The Serpent's Ring (Relics of Mysticus) by Bolton H.B

Author:Bolton, H.B. [Bolton, H.B.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-07-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

WOODEN SHARK-PODS

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, EXACTLY?” cried out Evan.

A mermaid with long silver hair made a chiming sound, but Evan couldn’t understand her.

“Remember council members, humans do not understand our language,” announced Ragnar. “You will need to form a membrane around your mouth and throat so he can understand you.” Bubbles formed over the mouth and throat of every merperson there.

The mermaid with silver hair then regarded Evan. “Your symbol shows what you will face, and what could happen if you fail. If you succeed, then your symbol will complete itself and remain here permanently.”

“But, what if I fail?” Evan asked; his voice shaky.

A merman with a crimson-colored beard interrupted, “Then your failure will be etched into the glass. Of course, we will be here to see it. You, however, will not be.”

“That is quite enough,” declared the silver-haired merlady. “Can you not see that he is already frightened?”

“As well he should be,” shouted Redbeard.

The two bickered about the value of mankind, and whether or not it was such a good idea to turn against Aegir. After all, what has mankind ever done for them except spoil their oceans and refuse to share land? Obviously, this wasn’t the council members’ first argument.

“Silence!” roared Ragnar, who raised his arms. “Lazonia, please, show Evan our city. Apparently, we have some unfinished business to attend to in here.”

As Redbeard proceeded to defend his stance, Evan was led through a tubular hallway. Evan could hear the outburst that followed Redbeard’s argument. And then the merpeople’s perfectly clear English transformed into wails and squeals.

“You must be hungry,” said Lazonia, reaching for Evan’s hand. “You will be able to move around easier with my help.”

Still too stunned to talk, Evan reached for her hand. She swerved around multiple loops. Occasionally, the tube split. Expertly, Lazonia chose which way to go, leading him along hallways lined with many oval doorways; some were transparent, some were not. Evan wondered if any of the doors led to offices, and whether or not there were cubicles inside. He laughed a little as he imagined a fish wearing glasses, typing on a computer.

“Why are you laughing?” Lazonia asked, slowing her pace.

“Oh, nothing. I’m trying to think about something funny.”

“You are an interesting creature, Evan Jones,” she said and paused. She appeared to study him before continuing. “I shall introduce you to mermaid cuisine. This café happens to offer the best around,” she said sweetly.

“Thanks. I’d like that,” he said, remembering how little he had eaten over the last few days.

Long strands of seaweed grew up and along the walls and ceiling, coiling and looping the entire length of the hallway. At the end of each vine a cluster of underwater flowers illuminated both color and light. Up ahead, a glass archway lead to the “outdoor” café. Glass sculptures of shells and mermaids formed a wall around the terrace. High tables rested on top of a mosaic design made from glass and seashells. There were no chairs. Everyone floated in place, picking at their food and drinking from bizarre bottles.

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