Sigyn's Song

by Meg Trotter

  Copyright © 2020 Meg Trotter

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  To my perfectionism:

  I win this round. See you for the next book.

  Chapter 1

  A spiky black sea urchin scuttled along the sea floor in search of food, leaving faint wisps of silt curling up behind it as it went. Maera adjusted her course with a gentle flip of her gray tail and drifted over the creature that was no wider than her palm. She smirked over her shoulder at where her sister Jersti trailed behind.

  It looks like you, Maera clicked deep in her throat.

  Jersti only gave the urchin a brief glance as she drifted over. Her attention kept flicking from the expanse of open water overhead to the wide walls of the Rift on either side of them. The rocky gash in the ocean floor opened up wider here than back at home, where the narrow cliffs gave shelter from large predators. Here, it revealed a muddy sea floor great for hunting small prey, but also with the increased danger of being hunted themselves. Jersti gave a shake of her head, sending the short green spikes on her own scalp rippling. We shouldn’t be out here, she clicked back.

  Maera huffed and batted away one of the long, gray octopus-like tendrils that grew from her own head. Stop worrying. We’re fine. She tapped the scent spots that dotted her nose. There’s nothing out here bigger than us right now. I’ve got a great sense of smell, so I’d know if—

  A low vibration in the water interrupted. Jersti squeaked and launched herself into her sister’s arms, while the tentacles on Maera’s head flared in alarm. However, when it sounded again, she realized what it was. Whales. Jersti recognized the sound the same instant as her sister. She peeled herself off Maera with a huff. Nothing out here bigger than us, huh? Your nose is terrible.

  Maera gave her sister a playful shove and tilted her head back to look up. The walls of the Rift rose large and imposing on either side of them, but up at the top of the formations she thought she saw a hint of a shadow above them. In the total near darkness of their deep sea home, it was hard to tell. Let’s go see.

  The bioluminescent spots along Jersti’s tail flickered pale blue in alarm. What? Maera, no. We can’t go up there.

  With a flick of her fin, Maera pushed away from her sister and headed toward the side of the cliff, then shot upward. Small crustaceans and fish scattered as she hugged the wall and glided to a stop at the lip. Her tentacles kept rising with the momentum, and she reached out her hand and smoothed them back down against her neck. Best to keep a low profile this close to open sea. Maera poked her head over the edge. She sensed the enormous presence a few moments before she saw it.

  The massive body glided past, making her feel no bigger than a minnow. Maera glimpsed barnacles and sucker fish clinging to the smooth hide as the creature went by, sending off a long note of a song. Maera raised up just enough to let her fingers trail over the whale’s smooth stomach. The vibrations of the song traveled through her fingertips and halfway down her arm.

  She ducked back down to put space between herself and the whale’s tail as it passed overhead. The left side of the tail had a pale splotch on it somewhat in the shape of a sea urchin. In the distance, Maera could just make out the shadows of several more whales. One of them picked up the song that the first had started. Then another and another until the whole space echoed with the sound. Maera crossed her arms over the lip of the Rift and rested her chin on them, transfixed by the music that vibrated her down to her core.

  When a pause in the song came, she tried copying the sounds in her own throat. Her notes didn’t have the same resonance as the ones echoing in the whale’s massive chest, but they were similar. Similar enough to attract the creature’s attention. The whale nearest to her rotated until its massive eye turned on her. She shied away from it, but when it seemed merely curious, she repeated the sound, a little louder.

  A pause. And then the whale crooned the same notes back at her. Maera grinned. She raised up a little higher and sang a different pattern of notes. The whale repeated them, trilling them loudly in its throat. And then a second whale repeated them.

  Maera! clicked Jersti from somewhere below. Maera ignored her sister and sang the pattern of notes again, adding a few more just to see if the whales would echo it. This time the whole pod picked up the tune, reflecting it back to her, adding their own embellishments as they did.

  Maera! Jersti’s cry was more screech than squeak now. Come back, please!

  Maera blew out a few bubbles of frustration. She hesitated only a moment more before pushing away from the edge of the Rift and heading back down into its depths. As she neared the sea floor, she let her bioluminescent tail spots shimmer to warn her sister of her approach in the dark waters. Jersti let out a relieved sigh when she saw her, sending up a small stream of bubbles.

  The whale song echoed overhead, still mimicking Maera’s invented tune. The pang in Maera’s chest at leaving them flared into annoyance. Honestly, she clicked, you’re such a baby. You’re the older sister. I should be the one following you around and ruining your fun.

  Jersti wilted a little at this, and Maera felt a twist of guilt wrap around her annoyance. Her sister had every reason to be skittish, and Maera knew it. All it took was one mistake out here for the sea to claim your life. They’d had five other sisters plus a mother who had learned that lesson the hard way over the last few decades. It seemed almost a miracle that both she and Jersti had survived over one hundred years so far — an even bigger miracle to think their grandmother was nearly four hundred.

  Maera huffed and flicked her tail to position herself back toward the way they’d come. She pushed down her annoyance as much as she could, knowing it was unreasonable. It wasn’t really her sister she was mad at anyway. Though she wasn’t exactly sure what she was angry with instead. Large predators? The Rift? Life itself?

  Come on, Maera clicked. Let’s just go home.

  They made the journey back in silence, Maera brooding and Jersti pouting. The walls of the Rift narrowed as they got closer to home. Maera felt herself relaxing her guard, however she with this came a heavier melancholy that settled over her as they glided into the deeper shadows of the massive rocks. In addition to blocking large predators, this narrow section of the Rift also blocked out anything new or interesting floating out in the open waters. Maera wasn’t sure how much she agreed with accepting mind-numbing boredom in exchange for safety.

  However, this time when Maera entered the narrow strip of the Rift that marked the boundary of their territory, she did find something new. It was deserted. The pod was usually active around this time, poking their heads out of their caverns to share food and swap gossip. Her pod was still here — Maera could feel the subtle hum of their energy all around. However, they were all hidden away inside their caverns.

  Maera and Jersti exchanged concerned looks. As they passed through, an elderly male poked his head out of the shadows of his cavern. Girls, you need to get home, he clicked.

  Maera paused at the tension in his words. Why? What’s happening?

  A rouge pod, Princess.

  Maera’s hand went to the rough scar on her shoulder — a remnant of the last time an aggressive pod of males had come through. It had left her bloody and two of her older sisters dead. She flicked her fin and hurried further down the narrow corridor of the Rift. Jersti slowed to enter their own cavern, but Maera swam on by. Her sister squeaked and hurried after her. Where are you going? she asked.

  I want to check on grandma, Maera replied. Their grandmother had chosen a living space a littl
e ways away from the others, though still close enough to have some measure of protection by the group. She didn’t enjoy living in close quarters, she insisted any time Maera’s father tried to get her to move closer to the pod. She’d be one of the most vulnerable if things turned ugly with the strangers.

  Once at the proper cavern, Maera gripped the edges of the rock and propelled herself inside, determined to convince her grandmother to come back with her to a more protected place until the danger passed. They’d only gone a little way into the tunnel when Maera heard voices. She stopped short, holding up her hand to signal to her sister to do the same.

  You look unwell, her grandmother was saying to someone. Too thin. You’ve been neglecting yourself.

  I didn’t come down here for a scolding, old woman, snapped an unfamiliar voice. Have you seen him or not?

  Maera waited for her grandmother to snap back at this rude visitor, but after a short disapproving silence, she said, I have not. Not in several tides, anyway. He may have headed south. Warmer waters that way.

  He was never fond of the cold. The stranger sighed, losing some of the aggression from their voice. I shouldn’t have waited so long since my last visit. I just ... don’t want to attract too much attention. If they found out I come down here to see him- The stranger paused.

  There was silence, then her grandmother’s voice raised. Girls? Is that you?

  Maera frowned at being scented so soon. She pushed further inside where the tunnel of rock opened up into a larger space. Her grandmother peered back at her in disapproval. She was a petite mermaid who also sported tentacles on her head, though hers were closer to black than the faint blue-gray of Maera’s.

  An unfamiliar mermaid floated in the corner of the cavern, looking annoyed at being interrupted. A black fringe of what looked like delicately thin tentacles floated around her head, brushing at her shoulders. Protruding from the mermaid’s forehead was a small teardrop of luminescence supported on a thin stalk — similar to the angler fish that swam in some of the deepest of waters. Her tail was a pale silvery blue. An unusual color. She raised an eye-ridge at Maera’s inspection of her.

  Maera’s grandmother swam between them, abruptly blocking the stranger from view. You’re back. Thank the gods. She shook her head and her tentacles drifted up around her shoulders in loose curls. Honestly, such foolishness. I can’t believe you girls have been out exploring when there are dangerous males about. What were you doing?

  Nothing, Maera said, Just ... visiting one of our cousins.

  The stranger snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. Your cousin a whale? You stink of them.

  Maera’s grandmother frowned deeper, and Maera shot a glare over at the stranger. You two! snapped her grandmother, blocking Maera’s view of the other mermaid again. Out far enough to get close to whales? What in the name of all the gods were you thinking?

  Jersti’s bottom lip quivered. Maera changed the subject before her sister could start crying. We came to check on you when we heard about the males. Do you want to come over to our cave so you’re closer to the pod until they leave?

  I’m well enough protected here, thank you, she snapped. She glanced at the other mermaid. The stranger adverted her eyes and blew out a few bubbles with an annoyed expression, but didn’t comment. Maera looked between the two in confusion. If her grandmother thought this skinny stranger was going to be able to protect her against a group of rouge males, she had to be losing her mind.

  Jersti recovered from her scolding enough to ask, Where’s father? I thought he might be here with you.

  Her grandmother shook her head. Those males arrived at our borders just moments ago. Your father went out to meet them.

  Maera’s tail spots flickered in alarm. They’re here now? Without waiting for an answer, she turned and shot out of the cavern, ignoring the protests of her grandmother and the distressed squeaks of her sister.

  Maera headed up toward the lip of the Rift again, straining her senses for clues about what she might find. Once she got high enough, the rogue group was easy enough to scent out. This was her pod’s territory, and the unfamiliar smell of the intruders was like a flashing light in the dark water. Maera found a group of six large males facing down her father and two other older mermen not too far from the lip of the Rift. A school of small silver fish swam around them, lazily munching on the particles drifting by.

  Things weren’t out of hand yet, but she could see from everyone’s posture that this peace was a tentative one. Last time there had been a confrontation, she’d been too young to do anything. This time she was of age to choose a mate. She could use that to her family’s advantage.

  She scanned the group of males, marking the largest one who seemed to be the leader. The bioluminescent lights along his black tail glowed faintly red instead of the typical blue of Maera’s people. He was from the East. His smooth, gray head sported a thin dorsal fin that started above his forehead and trailed down to just below his neck. His upper torso sported a handful of light scars here and there, trophies from previous battles. Battles won, most likely, from the looks of him. He was rough and overly aggressive. Too hard for Maera to manipulate.

  Her gaze slid to the male next to him. Not as large, this one had three short fins on his head, and a less intense expression. His body leaned away from the male speaking to her father. He was high up enough in the pod’s hierarchy to be flanking the leader, but confronting Maera’s father was making him uneasy. He was her best bet.

  Maera took a steadying breath and pushed off the edge of the Rift. Her father scented her first and let off a warning rumble without turning around as she approached. She ignored it. The fish scattered at her approach, but reformed their school behind the rogue pod.

  Father, Maera said, clicking the word loudly for the benefit of the opposing males. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. She looked over her shoulder as if just noticing the males for the first time. Oh, we have visitors. She smiled at them, letting her gaze drift back to the target male twice, as if she’d noticed him especially. The male noticed her attention and adverted his eyes in a show of respect. However, his gaze flicked back up to her for a quick appraising look. A good start. Behind him, a group of small squid appeared out of the darkness and drifted toward the school of fish, eyeing them with interest.

  The largest merman spoke first. That you do, Princess, he said, drawing out her title. Your daddy and I were just ... getting to know each other. My friends and I are passing through, exploring, you know. We smelled your pod in the area and wanted to investigate. See what interesting things we could find. He smirked at her, giving her his own head-to-fin appraisal. Behind him, one squid launched itself from the group and tackled a small fish.

  Maera smiled and flicked her tail, moving herself between her father and the males. Just with that simple maneuver, she could feel the tension between the two groups of males lessen a fraction. Their curiosity about her was distracting them from their attempt at intimidation of her father. I love exploring, she said, cupping her webbed fingers together over her chest. I wish I was brave enough to go further out. Did you see the whale pod on your way in? Behind the males, the whole group of squid were attacking the now frantic fish.

  The big male shook his head. Nah. Our stomachs were growling too loudly to notice any whales. We were wondering if you might have some food for some weary travelers. His gaze moved to her father, and he gave a lazy grin. Or anything else we might want.

  He was persistent. Maera redoubled her efforts. She gave her fin a slightly harder flick than necessary, and it brushed up against the tail of the second-in-command. Several emotions flicked across his face: surprise, embarrassment — then interest. She pretended to be flustered, as if the contact had been an accident. Maera knew she had to do this just right, or it would cause more trouble than it would solve. She had to get him interested enough to want her, but not enough to be willing to just attack and take her.

  In the waters beyond, the squid, having
dispersed most of the fish, were now turning on each other. The larger ones slammed into smaller ones, grasping and ripping at them. Faint wisps of blood bloomed here and there in the darkness.

  A familiar scent in the water behind Maera shifted her attention to her sister joining them. She shot a glare over her shoulder at Jersti, who paused halfway between the edge of the Rift and the group, uncertain. Annoyance twisted in Maera’s chest. If her sister would just leave her alone for half a tide...

  She turned back to the males, trying to refocus her efforts on her goal to defuse the situation. A blur of motion darted by in the shadows. Maera suddenly smelled blood. Not the blood of fish or of squid. Merfolk blood. She froze, uncomprehending, until a fading shriek of terror shook her out of her paralyzation.

  Jersti.

  Something had grabbed Jersti.

  Chapter 2

  The spot where Jersti had been was now empty.

  Maera’s mind stuttered, trying to make sense of it. Finally, a whiff of a scent revealed what had happened. A shark. A shark had grabbed Jersti. The same realization hit the rest of the merpeople a moment later. Her father bellowed. The strangers huddled together. Anything big enough to snatch a full-grown mermaid up in its jaws was nothing anyone else wanted to go up against — and often when there was one shark, there were more not too far away.

  To the credit of the largest rogue male, he reached out and pulled Maera into the midst of his small pod in attempt to make her less prone to attack. Maera, however, refused to cower. She twisted her wrist out of his grip and turned back toward the scent of her sister’s blood. Her father bellowed Maera’s name as she shot out after Jersti’s trail.

  Once out of sight of the others, Maera lost the scent. She tried to calm herself. She was too frantic. It was messing with her senses. If she couldn’t get ahold of herself, she would never find Jersti. All of her sisters would be gone.

  Maera took a deep breath and tried to still her pounding heart. A faint sound drew her attention, and Maera took off after it. Moments later she picked up the scent again. She finally saw the shadow of the beast in the distance as it slowed to finish off its stolen meal. It was massive — at least half again as long as an average merman — with a narrow body and protruding jaw. Jersti’s arm was clinched between the teeth of the shark right up to her shoulder. Her thick merperson skin was the only reason she hadn’t lost the appendage yet, however it wasn’t going to take much more pressure. The shark thrashed its head, attempting to separate Jersti from her arm. She shrieked.