Playing Koi End (25) (Patreon)

Jemma was... somewhere else, doing something else.

For a few seconds she couldn't even think on where she might be or why—she just kept at it, until what she felt again aligned with her vision and body.

She was standing, not swimming. 

Jemma wiggled her toes. She stretched, feeling the delightful ache of muscles long unused. She hadn't realized how much she missed the feeling of air on her skin.

She spun in a circle, taking in the familiar sights and smells of the overcrowded food court. It was just as she remembered it: bright, bustling, and a little overwhelming. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she leaned against a plastic kiosk to steady herself.  

Careful, she thought to herself. Don't want to overdo it.

She glanced down, searching for the weight tugging on her hands. She was holding a plastic shopping bag.  Jemma peered inside and found a heavy binder waiting for her. Despite its size, it was bound with treated seaweed, with the strange vellum of the underwater world. It was all there, the colors still vivid despite being removed from the water.  Nerissa must have enlarged it for her on their way out.  

Jemma’s gaze swept across the mall, searching for a flash of familiar red among the food court. There! Standing by a tank of bright goldfish, which swam energetically around her as she approached. Even from this distance, Jemma could see the awkward way Kisten was trying to hold several overstuffed shopping bags.

Kisten was wiry and thin, wearing her usual swimsuit under a pair of elastic shorts, and a sleeveless top with more holes than fabric. She didn't look old enough to need so many heavy textbooks, and clearly couldn't carry them all on her own.

Jemma hurried over, her heart pounding in her chest. 

Kisten saw her and a relieved smile spread across her face. She bent down, her movements a little clumsy, and kissed Jemma. 

For the first time in a long time, Kisten felt like her Kisten, not the traumatized, half-mad goldfish she had pulled from Thetria. She was nervous, eager, and warm. She didn't linger too long, not in public. Besides, there was something more interesting happening right in front of them.

Kisten let go and pointed at the tank she'd been inspecting. As she did, her arm finally gave way, lowering the heavy plastic bag to the ground. She grunted, massaging the thin arm, but of course made no sound in the process.

Jemma followed Kisten’s gaze. She’d been so caught up in seeing Kisten again, in being back in the human world, that she hadn’t even noticed the aquarium until now. It was a smaller one, just a single tank, tucked away in the corner of the food court.

The Gold Quarter, she realized. 

Six months ago, it had been little more than an empty tank with a few scraggly plants. Now the refugee goldfish had somewhere to live, a thriving academy to educate them, and a future among the fish of Algaegard. 

Jemma spotted the academy in the far corner, a sturdy structure built from smooth stones and colorful bits of coral. A group of young goldfish were gathered there, their tiny bodies zipping up and down an athletic field near the academy's central courtyard. What took Jemma almost ten seconds to swim across at full speed she could now cross in a single step. 

She smiled, remembering the hours she'd spent designing the curriculum. Those goldfish wouldn't have her help anymore, but they were still in good hands.

Her gaze drifted towards the bottom of the tank, where a cement dome with a single plastic window marked Kisten's workshop. That was where the artifact charged even now, waiting to fire. All that remained was getting rid of them.

"We could go back," Jemma said, voice low. She gestured at the lid of the aquarium, and a piece of loose plastic facing. "Just have to touch the water, right? Then we're inside."

Kisten shook her head, expression sour. She wore too much to speak, but Jemma could read her even so. There was indignance there, as though demanding why they would work so hard to escape, only to give up their freedom.

A flash of blue and white caught Jemma’s eye, and she looked down.

A single fish was swimming towards the glass, through the open workshop door. She moved with a sense of purpose, her tail whipping rapidly back and forth. As she drew closer, Jemma felt a lump rise in her throat. 

Melody.

Even with the thick glass separating them, Jemma recognized her daughter instantly. Her short, wild hair, the dirty glasses on her face, and the worn wood of her enchanted mechanical arm.

Jemma touched her finger to the glass and covered the fish almost completely. She'd been that size herself, only moments before. It still didn't feel real.

Melody poked around her finger, gesturing at something. Her mouth moved, but Jemma couldn't make out the words. There were so many other people in the food court, sharing their unhealthy meals in total ignorance of the underwater world just beside them.

Jemma saw the light building near the tank, radiating out from that tiny plastic window. She looked away, shielding her face from what was happening inside. She recognized it instantly of course; this was the Worldgate spell, the same one that Kisten had been creating for a month.

She squinted against the blinding glare. Around her, the food court erupted into chaos. People screamed and panicked. Some jumped under tables, others dropped their trays, a few just turned to run. But there was nowhere to run—elsewhere in the mall, the same light radiated, blasting through the open doorway. Anywhere the supernatural aquarium reached, light followed.

As dramatic as it came, the illumination began to fade. First it left a glow, then—strange silence. Jemma looked back, ignoring the panicked and fleeing people. She already knew what she would find, but she still had to see for herself. Jemma looked in at the Gold Quarter, as Kisten did the same.

There was nothing to see; the tank was empty.

The water was gone, and so was everything else. The buildings of Algaegard, the academy, even the gravel on the bottom of the tank had vanished. And Melody...

Jemma pressed her hand against the glass, searching desperately for any sign of her daughter. But no, of course the Worldgate spell hadn't left her behind.

Around her, the confusion and panic only grew. People were pointing at the tanks, yelling and gesturing wildly. Someone started yelling about the police, and several other visitors had their phones out and pointing at the tanks.

You never noticed when we were living in there. 

A few seconds later, the fire alarm started blaring. Emergency lights flashed, and a flat, electronic voice began to echo over the chaos. "Please remain calm. Follow the illuminated signs towards the nearest exit. Please remain calm…"

"All of them?" Jemma glanced to the side, scanning the nearby tanks. Kisten frowned, opening her mouth—but of course no sound came out. She bent down, groaning again as she lifted one of the totes towards Jemma. 

She took it. "Fine. So long as you don't get any bright ideas about magic, I'll help."

That was the wrong thing to say. Kisten's frown turned excited. One hand twitched towards the other arm, and the dense tattoos vivid under the skin. 

No matter how much she knew, she still had to touch it to cast anything, right? Jemma caught her wrist, holding on tight. "Wait! Careful, Kisty. You don't know how much power you have. Maybe this isn't the place to find out."

She tugged on Jemma, then shrugged her shoulders, and lowered her hand. A bit like someone holstering a gun.

At least no one would get exploded right now. Small blessings.

Jemma kept her head down as they followed the flow of the crowd, her eyes glued to the empty tanks.

They passed another, this one near the cinnamon roll shop. Jemma remembered when it had been a vibrant field of seaweed, teeming with the crops that helped sustain them. Now it was just a box, the glass stained with algae.

All gone, she thought. They'd gone to a better world, a distant ocean ready to populate. Jemma and Kisten wouldn't be going with them.

They reached the central tank, a towering cylinder that had once been the heart of Algaegard. Jemma stopped, staring up at the empty space where colorful fish had once darted among miniature skyscrapers.

There was nothing left.

"Did it really… all at once?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Kisten didn't answer. She just frowned and pointed at her mouth; her expression impatient.

Jemma nodded. She reached into her pocket, past the phone and keys that had been there the day she entered all those years ago.

She pulled out a pen, offering it to Kisten. She always carried one of these, thanks to her girlfriend. She needed a way to express herself sometimes, or she would get impatient. 

Kisten grabbed Jemma's wrist, pulling her hand closer.

Jemma tensed, but Kisten ignored her, already writing.

"No predators," Kisten wrote on Jemma's skin, the ink cool and ticklish. “Stay."

Jemma stared at the words, her stomach twisting into knots. "You mean… without water?"

Kisten nodded, a smug look on her face.

Around them, the crowd continued to stream toward the exits. People bumped into Jemma, some sparing her an annoyed glance, but most were too caught up in their own panic to notice. She grabbed Kisten’s arm, holding tight.

“That’s… pretty dark, Kisty,” Jemma said. Part of her wanted to yell, to demand to know how she could do something so cruel. But another part of her understood.

Jemma thought about all the fish she’d known, all the friends she’d lost. Liam. Ryan. Dozens and dozens of others.

"You did the right thing," she finally said. "Their new home will be better off without them."

Leaving the safety of the food court and the boundaries of where Algaegard had once stood, Jemma now saw exactly what Kisten meant. Not all these tanks were as empty as the ones they'd left behind. A handful had fish, flopping or struggling against the glass. Some were already dead—the rest would be soon.

They walked together in silence, through the sound of blaring sirens and the panicked crowd.

"What happens when people…" She trailed off. "Right, sorry. We can talk at home."

Even knowing these fish were killers, Jemma still looked away from the tank. She would take no pleasure from this. 

Except once. Near the exit door, so close to the parking lot she could already see the police lights, Jemma saw one fish struggling and flopping along a large, glass tank. He was easily the largest koi she'd ever seen, almost as long as from her shoulder to her fingertips. He was old too, wrinkled and discolored.

Jemma knew his face even so. She walked over to the glass, squinting through it. She had to be sure.

"You could've gone with them," she whispered, right up against the glass. "All you had to do was not be a monster. You'll never even see their new home."

She glowered down at the fish. People had to move around her, obviously annoyed. But thanks to the blaring siren, they wouldn't hear what she said. Maybe the fish didn't either.

Kisten peeked over her shoulder, scribbling onto the tank surface with the marker. "Who?"

"Goro," Jemma whispered. Sure enough, the fish jerked upright, propping up on his elbows to try and look at her. Those eyes weren't designed to work in air, so he wouldn't have a very good view. She didn't care. "I would've shot you myself if I could. I don't know if there's a fish hell, but I hope you go there."

She watched for another few seconds, until the koi collapsed lifelessly against the glass.

Finally, she turned. She wanted to smile, but it just didn't come. Her humor didn't reach her lips. "Thanks, Kisty. Been waiting a long, long time for that."

She picked up the other bag filled with books, turning away from the tank. "Here's to the high and dry, huh?"

Kisten nodded eagerly, scampering ahead of her. She smacked up against the glass, then held it open. Outside was brilliant sunshine, blinding compared to a lifetime squinting up at aquarium lights.

Jemma stopped as soon as she was out of the flow of traffic, feeling the warmth against her skin.

They were free. 

Together.

At least until Kisten got into trouble again.