Page 25 of Cerban
Maelis turned to me, her eyes wide behind the mask, and tapped the okay sign, then jabbed her finger toward the bubbles as if to say, Do you see it?
I nodded once, slowly, then mimicked her gesture back. Yes.
We hovered in the water, silent witnesses to the sea’s secret song. The bubbles pulsed on, as though the cave itself was breathing.
My chest tightened. Whatever lay beyond that seam, it was no natural formation. It was waiting. Calling. And I knew, with a certainty that dug deep into my bones, that if we followed those bubbles, we would not return unchanged.
Something caught my eye, further to the right. More bubbles, separate from the main group.
They rose from a lower crevice, faint at first, curling through the current.
I frowned. That fissure hadn’t been there before. I was certain of it.
The water here carried the taste of new stone – raw, unsettled. The storm must have shifted part of the cliff face, peeling back a layer that had hidden the opening before. A natural disguise, or perhaps not so natural.
I gestured to Maelis, drawing her attention to the spot. She angled her torch toward it, and as the beam cut through the haze, the water shimmered strangely, as though light bent around the crevice itself.
A shimmer like that didn’t belong in a geological formation.
Maelis’s eyes widened behind her mask.
"The storm must have uncovered it," I said aloud, breaking the silence.
She nodded and watched the bubbles.
Five bursts. Pause. Five bursts.
Up close, I could see faint traces along the stone – smooth lines too regular for erosion, like something once sealed the passage shut. My skin prickled with the memory of finfolk architecture: the fluid patterns, the deliberate symmetry. This was something familiar - but how? I knew my ancestors had crash-landed on Earth many generations ago, but the story of Jonet and Ma'vel had taken place in a country called Scotland, far to the east of here. I hadn't realised the finfolk had spread across the planet's oceans before they'd been rescued and brought home to Finfolkaheem.
Maelis reached out and ran a gloved hand along the edge of the opening. The moment she did, the shimmer flickered again – like static beneath the surface – and then vanished. The bubbles thickened, streaming past us in perfect synchrony.
We froze, waiting for the water to settle. When it didn’t, she turned to me, her expression unreadable. She pointed at the entrance as if to ask, Go in?
Every instinct screamed no, but I also knew that whatever secret the storm had unearthed, this was the only way to find it. And Maelis needed this. She needed closure.
I gave a sharp nod. "Slowly."
Maelis went first, her fins stirring a trail of silver bubbles that curled after her like smoke. I followed, one hand brushing the smooth stone, half expecting it to spark under my touch. My greenskin was tight, my muscles ready to jump into action. This could be a trap.
The dark passage narrowed so much that stone scraped against my skin as I squeezed through, then opened suddenly into a chamber that took my breath away.
Light flickered faintly along the walls – not from Maelis' torch, but from veins of metal threaded through the rock. They glowed with a pulse that matched the rhythm of the bubbles. I felt the vibration hum through my bones, through the water, through my very blood.
This was no ordinary cave.
It was something built.
And whatever it was, it had been sleeping here for a very long time.
15
Maelis
For a moment, I could only stare.
The chamber wasn’t large, but it felt alive. The walls shimmered faintly, veins of silvery metal threading through the stone like roots. Bubbles drifted upward in steady bursts, their rhythm echoing softly in my chest.
And in the centre of it all was the source.
