Xadia the axolotl's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Xadia reached the northern water by dusk. The current turned cold here. She unrolled her mother's charts against a flat rock and pinned the edges with pebbles. The trenches were marked, just as she remembered. But over the deepest trench, her mother had drawn small symbols in a tight row. Xadia traced them with one webbed finger. She did not know a single one. They marked the drowned bell, she was sure of it. She just could not read them. She tried for an hour. She copied the symbols in the silt. She turned the chart sideways, then upside down. Nothing made sense. Her chest tightened. The lead she had crossed all this water to follow ended in a code she could not crack. A dog barked. Xadia spun around. On a rise above the trench sat a small blue house, its walls bright even in the dim water. A husky-shaped dog stood on the porch. Its coat swirled blue and green, and its tail wagged hard. It barked again and pawed toward the door. The door opened. A blue axolotl stepped out. He wore a green tunic and a dark cloak trimmed with pale stones. He moved like someone who belonged to these deep waters. He studied Xadia, then her chart. "You're reading trench-marks in the dark," he said. "Alone. That's how axolotls get lost out here." "I'm not lost," Xadia said. "I'm stuck." She held up the chart. "These symbols. I can't read them." He swam closer. His dog circled Xadia once, sniffed the journal at her chest, then sat. The axolotl leaned over the chart. His expression changed. He tapped the tight row of symbols. "Old tide-script," he said. "Few write it now. My grandmother did." He looked at Xadia. "Who drew this?" "My mother." He was quiet a moment. Then he read the symbols aloud, slow and careful. "Descend the third trench. Follow the cold seam east. The bell hangs where the water stops moving." He pointed past the rise, into the dark below. "That way. A full day's swim, maybe more." Xadia's heart pounded. She had a direction now, a real one. She grabbed her charcoal and copied his words onto the chart's edge in plain marks she could read. "The cold seam is dangerous," the axolotl said. "The water there is dead. Nothing lives in it." He crossed his arms. "You'll need someone who knows the way." Xadia looked at him. She had come alone this far. But she could not read the deep, and he could. "Then come with me," she said. He glanced back at his blue house, then at his dog. The dog stood and wagged its tail toward the trench, ready. "East it is," he said. Xadia rolled the chart tight. The symbols were beaten. Now the dead water waited.