Pronunciation guide for Tanagùk’i (merperson language) in the next chapter, if you care.

For starters, “St’irian” is pronounced “S-tsee-ree-an”, and “aritis” is pronounced “ar-ih-ts-iss”. "Dasemring" is pronounced "Dah-SEM-ring" (not like it would be in Tanagùk'i) because he's not a merperson, he's just a god who associates with them.

(Year 0)

Cold water swirled around me, brushing my hair -- auburn in front like most C’ihhtk’al merfolk -- about in a halo of fine strands. The currents pushed me back and forth, and I let myself move, making only the small adjustments necessary to keep from being carried too far. The seawater I drew in through my mouth filtered through my gills, letting me continue to wait underwater.

Any time now, I guessed, slowly tensing. I let my tail stay loose, the current brushing across my mottled brown and black scales. My eyes closed, but every other sense was on alert.

An unexpected current swept across my skin, and I slid my eyes open. Light filtered through the water, spreading down from the surface, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. We’re too close to the surface. Far too close.

If they got past me, there was no time for anyone else to intercept them.

The first creature came into view, its silvery reptilian tail -- with vertical fins like a shark’s -- working to push it forward. Its metallic wings were folded tightly to its sides, and its snout was stretched forward to pierce the water. The aritis reminded me of a dragon more than I found comfortable, but its size -- only about three feet from snout to tail -- ended the resemblance.

When it got close enough, I snapped my tail around, pointing myself toward it, and shot forward. The aritis swerved, but I caught its tail, then reached back and unsheathed one of my scimitars with a fluid motion. The green-black blade cut cleanly through the water, then through the thing’s body just above its wings. Despite having had a thousand years to adapt to the water, dragons -- and their smaller cousins -- still didn’t belong in Dasemring’s domain.

And yet, here I am, trying as hard as I can to keep them in it.

Ignoring the blood that now polluted the water, I twisted around to face away from the distant -- but still far too near -- shore. As expected, the rest of the pack was quickly approaching. I drew my second scimitar, forcing myself not to tense up. I am one of Dasemring’s henchmen, I told myself. A daughter of the ocean. I can handle a few dozen ariti.

They swam in a loose v-shape, like a flock of geese navigating the sky. When one of them spotted me, it bared its fangs, tail propelling it toward me.

I concentrated, feeling the water as it rushed across my skin and scales. Staring at the aritis, I raised my hand and pushed.

Water flowed past me, swirling around the aritis and causing it to thrash about in a dizzying whirl. I swam forward, efficiently cutting its head off with my scimitar. As the water settled back to normal, more ariti came at me, like a hive of pests I’d accidentally bumped.

I raised my hands, and the water responded, recirculating so that it pushed me forward. I flipped my tail out behind me and held my scimitars close, riding the water to meet my enemies. For a second, they didn’t move, the change in the current confusing them. That was enough for me to get in their midst.

I lashed out, spinning between two in the front of the formation and slicing them both in half. Using my momentum, I tore through the middle of the pack, catching as many as I could before stopping behind them.

The pack scattered. Oh, no. Gritting my teeth, I reached out and pulled the water in toward me. I succeeded in preventing most of the stragglers from getting too far, but it wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped. I couldn’t just pull all the water in; I had to get rid of the stuff that was already there, as well as fill the holes I was leaving on the surface. Area effects took far more practice and concentration than I had at my thirteen years of age.

I swam for the closest aritis. It dodged my first swipe, unfurling a wing and slicing the sharp edge across my shoulder. I winced, pushing my tail down and ducking forward so that I flipped quickly. Now upside-down, I reached forward, catching the aritis’ wing with my scimitar before it could fold it away. It screeched, and I spun forward, righting myself as I swung. My scimitar bit into its neck, followed by the other blade, which cut it through.

I spun around, shooting at the next one as quickly as possible. This time, I tried to anticipate which direction it was going to move in.

It darted toward my tail, and I started, powering up over it. It had gone the right direction, but much faster than I was prepared for. We don’t have time for me to learn this slowly! Frustrated with myself, I turned back toward the aritis, aware of the others getting further away behind me. I reached out and formed the water into a tight stream, directing it at the aritis’ head. It sliced through its tail instead. Good enough. Without its tail, it was practically useless for swimming.

I turned around and powered forward, chasing after the nearest aritis. Unlike the others, it didn’t try to kill me; it swam faster, shooting toward the shore. Gritting my teeth as my muscles sluggishly responded, I thrust after it, reaching forward and slicing into it with my scimitar.

A pair of fangs sank into my other hand. I dropped my scimitar with a screech that rang surprisingly sharp through the muddling waters. My other sword cut through the ariris that had bitten me in the next second.

I sheathed my scimitar, then dove after the other, holding it in my uninjured hand. I took a second to inspect my hand, aware of the ariti slipping away along with the seconds. It bore two deep gashes, but the fangs hadn’t gone all the way through. Still, my blood was dispersing into the water at an alarming rate.

I breathed out -- actually breathed the water out through my mouth -- and forced myself to stay calm. It did nothing to give me oxygen, but I’d found that the feeling settled me.

I flicked my tail behind me and swam toward the other ariti, determined to catch as many as possible. As I did so, I sheathed my second scimitar, then held my hand before me and concentrated. It was much more difficult while I was moving through the water, but I managed to catch some in my hand and let the pressure build there, forming it into a bigger and bigger sphere.

I twisted sharply and hurled the sphere of water. It caught an aritis that was further away, twirling the creature around in a whirl. I held its shape as long as I could, but it was harder to control at a distance, and I soon had to let the water dissipate. Still, it had done its job. The aritis floated up to the surface, its neck having been snapped in the motion.

I’ll never catch them all, I realized. Getting a new idea, I powered forward as fast as I could, ending up near the center of the remaining ariti. Then I drew my sword with my good hand and held my hands out, trying to look as big as possible. I growled threateningly, taking advantage of a sound that wasn’t often made underwater. Slowly, I worked my hands in a circle, churning the surface and pulling bubbles down to surround me.

I hadn’t actually disrupted that much, but it looked impressive. The ariti slowly turned, then glanced at me and dispersed away into the deeper waters.

Exhausted, I moved the water in a circle before me, cleaning my scimitars one at a time. I sheathed them, then swam forward slowly, trying to wipe my mind of the battle and concentrate.

I reached forward with one hand. It was technically useless, since there was nothing there for me to feel but water, but it helped me for some reason. It wasn’t a solid substance, it wasn’t visible or tangible. It was a barrier that covered the entire universe, separating the physical realm from the spectral one.

I forced myself to focus on where in the spectral realm I wanted to go. I drifted forward, but rather than passing through more water, I passed through the barrier. It still felt odd, even after five years of doing it. It helped that there was water on the other side, but the change in realities still made me a bit nauseous.

And as usual, I wasn't prepared for the massive hall I entered on the other side. I appeared near one end of the hall, floating over a long stripe of ornate green tile that marked the center of the floor. Everything was well lit, though from no discernible source, which added to the sort of mystical grandeur that seemed to surround the entire spectral realm. There weren't any guards at the edges of the room -- that would be pointless, since there wasn't even a discernible entrance. Instead, there was an impressive troop of merfolk guards surrounding the lone figure in the center of the room.

The god of the ocean turned to regard me. As usual, his bearing was steady, but not rigid, like a calm sea.

"St’irian, gà Dacil Ahinok’il dù Dasemring," I announced clearly, even though the guards and the god all knew who I was. St’irian, Henchman of the Lord Dasemring. "Cù vgàgàt’in tt’al g’f ariti qìgìno; zt g’ah vtnhed’in dù gà gùk’m." I forced the rogue ariti back; none of them got to shore. I flicked my tail, swimming forward slowly.

Dasemring nodded. “Seh b’f kšbn rtazd’l dù b’il k’oh vcškaln. Ariti stsaglanuzt gal danuzt kàvk’a dù gark’af dd’il.” The situation is worse than what we thought. Ariti wouldn’t move without influence, not in organized strikes.

“G’oh vciznuzt dd’il huwl.” They didn't seem very organized.

“G’oh vgark’an gà qàqò trazgal dù d’ak agatr wuk’rgal, rskšal yaig dù gà gùk’m. Zt, St’irian, seh b’f kšbnuzt dù g’oh tahugn g’ih cihhta. Seh b’f kšbn gà avk dù g’f xofraf.” They attacked exactly at the same time as another group further down the shore. No, St’irian, this isn't just territory expansion. This is the work of the dragons.

I paled, the light skin on the front of my body bleaching. “Cil g’oh gark’an gà gùk’m? Gal danuzt gà Xofra Rkì’agùt’il, g’oh danuzt gà gao dù gùetkn tt’a b.” Why are they attacking the land? Without the Dragon Eternal, they don't have the power to take it back.

“Makil g’oh xdan uztrxl gà gao.” Then they'll have the power soon. He paused to let that sink in. “Seh kšbn d’ak gùkìt’m dal ndùetkn d’ak vkš dù st’irian dà, st g’f Dacil ekil xd’esilanuzt. G’oh pgìnuzt qàcìo gà egnuhi dù gà aihur ggdul. St’irian, cù aristan dù jš ekcn gà Xofra Rkì’agùt’il yuhik’u dal dà st’irian.” There's a human who has found a way to free it, and the other gods won't intervene. They don't care for the state of the physical world. St’irian, I need you to stop the Dragon Eternal from being released.

“G’f gùkìt’mf dan gao, danuzt-g’ah?” I protested. “Farc’il d’esd g’f Dacil avknuzt qècìo-g’ah huwl dù g’oh cškaln dù g’oh avkn. G’in xkgan.” The humans have power, don’t they? Even if the other gods don’t work for them as much as they think they do. They’ll defend themselves.

Dasemring shook his head. “B’f kšbn jqk’il dù g’f gùkìt’mf crahn g’ih gaof g’ih. Zt, g’ào crahn g’ah yte.” It is true that the humans wield their own powers. However, they wield them against each other. “Yirz gà qàqò g’oh spbun dù seh kšbn d’ak aracit rtazd’l, seh b’f skšbn ekcnlezt... yehint rhuwl gà aracit dal b kàvk’an yirz d’ak gùkìt’m rgaol.” By the time they realized the greater threat, there would be no stopping it… especially since that threat is under the influence of a more powerful human to begin with.

“D’esd g’f xofraf xgùetkn gà gùk’m, skšbnuzt-k’ah rnvkìal?” If the dragons take back the land, won’t we be safer?

“D’esd g’f xofraf xgùetkn gà gùk’m, g’oh xguètkn g’f cìbt,” he said. “G’oh tehin dù gà aihur ggdul trhuwl saristan gal b kšbn g’ihl. Yehint g’oh kšbn kàluztl dù gà aihur ggdul, g’oh arxd’in rhuwl qàcìo bg cihhta ggdul trhuwl.” If the dragons take the land, they will take the seas. They believe all the physical realm should be theirs. Confined to the planet of Cadiir as they are, they hunger even more for all its physical territory.

“Seh ciy saristan-cà ekcn-g’ah?” I asked. Then how am I to stop them?

“Cd t’inta, dg t’intra Kessiel kšbn dù d’ak c’injar skšalezt yuhik’u gùk’m. G’etlan-dà dù iniunan-cà. Gà Shairisel Xedac, dg uldacf saristanuzt gùetkn Falcondar, st gà Xofra Rkì’agùt’il saristanuzt dal dà st’irian.” My sister’s daughter Kessiel is in a boat not far from shore. Ask for her help. The human’s followers must not take over Falcondar, and the Dragon Eternal must not be freed.

Dasaria wasn’t really Dasemring’s sister -- the way the gods once reproduced hadn’t allowed for siblings -- but the way two of them liked to consider themselves siblings was widely known enough that I understood what he meant.

I bowed my head, spreading my arms in a gesture of subservience. “Ptah, cd Dacil.” Then I flipped around and swam down the hall, crossing back into the physical realm to find Dasaria’s daughter.

I do pity the poor person who tries to make this an audiobook…