That was hundreds of years ago. Many believe the city was lost, its citizens drowned, its treasures forever gone. The towers of Amachteschky, they said, ripped the nets of the fishermen who happened to sail above the abandoned streets of the town. And sure, many sad remains of the city washed upon the shore of Meeuwenstrand.
The people of the coast looked over the sea and said to each other: “Well, that is what happens when Aasers fury is upon you, his frenzy will flood you and your life will end deep below the waves.”
And they prayed some more.
But not all.
In a basement in Vîmeir, Master Sou Quadjé worked on his apparatus. The huge hull of steel covered the more delicate technics inside, where gears moved and wheels turned under the pressure of steam. The hissing of tamed steam filled the Master’s ears as he stepped back and looked at his handiwork.
It was a steam fish, he thought, the fins shiny, and the glass eyes gazing at the world. He padded the tail of the vehicle and took off his hat. He sweat. It would not be a problem inside the thing, for he had thought of that. It was just too hot and too narrow inside to do without his anti-sweat device.
Grinning, he walked the stairs. The next day would be the big day. His big day. He took the stairs two at a time and whistled a popular song.
“Palona?” he asked as he reached his hall. “Palona? Where are you?” He looked around in his hall, through the doors into the other rooms, searching his housekeeper. She was not in the pantry, nor in the kitchen, as he had expected, considering the time. He was hungry and went into the dining room. In the cupboard he found a bottle of Isatèr wine and poured himself a glass of it. He felt himself a happy man. It was time to celebrate. The next day, he would take off. It was unsure whether he would return or not. It was an adventure, and he was looking forward to it.
On the Vîmeir cloth market, Palona had met her sister Mariol and they talked about almost everything that sisters might find interesting. Palona explained her sister she had the order to buy a piece of cloth, an extraordinary big piece of cloth. And it had to be as cheap as possible.
“The gentleman I work for,” she told Mariol, “I sometimes think Lukarna has taken his brightness. Or maybe he has drunk too much Tuijon while he studied in Ildritz.”
“That man you work for,” asked her sister, “What does he do for a living? I never seen him doing anything.”
“He is an inventor, he says,” answered Palona. “But indeed, you never see him doing anything. He works in his secret basement laboratory and he would not even let me in to clean out the mess.”
“He never tells you what he works on?”
“It is a secret, “ Palona explained. “It might be - somewhat beyond the law. It might even be - blasphemous.”
“Blasphemous?” her Mariol yelped. “Did you say - he actually does things that the Gods will disapprove of?”
“It might be,” Palona whispered now. “Who knows for sure? But - you know- he has all these pictures of Azurhem in his study. He calls the city by its old, proper name, Amachteschky. And he goes to look at the waves very often. He studies fish. And underwater breathing. He is up to something and I’m not sure - he might be doing something stupid.”
“He is a man,” her sister said, and giggled.
“You fancy him, don’t you?” asked Palona, and giggled, too.
“Don’t you? He is rich, he is handsome and he is-”
Before Mariol could say more, a hand pulled her shoulder. “I don’t pay you for talking.” The harsh gentleman who turned her looked at her with fearless eyes. “Come on, home with you.” They left the cloth market. Palona stood alone among the crowd and remembered she had to go home. Back to her mad inventor. She hoped he wouldn’t punish her for being much too late.
Master Quadjé sat at the breakfast table with mixed emotions. He wanted to take off as soon as possible. He needed the tide to take him where he wanted to go, but it was the tide that forced him to wait a little longer. Angry he stood up and paced the room. He had to keep calm. He had to do something. He ran down the stairs, into his basement.
Once more he looked in awe at his beautiful ship. From nose to tail its steel glanced rich and strong. It was his last change to see his ship in all quietness before the adventure. He took the cloth Palona had bought him and put his masterpiece under it. It was not for the eyes of men he made his ship.
Then, he opened the basement doors and let the sharp, salty sea breeze come in. The World Sea lay calm and quiet, a greenish grey under a blue sky. It promised to be a good day for sailing, although where he would go no day would be detected and sails were useless.
He walked back to the ship and touched her cold skin under the cloth. Then he pushed her forwards to the doors, and further along the rail track he had made.
At the end of the rail track, he stopped. The salty water rinsed around his shoes. Quickly, he walked back and closed the basement doors. High above him, Vîmeirs life continued. They wouldn’t see him nor his ship now he was on the private beach between Vîmeirs rocky hills. He grinned and got into the ship. The water washed over the rail track, higher with the tide, and higher as the time passed, and finally the whole ship was swallowed by the waves.
It was narrow inside, and as he heated the engine, it quickly became hot. He released the steam and the gears were set in motion. Chains clattered, wheels turned, steam hissed. The ship slowly moved forward, swimming into the depths of the sea.
Sou sat at the steering wheel and looked through the glass windows of his ship. It was very dark under the waves, and the lights he had attached to the ship didn’t help much. The windows were small and the thick glass seemed to distort the vision he had from the underwater world. Sometimes, he saw things moving, but couldn’t make out what is was. Seaweeds, algae or fish, or perhaps something else?
He headed north, and as soon as he had left the coast of Bakeneiland he found himself pushed forwards by a strong stream. He lowered the pressure of the engine to save some energy and air. A short check on the ship’s controls confirmed him that she was still all right. No leaks, and everything was doing well. He nibbled on a biscuit and took a sip of his beer.
It seemed a score or more stonds that passed. It was as if days and nights did not longer exist under the waves. The gloomy grey light that got into the ship was beyond all times. Sou sat in his ship and wondered where he was, and what time it was. Was he really under the waves? It felt more like a bad dream from which he could not wake up. Where was the beauty he was looking for? The hidden secrets that should be down here? What was left of Amachteschky and where was it to be found?
A face looked through the window. Sou wondered where the face came from. It just was there. He opened his eyes wide, and felt like coming from a deep sleep - the vision stayed unsteady and out of focus behind the thick glass. He wiped the sweat from his brow and studied the face in front of him.
It was female. Yes, it must be, although Sou could not tell how he knew. Large green eyes stared at him through the window, green eyes like oceans in a pale face, and bluish hair floated around it, gently pulled by the deep sea streams, entangled with seaweeds, small shells and shrimps. Her mouth, with sweet silver lips, formed words. He did not hear her.
Then she winked with a long fingered hand.
He waved at her, just as slow as she did, as if everything was seen through a machine that caught and slowed down the stonds. Then she moved from the window, and after a first painful feeling of loss, Sou was flooded with the sensation of seeing Amachteschky.
The city looked like she was lingering in the light of a very filtered Fon. Old silver, pale blue and greyish green shades covered the buildings, that stood upright in all their ancient beauty. Turrets and towers, walls, doors and gates, all there, but so lifeless. Windows like dead eyes, gazing blind into abandoned alleys, deserted streets. Even fish seemed to have left the place.
Garlands of seaweeds and algae hung down from roofs and rusted balconies, and they softly swayed into the sea stream, like it was soft summer wind playing with lace curtains.
A knock on the hull of the ship made Sou look up. Another knock was heard. He turned from the window and looked into the darkness of the vessel. Above him was the hatch to the open sea. He only had to open it to enter that strange undersea city.
Then the woman was visible again at the window. She winked at him, and made gestures, and he was sure she invited him to come into the city. Her lips moved and made unheard words. And breathed. And longed to be kissed. And as she moved from the window into the city, he could see the rest of her body.
She breathed, deep below the waves in this underwater world, and her breasts with her chest slowly moved up and down. Her naked torso swayed more than swam in the water, above the fishtail she had.
Somehow, he was not surprised. He had heard of these creatures, but no one had ever told him they were gorgeous.
She winked again.
He knew he had to get out. It was necessary for his research of the city. She could be his guide, he decided. He reached for his overcoat and put it on, pulled his silken tie straight. He felt his chin - no need to shave yet. A last check in the reflecting window and he knew he looked all right to meet the lady of this strange people in the flesh.
He turned the bolts of the hatch, and wondered why he had turned them so tight. After what seems stonds the last bolt came off. He pushed open the hatch, heavy against the water pressure. Then he pulled himself up, and got out of the vessel. He breathed deep, keen to catch some fresh marine air.
Then he jumped down and walked the sea bottom, slow, but gentlemanly towards the fishtailed female.
“I haven’t seen him in days,” Palona said after a while.
“You don’t even know where he went to?”
“I am his housekeeper, not his chaperone,” snapped Palona and tossed too much salt on the Angshore.
“Maybe he went to his lover in Ildritz,” Mariol said. A lot of men had that, she knew from the cheap Domestics, men had lovers in Ildritz, lonely ladies, widows in large palaces, longing for some love.
She did not notice that Palona went pale and nearly fainted. Her mad inventor and some lover in Ildritz? Only if the Skaduus was over him. He had the perfect wife in Vîmeir, although, she had to confess, they never had loved each other as they did in the more popular Domestics. She blushed at the thought of it. She, and her mad inventor, lovers... he didn’t even tell her where he went and he was gone for two days now. He could be laying dead in his lab-
“Maybe he is in his secret laboratory, wounded - or worse,” Palona said. She grabbed her keys and walked into the hall. Her sister followed her quickly.
The two women hastily ran down the stairs after Palona had opened the door, down the stairs and into the mirk secret laboratory. It smelled awful there, all oil and coal. And that made it dirty too. But the laboratory was conveniently arranged and tidy.
“He doesn’t seem to be here,” Mariol said softly.
“No.” Palona felt something strange inside her. She walked through the laboratory, sniffed, peeked, tried to pick up something of the man she had loved and who had left her behind just like that. How come she never told him she did love him? Only the phantasm of his handsome, elegant body, his slicked back hair, the smart dark eyes under the heavy eyebrows made her want to grab him and tell him what an idiot he was to leave her.
She opened the doors of the laboratory in order to get some fresh air inside, and walked surprised along the rail track. She picked up the cloth she had bought him just two days ago. Then, she saw his footsteps leading into the sea... back to the doors, again to the water, and then they did not return...
It looked like Aasers own palace. They roamed the rooms and walked the halls of the amazing architecture, the richly decorated buildings. It also looked like the older parts of Baurghs, ancient Tel-Roz’lot, sister to Amachteschky, city on the End of the Dunes. But less decayed. Purer. No man has ever touched the grace and serenity of this peaceful place.
“It is nice to be here with you,” Master Quadjé said polite to his female guide. It sounded like a whisper. She smiled, and did not answer. She took his hand and guided him inside one of the larger buildings, that looked like a temple.
In the middle of the temple was a large marble basin, filled with water, dark and deep like a bottomless pool - which it probably was. Master Quadjé walked towards it, and bent over the black water. It was straight like a mirror, and he saw his own clean shaven face - and the pretty, friendly face of Palona. It faded quick and changed into the gorgeous features of the fishtailed female who now hovered over the pool.
“You have to love me,” Master Quadjé suddenly heard inside him, like an echo, the echo of a voice like chimes. “If you look into the pool, you will see the one you really love. Who do you see now?”
Master Quadjé looked again, and saw nothing but his tailed companion. And yes, he wanted to love her, and he obeyed her as she guided him into the remote parts of the temple.
There, they kissed, and he stroked the little silver mirrors on her cold tail. It felt like the hull of his ship. Her silver lips tasted salt upon his and he ran out of breath during the kiss. She took off his overcoat and loosened his tie. As she unbuttoned his shirt, he got unconscious and drifted away into the memories of Amachteschky.
“He is gone,” Palona said. She kneeled down in front of the bronze basin and said her prayers to Aaser. The seaweeds burned smelly in their shells next to the woman. It was quiet in the temple. As Palona finished her prayer, she got up and looked into the basin. It was filled with clear water, and the dark bottom of the basin was invisible under the mirroring water surface.
Palona saw her own face reflected, but suddenly some waves drifted over the water and changed the image. A young woman with a pale face and long, bluish hair looked up from the depths of the basin.
“He is mine,” she said with silver lips. Then she closed her green eyes and was gone.
Some days later, a wrecker at Meeuwenstrand found a strange thing in the waves that rolled upon the sandy beach. The steel hull was battered and rusted, and with great difficulty the shape of a fish could be seen in the thing. There was a kind of hatch on top of the thing, and inside it smelled strange, the salty smell of the sea mixed with smoke and oil. It was empty. The inside was ruined. There was not a thing of any worth to be found, just empty bottles, some crumbs of bread, rusted metal, pure junk, and dead fishes. Nothing worthwhile, except for a small silver mirror, as big as a hand.
The wrecker took it and went to his home in Nest. There, he sold the mirror as a mermaids fish scale to some gullible merchant from Lameirvar. The wrecker got five skilliggs for it, and he laughed. Five skilliggs for just another worthless shiny fish scale.
The sea was full of it.
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