Cloak of the Sea

Adversaries

As the sun sank lower in the sky like a glowing balloon low on helium, its light shifted from bright yellow to a dull red. When it touched the horizon, it seemed to melt, its colors washing out across the ocean's rippling surface until the light vanished altogether.

With the departure of the sun, the carnival produced its own illumination in the form of multicolored bulbs and florescent neon. The Ferris wheel was an artificial star with rays of color radiating down its spokes from the center. The lights weren't the only things filling the night air. A great host of balloons strained to be free of the strings tying them to stalls and displays. Smells from dozens of food vendors created salivating aromas sufficient to make a person hungry even if they were full. Always in the background was the salty brine of the sea.

Recorded music of a simulated calliope spilled from the speaker system of the carousel as the mechanically animated horses and sea beasts of painted fiberglass went round and round to the delight of spectators and riders alike. The music of the carousel was temporarily surpassed by screams of excitement when a nearby rollercoaster swooped down the initial hill and began its fast race along its wavy and looped tracks.

Tasmin watched everything, or at least tried to watch everything, her glowing eyes wide and alert the way a cat stared while trying to decide which prey to chase. Markus took the momentarily distraction to step over to the stand of a nearby vendor and place an order.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Markus questioned as he returned to her.

"A place of wonders," Tasmin agreed in a breathless whisper.

"Here," he offered, holding out a paper bag colored by vertical red and white stripes. It was filled to nearly overflowing with randomly shaped nodules of white and yellow. "Try this."

She took one of the nodules from the container. It was warm to the touch and slightly yielding to pressure. Tasmin was uncertain what she was supposed to do with it until Markus took one himself and popped it into his mouth. She followed his example. Although firm, the module was mostly air and crunched easily between her teeth. She recognized the taste of salt; the other flavors were unknown but enjoyable.

"It's delicious," she complimented. "What is it?"

"It's called popcorn," Markus answered.

Tasmin suddenly stopped chewing, staring with unwavering focus at the roof a pavilion where a target shooting rang was housed.

"Something wrong?" Markus questioned.

She pointed to the flag fluttering from a short length pole. "It's familiar."

"How so?" Markus prompted.

"I don't know," she admitted. Closing her eyes, she placed the fingertips of one hand against her temple as if fighting off a headache. "There's something about it. If only I could remember!"

"Don't worry about it too much," Markus advised. "If something is familiar, its means your memories are still there, just out of reach for the moment. Maybe other things will be familiar too, and your memories will start to surface."

"Memories. Surface," Tasmin repeated. Her eyes snapped open, and she spun around to face him. "That's it! I had a cloak, and it has my memories. If I can get it back, I'll remember everything. You can help me find it."

"What makes you think I can find it?" Markus inquired. "I'm not a detective."

"I don't think it was an accident I washed up on your beach," she explained. "While I still had my memories, I could've know what to do, so you must've been picked for a reason."

"Unless you were carried by the sea current and you forgot how long you were at sea before you washed ashore," Markus countered.

"I don't know!" she snapped. "I wish I did, but I don't. All I do know is I believe you can help me. Isn't that enough?"

"I suppose," Markus accepted. "I'm not sure I believe a cloak holds your memories, but for the sake of argument, let's say it does. How did you lose it in the first place? If you found it, what would happen to the memories you've made since?"

"I don't know how I lost it," Tasmin explained. She moved to stand by the weathered rail, watching the neon colors of the carnival ripple across the waves. "If I got it back, I might lose everything I've experienced afterward, a memory reset."

"Here's a question to think on," Markus offered. "What if you didn't like who you were and gave it up on purpose?"

"It's possible," Tasmin replied softly. "It doesn't matter. I have to know. Will you help me?"

He could see the silent plea in her glowing blue eyes.

"Alright," he agreed. "If it turns out you didn't want it, I can help you get rid of it for good and explain to you what happened if your mind resents again."

"Thank you," she nearly squealed in delight.

"There she is!" shouted an angry voice.

As Markus and Tasmin looked in the direction of the voice, a silver trident bit deep into the railing next to them, missing by mere inches.

Standing fifty feet away was a man who looked very similar to Tasmin. Pale skin, sunken eye sockets with glowing eyes, hair resembling seaweed, and an outfit seemingly made from woven kelp. The first thing Markus noticed was the suit wasn't green like Tasmin's but an iridescent black. Two more people of similar appearance and dress pushed their way from the crowd to stand beside the first.

The newcomer on the left pulled a long, silver rod from a pocket on the outside of his leg and partially concealed behind the fin like material running from hip to ankle. The man whipped his forearm down similar to the way Markus had seen police ready telescoping riot batons. The rod became a spear, and as the last extendable section slid out and clicked into place, springs released, and a pair of barbed prongs snapped out to form a trident.

"Time to go," Max said as he grabbed Tasmin and pulled her after him. Together, they sprinted away from the trio.

"Shouldn't we stay and fight?" Tasmin asked as they darted between a stand selling fresh corn dogs and one offering oversized cookies.

"With what?" Markus demanded. He didn't dare look back but continued forward, trying to put as much distance and as many objects as possible between them and their unknown assailants. "Might've been killed before I got that trident loose from the rail. Any idea who they are?"

"I think they want the cloak too," Tasmin offered. "I'm not sure."

"I don't think so," Markus denied. "They saw you without it, yet they still tried to kill you, and they're chasing. Whoever they are, it's clear they want you for some reason."

"Maybe we could catch one and interrogate him," Tasmin suggested. "They seemed to know what's going on."

"I doubt the other two would stand by and watch," Markus responded. He saw a hall of mirrors maze but quickly rejected the idea of trying to lose their pursuers inside as the single entrance and exit would make it exceedingly simple to catch anyone trying to get out.

"If we could isolate one, we could capture him," Tasmin proposed.

"I'm a computer technician," Markus stated. "If they have any kind of combat training, the fight wouldn't last long, even with the two of us working together. Our best choice is to stay ahead of them and escape without being seen. IF we can get back to my place, I have a car, and we can put some serious distance between us."

"Since you have your memories," Tasmin replied, "I'll defer to your decision."

Markus saw an opening in the crowd and plunged through it with Tasmin in tow, hoping to find a way back to his house before the three enemies cut off their escape and surrounded them.