The great clam's brilliant blue mantle shimmered along the edges of its opened shell. Decades of coral encrustation had turned the creature into a jewel as bright and colorful as the reef itself. The clam pulsated slowly as it syphoned sun-warmed seawater through its massive folds.

A short distance away, a scuttling crab lifted a plume of fine sand. It hung suspended for a moment, then settled. A few small reef fish fed nearby, and feather worms slid in and out of their tubed homes to sway in gentle currents, but nothing larger disturbed the quiet surrounding the giant clam.

"The sea is calm, gentle friend," Iuti Mano sang softly.

She squatted near one end of the huge, hinged shell, taking slow, careful breaths from the tube vine attached to her shoulder. She had set a weighting spell on herself earlier to prevent her from floating upward with each breath she took. A thin stream of bubbles bounced along with her calming words toward the surface.

Iuti was dressed much more plainly than the clam. Her shirt and trousers were faded and worn, torn after weeks of searching through the treacherous coral for this particular site. Her white hair was tied in a tight warrior's knot atop her head. The only ornament she wore was a large shark's tooth hung from a thick necklace of braided, human hair. "The water is sweet and warm," she sang. She flexed her fingers to keep them from stiffening around the hilt of her bared sword. "Relax, generous friend."

The great serrated shell stretched open another finger's width.

Save for the slight movement caused by the clam's rhythmic syphoning and her own breathing, the water remained still. Iuti took another breath of slightly sour air and glanced up to where Tarawe sat in their small canoe. The gift was watching through a glass-bottomed bucket. She grinned as their looks met. Iuti blew a stream of bubbles and grinned back.

Iuti's chant affected only the clam itself. It was Tarawe who was keeping the water calm. With her newfound water and wind magic, the girl was holding the sea so still it hardly seemed to move. The surface gleamed like polished glass above where Iuti crouched. Even the clouds were being kept at a distance so that none would cast a shadow over the light-sensitive clam.

Tarawe had spelled a protective shield around the clam as well, to keep out any sea creatures whose movement might startle the mindless creature and cause it to retract and close itself inside its massive shell. That wasn't something they wanted to happen while Ho'oma'eva was deep inside.

Iuti returned her full attention to the clam. The sea mimic, in his guise as a long-armed octopus, was just dipping out of sight again into the great clam's maw. Ho'oma'eva had spent the long day hovering over the ever-widening mouth of the clam. His rusty orange body contrasted sharply with the clam's brilliant blue. He sank slowly and lifted, sank and lifted, each time brushing the tips of his tentacles against the sensitive surface of the clam's shining flesh.

In the beginning, the fluted folds of azure had shrunk back from his touch, retracting from where they were spread over the outer lips of the shell. Sometimes the shell itself would begin to close. Then Iuti would whisper another word of the calming spell, Ma'eva would lift away, and after a time the clam would relax fully open again.

They had been working with the clam since morning, and after so many hours of quiet, it had grown tolerant of Ma'eva's gentle probing. Now it only shivered slightly and shifted away from his teasing touch. The massive shell remained steadily open.

At long last, Ma'eva nudged a gelatinous fold aside and the object of their long search was revealed. Iuti tensed, then quickly forced herself to relax again as she stared at the Great Pearl. It was much larger than she had expected, larger than an overripe coconut. It glowed milky white against the clam's deep-blue flesh.

Even in their wildest childhood speculations, back when she and Ma'eva had playfully seeded the clam with a fingertip-size pebble of coral, they had never imagined such a prize as this. Of course, they had never expected to wait twenty years before harvesting it.

Iuti smiled. This harvesting of the Great Pearl held more meaning than the simple gathering of the stone. Her agreement to make the attempt had been a long-standing mating challenge between her and Ma'eva in his human form. The sea mimic's sinuous movements around the gleaming pearl reminded her of the many pleasant hours of lovemaking they had shared in celebration of the end of their childhood challenge.

Ma'eva bumped the pearl closer to the center of the widely spread shell. The clam shivered slightly. The shell moved.

Iuti sang the charm again, hiding her excitement behind the soft calming words. "The sea is calm, generous friend," she sang.

She tightened her fingers around the hilt of her sword. She knew she couldn't stop the massive creature from closing, as it surely would when Ma'eva began pulling the pearl free. But by wedging her weapon between the two halves of the hinged shell, she hoped to give him time to lift the pearl and escape before the shell's strength overcame her own and closed completely.

If they failed to retrieve the pearl today, it would be weeks, perhaps months, before they could try again. After being disturbed in such a way, the clam wouldn't relax again soon. Iuti had made Ma'eva promise to leave the pearl if he couldn't get both himself and the great gem out in time. If the sea mimic were to become trapped inside, he might well be a pearl himself by the time Iuti could force open the shell and get him out.

"The sea is calm, generous friend," Iuti sang. Ma'eva slid a trio of tentacles around the pearl.

A few more careful touches. A few more calming words. Then the prize would be theirs. Iuti took a breath and sang the calming charm again through smiling lips.

Suddenly a shadow slid across her shoulders. A cloud? she thought. It couldn't be. Tarawe would never allow such a dangerous distraction at this critical moment.

Something large splashed into the water behind Iuti. She looked up and back to see a streak of gray sweeping toward her.

Shark! she thought, but knew instantly it was not.

It was a dolphin!

How could a dolphin have broken through Tarawe's shield? Even the shark god Mano Niuhi hadn't been able to do that.

There was no time to warn Ma'eva. Iuti could only hope he had felt the vibration of the splash from his position deep inside the clam. It was clear the clam itself had sensed the disturbance. It shivered and began quickly sliding in on itself.

Iuti rammed her sword into the swiftly narrowing crack of the hinged shell.

She ducked as the dolphin swept past her. It crossed directly over the rapidly closing shell and brushed its tail across the clam's flesh, as if deliberately urging it to retract.

"Mano's bloody teeth!" Iuti muttered. Where had the dolphin come from? What was it doing? Why hadn't Tarawe stopped it?

There was no sign of Ma'eva. Iuti leaned forward and saw him deep inside, caught in the retracting mantle's folds. His tentacles were still tangled around the pearl.

"Leave it!" she cried. "Get out, Ma'eva!"

Bubbles bounced upward along her cheeks as the closing shell reached the metal edges of her sword. It ground to a halt. Iuti held the blade level with all of her strength. Its razor-sharp edges sliced easily through the clam's soft flesh. They chipped away flakes of pearlized shell, marring even the coral-hardened outer edges of the great clam's home. But the heart muscle of the clam was far stronger than she. The sword's hilt began to twist in her hands. The shell began, slowly, to close again.

"Get out, Ma'eva!" she called. She could say no more, for her air was gone. She groped with her mouth for the tube vine while continuing to watch Ma'eva struggle upward with the pearl. He had almost reached the outer edge of the shell, Iuti sucked in a breath of warm air and used the strength it provided to hold her sword steady.

As suddenly as it had come the first time, the dolphin swept over her again. It caught the air tube in its mouth and yanked it away from her shoulder. A quick glance showed the vine dangling just out of reach, Iuti cursed as the shadow of the dolphin passed on and disappeared.

Her footing was still firm in the treacherous coral, but despite her own great strength, her sword continued to twist slowly in her hands. Her wrists burned with the strain of trying to keep it from snapping vertical and releasing the shell to close entirely.

Ma'eva had maneuvered the pearl to the very edge of the shell. He was trying to turn it to fit through the narrow opening. The egg-shape gem was obviously heavy and there was only one way it would fit through the opening now. Ma'eva tugged and twisted and turned.

Iuti's lungs felt as if a knife were passing through them. Her arms trembled. Leave it, Ma'eva! she cried silently. It's not worth your death! Her vision began to grow fuzzy.

Still Ma'eva did not release the pearl. He slid part of his body out of the shell. He used four of his arms to brace himself against the outer shell, and for an instant, it looked as if he might be able to lift the pearl free.

Then a sudden racing current knocked away Iuti's sure footing. The dolphin again! This time it brushed its broad tail against the backs of Iuti's legs. She fell and her sword was wrenched from her hands. She had time only to curse the dolphin's flashing form again before landing hard on the razor-sharp coral. A blue-black cloud spread suddenly over the great clam.

Iuti scrambled up, blinking away growing darkness, denying the overpowering urge to surface for air. She stumbled back toward the clam, surprised to see that it had not yet fully closed. A handful of coral rubble had washed into the narrow crack where her sword had been. The stones had stopped the shell from closing entirely, but as she watched, the porous coral crumbled into sand. The great shell slid tightly closed.

Iuti could see nothing of Ma'eva through the spreading ink and her own desperate need for air. Had he escaped? Had he been caught, or crashed in the final closing of the shell they had worked so long to keep open?

There was nothing she could do without air. The sea all around her had turned dark; she wasn't even certain which way the surface was. Only an image of Ma'eva trapped between the closing jaws of the great clam remained clear in her mind. She could hear nothing but the pounding of her own heart.

She felt swift motion, warm water sliding rapidly across her skin. The dolphin! she thought.

Go ahead and kill me, Dolphin, she tried to say, I can't do anything to stop you now. But her lips wouldn't form the words and she had no air to force them free. Her arms and legs felt as if they were stones.

Suddenly bright light struck her eyes. Sunlight! The water slid away from Iuti's face, and in her shock, she gasped and sucked in a deep, painful breath of afternoon air. Then another and another until her vision cleared and she could feel and hear again.

"Ser Iuti!" It was Tarawe's voice. "Ser, come! We have to help Ma'eva."

"Ma--" Abruptly Iuti came fully conscious. "Where?" she rasped before choking on a mouthful of splash from her own flailing arms. "Is he alive?"

"He's caught in the clam. Come!" Tarawe dove straight down. Iuti took three deep breaths, then one more to bring luck to the dive, and followed.

The ink Ma'eva had released was dissipating quickly. A large stain had settled over the upper edges of the clam. With air in her lungs, the seawater was clear to Iuti again and she almost called out in relief when she saw a writhing mass of tentacles at the top of the great shell. Ma'eva was alive!

Iuti motioned for Tarawe to bring the air tube near. The girl did it without leaving Iuti's side, using her water magic to carry the tube to them. Then she closed and opened her left hand, and the water all around them grew calm again. There was no sign of the damnable dolphin.

As quickly as Iuti touched him, Ma'eva grew still. He slid three of his long arms around Iuti's left arm and clung with sucking tension to her water-soaked skin.

"I'm here, good friend," she said. "I'll get you free."

A fourth tentacle snaked around her wrist and held her close. Iuti managed a smile as Ma'eva's rubbery head relaxed against her fingers. She pulled in a breath of air from the tube vine and bent to examine Ma'eva's other arms. Only two were caught in the closed shell, but they were caught firmly, about a finger's length from their tips. There was no sign of the pearl.

Tarawe brushed Iuti's shoulder and pointed to where her sword lay on the coral. Iuti nodded. There was only one way to free Ma'eva, since he chose not to free himself. The tendrils around her arm squeezed tighter.

Tarawe swam to pick up the sword herself, not trusting her untrained water magic to bring it to them as safely as the tube vine had come. She had learned the hard way that human-made items weren't as trustworthy as those of the sea. She handed the sword's hilt to Iuti carefully, then bit her lower lip and moved back.

Iuti didn't hesitate. As soon as the blade was in her hand, she sliced it across the shell's upper edge, cutting Ma'eva free. He clutched her hand tightly for just an instant, then hung limp. The natural suction of his mimicked body kept him wrapped firmly around her arm as she swam swiftly for the surface.

Tarawe reached it first. "Is he--"

"He'll be all right," Iuti said as soon as she had air. "We need to keep him in the water, though. If he changes back to his human form now, he'll carry the injury with him, and there's no way to know if that was two fingers or a whole hand I just cut off."

"Or a foot," Tarawe said. She stared wide-eyed at Ma'eva.

"Aye," Iuti muttered. "Or a foot." She hoped Ma'eva had sense enough to remain in his present form until the tentacles could regenerate fully. He had promised, before she had agreed to this plan, that he would if the need arose.

He also promised to leave the pearl behind at the first sign of danger, she reminded herself. Fool mimic. She thought for a moment, then decided against placing a binding spell of her own on her injured friend.

To her relief, Ma'eva remained limp and fully an octopus while she climbed into the canoe. She scooped up a bucket of seawater, peeled Ma'eva from her arm, and set him into it. She licked two fingers of her right hand and said a soft word while dipping them into the water beside the sea mimic. His color mottled, then brightened again. He relaxed onto the bucket's bottom. Iuti wasn't certain the small healing spell would work -- she had never had occasion to treat a mollusk's injuries before -- but she knew it would do no harm.

Tarawe lifted herself aboard in silence.

"What happened?" Iuti asked. She was surprised at the depth of her disappointment. They had come so close.

Tarawe dropped her gaze to the sea. She brought it back slowly. "I don't know. The dolphin--"

"How did it get past your shield?"

"I don't know! It just came. I tried to stop it, Ser, but all of a sudden it was there. I couldn't stop it from scaring the clam."

Iuti frowned. Tarawe had no reason to lie about what had happened. And she certainly had no reason to want the pearl harvest to fail. The pearl had been promised to the birdfolk in return for their help in the recent battle at Fanape. Tarawe considered the debt as much her own as it was Iuti's or Ma'eva's.

"How could a simple dolphin break through your shield when Mano Niuhi himself could not?" Iuti asked.

Tarawe straightened. "I did just what you said. I watched all around and didn't let anything bigger than a fingerfish move in the water near you and Ma'eva."

"Then how--"

"I told you! It just came! There was a big splash and then it was there! I thought it was a bird at first, but then I saw it wasn't."

Her words made no sense. "What did the dolphin do after it first startled the clam into closing?"

"It circled back and knocked the air tube away from you," Tarawe said. "I tried to turn it in the water, but nothing happened. I mean, the water turned, but the dolphin just kept moving through it. Then it knocked you down and--"

"Was it you who washed the coral stones into the shell to keep it from closing?" Iuti asked.

Tarawe nodded. "It was all I could think to do. It didn't work very well."

"It worked well enough to save Ma'eva's life," Iuti said, glancing into the bucket, "and most of his limbs. What did the dolphin do then? Where did it go?"

"I don't know. I was too busy trying to keep the shell from closing and then getting you to the surface for air." Tarawe's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Ser. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming and strengthened my shield, or... something."

That didn't make sense either. Tarawe's water and wind skills were for the most part still untested, but the one thing Iuti knew the girl could do well was set a proper shielding spell. There was no way any sea creature could have broken through her guard. The dolphin couldn't even have jumped over the shield, because Tarawe's control of the air was even stronger than that of the water. Only the strongest of the birds could break through.

A chill ran along Iuti's arms. "By the gods!" she whispered. She glanced up and around. Except for a few scattered clouds, the sky was completely empty. Not even Tarawe's friendly gull was nearby.

"It must have been a flying dolphin!" Iuti said.

Tarawe caught her breath. She looked quickly up at the sky, then down again at the sea. Her face turned very pale. "A flying dolphin?" she said in a very small voice.

Iuti set the bucket containing Ma'eva into the bottom of the narrow hull. "Only a bird could have broken through your shield. The flying dolphins are as much airfolk as they are creatures of the sea. There's nothing else it could have been."

"But why would it come here?" Tarawe cried. "Why would a flying dolphin want to stop us from harvesting the pearl?"

"I don't know." Iuti slid her paddle into the water and began pulling the canoe toward the small island where they had made their camp. But she did know. Or at least she had a good idea. The way Tarawe fumbled as she turned in her seat, the tenseness of her back as she slid her own paddle into the sea, made it clear that the girl knew, as well.

"Revenge," Tarawe whispered.

The word scudded like a wind-damaged gull across the quiet lagoon.