A shadow passed by overhead, stifling the already limited light. It passed by slowly, great wings propelling the beast onward with a subtle, lazy motion. Far below, shrouded in darkness, a dozen eyes watched silently and motionlessly, waiting for the perfect moment. Above, the beast moved past, the light filtering down again, but still the hunters waited. Seconds elapsed, then minutes, before the shape came again, closer this time. It was circling downward, ever nearer. But still, they waited.

Hidden in a growth of seaweed three times as long as she was, Ethal resisted the impulse to groan. Her hand was beginning to cramp as she held on to the shaft of her sling spear. Holding the elastic length of the harvested Slingback Ray tail against the spear’s shaft required constant pressure, but once released, it could launch the spear farther and faster than a merfolk could throw it. Under water, it was the only long-distance weapon they had, and a significant advantage in hunting and in battle. But the Slingback Ray did not give up its tail, or its meat, easily.

Suddenly, directly above her, the gigantic form of the Ray appeared again, and this time, it was close enough. Ethal sounded a primal yell that reverberated to the other hunters around her, and thrust herself upward, sling spear held ahead of her. Just as the Slingback Ray sensed her movement, she released the spear, sending the dart whisking through the water. The Ray banked to its right, but not quickly enough to avoid injury. Ethal’s barbed spear tore through the Ray’s left wing, drawing a small spray of blood into the ocean as it struggled to make its escape.

Just beside and below Ethal, she heard another war cry, and the muscular form of her best friend Mordis surged past her. He adjusted his angle to compensate for the Ray’s new direction and unleashed a sling spear of his own. This time, the Ray was more focused on getting away than dodging attacks, and the projectile buried itself deep in the creature’s body. It gave an anguished cry that the merfolk felt as a long vibration in the water before it stopped propelling itself forward and began to simply float.

“Ha!” Mordis cried, a grin plastered on his handsome face as he swam up toward his kill. “And I thought the great planeswimmer could out-hunt any of us!”

Ethal smiled at first, but then her face grew dark. A moment later, her eyes widened, and she was moving. Mordis was too surprised to move out of the way as Ethal tackled him about the waist. A moment later, the dying Ray’s barbed tail cut through the water where Mordis’s head had been. Acting on reflex, Ethal grabbed the rubbery tail and used it to propel herself along the Ray’s body. She immediately drew her hand spear, which she kept slung across her back, and drove it deep into the Ray’s flattened head. The massive creature convulsed for several seconds before finally falling lifeless.

“You could have just warned me, you know,” Mordis said, rubbing his ribs for effect.

“True,” Ethal said, smiling back at him. “But what fun would that be?”

The other four hunters caught up to them then. “Speaking of fun,” Theral said, “save some of it for us, will you? Every time the two of you are in the same hunt, it becomes a competition as to which of you gets the kill, and you never leave any for the rest of us.”

Ethal looked over at Theral and smiled. She had spoken jokingly, Ethal knew, but there was some truth to the statement. Ever since their youths, Ethal and Mordis had been both best friends and competitive rivals. And ever since Ethal had discovered her Pearl, what other planeswalkers called their ‘Spark,’ Mordis had seemed all the more anxious to prove he was as good as she was. It was all in fun, of course, and they had never exchanged heated words over the matter, but Ethal could not help but wonder if something had changed with her return to the Maelstrom School and her monumental reveal at the Gala.

“The next one is all yours, Theral,” Ethal said, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. It was Ethal’s relationship with Theral, more so than with Mordis or even with her own family, that had changed the most since the Gala. Before Ethal had pried her Pearl and found herself adrift in the Multiverse, she and Theral had been informally pledged to one another. Now, though, things were very different for them, and neither truly knew where they floated with the other. They were still close, but there was something different.

Theral was about to respond when a short voice rippled through the currents. The Maelstrom hunters looked in the direction of the source to see Ashal, Ethal’s sister, darting swiftly toward them. Ethal began to speak a greeting, but the look on her sister’s face stopped her. Ashal, perhaps the swiftest swimmer in the clan, closed the distance quickly and spoke with bated breath.

“Ethal, come quickly! The Elders are summoning you.”

“What? Why?”

“We found something, and the Tribunal…Ethal, they don’t know what to make of it. They need your help.”

“My help? I would think our brother would be the one…”

“Addas is already trying to piece it together, but he’s having no luck. So come on.”

She turned and swam away a few lengths, then looked back at Ethal, waiting for her to follow. The planeswimmer glanced around at the other hunters, and then at the dead Slingback Ray they had just claimed.

As if reading her mind, Theral spoke. “We will take care of the Ray, Ethal. If you are being summoned, you must go.”

Mordis and the other hunters nodded their approval, and Ethal relented, turning to join her sister. As they swam, Ethal glanced over. “Is this serious?”

Ashal shook her head. “I don’t know. But I don’t have a good feeling about this, you know? When she sent me to find you, Mother seemed…troubled.”

“She is just nervous,” Ethal reassured her. “This is the clan’s first Move since her appointment to the Tribunal. I am certain that she wishes to prove herself worthy.”

“It’s more than that,” Ashal insisted, the vibrations of her voice wavering with worry. “Ethal, what they found, and what it might mean…”

She trailed off, and Ethal simply nodded. Then, without a word, they both increased their speed. In their youth, Ethal had been one of the few merfolk in the clan who could keep up with Ashal, and even then, never for long. Ever since discovering her Pearl, though, Ethal had found even simple things like swimming easier than before, and with Ashal tired from her swim to find Ethal, the planeswimmer found herself needing to slow down for her sister.

Eventually, they found themselves once again amongst the School, most of whom were talking nervously and excitedly, the waters practically shaking from the collective force of their voices. As they approached, Ethal and Ashal’s father, Karas, swam up to greet them.

“They are waiting for you,” Karas said bluntly, his long voice revealing nothing. “Come with me. I will take you to them.”

Ethal merely nodded, and together with their father, the two sisters swam away from the School and toward a low recess in the ocean bed. The Maelstrom clan of merfolk were a nomadic people, and rarely stayed in the same place for more than a few sleeps, unless food was particularly plentiful or injuries or illness slowed them down. They had only just arrived here, at the northern edge of the Marrey Trench, a single sleep earlier. Usually, when they came to this area of the Deep, they would have crossed the Trench further south, but the native clans of the Trench were warring with one another now, and their conflict had pushed the migratory Maelstrom clan further north than usual. And that, apparently, had led to the discovery of…something.

As they descended even lower, Ethal caught her first sight of what that something was. The light was nearly nonexistent this far down, but merfolk eyes could filter even the tiniest bit of light from the surface, just as their gills could filter out the barest specks of air from the waters around them. Still, it was so dark as they descended into the Trench itself that Ethal could only just make out what appeared to be a massive stone structure build into the rock itself. While stone buildings were not unknown to merfolk, they were exceedingly rare, usually limited to palaces and temples.

The Tribunal of Elders was gathered near what appeared to be the entrance, a massive, circular stone door that was shut tight against the currents. With the Elders was Addas, Ethal’s brother, one of the most learned and academically gifted merfolk of the clan, as well as three or four others that shared his love of learning. Ethal noticed as she approached that most of them were scratching their heads as they looked around the front of the structure, which was dominated by columns and relief sculptures.

Karas led Ethal and Ashal directly to the Elders. By tradition, nine Elders served on the Tribunal, the nine merfolk considered by the clan to be the wisest and most able to lead. With the recent passing of Gretas, who had been the oldest by far on the Tribunal, Ethal’s mother Iral had been selected by the clan to serve. The Tribunal were floating in a loose circle until they noticed Ethal, Ashal, and Karas approach, at which point they shifted into a tight semi-circle, indicating for Ethal to take her place in the center. Ethal did, and bowed deeply at the waist in deference to the Elders as a whole, and then again to Iral specifically, as was tradition.

“Thank you for coming,” Iral began. “The Tribunal requires your aid.”

“I will try to provide it, Elder,” Ethal said, just barely resisting the habit of calling her ‘Mother.’ The planeswimmer glanced back at the large stone structure. “I am not sure what aid I can provide, however.”

“Truthfully, neither are we,” Yoras, another of the Elders, admitted. “But what has been found is beyond our knowledge. We thought that, perhaps, it would not be beyond yours.”

“What do you mean?” Ethal asked.

“Come,” Iral said. “Addas can show you.”

One by one, the Tribunal swam over to where Addas and the others were studying the wall near the great circular door. As they arrived, Addas turned to them and bowed, and bowed again to his mother, as Ethal had done. “Elders,” he greeted.

“Addas,” Iral said, “please tell Ethal what you have learned.”

The black-haired merman nodded, and beckoned Ethal forward. As they floated, broad shoulder to broad shoulder, Addas swept an arm in an arc in front of him. “This is strange, sister. From the carvings in the walls, this is clearly some sort of temple, but this is no temple to Phirsdon. In all our travels and all my studies, I have never seen iconography like this before. Nowhere is the Sacred Trident, nor His Whirlwind Tail, nor the great Horn. There is only this…thing.”

As he spoke, Addas indicated toward a relief figure featured prominently just above the door. It had a squat, spherical body and eight wavy tails. Ethal nodded her head.

“I have seen something like that before.”

“You have?” Addas asked instantly, and the Elders circled in closer to learn.

Ethal shrugged. “I have, but I do not think it answers any of your questions. I have seen them on a few of the worlds I have visited. It is known as an octopus.”

“You have actually seen one?” Addas asked again, more insistent this time. “Were you not afraid? I would think it must have been terrifying.”

“They are not particularly scary, brother,” Ethal said. “Odd looking, perhaps, and I do not deny that I was concerned about it when I first saw one, but they do not seem to be anything to fear.”

“But what about their size?” Addas insisted.

Ethal held out her arms, her hands just a bit further apart than the length of her shoulders. “They are not very big,” she said. “Nothing compared to a shark or a ray.”

“Really?” Addas asked, again scratching behind his head. “Then, can you explain that?” As he spoke, he pointed to one of the relief sculptures on the Temple wall. It was another image of the octopus, this one with far more detail. It took up the majority of the wall, with two of its massive tentacles raised high as if preparing to strike. Below, in far, far smaller scale, were dozens of carved figures of merfolk, bowed at the waist in apparent worship of the beast. If the scale were accurate, the octopus was at least twenty times as large as they were, perhaps a great deal more.

“I…” Ethal started, then stopped. After a moment, she shook her head. “I cannot explain. Perhaps on some worlds, they are larger?”

“The real question,” Iral interjected, “is how its image got to our world.”

“Quite,” Elder Yoras agreed. “I have been swimming the Deep longer than any of the clan now, and I have never seen anything like this, on stone or in the waters.”

“It is possible,” Addas theorized, “that these creatures, these ‘octopuses,’ once swam these waters, but have since all died out. This temple seems like it must be ancient. Perhaps they were dying out, and the old merfolk made this temple for their memory?”

“Or perhaps,” Iral ventured, “an ancient planeswimmer brought the image here?”

Ethal could feel the eyes of the Elders on her. With an unintended gulp, she said, “I suppose that is possible. We know that others have swam the planes before I did.”

“I don’t think we’ll figure much out from out here,” Ashal suddenly said, breaking her silence. “I say we go inside and see what’s there.” She caught herself then. “Oh, with your permission, Elders.”

“We had the same thought,” Yoras said. “But the door has proven uncooperative.”

“I have tried everything I could think of,” Addas said. “I do not believe it can be forced, and I have found no latch to release it.”

“There must be some way,” Ethal said, swimming toward the giant stone door. She looked over it for a long time, and then reached out to touch it. As her hand approached the stone, she felt a change, as if the door itself was reaching into the deepest part of her spirit. A moment later, she felt a jolt, like the sting of the Shock Eels of the Reefwaters, but without the pain. That very instant, the door started to make a terrible sound that rippled the waters of the Marrey Trench. As the sound grew louder and more intense, the door began to slide away to the side. When the sound finally stopped vibrating the water, the door was gone, and in its place was a long hallway into the Temple, lit by an eerie blue glow.

“Ethal, are you alright?” Ashal asked, rushing to her sister’s side. “I saw you convulse. Did it hurt you?”

“I…I am fine,” Ethal managed. She glanced around at the others, who were staring either at her or at the temple’s open doorway in astonishment. Then she settled her gaze on her mother. “I think you may have been right, Elder. I think it opened because it knew I was a planeswimmer.”

“Can such a thing be possible?” Karas asked, his long voice low.

“There is much we do not know, husband,” Iral said. She refocused on Ethal. “Much that we all have yet to learn.”

“Indeed, Elder,” Addas said. “May we…may we investigate?”

Beside Addas, Ashal could barely contain her excitement. “Yes, Elders. May we?”

With little more than a gesture, the Tribunal gathered up into a tight circle and debated in whispered words. After a few long minutes, they turned back toward the younger merfolk. “The temple opened for Ethal,” Yoras said, “and thus, the decision should be Ethal’s. What say you?”

Ethal looked back into the dark opening of the temple. It felt strange. Unnatural. But if she were ever going to learn what it truly meant to be a planeswimmer, she would need to go where planeswimmers had gone before her, and there seemed little doubt that planeswimmers had been in this temple. Besides that, she could practically feel the excitement of her brother and her sister reverberating through the water. Finally, she turned back to the Tribunal, and nodded.

“Elders,” she said, “with your permission, I would like to investigate.”

As one, the nine Elders nodded their ascent. “Very well, Ethal,” Yoras said. “But you should prepare first, and choose who will come with you. Summon the School.”

With her head held high, Ethal swam forward and crossed the threshold into the ancient temple. She had led countless hunts before, but this was entirely different. For one thing, they had no idea what they were hunting. This temple was waters they had never known, and there was no way of telling what they would find within. For another, the temple was a claustrophobic place. For merfolk used to hunting, swimming, and even sleeping in the wide open ocean, stone walls only a few lengths wide felt utterly suffocating.

Ethal knew that some merfolk lived in the rivers of the surface lands. She suddenly felt very sorry for them.

The planeswimmer had decided to keep her hunting party small. If trouble were lurking in the forgotten temple, she knew that she might regret the decision, but there was almost no room to maneuver anyway, and the fewer losses to the School, the better. She had brought with her Addas and Ashal, of course. Their excitement to participate alone would have made it virtually impossible to reject them, but beyond that, they would need Addas’s knowledge, and if trouble did come, they might need Ashal’s speed to run and warn the rest of the clan.

In addition to her siblings, Ethal brought with her Mordis, her best friend and perpetual hunting companion. There was no one, of all the Maelstrom merfolk, that Ethal could trust more than him, even more than her own fin-kin. Ethal similarly chose to bring Theral, a superb hunter and trusted companion. At Mordis’s request, Ethal also included Noral, Mordis’s betrothed. While not as handy with a spear as the others were, Noral was small in size, and could perhaps get places others could not. She was also the most adept of them at the cures, though Ethal hoped they could avoid injury altogether. But besides everything else, she made Mordis happier and more relaxed, and that was advantage enough.

The main hall led from the open stone doorway into the depths of the temple in a straight line for as long as their merfolk eyes could see from the entrance. The hall was simple stone an almost completely bare, with the exception of evenly spaced alcoves in the wall. These small alcoves each contained a small statue or idol. The first, nearest the door, was that of a golden being, approximately human. The second looked almost like a bird, but standing on two legs. The third was clearly human, with a long beard and a missing eye. The next two looked like human women, but with ears coming almost to a spear’s point. The next was a creature with a neck like a great sea serpent, but a wider reptilian body, and what Ethal could only describe as wings, but not like that of a ray, or even a bird.

The strangeness of the figures made Ethal opt to stop examining them. There was something unsettling about this place, and about the idols even more so. Addas examined them more carefully than the others did, committing their bizarre shapes to his memory before they pressed on down the oddly lit hallway. Ethal had expected the hallway to split off into rooms as she had seen once or twice before on those rare occasions where she had seen merfolk living in stone palaces below the ocean. She had even been to a plane where the entire ocean was ruled by a merfolk king in a palace so large she would have gotten lost there if not for a guide. But this temple was different. It seemed to be simply a hallway, one that never seemed to end.

As they swam slowly through the ancient hall, Ethal began to realize that something was wrong. The hallway just kept going, but if that were true, they would be inside the wall of the Marrey Trench itself by now, which was impossible. Nothing could carve out so large an area from the very rock, let alone make it look like a smoothed stone hallway. But more than that, the relief sculpture outside the temple bothered her. If there truly had been a gigantic octopus, and if it had been worshiped as a god by ancient merfolk, then this temple must have been a place for them to gather. But neither the hallway nor the doorway leading into the temple had been nearly large enough to allow the passage of such a massive creature.

With only the strange, magical light to illuminate the hall and the stifled, contained waters of the temple, Ethal had no accurate way to judge how much time had passed since they had entered. But eventually, after what she assumed had been a very long time, they came to another circular doorway, this one already open as if waiting for them. Ethal looked at each of her companions in turn, prepared herself, and swam through.

What she saw on the other side left her utterly speechless. The door had opened into a huge gathering area, far more huge than Ethal could have imagined. It was so large, in fact, that Ethal had been sure that she would see the ocean surface if she looked up, but she did not. It was enclosed, like the rest of the temple, and the stale water she could feel against her skin and her scales agreed with her vision. If there had once been an octopus twenty or thirty times larger than a merfolk, it could have fit comfortably into this room. But apart from the hallway through which the hunters had just come, there was no opening. So how could an octopus that large have gotten in?

The Maelstrom merfolk, led primarily by Addas, spent the next several minutes debating that very question. They talked over the issue as they made a thorough search of the room, which only validated Ethal’s assessment. There was no way in or out apart from the hallway. They searched the walls for a hidden door, they searched the ceiling for an unseen opening, but they found nothing. The room was completely empty save for a massive dais at the far end of the room and, beside that, a strange circular structure that was open in the center, like a doorway without a door, set several lengths away from the wall.

“Perhaps the octopus was not truly gigantic,” Addas suggested as the search came to a close, “but was only depicted that way outside.”

“Why would they do that?” Mordis asked.

Addas shrugged. “Perhaps to represent its importance to them?”

“Or maybe to frighten off enemies,” Noral offered. “I don’t think I’d be inclined to attack a cult if I thought they had a monster like that in here.”

“I’m not convinced that they were a cult,” Addas said.

“Well, they clearly don’t worship Phirsdon,” Ashal countered. “What else would you call them, if not a cult?”

“This place is ancient,” Theral said. “Maybe they were around before Phirsdon worship.”

“Precisely,” Addas agreed. “And if they didn’t know about Phirsdon, can we really call this a cult? Scholars believe that the merfolk of pre-history probably worshiped all kinds of strange creatures.”

“Creatures if we are lucky,” Ethal interjected.

“What do you mean?” Addas asked.

Ethal shook her head. “Why did the door open when I touched it? And what do you make of those idols in the hall. Why were none of them mer?”

The others were silent for a long time. “You think this has something to do with planeswimmers?” Theral asked, laying her hand gently on Ethal’s arm.

“Planeswimmers,” Ethal said with a nod, “and planeswalkers.”

“That’s impossible,” Mordis said, guessing his friend’s meaning. “Many of those statues looked human, right? No human could survive this deep. They must have some other meaning.”

“You’ve met human planeswimmers, haven’t you?” Ashal asked.

“They call themselves planeswalkers, but yes, I met a few in my travels.”

“And could they live underwater?” Ashal pressed.

“I do not believe so,” Ethal said thoughtfully. “Judging from the way they spoke about my experiences in the waters of those worlds.”

“You would know better than any of us, sister,” Addas said. “The stories we have heard of planeswimmers do suggest strong magic. What do you think, as a planeswimmer?”

Ethal shook her head. “I have no idea. I know no more magic now than I did before I left, apart from the mere act of ‘swimming from one world to another.”

“Which is pretty strong magic, you have to admit,” Noral commented.

Ethal merely nodded, running both hands through her long, black hair. “I feel like there is something we are missing, something we do not know.”

“About planeswimming?” Theral asked.

“About all of this,” Ethal said. “About planeswimming, I fear I know practically nothing.”

Addas swam over and laid a hand on Ethal’s shoulder. “Perhaps we can learn something about that here. As you say, this place seems to be about planeswimmers, somehow or another.”

“But how?” Ethal asked. “There is nothing here.”

“What about that thing?” Ashal asked, pointing to the stone circle.

“I examined that,” Addas said. “It appears decorative. There were not even markings on it.”

“Did Ethal examine it?” Noral asked. “Maybe it’s like the front door.”

Ethal and Addas exchanged a glance, then both shrugged at the same moment. Together, the six merfolk swam over to the standing stone circle. Even as she approached, Ethal felt that same tightness in her chest, and the stone began to respond to her presence. The planeswimmer hesitated for a long moment, suspecting what was coming, and then reached out and touched the stone. Again she felt a jolt run up and down her body, but this time, there was no loud noise, no stone to move out of the way. Instead, the water between the empty stone doorway rippled and crackled with magical energy before exploding in a flash of blinding light.

When the merfolk looked back at the strange doorway, what they saw was another temple. They could see another gathering chamber like the one they were in, the design almost identical, but what they saw was unbelievable to all but Ethal, and even she could only stare.

“The water…” Theral stammered. “It’s…it’s…”

“Green,” Ashal breathed.

Ethal nodded. “I have told you all the water can be different on different worlds.”

“That’s…that’s what we’re seeing, isn’t it?” Mordis managed. “That’s a different world, isn’t it?”

Ethal swam around to the other side of the otherworldly portal. All she could see was her five companions, but all they could see was the other gathering room. Ethal swam back to them. “I believe so. I do not pretend to know how this is possible, but I believe that is what we are seeing.”

“A portal to another world,” Addas whispered, venturing just slightly closer. “I never dreamed…”

“The water!” Ashal said suddenly. “It’s staying on that side! If this truly is a portal to that world, why is the water not mingling?”

“Perhaps they didn’t want it to,” Addas speculated.

“Who?”

“The planeswimmers, I suspect.” Addas answered his sister. “Who else? If it only responds to Ethal, it must be because she is a planeswimmer. Everything here is reacting to her. The place, this temple, knows she is a planeswimmer.”

“But why would planeswimmers need a portal between worlds?” Noral asked.

“She’s right,” Theral agreed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would a portal between planes only open to someone who could already ‘swim between them?”

When nobody could think of a satisfactory answer, Ethal squared her shoulders and swam up to the portal. “If there are answers, they are through there. And I’m going to find them.”

“I’m going with you,” Mordis said, followed by a chorus of agreement from the others.

“No,” Ethal said, turning to face her family and her friends. “I appreciate it, really. More than you know, in fact. But I need to do this alone.”

“We came with you this far,” Ashal said. “We’re not afraid to stay with you to the end.”

“This has nothing to do with fear, sister. Had something happened in this temple, the School was outside, and could have helped. If we get into trouble in another world, what happens then? If this portal closes, I can escape that world. You cannot. I must do this alone, for your good.”

As she turned around to swim through the portal, Mordis blocked her path. “If you need us, Ethal, you call us. I would rather find myself trapped on a foreign world than know you died alone.”

The two friends embraced. Then Ethal pulled away, readied her sling spear, nodded to the others, and moved across the portal’s threshold. As she crossed, she knew instantly that she was in another world. While the water in the other temple had been stale, the water here was all but dead. It was virtually completely starved of oxygen. It was cold, but not like the frigid waters of the Great Floe, but rather like the cold of a dead merfolk being prepared for the passage through the Tides of Being. But worse, spine-curlingly worse, was that the water was still. Ethal could feel no movement in the water, no current pressing constantly against her body. She had only been on a handful of worlds, but she had never been on one with still waters.

She didn’t like it.

Whereas the temple on her home plane had been lit by an eerie if bright blue light, this temple was lit by a sickly and inconsistent green one to match the tint of the water. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Ethal quickly searched the gigantic gathering chamber and, as before, found nothing. She made the decision that she would follow the hallway to this temple’s door, make sure there was nothing different about the two, and then turn back. She threw a glance back at her friends, who she could just see on the other side of the portal watching her, and then slipped through the open doorway and into the hallway beyond.

Almost immediately, Ethal’s brave smile collapsed into a frown. While the gathering chamber had been nearly identical, it was immediately clear that the rest of the temple was not a copy of the one on her home plane. Rather, this temple was clearly substantially larger than the one where her friends and siblings waited. The hallway, instead of being a single straight line, broke off in several directions, in some places left and right, in other places up and down, with no indication of which path led where. With a sigh, Ethal began a tedious room to room search.

She searched for a long time. She had no idea how long, but every room she searched seemed to lead to another set of hallways and rooms. This temple was utterly massive, and she was just beginning to fear she would lose her way, especially considering the strange green light illuminating the temple was growing dim. But then, she came across a doorway to a room that stood out to her. The archway into the room was elaborately decorated, and the light was brighter here than anywhere else in the temple. Stranger still, the door was mostly blocked, not by a stone door, but rather by a haphazard pile of rubble that seemed to have been stacked up from the inside.

Her curiosity piqued, Ethal began to clear away the rubble. The work was surprisingly easy, as many of the materials used for the impromptu blockade had apparently taken the brunt of the years, and crumbled in her hands. After just a few short minutes, she had made enough of a hole that she could get through with little problem. Ethal took up her sling spear again, drawing the freshly harvested Slingback Ray tail to tension, as she slipped inside.

There, at the far end of the shadowy room, was a brilliant marble pedestal carved in the shape of an upside down octopus, its tentacles forming a small bowl. Inside the slight recess of the bowl, there was a metallic sphere roughly the size of Ethal’s head. Metal was a rarity in the ocean, and most of what was there were rusted pieces of junk carelessly discarded by surface dwellers. But this sphere was pristine, smooth and flawless apart from the numerous holes dotting its surface, which seemed to have been placed there intentionally. Ethal had seen much in her time on other worlds, but untainted metal fascinated her beyond almost anything.

As Ethal moved to grab the sphere, a voice sounded through her mind, nearly stopping her heart. The water around her did not move with the voice. I knew you would come.

Ethal stopped dead in the water, her eyes darting around the shadows for the source of the voice. After a few tense moments, a form appeared from against the wall to the left of the pedestal, causing the planeswimmer to cringe. At first, it was difficult to tell what the creature was, but after a moment, Ethal’s eyes grew wide as she realized it was a massive jellyfish, nearly as large as Ethal herself. It was a dull orange shade, but its membrane looked thin, even wrinkled, and Ethal, though no expert, suspected it was extremely old. The voice that echoed in her head reminded her of the eldest of Elders she had ever known in the school, and a great bit older than that, and it was tinged with a timeless hatred.

“Who are you?” Ethal asked, raising her sling spear.

I am the last.

Ethal’s brow furrowed. “The last? The last what?”

The last who was taken, its voice shook in her mind as it spoke. The last who remembers. Its ancient membrane seemed to almost flash red. The last you will see!

The creature thrust its tentacles forward as a bolt of purple energy careened toward Ethal. Acting on her hunter’s instinct, she rolled to her right, avoiding the blast. The creature’s appendages were already working a complex pattern in front of it when Ethal aimed her sling spear and released. The barbed spear flew through the still water, only to bounce harmlessly off a magical barrier that appeared in front of the jellyfish. Ethal grunted in annoyance, drew her hand spear, and rushed forward, but despite its appearance, the old creature was faster. A bolt of energy struck Ethal’s right wrist and pulled it backwards as if held by strong arms. As Ethal tried to power out, a second bolt struck her left wrist and held it likewise. As Ethal struggled in vain, her wide pectoral muscles straining against her captivity, the jellyfish bobbed.

I have had eternities to prepare for your arrival. I do not know how you pierced the ban, but you will not take your prize. I can feel the magic dying, and my purpose is fulfilled. But you, Cabal monster, shall die first.

The jellyfish started to move its tentacles again as a black mist formed in the water in front of it. Ethal continued to struggle, but it was useless. The magic holding her arms was too strong. In the back of her mind, she remembered Mordis’s words at the portal and screamed out to him, and to her brother and sister, to Theral and Noral. She screamed out with everything within her, but somehow, her scream gave no vibration to the water around her. She made no sound. Yet still, she felt the scream surround her and spread. She felt it leave this still plane and reach her friends. And, in a moment of connection that almost made Ethal weep, she felt them respond.

One moment, there was only Ethal and the ancient jellyfish, preparing its spell. In the next instant, the others were there, Addas and Ashal, Mordis, Theral, and Noral. For just an instant, everyone looked around, confused and disoriented. Then Ethal focused her attention on the creature. “Please help me! Stop that thing!”

As one, the other five turned on the ancient jellyfish, but the wrinkled wretch seemed ready. You’re not the only one who can summon, planeswimmer! Your kind may be the alpha predators of the Eternities, but here, there is no greater than the Paragon Shark!

From out of the black mist gathering in front of the jellyfish emerged the nose of a gigantic shark, and the Maelstrom merfolk froze in terror. In moments, the rest of the shark appeared as well, and the merfolk could only stare in confusion. The shark was nothing more than a cartilage skeleton, and as the last of it appeared out of the mist, the entire thing slowly settled to the floor, harmless.

In that instant, the jellyfish seemed to deflate. Its orange membrane drooped and it allowed itself to sink down toward the stone floor. The energy manacles holding Ethal slowly sputtered out of existence, releasing her. She swam up to the jellyfish, who, despite having no eyes to stare and no mouth to frown, seemed to be focused solely and remorsefully on the shark skeleton, unbelieving.

Am I truly the last, it said to no one in particular. There was a cry in its mental voice. Am I the last living being on Mril? I cannot be. The others, they do not die. They cannot…

“Mril?” Addas asked. “Is that the name for this world? Mril?”

The jellyfish bobbed once. You don’t know? It seemed to shift slightly, its tentacles drifting in Ethal’s direction You? You don’t know?

Ethal shook her head. “I have never heard of this world. I have not been a planeswimmer for long, and I have not been to many worlds.”

Then, the jellyfish said, its voice struggling. Then you are not with the Cabal?

“What is the Cabal?”

The creature reached out and grabbed Ethal’s wrist with its two foremost tentacles. Ethal expected them to sting, but if anything, they felt surprisingly smooth. You truly do not know? You are truly not one of them? Please, I beg you, speak the truth. Do you truly know nothing of the Dominia Cabal?

“I swear to Phirsdon, I have never heard of them.”

The jellyfish seemed to pause. I do not know that name, but I believe your eyes. What is your name, traveler?

“I am Ethal, daughter of Iral.”

I was known as Holopa. I am the custodian of all the magic on Mril. This temple was used by the Cabal, but it is an antediluvian place. We were here before the Cabal flooded Mril, and we swore we would be here to the end. The Cabal used us, controlled us, and as they abandoned us, they hid their prize here, and we used everything we had to lock it away from them. No planeswimmers could ‘swim into this plane, and I was to protect this place, sustained by the plane’s magic for as long as it could sustain me. But if there is no more life here, then the plane is dying, or already dead. Its magic is dying now, and so, perhaps, must I. Soon after, the ban will fade, and if any of the Cabal still live, and still remember, they will come.

Holopa began to convulse, churning the waters before him. Please, Ethal, daughter of Iral. You cannot allow the Cabal to regain their prize. You have no idea what they have done, and to how many! Please, take it from this world. Please, do not let our sacrifices be for nothing.

The jellyfish convulsed again, a moment later, its tentacles slid off of Ethal’s wrist. Hopola deflated then and sank the rest of the way to the floor. It did not move again. The planeswimmer stared for a long moment before Addas broke the stillness. “If the magic of this world kept it alive, it must have used up the last of it trying to protect it.”

“It killed itself trying to kill us,” Mordis said.

“Speaking of us,” Theral said, “how did you bring us here?”

Ethal struggled to find words, but at first could only shake her head. Finally, she found words. “I do not know. I only know that I needed you.”

“Do you think you could do it again? Whenever you wanted?” Ashal asked, her short voice hopeful.

“I do not think so,” Ethal admitted. “I do not truly know what I did.”

“Umm, Ethal?” Noral asked, fidgeting slightly with her hands. “Don’t you think we should maybe get out of here? I mean, if you don’t think you can summon us at will, and the magic of this plane apparently just died…”

“Phirsdon’s Trident!” Addas exclaimed. His eyes grew wide as he realized what Noral was saying. “It must be magic keeping the portal open!”

Just as he said that, the green light illuminating the room began to flicker and die. For a moment, everyone panicked. Then Ethal was moving. She grabbed Mordis’s net out of his hands and swam up to the metal sphere, scooping it up unceremoniously and tying the net in on itself. She then swam back to Mordis and thrust the net into his hands.

“Whatever happens, Mordis, do not let go of that.”

Mordis nodded. “You can trust me.”

“I know,” Ethal said. “Now, everyone, we need to hurry. Follow me close, keep up, and don’t let anything get in your way!”

Without another word, Ethal darted through the opening she had made in Hopola’s barricade. Noral came right behind him, followed by Ashal and Theral. Addas came next, and struggled to get through. Mordis, however, was even more broad-shouldered than Ethal or Addas, and could not get through. The others scrambled to clear the path further, and eventually freed him, but as they did, the light had nearly faded. Ethal took only enough time to make sure Mordis was alright before taking off again through the temple, the other five merfolk following in a frantic race.

Ethal darted this way and that, twisting left, right, upward, and downward without a moment’s hesitation as the others followed her blindly. As she swam, she kept her mind on moving her tail, and fought off the fear that she had forgotten the twisting path back. If she had, her brother, her sister, and her friends would be stuck on this dead world forever, or more accurately, until they died. Ethal could not let that happen. She could not live with herself if she did.

Just as the light around them faded completely, Ethal burst into the hallway leading to the gathering hall.

“Straight ahead! Make for the portal! Go!”

Ashal, the fastest of them, sprinted ahead of Ethal. Noral, who was shaking at the thought of being forever stranded, was close behind her. Addas and Theral came next as Ethal waved them on. Mordis, the slowest of them, brought up the rear, and was beating his tail as hard as he could while hanging on with both hands to the net with the metal sphere. Ethal was side by side with Mordis as Ashal made it through the portal. The light was completely gone now, with nothing to illuminate the cavernous hall but the light from the portal itself.

And that was beginning to fade.

Noral crashed through the portal next. Theral and Addas passed through in almost the same instant. But the light was disappearing. Ethal knew that she was fast enough to make it, if just barely, but Mordis was going to be just a fraction too slow. With a deep breath of the oxygen-deprived water, she yelled.

“Whatever happens, Mordis, hold on!”

As they neared the portal, Ethal thrust herself forward, ahead of Mordis, and grabbed the net with both hands. Then she banked and pivoted, using her entire body weight to hurl the net into the closing portal. Mordis, though slower than Ethal, had always been the stronger of the two, and held on. Ethal’s momentum thrust Mordis forward, and he vanished into the portal just as the light from it died completely, and Ethal was left alone in the dark of the dead plane of Mril.

Six sleeps passed for the Merfolk of the Maelstrom as they kept a constant vigil at the temple portal. Most of the School stayed outside, fearful of the place and what it might do to any who entered it. Mordis had made it through, and crashed headlong into Ashal and Addas in the process, but the portal had closed the moment he had passed through. There was no sign of Ethal. They waited there for a very long time, hoping that the planeswimmer might find some way to reactivate the ancient device or simply appear back in the gathering chamber, but nothing happened. Eventually, they were forced to leave the temple and return to the School, and, even worse, explain to the Tribunal what had happened.

To her credit, Iral did not cry when they told her that Ethal was gone. The Tribunal decided, unanimously, that the School would wait for one week to see if Ethal would return. She was, after all, a planeswimmer, and a fierce warrior at that. She could make it. Karas assured his children that Ethal would return soon. Iral said nothing. Addas vowed to spend the week studying the temple in the hope of powering the portal without the presence of a planeswimmer. Ashal and Theral vowed to watch the portal for his return. Mordis merely brooded, and refused to let go of the net with the metallic sphere, even in his sleep.

On the morning after the seventh sleep, the School made preparations to renew their travels. Iral led the preparations herself, encouraging any within the clan who wanted to wait to prepare themselves. About Ethal, she said nothing, even when one of the Maelstrom merfolk asked her directly. Ashal, Addas, Theral, Mordis, and Noral went before the Tribunal one last time to ask permission to wait, saying that they would catch up to the School soon. They just wanted another few days to wait. The Tribunal refused their request, and at midday, the School left the forgotten temple and continued toward the Reefwaters.

They had been travelling for two days when Ethal appeared, swimming toward them from the north. The School celebrated with a shout so boisterous that it must have shaken the waves on the surface, but Ethal barely registered it. She looked weak, sickly, and broken. She had not eaten in all the time she was gone. She had been drinking and breathing the dying waters of Mril, and had only just survived. The ban that Holopa had mentioned had, she explained, kept her from ‘swimming out, and had the ban taken any longer to fade, she would surely have died.

One by one, she embraced her friends and her family. They had been her strength, she knew.

And they always would be.