Eat Your Heart Out (Descendants) Page 3

  There before her was the mer city.

  CHAPTER 5

  The mer city was wild and beautiful, a thing that at once looked like it had grown from the ocean floor and at the same time carved by man. Or, more appropriately, merman.

  “Come on!” Kendra shouted from far below.

  Rachel tore her eyes from the mer city. Kendra floated at the bottom of the kelp hill before arched gates encrusted with barnacles. She spun in fast circles, laughter pouring out of her on a stream of bubbles.

  Behind the gates, the mer city was a warren of twisting coral spires and rock chipped away into the shape of curving, fanciful buildings. It climbed up and up to the very edge of a giant underwater cliff, a wall of algae and moss studded with holes like windows in a high-rise.

  Something nudged Rachel in her back, and she spun. Daphne held up a small whiteboard, the only way the non-mer part of the group could communicate underwater. It spelled one word in all caps: WOW. Rachel nodded back. Wow was right. In fact, wow was basically the only word circling around in her head at the moment. She’d pictured the mer city a thousand times since Kendra had first been invited, but this was beyond everything. It made her feel weightless and dreamy.

  Another nudge—more of a sharp poke. Sid jabbed a finger back at the city, where flashes of silver, gold, bronze, even iridescent darted across narrow lanes between buildings. The merpeople. Perhaps hundreds of them. At the city’s edge, a herd of hippocampi gathered near the bounds of a barnacle-covered fence, their deep black fish eyes on the three of them and harnesses the only thing keeping them from investigating further. There were dozens of the curious and elegant creature, a strange cross of seahorse and land horse. Their colors shimmered through the water: greens and blues and dappled pearl.

  Movement caught Rachel’s eye, and she spun as Kendra, Kai, and Grey swam back to them. Grey ran a hand down Kendra’s back to settle at the base of her spine and leaned his mouth close to her ear. Even in the low light, Rachel didn’t miss the blush bloom across her friend’s cheeks. Or the glance Kai cut their way. The large merman flared his nostrils then held a hand out to the three humans floating uncertainly at the edge of the hill.

  “Please,” Kai said, his voice baritone. It vibrated around Rachel, deep and low enough to feel in her stomach. “Come with us. You make the mer nervous.”

  Rachel laughed around her regulator. She was making the mer nervous? Rachel could barely feel her limbs, they were so alive with energy and trepidation and excitement. But she nodded and drifted down the kelp hill. She ran her fingers through the grasses as she went—silky yet with rough nodules that pulled at the wetsuit where they made contact.

  At the entrance to the mer city, Kai stopped. The gates remained closed, and they were so crusted with shells and barnacles Rachel wasn’t sure they’d even open. Kai picked up a bell—also heavy with shells—and held it out in front of his chest. His bicep bulged under the weight of the bell, and his jaw was set in a hard line against the strain. He looked to Sid, Daphne, and Rachel, nodding once at each of them and touching two fingers to his forehead in the traditional mer greeting.

  “Descendants, I welcome you to the mer city. We are happy to have you as our guests.” The bell rang out like a timpani, a deep bass that quivered through the water and rattled their bones. All around, the kelp fluttered flat at the tone, like it was bowing. Behind the gates, a flurry of movement rippled through the city: merpeople rushing to windows to watch, hippocampi straining against their harnesses.

  Grey put both hands to the massive gates, and with a groan that shuddered under the sand, the mer city opened. Kendra kicked back to them like an eager puppy and hooked an arm through Rachel’s. “There is so much I want to show you,” she said, close to Rachel’s ear.

  Rachel squeezed her best friend’s arm and let herself be led past the gates.

  Kai and Grey led them through the city, down lanes of crushed shell and courtyards where orange and yellow coral was planted like rose bushes. Yet the city was empty—or it really wanted to appear empty. Rachel would hear voices around a next corner, melodic as a symphony, but only see a flicker of tail as the last mer hid. In the city center, the pink coral spires and brown rock buildings twisted overhead, sometimes curving together to block out the light nearly altogether. In the murk of these narrow alleys, Rachel didn’t miss the flashes of silver and gold as merpeople spied on them. She heard their giggles like bubbles blowing against her back and felt their movements as they jetted through the water unseen.

  As they passed under an arch made of pale orange coral, Grey let go of Kendra’s hand to come swim between Sid and Rachel.

  “They’ll get over the shyness,” he said with an easy smile. A rope of silvery hair floated in front of his eyes, and he flicked it away. “I’ll take you by the guppy academy later. They won’t be able to get enough of you.”

  But first, they stopped before an odd building. It was curved and sharp at the same time, with a giant swell of crusted metal sharpening to a point above their heads. It was only when Rachel looked closer that she realized it was the bow of a sunken ship, most of it buried beneath sand and reef.

  A merman swam from a dark hole yawning in the side. He was old, his skin a dull pewter and his hair a mess of green and white that was tied in a knot atop his head. He tapped two fingers to his forehead in a quick greeting, his eyes on Rachel.

  “Ah, Mallu. There you are,” Kai nodded to the older man and turned to the others. “Mallu is a city elder, and it was he who granted you access to visit us.”

  Daphne kept compulsively putting her fingers to her forehead in a perpetual greeting. Rachel flashed her mom round eyes and a tiny shake of the head, but Daphne just performed the traditional mer greeting to her daughter instead. Rachel grumbled against her mouthpiece and grabbed for her own whiteboard. THANK YOU, she wrote.

  Mallu’s voice was high and cracked through the water. “Save for those like young Kendra, who we consider citizens, you three are the first humans welcomed into our city since its founding. It is a great honor for you.”

  Rachel wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she held up the whiteboard again and gave Mallu a thumbs up, which immediately felt like an amateur move.

  Kai cocked his head at her—which only made Rachel feel even more like a fool for the thumbs up move. Who did that? Her cheeks colored behind her mask. Kai smiled gently. “So,” he said. “I thought we could see the hippocampi herd, then Grey is eager to show you the city academy. It’s where he’s been apprenticing as a teacher.”

  Kendra beamed at Grey and reached out to pull him close, one hand snaking around Grey’s narrow waist. But one sharp look from her father made her backstroke away. Kai coughed—it issued as two giant bubbles that floated above his head—and led the way, Mallu at his side.

  Away from the hulk of the sunken ship, the mer city thinned out to large yards of kelp growing between shell-studded fences. The sounds from within the city—the melodic shouts echoing down lanes and clamor of hidden merpeople at work—fell away to a heavy, liquid silence. Water gurgled around tails and limbs, pulsing in Rachel’s ears. She shook her head, like her ears needed to pop.

  Ahead, thick poles stood in the center of a giant paddock, attached lead lines rustling with the movement of an entire hippocampi herd. The beasts tracked the group with their glassy black eyes and tugged closer, making their lines creak against the iron rings pounded into the anchor poles. A hippocampus swam close, and Rachel paddled nearer to get a better look. She’d only ever seen the animal in the Corpus, and the odd form of the mar-beast intrigued her. The animal was massive, at least as large as a horse. Her face was reflected in its black eyes, yet where a land horse would have long lashes, here the hippocampus had a second fish eyelid that slid like a film over its eye. Behind ear stalks, it had a ridge of flowing hair—something between a mane and a bouquet of kelp—running from the top of its horse-like face and down its neck. But where a horse had four legs, this hippocampus had a b
ack that curved in an S and ended in the rigid tail of a giant seahorse.

  The hippocampus whickered and nudged its head forward, like it wanted a nice pet atop its head and possibly a sugar cube. Rachel nearly had her hand over the fence when Kai grabbed her wrist.

  “Careful,” the merman said sharply. He plucked a frond of reddish-brown seaweed from a nearby clump and held it out for the hippocampus. The beast wriggled closer, sniffed at the seaweed, then snapped at it with alarmingly serrated teeth. Forget grass-chewing horse teeth, these were something Rachel expected to see inside the business end of a shark. The seaweed was shredded in seconds.

  Rachel reared back, to the apparent delight of Mallu. “Yes,” the old merman said with a piercing laugh. “Not quite the same at the beasts I remember from my youth walking on land.”

  Mallu swam closer, and the hippocampus shied away with a whinny. But the older merman jutted a pewter hand out and ruffled the hippocampus’ mane. The beast whinnied again, its nose opening in a snort. Mallu laughed and slapped at the side of the hippocampus’ head. It jerked, its whole body going stiff with the slap and its nostrils flaring wide.

  “Hippocampi are sensitive to their surroundings,” Kai said, nervousness lacing his deep voice. He peered through the water, eyes narrowed. “They can sense what we—”

  But then the beast bucked wildly, the curved tail lashing out and knocking against one of the anchor poles.

  Rachel pushed away from the wall, her kicks short and powerful.

  A shriek tore from the hippocampus, something high and keening that quivered through the water. The sound made her brain ache. The frightened hippocampus bucked again—once, twice. Nearby, more of the herd shook their heads and started shrieking. It was a terrible sound, shattering against Rachel’s exposed skin and scraping down her arms and legs.

  “Grey!” Kai’s voice punched through the water. “The herd!”

  But then the water dissolved into frenzied hippocampi shrieks and angry bubbles. Rachel twisted against the torrent, but the water pressed in on her, a whole ocean like lead on her shoulders and chest. She tried to slow her heart, slow her breathing, but every breath was quick and shallow. Everything in her demanded to open her mouth wide, to breathe. But down here, that meant death. Rachel clamped her teeth down around the regulator, her jaw aching with the ferocity of it, and pulled a thin breath in from her tank. The shrieks were a terrible chorus now, a then they were joined by a low groan. The anchor poles were giving way.

  Sand whipped up in a storm around Rachel, and she jerked in a circle as a thick lead line snapped against her arm. Something tore past her, shrieking as it went. Another hippocampus butted its head into her chest, pummeling the breath out of Rachel and flinging her backward. She landed against something solid and already had her pitiful blade out to defend herself when she recognized Sid’s gray eyes. They were wide with fear.

  Sid grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her through the water, but Rachel wrenched away. Somewhere in the murk, someone screamed—loud and high. Rachel spun, her heart hammering. That scream, it’d sounded like Kendra. Sand and torn kelp and empty lead lines surged around her, hippocampi appearing out of the murk like specters. Rachel’s muscles quivered with impotence. She was helpless down here, just a floating chum bag. She needed to do something. Sid tried again to grab her arm, but Rachel shook her head violently. She spit out her regulator—“Mom! Kendra!”—but the words came out muddy as the whipped up water.

  Another hand shot out of the churn and grabbed hold of Rachel’s arm. The water cleared around Grey, green eyes flashing and the sharp planes of his face tight with fear. “Have you seen Kendra?” There was terror in his voice.

  Rachel shook her head again. Dammit. She needed to be able to speak. She spit out the regulator again and mouthed the word Mom?

  “She’s with Kai. But I can’t find Kendra or Mallu.” Grey whipped his head to the side as another shriek tore through the water. “Get back into the city. I’ll find them.”

  Everything in Rachel pulled her back, back to make sure her mom and best friend were okay, but Sid dragged her onward. They kicked their legs, yet the herd of hippocampi stampeded around them. One of the powerful beasts buffeted against her side, and Rachel was thrown into one of the shell fences. A yelp of pain tore up her throat as the shells sliced down her side, ripping open her wetsuit. There was a roar beside her, and blood bloomed in the water. Sid appeared at her side, his dive blade held out in front of him and an injured hippocampus snapping at him. Behind it, another frenzied beast butted into the creature’s back, and the animals rolled over together, carried away on a current of their brethren as they snapped and tore at each other.

  Sid and Rachel darted over a field of kelp, the spires of the mer city growing closer with each kick. Yet blood still leaked from Rachel’s side, and Sid had a nasty bite on his forearm. Hippocampi darted and surged around them, but the herd was thinning, spreading out over the city. Sid grabbed Rachel under an arm and hauled her down a narrow alley.

  The water turned midnight black the deeper they swam into the alley. Shafts of light pierced gaps in the twisting coral overhead, but it was just pinpricks in the dark. Ahead, a circle of lighter blue signaled the end of the alley, but a shadow fell across it. A shriek echoed down the alley and turned the contents of Rachel’s stomach.

  Haloed in light, the hippocampus reared its head. Then it charged.

  Its iridescent body caught the flashes of meager light. Closer. Then closer still. Rachel clutched her blade in her fist, but she couldn’t see a thing. A surge of water exploded around her, the current blasting off the hippocampus’ charge. There was a scream, then a terrible roar boiled through the water. Something glanced off her—she thought she felt Sid’s arm—then the coral above her trembled with the force of something being slammed into the rock of the alley. The water went absolutely still for one horrible moment, then she was flipping end over end, knocking off rough stone walls and coral that bit into her skin. Her arms caught up in a tangle of mane and ridged skin. She slashed out with her blade, but she had no idea if she sliced true.

  The water was lighter now, a gray dawn, and she could just see the glassy black of the hippocampus’ eyes before it butted its head into her stomach. It reared back, and she knocked its snout away with a fist as it tried to snap its jaws around her middle. The pair burst from the end of the alley back into blue. Rachel’s back scraped up against a stone building, and the hippocampus darted close, snapping its teeth together.

  But Sid wasn’t far behind. Blood leaked from the side of his head like smoke as he tore from the alley, but his hand was tight around his blade. He slashed out at the beast. Its tail punched out, landing a blow straight into Sid’s chest. His eyes went cloudy for a second, but he shook his head and charged again. The hippocampus reared and snapped—its teeth clamped down on Sid’s oxygen tank, a jet of air streaming from the tank.

  The beast yanked Sid back toward the alley. Rachel’s eyes went wide, and she darted closer. Sid was stuck in his harness. He thrashed against the hippocampus, but he was yanked back again—back into the alley’s gloom. Rachel grabbed his straps and sliced. Her fingers fumbled with the straps, slipping and losing grip. A scream burned up her throat and the light failed in the alley.

  Rachel sawed again and again. The last threads of the straps held tight. And then they burst. Rachel and Sid tumbled end over end back into the light. Sid’s body went slack without oxygen, his head lolled. Rachel grabbed him and shook him fiercely then shoved her own regulator into his mouth. “Breathe,” she commanded. Sid pushed the regulator hard against his lips and sucked air.

  She let him breathe until her lungs seared, then pointed to herself and took a few blessed mouthfuls of clear, cold air before passing it back. She inched her fingers up the back of Sid’s head, feeling for whatever cut had him bleeding out so badly. He groaned when her fingers hit it, a deep gash along the left side of his head. Rachel clamped her eyes shut for a moment and dug d
eep for strength. She had to get them out of this, back to the surface. Rachel hooked her arm around Sid’s back and under his armpits and held tight, then she kicked.

  It was like dragging a bag of stones. Dragging limp, partially unconscious stones while also holding her breath. She only took back her regulator when she felt ready to burst, when pops of black floated in her vision. Her legs screamed and her lungs burned, but still Rachel kept swimming, one kick at a time.

  Blue all around. They were still so deep she couldn’t even see the surface, only the tall coral spires and the pockmarked cliff. The water was a thousand million arms, pulling her down, trying to drown her. But then another arm touched her own. Rachel wrenched around, pulled Sid tight to her chest before relaxing just the tiniest bit.

  Grey shoved a shoulder under Sid’s arm. “I know a shortcut,” the merman said.

  Rachel frowned. How could there be a shortcut out of the water? Grey pointed to the cliff looming before them. “There are air pockets at low tide.”

  Rachel didn’t need to hear anything past “air.” She nodded once, and they dragged Sid, whose eyes had gone unfocused, between them.

  A trail of blood wafted from Sid’s head as they swam. Rachel tried not to think about it, only concentrate on kicking her legs, slicing her arms through water. They stopped right before the cliff, close enough to count each silky strand of algae waving in the currents. Rachel’s legs were jelly, her arms dead weight, but carefully she breathed in a few more lungfuls of air and passed the regulator back to Sid.

  Behind them, the mer city was blurry, a mirage barely visible through the scrum of sand and shells kicked up by the rampaging hippocampi. Was her mom trapped down there? Was Kendra okay? Grey followed her gaze. “Your mom is safe with Kai, but I haven’t found Kendra yet.” His voice wavered, and he closed his eyes for a second. “As soon as I get you out, I’ll head back for her.” His green eyes went hard and fierce. “I’ll find her, Rachel.”