Summer Palace

In the center of the lake, a vast, strange shape was growing out of the water. It looked at first glance like a gigantic narwhal tusk, as if someone had taken four towering pillars of white stone and braided them together. Huge flat bubbles of stone grew out of the pillars at regular intervals. Fathom realized with a start that they were literally growing — expanding, inch by inch, as slow as a sea slug inching across the ocean floor.
The whole thing was an amorphous, misshapen blob, a weird growth on the insides of the beautiful island.
“Oh no,” he blurted. “What went wrong?”
Albatross paused for a long moment, studying the shape, before answering. “What makes you think something is wrong?”
“Um … I’m sorry,” Fathom stammered. “It’s — is it — supposed to look like that?”
Albatross ducked his head under the water and came up with a smile on his face. “It’s not finished,” he said lightly. “It’s still growing into its final shape. I must admit, I didn’t think it would take so long. But when it’s done, trust me, it will be the pride of the Kingdom of the Sea.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will!” Fathom’s mouth tumbled on ahead of him. “Everyone will love it! Because it’s a … the best possible … such a cool …” He trailed off, feeling like a sinking snail.
“It’s a new palace, grandson,” said Albatross. He turned to swim to the nearest beach. “Entirely grown by animus power. I call it the Summer Palace — a place where royalty can escape to enjoy the warmest weather of the year.”