When Venora stilled, Calder relaxed his arms, pushing her away. He strained toward surface above them, but his legs didn’t respond.
For Gaire, for Mike, for his parents.
Satisfaction warmed him. The sun shimmered over the water, the beams bending through the tear in the canvas above him.
A wish chased the muddle through his mind. Gaire. She would never be his.
Cold, black waters swallowed him.
Chapter 10
San Francisco
Calder had to be nearby. Gaire stirred the silty bottom with her fin. If she could locate his body, she had a chance. A hurricane caught her then a party in the bay had kept her from coming ashore. By the time she reached his apartment, he’d gone.
A clip of a convertible flying from the bridge played on the news. When she traced him across San Francisco, the sense of him had led her to water. To the silt beneath the surface.
He had to be there. This had been where the car had fallen and the last place her soul heard his. Finding noting in the mud, she moved on to search the next spot.
Off the coast of busy San Francisco, Gaire searched the Strait, ducking out of view each time humans came near. Far beneath the black-bottomed Police boats and the rudders of volunteer boats, hiding and searching in the shadows.
Gaire risked harsh punishment. That much she knew. Mother Mistress hadn’t left any room for doubt. Yet it didn’t matter. Calder needed her, and she could no longer sense him like a beacon in the distance. Venora had to be responsible.
She sifted through the murk. This had been the last place she’d felt Calder. He’d convulsed and his life light winked out.
She planned to take him back to Cathair Uisce. She would hide him if she had to. Her thoughts jumped from disobeying Mother Mistress to finding Calder. Nothing mattered but restoring him to life.
What would Mother Mistress do when she found out? Kill them both?
Questions would be inevitable. How had she known he needed her right then? How had she gained access to the Looking Well? How had she been able to use it?
Dread filled her. All of Cathair Uisce would soon know Gaire had magical skills far beyond summoning the shift. Premonitions, magic, she’d learned how to do so much.
A brief glimpse of red caught her eye, glimmering in the daylight made dull by the cloudy water. She darted across the bottom, coming to a stop over a submerged vehicle.
Her breath caught, and, for a moment, Gaire couldn’t move. Calder lay, sprawled in the passenger seat. He seemed so lifeless. Had she arrived too late? By the winds and waves, she prayed not.
Gaire struggled to pull Calder’s limp body upward from the wrecked convertible and the hill of Pacific silt settled over it. She kissed Calder’s cheek and then turned to stare toward the open ocean.
His glassy eyes peered past her, and while she knew the outcome, the death in his face came perilously close to bringing her heartbeat to a standstill. She caressed his cheeks with both hands, willing him to return.
Tears filled her eyes, quickly washed away in the ocean current. She murmured his name and pressed her mouth to his. She tarried above the wreck, her arms wrapped tightly around his broad chest, breathing into his slightly opened mouth.
A cloud of winking bubbles circled them, and warmth surrounded them. Calder convulsed. He shook back and forth in her arms as cuts healed and bruises disappeared. She held tight, her eyes squeezed closed. How long they linked, she didn’t know, but she didn’t let loose until Calder went still.
When she withdrew, Calder blinked twice. His eyes widened in terror. He clutched at his throat, but he wouldn’t take a breath. He thrashed one way and then another.
Gaire pointed to her chest. “Breathe, my love. You can. Take a breath.”
But he couldn’t understand.
She laid her palm over his forehead and his eyes slid closed. His chest rose and fell in the water. At least he would breathe now. It would be a long time before he understood what magic had occurred. Maybe he would forgive her someday.
A moment later, two black-topped, white-bellied dolphins appeared by Gaire’s side. She made eye contact, nodding in response to their low squeaks. The two came alongside her, and she wrapped one arm tightly around the now unconscious Calder, grasping the dorsal fin of the larger of the two dolphins.
In a flourish of underwater mud stirred by their movements, the three pushed against the inland flow. They darted away in a swirl of bubbles, taking Calder with them.
Less than twelve hours later, Gaire watched through the break in the feathery, underwater foliage. The ocean current stirred the colorful plumage that surrounded the public seating area fashioned from the older coral. Her ears pricked with each passerby through the garden, expecting, but dreading, the summoning.
She turned away as shuffling noises sounded behind her. The gardener stopped only when the calcium carbonate was formed into a low bench with a tall, ornate back that reached through the ether toward the light.
The elderly woman waved blue tipped, tattooed fingers over the community of invertebrates, transforming their homes. She purred and clucked as the tiny polyps reshaped.
Only the best gardeners were allowed to work this near the home of the Mother Mistress, and only they were able to create structures to benefit both the coral and Cathair Uisce, and Gaire’s ex-mentor was the best the city had to offer.
Remembering the warning Mariella offered before Gaire had gone to rescue Calder, Gaire curtsied. “Good afternoon, Madam Gardener.”
Mariella turned. Her legs had a few more scales in warm grays and mossy greens. Her age showed only in her silver hair as her skin boasted the perpetual smoothness bestowed on mermaids. A length of silken brocade was wrapped around her body. The silk looked hand painted with orange-legged egrets stepping between lotus flowers.
“Why, good afternoon, fishling.” Mariella spoke as though Gaire’s presence was a surprise, but Gaire knew better. Mariella raised an eyebrow. “It’s a fine morning to be out.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Were you successful? Does he live?”
Gaire nodded, preoccupied with her worry over being summoned.
The gardener seated herself on the new bench and patted the seat beside her.
Gaire shook her head, her red-blonde hair falling forward over her shoulder. “I am waiting for summons. The Queen will wish to speak to me when she hears what I have done.”
“Right you are. Come sit with your summoner.”
Gaire hid her shock, only slightly stumbling at the revelation, quickly covering the distance to the bench. She sat with more force than she’d meant. “I had no idea, Madam.”
“Why would you? I’m only here as I was in court with Mother Mistress when she was told of your rather…” A small smile belied the serious tone of voice. “…Unorthodox morning escapades. I offered to fetch you, since I knew you, and I already knew what you’d been up to. I imagined you would be here.”
Gaire felt a tremble tingle up her spine. She clasped her hands to halt their shaking. “Is she angry?”
The elder laughed. “Possibly.” She placed her age-lightened hands over Gaire’s youthful, darker ones and offered an encouraging squeeze before she turned her hands over. Blue ink covered the palms. Depicted in the sun’s open middle, a handsome merman stood in the heart of her palm. The sunrays wrapped her hands and fingers.
“I remember what it is to be young. Rules have their place, but sometimes they’re worth breaking. I would have broken them all for my mate, you know.” She gave another squeeze, winked, and then stood. “I would have used every skill, every magic I possessed if he had needed saving. That’s why I let you go.”
“Mother Mistress knows you let me go?”
Without answering, the hand-painted silk dissolved in a cloud of gray transforming to the dressings of the court. The insignia of her station was emblazoned across the bodice of her doublet.
Speaking in formal tones, the woman said, “Gaire, daughter of Marid
ian, daughter of the Warm Waters, you have been summoned by the Queen Mother Mistress.”
Two hundred and one strides later, Gaire placed her hand on the ornate red doors and took a breath before entering the Chamber. Her stomach churned, and she closed her eyes, hoping her insides would settle. When she leaned forward, the door gave way. Gaire strolled into the room for the second time inside what felt like a short time, feigning a nonchalance that she did not feel.
Mother Mistress sat behind her large desk, the dark wood grain buffed to a high shine. Gaire considered the value of the desk. Under the surface, wood grain furniture was scarce and valuable. Though, after collecting from shipwrecks for hundreds of years, it wasn’t so rare anymore.
Time changed many things.
The mer queen wore a newer version of Mer formal court dress, pleated and flowing. She held a page, crinkled by years. Milky hair piled atop the crown of her head, two ringlets hugged her neck, softening the harsh pull of the up do.
Mother Mistress glanced up from the document and uttered only one word, “Gaire.”
Gaire curtsied.
The queen’s pearl eyes were edged in iron. She waved to the plush seat opposite the desk. Gaire did not argue or explain but quietly took the offered chair.
Mother Mistress released the paper, letting it settle on the desk. She settled into the high-backed chair. The gothic spires reminded Gaire of the crowns mermaid queens had worn long ago.
“Three days. A half-turn. That’s all it took…” the queen began, her voice laced with disapproval.
Gaire nodded. “It is pleasant to see you again so soon.”
She did not sound at all pleased. “I understand you’ve returned with a man…”
Gaire nodded once more.
“Your mate?”
“Yes, Mother Mistress.”
“We had a plan for retrieval.”
“Yes, Mother Mistress.”
Gaire jumped when the woman stood. What did she expect? An attack of some kind? How foolish. The cool of a blue blush circled Gaire’s face.
The older moved away, crossing the room. She stopped in front of the bookshelves filled with leather bound and gilded volumes. “I was not always the Mother Mistress, though I have been for some long years. I once boasted the darker pigments of youth and my name was Adrial.”
A book earned her gentle caress, her fingertip tracing the gilded binding, before taking the tome from the shelf. She placed the volume gently on the desk and stopped to stand before a large break in the concrete-like wall.
Gaire’s gaze strayed to the volume, only reading the mermish word for “Secret” before refocusing on the Queen.
The elder did not turn back, but began to speak, a faraway tone filling the room, her voice heavy with emotion. “I was only a girl when we lost the Blue Men of Minch. Those of us passed into the age of covenant consent would make the yearly pilgrimage, each being joined by vow to a Blue Man of the queen’s choosing.”
She paused and then her voice hardened. “Then mankind ended our hope. The Blue Men were found, murdered, and we believed our kind would die out. Many of us did…” Another sniff. “My mother never bore another, never found another she loved so much as my father…”
Gaire shifted in her seat. She had heard the story many times before.
The Mother Mistress twirled to face her. Gaire avoided the direct gaze but the queen stared through Gaire without seeing her.
Gaire squirmed beneath the white eyes. The intensity of the gaze felt awkward, and another mermaid blush again cooled Gaire’s cheeks. The squeak of the wooden supports beneath the upholstery caused Mother Mistress to jump slightly and her eyes narrowed.
Mother Mistress shook her head as if clearing memories. Then she continued. “I realize that your future is with this Land Son, but you must keep true to our rules. These laws have been created for a purpose. If we are to survive, our traditions will be kept, as they are, and I will see to it. I will accept nothing less.” Her intense white-hot gaze bored into Gaire’s emerald eyes.
Tension squeezed her stomach, perceiving that with the warning danger had increased. Gaire nodded. “Yes, Mother Mistress.”
Though her lips agreed, her heart promised to do whatever she had to do to keep Calder safe.
Chapter 11
Calder drifted apart from his body. Muffled sensations slipped through. His throat hurt, and he swallowed. The press of his over-sized tongue in the back of his throat triggered a painful gag that pulled his toward the physical side of him.
The first thing…
Swollen. Somehow, his whole body was swollen, and his throat ached. The two realizations crowded his mind.
His eyes hid behind his eyelids, and he didn’t want to rush into the pain threatening at the edge of wakefulness. Something rustled near his head, followed by the strong scent of jasmine and coconut on ocean breezes.
Gaire.
Calder tried to sit up, but the room spun, and he fell back against the bedding. He coughed, and then retched salty water over the edge of a soft bed. Reality shattered the muddled darkness, his thoughts still in pieces.
“Venora.” The word creaked out of his throat followed by a string of curses. He tried to force his eyes open, but they rebelled.
He waved his arm ahead of him, searching for leather car seats, seatbelts, something to hold onto. Instead, a gentle hand catch his flailing arm.
“Sssshhhh,” a voice whispered. “You’re safe.”
The lifeline calmed him and the gentle kisses placed in a line up his arm leeched the panic from him. He blinked, trying to clear the grime from his eyes, trying to see if she was really there.
“Gaire,” he moaned. The air was different now, heavier.
Someone came close and bent his arms across his chest. A woman, her body soft, wrapped limbs around him. Long hair fell around his bare shoulders. Coconut. Jasmine. Beautiful. Smell.
Calming words began blooming in the muddle, she whispered into his ear, “Calder, I’m here.”
The closeness brought a sagging exhaustion. “Did I save Mike?”
She tucked his arms against his chest, pushing him back. “Sssshhhh, Calder, not now.”
“I dreamed I had a fin.”
“No, beloved, still legs…”
Strength reserve spent, and unable to see clearly, Calder rolled toward Gaire and tugged her close, locking her against the edge of the bed, crushing her against him.
“Gaire, oh god, I can touch you freely,” he moaned. The revelation exploded as the darkness grew heavy.
She pressed her palm to his forehead. “Sssshhh, Calder, rest now.”
He fought to stay awake, afraid she would be gone when he next woke, afraid she would not be in his arms.
Calder boiled in a void. Images tumbled through his mind, two tongues, blue tendrils, translucent skin stretched over an oversized skull. Then, he was drowning, the struggle for oxygen pressing against the crushing weight of the darkness covering him until a convulsion brought inky fluid rushing into his lungs. The water crashed through him, like hundreds of ice scorpions, cold and stinging.
He leaned forward onto his elbow, coughing and breathing hard. The terrifying crush was still fresh from his nightmare. He blinked.
The air and light hadn’t changed, but he could see more clearly now. How long have had he been asleep?
He turned aside, “Gaire?” The question echoed inside the room in an unfamiliar way. It sounded hard and soft at the same time. “Gaire?” he repeated.
She did not answer.
Calder blinked once more and then wiped grit from his eyes. Furniture slowly came into focus. A white linen sheet draped him. An ornate headboard stretched in a semi-circle above him and boasted detailed pine inlaid in darker wood Calder did not recognize. Shirtless mermaids were carved into the wood, arms stretched forward over the bed. He threw back the sheet.
Weakened, he only succeeded in adjusting it to an odd angle. He tried again. The draft was odd against his ba
re skin and studied his legs. What the…? They were covered in orange shapes… like Gaire’s tattoos.
Scales. The word punched him in the gut.
He reached for his changed appendages, gasping when his hand grazed the marking. It was topped with stiff, small plates, the size of each larger at the waist and growing smaller toward his feet.
“Gaire,” he bellowed. She had been there. She would know what had happened. He hadn’t imagined it. He’d held her, hadn’t he?
“Help me,” he whispered. Then a horrible thought crashed against him. Gingerly, he reached down. Oh, thank god, that was still there.
He yanked his hands back and threw his legs over the side of the bed. The swift movement brought on a dizzy spell, and black spots swam in the edges of his vision.
He reached out to steady himself but knocked a tray to the ground. It landed with a muffled thud. The floor was spongy beneath Calder’s feet, and he swore, fighting another wave of dizziness.
The door creaked. Calder bent forward, grabbing the silverware from the upended tray. He pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around himself. A distinguished-looking woman stepped into the room. Silvery white adorned her legs and peeked through the slit in her dress. Straight colorless hair was hanging loose, the right side tucked behind her ear. No crown sat upon her head, yet she exuded majesty.
“Calder Brumen,” she said.
Calder stood still, but he flashed the butter knife. “How do you know my name?”
A dry laugh rasped. “Oh, I know you, Calder. I am Adrial, the Mother Mistress, Queen of this city. You are betrothed to one of our own.”
He remembered the sense of Gaire’s body in his arms, and he sucked in a breath. “Where is she?”
“She is…” She pursed her lips, glanced to the side, and then back at him. “She is…busy. She broke a great many rules to be the one to bring you home.”
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