The thick salt taste of the sea air was preferable to the stench of rotting flesh that clogged his nose, and a shrieking of seagulls nearly deafened him to what the local worker was telling him. Behind him, three beached cetaceans lay glistening in under a dismal, overcast sky. The light was enough that every gem of moisture fallen from the heavens reflected a prism before falling to sand, to fill puddles or tide pools, to soak skin or cloth.

"I don’ get it, doc," the local dockhand was telling him, "I know it goes on elsewhere, like? But we ain’t never seen such in these waters as I ever heard."

The small coastal town was on a lagoon. Two long piers stretched into the water from either side of the baymouth towards the open sea. Small fishing ships had been docked for the occasion, as the fishing was suddenly poor outside the bay.

"I mean, that they were all comin’ in like that was odd ‘nough, but…"

According to the locals, the only thing past the bar was the brine.

"It’s like none of ‘em want ta be out on the ocean; not even th’ birds."

The oceanographer glanced over his shoulder, to the bloated corpses. Seagulls circled, landing and scavenging as was their life… but ravenous and aggressive, even to one another.

Past the beach and its carnage was the lagoon, sparking and strangely opaque under the midday sky. Beyond the sound of ocean spray was the whistling calls of dolphins.

"But why?"

The elder had no answer for the calf. Whales were a mystery, and best often left to their own.

Seeing no forthcoming reply, the youngster dove. Following the bay floor, he circled the lagoon from bar to bar, skimming the sand and sending the crabs scattering in a burst closer to the shore. He came to the slightly cooler water of the inlet, and stopped.

Her pod had come into the bay days ago, inexplicably. He felt their terror, and it made him fear. He slid slowly with the current, coming closer to the blackness beyond.

Out there, something moved.

A clumsy echo returned not a creature, but he had felt the change in the water’s rhythm.

A whistle high called to her from the bay, and he eased about to find one of the newly adults close behind him.

"Ecco, something moved," the calf cooed, and the young male paused beside him.

"You shouldn’t be out here; it could make the mothers worry."

"I’m not afraid of the mothers!" the youngster giggled at the thought of one who had passed into status being worried about the matriarchs… but slipped away anyhow, back towards the bay.

As he did, he felt the other’s echo, blank as his had been. He scarcely held onto the thought, so swiftly did his attention fly.

At the inlet, Ecco turned slowly towards the bay. From the corner of his eye, he did think something moved, but eyesight and water were an awkward combination, especially in this inky blackness, and calf songs were as reliable as gull gossip.

A few dolphins skimmed the water, occasionally leaping high beyond the water’s surface. On land, the reporter took a moment and a few frames of film to capture the images into photo.

She sidestepped, catching up with the oceanographer as he watched the display.

"Sir, do you have any insight into what would cause these creatures to beach themselves? Could there be something in the water… something of any danger to the public?" and other such questions of a pretentiously intelligent nature.

The man eventually looked down, for he was high of stature, once the woman paused, either for him to speak or for her to catch her breath. He sighed deeply, and the woman remained silent, certain she would get her answer.

"There is no known threat to the public, and we may never know the cause. The workings of these creatures’ minds are something of a mystery…."

"Will you be further investigating this matter for the state, or is the case closed?"

The rush of the waves, screaming of the gulls… the far off dolphin noise blended together in the dearth of reply. The man was sad, watching the ocean with a deep desire held only by those with long, ancient memories.

Now he felt aged, all alone in his right… and the astute reporter saw none of this, nor his desire to be left alone.

"Sir?"

"I will be investigating," he replied, finally, "But I shall be working on my own, with the help of the local fishermen."

Ecco peered above the waves, where eyesight was much better. He watched the dryside creatures as they examined the whales. Scavengers, probably, as opposed to the hunters that came into the water. Creatures obeying the rule of life.

He watched, he played, he did much to forget about the misgivings.

But in the back of his mind, he knew. Somehow, the lore of once before was imbedded in sea of his learning, deep below in the mud and bedrock that was his subconscious. That which now told him to stay where the water had shoals.

It was a shadowy knowledge, of the lurker in the deep.
 
 

As he passed, the small calf herd giggled, his name among the young ones’ few scarce words, causing Ecco to about and confront the nuisance.

"What?" he asked, circling the group, and amid their stifled laughter came the explanation.

"Thuis said you’re afraid of the mothers," a female answered bashfully. Not quite old enough to be considered mature, yet so close, being consigned with other calves was humiliating. She was still addressing an adult, despite his fears.

"So what if I am?" Ecco replied, swimming at a slight angle so as to keep her in sight. Until the last couple of months, she had been his playmate, "Haven’t you ever seen Suike take on one of the hungry ones?"

The sudden chittering awe that overcame the herd almost made him laugh. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be goaded by the youngsters into telling the story of Suike and the shark.

"Oh no, I know the routine, bud," if the retailer knew better, he might have done something. Instead, he simply watched as the woman continued to harass his patron. "You drop a line and try to make me think you don’t want me to follow it," of course, his patron seemed not the harassed kind, and calmly ignored her, "but you really just want something else, an… uh… like an interview, or something, before you’re willing to spill the dirt."

"This guy here, he probably knows the routine, too," the reporter tried to tie the young man behind the counter to her side, "You know, right? Fishing, and all?"

"I think you want the bait shop across the street, Miss."

"It’s fine," the older man smiled to the shop’s keeper, signing the form and taking his leave. The keeper thankfully noticed that the woman left as well.

Once they were alone in the town’s one narrow street, the oceanographer turned to face his harpy.

"You won’t be satisfied until you’ve uncovered whatever little conspiracy it is that you’re deluded mind has created, will you?"

"Who said anything about a conspiracy?" she asked, a false innocence revealed in posture only as her hawkish eyes continued their unabated search for the slightest thing to play on.

"What’s in the water, ‘doc’?" the words reflected those of the community. Unlike the community, she could not have cared past the story.

"Why don’t you go for a swim and find out?" Losing his patience, the man turned away, to face the sun setting. From the hill, he could see the last light sinking below the ocean.

"Oh? Maybe I will, seeing how you said it wasn’t dangerous."

"I said it wasn’t a threat to the public, not that it wasn’t dangerous."

Silence. The quaint town lit up under electricity and stars. Practiced eyes sought out the stars Sualocin, Venator, and Deneb Dulfim… and were drawn, almost heedless, to the distant sun that so long ago inspired terror.

It was in their interest to be forgotten. The old man closed his eyes… he could hear them, the child stealers, their harsh voice echoing the vast reaches of time….

"What is it?" For once, the impatient disruption was for the better.

"A nightmare."

This feeding, however, was interrupted by one frantic dolphin. The pod crowded around, some fortunate to be close as the matriarchs, and now even the Dyad, assessed the situation.

Ecco listened in as the poor creature, Sesuiikee, was urged to tell his news. His mate had gone missing, and, in a panic, that was all he could speak. As Suike comforted her son, the Dyad Rruai sent some of the more spirited adolescents to search for the missing dolphin, Ecco among them.

Eventually, his search took him to the end of the pier, to the metal whale that rested there and sang its odd metallic song. The humans were setting out to sea for the first time in days, and would make the great beast carry them.

The foreboding of yesterday came back to him in a rush. Swiftly, he made to warn the whale, and whistled songs of warning in vain as she sat and continued to allow the humans to come and go from her back. Hurt that she would not listen, he altered his warning to a more desperate pitch.

A few of the humans noticed him, and he shifted his pleas to them. If they would only allow the whale to remain safely in her harbor, away from the danger, and not risk her to the madness that had afflicted the others!

Discouraged, he only watched as they gestured to him, shook their heads or smiled, clearly not understanding him any more than he did them.

"Check out th’ ‘phin!" the fishermen took a few moments to watch the dolphin, but that was all before they continued to load the scientist’s equipment on board the Seastar.

The oceanographer took more notice, kneeling on the dock and reaching towards the water.

"I know, young one," he whispered as the dolphin cooed in unhappily, "If only I could do otherwise."

"Hey now," the man continued, noticing the faint white-on-gray pattern over the dolphin’s forehead, "I’ve never seen one like you… maybe you’re here for my luck, hmm?"

Engrossed with the dolphin, he didn’t notice his stalker as she let herself on board the fishing vessel.

Ecco trilled. The human couldn’t possibly have understood him, yet still felt ill at ease.

The dolphin dipped beneath the water. Beyond the pier was the tainted water, even darker today than it was the day before.

The thought struck him. What if Sesuiikee’s mate had wandered beyond?

Yet, it seemed intuitive no dolphin was lacked the wits to venture into whatever danger lie there… But what if she had been pulled?

Ecco found himself following the strange human. He coasted along beside the whale, keeping the male in view though determined to turn around at any moment after he had seen the beast off.

But he didn’t. He followed past the pier, into the drift beyond. Each moment he knew he should go back, yet somehow he could not bear to leave the poor whale or her humans alone. The cooler water met his underside as he skimmed the water, and as suddenly as he noticed, the world burst into the moment of another’s echo.

"‘Ey, doc! There’re two of ‘em now!"

The old man smiled from his post. Leaned against the railing, he had watched as a second dolphin trailed them from the bay. It was a sleek, milky creature, and it had no trouble closing the distance swiftly. Before long, both dolphins disappeared beneath the waves, and he only had sea to stare at. However, he knew that, unless his troubles were worse than he already feared, it was temporary at best. For mammals that lived beneath the waves were still mammals, and still needed the breath of life.

Ecco had squealed in surprise as Rruai came up on his flank. He knew the echo for that of a dolphin, but the Dyad himself…

"What are you doing this far, young one?"

"The iron whale-"

"Is none of our business," the older male finished, but his tone was not angry, as Ecco might have imagined, "Nor are those upon her."

Rruai slowed before Ecco, cutting the younger off and looking at him from one bright eye. Ecco stopped, easing up, out of the water to breathe.

"What if," Ecco stuttered, almost choking on the thought, "Could Lea be out here?"

The elder circled him, contemplating the question, "She could be."

"What if…"

"If she is," Rruai interrupted a second time, "Then we find her."

"Keep close to the whale, no matter what happens," he cautioned, breaching at an angle to be in line with the beast, "And be wary!"

The silver dolphin shot through the dark water. Ecco struggled to keep up; the Dyad had traveled many long years before settling with his pod, and had developed speed, strength, and grace that made many of the younger dolphins envious or awe filled.

Now, facing the looming darkness alongside one of his pod’s greatest, Ecco was too nervous to be envious or in awe.

"So, ‘doc,’ what do you suppose they’re talkin’ about?" the reporter asked, finally appearing and grinning broadly, "Surprised?"

"Not really," the oceanographer forewent such surprise – he had known for some time the woman was on board, and grieved noticing too late to keep her ashore, "Few of the men here wear floral perfume, I think, and if they do they would probably leave it home."

He ignored her scowl, and continued, "And I suppose that they’re talking of better things – fish, maybe, deep current," adventure, exploration, "and the vast wonders of the deep mere humans would never live to see…."

"Great," the woman said, possibly to the sea, "I’ve stranded myself in the middle of the ocean with a loon."

"Afraid of the water?" the old man sought, ignoring her mistake of their local. The shore was still in sight, after all.

"I can swim," she defended herself, although she had, as many people do, an innate fear of the ocean.

They stood in silence until the boat stopped, and her crew went about setting up equipment.

"Now, my dear," the scientist excused himself, "Since you refused to stay out of trouble on land, do me a pleasure and stay out of the way lest you do something we all regret."

"She stopped," Ecco trilled, inadvertently reminding Rruai of his presence. The elder eased into the air, seeming to hover momentarily, and flopped heavily back down.

"Stay near the whale," Rruai reminded, disappearing beyond sight into the deep below. Ecco trilled, circling the beast several times, swimming far enough away so that he could peek above the deck, and returning in a shiver moments later.

He felt alone, near the silver sheen of the whale. She was cold; he could feel from mere inches away. Already, Rruai had stayed below for too long, and it worried him. He was more fearful than any day in he had lived, and now considered swimming, as fast as possible, back to the shore.

A sound from below called to him, holding him, and then Rruai surfaced. The older dolphin paced, akin to the hungry ones, before easing about to face Ecco.

"Do you feel that, young one?"

The faint call… he had heard it before, near the inlet, and here it was stronger.

"Lea!" Ecco called, uncertain. He felt the pulse of echo, but it returned nothing. Nothing at all….

If there was a dolphin below them, it was so deep that the sonic pulse spread too far before reaching it.

"Keep it starboard! I don’t want to snag the dolphins," the oceanographer called as the hired hands prepared a heavy net. It was lowered into the ocean with a crash of water, and sunk swiftly from sight.

Minutes later, the line was as far as it could go, and the boat began to move again.

The reporter kept to one side, watching, and occasionally taking from her handbag a camera and snapping photographs. She did not say what needed be said, but it felt like the old man was looking for something specific.

"Ecco!" the cry was coherent now. It could not have been Lea, but it could not have been any other.

Rruai tensed, and once again reminded the youngster to stay by the whale. He dove, while Ecco once again followed the beast.

"Ecco!" it was so close, now, but it was nowhere. Nothing to echo or see, he circled, chirping softly to nothing.

"I’m here!"

Below the water, something glittered. He cooed and trilled, and circled, not long before taking a breath and diving.

A few lengths down, the water became thick, saturated to the point of no longer being water. He could still see the light – a shining point in the nothingness below – as it rose in the water, away from him, swimming like a stinger or a scared fish.

He followed it, his fear having fled in the face of his curiosity. On and on, until he heard Rruai calling out for him, and he suddenly realized how he needed to breathe.

But the water had become constricted. Feelers – so many, like those of the stingers’ – had twisted around him. Quickly panicking, Ecco writhed and squealed. The point of light jumped and wobbled with him, and cried out in return.
 
 

Ecco’s thrashing was not vain, for it soon attracted Rruai’s attention from beyond the plaited latticework. The elder Dyad understood more the workings of the world, and he knew of nets and other contrivances of human culture, even if he did not wholly understand their uses.

The humans of this area were friendly to his kind, unlike many he had encountered. In part, it was why his pod had settled here. Unfortunately, it was still apparent that these humans, like all others, were relatively stupid.

The dolphin breached, wide of the net and clicking in desperation. The sailors starboard looked to one another as the creature repeated the display, while one wisely sought out their legitimate passenger.

The oceanographer came forth, and the mariners parted for him. Overlooking the convenience, the man stood at the railing and watched attentively as the dolphin breached a third time. It dove, circling the net widely, and returned earnestly.

It took mere moments of intensive consideration to understand the connection. Once he had, the old man wasted no time.

"Stop!" he exclaimed, the sudden, boisterous voice starting those nearest and yet inspiring every last man to action, "Raise the net!"

Ecco had stopped struggling; it was too hard. His lungs burned and he barely registered where he was or what he was doing… all he knew was that he needed to breathe, yet dared not for some forgotten reason.

It was silly, he imagined, obviously it was important, but he couldn’t remember… so maybe, just maybe, he was mistaken.

In his delirium, he breathed deep. Refreshed, he began to thrash anew.

"Well, doc," the captain offered, "We can try ‘n free ‘im, nice ‘n slow like, or we can cut the net now and hope for the best."

"Cut it down," the oceanographer ordered, "Before he hurts himself."

He would have liked the chance to apologize, but, as it were, preferred the dolphin to be safe rather than kept in an endangering situation. The men hastened to the task, and the journalist stepped forward behind him to further capture the moment.

"Knock that off, would you?" he groused. She barely heeded his words enough to retort,

"So make me."

The woman flashed another photograph as the net was torn open. The dolphin fell, hitting the railing before falling heavy back into the ocean. Something else fell onto the deck, and she gave it immediate attention.

She wasn’t the only one. Soon enough, everyone on board was staring at the only other catch of the net. A perfectly symmetrical object rested on the deck. Resembling crystalline quartz, one could only guess it were a mineral…

"Easy, calfling, easy…" Rruai soothed, supporting the younger dolphin to the surface, "Far from pleasant, I know, but it could have been worse."

Much worse, the elder mused. Ecco only sputtered and choked, gulping the life-essence of the dryside.

They drifted with the current, resting from the ordeal. The waves barely moved the dolphins, returning them to where they began every oscillation. It would seem that nothing could move them, until they felt it… An intense, nightmarish presence that made all songs of pain and fear and horror seem infinitesimal in comparison.

"Ecco, swim for the bay," Rruai ordered. Ecco, still muddled from the net, merely chipped in reply.

The Dyad was not to be brushed off lightly, especially not at this time, "Swim, Now!"

On board the Searstar, a mystery was being unraveled by one. Alas, the same mystery only dredged up further questions from the rest.

Absorbed in thoughts of the horror that had been unleashed upon the world, the old man thought furiously. He had to think of a way to return the glyph to its resting place… but if it were too late…

Beside him, the woman crept closer for a better view of the crystal. Never one to miss a good opportunity, she raised her camera and set the focus. The oceanographer noticed, but his warning came to late,

"No!"

The flashbulb sang. For a moment it seemed nothing more would happen, until the glyph reflected the note in kind before twittering its own tune.

The high pitched scream was accompanied by a burst of light. Those nearby covered eyes or ears and many staggered back, the journalist included. She stumbled to the railing, blinking and rubbing the glare out of her eyes.

When her vision did return, she thought it must have been slow… the water was black, as though the boat had floated over an oil slick… but, no, the water was black, with a metallic sheen. That which rose from the depths resembled tentacles, a familiar horror of the depths taking form from the shapeless mass.

Perhaps she screamed. There was too much commotion to tell – the yelling, the crystal singing… the boat being torn apart. In the midst of the chaos, the journalist was unintelligibly appreciative of the old man by her side, fighting in vain to keep her on board the rapidly dwindling deck.

Ecco swam, every beat taking him farther from the horror. It was madness. Whether it were a break or a simple continuation, he slowed and stalled, turning to face it.

"Rruai…?" the call, broken by an echo, broken by the call… No dolphin reflected, not a thing but the whale and the clear waters.

But the young Ecco could see the ink in the water… the blackness that reached for him even now. In one immortal moment, he closed his eyes and charged it. He imagined getting closer and closer… and as he imagined he hit it, he swam free.

"We were a proud people once…

"Envision gleaming pearl spires above the water, marble pools and grottoes below… Imagine, swimming the perfectly temperate waters, carefree of the hungry ones and the stingers… Consider the vast amount of wealth available at your mere call….

"Playful… carefree… we saw everything, yet missed what glared at us jealously from above… we missed the signs in our legends, and the evidence of ages past, and we should have known better.

"Perhaps we saw so far ahead that we neglected that which lay so close before us.

"It came, and we paused to watch its beauty – to sing its glory… but we were mistaken.

"The storm rocked the oceans, and we might not have noticed until it were too late… but it struck Atlantis first… it struck our nursery pool, stealing whole generations… the most valuable thing in our lives, gone in a night.

"We saw what had been done, and we saw what we must do. The next time they came, we had prepared ourselves against them. But so, too, had they prepared for us. They struck from above, their light rending our once glorious city to a blackened chaos…

"And all the malice we had festered, all the hate for these invaders from above… it gathered against us, rising up in a form neither corporeal nor intangible, but a mix of both. It fed us our fear, and we escaped into the past, abandoning our future… and the future of others.

"We left matters in the deliverance of those living in the next era of darkness…"

Slow awareness crept in… cold concrete at her back, warm air on her cheek… water flowing in a steady rhythm over her fingers. An occasional spray of water coincided with the absence of something floating caught in the current against her fingers.

The woman opened her eyes to meet a rubbery, gray bottlenose. This was unusual, she knew, and her first instinct was to jump as far as she could in the opposing direction.

Which she did. With a yelp, no less.

Sitting on a broken pillar, staring at the pool, the old man turned his head towards her for a moment, mumbling,

"Oh, sorry… must have been thinking aloud."

Ecco lingered, cycling to the surface on every length of breath. He would have been resting, but he felt rested. Instead, he watched the humans with interest, for they were the most interesting in this place. And uncertainty loved familiarity.

Charging the Great Darkness may not have been the best strategy. Instead of hitting it, he had gone through it. After the feeling of sickness passed, and, needing his breath, he dared open his senses to the word, he had been in this pond.

Exploration was plagued by uncertainty. There were four unnaturally angular walls, hung with algae and seaweed. The floor, plumes of kelp floated diligently from parallel cracks in the stone. Colorful little fish swam here and there, docile despite the dolphin in their midst. A single passage left the pool – guarded by a point of light that pushed him back with the current. The echo was encouraging, but, with no way past, he lingered… near surface, contemplating this.

If only Rruai were here! he lamented, not knowing what happened to the elder Dyad, but certainly lonely and frightened on his own. The Dyad and the mothers had always known best, and now he had to do without….

His eyes and song had turned to the dryside. Of the chamber above, only its vaulted ceiling was visible to his echo… and the humans, he heard the singing – or what he presumed to be singing – of the one. The other, deathly silent, he brought himself beak to… well, what must have been the beak, but so… small and unattractive. No matter, he came, face to face, with this odd creature… truly, one of the closest encounters he had ever had with a human.

It stirred – apparently, this was the closest it had come to a dolphin – and leapt away fearfully.

That simply would not do.

With esteem in mind, Ecco crooned and dove beneath the waters with a prospect.

"Welcome to Atlantis."

Silence became metered by the drip-drip of some unplanned water measure and the slight swish of seaweed on the surface as their fellow, the dolphin, swam between the strands. The reporter, at length, laughed deridingly.

"Atlantis?" she scoffed, "You expect me to believe… that?"

"I do not expect you to believe anything," the oceanographer replied adamantly, "I merely offer fact."

The marvelous, surreal architecture style seemed to support his so-called fact, but it was difficult to be convinced. Atlantis was a myth. This was… well… Middle of the ocean. Underwater. Shipwreck. Her mind put together the circumstance, and it seemed almost plausible.

But, then, it seemed to fresh… so clean… almost new, or taken care of. It simply could not have been the sunken city of Plato’s mind.

There was no sign of the ship, when it came to mind. No flotsam floated to the calm, ethereal surface of the pool. There was only marble and water.

"Okay, so even if it is Atlantis," Which it is most certainly not, "What are we doing here? How do we get home?"

The old man, still seated, wrung his hands…. This being the only motion belying his uneasiness, he spoke calmly,

"I don’t know."

And in reply, causing the man to wince, his companion fairly shrieked,

"You don’t know?"

At that inopportune moment, a fish landed at her feet.

The gift was refused. With a flop, the broken fish returned to the water. Not one to waste, the dolphin snapped up the treat under the full impression that the human simply must not have been hungry.

The fish problem solved, the woman followed, seething, "How can you not know?"

"Well perhaps," the old man stalled with a patient hand whatever tirade she might have embarked upon, "I do know, and I simply have yet to figure it out."

The hand slowly pointed to the water, where a dolphin peeked roguish from the seaweed.

"I think he is our key..."

As slowly, the hand pointed towards a small pillar, as the woman had not noticed. Floating above its crest, a globule of… something, gave off a faint light.

"…That is our means…"

Drawing the hand to himself, the man pulled from his finger a ring – a small bit of glass or crystal, beautifully crafted but unnoticed. He stood, crossing the distance in two succinct steps.

"… And this is for you."

At her move to refuse, he insisted, "Consider it superstition if you will, but it will protect you."

Fearing the safety of such a dainty thing, she slipped it on her finger, self-consciously, and uttered an unadorned "Thanks."

"Now…" the reporter noticed at last how the gears were finally working. She questioned how well when he took her by the hand and led her to the pillar. She balked when her fingers were drawn just a little too close to the floating mass of gunk for her ease, and tried to pull away. While her hand stopped moving, the hold on her palm tightened slightly. There was no struggle, to protest to aid in getting away.

"You want to go home?" The old man’s eyes were not cold, but determined. A simple matter of elders know best.

Getting home, however, was currently farthest from the mind, in favor of mere survival, "What is that thing?"

"Our means," the man repeated, but furthered cryptically, "It is a gift... a prayer. Perhaps more – it is here for a reason, as are we. Perhaps it is here for us...

"And it is, quite likely, the only way out of here."

While not entirely convincing, it did seem relatively harmless... For the briefest of moments, or so it felt, the woman let her guard down. It was all it took – in that mere moment, this eccentric of a stranger had drawn her hand into the mass of light and distortion. As she touched it, time seemed to slow down as she felt her resolve break down, reason by rationale. This is insane!

But the damage – as she perceived it – was done. She jerked her hand back, but the... whatever it was, covered her fingertips and oozed of its own accord to cover her hand. Staring in fascination-laced terror, she never thought to scream as the stuff swept over her body. In no time, it seemed, she was covered by a thin layer of starlight.

As if this was not enough, her body changed. Imperceptible at first, but at length there was no such denial. No pain, but bones shifted and tissues altered. Clothes torn apart, to dissolve over the millennia it would take to reach the day of the future whence they came.

And in the end, she could see. Differently, but it was familiar. In the old man, he now a… a creature like and as herself, she saw a mirror of sorts. Fur, his silver contrasted with her dark browns; webbed toes and fingers – the ring was gone from her hand, save for a slight bulge under the skin between her fingers; a bulky tail; and the face… the grotesquely recognizable face that kept some semblance of human form…

And the voice a mere warble in the throat, but unmistakable.

"Quickly, now."

The creature that had been the old man disappeared beneath the waves, leaving the creature that had been the reporter little choice but to follow on her own...

Which took several moments as she skittered back and forth at the edge of the pool before finally taking the plunge.

"Atlantean." The otter-like creatures that ruled the oceans between the time of the human and the time of the firstcomers.

"They came to the sea on mysterious promises and fragile songs of hope. They came from the sea on broken spirit and heartache. You might feel it, when you look to the ocean – the longing for what once was and will never be again."

"Why are you telling me these things?"

"Who knows?" came the amused answer, "It might prove useful someday."

It sank in the water, almost like under a death thrall if not for how it thrashed. Gently, Ecco swam underneath and nudged it back up to the dryside, where it gasped for air. Sinking down, he waited until it floundered, then floated it up again.

Before long, it was able to support itself in the water, though clumsily. More, it had started to sing.

What she had wanted to say was, "Now what, Doctor Know-All?"

What came out was a strange abrasive sound from deep in her new throat. Frustrated, she tried to shout an obscenity, but it only came out as a dry clicking. Frustrated, the human-girl-turned-tabloid-sea-monster screamed, sinking below the water in the effort.

"Relax," the old man said. Although the sound he made was more of a deep-in-the-throat squeal, she understood it as Relax, and was even more perplexed; she couldn’t even understand her own voice.

The dolphin nudged her up again, and she seethed. Not only was this bizarre beyond comparison, she wouldn’t even be able to publish the story when ... if, she got home. No one would believe her if she tried, and it would thoroughly ruin her credibility.

And that brought to mind the if that considered she would live the remainder of her life as a human, rather than a slick, slippery, furred fish-man.

"Long ago, the people of Atlantis prayed to a being they believed was the progenitor of life. While throughout their study it never responded to them, they discovered it seemed to influence future events."

"One of the answers to their prayers was the ability to become another form of life... They called the catalyst Metasphere, and used it to walk among humans and swim with the cetaceans, that the sentient life of Earth might come together in peace and prosperity."

"How…?"

"I will answer questions to your heart’s content once we’re in a safer place. First, I need you to talk to the dolphin there for me."

"You’re joking…"

Ecco listened with interest. The songs sounded like a variant of dolphin, but garbled beyond recognition.

They are, he lamented, only drylanders.

The dolphin stopped listening, and tried mimicking the new sounds. Finding them unpronounceable in his voice, he measured the closest he could. He thought for a moment, taking a breath and sinking to ponder. He listened again, mentally overlapping his sound to the unfamiliar. It compensated for the difference better than he expected, and he was surprised to hear true expression in the song. He couldn’t understand every little nuance, but he understood a little, and that fascinated him.

He discovered the one was addressing him, and listened a bit closer as it twittered. It was an excitable thing, garbling its sounds as it went on about things he failed to understand.

"Maybe if you sang a little slower," Ecco suggested, helping the thing up to get another frustrated gasp of air.
 

"Listen," he heard, "KeySong." "Single ... out."

It repeated a series of trills that were unfamiliar to him... and again.

"It’s not working!"

Her squeal broke the stale air above. She clung to the dolphin as he held her aloft, and panted in frustration. If it had been in her heart to be thankful for the air she always took for granted, it was buried deep under the anger and loathing of the dolphin; the other tabloid sea monster; and her own mind, which was taking it all quite well without asking her. She did not think that she could afford a psychotic break right now, but failed to realize that it was probably the best thing to happen given everything else that already had. When she got her head back underwater, she found that the whining and clicking noises were actually chatter.

The old man – or old sea creature – went on about how she had to get the dolphin to understand, never she mind if she actually understood or not, and that it was imperative if they were to ever get out of this particular pool. He said as much in a grandfatherly way that she was beginning to despise.

...And to complicate matters, the dolphin was introducing himself. Which, she thought, she should have expected.

"No, no, listen," the little thing repeated its name, and Ecco repeated after.

The other drylander sang, the one that did not seem able to understand him and whose name the first had simply relayed as click. Click seemed patiently impatient about something, but Ecco could not understand his twitterings nearly as well as the first.

"R’ruee," he rolled the sound, and pushed it up for air.

"Yes, look, forget it, it doesn’t matter!" it squealed, "There’s a passage underwater and a guardian and you need to-" it trilled an unfamiliar series of nonsense, and was up for air again.

He thought about it, and there was a passage underwater. He did not know about the rest, but the first...? "Yes."

"...what?"

"How long can you hold your breath?"

"I don’t know," R’ruee replied, tentative, "Not long." As if it suddenly occurred to her, she floundered and sank, squealing, "I can’t swim!"

"Maybe you should try it, rather than thrashing about like that," the oceanographer insisted.

"Yeah? And you know how long I can hold my breath, too, I bet!"

"I’ve been down here," he further pointed out, "since you started trying to pronounce your name with a sonic pulse."

Ecco wondered, as he listened, why the silver creature did not see fit to speak to him directly. If one could, why not both?

He pondered over whether it would have something to do with status, but his favored guess was that, somehow, Click did not understand him the way R’ruee did. Then he wondered why.

"There is a passageway," the young one relayed, "We have to go down it, and we need your help to get us out of here."

Fair, the dolphin thought.

"Breath deep and hold on," he said, "There’s a strong current."

With a surface for his breath, Ecco dove deep. R’ruee was clinging to his dorsal fin, which was slightly hindering to his grace, though not to his speed. Click trailed behind, the more experienced of the two, or so it seemed; it swam in the dolphin’s wake.

The light was still there, and he fought to remain as the pressure pushed him back. The two drylanders twittered, one after the other... the repeating pattern, and again and again. The light bobbed and twinkled and kept them from going further.

The riddle tickled his mind, swelling to a most coherent thought. In a burst of insight, he understood, and followed the pattern with his own voice.

The light shattered.

Beyond, the current struck and changed, whirling about chaotically. Ecco was drawn along passages of stone, and went trustingly but without much choice. The stream slowed to the softness of the restless ocean, and the dolphin paused for thought. His echo relayed more angles of stone, and the water’s surface... and kin, perhaps, of his drylander acquaintances in the distance.

The woman-turned-monster scrambled over the dolphin’s nose for a gasp of air, and floundered when he disappeared beneath her. She did not have the freedom to be annoyed as her companion floated on his back, otter-like, under the dim light of the sky some distance above. Instead, she fought to maintain her buoyancy.

"You should try to practice. No telling how long we’ll be like this," the old man clicked and surfaced to relax for another moment.

She sank, squealing irritable nothings. All around were open passages and stone, and the dying light above. She managed to surface on her own merit, for a meager gulp of air that went less into her lungs and more into her belly. She sank again, and, seeing motion, scrambled about in fear of being left behind.

But what was there, in the pristine waterways of Atlantis...

It was like her, as she was now... but it swam blindly, fur smeared in inky blackness that oozed off as it moved. Its eyes were shut, dark tears trailed its face, and its mouth hung limply open. It stopped, floating where it was, and convulsed.

She cried out – for it, for help, perhaps, for horror – and its eyes opened, dark and dead. It rushed at her as she bobbed, helpless in the water.