offer the pressure more surface. It went better than he’d feared. Wavering, swaying, and with an intense discomfort in his stomach, he was lifted up high by the stream of salt water with a gentleness that hewouldn’t have dreamed possible in a monster like Jasconius.
“This is fantastic!” he shouted, laughing.
Five feet, then ten, he now floated over the whale’s back—all told, certainly some dozen fathoms over the surface of the sea. Gulls flew away, screaming, upset over this intrusion into their domain. Water sprayed up around Griffin, and yet he succeeded in looking in all four directions.
He discovered the fog. A gray stripe like lead that someone had sprinkled over the horizon. Far away, but certainly reachable within a day, perhaps faster if Jasconius hurried.
Scarcely had he seen the fog when the pressure decreased, and the water stream gradually subsided beneath him. Griffin floated down as if on a magic carpet and was set back on top of the blowhole almost tenderly.
A little dizzy, but relieved, he let himself slide down the curve of the whale’s body on the seat of his pants and splashed into the water. With a few strokes he glided alongside Jasconius’s gigantic eye, which regarded him curiously. At first Griffin was going to swim on, but then he stopped and trod water and turned toward the mighty black eye, at least twice as large as he was himself.
It was the first time he’d been able to look directly at the whale’s eye. Its curving surface was like a mirror—it looked as if Griffin’s image was imprisoned in a dark glass ball. But there was more than curiosity in the animal’s eye. A trace of melancholy?
Griffin lingered so long in front of Jasconius’s eye that Ebenezer called to him in concern. Even then he wasn’t ableto detach himself from that gaze right away. He had never seen anything more beautiful, and yet it filled him with inexpressible sorrow. Perhaps the monster’s centuries-long loneliness was rubbing off onto him. What was going on in the whale’s head? What was he thinking about the tiny beings in his interior? Was he pleased to have a little company after so long a time?
A deep booming sounded, almost a trumpeting—the voice of the whale. It was a warm, friendly sound, and suddenly Griffin could do nothing else but smile at the whale eye and wave to him with one hand. It was a wonderful, confusing moment. Only then did he shed his heavyheartedness. He felt as if the whale wanted to share something with him, thousands of stories from thousands of years.
Ebenezer reached both hands out to Griffin and helped him climb into the whale’s mouth.
Griffin pointed. “That direction,” he said, and then he and the monk fell into each other’s arms with relief.
Swiftly they made their way back into the whale’s stomach and to the door on the rubble heap.
Jasconius shut his mouth and waited until they had reached the magic room. Then he dove and swam with mighty flipper strokes toward the sea star city.
Into the Maelstrom
Jolly didn’t know how long they’d been under way when Captain d’Artois turned his head toward them and pointed wordlessly ahead. She sat up and squinted her eyes into tiny slits to discern anything in the glaring light of the sun. But the spectacle in the distance was impossible to take in at one look. She had to turn her head in order to see it from one end to the other.
“It’s so big,” she whispered.
Far, far away the line of the sea dissolved into a gray fog, not unlike the fog wall around Aelenium, and yet much higher and inconceivably wide. The water below them was churning, but it had nothing about it of the unrest of an approaching storm, and anyway the air was almost windless. The farther ahead Jolly looked, the more clearly she could see that they were already over the outermost currents of atitanic whirlpool: The sea moved in broad, sweeping orbits from west to east, like the annual rings on a severed tree trunk. And it
“This is fantastic!” he shouted, laughing.
Five feet, then ten, he now floated over the whale’s back—all told, certainly some dozen fathoms over the surface of the sea. Gulls flew away, screaming, upset over this intrusion into their domain. Water sprayed up around Griffin, and yet he succeeded in looking in all four directions.
He discovered the fog. A gray stripe like lead that someone had sprinkled over the horizon. Far away, but certainly reachable within a day, perhaps faster if Jasconius hurried.
Scarcely had he seen the fog when the pressure decreased, and the water stream gradually subsided beneath him. Griffin floated down as if on a magic carpet and was set back on top of the blowhole almost tenderly.
A little dizzy, but relieved, he let himself slide down the curve of the whale’s body on the seat of his pants and splashed into the water. With a few strokes he glided alongside Jasconius’s gigantic eye, which regarded him curiously. At first Griffin was going to swim on, but then he stopped and trod water and turned toward the mighty black eye, at least twice as large as he was himself.
It was the first time he’d been able to look directly at the whale’s eye. Its curving surface was like a mirror—it looked as if Griffin’s image was imprisoned in a dark glass ball. But there was more than curiosity in the animal’s eye. A trace of melancholy?
Griffin lingered so long in front of Jasconius’s eye that Ebenezer called to him in concern. Even then he wasn’t ableto detach himself from that gaze right away. He had never seen anything more beautiful, and yet it filled him with inexpressible sorrow. Perhaps the monster’s centuries-long loneliness was rubbing off onto him. What was going on in the whale’s head? What was he thinking about the tiny beings in his interior? Was he pleased to have a little company after so long a time?
A deep booming sounded, almost a trumpeting—the voice of the whale. It was a warm, friendly sound, and suddenly Griffin could do nothing else but smile at the whale eye and wave to him with one hand. It was a wonderful, confusing moment. Only then did he shed his heavyheartedness. He felt as if the whale wanted to share something with him, thousands of stories from thousands of years.
Ebenezer reached both hands out to Griffin and helped him climb into the whale’s mouth.
Griffin pointed. “That direction,” he said, and then he and the monk fell into each other’s arms with relief.
Swiftly they made their way back into the whale’s stomach and to the door on the rubble heap.
Jasconius shut his mouth and waited until they had reached the magic room. Then he dove and swam with mighty flipper strokes toward the sea star city.
Into the Maelstrom
Jolly didn’t know how long they’d been under way when Captain d’Artois turned his head toward them and pointed wordlessly ahead. She sat up and squinted her eyes into tiny slits to discern anything in the glaring light of the sun. But the spectacle in the distance was impossible to take in at one look. She had to turn her head in order to see it from one end to the other.
“It’s so big,” she whispered.
Far, far away the line of the sea dissolved into a gray fog, not unlike the fog wall around Aelenium, and yet much higher and inconceivably wide. The water below them was churning, but it had nothing about it of the unrest of an approaching storm, and anyway the air was almost windless. The farther ahead Jolly looked, the more clearly she could see that they were already over the outermost currents of atitanic whirlpool: The sea moved in broad, sweeping orbits from west to east, like the annual rings on a severed tree trunk. And it
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