The Stone of Kuromori

The kijimunaa clambered to his feet and bowed to Kenny. ‘Me Tomba,’ he said, smacking his chest and gesturing for the others to bow too, which they did, their long hair fanning out on the ground.

‘You guys can stop that now,’ Kenny said. ‘I get it. You’re sorry. It’s all a big misunderstanding, right?’

‘Oh, yes. Big mistake,’ Tomba agreed. He pointed at the blade in Kenny’s hand. ‘Me know this sword. Who are ye, big fella?’

‘Kenny. Uh, Kuromori.’

‘Ahhhhh,’ the kijimunaa all said together, bobbing their heads as if this explained everything.

‘Ye’re the one bring back the sun, yes?’ Tomba said.

‘Something like that,’ Kenny said. He shrugged and the sword shimmered in his hand, melting away to nothing.

‘So, why ye bring oni-girly to island?’

‘Will you stop calling me that?’ Kiyomi said, hands on hips.

‘We’re here to find a missing object,’ Kenny said. ‘Maybe you can help.’

The kijimunaa drew closer, their long ears twitching. ‘Ye seek treasure?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Maybe. I don’t know,’ Kenny replied.

‘Ye should stay well clear of the drowned city,’ Tomba said.

‘So, it’s true? There really is a city out there, under the water?’

‘Very bad place,’ Tomba said, shaking his head in warning. ‘Great danger. Kuromori not go there.’

‘Sorry, I have to,’ Kenny said. ‘Otherwise, oni-girl’s going to –’

‘Hey!’ Kiyomi interrupted. ‘I said don’t call me that.’

‘Sorry,’ everyone else said.

‘Going to what?’ Tomba prompted, his nose twitching with curiosity.

‘Slowly go insane as this oni spirit inside of me takes control and turns me into a mindless killing machine,’ Kiyomi said, her voice flat.

‘Which, you’ll probably agree, is a bit of a bummer,’ Kenny said.

‘Ah, me know,’ Tomba said, brightening. ‘We’s kill ye now and fix problem. Yes?’

‘Actually, we’re hoping to find a cure,’ Kenny said. ‘Down in that underwater city.’

‘Ohhh,’ Tomba said, stroking his chin. ‘Me know who ye’s looking for.’

‘You do? Who?’

Tomba’s wide eyes searched the tall grass all around, as if fearful of someone watching. ‘Will not say, but me’ll warn ye. Don’t trust him one bit. He will trick ye if he can.’

PHEEEP! One of the spear-carrying kijimunaa let out a short sharp whistle and the group scattered like rabbits, vanishing into the long grass. Kenny cast an uneasy look around, wondering what had startled them, only to see his father approaching.

‘There you are,’ Charles said. ‘I thought you’d be further up the hill by now. Come on, slowcoaches, we can still make it to the monument in time for the sunset. You might even see Taiwan.’ He stopped to examine something silvery by his foot. ‘What’s a fish doing up here?’

At 05:30 the next morning, Charles, Kiyomi and Kenny crept out of the minshuku and trotted downhill, following the coastal road north towards the harbour. Overhead, the starry veil of the Milky Way laced the glittering sky.

Whispering waves washed the beach and the full moon dusted the horizon with silver while it slipped into the sea. Beautiful as it was, Kenny was secretly glad the moon was setting. After recent events, he was grateful for moonless nights.

Leading the way, Charles scrambled down a bank, across a small car park and on to a concrete jetty.

‘Here we are,’ he said, approaching a small diving boat with a covered cabin. A stocky Japanese man with a leathery tan and closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair was strapping a dozen steel air tanks into position.

‘Kids, this is Captain Mike,’ Charles said, climbing aboard.

‘Yo, dude! Wait up!’ barked a voice from the quay.

‘Oh, great,’ Kenny grumbled, seeing Matt and Dwayne sprinting towards the boat. ‘I thought we’d ditched these guys.’

‘They must have been sleeping outside,’ Charles said, ‘to make sure they caught us.’

‘You guys heading out?’ Dwayne asked, his breathing normal despite sprinting a hundred metres with a heavy backpack.

‘Yes, we are,’ Charles answered.

‘Mind if we hitch a ride? It’d sure be nice to get a last couple of dives in before we head back to base.’

Charles removed his glasses for a quick wipe. ‘Well, we’re on a very relaxed schedule here. It might not work out if you chaps need to catch a flight back.’

‘No problem,’ Matt said. ‘If that’s the case, we’ll just swim back to shore.’

‘With all your gear?’ Charles looked doubtful.

‘Sure. Besides, your boy’s never been scuba-diving before. Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t be anywhere near open water.’

‘I’ll manage,’ Kenny said, his jaw jutting.

Matt grinned. ‘I’m sure you will, kid, but that’s not what the rules say. It’d be a shame if someone blabbed and the captain here lost his licence over something as silly as that. What say Dwayne and I come along? That way, you’ve got two expert buddy divers in case anything goes wrong.’

‘Three expert divers,’ Kiyomi added with a wink. Kenny scowled at her.

‘OK,’ Charles said, after chewing it over. ‘You can come with us.’

Captain Mike opened up the throttle and the small boat set off, kicking up foam in its wake as it headed west to circumnavigate Cape Irizaki.

‘We’ve got about fifty minutes to kit you out,’ Kiyomi said to Kenny. ‘Come here and I’ll measure you up.’

Kiyomi went through the equipment box, finding Kenny a face mask to cover his eyes and nose, a neoprene wetsuit, buoyancy regulator and flippers.

‘Normally, you’d get some classroom study, a dip in a shallow pool to get used to all the gear and then an accompanied dive in open water,’ Kiyomi said, adjusting the straps on the mask. ‘In this case, we’re just going to have to fast-track you.’

‘You know I don’t need all this stuff,’ Kenny smirked. He lowered his voice. ‘After all, I can breathe underwater.’

‘Don’t get cocky,’ Kiyomi warned. ‘That was a pond and a water tank. This is the open sea and we’re going down to about thirty metres. You’ve got currents, sharks, coral, limited visibility . . . Here, try this.’ She held out the mouthpiece of the breathing regulator; the other end was attached to a steel tank. ‘It’s compressed air. Put the rubber flange inside your mouth and breathe through your mouth only. Breathe in and out steadily until you get used to it.’

Kenny did as he was told and felt the dry air push into his lungs. He forced the breath out and inhaled again. It was a weird sensation and it made his throat burn, but with Kiyomi counting time on her fingers, he soon relaxed into a regular pattern.

At Kiyomi’s signal, he pulled out the mouthpiece and worked his tongue round his teeth. ‘Urgh. I sound like Darth Vader with that thing.’

Kiyomi nodded. ‘OK, that’s a good start. Remember, when you’re in the water, always breathe like that, slow and steady. Don’t hold your breath, ever, and if your ears start to fill up, or hurt, you need to pop them like this.’ She pinched her nose, closed her mouth and pushed air out. ‘You can also swallow, waggle your jaw, whatever works.’

‘Like going up in an aeroplane?’

‘Same principle, only you’re going down where there’s greater pressure.’

It was daunting, having so much to remember, but Kenny wasn’t going to let on. ‘What else?’

For the next twenty minutes, Kiyomi walked Kenny through the basics of scuba-diving: hand signals, use of the buoyancy control device, how to clear the mask of water, one-handed weight belt release, where to find the backup air supply.

‘It all looks so easy on TV,’ Kenny grumbled.

‘Do you two know what you’re looking for?’ Charles asked, coming over to the rear of the deck. He aimed a finger downwards.

‘No.’ Kiyomi shook her head. ‘But Susano-wo wasn’t being subtle. The stone is down there somewhere. Who knows? Maybe it’ll find us.’

Dawn painted the sky with pastel fingers of lemon, rose and lavender by the time Captain Mike powered down the engine and chugged to a stop.

‘This is us,’ Kiyomi said, looking north over the gentle waves towards the soaring cliffs of Yonaguni island.

Kenny lay on his back, grunting and wriggling to pull on his wetsuit. He had both legs in, but despite all his stretching and squeezing, he was struggling to pull it up past his waist. ‘This . . . thing . . . is impossible,’ he complained.

‘Let me help,’ Kiyomi said.

‘No, I can do this,’ a red-faced Kenny declared.

Five minutes later, he stopped to catch his breath, one loose sleeve flapping behind like an elephant’s trunk.

‘Shoulda let the girl help,’ Dwayne said, resting his foot on the gunwale. He was kitted out with all his diving gear, unlike Matt who was still in shorts.

‘Oh, wait,’ Matt said, from beside him. ‘He’s trying to impress her.’ He laughed. ‘Real smooth, dude.’ He began to unzip his long holdall.

Kiyomi glared at them both, reached over and, with one firm tug, snapped the wetsuit up to Kenny’s neck.

‘Ow.’ He squirmed. ‘You’ve given me an almighty wedgie.’

‘Here.’ Kiyomi helped him pull the scuba-tank harness on over the buoyancy jacket and then fitted on the weight belt.

‘This stuff weighs a ton,’ Kenny said, holding on to the railing for support.

Kiyomi slipped into her harness, positioned the breathing regulator and checked the instrument panel.

‘What’s the plan?’ Dwayne said. ‘Are you kids just going for a swim round the ruins or is there anything else you want to do?’

‘Just a dive,’ Kiyomi said, reaching for a knife to strap on to her leg.

‘Nuh-uh,’ Matt said, with an unmistakable tone of menace. ‘No knives down there. You might get hurt.’

‘What?’ Kiyomi rounded on him. ‘Every diver carries a knife, in case they get tangled –’ She broke off as she saw the speargun in his hand aimed directly at her chest.

‘But not you. Hand over the knife, real slow, and nobody gets hurt,’ he ordered.

‘No move!’

Kiyomi looked up to see Captain Mike pointing a flare gun at Matt.

‘My boat,’ he barked. ‘I boss.’

‘Not any more,’ Dwayne said, pulling out a heavy knife and brandishing the tip in the captain’s direction.

‘Kenny, don’t do anything stupid!’ Kiyomi warned.

‘As if,’ Kenny said, his body straining under the weight of the dive equipment.

Charles rounded on Matt. ‘What’s going on? If this is a hijack, we have nothing of value. I let you have a lift as a favour and –’

‘Cool it, Gramps!’ Matt yelled back. ‘Or should I say “Professor”?’

Charles flinched. ‘How do you –?’

‘Oh, please. Just cos I pump iron doesn’t mean I’m stupid. There aren’t that many gaijin in Japan. First thing I did was check the hotel register to find your name. A quick Google search and I knew exactly who you were.’

‘A history professor coming all the way down here to check out the ruins only means one thing,’ Dwayne chimed in. ‘Treasure.’

‘Oh, don’t be absurd,’ Charles started.

‘Then why did we hear you talking about a jewel on the bottom of the sea, huh?’ Matt challenged.

Charles raised his hands in a calming gesture. ‘Kiyomi, put your knife on the deck and kick it over to Dwayne. Matt, take your finger off the trigger. We don’t want any accidents, do we?’

Kiyomi glowered at Matt. ‘You’re lucky,’ she said. ‘This time last month, I’d have been mad enough to see how good you are with that thing.’ She stooped and sent the sheathed knife skittering across the planks. Dwayne stopped it with his foot.

Matt lowered the speargun. ‘You’d be dead then. I never miss.’

Captain Mike swore in Japanese and put the flare gun back in its case.

‘Here’s how it’s gonna be,’ Dwayne said. ‘Me and the kids are going for a swim. They’re going to show me where this treasure is and in return I’ll make sure they get back up here safely.’

‘And I’m going to stay on deck with Britney here’ – Matt patted the speargun – ‘to make sure no one tries anything cute.’

‘But what if there’s no treasure?’ Kenny asked, sweat plastering his hair to his head.

‘Let’s just say we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’

‘I told you we couldn’t trust those meatheads,’ Kenny griped while Kiyomi gave his equipment a final check.

‘Really? You think now is a good time for I told you so?’ she fumed. ‘Put your regulator in and start breathing.’ Kenny pulled down his mask and waddled to the edge of the dive platform. ‘Here’s where normally you take a big stride into the water, but in this case . . . Eyes on the horizon!’ Kiyomi planted a foot firmly against Kenny’s backside and pushed.

‘AAAAGH!’ Kenny grabbed his mask and regulator to hold them in place before plunging into the sapphire sea amid a cloud of white bubbles. Water flooded into his mask and he kicked upwards, thrashing to the surface before he remembered he could breathe.

Kiyomi splashed down beside him, rose and gave a thumbs-up signal in the direction of the boat. Captain Mike waved in acknowledgement and raised a red flag with a diagonal white stripe to signal to other vessels that divers were down.

Dwayne jumped in and bobbed alongside, while Kiyomi showed Kenny how to clear his mask by blowing air into it. She adjusted the air in his buoyancy jacket until he barely floated, and then gave the thumbs-down sign to descend.

Taking Kenny’s hand, Kiyomi released some air from her own jacket and then lowered her head to swim downwards. Kenny copied her movements and the divers kicked gently through the clear water.

Kenny forced himself to relax. It took all of his effort not to sweep his arms and kick his legs as he would for normal swimming. Here, he was weightless, gliding beneath the tropical sea. The only sound was the hypnotic rhythm of his breathing. Shafts of sunlight lanced down from above, illuminating sparkling shoals of fish. A huge leatherback sea turtle laboured upwards, close enough for Kenny to see the barnacles growing on its shell, and a glittering curtain of glassfish exploded into mirror-like fragments as the divers approached, re-forming after they had passed.

As they descended further, Kenny felt an uncomfortable feeling building in his ears. Remembering his training, he pushed air into his pinched nose and waggled his jaw. His ears popped just as a shadow fell across his back. Twisting his head upwards, Kenny saw the unmistakable bullet shape of a large shark.

Dwayne continued to lead the way, glancing back from time to time to make sure that Kiyomi and Kenny were keeping up. He pointed and, in the distance, Kenny could see a dark, angular form rising up from the seabed. Even from here he could discern stone blocks and massive terraced steps, like the sides of a truncated Mayan pyramid.

As they drew closer, the features of the underwater ruin became more distinct. Kenny could make out a standing pillar, narrow channels, a road of sorts, platforms, stairs – and more sharks. Thousands of adult hammerhead sharks were circling lazily round the edifice like a slow-motion tornado, funnelling upwards. Everywhere Kenny looked, he saw stubby, twig-like shark silhouettes revolving as if on guard.

Dwayne released more air from his buoyancy jacket and cruised down to the seabed, gesturing for Kiyomi and Kenny to follow. He glided along the bottom, kicking up sand with each stroke of his flippers, and led the way beneath the sharks to the south side where a crude staircase appeared to have been cut into the rock.

He motioned for Kiyomi to take the lead and in reply she circled a finger to indicate a loop around the ruins. Still holding Kenny’s hand, Kiyomi led them in an anticlockwise circuit of the city. They passed a huge star-shaped slab which resembled a turtle, a small triangular pool, twin pillars that looked as if they had come from Stonehenge and a partly eroded stone face.

By now, Kenny had forgotten everything except the scene around him. He turned his head in every direction, drinking in the wonder of the underwater world. Questions crowded into his mind. Who or what could have built such a structure? Did it sink or was it always underwater? Was it part of an ancient civilisation or just an odd natural formation?

He could see why it would be fascinating for treasure hunters, but was there any actual treasure? If so, what hope did they have of finding it? Yet why else would Susano-wo have sent them here?

Kiyomi gave his hand a sharp tug and pointed upwards. Kenny looked. All he saw was the silhouette of the giant turtle still cruising above, a black shadow against the bright surface. And then it hit him: he could only see the turtle. Where had all the sharks gone? Kenny’s stomach lurched. What could scare off a thousand sharks?

The answer came from the middle distance: a cluster of silvery dots growing larger with each passing second. Kiyomi looped her fingers into Kenny’s weight belt and hauled him backwards. She pointed to a narrow chasm behind a rectangular boulder and kicked towards it.

Dwayne glided away to take a better look at the rapidly closing objects. Not liking the look of them, he unsheathed two wicked-looking combat knives and held them ready.

The approaching objects sharpened into five-metre long metallic blue cylinders with stabilising fins, dead black eyes and gaping mouths crammed with hooked teeth: mako sharks.

Kenny took a last look and gasped, almost ejecting his breathing regulator, as Kiyomi yanked him into the fissure. As if a hunting pack of mako sharks wasn’t terrifying enough, each predator was carrying some kind of humanoid creature on its back. It was only a split-second glimpse, but Kenny saw grey skin, pointed heads and jagged spears in hands, all bearing down on the hapless Dwayne.

Kiyomi wriggled her way as deep as she could into the dark crevice. Kenny followed blindly, bumping his face into Kiyomi’s shoulder and dislodging his mask. Salt water flooded in. He was about to clear his mask when he felt Kiyomi’s steely grip on his hand. Squinting through the seawater stinging his eyes, he saw Kiyomi holding her breath and stabbing a finger upwards. A cloud of silvery air bubbles was rising from his exhaust valve, as obvious as a smoke signal.

Kenny concentrated for a moment, summoning his ki, and imagined one large bubble. The rising cluster of individual globules shivered and coalesced into a single sphere. Maintaining his focus, Kenny directed the bubble downwards, into the depths of the channel they were hiding in. Now all they needed to do was wait it out until the shark pack lost interest and moved on.

Something brushed against Kenny’s head and he reached up to catch a hard, flat object. Peering at it in the near dark, he recognised the blade of one of Dwayne’s knives. He turned it in a semi-circle, to grasp the handle – and was confronted by a severed hand, still gripping tightly.

‘YAAAAGH!’ Kenny yelled, losing his mouthpiece and his concentration. The bubbles shot upwards once more.

He fumbled for his regulator and exhaled to empty the water from his mask. As his vision cleared, he saw Kiyomi shaking her fist at him and backing away along the crevice, while shooting fearful glances upwards.

Shadows converged overhead and one of the shark-riders dismounted to stand astride the chasm. It peered down into the gloom and Kenny felt its eyes bore into him. He shrank back, pressing himself against the rock to blend into the shadows. He knew he had nowhere to run.

In its webbed hands, the creature clutched a long spear with twin serrated blades. It steadied itself and took aim.

‘Something’s wrong!’ Matt said, staring out at the placid sea from the stern of the boat.

‘What do you mean?’ Charles asked, stepping out of the shade of the small cabin. ‘In what way?’

‘Just give me that aquascope over there.’ Matt pointed to a fat tube stowed beside the scuba tanks.

Charles fetched the instrument, but didn’t hand it over immediately. ‘That’s my son down there. I need to know if he’s in danger.’

‘Fine,’ Matt grumbled, holding his hand out. ‘I just saw a bunch of hammerheads jump out of the water.’

‘Is that unusual?’

‘Hell, yeah. It’s one of those things that’s possible in theory, but no one’s ever seen it happen. Question is, why are they doing it now?’

Matt took the aquascope. He flattened himself on the diving platform, pressing his face against the tube’s cushioned viewing pane, and plunged the other end into the sea. He evidently didn’t like what he saw. Cursing, he jumped up and went for his speargun.

‘What’s going on?’ Charles asked, a knot of worry growing in his stomach.

‘Mako sharks,’ Matt said. ‘Big suckers. I’ve never seen anything like it before. They’re hunting in groups and sweeping like in a search pattern.’

‘Searching? For what?’

‘Give you three guesses. Whoa! There goes one of them now.’ Matt’s outstretched finger followed the silvery dorsal fin of a shark gliding by the boat. He stood on the edge of the platform, levelled the speargun and took aim.

‘I wouldn’t stand there if I were you,’ Charles warned.

‘Chill out, Prof,’ Matt said. ‘I know what I’m doing. If I can bag this one, the blood will draw the others and they’ll eat him alive. That’ll buy time for our guys down there.’

The triangular fin disappeared, leaving only bubbles on the surf. Matt swore.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Charles asked, holding on to the rail. ‘I mean, we need to get our swimmers back up. How is sending the sharks into a feeding frenzy going to help?’

Matt’s eyes danced over the sparkling sea. ‘Sharks don’t eat a lot. Once they’ve had a bellyful, they’re done. The quicker they feed, the quicker they leave.’ Another fin broke the surface, slicing through the waves. ‘Ooh, right there. Hold that pose, you ugly . . .’

He swung the tip of the speargun in a wide arc, tracking the shark, then KRAKK! pulled the trigger. The stainless-steel shaft discharged and buried itself deep into the flesh below the shark’s dorsal fin.

‘Hah! Told you I never miss!’ Matt crowed as a bloom of crimson stained the sea. He reached for a second spear to reload the gun, watching in keen anticipation. ‘Any second now . . . Hmm. That’s weird. They’re not eating it.’

The fin sailed away, trailing blood in the water. Another fin sliced past, heading towards the boat, before it dived straight down.

‘Hey, where’d my shark go?’ Matt said, readying the speargun for a second shot.

‘I don’t know,’ Charles said, ‘but wasn’t the other one coming this way?’

WHAM! Without warning, the vessel lurched as if it had struck a rock; the hull groaned and the bow rose two metres into the air. Charles hooked an elbow through the railing as his feet slipped from under him and the deck tilted at a forty-five-degree angle.

Matt, standing at the edge of the platform, was pitched headlong into the water where the wounded shark was waiting. ‘YEE-AAGH! ’ Treading water, he tried desperately to bring the speargun on target, but the giant mako took him down with a single bite.

Charles’s stomach heaved as the boat righted itself again, throwing up a huge bow wave. Captain Mike staggered from the bridge. ‘Nandayo? ’ he growled, looking for Matt. ‘Sono bakayaro wa dokoda? ’

‘He’s gone,’ Charles murmured. ‘One shark tips the boat, the other gets revenge. This is bad.’

Thirty metres straight down, Kenny was thinking exactly the same thing. The shark-rider stabbed the spear into the crevice where it struck the stone wall by his head, making a tiny spark and chipping off a splinter of rock. Not satisfied, the creature repositioned itself and aimed again. Kenny squirmed and this time the blade scraped against the lead weight of his belt, scoring a groove in it. The rider raised its arm for a third attempt.