Hope’s eyes shined, and she moved her hand rapidly in sign after sign, while Melody shook her head. Hope turned back to him, “I don’t know much. What I know has been passed on from others. Did you ever meet the Madam Gardener while in Cathair Uisce?”
“Yes, she came to see me when I first arrived.” He pulled at some errant grass, sulking over the lack of information. “When she introduced herself, she said she had expected ‘more’ from me.”
Hope guffawed and Melody launched into a tirade of finger talk. Hope nodded now and then. The two said nothing more to Calder but leisurely kept their spots near him.
Irritated that they had given him no more information, Calder studied his surroundings. Here, the dome was only visible intermittently when he looked straight up. It pulsed every so often, rainbow colors beginning at the zenith and traveling downward in a ripple.
Finally, Gaire stepped out the hut door, followed by a silver haired woman. The older woman’s legs were covered in scales in grays and mossy green. Calder glanced at the elder curiously, but he had not paid attention to the feelings from the link.
Leading the older woman forward, Gaire smiled at Calder. “I want you to meet someone. She left Cathair Uisce after we did,” She turned her smile to the other woman, then back to him. “No, she left because we did.”
Calder stood, dusting sand from his shorts.
Gaire’s happiness shone in her eyes and hummed along their bond. She put her hand on his forearm. “In the formal manner of our people, I present Mariella, Daughter of Morvoren, Daughter of Arglwyddes, Chief Madam Gardener. She is my favorite of all the Gardeners. Her skill with coral is legendary. She fashioned beautiful gardens outside the palace.”
The other woman laughed good-naturedly. “I only did what I could. My skills do not compare to the Gardeners of old.”
Calder shook her smooth, tattooed hand. “Nice to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Mariella said.
Gaire leaned nearer. “Mariella helped explain why I needed to help you.”
“Nonsense, I know what you know to be true. I only have the added weight of experience. You will gain that immediately when you are queen.”
“Thank you.”
Calder’s eyebrows raised as Gaire’s cheeks cooled to a blue.
She pushed the thought, “She told me to call her by her name. I have never called her anything but Madam Gardener and curtsied to her throughout my life. It’s… awkward for me.”
Calder smiled at the older woman, when she took his hand, she swayed. He braced his arm to steady her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry, dears.” She scanned the worried group. Hope and Melody had also stepped forward to offer assistance. Mariella continued, “It’s been some long years since I’ve walked on the earth. It does not move as waters do and my muscles are wearied. May we sit beneath the palms?”
“I’ll be there in one moment,” thought Gaire, her expression grave. The twins followed, looking grim and nodding.
Calder led Mariella to the shade beneath the palms, easing her to the sandy beach. His attention followed Gaire. Hope spoke quickly, emphatically; Melody’s expression was also intense. What are they telling her? The bond offered no clues.
Mariella tugged on Calder. “Sit, she will come. I have something for her.” The seaweed pouch at her side opened to reveal a book. She held it out to him. “Look. I brought another piece of the puzzle for her.”
The words brought Calder back to the conversation, and he seated himself beside the mer-woman. Calder accepted the book. Strange markings had been drawn across the front, swipes and swooshes in a metallic ink.
“It says ‘Secret Annals.’ The Keeper of the Chronicles was my sister. She begged me to give it to Gaire.” A single tear sparkled as it rolled down Gaire’s face. “It arrived the same day my sister was murdered.” She swiped at the moisture on her cheek, clearing her throat, her voice turning gruff. “Help me up. I’m tired.”
He scrambled to his feet, pulling her with him, just as Gaire reached their sides. Concern wrinkled her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, dear, I’m old and prone to emotional fits.” Mariella waved toward Calder. “He has something for you. It came to me from Shalidan, Daughter of Morvoren, Daughter of Arglwyddes, The Keeper of the Chronicles. She sent it the day she died. Her note instructed to give this only to you.”
With that, the woman strolled toward the cluster of huts at the edge of the tree line. She swayed every few steps and stopped to pass her hands over plants.
Calder pressed the book into Gaire’s fingers. “The Keeper was her sister,” he said, his voice low.
Gaire nodded. “I know.” A swell of emotions filled their bond. Abruptly, the feelings dulled as Gaire collected her composure. She sniffed, wiping more tears from her eyes.
He studied her face. Now neutral, her expression gave nothing away. “Well? Tell me about your meeting.”
“They want me for queen. I do things nobody else can.” She sighed. “It nearly killed me once.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think the Mother Mistress wants to give up her throne?”
Calder nodded. “Makes sense. It’s in all the movies back home. Power corrupts.”
“We should see a movie when we visit again. I’ve never seen a movie.”
“You’ll have a lot to do here.” His voice trailed away, thinking of Mike, wondering how to broach the subject with her. I have to save him and then I can come back and be wholly here. “Gaire.”
“I told them I cannot accept.” Her words sped out all at once, racing to say what she wanted before he could say anything else.
Incredulous, Calder tilted his head, “What?” For me?
“I told them I cannot accept,” she repeated, this time slowly and more clearly. She met his eyes. “I want to save your friend.”
Relief sagged through him. “Oh.” Calder hadn’t realized how much he had hoped she wouldn’t choose the colony over Mike. Mentally, he jubilated. “Are they angry?”
She shrugged. “I gave them no choice. They accepted my terms. I will be queen, for good or bad, even I have read enough of the histories to understand what it means when a woman has the blessing of strong gifting.”
A sheepish look graced her cheeks. “I never counted on it manifesting in me. Or that the Mother Mistress would have me banished or send someone to murder me as I fled.”
Slowly, the words registered, as the gravity of them fell, Calder scowled. He frowned at Gaire. Beneath furrowed brows, he pinned her with a fierce look, clenching and unclenching his teeth. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”
Drooping shoulders accompanied her defeated sigh. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“What happened when those guards dragged you away?”
“Well…” She swallowed. “I received a vanishing message summoning me to the Library. It was signed by the Keeper, but when I arrived, she was bent forward over her desk. Her eyes already stared into tomorrow. A pool of blood covered the desk beneath her, and a whale bone knife protruded from her back. I tried to heal her…” Gaire’s eyes were a mask of horror as she remembered. Sadness flicked in Calder’s mind.
She continued, “When I realized it was useless, I fled. In my room, I could not think of what to do. Murder between mermaids has not happened for nearly a thousand years. The last atrocities were the unexplained mermaid death on the Isle of Benbecula, followed by the genocide of the Blue Men of Minch. But mermaids did not cause those.”
The Secret Annals given by the Gardener entered Calder’s mind. That may not be accurate. “Go on.”
Love shone in her eyes. “It was the desperation after the deaths of our men that led us to seek new ways to bear our sons….” She caressed his face, her palm moving down from his cheek to follow his jawline.
Calder smiled, leaning into her touch, but not dissuaded. “Gaire, I need to know.”
Her hand fell, and her voice took on a
tremble, “Before I could decide what to do, the soldiers came crashing in. They asked no questions, caught me, and… and… beat me.” She covered her face with her hands. “It hurt, but mostly, I was terrified that you would try to save me. They would have killed you. And I would have died.”
Calder shook his head. “No, you would have lived, found a new mate, been happy.”
A sad laugh filled the breeze. “Maybe, but Queens rarely live past the dying of their mates. The connections are too strong, the wound too large to learn to live around.”
Calder said nothing as the words sank in. Venora had wanted to capture Gaire and use him to hurt her. “You mean my death might actually kill you?”
“Probably.” The breeze played with her hair, but Calder intervened, catching his fingers in the dark tresses.
“After that…” Her voice trembled as she began anew…
Chapter 17
Previously
Gaire sat in the corner of the cell, knees tucked against her chest. Shadowy pools of darkness filled the spaces between the nebulous light cast by the oil lamps, making the roughly hewn jail cell only dimly lit. She shivered.
Cold or shock?
Gaire searched her mind for Calder. When the merman brought his sword hilt down on the back of Calder’s head, the pain exploded in hers. Calder had crumpled to the pavement, his thoughts a void. She was probably too far. Gaire still could not sense his thoughts, and distance played a part in the sensitivity at the beginning.
Stay alive, Calder.
The sound of approaching footsteps sent her scrambling to her bare feet, gasping through the sharp pain stabbing through her ribs and throbbing face. A lopsided grimace stretched her bloodied lips, one side of her mouth more swollen than the other. The faint echo that followed each footstep accentuated the distance Gaire felt from her kind.
An ugly featured man, his mouth pulled into a sneer, stopped in front of the iron bars. His deep voice bounced off the sparse floors and walls. Unrolling a scroll, he asked, "Are you Gaire, daughter of Maridian, daughter of the Warm Waters?”
Gaire considered. She should answer no, just because…
The thought of yet another beating stayed her disagreement. She placed the soles of her feet upon the floor, pulling herself to her to stand, even while hiding the pain. Her shoulders straightened, “I am she.”
He barely gave her a second glance, but continued reading from the scroll, “Gaire, daughter of Maridian, daughter of the Warm Waters, you have been convicted of the murder of the Shalidan, Daughter of Morvoren, Daughter of Arglwyddes, The Keeper of the Chronicles.”
His hands lowered. “Murder between sisters has not been seen for a millennia. Yet the Queen Mother Mistress has found forgiveness in her heart, and she does not give you death.” Lifting the scroll once more, he continued, “Gaire, daughter of Maridian, daughter of the Warm Waters, you are hereby banished from Cathair Uisce. May the Fates accept you, smooth the rough shoals, and wash you in gentle waves.”
Two more guards filed in. Dressed in full armor, the light from the lamps glinted on the breastplates, and the sound of old keys rattled in the room. One slammed into the lock, followed by the click and creak of old mechanisms.
The sounds brought a bevy of flinches that Gaire could not control, still bearing the marks from the last meeting with her kind. When the guards entered the cell, she started to tremble and her teeth chattered.
The soldiers’ fingers grasped Gaire’s upper arms, pinching hard. They pulled her in front of them with a growled, “Let’s go.”
Joined by another twenty guards waiting just outside the jail, they poked and prodded her through the city. Sneers decorated the faces of her country-women, pushing Gaire’s head lower and lower. At the edge of the membrane, the pincer-like grip lessened. A swift kick and she was booted through to the circular pad.
Righting her posture, she turned to study the city behind her.
Home, no longer.
She prayed beneath closed lids. Jumping upward, she pressed her legs together. As soon as the blue glow disappeared, she began flexing her morphed fin in a fast swim.
Several hours later, Gaire’s trajectory crossed a reef. Feeling the need for rest, she found a comfortable place between the flowering polyps. Tucking herself in between the bright colors, the water swirled around her. Large waves crashed far above her head while evil, murdering queens haunted her dreams. Sleep was light.
“She must be here somewhere.”
Unfamiliar thoughts crashed through, shattering Gaire’s dream of Calder. Startled, she pressed herself flatter against the reef. Without moving, she listened.
“Here, somewhere, let’s get this over with.” A dark figure passed over. Gaire did not recognize the masculine silhouette. Another figure swam in from the right, then a third from the left.
They crisscrossed the reef, running their search in a grid, as Gaire tried to remain hidden. I can’t beat three. Not three. I can’t fight three. Still hunting, their minds played with the ideas of their intention and their rewards, there was no doubt murder was on their minds. Panic clutched at her throat.
One, I could fight, but three? Run. I have to run.
Just as she prepared to launch forward in a break-neck swim, a silver arrow flew past her hiding place. With a dull thump, it landed in the bare chest of the dark merman. Blood puffed from the wound, and his face mirrored Gaire’s surprise.
What was that? She ducked deeper into the arms of the reef. Did that make a fourth? Another arrow flew in, striking a second male in the dorsal. The bolt squarely centered in the fin, pinning him to the reef beneath.
Gaire still could not see the source of the attacks. If I stay, I’ll be next. And with that, she launched herself from her hiding place and swam hard. When she looked over her should to view her pursuers, she could see that the pinned mermaid had not yet been killed, and another came after Gaire. She let out a scream, the gurgle filling the reef.
The farther she swam, the less safe she was, with the would-be murderer in a determined pursuit. When two silver armored figures swam up behind Gaire, she screamed again, pulling a belt knife from her pouch.
Rounding on the two new threats, she found the identical mermaids swimming back toward the reef. They met the oncoming warrior with a clang of swords and metal. The new development pulled Gaire back to the reef’s edge, where she watched them battle against a skilled merman.
When it became clear that he would not win, he lifted his hands in defeat. “I do not wish to die here today,” he said.
The two lowered their swords. One asked, “A truce, then?”
“Yes, I will return to Cathair Uisce with my deed undone.”
“You do that,” growled one, waving a sword dangerously close to man’s bearded neck. With that, the warrior fled, leaving two smiling women, one calling insults behind him.
The altercation completed, Gaire carefully approached her saviors. “H-h-hello?” She swam slowly, studying their posture, and searching her sixth sense for anything.
“Gaire, daughter of Maridian, daughter of the Warm Waters?”
“Yes, I am Gaire.” There was a shift in the emotions of the twins – from cautious to respectful. The change made Gaire uncomfortable.
“We were sent to find you, and we will escort you to our city. My name is Hope.”
Not answering, Gaire frowned at the speaking sister, scrutinizing first Hope, then the other.
“She does not speak?” It was said as mostly statement, but with a hint of question. I wonder…
“What is your name?” She pressed the thought toward the quiet sister.
Though the mermaid kept her features schooled, Gaire still felt awe in her words. “My name is Melody, Mother Mistress.”
“Could they not heal you?”
“They could not heal what they did not have. My enemy cut out my tongue and kept it as a prize.”
Hope watched the two, giving no answer. Gaire gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Melody.”
Hope’s face now wore the frown. “How did you know her name is Melody?”
Gaire pressed her lips together, considering, then said, “Melody told me.”
A smile exploded on Hope’s face, white teeth brightly flashing. “Then what they say must be true.” She paused, waving excited hand signals to Melody, who began nodding. “Please come with us, your Majesty.”
Chapter 18
Calder listened quietly as Gaire finished the story. When she stopped speaking, Calder squeezed her against him.
Thank god you’re safe.
While his death might kill her, he knew with certainty that her death would kill him, either by the insanity it wrought or through the wasting of heart and soul.
The end had been so near. He imagined a merman holding a sickle, draped in a black cloak.
“That is not a nice picture,” Gaire interjected. “Paint something else.”
Calder didn’t answer, but brought forth a beach scene he had been working on days before the car accident. A boy played on the beach while a dark-haired woman with flowing hair unloaded a picnic basket.
“Much better,” she pronounced.
“Gaire? Will your people accept me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m an orphan. You’re a queen.”
She snuggled against him. “Don’t be silly. You are mer. And you are mine. We are fated. We are mates. That is all that matters.” She tapped the arm he stretched across her chest.
He didn’t agree, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this would become another instance where he didn’t quite measure up. But he didn’t have Mike to buoy his spirits anymore.
“It’s time to go,” Gaire said.
Calder relaxed his grip, finding his way to his feet, and then knocking the sand from his lower half. With a sly grin, he began dusting Gaire’s legs and bottom. When all the sand had disappeared, his strokes became more and more suggestive, until she caught his hand.
“Not now.”
The sound of a throat clearing startled him, and Calder’s eyes flew open, meeting the white irises of Hope with Melody close behind.
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