Enemy of Oceans by EJ Altbacker Read Free Book Online Page A

Repeat this until I tell you otherwise.”
    Snork flipped the coral up a few feet and then used his sharp bill to cleanly chop a stalk of kelp in half. He gathered the coral onto his bill. After taking a moment to balance it, he did this again.
    â€œFaster,” Takiza said. “Speed and precision are the hallmarks of a bladefish.”
    Snork kept throwing the coral above his bill and severing the nearest stalk of greenie, all the while moving forward. It was difficult.
    â€œYou . . . are not terrible at this,” Takiza remarked. “Have you ever done this particular exercise before?”
    â€œNot—on—purpose!” Snork answered as he fought the current to keep the smooth piece of coral from falling off his flat bill. “Sometimes . . . when I didn’t do my chores . . . Dad would . . . make me do this as punishment.”
    â€œIntriguing. Your father trained you as both a reward and punishment. Something to consider with my next apprentice, perhaps. Now, catch this second piece of coral on your bill without dropping the first,” Takiza told him before zipping away.
    â€œWhat?” Snork asked.
    He understood seconds later when Takiza somehow flipped a larger chunk of coral high above him. It dropped through the water toward Snork, but to the right. There was no way to catch them both unless he moved. Snork flipped the first chunk of coral upward and to the right. He caught the second as it fell, then recaught the first.
    His dad always said he was pretty quick with his bill.
    The weight was terrible though, and Snork thought his eyes would pop from his head.
    â€œI did not say you should stop cutting down greenie,” Takiza remarked.
    Once Snork got the two pieces of coral next to each other, he resumed cutting stalks of kelp. “This—is—hard,” he sputtered.
    â€œThat is because it is not meant to be easy.” Takiza floated above one of the chunks of coral as Snork adjusted his position to keep both pieces on his bill. “Your father was a bladefish. It is the only reason for you to have experience with these exercises. He was training you with the games that you played, as well as the punishments you received.”
    The current died around him and Snork smoothly sliced a thicker strand of kelp. He hesitated for a moment as memories of his father flooded into his mind. Takiza somehow knew that both Snork’s father and mother were swimming the Sparkle Blue. It had happened a long time ago, before Snork met Striiker, Shell, and Mari and before they all formed Rogue Shiver with Gray and Barkley. He missed his parents so much, but he was sure that their spirits had led him to meet his very best friends in the world.
    â€œHe—he never said anything about that,” Snork said, striking at a piece of purple-greenie. “What’s a bladefish?”
    Takiza’s fins billowed in all their colorful rainbow glory as he spoke. “Bladefish are a secret society of wandering warriors—sharkkind and dwellers—who swim the seven seas and right wrongs. Now, catch the third piece of coral without dropping the first or second, and of course, continue cutting greenie.” The betta zipped away and flipped another piece of coral—this one larger than the first two put together—to Snork’s left.
    â€œAw, krill!” Snork exclaimed as he thrust his bill up hard, launching the two pieces of coral on it to the right. But the third chunk of coral was heavier and fell too fast. It hit him right in the head . . . followed by the second, then the first. “Oww!” he cried.
    â€œIt seems there is room for improvement,” the betta said. “Your training is advanced, but incomplete. We will have to remedy this.”
    â€œHow come I’ve never heard of these bladefish?” Snork asked, shaking his aching bill from side to side and taking a much-needed breather.