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Merletta had no time to plan. She just reacted with the instinct born of many hours wandering the ocean alone. She whipped up her spear, and at the last possible moment, rolled powerfully to the side. As the shark, not having changed direction quickly enough, shot past her, she lashed out with her spear and struck it between the eyes with all her strength. It faltered, and Merletta drove home her advantage. Bringing the spear back around, she struck again, this time straight on the gills.
The shark writhed in pain. Merletta knew such attacks wouldn’t kill it, but she was hampered by the need to use the blunt end of her spear. The last thing she wanted to do was to spill the creature’s blood and attract more of its brethren.
As Merletta gripped her spear, readying herself for another assault, a movement made her flick her head momentarily to the side. She was surprised to see two of the guards hovering nearby, their posture communicating surprise although their faces were still covered.
The shark had evidently seen them, too. After a moment’s hesitation, it seemed to decide that this prey was too risky. With a flick of its powerful tail, it fled, disappearing back into the gloom.
For a long moment, Merletta and the guards just floated, staring at each other with heaving chests. Then the guards exchanged a look, raising their spears uncertainly as if unsure whether they were supposed to start attacking her again.
A strange keening noise that Merletta had never heard before cut through the water. Alarmed, she looked around for its source. She couldn’t see anything, but the guards withdrew in one synchronized movement, disappearing behind the rocky crags within moments.
Merletta pulled in a shuddering mouthful of water. She could only assume she’d performed sufficiently to be left alone for a time, but she didn’t feel much relief. She was too shaken by the appearance of the shark, and she was afraid that it might come back, or that others might have been attracted by the blood she’d accidentally spilled.
Still, floating there immobile wouldn’t get her closer to finishing her task. Wincing at the soreness brought on by the movement, she started to swim back over the rocky patch, looking for any sign of where the crabs had gone. The water grew warmer with each stroke, until suddenly, the rocks fell away and Merletta found herself looking down into a deep, round hole, much deeper than any point in the Center. It wasn’t as deep as the drop off where Freja had begun Merletta’s acclimatization training—Merletta could dimly see the bottom. But it was still plenty deep enough to fill her with dread.
Her heart sinking, she saw a number of small crabs scuttling down its sides, as if chasing the warmth that seemed to emanate from the drop off. She had a strong feeling this was where she needed to go. She’d been afraid of this—her depth work was her weakest point.
“At least it’s not cold,” she muttered to herself as she moved cautiously forward into the drop off.
She squinted in an attempt to see the bottom, but visibility was getting worse as she descended. It wasn’t just because of the lack of light, either. The water was so warm now it was uncomfortable, and one side of the chasm was obscured by a cloudy substance that made it seem like someone was constantly stirring up the sand of the ocean floor. As Merletta went still deeper, her head beginning to ache, and her mind becoming foggy, she realized that the cloudiness didn’t originate from the bottom of the drop off. It was issuing from a hole in the far rock wall. Merletta couldn’t have approached the hole even if she’d wanted to. The water was now so hot her instincts were screaming at her to ascend, to get out before she was boiled.
Suddenly it hit her. It was a thermal vent! She’d never seen one before, although since moving to the Center, she’d eaten plenty of food prepared in one.
As she marveled at the clouds billowing from the vent, she felt her back hit something solid and sharp. Without even realizing it, she’d backed away from the source of the heat, all the way to the other wall of the drop off. She was about to push off when something closed around her arm and pulled, hard.
She let out a yelp and turned, spear point out. Even amidst the fear arising from being grabbed from behind, she couldn’t help but respect whatever guard was acclimatized enough to lurk down here waiting for her all that time. But her yelp turned into a scream when she saw what actually had her.
It wasn’t a hand that had grabbed her arm, but a thick, purple tentacle. The octopus was the largest she’d ever seen, its head the size of her torso, and it was clearly intent on yanking her back into its hole.
Merletta lashed out blindly at it, whacking it with more force than finesse. The creature let go of her arm, but another tentacle immediately seized her fins. For a moment, panic clouded Merletta’s mind, then the same strange keening noise reached her ears. She realized what it must mean—it was surely a signal used by the guards. They would save her! But—her thoughts suddenly clicked into place—if they intervened, she would surely fail.
“No!” she shouted, still raining down blows on the octopus. “Don’t rescue me—I can do it!”
She didn’t wait for a response. Abandoning her attack on the octopus, Merletta put the butt of her spear against the wall and pushed out with all her might, sending herself lurching back toward the vent. She swam furiously, struggling against the octopus’s pull, until the water was scorching her face. The creature had clung on doggedly until then, but just as the heat became unbearable, it let go, retreating back toward its hole.
With a powerful upward stroke of her arms, Merletta sent herself shooting down, below the point of the vent and away from the octopus’s home. In spite of the warmth still surrounding her, shivers were running down her body. She could feel her scales rippling uncontrollably, and she knew her eyes were wide with horror. The pressure was beating at her skull, and her mind felt thick. Everything in her screamed to ascend, to get out of the drop off. But she could see the floor not far below her, and she forced herself to go on. She was so close.
Her eyes were locked on the bottom below as she moved downward, and for a moment she thought she was hallucinating again. The very sand seemed to be moving. Then she realized that the surface was swarming with crabs of varied sizes. Merletta had never been afraid of crabs, but there was no denying they were unnerving, gathered together like that. Her eyes moved along the floor, widening as she realized that what she’d taken for a large rock at the center of the space was actually an enormous crab. She’d never seen one half as big—it could snap off her arm with one of those pincers.
But more interesting even than its size, was its bed. It seemed to be resting on a motley collection of objects piled into a mound. Merletta could see pearls—not just individual ones, but ropes that had clearly once belonged to a mermaid—turtle shells, lumps of a shiny substance the color of the sun, even what looked like a rotting driftwood spear. As she watched, a medium-sized crab scuttled down the near wall of the drop off, a single, lopsided pearl clutched in its pincers. Merletta nodded to herself. This was surely the treasure she was supposed to retrieve.
She drew up, suppressing a groan at the idea of fighting yet another terrifying sea creature. Honestly, this test was making the official position on the dangers of the open ocean seem accurate. But a second look made her expel a long and relieved stream of water. The crab looked to be asleep, and she fully intended to keep it that way.
Her eyes scanned the mound, wondering what she was supposed to bring back. Felix hadn’t said—he’d just told her to bring back treasure. Perhaps she could just choose whatever object she wanted. She moved slowly downward, her eyes on a rope of pearls that was lying abandoned, far across the sand from the giant crustacean.
But even as her hand reached for it, she hesitated. Maybe it mattered what she selected. What if her choice was part of the test? A model guard wouldn’t be dazzled by jewelry. She glanced back over the pile, and her gaze fell on a small dagger which looked like it was made from a sharpened paua shell. Surely that was both treasure, and worthy of a guard.
Moving carefully, she inched through the water toward it, her eyes flicking between her prize and the sleeping crustacean. Some of its smaller fellows scuttled angrily, clicking their pincers at her in a menacing fashion. She ignored them. Her hand closed over the dagger just as a small crab, half the size of her palm, charged toward her and snapped its pincer around her fingers.
Merletta bit her lip to keep from crying out, but she made no move to dislodge her miniature attacker. She was worried that any violent movement would wake the patriarch. Her treasure in her hand, she pushed herself upward as silently and gently as she could. Only once she was just below the vent—and therefore the den of the octopus—did she give a powerful flick of the tail, shooting up toward the top of the drop off. Once the billowing clouds began to thin, she pried the crab off her hand, dropping it immediately. It sank back into the cloudy darkness, still furiously clicking its disapproval.
With a gasp of relief, Merletta emerged back into the open water, her paua knife clutched in her hand. She’d done it! She’d retrieved the treasure, and she was alive!
“Well, well,” said a familiar voice to her right.
She turned quickly to see Agner grinning at her, half concealed in a forest of tall seaweed.
“Instructor!” she cried jubilantly. She held up her prize. “I’ve found myself some treasure.”
