Not possible…it wasn’t a wave, but a wall of water peaked in the center in an inverted V. The peak aimed right for him. What had Wayne gotten him into?
He tried paddling backward. There was no way he’d make it up and over that mountain. It was going to own him. It was going to pick him up like a cork and throw him clear out of the park. He’d probably splat on the windshield of his mother’s car like a moth caught on the highway. Here, Mrs. Whitman, say hi to your son.…
The towering peak of surging spray and foam came at him as if rocket-boosted.
At that moment, when all hope seemed lost, when the peak of the wave loomed overhead, bending and licking its hungry tongue at Finn, the spikes of white foam split apart and seemed to become stationary points of what looked like a fountain. Water cascaded from the spikes of the fountain, revealing huge clumps of seaweed.
Finn back-paddled away from the thing. It wasn’t seaweed. That had been an optimistic assessment. Because it was…hair. Yards of it in massive tangles—looking like dripping vines covering an enormous stone statue. But it wasn’t stone. It was flesh. Gray flesh. Craggy, disgusting flesh chiseled into the shape of a man’s eyes, nose, and then consumed by a beard. The water poured off as the head seemed to rise from the water, followed by shoulders covered with a cape, then a massive chest and arms. The giant held a staff in his right hand, and it was only by recognizing its three golden tines pointed like arrows that Finn knew who this was. The staff was a trident, and it belonged to King Triton.
“You’re kidding me,” he muttered as he fought to turn the surfboard around to get out of this pool.
“Name yourself!” The voice was a low rumble nearly indistinguishable from the distant gurgle of water as the wave generator refilled behind the giant.
There was no escaping. Finn reversed the board and faced Triton. Why hadn’t Wayne warned him?
“Finn,” he muttered.
“Louder!”
He shouted his name.
“Full name!”
“Lawrence Finnegan Whitman.”
“State your purpose.”
“Ah…a friend sent me.” But Finn was now wondering why.
“Indeed. A friend to us all.”
King Triton knew Wayne?
“He is the keeper of the magic,” Triton said.
If you say so, Finn was thinking, but didn’t say. “Indeed!” He tried sticking to the king’s vocabulary. He wasn’t sure about the etiquette of speaking with royalty. He didn’t want to insult a guy this big.
The pool water continued to drip off the giant, but the wave pool was settling down to a violent chop as waves rebounded off the walls and spread out onto the beach area, sloshing ashore and lifting furniture into a junk pile.
“He seeks protection for you, our friend does,” said Triton.
“Ah…” Finn wasn’t sure what the king was talking about. “Protection?”
“Your voyage in my kingdom.”
Triton ruled the sea. A voyage…? The cruise! “Yes, sir.”
“Like me, the creatures in my kingdom are bigger than those in yours. Our domain is vast. Unchangeable, horizon to horizon. There is much to protect. Your people poison mine. They hunt with invisible line and nets that stretch for miles. With harpoons. Oil rigs. They make war above and below. They stretch my resources.”
That last part didn’t sound terribly kinglike. He wondered if kings read newspapers. He supposed a king did whatever a king wanted to do, though he couldn’t be certain.
“What is it you want?” Finn said.
When a giant laughed, it turned out, the ground shook—or, in this case, the pool sloshed.
“I am king. And I am old. My wants are few. You, on the other hand, Mr. Lawrence Finnegan Whitman, your needs and wants are many. You should know my agents will never be far from you and your crew. As the wise one has requested.”
“When we’re on the ship.”
“When you are anywhere within or upon my kingdom, I or my agents shall never be far away.”
“Thank you.”
“The porpoise and frigate birds will monitor your progress. When the flying fish are near, I am not far away. The code is simple: ‘Starfish wise, starfish cries.’”
“The code…” Finn said, having little idea what he meant.
“To summon my assistance. Starfish are never far away. They are the fastest way to reach me.”
“Seriously?” It just slipped out.
“You are only to summon me if it is serious. That goes without saying. But it must be spoken into water. The summons spoken in air is of no use.”
“What about the frigate birds?” Finn said. “Can’t they hear us, too?”