“That’s the big question,” she replied. “No one knows.”
“Well, this note mentions a Tang Tarpon. Where can he be found?”
“Hmm . . . We could find him in the Register of Residents of Meristem, a central directory—”
“Meristem?”
“Yes, you’re in the nation of Meristem. The word meristem refers to the part of an algae where the stem meets the frond. The nation of Meristem, which stretches throughout the Central Atlantic Ocean, consists of various settlements in the form of villages, towns, and cities.”
“Continue.”
“By law, every settlement in Meristem has a Ministry office. We could go to the nearest settlement from here—a village called Purple Claw, I believe—and speak to an administrator in the Under-Ministry of Residential Affairs. We would ask that person to look for the name Tang Tarpon in the Register of Residents of Meristem. . . .”
He would use Coralline, Izar decided, reaching the conclusion as swiftly as he made his business decisions. She could help him get his bearings underwater—he had no more orientation in his new environment than a grain of pollen wandering on the wind. She could be his compass, she could help him find the elixir that would give him his life back. She even carried medicine with her—like the balm she’d applied to his hand—and so he could also view her as a first-aid kit.
He could not have encountered anyone better.
But what if there was just one of these elixirs? In fact, wasn’t that likely? If so, how would he ensure that he kept the elixir instead of her?
He would buy it from her. There was not a man or woman he’d met who was not motivated by money. And given how she’d looked at his conch and whelk, she’d probably be eager for some carapace. Upon finding the elixir, he would give her all the carapace he had left in his drawstring pouch, Izar decided. And if she wanted more still, he would find a way to get it to her after transforming back to a human.
“Why are you searching for the elixir?” he asked.
“My eight-year-old brother is dying of black poison.”
Maybe she and her menagerie should have been watching what the merboy ate, Izar thought. Regardless, if she was motivated more by love than money, things could get tricky. He would deal with the situation when it arose.
“What do you do?” Coralline asked.
“I work at Ocean”—he began, but stalled at the word Dominion and finished with—“Ocean Protection.” The name of the enemy organization tasted bitter on his tongue.
“I’ve heard of Ocean Protection,” Coralline said enthusiastically. “My father told me it’s a small group of humans who care about the ocean. Unlike the people at Ocean Dominion.”
“I think everyone at Ocean Dominion should be beheaded,” Pavonis drawled.
“I think so, too,” Izar said with a gulp. “‘Death to Ocean Dominion! Life to the Ocean!’ is our motto at Ocean Protection. My ocean advocacy has led me to become an enemy of Ocean Dominion.” His face tightening, he added, for extra measure, “In fact, it was someone from Ocean Dominion who threw me overboard.”
“Looks like we share a common enemy,” Coralline said.
“We can also share a common aim,” Izar said, trying to sound nonchalant. “We can work together to find the elixir. It’ll increase our chances of success.”
“Not a chance in hell!” Pavonis boomed, tossing Izar up with his snout.
“Let’s talk, Pavonis,” Coralline said, just as he was about to toss Izar up again.
Pavonis glared at Izar one last time before arriving at Coralline’s side. They turned away from him.
“Izar’s scroll is the first clue on our quest!” Coralline bubbled. She knew from Ecklon’s detective work that any clue on any quest should be cherished, no matter how casually it was stumbled upon. “Do you think we should let Izar join our Elixir Expedition?” Coralline asked the three animals.
“It cannot be a coincidence we met him,” Nacre quipped from Coralline’s shoulder. “I think it’s fate. Let’s work with him.”
“We can work only with someone we trust,” Pavonis said, “and we can never trust a human.”
“Not even a human who works on behalf of the ocean?” Altair said.
“We should not believe a word he says,” Pavonis retorted, “for we have no way to verify it—as he well knows. And no matter where he claims to work, we should not forget that it is humans who sickened Naiadum. It is because of humans that we’re searching for the elixir in the first place. Humans are our enemies, not our allies.”
Coralline thought of the men she’d seen aboard the Ocean Dominion ship during the black poison spill, looking like sticks against the sun. Her hands rose to her neck as she recalled the slime that had encased her gills, almost suffocating her, the same slime that had contaminated Naiadum’s blood. Pavonis was right; they could never trust a human.
“We have the clue now,” Pavonis continued. “We can find Tang Tarpon on our own.”
“But what if Tang demands to see a note?” Coralline said with a sigh, thinking out loud. “To be on the safe side, maybe we should work with Izar until we meet Tang; then, as soon as we meet him, we can go our own way with whatever information he provides us. What do you think?”
“That’s a good idea,” Altair said.
“You’re cleverer than you look, Coralline,” said Nacre.
“Fine,” Pavonis said, his gaze swiveling to Izar. “But I won’t take my eye off him for a moment. One mistake, and I’ll crush him to death.”
13
The Serpent
"Salmon, tuna, shrimp, what do you have?” Izar asked.
The voluminous yellow-tailed waitress, who’d introduced herself as Morena, fingered the mole above her lip and said, “Very funny.”
Izar returned to scanning the menu at the restaurant, Taieniata. The words read like hieroglyphics to him: colander kelp, dulse, undaria, velvet horn, pepper dulse, ulva. Moments ago, Coralline had told him which of these algae were red, brown, and green, as though their scientific classifications should make some difference to him. “I’ll have ulva,” he said, for no other reason than that it was the last item on the menu, and so his eye hovered over it last.
“The same for you?” Morena asked Coralline.
“No way!” Izar stared at Coralline, as did Morena. “I’ve been eating it at home to please my mother,” she explained. “Undaria for me, please.”
“Anything to drink?” Morena said.
“What do you have?” Izar asked.
“All four wines.”
Wine, underwater? Who would have thought? “The strongest,” Izar said.
“Parasol, then.” Morena’s thick chin jiggled as she nodded, then turned to Coralline.
“No wine for me,” Coralline said.
Morena soon returned with a shapely flask that had a wide base and narrow neck. A sliding stopper on top prevented the dark-green liquid from mingling with the waters. Izar lifted the decanter tentatively to his lips and tilted his head; the stopper slid back automatically upon the angle, and a sweet, pungent liquid seared his throat. It tasted like something between wine and whisky, and it made Izar think of his weekly whisky-and-cigar meetings with his father and brother. They now felt as distant as though they’d occurred on another planet.
“What is underwater wine made of?” Izar asked Coralline.