CHAPTER 9
Vic had never eaten underwater before. After being surrounded by sharks, having his throat slashed, nearly being drowned, being taken to the hall of the merlon king, and coming face to face with the evil man who had killed Gwen’s parents and made his own mother flee to save his life, Vic couldn’t say he was particularly hungry.
King Barak seemed completely manic, excited by the slightest stray thought, consumed with his own plans. After watching for only a few minutes, Vic could see that Azric had corrupted the merlon king by manipulating him and playing on his emotions. Azric knew exactly how to get what he wanted, while making Barak think the desires were his own.
At the moment, the merlon king apparently believed that Vic, Gwen, and their friends were actually guests, rather than victims who had been dragged underwater against their will. Given his obviously tempestuous personality, Barak could change his mind at any moment.
Male and female merlons, servants in the undersea court, swam in and set up a long table in front of the king’s throne. Heavy dishes were set on the table and rounded stone seats placed around it. Officious merlon servants directed everyone, including the five captive apprentices and dozens of merlons, to take their places by the table. Everyone waited for the king to sit, but he floated around fidgeting, impatient with everything. Azric waited nearby looking completely in control, his loose garments drifting in the currents.
With an indignant scowl that turned his scaly face into an even more hideous mask, the king pointed to Tiaret’s teaching staff, which Orpheon still held. “That is a scepter for a leader, not a minion. Give it to me.” Reluctantly, Orpheon handed it over, and Barak shooed him away. “You may withdraw now. I have one shape-shifting human sage here. That is quite enough!” He held Tiaret’s staff, rapped its pointed end on the table, and finally took his seat.
Orpheon swam away in a huff, self-consciously flickering his body to assume the form of a merlon again, though no one was convinced.
As if sharing a secret with Vic and Gwen, Barak leaned toward them. “Azric and Orpheon are certainly ugly, but they have the redeeming quality of being able to alter their appearance to look as beautiful as merlons.” He moved his fishlike face closer to Vic’s. “Do you have that ability, or are you trapped with those hideous features?”
“This is who I am,” Vic said. “Why would I want to look like anything else?”
“Why, indeed?” Azric said, his voice drawn out and far too sweet. “A face only a mother could love—and I’m sure his mother does love him. We’re counting on that. When was the last time you saw your mother, Vic?” Azric did not call Vic by his Elantyan name. And his dialect sounded much less formal than Elantyan speech.
“I saw her right before she disappeared—to keep us all safe from you!”
“Hmm, I wonder where she went,” Azric said with a taunting smile.
King Barak sat on his throne and made an impatient gesture. Guards forced the five friends to sit. Swimming attendants reverently placed what appeared to be a potted plant in a polished stone urn next to Barak. The large urn contained a waving, tentacled thing that was more than a plant but not quite an animal, either. Whiplike fronds swayed in the currents. Half of the tentacle fronds were topped with what looked like eyeballs, gazing in all directions.
The tiny, colorful fish that flitted in and out of the throne room seemed to be fair game for the writhing plant-thing. Any fish that swam close enough to the creature was in danger of being lassoed by the thready appendages and dragged struggling down into the potted creature’s crunching jaws while its numerous tentacle eyes peered down, watching the meal.
“My pet obviously prefers the blue fish.” King Barak made the pronouncement without any clear basis in fact. “I decree that more blue fish shall swim into my throne chamber. And no more red ones.”
Watching the potted creature eat, Vic wondered if the merlon king sampled his pet’s food for himself. “One fish, two fish,” he muttered to Gwen. “Red fish, blue fish?” Trying to be discreet, she kicked his leg under the table.
“What is that nonsense?” Barak roared. “Do you dare challenge me?”
“N-no,” Vic stammered. “It’s from a, uh, children’s rhyme, and I—”
Azric smoothly changed the subject. “Speaking of rhymes, did you know that there are prophecies about you two? I doubt you are even aware of your potential powers. Your mothers kept them secret from you, you know. They didn’t share very much information with their own children, which is really quite a pity. But I’ve studied the prophecies. I can help. There is so much you could accomplish.”
“In other words, you want us to do something for you,” Gwen said. “What makes you think we’d ever agree to that?”
“Oh, you will,” Azric said. “In fact, there is someone who—”
“Is it not rude to carry on a private conversation when I have so many guests?” the merlon king said.
“Ah, but Majesty, this business regards an important prophecy about the two children, information that—” Azric began.
The frills on the merlon king’s head flared a brighter red, standing out like the spines on the back of an angry dragon. “The only prophecies I care for are the ones about merlons. Like the one that goes: Merlons, merlons, unite. And so forth. All other prophecies are unbearably tedious!”
“Of course they are.” Azric remained unruffled, as if experienced at placating Barak’s capricious moods. The look the evil wizard sent Vic and Gwen warned them that the discussion would continue later. He gave the king a brief bow. “Leave this to me. I can take care of everything, and you need never be bored with the details—just as when the cities of Oo’nisl and Oo’beebl were late in sending you their tribute, hmm? Did I not convince them in only a day to pay you twice as much as they owed?”
The king looked somewhat mollified. “Insolent chieftains. It was high time they showed the proper respect. Fools!”
“Exactly. And fools cannot be allowed to wield power, can they?” Azric gave him a slight smile. “Now, perhaps a banquet will cheer you up, and afterward you can choose any entertainment you like.”
“Yes. Food! I want to be served now,” Barak shouted. “Where is the food? Bring the feast!”
More guards and servants swam in, carrying individual platters loaded with round, rubbery steaks held in place by a thick spike at the center of each dish.
“Ah, delicious!” The merlon king’s eyes lit up like lamps. “Not many have ever tasted battle kraken.”
“Battle kraken?” Gwen said, gulping.
“Certainly. We had to do something with the creature. Why not eat it?” King Barak waved his webbed hand. “The beast was quite a nuisance.”
“Is this the same battle kraken that attacked the Elantyan harbor?” Tiaret scowled down at the meat on her plate. Sharif poked at it with a pearly carved-shell utensil, but he didn’t take a bite.
“The same one,” Barak said. He stroked a frond of the plant creature in the urn beside him, then devoured a large chunk of kraken steak. “Tentacled things are never as intelligent as you expect them to be.”
“Huh. You’d think that the task of manipulating all those appendages would require a certain amount of brainpower,” Vic said.
Azric drifted forward. “Sadly, the battle kraken’s attack against Elantya turned out to be less effective than we had hoped, and the creature was injured.”
“Yup. In fact, I had a front-row seat. Sage Polup and I shot Grogyptian Fire into its face from a cannon,” Vic said. “Lyssandra was there, too.”
“You killed my battle kraken?” King Barak roared.
Gwen pushed away her plate and fisted her hands in her lap. “We defended our island. What did you expect us to do?”
“I expected you to be defeated. How very irritating,” Barak said. “The injured battle kraken went mad with the pain. It came thrashing back here to Oo’regl, the capital itself, and caused enormous damage, simply enormous! That beast destroyed many of our buildings, killed merlon soldiers who were trying to defend our city. They were very useful soldiers, too. I make another decree: No more soldiers shall be killed by a kraken. Write that down!”
“Sheesh, I feel so guilty about all the trouble we put you through,” Vic said with even heavier irony. “Poor old Squidzilla.”
The king took another bite, which seemed very satisfying to him. “No matter. We succeeded in killing the creature and making this lovely feast.” He stabbed another chunk of the meat. “And we do have enough slaves to rebuild the city. So, not such a nuisance after all.”
“I’m afraid our captives have little appetite, King Barak,” Azric pointed out, smiling. “Children get queasy about the strangest things.”
“You mean like getting kidnapped?” Gwen muttered to Vic.
King Barak finished his meal and frowned at Sharif, who had not even tasted his kraken steak. Abruptly, the king reached over, grabbed Sharif’s plate, and tossed the hunk of squid to his potted plant creature. The tentacles grabbed the meat and stuffed it down into its crunching jaws. Then the king snatched Lyssandra’s meal and took it for his own, eating even more of the grayish meat. “My two best generals were riding the battle kraken,” he grumbled. “They were killed in that attack, too.”
Tiaret addressed the merlon king. “If those were your best fighters, then their training was inadequate.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she were simply offering an observation.
“They were my commanders, my strongest fighters!” Barak pounded his webbed fist on the banquet table. “But strong is not enough. I need great, imaginative, and undefeated generals to lead my armies. How else can I complete the destruction of Elantya? Now that those two are slain, I must replace them with the best my merlons have to offer.”
Azric leaned over and whispered something in the king’s ear. Barak nodded vigorously. He made a snort, and swirls of water curled up from his fishy mouth. “I may care nothing for ancient tales about Seal Breakers and crystal doors, but ancient customs are another matter. You make a good suggestion, Azric. A traditional merlon competition to choose new generals would be just the thing to lift my spirits.”
“Yes, King Barak.” Azric sounded pointedly patient. “And I will see that we use the talents of these children to free my immortal armies that have been locked away for centuries by the Great Closure. Only then can we bring back the golden days you’ve been longing for. You know the prophecy.”
Shimmers, shimmers of light,
Fallen to disgrace, Glimmers, glimmers ignite,
Evil ones displace. Swimmers, swimmers, unite,
Take your rightful place!
Churning, churning the wave,
All around the Key, Turning, turning to save,
Freedom in the sea. Yearning, yearning we crave,
Merlon victory!
Olden, olden the rage, Higher yet it towers,
Bolden, bolden the Sage,
In the darkest hours. Golden, golden the age,
That shall then be ours!
“You see, Barak, I am that sage who will lead you to victory and usher in the Golden Age of the Merlons.”
The king looked unconvinced. “Your hordes of immortal soldiers will bring thousands more land dwellers to our world. My first aim is to remove the blot of Elantya from my world. Stupid island! We must sink it and return Szishh to its pristine ocean environment. No dry land! The interlopers never asked our permission. They simply decided to create an island we did not need. That is the priority, Azric. We continue our plans. After we deal with Elantya, then we can play with your prophecy.” He stood, raising his clawed hand. “But before we start, I require new generals!”
Azric bowed. “Of course, King Barak. Choose your generals.” He nodded to Vic and Gwen, and their friends. “And then I have other things to do with our new guests.”
“Naturally, one does not simply choose powerful generals at random,” the merlon king said to the captive apprentices as if he were teaching small children. “It must be done properly, in a magnificent combat. Yes, a combat! I demand it right now. Send word to any of my fighters who wish to be considered.” He addressed his potted plant creature, patting the eyeball tentacles. “You shall watch with me.” Then he bellowed for merlon servants. “Take away the table and the rest of this banquet. I have had my fill.”
Vic had just been getting up his nerve to taste the battle kraken when swimming servants yanked the platters away and disassembled the table.
“I will enjoy this very much.” Barak beamed at his new captives. “It is not often we have a death-joust with sea serpents. The perfect way to finish a meal!”