This time, because of the newly formed connection between us, I saw Circe shiver with a similar recognition, and when she glanced back at me, I nodded.
When we got to the human equivalent of a few city blocks away from our destination, she slowed. I touched her shoulder to gain her attention before I attempted my voice.
“Any idea where Clay would be?” I asked, trying to ignore the strange new squeakiness behind the bubbles in my tone.
Circe shook her head. “Unless Skyla’s had some warning about what’s going on, he’s probably at home with her.”
“Any way to get in touch with them? You said they stopped one of these incursions. We might be able to use the help.”
She flipped her tail in the equivalent of a shrug. “I can try.” She stopped the next passing mermaid and murmured something to her.
I guess mermaids don’t use cell phones.
And then we were headed up to the palace.
Here goes nothing.
Or maybe everything.
Circe
The guards who had let me pass before were no longer on duty. I didn’t know how long ago that had been—time sometimes passed differently in The Hotel than it did in other places, so it could have been days, or merely hours.
In any case, these guards also knew me, and opened the door, though they paused for a moment before allowing Zale to pass, as well.
“I’ve called for my song-sister Skyla and the human Clay, as well,” I told them. “If they come, Poseidon will want to see them, as well.” The younger of the guards frowned, but his older partner merely nodded and waved me through.
After we were both inside, I turned back, as if in an afterthought. “By the way, have either of you seen Amphitrite?”
This time, it was the younger guard who answered, even as his elder scowled at him. “She went in moments ago.”
Yeah. That one has a lot to learn.
I hope he gets the chance.
If I could keep our queen from allowing the god-monsters through to destroy us all, he would.
No pressure there, at all.
As the doors swung closed behind us, Zale swam to my side. “I can feel it,” he said shortly. “A break in reality, like the one in the library.”
“Can you lead me to it?”
He held out his hand to take mine as if to lead me to it, but the instant I touched him, the power-channel between us lit up, and I could feel the disruption in reality through him.
“Oh.” The word breathed out of me in long stream of tiny bubbles.
Zale’s eyes had grown wide, and the light they emitted had an oddly golden tinge to it.
His magic, touched with anger, I realized.
“Let’s go shut these bastards down,” he said and headed toward Poseidon’s private rooms.
Following him, I was struck by how much more powerful he was than the mermen of Atlantis, with his broad shoulders, heavy bones, and earth-developed muscles.
I remembered why the Little Mermaid had given up her voice for legs.
I might consider it, too—at least for a while.
When we reached the king’s quarters, Zale slammed the doors open. It didn’t have quite the same impact that it would have on the surface, but Amphitrite was startled, nonetheless.
“You,” she breathed when she caught sight of me behind the human-turned-merman.
“Me,” I agreed. I would have said more, but all my attention was held by the rift between worlds next to the queen.
This one was larger than the one in library, larger than the one Skyla and Clay had described seeing in Athens.
It had already begun condensing to allow the Titan through to this world.
And this was definitely the world this Titan wanted.
Amphitrite was attempting to help Oceanus break through to Atlantis.
“Why?” I asked. In the end, it was really the only important question.
“Because,” the queen of the ocean said, “this one tiny world is not enough. Oceanus offers more.”
That was it. In the end, she was willing to trade everything for simple greed. She couldn’t stand the thought of worlds out there that she didn’t control.
My heart constricted at the sheer misery of her existence.
I don’t know how long we might have stood there staring at one another if Skyla and Clay hadn’t burst through the doors behind us.
“No,” Clay wailed at the sight of his partner. “They got you, too!”
Zale clasped his friend by the shoulders. “No one got me, man. I came on my own to find you.”
Clay blinked in surprise, and Zale gave the other policeman a quick hug. “I’ll tell you about it later. We need to help get rid of this thing.” He gestured at the crack between worlds.
“Another one?” Clay shook his head. “Skyla, think you can contain this one, too?”
“If she can’t, Circe and I can.” Zale reached out for my hand, and I smiled.
“This is all very touching,” Amphitrite said, “but I don’t have time for it.” With a wrenching motion, she pulled the crevice in the water open wider.
My head spun at the leakage between the two realities, and my stomach turned. Without thinking, I grabbed Zale with my other hand, as well, and tugged him toward me. He met me halfway, his lips pressing to mine.
I had just enough time to recognize the difference between the last magic we had shared and this before it overwhelmed me in a flash of blue-green light. Everything around us slowed down, and I pulled away from Zale to glance around. I saw Skyla kissing Clay, the power sparking between them a dark, navy blue.
Behind the fracture, I could make out the giant form of Oceanus, a snarl on his face as he worked to pry open the fracture even farther.
On the other side of Clay and Skyla, Poseidon was throwing himself through the door toward Amphitrite, whether to save to attack her, I didn’t know. But if time continued to move as slowly as it was now, he would never make it to her in time.
Zale made eye contact with me. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded, a ghost of a smile crossing my face.
Amphitrite didn’t have a chance.
Neither did her Titan.
All it took was the barest touch of our palms to set off the spell we had constructed, together, without even consulting one another.
The water around Amphitrite swirled and boiled, and the mer-queen screamed once. Skyla and I lifted our voices in Siren Song, and Clay moved forward to add his power to the circle the four of us created around the fissure in reality.
At the last minute, Poseidon joined us.
I hadn’t known, really, if he would put his strength behind his wife, or throw his lot in with us. His deep bass voice joined our song.
Music and magic swept across Atlantis.
In the end, even Amphitrite’s wail became just another note in the song, and Oceanus’s curses were lost as he was swept back into his prison.
Moments later, Amphitrite followed him.
When she was gone, a whirlpool of light and sound sealed the rift, leaving behind only silence, and five mer-folk.
Zale
Two days later, all of us—minus Poseidon—sat around a table in the bar of The Hotel. Turns out the king of the ocean didn’t like to have legs.
Clay and I, on the other hand, were glad to have ours back.
Apparently, though, now that we had absorbed enough mer magic, we would be able to move back and forth between Atlantis and our own reality.
In fact, Poseidon had said something about the possibility that we had re-written our DNA. Any children either of us fathered might actually be mer.
I wasn’t entirely certain how I felt about that.
Then again, I thought as I considered the mermaid snuggled up to my side, it looked like that could end up being a possibility, anyway.
“How long had Oceanus been whispering promises to Amphitrite?” Clay asked.
Circe shrugged. “Centuries, maybe. Apparently, there’s been a smal
l gap into the prison world in Atlantis from the beginning. Amphitrite may well have arranged to have her temple built around it.”
“The song-sisters’ music is changed forever,” Skyla said mournfully. She was an odd one, with old-fashioned language and a tendency to be morose, but now that he wasn’t stuck permanently in Atlantis, Clay seemed to like her well enough.
“And what about the other incursions?” I asked. “Are we done with those?”
“No.” Circe frowned. “At least, not necessarily. Now that the Titans know there are cracks that can be exploited according to their nature, we’ll need to keep an eye out more carefully.”
“Can we use this place?” Clay asked, gesturing at The Hotel.
I knew the answer to that one. “No. Amphitrite was using it as way to track the energy from one rift to another, to help the Titans find the weak spots in reality. Now that they know what she was doing, the staff—or maybe The Hotel itself—can keep anyone else from doing that.”
“Then how shall we find the incursions?” Skyla asked.
Circe drew in a deep breath. “It’s going to be up to the four of us. If you two are willing to stay with us a little longer,” she said, glancing between me and Clay.
We had already discussed it, though.
“We need to let our department know we’re both okay,” I said. “And we will have to come up with a reasonable explanation for Clay’s absence. But we think we can take some leave to help you out.”
“I am extraordinarily glad,” Skyla said in that odd, formal way of hers—but her smile and the way she gripped Clay’s hand said more than her words.
“Thank you,” Circe said, her own gaze eloquent.
“It may take more than the four of us to keep the Titans caged,” I warned.
“Oh, I know,” Circe replied. Her serious expression changed into something more mischievous. “But before we start in on any of that, I have an idea.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She grinned. “I checked in when we got here. I think we should see which room the statues lead us to, and find out if I’m really all that cursed, after all.”
I smiled in return, waving goodbye to our friends, and stood up to follow her. “You are singing my song, sweetheart.”
About the Author
USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and New York Times bestselling author Margo Bond Collins is a former college English professor who, tired of explaining the difference between "hanged" and "hung," turned to writing romance novels instead. (Sometimes her heroines kill monsters, too.)
You can learn more about her at www.MargoBondCollins.net
The Mermaid
Tricia Schneider
The Mermaid © 2020 Tricia Schneider
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
Oscar
“Do you see those clouds?”
I stopped paddling. The ocean had been calm nearly all day which had made our journey to the island relatively easy. But the wind had picked up and the sky to the east had grown darker over the last half hour, filling with ominous clouds.
“Yeah, I see ‘em.”
As we neared the island, the water became choppy and waves crashed into our canoe, splashing onto our clothes and soaking our sneakers.
“Think we’ll make it?” Zak’s voice betrayed his worry.
“Of course, we’ll make it. Come on, keep paddling.” I wouldn’t let my best friend know how deeply worried I really was as I paddled harder, straining my muscles to push the canoe closer to the beach.
We still had several hours of daylight left. Enough to explore the island a bit before night settled in.
But I hadn’t anticipated this brewing storm. I’d checked the weather forecast before setting out on this journey. All reports claimed a beautiful sunny day for the area.
“Hold up,” I said after several minutes. “We’re almost there.” I rested my arms for a moment, breathing in the salty ocean air.
Then I grabbed my camera from the bag and glanced at Zak.
“Ready for this?”
Zak nodded.
I flipped open my camera so I could see an image of myself on the screen. A brand-new cap adorned with my OzzyGreenTV logo covered my short dark hair. My hazel eyes appeared a little greener than usual today, nearly matching the color of the t-shirt I wore. I forced a smile as I hit the red button to record.
“Hey, friends. Oz here, along with my good friend, Zak.” I spoke in my usual deep, baritone voice, focusing on appearing casual, yet as professional as possible. I angled the camera mounted on a hand-held stick so that Zak appeared on the video screen.
Zak’s black hair was darker than mine and longer. Zak also sported a short beard while I liked my clean-shaven cheeks.
Zak waved to the camera. “Hey, guys!”
“We set out from the Florida coast over an hour ago. The trip is taking longer than we expected. The water’s gotten a little rough, but you can see we’re getting closer to the island.”
Here, I flipped the camera around to show the fans the view of the island. It was a lush tropical island as many of the others scattered throughout the Florida Keys. The trees and vegetation grew thick everywhere except the sand and rock beach.
“We should be there soon,” I continued, pointing the camera to the sky. “As you can see, there’s a storm approaching. The weather lady said nothing about rain tonight, but I’m not really surprised.” I pointed the camera back to my face where the light illuminated my crooked and goofy frown. I knew I’d get a few chuckles from that puppy-dog look.
“As long as we get to the island, we’ll manage.”
“Dude, we didn’t bring a tent,” Zak said. “What if it rains?”
I angled the camera again to include my friend. I shrugged my shoulders.
“That’s all right. We’ll camp out in the mansion tonight.”
“The haunted mansion?” Zak lifted one dark eyebrow. “I thought we were going to camp on the beach.”
“Hey, if we need a roof over our heads.” Again, I shrugged. “I’d rather sleep with ghosts than on a soggy beach.”
“Maybe you should tell them about this mansion and the stories about the island.” Zak went back to paddling as I continued recording.
“Okay, yeah, well, I told you last week about this island we’re heading to tonight. Check out that video if you missed it. This is Sweetwater Key, an island where the Stanton-Gore Mansion was built over a decade ago. The story goes that the island has been haunted for centuries, going way back to when the Spaniards sailed over here.”
“Even the American Indians in this area wouldn’t come here because of the bad spirits,” Zak added in between paddling.
I nodded. “Not until the Stanton-Gore family purchased the island and decided to build a mansion on it. Their own private island getaway. But the construction of the mansion stopped halfway when mysterious accidents began happening to the workers. And strange unexplainable noises started scaring the crew. Then reports of a ghostly woman walking on the island began to circulate. One day, the crew just walked away. Left the island and refused to go back. The Stanton-Gore family never completed their dream home.”
“It must�
�ve been bad for grown men to refuse to work here. They were getting good pay for building that house, for sure.”
“Oh, yeah.” I agreed, nodding. “Okay, friends. I’ll check back with you in a little bit. We need to get to the island before it rains.”
I stopped recording and replaced the camera back in its bag, sealing it tight so it wouldn’t get wet from the spray of water that splashed into the canoe.
“Can I use some of your footage, Ozzy? I don’t want to stop to film. I think we need to hurry to this island.”
“Sure, man,” I nodded as I helped paddle once more. “This will be our best video, yet. Paddling to a haunted island. What says adventure more than this?”
My online social media channel already contained videos of me searching through abandoned houses, haunted cemeteries, and scary tunnels. A haunted island and an abandoned mansion in one video were too much for me to pass up. Even if my friends Josh and Alex had urged me not to go. At least, Zak had agreed to tag along.
Of course, Zak had his own channel to fill with content.
Josh and Alex had been here before and it hadn’t gone well for them. They’d heard voices and other eerie noises throughout the night. At one point, something unseen had pushed Josh so he nearly fell off an uncompleted wall.
But there wasn’t anything that could convince me this wasn’t a good idea. I’d risk scary ghosts to get more views and subscribers onto my channel. Especially since I started making an income from it. I didn’t want to go back to working at the gas station to make ends meet. Recording adventure videos was more to my taste. It was fun, and it paid well. I just needed to keep creative and entertaining content streaming onto my OzzyGreenTV channel. The views would follow and so would the money.
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