Whale Song
Dark water sloshes against the sides of the boat as Thomas takes us farther from shore. At this point, we’re well out of sight of the docks, and there are no other boats.
Starla’s looking a bit green, but I don’t think it’s seasickness. She’s still exhausted from using up so much magic to knock out her father’s men.
I say as much to Jackal.
“You both look exhausted. You should rest some more. Or, would a swim help?”
I perk up.
“Water sounds wonderful. But do you think we have time?”
“Thomas! How far until you’re ready to shift?” Jackal calls out to our captain.
“Whenever you all need it, but I’d like to take us out a bit more at least. I’m on your schedule.” The whale adjusts something, whistling a tune to himself the whole while.
“How about it?” Jackal asks.
Not only would I feel better, but I could probably find something for Starla.
Light magic witches create energy and magic through physical exertion, as far as I know.
The remainder, including Starla, drain energy from other things.
A responsible witch is no deadlier than a shifter searching for breakfast in the woods, and Starla prefers to gather magic at Carolina Beach when she can do it while simultaneously getting herself a seafood lunch.
“You don’t mind? I feel like we’ve been apart so long.”
“I’ll come with,” Jackal volunteers, peeling his shirt off. Shifters are used to undressing in front of one another, but I find myself distracted by his muscles as he finishes piling his clothes onto the deck. He shifts into his fur.
“I’ll swim better like this,” he says, leaping into the relatively calm waters.
Smiling, I peel my own off and leap in after him.
Scales dust across my arms and legs, silky webbing growing between my fingers. I dunk my head under the water, eyes adjusting so I can see far below us.
The water is vast—and freeing. I throw my head back, laughing under the surface. When I see four kicking feet, I pop my head back to the air.
“You look happier already!” Jackal says, flashing his sharp teeth in a hyena smile.
“I am.”
Pickles barks from the boat.
“I’m sorry, buddy, I’m not sure you can come out here.”
“Need a pet life vest? I keep one on board!” Thomas calls out. He goes about strapping Pickles into it before I can give a response.
“You all right with this?” Jackal asks.
Pickles lets out a small howl.
“I’ve got him!” I say, swimming over and jumping near the side of the boat to pull Pickles from Thomas as he leans over the edge.
I set Pickles in the water, and he begins paddling furiously with his tiny legs, his long ears dragging along the surface.
“Can you make sure he doesn’t drink the salt water?” I ask Jackal.
“On it. You enjoy your swim.”
The two dog-paddle around, and I pick up speed, letting myself cover a fair distance from the boat, and then loop back.
I spiral under the water, observing a variety of fish.
No sharks for the moment. Those don’t tend to worry me, but I keep an eye out, because I’m not letting one get close to Jackal or Pickles.
One bite, and it would be your fault for letting your dog in the water.
It’s easier to accept and let the thought roll past me while I’m here in the water. I’m not being unrealistic. I will be surprised if I don’t have an anxious moment flare at some point soon, but right now, I feel at home.
Not far from the boat, I spot a massive tangle of sargassum, a type of algae. I flag the others over, and Thomas steers the boat.
“It’s not scallops, but could you make use of this?” I ask Starla.
“I’m not going to cause the collapse of the ocean ecosystem, am I?” she asks, reluctant.
I shake my head.
“No. Believe it or not, this is small in comparison to others.”
She makes quick work of it, and when the sargassum is dried up, a bit of color has returned to her cheeks.
She looks even better after Thomas announces he has sandwiches in an icebox on board, and we go back on the boat for a filling lunch. We’re wiping crumbs off ourselves when he takes off his captain’s hat and wipes his brow.
“About ready? You all give me the coordinates, and I can make my way there. I have an excellent sense of direction.”
Exos relays our information. The councilman did indeed have a map, but the gargoyle took a picture of it with his cell phone instead of stealing the original copy.
“No need to tell him exactly where we’re headed,” Exos says.
I would have swiped it and run without considering that piece. Guess I still have a bit to learn when it comes to investigations and sneaking into places I’m not supposed to be.
Thomas nods to himself as he looks at the picture.
“I can get us there easily, but it’ll take the rest of the day. That all right with you?”
“Will we be able to breathe?” Starla asks.
Thomas waves off the concern.
“Unlike a real whale, I won’t fill my mouth with salt water and whale spit. And I won’t dive deep enough to cause issues with your anatomy. Plus, I brush my teeth daily, so you won’t be gagging on whale breath. Not saying it’ll be comfortable, but you’ll make it.”
Lovely.
“You could swim alongside, if you wanted,” Jackal says to me.
“No. I want to make sure everyone else is okay. Thomas, what if we do run into an issue? Is there a way to get your attention?”
“Oh sure. Have the witch zap my tongue and I’ll know to stop and surface.”
I’m guessing her key, and our abilities, came up during my swim.
Once logistics are decided, Thomas hops into the water. The rest of us wait by the boat for him to surface, and I can tell by the wide-eyed stares around me that I am not the only one unprepared.
Blue whales are already the largest mammal on Earth, and I can say with confidence, having swum with several in the past, that Thomas is notably bigger.
I can’t imagine shifting into this. My brother is large as a sea serpent, but Thomas is mind-boggling. Too large to be real.
“Hop in!” His voice has deepened several octaves, vibrating the very air as he invites us to his now open mouth.
“Here we go.” Starla holds her nose as she hops into the waves and swims for the whale.
Thomas was right. Not particularly comfortable, although there are worse things than a whale tongue. It doesn’t stink, so he was right again on dental hygiene.
“This isn’t my top choice for travel,” Starla says, voice raspy.
“Agreed. He may be the largest living thing on the planet, but I am still claustrophobic,” Ji-hwan agrees. The Were has put on his fur, his claws out.
The other unfortunate part of the journey is the music.
Thomas can’t sing with us in his mouth, but he has managed to hum.
Whether he’s using his mouth or a blowhole I cannot possibly say.
But he does manage it, and his tongue is like a vibrating pad beneath our feet as his entire body shakes along with the tune.
Pickles takes it upon himself to join at intervals, short awooos added to the ear-splitting humming.
After hours, Thomas’s singing fades.
I feel a headache that vibrates out and through all my bones, and I could kneel down and kiss the whale’s tongue for ceasing the music. Then, I notice something else.
Thomas’s bulk acts as a dampener, blocking a lot of sound from outside, but I can feel something. There’s a pulling sensation that washes over me.
I look at the others, and my alarm grows.
Starla claps her hands over her ears. Exos is holding on to her with one arm, shaking his head like he’s a wet dog trying to dry off.
Jackal growls, fur sprouting from his back.
“Leena. I think we’re close.”
Ji-hwan sinks his claws into his own forearms.
“He’s right. I’m fighting myself, but I have a desire to run right through Thomas’s teeth.”
The whale doesn’t have actual teeth in this form. He has baleen plates in his mouth, but it doesn’t seem like the time to point it out.
“What’s happening? Starla, shock Thomas,” I instruct.
The witch is trying to worm her way out of Exos’s grasp and launch herself at the baleens as well.
I stand right in front of her.
“Starla! Shock Thomas!”
She does, but after a few moments, I don’t feel a change. We’re not surfacing.
“Leena,” Jackal is panting. “I think we’re here. I think we’re facing a siren.”
I feel like the blood drains out of my body.
Another siren. And they’re trying to call the people I care about to their doom.
While I’m stuck inside a whale with no way to fight back.