The Deep (14 page)

Even in the dismal, oily lairlight it flashes brilliantly. My eyes dazzle, although I’m not facing the mirror. But the flash catches Faro. He claps his hands over his eyes. The mirror blast has struck him full in the face.

“I told you that mirror was cursed,” he mutters.

“Faro! Are you hurt?”

“Blinded me—wait—”

Faro puts out his hand, pushing me away. His tail lashes with the pain of the mirror burn.
Don’t let him be blind, don’t let him be blind,
I plead in my head.

“It’s coming back. I can see you now. Don’t look so scared, little sister.”

“Let me see.”

Faro allows me, and I look into his eyes. They’re bloodshot, but the life is back in them. “Oh, Faro, I was so scared.”

Faro looks gratified. “That mirror’s definitely cursed,” he says, and shakes his head as if he wants to shake away those seconds of fear when we both thought the mirror might have damaged his sight forever.

But the Kraken is back again. This time he skitters up to us in the form of a shrimp. I let my hand drop so the mirror is behind my back.

“It’s only silly little me again,” he says, coy and ingratiating, but the water throbs with a hundred tons of hatred, malice, and rage. “I don’t get many visitors, so I try to put on a good show. Now remind me, why is it you came?”

Is he going to stay a shrimp? Yes, it seems he is, for the time being anyway. A little, harmless shrimp. Why would anyone want to hurt him?

Stop that, Sapphire. Think your own thoughts, and don’t let the Kraken into your head.

I’m still holding the mirror. Its weight drags my left hand down. It would be so easy to let go of it. That’s what the Kraken wants. Why not let him have what he wants? He’s only a little, harmless shrimp with quivery whiskers and a cute tail. He’s not going to do any harm—

He’s a Kraken. A monster. He devours children.

“You’re the Kraken,” I say aloud. “You kill Mer children.”

The shrimp convulses with laughter. “Kill children! Wherever did you get that ridiculous idea? Kill children indeed. If people want to bring their children to the threshold of the Deep and abandon them and then blame it on me, what can I do? It’s always the poor old Kraken who gets the blame. It’s been the same since time began. As soon as a person like me tries to make a better world, you find someone else pointing the finger and calling him a murderer.”

The shrimp’s self-righteousness is horribly convincing.
I glance at Conor uneasily.

“He’s lying,” says Faro. “Can’t you hear the slime of lies in his voice?”

For a flash of a moment a monstrous Claw Creature swells up, and then the Kraken is a shrimp again. “Don’t worry,” he says meekly. “I’m used to being misunderstood.”

“That’s just as well,” says Conor. The Claw Creature bulges like a threatening phantom for a thousandth of a second, and then the Kraken brings himself under control. I try to look as if I haven’t noticed anything.

“I don’t think you should be so harsh to the Kraken, Conor,” I say. “Maybe he’s right, and we’re not being fair to him. Think of all the stuff we were told about what a monster he was. But how could an innocent little shrimp shake the seafloor so that half of Ingo is destroyed? How could a harmless creature like that hurt a child? It’s obvious he can’t. Look at him.”

Faro and Conor turn horrified, disbelieving faces toward me. The shrimp gives a skip of joy.

“At last, someone who understands me.”

I stare at the thing and have to hold myself rigid to stop my body shuddering all over with revulsion. I’m on the Kraken’s wavelength now. I understand him. The bile of his barely suppressed rage and cruelty seeps through the lairlight and sickens me. But I swallow down my nausea and continue earnestly, “I’m sure the Kraken’s only trying
to help the Mer, really. They just don’t understand him.”

Faro hisses through his teeth, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing, but Conor’s watching me narrowly.

“Saldowr’s supposed to be so wise”—I go on—“but he doesn’t know everything. Anyway, people are already saying Saldowr’s past it.”

I wait for Faro to erupt, but nothing happens. Conor has laid a restraining hand on his shoulder, but Faro doesn’t need it. He’s picked up what I’m trying to do, and his eyes glow with excitement.

“Past it,” squeaks the shrimp, his voice vibrating with glee and spite, “past it past it past it. I knew it would happen! Saldowr thinks he’s so great, but he couldn’t fight the Tide Knot, could he? Could he could he could he could he?”

“No,” I say, making myself sound regretful and ashamed. “We thought he could do anything, but well, we were wrong. And I think he was wrong about you. He just didn’t want us to be friends with you because you’re more powerful than he is. But—but we do.”

“You do? Really really really really? More than anything? But what if you’re just a little human wiggle-waggle-wiggle-tongue who’ll say anything if it gets you out of a tight place? Words words words words words. What if you’re trying to trick the poor little Kraken?”

The shrimp zigzags in front of me until my eyes hurt from trying to follow him. “What if what if what if what
if?” he needles me, hovering a few inches from my nose. I frown and then clap my hand to my forehead as if I’ve just come up with a wonderful idea. The shrimp darts away, still whining like a mosquito.

“Listen, we can prove we want to be friends. Friends give each other presents, don’t they?”

“Presents!” shrieks the shrimp.

And before he can repeat it a dozen times, I say quickly, “Yes, presents. We brought something into the Deep from Saldowr’s secret treasury. He doesn’t know we took it, but—oh, well, I don’t suppose he’ll mind really. It’s not as if we’re stealing it or anything. Anyway, even if he does, he can’t do much about it.” I force my features into an ingratiating smile. “Because—because of all the misunderstandings there’ve been between us, I’d like
you
to have it. As a present.”

“His treasury!” The shrimp is having a lot of trouble hiding his triumph. “My dear girl, you shouldn’t have. Shouldn’t have shouldn’t have shouldn’t have.” The shrimp releases a trill of titters. I don’t know which is worse: the Kraken’s horrible glee or his venomous spite.

“Conor tied it to his leg to hide it from Saldowr. Look. Here it is. We’ve brought it all the way to the Deep.”

With all my strength I lift the mirror, keeping its back to the Kraken. This time there’s no flash, but even so, the shrimp shoots back through the water, out of the lairlight and into the dark of the Deep.

“It’s a mirror,” I say in a soft, luring voice, “Saldowr’s mirror. It’s the only one like it in the world. No one’s supposed to look into it. Typical Saldowr. He always wants to keep the best things for himself.”

Silence. No response.
The Kraken’s seen through me. He knows it’s a trick.

I fight back a wave of despair. The whale gone, Conor’s power’s failing, the Kraken’s shape-shifting and laughing at us before he closes in for his revenge. Nothing’s working. There’s nothing left for us to do.

No. Don’t think those lairlight thoughts. We’ve got to keep fighting. We’ve got nothing to lose now.

“Saph, hold up the mirror so he can see it,” murmurs Conor.

I lift the heavy mirror again, up through the dragging water. My wrist aches as I move it from side to side slowly, tantalizingly, always keeping the mirror facedown so that the Kraken can’t see it.

“Saldowr’s mirror,” I muse as if to myself. “He’d be so angry if he knew we’d stolen it away and brought it to the Deep. He always keeps it in his treasury, because whoever looks into the mirror gains the mirror’s power; that’s how we were able to come to the Deep, of course. This mirror doesn’t show
you
; it shows what you could become.”

“Saph!” stage-whispers Conor ferociously. “You shouldn’t have said that!”

“It’s okay, Con, no one heard.”

The silence changes. Now it’s a waiting silence, full of temptation. The Kraken is greedy, but he’s cunning. Maybe he suspects that we can be cunning too.

At last, slowly and slyly, a shrimp’s antenna pokes through the darkness into the lairlight. “Coming, ready or not,” giggles the Kraken.

And there he is. He’s still in his shrimp shape, and I wonder why he’s not shape-shifting anymore. Maybe it’s got something to do with the mirror, or maybe the Kraken enjoys being a shrimp.

“But I don’t know what might happen if someone as powerful as the Kraken looked into the mirror,” I say. “He’s so strong already; maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Give it to me.” The voice snatches, forgetting to be coy.

“You’re too light,” I say. “The mirror would crush you. I suppose I could hold it up for you to look in if you like.”

“If I like.
If I like.
Oh, no no no no no no no. I don’t like at all. I don’t like doing what I’m told one single bit, because it makes me ask myself why people are telling me to do it. Why why why why why?
You
look in the mirror first,
myrgh kerenza
, and we’ll see what happens. And
I’ll
look over your shoulder, just to be sure, before I look for myself.”

I stare at the Kraken in horror. Look into the mirror here, now, in the Deep, without Saldowr’s protection? With the Kraken tittering at my shoulder? I can’t do it. I
won’t do it. Saldowr said the vision was only meant for one person, and no one else could spy on it. And what if the mirror flashes again and blinds me, maybe for good this time—

“I’ll do it,” says Faro casually, “if it will set your mind at rest.”

“You! You—you Mer boy. How can anything
you
see in the mirror be of interest to me?” asks the shrimp haughtily.

“You’re right—I don’t suppose it will be very interesting,” says Faro, keeping his voice as light and easy as if he’s teasing me in the sunwater on a summer’s day. “It’s not going to show
me
any glory. I’m not worth it. Just a common Mer boy who’s never done anything special in his life. But at least then you’ll know how the mirror works.”

The Kraken is still suspicious. “All this talk about mirrors,” he chitters. “I should have killed you hours ago. You’re taking up my time, and I don’t like that. Oh, no no no no no no.”

“If only I could look into the mirror when the Kraken does,” I say to Conor. “Imagine what he could become!” The Kraken pounces and swallows the bait.

“Mer boy first, Mer boy first. Let’s get him out of the way. He can have a look, and then he’ll find out what the mirror’s power has in store for him. He can have a look, and then he can die.”

Oh, Faro. My heart squeezes with terror for him.
Thousands of meters of dark water press me down. We are in the Deep, and there’s no rescue. Why did we come here? Why did we ever believe we could do anything against the Kraken?

Faro swims forward to the mirror as easily as if he’s swimming to catch a current. His lips are pressed tightly together. It’s the only sign of tension, and I don’t think the Kraken notices. He doesn’t know Faro, doesn’t know how brave he is and how he’s risked his life to come here—

“Faro!” I didn’t mean to say it. The word just escaped from my lips. His answering frown silences me.

“Hold up the mirror, little sister.”

It is the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. As I raise the mirror slowly, I feel as if I’m signing Faro’s death warrant. Once he’s looked into the mirror, the Kraken will kill him. Why did I ever start this?

Faro looks, and even in the lairlight he grows pale. I try to find him with my thoughts, but he’s made a wall around his mind, and I can’t get in. I don’t know what he’s seeing, but I can tell it cuts him to the heart.

The Kraken shrimp skitters toward the mirror. Cunningly he positions himself. He’s trying to spy on Faro’s reflection without seeing his own. The Kraken peeps side-long through the water in a paroxysm of spiteful relish. Can he really see what Faro sees, or is he just pretending? Maybe the mirror’s law doesn’t apply to the Kraken.

“Oh, Mer boy! Oh, silly silly little Mer boy who’s not
what he thinks he is! How upsetting! How terribly terribly terribly upsetting. But don’t worry, silly little Mer boy, because you’re not going to be upset for long. You’ll soon be dead dead dead dead dead, and you won’t have to worry about your blood because there won’t be any.”

I feel sick. The Kraken is winning again. No matter how hard we try, he turns everything inside out until he’s winning. He’s got to look into the mirror. I’ve got to persuade him. Tempt him. Convince him that he’ll really see something wonderful.

“Poor old Faro,” I say callously, and I wink at the Kraken. “The mirror hadn’t got much to show him, had it? Not much greatness there!” The Kraken snickers.

“Saldowr will be so angry,” I go on, making my voice frightened. “He was terrified in case you—”

“In case I what?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, Kraken. Anyway, he knew you wouldn’t look in the mirror. He said you couldn’t bear to see your own reflection.”

“Did he indeed? Indeed indeed indeed indeed,” chatters the Kraken. “Scared of my reflection? Scared of my shadow—did he say that?”

“N-no, please, please, Kraken, I shouldn’t have told you—”

“But you have told me. You humans are all blibber blabber blibber blabber. Saldowr didn’t want me to look into his precious mirror. Ha! He was scared. Scaredy scaredy
scaredy anemone. Wanting to keep his precious mirror to himself. He’s selfish. Selfish selfish selfish selfish. Always trying to cheat the Kraken out of what is rightfully his….”

He’s shifting. He’s moving closer to the mirror. It’s luring him. He wants to see greatness. His vanity is swelling, conquering fear and suspicion. He believes he’s going to see greatness.

“Ugly Mer boy,” he murmurs, “ugly, ugly little Mer boy. If I were you, I wouldn’t even want to be alive. But don’t worry, you’ll soon be dead. Dead dead—”

He stops himself and edges even closer to the mirror’s rim. “But before I bother to kill you,” he goes on, more quietly than ever in a voice like poisoned silk, “I’m going to cheat Saldowr. I’m going to have my turn with the mirror.”