Under the Lagoon

The water was colder than she had expected, and warmer. It was like diving into the memory of rain.

Ibiye held her hand and they sank, not fast, a slow, drifting descent through layers of green and blue and deepening gold. Silver fish scattered. A turtle glided past with a look of mild disapproval. Above them the surface faded to a dim lantern.

She expected to drown. She did not. Something about the water, or the goddess's touch, or Ibiye's fingers, lit a strange glow in her chest, and when she drew breath, it came easily. It tasted of coconut and starlight.

"You can speak," said Ibiye. "You will not choke."

"I know. I'm just... I'm not sure what to say."

"Most visitors scream."

"Do many visitors come?"

"One in a century." The corner of his mouth moved. "It is a small guest list."

They landed on soft white sand. Before them, rising out of the dark water, stood a city.

She had no word for it. Towers of coral spiralled up into the green gloom, glowing pink and violet. Arches of pearl, bridges of living kelp, windows of translucent shell. Fish drifted through the streets in shining shoals, like sparks. A great whale passed overhead, slow as a cathedral. And everywhere, the music: a low vast murmur, the hum of the sea itself, the sound of ten thousand voices singing on the edge of hearing.

"Welcome to Ile Okun," said Ibiye.

"It's..." Her eyes stung. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"It is dying."

She turned.

He stood very still, his face unreadable. But now she saw the shadows beneath his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders. He looked tired, in a way that no one so young should look.

"What do you mean?"

"Come. I will show you."

He led her through the streets, past coral shops and kelp gardens, past a market where merfolk and fish and strange translucent beings bartered in the clicking tongue of the deep. They bowed to him as he passed. They looked at her with fear, and with hope.

At the edge of the city they came to a wall. It was made of pearl, towering, shimmering. But halfway up, a black stain spread across its surface, like oil on water. The pearl around it was grey and cracked.

"The Rot," said Ibiye. "It began five years ago. Nobody knows why. It spreads. The water turns sour. The fish die. The coral bleaches. At the current rate, in two years, Ile Okun will be a graveyard."

"Is it pollution?"

"I do not know your word."

"Oil. Waste. Chemicals." She reached out. The pearl was slimy. She sniffed it and recoiled. "Hydrocarbons. Petroleum. This is oil, Ibiye."

"Oil."

"From the surface. From the pipelines." She turned. "Do you know what's been happening in the Delta for sixty years? The spills? The burnt flares? The people in my village can't fish anymore. The mangroves are dying."

"We did not know it travelled this far."

"It travels everywhere." Her voice was hard. "My father lost three boats to a pipeline leak. Half my cousins have skin disease."

Ibiye looked at her. His green eyes were brilliant. "Then you understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why Mami Wata asked for you." He took a breath. "Tonye. The Rot is not a curse. It is a sickness. And no one in our world knows how to cure a sickness of the surface. We need someone who knows both worlds. Someone born on the water, but trained on the land."

"A marine biologist."

"A bridge." His expression was almost shy. "We prayed for one. Twenty-one years ago, when your mother nearly died, the goddess saw something in your unborn spirit. Not a debt. A destiny."

"Then why didn't she say so?"

"She is a goddess. They prefer drama."

Tonye laughed, and the sound startled her. It rang through the coral like a bell.

"You could have asked."

"Would you have come?"

She thought about it. "No," she admitted. "I'd have called the police."

"Precisely."

"But you could have told me tonight. Instead of letting my father think I was a payment."

"That was Mami's decision." His voice dropped. "I argued. She overruled me. I'm sorry."

"You argued with a goddess?"

"Frequently." He looked suddenly embarrassed. "It is not a good career move."

She stood in front of the wall, with the black Rot spreading over its surface, and the beautiful dying city behind her. Seven nights, she thought. It was a short time to save a world.

"All right," she said. "Show me everything."