Mermaidia: A Limited Edition Anthology

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by Pauline Creeden


  The moon waned, and went dark, and that night Muireen dreamed of the Sea Witch.

  “Tomorrow,” the witch said. “Tomorrow you come back to the sea. If you are not in the water’s embrace by sunset, your legs will disappear and you will be revealed for what you truly are. And you will be killed for it.”

  Muireen woke, shivering, and knew the witch spoke truly. Even if Eiric tried to protect her, he would not be able to stand against the villagers. In her mer form she would be too strange, too frightening. They would take her life, and little Brea’s as well.

  When Eiric woke and made ready to go out to his boat, she caught his arm and shook her head at him. Don’t go.

  “What’s this, love?” He gazed down tenderly at her.

  She touched her heart, then his, then glanced down at the babe sleeping in her arms. This was their last day together.

  “Aye, I love you and our family with all my heart. But I must go out and fish.”

  She took his arm again, all her sorrow rising in her eyes, and he relented.

  “Very well. But only for today.”

  She gave a small nod. Yes. Only that day—for tomorrow she would be gone forever.

  She packed a lunch, put Brea in her sling, and they roved out over the headland. Eiric collected a bouquet of wildflowers for her, and she kissed him, wishing that she could speak of what was to come.

  They ate, drank cool water from the stream, and she led him to the path down to the tiny beach where they’d first met. The first shadows from the lowering sun began to fall across the land.

  “Should we not be returning home?” he asked.

  She shook her head and started down the path. How comfortable her legs had become in a year, how deftly she stepped around stones, feeling herself balance upright in the air. Even carrying the small weight of her baby, it seemed a simple thing, to stride across the land.

  When they reached the sliver of sand, she sat, facing the ocean.

  Eiric settled beside her, one strong arm around her shoulders as she fed Brea for the last time. When the baby was finished, Muireen handed her to her father, her arms aching with loss.

  The banners of the clouds were beginning to turn silvery orange. Heart aching, Muireen stood and stripped off her clothing: shawl, blouse, skirts and shoes. She unbraided her hair until it fell loose about her shoulders, brushing her back and belly.

  Eiric watched, his gaze solemn.

  When she went to her knees before him, a single tear slipped from his eye.

  “Ah, beloved.” His voice was choked with sorrow. “Is this our end, then? Must you return to the sea and leave me cruelly alone?”

  She set her hand on Brea’s head, then looked deep into the eyes of her fisherman. Be strong, for our daughter, she thought, even as her heart was breaking.

  Their lips met. The sun dipped lower, kissing the horizon.

  Then Muireen pulled away and flung herself back, into the arms of the sea. Pain ripped through her as her legs cleaved together. She gasped, and in that moment found her voice.

  “Remember me, Eiric,” she called. “You are my true love.”

  “As you are mine, sea maid.” He rose, cradling their child in his arms. “Will I ever see you again?”

  “Look for me in the bright dance of the waves. In the foam upon the shore. Where you go, there, too, my heart goes.”

  Uncaring of the pain—what was one more stab when her soul was shattering?—she hooked her fingers beneath one of the scales of her newfound tail and ripped it free. Even as a dark current swirled in to bear her away to the Sea Witch, she flung the scale to shore.

  The last thing she heard was the sobbing of her husband, the thin wail of their child.

  “Oh, such bounty,” crooned the Sea Witch as she captured Muireen’s tears. “Not only mourning the loss of your love but of your baby. Such power.”

  At last Muireen pulled away from the witch, shuddering, her grief drained dry.

  “A pity that’s the last of it.” The Sea Witch held up the vial containing Muireen’s sorrow. “Or is it? Tell me—where is your missing scale?” She pointed at the gap in Muireen’s tail.

  “I threw it to him,” Muireen said, defiantly.

  “Ahh. Listen then, and I will offer you joy and despair in equal measure. Every year, upon this anniversary, I can use my magic to let you see the world of the mortals, via the scale you left behind. I hope your husband keeps it safe and close by.”

  “He will.”

  “Then you will be able to gaze upon him, and your child, for a brief time And when you say farewell and once again the anguish falls upon you, I will take it for my own uses. Do you agree?”

  “Will he be able to see me, too?”

  “Of course, for that will make the pain all the greater.” The witch gave her a horrible smile. “Since your pain prolongs my life, I welcome it.”

  Muireen did not like to think she was helping the Sea Witch in any way. And yet, to be able to see Eiric and her daughter once a year, however briefly, was a chance she could not refuse.

  “Very well.”

  “Good! And luckily you’ll be out of the palace dungeons next year, just in time. Now go, back to your foolish father and worthless siblings, and give them my regards.”

  Again the dark current bore Muireen through the reaches of the sea, depositing her where the indigo water faded into greeny blue. Tiredly, she swam toward the pearly towers of the palace, ready to bear whatever punishment her father thought just.

  Some day, though, she vowed she would make the Sea Witch reunite her and her mortal love.

  The first time the silver scale lit with Muireen’s image, Eiric thought he was dreaming. Gods knew, he dreamt of her constantly. But to his surprise, he could hear her, too.

  “I have not much time, love,” she said. “It is only through the magic of the Sea Witch that I may look upon you. Tell me, how do you fare? And our child?”

  He showed her Brea, sleeping in her crib, told her all was well. Too soon, the light of the scale began to dim.

  “When shall I see you again?” he cried.

  “Next year.” Her voice faded, and the cool silvery blue scale reflected back the light of his candle.

  Ah, the pain was worse after seeing her face. And yet, knowing that she still lived, that she cared for him and their child, was enough to soothe the worst of the ache.

  Every year, for a brief time, magic imbued the scale and Eiric was able to tell Muireann he loved her still. For he did, the flame of that love still burning fresh within him. He showed her how their daughter grew, and shared her milestones—first steps, first words, first swim in the sea which, thankfully, had not resulted in her sprouting fins or a tail.

  “She is not a mer,” Muireann said, “for never have our kind bred true with humans.”

  “I’m not certain she’s entirely human, though,” Eiric replied. “There is an odd touch of magic about her.”

  “Then perhaps she’s a fey water creature of some kind. But she must find her own destiny.”

  Then the scale went quiet, and all other words must wait for another year.

  It was not a pleasant thing, to bide so long, but it was enough. Eiric replayed their brief conversations in his head, traced her beloved features in memory, over and over. Their daughter grew into a lonely, quiet girl, and his heart ached within him for her solitude. He never spoke of her mother. That burden he would bear alone.

  Many years passed, until one day while Eiric was out on his boat, the sky darkened with a sudden storm. He’d weathered storms aplenty but this one felt different—full of menace. He quickly stowed his nets, the memory of the fierce gale that had nearly taken his life shivering through him.

  This storm tasted the same, the air heavy and metallic with the rising wind.

  Then it was upon him, waves churning, spray blinding his eyes. This time, he was too far from land, fishing over the deep waters. There would be no escape from the ocean’s wrath.

  Still,
he tried, fighting to keep his boat upon the waves and not under them, bailing when he could. Although Brea was nearly grown, he did not want to leave her an orphan, both parents lost to the sea.

  But he was given no choice in the matter. A great, black wave rose over his boat, then smashed down, punching him to the depths.

  Eiric floated, blinking against the salt water burning his eyes. Here, beneath the waves, it was strangely peaceful. The last of his breath left his body in a silver strand of bubbles, racing away toward the roiling surface. He let them go.

  Then Muireann was there, floating before him. She pressed a bottle to his lips and he drank, then gagged on the foul secretion.

  “Swallow it,” she said, tears in her voice. “I cannot you save you, otherwise.”

  Coldness all about him, Eiric swallowed. Then screamed as the cold burned away. Something terrible was happening to him, yet his sea maiden held him close.

  Finally, shuddering, the pain passed. He looked up at his beloved.

  “Are we dead?” he asked, amazed to find he could form the words.

  “No, my love.” She smiled at him. “You are no longer human, however. There is no return to the surface for you.”

  “As long as I might remain here, beneath the sea with you, I care not. Wherever you go—”

  “There my heart also goes,” she finished the words for him.

  Together, webbed hands clasped, they swam, tails flashing through the water. Away from the storm and darkness, away from the cold, to an enchanted palace in the far south, made of shining coral.

  There they rule to this day, wearing crowns of pearl and mantles of kelp, the Sea Queen and her once-mortal love.

  Author’s Note

  The Little Mermaid is my inspiration for this story. And while I wanted to incorporate some of the tragic elements from Hans Christian Andersen’s original tale, I still wanted a fairytale happy ending for Muireen and her fisherman, no matter the sorrow it took them to get there.

  To find out what happens to Brea, Muireen and Eiric’s daughter, pick up Brea’s Tale and discover the magic of Feyland.

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  Touched by a Mermaid

  Raine English

  Touched by a Mermaid © 2020 Raine English

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Chapter 1

  The road to Reef Ridge Academy ran parallel with the ocean, making my walk to school one that included a magnificent view of the sparkling azure waters of the Gulf of Mexico and the pure white sands of unspoiled beaches. Annalea Island was a quaint waterfront village located at the halfway point of the Florida Keys. Although I’d grown up in this tropical paradise, my life was far from perfect.

  It had taken me two years to get accepted into the prestigious ocean studies magnet school. Unfortunately, having an A average hadn’t helped me one bit. The lottery system depended on luck, and I had a short supply of that, so instead of entering as a freshman, I came in as a junior. In some schools, I might’ve been able to use my new-girl status to my advantage. However, Reef Ridge wasn’t most schools. It was a cliquey society made up of beach-loving girls with well-toned bodies and guys who looked like lifeguards. It was an impenetrable group and one I had no interest in joining. I cared about my studies, not my social status. Reef Ridge would provide me the education I’d dreamed of, and that was all that mattered. If I had to spend the next two years in isolation, so be it. I was where I needed to be.

  My dad had been a marine biologist, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of him and want to follow in his footsteps. The deep ache that never went away intensified, as it always did when he entered my mind. I blinked back tears, but one escaped and rolled down my cheek. My arms were full of textbooks, so I set them down at the side of the road and was about to grab a tissue from my pant pocket when a guy on a bike nearly ran me over. He swerved just in time, but the quick twist of his handlebars made him lose control. I clamped my hands over my mouth as I let out a high-pitched scream, expecting to see him plunge over the embankment and then down onto the rocks below. Somehow, though, he fell off first, landing in the street. His bike, however, kept going and wound up a mangled mess of twisted steel.

  “Are you okay?” I croaked, coming to stand beside him.

  He got up quickly. “Yes, no thanks to you, but I’m afraid I’m going to need a new ride to school.”

  “Maybe you should walk?” I didn’t mean to sound snarky, but I could tell he thought I had.

  His eyes were the color of the sea, but the glare he shot me darkened them to ebony, and they became the same shade as angry waves just before a storm. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been in my way.”

  Now it was my turn to be defensive. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you owned the street.”

  “Well, you could’ve at least moved over enough to let me go by. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stop a bike on a sandy road?”

  I lowered my voice in embarrassment. “I’ve never ridden a bike.”

  His brows shot up in surprise. “You’re kidding?”

  “Why would I kid about that?”

  “I don’t know, seeing as I don’t know you.” He brushed off his pants and started to walk away, but before he left, his gaze scanned over my books. “You go to Reef Ridge?” Without waiting for my reply, he added, “You must be the new girl.”

  I nodded.

  “Guess I’ll see you around then.” He was gone before I could gather up my things.

  “I doubt that,” I spat into the wind. Guys like him didn’t hang out with girls like me. He was definitely part of the in-crowd—gorgeous and cocky. I waited until he disappeared from view before I continued on my way.

  I’d just slid into my seat when the bell rang, and my Homeroom teacher began to take attendance. I’d only been late to school once, and that was back in elementary school, and it hadn’t even really been my fault. I’d fallen on my way into the building and scraped my knee, resulting in a visit to the nurse’s office. When I entered the classroom, all eyes were focused on my bandaged leg, and I felt like some kind of alien creature. I was very much an introvert and hated to have any kind of attention focused my way. Odd, being an only child, you’d think it would be the opposite. However, at my house, the emphasis had been on the family unit, not the individual child.

  Not at Belva Frank’s, though. She was as spoiled as they came. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, arriving a good five minutes late every morning, and today was no exception. When she strolled in, she made no apology, flopped down at the desk in front of me, and then rummaged through her backpack for a mirror so she could check her picture-perfect appearance. Belva was part of the Popular Girl Posse. Well, at least that’s what I called them. Three tall, slim blondes who ruled the junior class with an iron fist. One narrowed glance from beneath their heavily mascaraed lashes was sufficient to send you into Reef Ridge exile. I could care less, though, as I’d voluntarily put myself there. School had only been in session two weeks, but it was long enough for me to know that there was n
o one here I’d want to have as a friend. Except for Katie Greene. I glanced over at the petite redhead seated beside me, and she rolled her eyes.

  Belva must’ve caught a glimpse of that in her mirror because she swung around and glowered. “Got a problem, ginger?”

  Katie’s brown eyes widened, and her left hand shook as it always did when she was nervous, but that didn’t stop her from responding. “Yeah, you’re not special, so stop acting like it.”

  I sucked in a breath, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come. However, Mr. Clarke must’ve noticed the exchange because he hovered over them, thin-lipped and disapproving. “I won’t tolerate trouble in my classroom. Understand?”

  Katie said yes, but Belva mumbled something indistinguishable. It must’ve been good enough for the teacher, though, since he turned around and walked back to the front of the class.

  “You’re going to be sorry for that,” Belva spat under her breath, with a heavy glance that included me.

  Great. The last thing I wanted was to be on her radar. Not that I was afraid of her. I might be an introvert, but I wasn’t a wimp. I simply despised conflict. Did everything in my power to avoid it, but if it arrived at my doorstep, as it apparently had, I’d deal with it. My dad had been a black-belt in karate and had taught me well. I shouldn’t have a problem defending myself.

  When the bell rang, indicating it was time to head to first period, Katie stopped me in the hallway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think my ticking off Belva would put you on her hit list too.”

  I offered her a reassuring smile. “No worries, really. I’m sure her bark is much worse than her bite.”

  Katie groaned. “I wish that were the case, but you don’t know her like I do. She’s bad news.”

  “Then we’ll have to band together. Two are harder to take out than one, right?”

 

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