Calder whistled quietly. “Where’d you learn that?”
Gaire shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wake up and know I can do something new.” She spun toward him. “I haven’t told anyone, so I’m not sure what it all means.”
Calder only nodded, but his thoughts drifted back to the visit from the Gardener and the note from the Keeper. When this is over, I have to tell her about the note. Gaire led him through the small gate and carefully down a corkscrew staircase. The way was narrow and steep.
Sweat break out on his forehead, as he fought against images from his drowning. He sucked air inward, gasping, choking out a cough then clearing his throat to cover the sound. Gaire didn’t show any response.
He hoped she wouldn’t notice.
The stairs opened into another small cave-like room. Water pooled on the ceiling, several inches thick, rotating in a circular stream. Despite normal gravity, it flowed from the perimeter toward the center to collect on a stalactite, dripping only from that one spot into the white basin. The bowl sat on a stalagmite formed out of the floor.
“Looks like a bird bath,” Calder murmured.
Gaire turned, vertical wrinkles showing between her eyebrows. “Birds have baths?”
Calder chuckled. “Yes, yes, they do. They even have saunas,” he joked.
“Saunas? What is a sauna?”
“Never mind.” Calder shook his head. “What do we do here?”
Gaire nudged Calder forward. He didn’t move. The walls closed in again, like fingers wrapping around his neck, squeezing.
Gaire studied his expression, her gaze growing soft. She caressed his cheek, wrapped her hands around his face, and eased him to her. She pressed her lips against his forehead, murmuring, “Poor Calder.” Coolness bathed his body, and his anxiety ebbed. “Rest easy, beloved.”
Calder caught her face, staring into the green depths of her eyes. The irises were ringed in the blue glow of her magic. “Thank you.” His whisper grated against the silence in the hold.
She tugged gently, coaxing him forward. “Anything for you.” She stopped before the pedestal and basin, placing her on either side, she leaned forward. Without turning, she whispered, “If you come closer, you can watch.”
Calder stepped nearer, feeling his scaled calves brush against hers. “The water is so clear,” he said.
“Mmm-hmmm,” was her only answer, and he did not speak again, sensing her concentration. A glow brightened, forming in her hands then covering the Looking Well like a cloud of light. The drips halted, and his heartbeat slowed.
Suddenly, pictures washed across the Looking Well. Calder gasped when the bridge hurried by. His mind filled with the flight through San Francisco. Seagulls called, cars honked, and they flew through the city, recognizing places. The restaurant… Then on to a gym, finally, the movement slowed. The view lowered over a lone man on the beach.
Mike looked haggard – a scraggly beard, unkempt hair, dirty sweats over tennis shoes. “Oh, no…” Calder breathed. “Does he know we’re watching?”
Gaire shook her head, whispering, “No, those we watch cannot tell.”
Mike’s voice filled the concrete room. It echoed. “My parents were murdered… Red car found in the Bay… accident… No bodies. Cal, where did you go?”
From behind Mike, a voice slurred, “You ready to go in, ssssweetheart?”
Calder’s stomach twisted. No, it can’t be.
Gaire slumped forward with a gasp. The glow winked out, and a steady drip, drip, drip hit the back of her head. A moment later, she straightened.
Calder’s shoulders shook, and he wiped moisture from his cheeks.
Droplets ran down her face, streaking her cheeks in tear-like trails. “Oh, Calder, I’m so sorry.”
Chapter 14
Calder spent the night pacing, staring between the gaps in the walls, turning, walking across the room to stare out the other opening. Back and forth, he went.
He was not greeted by a giant orb peaking over the horizon in the midst of a spectacular sunrise, but the light inside the dome changed. More mer walked the streets, visiting the shops, laughing, and smiling. The guards at the gates were relieved by others, mermaids this time.
With any luck, he could find a way to get back to Mike, take care of Venora, and be back to Gaire before a half turn passes. Remembering the words from the Keeper, he frowned. No, she must come with me. I have to keep her safe. How will I convince her?
Calder’s stomach grumbled. Exiting his room, he turned to the right toward Gaire’s quarters. His bare feet made no sound.
Across the garden square, two male guards stood, one on either side of her door, each holding one golden spear. Passers-by noticed the guards, whispered to each other, but continued on. The fierce faces focused straight ahead, beards well-groomed but grown mid-chest. White coated scientists went in and out.
As he lifted his foot to take a step forward, two additional male guards came out leading Gaire. Bindings held her wrists, bruises purpled her cheeks and chin, the white of one eye showed the bright blue of ruptured blood vessels. Scrapes covered her shoulders. As she was led down the lane, she faced away, and Calder caught sight of several angry streaks striping her back. The skin puckered on either side of each lash.
Calder’s temper snapped, spilling rage through his belly. The edges of his vision grew black, his senses heightened, and his view of Gaire exploded to fill his sight. He huffed, blood pulsing in his muscles.
I can take them. 1… 2…
Gaire cried, “No!” She dropped beneath the arms of her captors, spinning around in a crouched position, she looked directly into Calder’s eyes.
The shock halted Calder’s attack and surprise caught his feet. How did she know he was right here? He didn’t know whether to go or stay.
Her words came to his mind, even as her lips shaped the sounds, “Run, beloved.”
A sharp pain exploded behind his eyes, quickly dulling to a throb, followed by a flood of information… Land Lost… Venora… Conspiracy… Murder…
The guards locked their arms beneath Gaire’s. They raised her up, using their height lifting her completely off the ground. She kicked her legs, but it did nothing to halt their progress.
Ignoring Gaire’s instruction, Calder launched himself toward the quartet of guards, roaring, “Get away from her.”
Gaire screamed, begging him to leave her.
He leapt onto the back of the nearest, wrapping his arm around the thick neck. “You cannot have her. She is mine.”
Clawing at the face of the merman, Calder pushed his fingers into the eye sockets while kicking the back of his knee. Loosing hold of Gaire, the guard fell to his knees with a cry of pain.
Gaire screeched, “Calder, look out!”
A blinding pain exploded in the back of his head, toppling him into unconsciousness. Reality slipped away.
When Calder came to, Gaire had been dragged away. No more mer-guards were in sight. He had been left face down on the paving stones. None had come to help him.
How long had he been out?
The artificial light shared no clues, and Calder propped himself against the statute, once more in the foliage. He pressed his fist into his mouth, fighting nausea as the city spun around him. He focused on the pain and ignored the information Gaire had pressed into his mind. Then he jogged back to his room to plan his next course of action.
Where have they taken my mate?
Gaire was gone. Gone. Calder’s stomach twisted, and tremors rolled through him.
The Keeper, she must be able to help me.
He left his room, locking the door behind him, placing the leather cord around his neck. The antique key settled beneath his white shirt.
Though the library was not far, Calder flinched each time a mer-person glanced his way. He expected a pointing finger and screams of “Arrest him!” It felt as though every person either avoided his gaze or stared. He chided himself for his paranoia.
Gaire had b
een arrested, not him.
When he reached the library, the doors were closed, locked, and barricaded. A white parchment had been nailed to the wood, but the symbols swirling across the page in a glowing ink meant nothing to him. He tugged on the brass handles to no avail. A merman passed behind him.
Calder spun. “Sir?”
The man kept walking. The black scales on his legs shimmered like a shadow in the daylight.
“Sir?” Calder asked again. This time, he tapped on the tattooed shoulder.
The stranger rounded on him.
Meeting the unfamiliar eyes, Calder started at the black eyeballs. “Why is the library closed? Where is the Keeper?”
Disgust flashed across the man’s face. “Why wouldn’t it be closed, man? Do you think anyone can replace her?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s dead, murdered by one of our own, murdered at the hands of Gaire, daughter of Maridian, daughter of the Warm Waters.”
The accusation punched Calder in the stomach. The stranger sneered at Calder and then hurried away.
Calder sucked at the air. No, no, no, Gaire couldn’t. His thoughts tumbled over one another, and the nausea returned. Venora has Mike. And I don’t know anything about how to do anything.
Stumbling, he returned to his room.
Calder slammed his fists down on the desk. He couldn’t stay there and do nothing. Opening the mahogany door of the armoire, he found one pair of breeches, a white ruffled shirt, and he stuffed them in a brown leather bag that had been shoved into the corner of the cabinet.
He took papers, books, the corked inkwell, and also put them in his bag. He gingerly slid two quills and a small knife into the front pocket. Finding no other items that could double as a weapon and be easily carried, he closed the satchel and slipped it over his body. The knife would have to do.
Wishing for boots to soften the roughness of the reef, he prepared to run. The soles of his feet prickled. A splash of cold drenched him.
A reddish glow surrounded his feet. Calder high-stepped across the room, trying desperately to walk out of the glow, but the light followed. When it faded, soft leather boots greeted him.
Calder let out a surprised, “Oh.” Satisfaction spread across his face. “Ha. Might be easier to run now,” he muttered to himself.
He was startled to find two guards on either side of his exit. They were identical to the ones outside Gaire’s. They did not move. He slid forward, but with a metallic ting, the spears crossed in his path.
Calder shoved the metal shafts away. “This is ridiculous. You can’t hold me captive.”
Without turning his head, the black-bearded guard spoke. “Mr. Brumen, by order of the Mother Mistress, you are confined to quarters pending an investigation into the murder of the Keeper of the Chronicles.”
Calder took two steps backwards. “Thank you for the update.” He accentuated the words with the slam of the door.
Now what?
Stomping to the window, he studied the exterior of his accommodations. The wall was too tall to jump. It wouldn’t help if he broke both legs trying to escape. He studied the bed sheets, but they were too slick to stay tied together. Hours passed.
A soft knock brought Calder rushing forward with the small knife.
Holding a tray of food, a startled mer-woman appeared, splashed with pink below her waist and hundreds of freckles above. He lowered the knife. As quickly as she had come, she left, leaving the unappealing finger foods. Lifting the gold cloche, he found a piece of paper placed beneath a seaweed roll.
Words slashed across the page in a hasty scrawl. “Help will come. Be watchful.” After he read the missive, the paper disappeared in a puff.
Pushing himself back to his feet, he returned to the window to begin the scrutiny of the mer- faces. He had to do something—anything. As darkness finally fell, the hustle and bustle of merfolk tapered off. When the streets had emptied, Calder still stared.
What could he do?
Two harsh knocks interrupted his thoughts.
A cry sounded from outside his window, setting his heart into a galloping beat. He jumped to his feet, scooping up a broken chair leg from the ground. From outside, there was the low trill of a mourning dove.
That wasn’t right. Mourning doves didn’t live under water.
He jogged to the door, pressing his ear against it. He gripped the knife. Odd, I wond-
But his thought was interrupted once more by two sharp knocks on the door. He yanked his head back and wrenched the door wide. It slammed against the wall with a loud thwack.
Before him stood two identical women covered in silver armor. Taking one step backward, he considered the two before him and he sank to a defensive stance, wielding the club.
“Who are you?” he demanded. When they did not answer, his upper lip flexed in a snarl. He repeated, “Who are you?”
“Your rescuers.”
“That doesn’t answer the question. Who are you?”
This time, the two warriors stepped forward as one. “We don’t have time to explain. The warriors will soon be upon us.”
Calder noticed their feet. “Sandals? They don’t wear shoes here. Who are you? Where do you come from?” He asked, tilting his chin to the side, fight no longer first in his mind.
The blonde on the right nodded, “Cold Water, come, we are taking you to Gaire.”
Relief crowded his heart. “She’s alive?”
The nod came quickly. “Yes, but we must hurry.”
He planted his feet. He cast a mutinous look at them. “Where is she?”
“We do not have time. They are coming.”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me.” And then, clenching and unclenching his jaw, he stooped to pick up a short sword that had fallen from one of the prone soldiers. Moving it from hand to hand, he tested the balance. “Answer me. Now.”
Identical irritation shone on their faces, but they answered solemnly. “Gaire is waiting for you on the main isle of the Land Lost.”
He scooped up the messenger bag and ran after the fleet footed twins.
The blondes positioned themselves one ahead and one behind. They urged him to run faster and faster, down and away from the quarters toward the outer edges of the mer-city dome. Approaching an exterior pad, he looked about for the guard normally stationed nearby. Multiple sets of footsteps chased them, accompanied by the clatter of swords and shields.
Each stride brought them closer to the edge of the city.
They were almost free of danger.
From the left, a dark figure sprang through the air. In his peripheral vision, a fierce snarl, punctuated with pointed white teeth, was plastered across the face of a merman. Calder ducked. The warrior sensed the counter move and grasped at the air with his arms, keeping himself from sailing over the red bearded man.
The momentum tumbled them both over, crashing against the dead reef. Calder felt bits of skin break away from his shoulder as it grated along the roughly dimpled surface. At his groan, the merman rolled over, landing a jab to Calder’s chin, then sinking his fingers around Calder’s neck.
Pressure pushed outward from behind Calder’s eyes, forcing them against the sockets. He forced his palms together, fingers straight, wedging them between the forearms of his attacker. Once through, the grip on his throat lessened and with the balls of his feet, Calder pushed off the ground, twisting to the right.
The man launched over Calder, landing head first in a bench. Calder rolled, preparing for another attack, but the guard moved no more.
Coughing and gasping, Calder pulled himself upright. “Ready?”
They nodded simultaneously. The speaking one said, “You won. Now we must hurry.”
They turned away from the city, but before stepping through the membrane, they removed their sandals, snapping them together and hooking them just below the back plate of their armor.
Stepping through, they jumped together, each pressing their legs against the other to
initiate the morph into fins. They hovered in the water, medusa-like strands of blond hair floating away, waiting.
Calder cursed below his breath. “I haven’t done this yet.” He turned to look behind him. A detachment of about twenty-five armored warriors were charging down the hill, armor flashing, scales winking in a rainbow of shades.
Panic flooded Calder, slowly creeping up from his toes. It felt like the water filling the car. “That’s a lot of water out there, ladies.”
He grimaced and then tried to laugh, but it sounded choked. Strangled, he thought. The pressure mounted in his chest. He imagined the darkness of the bay pressing down on him, staring into the moonlight.
Sweat formed on his forehead. Looking over his shoulder, the warriors were nearly upon him. Lines appeared between their brows, and they pressed their lips into lines. They waved him through the membrane, but he could not move.
While the quiet one gestured frantically, the other yelled at him. “Calder.”
Sounds of armor on running soldiers drew nearer. Mer-people stood in the streets watching. Squeezing his eyes closed, he heard swords pulled from sheaths.
Death by the sword or death by drowning?
He swallowed, his throat dry. He had a dry throat and about to drown. He pushed another stream of curses between his lips. Bile gurgled in his stomach.
Glancing toward the waiting rescuers, he bellowed, “Now or never.”
He jumped through the clear surface, leaping away and upward. A peculiar feeling swirled in his legs. Surrounded by a bright orange glow, his two legs became a single muscular fin. “Let’s go.”
Before fleeing, each she-warrior pulled a ball from the pouch at their waists. Throwing them toward the dome, they exploded in a large cloud of cloudy sediment.
“Now, we go, Cold Water.”
The three swam south.
If he discovered they had lied, Calder vowed to end them both.
Chapter 15
Gliding through the water, the identicals pulled several cylinders from their pouches. They made breaking motions between their hands, followed by shaking the short sticks. A familiar snapping sound preceded the bright glow.
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