the opportunity for escape
would present itself.
There was only one way to find out.
The horde pressed closer…
***
Jake awoke to the plop of the rain as it fell down upon him, soaking his turquoise
coat. He shuddered as the strengthening winds blew past him, chilling him. He
dived back into the water. He had better find a place to sleep under the sea;
no creature with any sense would be out in this weather, the promise of a storm
to come.
Submerging himself, he scouted about for
a rock, or a reef of some sort, as the rattle of the rain upon the water grew
steadily stronger and the distant roar of the thunder sounded in the sky. He
looked up and stopped paddling for a moment, feeling rather smug. Oh, he was
lucky to be a Sea Acara, to be able to breathe and move in the briny waters
of the ocean! Storms with their fiery lightning streaks and thunder that split
the sky with sound, and the sheeting, cold rain and the howling wind, could
rage and cry all they liked up out in the air while he swam, safe and free from
harm, under the protective shelter of water. His water. His sea.
He was thinking these thoughts with some
satisfaction when it hit him. An enormous wave, fed by the rain and stirred
up by the wind, lifted him up as it rose above the water, and crashed down again
into the depths, winding him. Before he could regain himself and get his bearings
another one swept him up in its watery grasp as it ascended, again bringing
him down. And then another, and another…
Jake felt confused, and frightened, and
above all very foolish as he was whirled and thrown and buffeted about by the
angry waves. Of course, like all the other creatures of the sea had done, he
should have dived down to the depths at the very hint of a storm from the sky.
He could have avoided this, if only he had thought! Why had he been so thoughtless?
Then it occurred to him. Why was he so
afraid? Was he so used to clinging to and blindly following his owner that he
could not care for himself? A strange sort of defiance that the Acara had never
known before entered into him, just as he was plunged yet again into the sea.
These waves were still part of the sea, and thus part of his own domain and
inheritance as a rare-created Sea Acara. What right had it to rule over him?
As the next wave formed around him, Jake
rose with it, paddling strongly upwards, towards the crest of foam at its peak,
like a cap of snow on a colossal mountain. As it reached its full height he
could see the dark sky, dark sea outside the crystal curve of sea that enveloped
him, strangely beautiful through the translucence of it. The distant shrieks
of the wind and the thunder’s cry were muffled, a background noise. For an instant
the wave reared, poised with the Acara within, against the furious sky. A brilliant
lightning flash lit it up from behind. Then it started to curl.
Jake realized it was collapsing in on itself,
that proud upsurge of seawater born of the storm. He plowed to its edge and
leapt free of it as the wave crashed back into the sea with a boom of water
meeting water. Flying through the air, he looked down upon the dark, angry swell,
criss-crossed with white foam and disturbed by the countless raindrops that
poured down upon it. He closed his eyes, extended his forelegs, and plunged
back below.
Once he was submerged again, Jake burst
out laughing, barely audible against the crash and surge of the water around
him, but hardly caring. It had been fun. No longer afraid, he eagerly ascended,
following the next upsurge of the current. As the wave reared up once more,
he could hardly restrain himself from whooping with exhilaration. How thrilling
to be out in this battle between the enraged, heaving sea and the sky that roared
and pelted it with raindrops and light!
Jake had attained another part of his heritage
in that moment and that night; he had not only become part of the sea, but was
now part of the storm as well.
If anyone else had been there in that raging
torrent, they would have gasped with surprise at that strange and wondrous sight,
that lone, fiercely joyous Acara riding the waves against a backdrop of stormy
sky.
To be continued...
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