//------------------------------// // 23. A City in the Coral // Story: Love, Sugar, and Sails // by DSNesmith //------------------------------// Meri had been gone for two or three minutes; long enough for Rye and Tyria to bury the awkward silence with small talk. “Seaponies,” Rye said, shaking his head in wonder. “I’ll be honest, I thought most of them died off centuries ago.” “I love the way they move,” said Tyria dreamily, watching a school of fish dart past. “They’re so graceful, all curved sweeps and arching leaps from the water. Once when I was little, my family visited Antellucía. We went to see the Temple of Mersicori on the tip of the peninsula. It has frescoes of the seaponies all over the ceiling. They didn’t move, of course, but they were majestic all the same.” “How long have they been down here, I wonder?” Rye scratched his left shoulder. “This ‘New Phoenixia’ sounds like a well-established settlement.” “Hopefully long enough that at least some of them know where Zyre is,” said Tyria. “As gorgeous as this place is, I don’t plan on eating seaweed for the rest of my life.” Rye caught movement from far out on the reef. “Well, we’ll know soon enough. Meri’s back.” She swam toward them, smoothly cutting through the water like a pegasus flying through the air. Rye nodded slowly, entranced. “You’re right, the way she moves is beautiful.” “Hey, now,” said Tyria, arching an eyebrow. “In an aesthetic sense,” Rye amended, hurriedly. Tyria just winked. Meri arrived at the portal, poking her head back through the barrier and sending more bubbles up toward the surface. She pushed her hooves out of the water, each holding what looked like an ordinary starfish. “Put these on.” Rye took the one from her right hoof, eyeing it dubiously. “Uh… how, exactly?” “Just slap them over your mouths.” Meri demonstrated, placing the remaining starfish over her snout, one of its five stubby legs between her eyes. She cringed a bit, and suddenly the creature’s back inflated like a lung. Tyria’s head jerked back. She blinked, recovering her composure. “Well, that’s odd-looking.” Meri grimaced, then raised a hoof and tickled the back of the creature on her face. The air bladder deflated, and the starfish-like creature came off her face with a quiet popping sound. She held it up toward Tyria, sticking her tongue out in distaste. “I hate these things.” Rye took a deep breath and held his up to his face. “You’ve used them before? Why would seaponies need air supplies?” “Long dives can take several hours. These creatures are really useful, but… they take some getting used to.” Meri’s mouth tightened as Tyria took the second creature. “Try not to tense up.” Meri’s evasiveness made Rye more uneasy than a straight warning. With a sigh, he narrowed his eyes and laid the thing over his mouth and nose. He felt it squeeze against him, pushing out any pockets of air to make the seal watertight. For one moment, he had a sudden flash of panic, as he tried to inhale and found nothing to breathe. Then he felt something shove itself into his mouth and down his throat. His eyes flying wide open, he clutched at his throat with his hooves, falling over. Desperately, he tried to pull the thing off his face before it suffocated him, but it clung to him like it was stuck on with tar. He could feel that horrible tendril in his throat taking root, like some ghastly plant. “Breathe!” said Meri, wide-eyed and gesturing with her hooves. “Relax, inhale normally! Don’t tighten your muscles, or it’ll just try harder.” Rye’s vision was starting to go fuzzy at the edges. His throat burning, he tried to gasp, to inhale— And found his lungs filling with the cleanest, freshest air he’d ever breathed. Blinking in surprise, he breathed in again, feeling his chest rise, and seeing the air sac on the creature’s back expand. He looked over at Tyria, who had the second star creature plastered on her face. She was pressing her hooves to her throat with shock in her eyes, but seemed to be breathing. She bent over and gave a muffled cough. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” Meri said, holding her hooves up to her mouth. “I always heard that telling someone what happens before their first try makes it worse.” Rye tried to give an outraged refutation of that notion, but trying to talk around the air tube shoved down his throat was impossible. It came out as an angry, unintelligible mumble. Meri looked positively distraught. “I’m really sorry. I wish we had a better way to help surfacers breathe underwater. Are you—do you still need a minute?” Rye and Tyria both nodded quickly, still trying not to choke. Thankfully, Rye found that he was quick to adjust to the thing. After twenty seconds, he was almost breathing normally. Meri smiled hesitantly as the two ponies stood up, swaying a bit. “I’ll take you to the meeting hall, if you’re ready. You don’t have to do anything once you’re in the water, the airstars should have collected plenty of air from the room by now. Just keep breathing.” Should have? Rye couldn’t concentrate on much besides sucking down each breath to worry about it. He nodded, dazed. Meri beckoned. “Okay, come on out!” She ducked back into the water and moved back from the entrance. Tyria stepped forward first, cautiously poking a hoof through the bubble’s surface. Visibly bracing herself, she slid into the water, floating outward. She gave a few experimental kicks, then swam out to join Meri. She turned around and waved. Rye felt a bead of sweat on the back of his neck. You can do this. Sure, you can’t swim worth a damn, but you won’t drown. Just get it over with. He took it at a run, plunging through the water barrier and into the sea. The water was unexpectedly cool, even this close to the sunbathed warmth of the surface. Momentum carried him slowly forward, his robes billowing in the water. Rye closed his eyes and inhaled. The airstar obliged, filling his lungs as its holding pouch deflated slightly, blowing back up as he breathed out. Rye opened his eyes and looked around. The water here was crystal-clear, so clean he could see for what seemed like miles in any direction not blocked by the building. His eyes stung a little from the salt in the water, but a few blinks and the irritation was barely noticeable. He gazed out at the explosions of life and color that covered the ocean floor around them. There was a nudge from his right. He turned to see Meri holding out a hoof with a smile. Behind her, Tyria was already holding her other foreleg like a safety bar, looking up at the wildlife swimming all around them. Rye followed suit, locking his forelegs over Meri’s. She jostled them both a bit to make sure they were holding on tightly enough, then with a mighty pulse of her tail they were off. The ride was surprisingly smooth. Meri swam with undulating grace, swiftly cutting through the water even with her two charges. The shark, Vina, followed close behind them, swaying her body side-to-side. The water streamed past, pulling Rye’s mane out of his eyes, giving him a clear view of the reef as they moved. They passed more ruins in a various states of disrepair; dilapidated buildings that looked ready to collapse, half-broken towers with seaweed poking through every crack, and a few structures that had been so reclaimed by the ocean that only the shape of the coral covering them indicated that there had ever been a building there. The concentration of buildings grew thicker as Meri swam on, but their condition worsened. Rye guessed they were heading deeper into the old city, closer to the eruption’s epicenter and the worst damage. Suddenly, the coral dropped away beneath them, crawling down a dozen-meter cliff. Before them stretched out more of the reef, covering the seafloor as far as the eye could see, but eventually vanishing into the endless blue of the open ocean. It was big. He had seen mountains so large they covered the sun and stars, but this void could hold a thousand of them and still look empty. The sheer enormity of it defied belief; a sight that instantly filled him with awe. Rye felt like he’d fallen upward into the sky. He felt strangely dizzy, a slight tremor running through his spine; not fear, exactly, but a primal and physical response completely unfamiliar to a half-pegasus. Aha. So this is what vertigo is like. Meri turned downward, bringing them back toward the surface of the reef. Two large shapes came rushing out to meet them, and Rye recognized a pair of new seaponies; stallions, judging from their bulky body structures. One had a long, lethal-looking trident held in the crook of his foreleg. Fortunately, they both bore smiles on their faces, and came to a stop at a friendly distance. One opened his mouth and made a series of noises, ranging from clicks to whistles. Meri responded in kind, with a few high-pitched fluting sounds added in. It was almost like listening to bird song, but the seapony tongue had a resonance and an echo through the water unlike any surface creature Rye had ever heard. The two seapony stallions eyed the surfacers curiously, squeaking and chirping a few more questions at Meri. Whatever she said back seemed to satisfy them, and the one with the trident swam past Meri in the direction she and the Equestrians had come from. The other continued speaking with Meri for another few moments, before nodding and taking off like a shot down toward the reef. Meri swam on, and Rye had the sudden impression that they had entered seapony territory proper. There were dozens of them, now, loosely scattered around the reef. Some were gathered around large stands of seaweed, eating or harvesting, it was hard to tell. Others were swimming in elaborate dances, making fluting whistles that carried hundreds of meters to Rye’s ears. Were they playing? Fighting? Rye couldn’t guess. Abruptly, Meri jerked to a halt as a group of small seaponies went zooming past them, followed by an exasperated-looking mare. Rye craned his head around her back to get a look at them as they disappeared into the distance. Seapony foals. Guppies? he thought wryly. I see they’re just as hyperactive as surfacers’. Seaponies gave them inquisitive looks as they passed, a few calling out greetings or questions to Meri. She always replied, though Rye had no idea what she was saying. He spared a glance over at Tyria, who appeared to be enjoying the ride. She had that look in her eye, the concentrated memorizing gaze of an artist envisioning a piece. I wonder if she’ll be painting temple ceilings, someday. He was certain Celestia was still looking for artists and artisans for the reconstruction of the castle. Rye made a mental note to mention it to Tyria later. Meri continued on, and Rye finally caught sight of what had to be their final destination. It looked like the remains of an old town hall or griffon-style basilica; a wide block of a building with a central rotunda. The dome was still intact, though he could see a slow, steady stream of bubbles escaping through cracks in the stone. The entire structure was tilted forward almost thirty degrees. They passed through the entrance colonnades, arriving in a short hallway much like those in the previous building. Meri followed it down until it opened into a massive, circular room, underneath the great dome. Rye could see the shimmering surface of a large pocket of air above them. Meri rose until they broke the surface with a splash, sending water everywhere. Rye blinked to clear his eyes and pulled his sodden mane out of his face. “Okay, get on the platform,” said Meri. She pointed to the back of the room, where a balcony rose from the water. It was part of a ring that encircled the entire third floor of the rotunda chamber, brought out of the water by the building’s steep tilt. Patches of the luminescent moss covered the marble in myriad places. Tyria swam over to it and clambered out, dripping water all over the marble. She turned to Meri and pointed sharply at the airstar on her muzzle. “Oh! Right, sorry,” said Meri. “Draw your hoof across its back, tickle it a little.” Following the instructions, Tyria’s eyes suddenly widened and she began coughing. The airstar came off her face with a pop and fell to the floor, deflating. Tyria sat heavily on the smooth marble, rubbing her throat with a nauseated look. Rye prodded his own airstar, and felt a disquieting tremble run through the thing all the way down to his lungs. The tentacle, or tube, or whatever it was, slid back up and out of his throat, and the creature fell off into the water with a splash. He took a deep gulp of air, then found himself overtaken by a hacking cough. “Again, I’m really sorry about those,” said Meri, swimming gently over to the balcony, where Tyria helped Rye pull himself out of the pool. “They’re horrible little creatures, but we haven’t found anything better for holding air on long dives.” Tyria looked like she was holding back vomit. “That might be the most unpleasant thing I’ve ever felt.” Rye didn’t trust himself to respond without losing his last meal all over the balcony. Instead, he took off his robes, rolled them up, gripped one end with his mouth and began wringing them out. Out of morbid curiosity, he glanced down at his left shoulder. The ugly black skull mark had mostly faded by now, replaced by a thin white outline. Not so bad, really. My fur’s almost the same color, you can barely see it under the coat unless you know where to look. It itched, though. He scratched it absently, unrolling his damp robes to put back on. Meri hummed absently. “They should be here soon. I asked Liniric to talk to Keron for me; that’s what that little conversation on the edge of the city was about.” She looked at the two of them with tentative excitement. “So, what do you think of our home?” “It’s very… big,” said Rye, testing his voice. His throat was a little sore, but it wasn’t debilitating. “How far do the ruins go?” “Far.” Meri’s expression grew reflective. “They were packed closer together, once, but they’ve been spreading out for nearly a millennium as the earth moves.” “The what?” Tyria raised an eyebrow. “The ground moves under the ocean. Really slowly, it takes a long time to see anything; but sometimes around volcanoes the movement can be pretty fast, hundreds of years instead of hundreds of thousands.” Meri looked down toward the entrance, as if envisioning the ocean beyond. “I’ve heard that deep in the Black, there are mountain ranges thirty thousand miles long, where the earth moves so much you can hear it rumbling. Other places, too—one of the older ponies here swears he felt it shift forty years ago, off the coast of Sorterra. That is still what surfacers call the continent southeast of here, right?” Rye nodded, but restrained himself from voicing his doubts about her fanciful-sounding descriptions. The only time he’d ever heard of the earth moving was in catastrophic magical events, like the doom of Phoenixia. Still, if this was some long-held seapony belief, he didn’t want to offend them. “What’s the Black?” asked Tyria. Meri wilted. “Everything below. Past the shelf. There’s no light there, only darkness. We… we don’t go there.” She shuddered and fell silent. Behind them, three heads burst through the surface of the water. Meri’s head popped up and she turned. “Uncle! I want you to meet—” The pony in the middle cut her off with a series of clicks and whistles. His eyes were narrowed, and his jaw firmly set. Rye couldn’t tell whether his words were castigation or threat, but from the way Meri hung her head, he guessed the former. Feeling sympathetic for the pony who had saved his life, he interjected, “Excuse me. Are you Keron?” The pony stopped his rapid speaking, blinking and giving Rye a confused look. “I’m Rye Strudel, Ambassador of Equestria. My friend here is Tyria Metrel, from the embassy in Zyre.” “I am Keron,” the pony acknowledged stiffly. “Greetings, surfacer. I am afraid I cannot say it is a pleasure.” He glared back at Meri. “How many times have I told you, Meri?” “I…” She looked back up at him. “I’m sorry, Uncle, I know you don’t want me leaving, but—” “I don’t want to hear it! You know better, Meri. It’s not safe outside the city. What was so important that you had to sneak out? Finding more seashells? Looking for sunken ships?” Meri shook her head, subdued. “I was gathering sweet-grass.” Keron closed his eyes and put a hoof to his forehead in a familiar look of exasperation. Rye was uncomfortably reminded of the many times he’d seen it on Tyria’s face. Keron rubbed his forehead, sighing. “You risked your life for gourmet seaweed? Meri, you’re smarter than this.” “It’s not just for me,” she said, suddenly fierce. “Vina hates being cooped up on the reef. It’s big, but it gets boring just swimming over the same ruins over and over again. She needs the open ocean sometimes, and so do I.” Keron’s hard gaze softened. “I know you hate it, but it’s for your safety, Meri. What would your father say if he knew you’d done this?” She turned her head, biting her lip. Rye felt this was the time to step in, before things got any more heated. He waved a hoof and made a hasty bow. “Keron, whatever rules she broke, she saved our lives by doing so. And if you help us get back to Zyre, she’ll have saved thousands more.” The stallion in the water frowned, looking up at him. A trio of shark fins intermittently poked up around the seaponies, but they seemed not to notice. At last, Keron spoke. “That… is not possible, right now.” “Then take us to Zendruga. Or even the Sugarheart Isles, I’m sure we can find a village there with a boat. Anywhere; we just need to get moving as soon as possible.” Keron shook his head. “You misunderstand. We cannot leave the city.” He glared back at Meri for a moment. “As some of us would do well to remember.” “Why not?” “We’re… under siege,” said Keron, after a moment, “by monsters from the Black. They come up every few nights, attacking our borders. They kill or carry off another pony every week, it seems. I can’t split what few guards we have to protect the herd and another party. And if I send you with only one or two of us to Zyre, you’ll likely be waylaid by the creatures before you get ten miles. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here, for now.” Rye narrowed his eyes. “What are they?” “I don’t know,” said Keron, his frown deepening. “They are as varied as they are deadly. Some have tentacles with stinging venom, others have beaks that can shatter bone; still others have claws that can maim a pony with one snap.” Tyria frowned. “I can’t say I recognize the description. Even chimerae tend to be made of the same bits and pieces as each other.” “I don’t know what they’re called,” said Keron. “But they’re beasts, all kinds of sea-life twisted into disgusting hybrids.” Rye’s eyes narrowed further. “There’s nothing wrong with hybrids.” Keron noticed his wings and horn, raising an eyebrow. “I meant no offense, surfacer. They aren’t like you. They aren’t like us, either—they aren’t a blending of multiple races, but a cobbled-together mish-mash of body parts. Like an amateur toymaker sewing broken dolls together.” He grimaced. “All of them are violent, savage creatures. They come at night, attacking our herd, picking off the old and the infirm. Our sharks are a great help, but even they have not been able to protect us from all of the attacks.” “How many are there?” asked Tyria. She didn’t sound curious—she sounded like she was gathering intelligence. Rye hoped she realized that neither of them knew anything about fighting underwater. “That’s the strangest part,” said Keron, looking at his two companions, who both nodded grimly. “We don’t think there are many of them at all, perhaps twenty or thirty in total. But even though we have fought them off, time and again, they return.” He faltered. “I saw one of the monsters cut nearly in half by the bite of a shark, only to be dragged away by its fellows to return the next night, seemingly unharmed.” Rye bent his head forward, disbelieving. “You’re sure it was the same one?” Keron’s eyes looked hollow. “I saw the scars of teeth on its belly. Right above the tentacles.” “What in the world?” Tyria muttered. “Healing that quickly… I’ve never heard of anything like these.” “Nor have we.” Keron’s gaze fell. “They’ve killed too many of us already. We would leave, take our families somewhere safe—but I cannot. Not until I know the ones they’ve taken alive are not—not still captives, inside their lair. I will not abandon them to these creatures, not if I can still save them.” He hesitated. “One of those taken was Berin, my brother… and Meri’s father.” Meri sniffed. “Two years ago, now.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve buried everything but a body, but my uncle still thinks he’s alive—” “He must be!” Keron burst, before closing his mouth and taking a deep breath. “I won’t leave him to die, nor any of the other brothers, mothers, or children that have been stolen from us.” Meri shook her head sadly. “We should have left months ago, Uncle. We’re only risking more lives by staying.” Keron did not answer, instead looking back to the two Equestrians. Rye had a bad feeling he knew where this was going. “Where’s their lair?” “Deep down in the Black. Almost a mile below the shelf, far beyond the last vestiges of sunlight. It’s a ruined structure from the old city. Nothing lives there but these creatures, as far as I know. The surface of the sea above is torn by a vast maelstrom; not a suitable environment for the living.” Keron swallowed. “The scout who returned with this information was one of six I sent out. He was the only one to return.” Rye felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. “Beneath the maelstrom?” There’s some powerful magic down there. I could feel it even on the Nightingale when we passed through the storm. Who knows what it’s done to these creatures? “Yes. Somewhere near the center, I believe. That’s one of the reasons we haven’t tried to attack them all at once. The other… we can’t fight well in the Black. It’s impossible to see three meters in front of you, even with glow moss. There are too few of us, anyway. Only twenty who have any experience driving off dangerous beasts, and none of us have been in a battle. We aren’t warriors. And even if we managed to get to their home, the ruin is filled with air. We couldn’t do much without bringing the entire building down.” Keron looked drawn. “So we stay here, and the creatures slowly bleed us dry, while we try to think of a plan that will work.” “Not for much longer,” said Tyria firmly. “Take us to their lair. We’ll find your missing ones, rescue them if they’re alive—or tell you if they’re not. And then you can leave, take us to Zyre, and we can try to save our home.” Keron was taken aback. “I can’t ask this of you. Or our guards. Going down there would be suicide for all involved.” Rye sighed internally. As loathe as he was to go into a dark, wet place filled with monsters, Tyria had the right of it. This seemed to be their best bet of getting back on track to Zyre. He cleared his throat and cast a glance toward Tyria, who nodded with a small affirming smile. “Keron, I don’t plan on staying down here for very long. If the only way you’ll help us on our way is to get your people back, then that’s what we’re doing. Besides,” his voice softened, “if we can save your families, we will.” Keron sank a little lower in the water, thinking. “I can’t ask any of my people to go.” “Then ask for volunteers,” said Meri, a fierce spark in her eyes. “I’ll go, if no one else will. The sooner we end this, the sooner we can all be safe.” “Absolutely not,” said Keron, his jaw tight. “I promised Berin I’d take care of you if anything happened to him. I’m not letting you go out there, Meri.” “Then let them go,” she insisted. “I saved their lives. Let them save my father’s, if they can.” Keron closed his eyes and slowly nodded. “Very well. I will gather a group of volunteers. If the creatures don’t attack, you can leave tonight.” Rye nodded. “All right. I think we’d rather wait here, if it’s all the same to you.” He wasn’t looking forward to putting that airstar back on. Keron nodded again, and vanished beneath the water, followed by his two fellows. Meri turned back to them with wary hope. “Thank you. I don’t… I don’t expect you’ll find my father alive, down there, but even if all of them are dead… thank you for trying.” She swallowed. “I don’t want to leave New Phoenixia. We’ve lived here for decades—I was born here. But I’d rather we lost our home than lose all our lives trying to defend it. Just make sure you return, or Uncle might decide to stay after all.” “Don’t worry, we’ll find them,” said Tyria. “We’re magnets for danger.” Rye grinned. Starting to get used to it, Tyria? He nodded to Meri. “Could we get some food?” “Sure,” she said, still subdued. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She dived. Tyria watched the ripples travel across the surface of the water. Her eyes lit up. “Rye, take off your robes.” “Uh?” Rye raised an eyebrow. “You,” she said, testing the water with a hoof, “are going to start learning how to swim.” He laughed. “Well, why not? I suppose it’s about time.” Unclasping his robes, he folded them and set them down on the marble. “Where do we start?” “Let’s work on floating, first.” Not bothering to take her simple beige shirt off, Tyria slid into the water, holding onto the edge of the balcony with a hoof. “Come on in.” Rye slipped in, shivering at the cold water. He clapped his hooves to the marble lip of the platform, looking sideways. “Okay.” “Take a deep breath and relax,” she said, swimming a short distance from the edge. “Let your limbs spread out; try to maximize your surface area. When you’re ready, move away from the wall. Don’t worry, I’m here if you go under.” Rye inhaled nervously. Spreading his legs like she’d instructed, he slowly pushed himself away from the balcony. The water rose to his face, but his nose stayed above it for a few moments before he sank under. Before he could start to panic, Tyria’s forelegs threaded under his from behind, pulling him up above the surface. He shivered at the cold touch of her chest against his back. Tyria made a hmm of approval. “Not bad, for a first effort. All right, let’s try again.” They continued, making small progress as the minutes passed. By the time Meri returned with seaweed rolls, Rye had managed to float unaided for twenty seconds. They took a break for dinner, munching on the seaweed. It tasted terribly bitter and wet, but it had been days since either had had a full meal, and weeks since they’d had a good one, so both ate without complaint. After they’d finished the food, the lessons resumed. Rye had picked up the basics of an undignified doggy paddle by the end of the third hour, when Keron’s head broke from the water beside them. “It’s nearly dark out,” he said. “Those who will take you into the Black have gathered outside the building. Here, take this. It was the only surfacer weapon I could find in our stores. Our tridents will be of little use to you inside that cramped building.” With one hoof he held up a long knife, sheathed in a simple leather holder with a small belt; and with the other, a pair of airstars. “Are you ready?” Tyria nodded, taking the blade and buckling the sheathe around her left foreleg. “Let’s go.” Rye took the offered airstar, hoping that the second time would be easier than the first. He placed the creature on his face, trying to relax. As he gagged on the air tube, he couldn’t help but wonder if drowning might be preferable.