Then We Fly

by Rebecca Salas

  “I didn’t feel anything.” I said.

  “You may have been a bit distracted.” He offered. I looked back to the shore, so much closer now.

  “How do you think I get my feet back?”

  “How did you grow a fin?” He retorted.

  I thought about this. About my desperation to swim faster, more like she had been swimming. My desire for a fin to speed me up. Maybe. I imagined my own two, perfect feet. Separate and distinct. I wanted them. I put all of my feeling into it.

  Dylan let out a low whistle. “You definitely got all the cool superpowers.”

  I looked down and found my feet. I swished them through the water, grateful for the sensation of the water tickling between my toes.

  “Let’s get back to shore and make camp. I think I am done with adventures for the night.”

  {MISSING SYMBOL}

  It seemed only natural after my terrifying encounter with the syphon and all those nightmares flowing through me, that I would have nightmares that night. And I was left with the impression that they weren’t figments of my frenzied mind. There was something there. Someone.

  But as the morning sun arose, I couldn’t be sure of who it was, or what he wanted. I tried weakly to pull the horrors back to my mind. I knew I ought to examine them, so I tried, but I wasn’t heartbroken when the distressing memories didn’t come. Was it more of Blake’s machinations? No. I felt reasonably sure that it hadn’t been about him, but beyond that I was at a loss. And as the sun began to warm the inside of our tent making the air sticky and hot, I gave up on trying and got out of my sleeping bag.

  Dylan had sprawled out perpendicular to me in his sleep and I had to throw his legs off of me so that I could get up. We broke camp in silence. We both had plenty to think on. I had been surprised at how quickly I was able to sleep after all of the excitement. I had thought that I would be stuck awake for hours, reliving the terror, but once I had laid down and closed my eyes, I was gone. I wasn’t sure if Dylan had slept better or worse. If his twisted sleeping bag and awkward body position were any indication this morning, he hadn’t slept peacefully.

  With our tent packed and our granola bars eaten we stood there watching out over that clear calm lake. In the sunlight the water was dazzling. The glass smooth surface, undisturbed by air above or fish beneath. The smell was inviting, the water was clear all the way down to the bottom. I could tell that the lake practically called to Fynn. His body was tense, seeming torn between his desire to jump in and run away.

  “Do you think she’ll be able to come after us again?” He took a breath. “I mean, did you kill her?” Dylan asked in a quiet voice.

  “I don’t think she’s dead, but I also don’t think she’s in any shape to come after us again. We should be safe from her.” I said. Dylan grimaced.

  “Do you think there are more like her in there?”

  I thought about it. “Fynn made it sound like her kind were rare. My luck that I would run into another one so soon.”

  “You’ve come across one of her kind before?” Dylan spun to look at me, his eyes anxious. “What exactly did you do to this one? And what about her was rare exactly? That she was a violent mer?”

  I explained to Dylan what she was, and what her kind did. It hadn’t occurred to me that he didn’t realize what had passed between us. From his position it looked like we were wrestling under the water and that ended with her floating face down. When I explained to him what Nerine and I had actually done to the syphon his eyes grew wide.

  “But Fynn told you they were rare?”

  “That’s what he made it sound like.”

  “So, what are the chances that we would find one here? Can we trust Dorian?” Dylan was thoughtful.

  “Fynn trusts Dorian, unequivocally. And I really do trust Fynn. He wouldn’t put us in danger. The one we found will hopefully be the only one of her kind in here. We’ll just be more cautious going forward.”

  Dylan seemed to relax by a small degree. “How do you want to do this? Split up and cover the lake more quickly or stick with safety in numbers?”

  “There may not be another syphon in this lake, but that’s the limit of my knowledge. Who knows what other sea monsters this world might have? And this naiad, who’s to say that she’ll be friendly? We should definitely stick together.”

  Dylan nodded. “Agreed.”

  Dressed in our swimsuits again we left our bags on the quiet shore and we walked out into the lake. We started simply by walking along the perimeter of the lake. It seemed much larger now in daylight than what I had thought the night before. This was going to take a long time. I racked my brain, trying to come up with some way to find the naiad quickly.

  “I wish we had brought a boat.” I thought aloud.

  “It probably would just scare her away.” Dylan said as we rounded a little outcropping of trees and headed into an alcove.

  “You’re right. This isn’t even like bigfoot. I’ve never even heard of anyone seeing a water sprite or a naiad or… any of this stuff before. Just because we’re in the right spot, why would she let us find her? She must have some defense against the average human stumbling on her and carting her away to some laboratory.”

  “We don’t smell like most humans.” Dylan offered.

  “What is that supposed to mean.” I raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ve noticed smells a lot, more…” he paused, thinking, “just differently than I did before. We don’t smell like the mer or the salt water, but we don’t smell like regular people either.”

  “You can tell the difference?” I asked.

  Dylan nodded. “The crew of our ship yesterday were mostly human. We don’t smell like them. I haven’t found anyone that smells like us yet.”

  “Even Zoya?” I asked

  “I guess that she’s the closest, but still different. We’re special.” He said the word like an insult and I laughed.

  “Do you think you could smell the naiad?”

  “Maybe, if we got close to her, but I wouldn’t know what to look for. I’ve never met one before, I wouldn’t have anything to compare her to. What about you?”

  “All I can smell is the pine trees and the fresh water.” I said.

  “So, I know you don’t feel super confident about it, but it seemed to keep the animals away while we hiked and I could tell what your intention was.”

  “You mean, I should sing?”

  “Yea, why not try it.” He gave an encouraging smile.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Just— don’t laugh at me.” I began to hum; I didn’t have any words in mind to sing to. I simply tried to put a feeling into it. We’re friendly. I thought. We would be good to meet. And as an afterthought; not food. Dylan stifled a chuckle and I glared at him.

  “No, no. It’s a good idea. Let whatever’s out there know that they don’t want to eat us.”

  “You could feel it?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Yea, it’s not as strong as what they do,” he gestured toward some mer in his imagination, “but I could tell.”

  A crunching branch in the tree line alerted us to the presence of something bigger than a squirrel. In unison we snapped our heads toward the sound. There, in the shadow of the tall pines was a stag with long branching antlers. He stood there, staring at us.

  “Does she look like a water nymph?” Dylan whispered barely moving his lips.

  “That’s a boy deer, Dylan. Look at the antlers.” I whispered back, keeping eye contact with the deer.

  “Not the buck. The buck naked chick on its back.”

  This caught me by surprise. I hadn’t noticed anything on its back, but now as I stared at the spot where something might sit, I saw her. She was slight and small, maybe four feet in height and thin as a child. Her long hair was brown and grew long, wrapping around her body several times before flowing down the sides of the stag. Her hair was speckled throughout with moss. Her skin shimmered and depending on how I twisted my head she would disappear from my vision comp
letely.

  “Clytie?” I asked the girl, my voice still hushed. Her unblinking gaze looked from me to Dylan and briefly out to the water. She didn’t shift, didn’t speak, didn’t even appear to have heard me.

  “Try singing.”

  “What should I sing?”

  “How should I know?” Dylan said. “Something friendly and don’t eat us.” He smiled.

  I tried again, a soft hum. We’re friends. I thought. I couldn’t put language into the noise, just feelings. I didn’t have a feeling that might mean ‘naiad’ to this person. The girl continued to stare, not blinking, not turning away. After a long moment she finally did move, or rather the stag did. It looked away from us and turning its lithe body it shot off back into the woods and out of sight. I lost sight of the girl long before I lost sight of the deer. She had shimmered out of existence the moment the deer broke eye contact with us.

  Dylan let out a huff that was meant to be a laugh. “Well, that’s not something you see every day. What do you suppose she was?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think she was our naiad.”

  “She smelled like the woods.” Dylan said. “Hardly different from the smell of pine that’s all around us. Maybe she was some, I don’t know, tree fairy.”

  “Maybe.” I smiled. “It is amazing. Seeing creatures we never saw before.”

  “Yea,” Dylan huffed, “Too bad they can’t all be as friendly as she was.”

  A thought came to me. “Maybe, I should try it under the water.”

  Dylan turned and looked at me for the first time since the girl had disappeared. Up until now he had maintained his gaze on the spot in the trees where she had disappeared. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes taking a moment to focus.

  “The humming?” He asked.

  “Yea.”

  “Good idea.” He nodded. “Maybe, we should swim out a way. Toward the center of the lake, that way it would have the best chance of her hearing.”

  “Right.” I loved the water, and even though my feet were submerged, my body longed for more contact with the clear fresh lake. My mind, however, was still uneasy after last night.

  “We’ll stick together.” Dylan said, his happy smile returning to his face.

  Swimming out toward the center, we took our time. No need to rush into anything new and unfriendly. I was comforted by the clarity of the water. Nothing could pass by or sneak up on us unseen. Every so often I would swim backwards to watch for any surprises. None came.

  “This seems as good a spot as any.” Dylan said as he stopped swimming forward and began to tread water.

  Instinctively I took a deep breath and held it, submerging my head under the water. Dylan followed me under, an amused look on his face. With each of his pointer fingers he poked my inflated cheeks making the air burst out. Right. We can breathe under water. How had I forgotten that? I had never tried breathing underwater anywhere but in the ocean. This was an all-new experience. The freshwater felt smooth and soothing, where the salt water had left a scratchy sensation. But it seemed like I had never noticed it before this. The water was like a salve, healing instead of grating.

  “We were not meant for salt water.” Dylan said, giving voice to my own thoughts.

  “But we can breathe both. Is that normal?”

  “What’s normal? I just saw a tiny girl with old eyes riding a deer in the nude.”

  I laughed. Then tried to hum. My voice carried underwater like it had never done on land or in the ocean. My voice seemed more beautiful than I had ever imagined it might be. For a moment I was distracted by it, not putting any intention into it, just feeling it twist and spiral out of me in smooth flowing waves. Dylan was right, I was made for freshwater.

  Friendly. I thought. Helpful. When I didn’t add anything else, Dylan gave me a pointed nudge. Oh. Not food. Dylan smiled wide. Around us, the calm clear waters reverberated with a hum that didn’t come from me. A cloud of tiny bubbles tickled around my feet and formed a curtain around me, blocking my vision.

  {MISSING SYMBOL}

  My humming stopped and my movements stilled. My only gesture was to reach out to where I had last seen Dylan. My hand found his arm and I held on, grateful for the assurance of his presence even if I couldn’t see him now. The bubbles stilled and didn’t continue their rise to the surface, instead they coalesced into one body. Literally. The bubbles now formed the body of a woman, two arms and legs, two feet, flowing bubble hair and an indistinct face. The arms and legs made a flowing motion, as if they too were swimming under the water like us. The hair billowed in an unseen current.

  “Clytie?” I asked.

  The bubble woman drew close to my face, her indistinct face studying mine. “What are you?” A voice asked from somewhere in the bubble body. “What do you want?” Her voice was the trill of rising and popping bubbles. No apparent lips moved.

  “We’re ondine, in part, and human too.”

  “And what else?”

  “Just that. We need to find Clytie, the naiad. Her daughter is in danger.”

  “Daughter?” The bubbles asked.

  “Naida.” I said and I thought I could make out surprise on the woman’s poorly defined facial features.

  “Follow.” She said and turned to swim away. Her form shifted as she led the way, the speed and friction with the water dragged at the bubbles causing her swimming limbs to dissipate and reform continuously.

  With a look at Dylan, we followed her out into the clear lake. The woman kept barely out of reach of us, but never left us behind. We swam quickly, following her far out into the lake. Thanks to the regular exercise and practice we had been getting back at the island, we weren’t tired. Eventually we neared the far shore. Here the clear water was dotted with lily pads, at first growing loosely and then dense. The stems intertwining, and the form of the bubble woman being broken apart and cut through as she continued. Dylan and I slowed our pace, working our way through the winding stems. Eventually the stems were so tightly knitted together that they formed a wall that we couldn’t pass, though the bubble figure made her way through a series of small openings and was lost to our sight.

  “Now what?” Dylan asked. At his words the tendrils of the wall began unwinding and shifting, pulling apart an opening where we could pass. I swam out into an open circle, walled on every side with the lily stems. Floating in a peaceful posture at the center of the circle was a lone woman. Her hair and skin were a similar shade of pink. She wore a bare covering of what appeared to be lily pads and flowers tied together about her body loosely.

  She extended her arms out to her sides. “Welcome. It has been some time since I have had such prestigious guests in my home.” She bowed her head. “And I believe I owe you a kindness.”

  “A kindness?” I asked cautiously.

  She smiled serenely. “Yes, for curing my lake of the syphon’s poison. She has been causing me trouble here for far too long.”

  Apart from her unusual clothing and coral pink coloring, she looked human. My mind sparked with curiosity. “How did the syphon come to be here?”

  “I only know that for many decades she was not here and then one day she was, and my lake has been avoided by my friends ever since. My sisters all left me some time ago. I have great hope that now they may return to our home.”

  “Why did you stay?” I asked.

  “I have maintained this lake, tending to its needs for over a hundred years. I was not about to leave it when it needed me the most. And as long as one of us remained the rest were able to leave without worry for its state. Remaining allowed my sisters the freedom to leave.”

  I thought about this. How had a mer come to be in a lake up a cliff side?

  “You said something about my daughter?” She asked beckoning us closer. We neared her cautiously. Upon closer inspection I saw that her skin shimmered gently, like there was a layer of pearl under her skin.

  “You are Clytie? Naida’s mother?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

/>   “She is in trouble.” I began, unsure of what to tell her about her daughter’s situation.

  “Is she still with her aunt?

  “Violet doesn’t know where she is.”

  “Violet?” Her angelic face looked confused. “Who… is that what you call her aunt?”

  “Yes. What do you call her?” I asked, curious.

  “If that is how she would be known, I know no other name for her.” I was unsure of her vague answer. “Perhaps she has finally flown away. Free.” Clytie seemed to be happy with the thought. “I know that Violet means well. Wants to keep her from a repeat of the troubles of the past. But Naida is old enough to decide for herself.” She spoke with such happiness for her daughter that I was hesitant to tell her the truth of the situation.

  “She’s not free.” Dylan said. “Cora, my sister,” He gestured to me, “has dreams, and can see things.”

  “A family trait no doubt.” Clytie added, kindly.

  “She’s seen what Naida’s going through. It isn’t good.”

  Clytie’s face was thoughtful. “How would you wish me to help? I cannot leave my lake until some of my sisters return to tend to it. It will take time for me to gather them back. Does Naida have that time?”

  “No.” I half choked out the word. “She has little time. There is a charm, that will allow us to protect ourselves from her. We need something from you in order to make it.”

  “I have given what you ask in the past. Why would it be needed now?”

  “Because in order to save Naida, we may have to stop her from being used by someone else. And to stop her we’ll need to be safe from her.”

  “My child should have been safe from everyone. If I had not given this before, perhaps she would never have been under anyone’s influence. I do not know if I should repeat that decision. What assurance would I have that it wouldn’t be used against her?”

  “Only my word.” I said, feeling certain that it wouldn’t be enough. She eyed me thoughtfully for a long time. Her pink hair floating out in billowing waves around her face.

  “Sing me a promise and I will give you what you want.”