Suddenly, two Human-shaped figures burst out of the water, a man and a woman, smiling in the red light. Their skin was dark and slick, water beading on its surface.
“Hey, buddy,” the man said. His soft brown eyes were smiling. “What’s up?”
Brendan didn’t know what to say.
“You look like you could use a hand,” the woman said, raising a long-fingered hand to Kim’s cheek. In the dim light, Brendan could see that both of them, male and female, sported long, bristling whiskers that stuck out a great distance below their noses.
“You’re…” Brendan stammered. “You’re Faeries, too?”
The woman laughed, a gentle coughing bark. “Not exactly. We’re Silkies. 67 Water Folk.” She turned to study Kim’s face, lolling at Brendan’s shoulder. “Is she hurt?”
“I… I… I don’t know. She was attacked by-”
As if mentioning her was enough to renew Orcadia’s fury, the chamber was rocked by a violent impact. The water sloshed back and forth. Another blow finally knocked the outer hatch out of true. Light flared around the edge of the hatch frame.
“I have you now,” Orcadia hissed. “Like fish in a barrel.”
The water began to drain out of the chamber into the room beyond.
“We must go,” the newcomer said urgently. She fished something out of a small pouch at her hip and stuffed it in Brendan’s mouth before he could protest. “Chew this.”
“Huh, gug!” Brendan reflexively bit down and his mouth was filled with a salty, musky flavour, not unpleasant but extremely odd. Like some kind of seaweed jerky, he thought. The man grabbed Brendan by the arm, and the woman took hold of Kim, forcing a small wad of the green paste into Kim’s mouth as well.
The strangers hauled Brendan and Kim out into the tube. The current slammed into them like a freight train. The force of the water drove the air from Brendan’s lungs. Terrified and disoriented, he plunged down into cold wet darkness.
67 Silkies, or Water Folk as they often call themselves, are akin to Faeries. They inhabit lakes, rivers, and seas around the world. Excellent swimmers, they can breathe underwater and swim to great depths. They tend to travel in groups, as they enjoy the company of others of their kind. In ancient times, they gave rise to the legends of the mermaids, helping distressed sailors to safety. In recent years, their habitat is increasingly threatened by pollution and industrial waste. They can leave the water for short periods of time, but they prefer the depths of their watery homes, staying away from Humans or “Drylanders,” as they call us.
THE WATER FOLK
Brendan thrashed and heaved in a panic. He was drowning! His lungs were filling with water! He was… He was…
Not drowning even though he was sucking water in and out of his lungs! Somehow, he was breathing the water! After the initial weirdness of the sensation, he found he could settle down and breathe more evenly. He laughed, sending a silvery string of bubbles out into the water.
“Relax,” the man said into his ear. “Enjoy the ride.”
“How am I able to do this?”
The man explained, “It’s water weed. We grow it for visitors. My sister and I don’t need it. Silkies can breathe water naturally.”
Brendan stared.
The woman grinned, showing even, pearlwhite teeth. “I am Oona, and my brother is called Miv. We heard the commotion and we came to investigate.”
“Lucky for you we did,” Miv said, winking a big brown eye. He twitched his whiskers in amusement. Brendan was reminded of seals he’d seen at the Metro Zoo.
“I’m a little out of my element, here,” Brendan said, marvelling that he could speak underwater. His voice sounded dull and muffled in his ears. “Kim got hit with something back there and she’s unconscious. She said we needed to get to a place called the Swan?”
The siblings looked at each other and nodded. “We can take you close,” Oona said. “Now hold tight. We’re coming to the gate.”
Brendan craned his neck to look forward. A faint glow was approaching from below. Occasionally, he bumped against the sides of the pipe, but for the most part, Miv guided him unerringly, spiralling down the pipe.
The glow grew stronger, and soon Brendan could make out a chrome filter grate at the bottom of the pipe. Miv and Oona gently turned against the current and lowered themselves feet first, kicking against the flow of water, slowing their own and their charges’ descent.
Oona handed Kim to Brendan. He struggled to hold her upright against the current while he waited for the Silkies to open the grate. The pause gave him a chance to examine his rescuers.
At first Brendan thought they were wearing wet suits, but when they moved their limbs, the faint light refracted off their slick hide. Their skin was covered in dense hair like a seal’s fur. Their arms were long and slender, ending in fingers joined by webbed skin that allowed them to swim easily. They went barefoot, and their toes were long, splayed, and also webbed. As they worked on the hasps that sealed the grating, they anchored themselves by curling their toes around the bars. They gently waved their hands in the water.
Looking at them working, Brendan suddenly realized that they were dressed only in loose-fitting loincloths made of a silvery material that looked like fish skin. The cloths were held in place by a belt of woven weeds. With a shock, he noticed that Oona was bare-chested. He blushed and looked away. Oona saw him do it, and she twitched her whiskers playfully at his discomfort.
The grating swung open soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. The Silkies ushered Brendan into the open water, closing the grating after them. Looking more closely at the lights while the Silkies fastened the hasp, Brendan could see that they weren’t lanterns, at least not electric lanterns. The bulbs of light were pods of some kind, a string of bulbous seaweed flowers that emitted a soft, greenish glow.
“Glow-weed,” Miv told him, seeing his curiosity. “We grow many different types of weeds as tools and utensils. We shouldn’t hang around here too long.”
“The computers that monitor the system have motion sensors,” Oona explained. “If they sense the grate is open, they send an alert to the controllers and they send a Drylander work crew. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
“Drylander?”
“That’s what we call the Humans.”
“Does anyone just call them Humans?” Brendan asked.
Miv screwed up his face in distaste. “How boring! Calling everything exactly what it is!”
“It’s less confusing,” Brendan pointed out.
Brendan looked around but there was nothing to see outside the circle of light save for murky dark water. “Where are we exactly?”Brendan asked. “I mean, are we far from the Swan?”
“Not so far,” Oona said reassuringly. “But we should be going. Miv will take Ki-Mata.”
Brendan looked down at Kim’s inert face. Miv laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Have no fear. She is safe with me.”
Reluctantly, he let the Silkie man take Kim from him, and Miv tucked her under his strong arm. Driving downward with his splayed feet, he shot forward into the water, disappearing after a few strokes into the murk.
Oona reached up and tugged a glowing bulb free of the wreath of weeds and handed it to Brendan. Taking it in his hand, he was surprised at how warm it was. He smiled gratefully at Oona. She sensed how fearful a ride through the dark lake might be for one of the uninitiated. She extended her hand with a friendly nod. He took it, marvelling at the strength of her elegant fingers and their odd texture. With a kick of her feet, they were off.