He needs proof, Maui thought. “Let us make a pact. I shall visit the surface, touch the land, and deliver a token, found only ashore. When I present you with the token, remaining unharmed, then you will know of your father’s deceit.”
Still uneasy, Caspian approached his dressing platform and picked up his eating tool, running his finger over the sharp end until the smallest drop of blood bubbled from a poke in his skin. “What do you require as reciprocation?”
“There is not much that I desire. I shall have to consider my terms.” Maui took hold of his cousin’s wrist, caressing the smooth, golden cuff that bespoke of his royal status. “Perhaps … perhaps you might converse with the Sea King, request permission to visit land yourself.”
“What would I do on land?” Caspian extracted his arm from his cousin’s hold, rubbing the cuff as if to remove invisible marks. “Why would I wish to visit there?”
“To visit your mother. Do you not wish to rid yourself of the dreams that haunt your sleep-tides, before you are joined? How can your father deny you a last goodbye to the woman who gave you life?”
The green pallor faded from Caspian’s skin, replaced by a pinkish hue. “I would enjoy a visit with my mother. Perhaps knowing her fate shall make me a better future Sea King.”
Caspian’s future as Sea King wasn’t Maui’s objective, but he could accept it as Caspian’s—for now. Maui held up a flat hand, waiting. “Do we have a pact?”
After a momentary hesitation, Caspian met Maui’s raised his hand with his own. “Yes. But you must bring a human token that cannot be acquired within the sea. A token that shall spark memories of my days ashore.”
“It will be done.” Triumph thundered through Maui’s veins, but he labored to conceal the feeling. “I shall depart when the plankton dims for sleep-tide.”
Caspian bowed to Maui—something he never did for anyone else. “Very well. I wish you good fortune.”
As the current shifted, Tuck traveled to his dwelling. He’d scouted the Atlantis ice barriers for potential weak spots, torn between the desire to assist Maui in reaching his goal, and the hope that the once-esteemed Prince of Oceania would fail in this last experiment, and be forced to remain below, with Tuck.
Throughout their time as friends, the two had conducted hundreds of experiments, all with the end goal of discovering a source of breath for Mer wishing to spend time on land. This was how they’d come to create paihana, a concoction made from the poisons of various sea creatures, diluted and mixed with more digestible ingredients. The poisons, they’d discovered, were not strong enough to kill most Mer, but did temporarily alter their minds. Both mermen understood that their creation would be of great value, in any city.
A heavy, driftwood door secured his dwelling, and Tuck slipped between the wood, and the tall, stone wall, shoving the structure closed the moment he made it inside. Maui waited for him, perched on a stool near the platform, while etching feverishly on a clay tablet. Tuck laid his pouch on the shelf where he kept his personal items. “Why are you not at the palace?”
Maui did not look up. “I must prove to Caspian that there are no fang-bearing, terrifying creatures guarding the surface. I am to go there, and acquire a token from the land.”
Tuck blinked, releasing a stream of tiny bubbles from his gills. “But the pearls, the formula. They are not yet complete.”
“Correct.” Maui set his etching aside and rose, producing a thin strip of silvery scales. “I have devised a method that will allow me a short visit to land. I shall wrap my wrist with the scales of the tiger shark, which have been dipped in the same serum as the pearls. It will not be a long-lasting device, so I must stay longer than it takes for me to gather sufficient proof.”
“Ah.” There were times when Maui’s brain moved at the pace of a flying fish, and his words along with it. Tuck had learned how to take in the information, and then slow it to a speed that could be processed. He did so now by scuttling to the iced cavity where he kept his food, and uncovering the top. He shoved his hand inside, seizing a handful of krill.
When he’d contained two portions, he replaced the cover, and offered some to Maui. “How can we be certain that these scales will distribute the correct amount of serum?”
Maui accepted the snack, shoving a few krill in his mouth as his brain worked to unlock the puzzle. “We cannot be certain. However, I am confident that this serum is correct, and though these scales will not absorb in the same way as the pearls, I shall require only moments on land. I will remain near to the sea, in case the serum should fail.”
Tuck knew that once Maui made up his mind to do something, any objections would remain unheard. “You mean to leave now?”
Maui shoved the scales inside his pouch, responding to Tuck with a curt nod. “I must return before the waking tide, to avoid detection by the Atlantis guards.”
Tuck guzzled the remainder of his krill, retrieving a hollowed-out stone from the grotto where they stored their paihana. He hoped this version was strong enough to melt ice. “Let us go.”
* * *
They arrived at Tuck’s chosen location, both working to clear the barrier of thick vines, scrub plants, and colorful corals. Tuck brushed smooth a specific pane of ice, tapping it until a tiny crack expanded beneath his finger. “You see? This is very thin. The water’s temperature has caused outer layers to melt and slough away, leaving the section vulnerable.”
Maui hummed in approval. “Do you mean to chip away at it?”
“That would take too long.” Tuck removed the top from his stone, revealing fire-coral paihana—the strongest, hottest version they had yet developed. “We shall melt an opening large enough to slip through one at a time.”
Maui drifted back, head swiveling as if to ensure that no guards were near. “We must make haste.”
Tuck swiped a thin layer onto the ice, followed by another, thicker layer. Heat from the fire coral seeped into the frosty pane, dissolving section by section until shards of fragile ice pulled free and floated away. Within moments, Tuck had burned a narrow hole, just wider than their shoulders.
Maui shoved his arm through, nodding in satisfaction. “You are a genius.”
The compliment sent warmth into Tuck’s neck and face. Maui was not prone to sharing his praise. “Shall I pass through first? Or you?”
Maui grasped Tuck’s arms as if to keep him in place. “You must stay behind. The risk is too great. If I am delayed, you must ensure that the Sea King does not suspect where I have gone.”
Stay behind. Maui had created one strip of scales. Going alone had been his intention all along. Disappointment flattened the enthusiasm Tuck had felt, just moments earlier. He argued, “I shall swim by your side, but will not break the surface. I will guard your safety from afar.”
“This is a risk I must undertake alone.” Maui shoved through the breach Tuck had created, carrying a token made from a creature Tuck captured, and heading for shore, where Tuck had always longed to visit.
Devastated, Tuck watched the current carry Maui away, and then, as good friends do, he replaced the plants and corals as best he could, concealing the opening so that no one else would know it existed.
When Maui rose from the sea, a blinding sun hung high in an endless, pale sky. It seemed years since he’d risen this high, though only a season had passed since his last experiment. That time, he’d sent a merman who had never seen land, who had never breathed air. That merman lived long enough to dry his fin and stand, experiencing the sand between his toes while he suffocated, proving Maui’s newest formula another failure.
After each experiment, Maui fell into his next sleep, defeated, but by the next waking tide, had thought up another idea. It was a wonder Tuck had a mind for science, and the experiments pleased him as much as they did Maui. When the time came for them to part ways, they would miss each other something fierce. Maui wished Tuck could accompany him ashore, as much as he, himself, longed to go.
He made for land, recalling fr
om childhood storybooks that humans did not believe in the existence of Mer. Regardless of his birthright, or his upbringing, Maui had no desire to cause panic or to be asked questions he could not answer.
As he approached the shore, a high-pitched squeal caught his attention. He veered aside for a better view. On the distant beach, a young female darted toward the waves, followed by two young men. Behind them, others congregated, in groupings both large and small, some hiding from the sun, and others seeming intent on absorbing it. They played happy-sounding tunes, chasing one another, and drinking substances out of vessels just bigger than their hands.
The rituals touched something in Maui’s memory, and he urged it to push forth. Too much time had passed since his days as a human, recalling that time had grown difficult.
The squealing quieted, and the female paused at the edge of the sand, shielding her eyes with her hand, and squinting in Maui’s direction.
Her skin displayed a distinct absence of scales, glowing and smooth, its golden color interrupted only by tiny, pink coverings. Her shiny hair mirrored the color of sand, ending above her shoulders, and waving behind her ears, away from her face. “Do you see that?” She extended an arm, pointing at Maui.
The males stilled, close to the woman. “What?”
She pointed again. “That. Don’t you see it? Looks like a person.”
“A person? That far out? No, it can’t be. It’s a bird.”
To be safe, Maui dipped below. Had he not heard the female’s exquisite sing-song pitch, he might have opted to surface in another location, but as the sound echoed in his ears, he could not change direction. It was as if the female had extended lengthy tentacles and wrapped them around his body, drawing him inexplicably toward her.
When he reached the shallows, he surfaced once more. He’d risen near a rocky shoal, at the foot of cliffs that appeared to scrub the sky. Vegetation lined the coast, edging toward the water and creating a natural barrier between cliff and beach.
Since he could no longer view the humans, he swam until his fin hit sand, after which he crawled, dragging himself out of the sea and onto the shore until he lay upon a large, flat rock. Warmth from the afternoon sun seeped into Maui’s skin, drying his fin faster than he’d anticipated.
Opening his pouch, Maui withdrew the wide strip of scales and tied them around his wrist. Soon, his gills tightened, withdrawing into his neck. His chest ached with pressure, forcing his mouth open and shoving air into his nose with such force that his eyeballs bulged. When panic surged, he relaxed against the stone, reminding himself that he must remain calm if he wished to live.
Once the pressure eased, Maui’s fin separated into the human legs with which he’d been born—webbed toes included. He leveraged his weight upon the stone cliff face, and stood, teetering. He hadn’t stood on feet in ages. Triumphant, he regarded all the ways in which his body had changed. The young boy he’d been no longer existed, but perhaps, with time, he could make a happy life as a grown human.
The joyful squealing commenced, and Caspian shoved his body into a cropping of thick shrubbery, eager for a better view. The ground beneath his feet punctured the tender skin, and branches slashed at his scales, but when he glimpsed another view of the flaxen-haired female, all thoughts of discomfort fled his mind. A white sphere zoomed toward her, and she dove at it with an impassioned growl. It bounced from her fist, aimed at one of the males on the other side of a net.
“Oh no!” she bellowed, her voice bubbling with delight. “You missed it. Guess the girls win, again.”
“You cheat!” shouted the male.
The orb crested past the humans, aimed at Maui’s hiding place, and landed deep within the thick brush. Maui stumbled back, desperate to conceal himself as the humans progressed toward him.
“I’ll get it.” The female’s voice reached Maui with unusual speed. “I didn’t mean for it to get lost.”
The shrubbery around him crunched, shifting as Maui fought the urge to escape into the sea. I must not be caught here.
Long, gilded arms stretched into the vines, slender fingers grasping for the sphere. Those fingers were tipped with a color Maui could not name, but that reminded him of the shiny scales of an angel fish. He should slink further into the shadows, but couldn’t take his eyes off those hands, that color, her skin.
Her face eased through the brush, leaving Maui staring into eyes of a color he’d never seen before. Richer than silt, or clay, but darker than gold, and brighter than his first view of the sun. “Oh.” She gasped. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m just looking for my volleyball. Have you seen it?”
Maui blinked. Unable to speak around the dryness in his throat, the way his tongue filled his mouth.
“I hit it harder than I meant to, and it bounced …” her voice trailed off, eyes widening as she caught a full-body glimpse of Caspian. “Oh dear. I’m so, so sorry. I … I …” She couldn’t seem to look away. “You know this isn’t the nude beach, right?”
Still, Maui could not answer. Nude. That word. He searched his brain, begging it to remember. Nude meant without the coverings that humans often draped over their bodies. No, coverings was not the right term.
The female cleared her throat, turning her face away. “Are you all right? You seem … disoriented.”
Finally, Maui found his voice, though dry and cracked in the air. “I seem to have lost my … clothes.”
“Oh dear.” Her cheeks dimpled with merriment. “Don’t tell me someone stole them. What a horrible thing to do.”
“Stole them.” Maui tried the words in his mouth. It felt like the right explanation, so he went with it. “Yes.”
She hid the tilt of her mouth behind a hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. Stay right here.” And with that, she bolted out of the brush.
Maui peered through the leaves, watching as she jogged toward her friends. She must not tell them of me. He prepared to flee, but before she reached the others, she glanced over her shoulder as if puzzling something in her mind, and then pranced toward a shaded spot, where she lifted a large pouch, and peeked inside it.
Seeming satisfied with its contents, she tucked the pouch under her arm and scuttled back to Maui. “Here you are. There’s a pair of shorts and a T-shirt in here, and some flip-flops. Doug will never miss them. He’s so scatterbrained he’ll forget, anyway.”
Maui accepted the pouch, grateful. “I am in your debt,” he said, realizing how stilted and rusty his human vocabulary must sound. “Thank … thank you.”
The female smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Chloe.”
Maui stared at the hand, uncertain what she intended with it, but desiring to touch her in so many ways. Following her lead, he pressed his palm against hers. “I am Maui.”
Her smile bloomed again, and Maui wondered how it was possible for a female to possess the sunlight in her eyes, when the sky required so much of it. “Do you live around here?”
“Not far.” How he would ever explain himself to a human female? “I visit this place often.”
“Oh, me too. This is my favorite beach, because it’s not well known by tourists.” She wrapped her fingers around his and pumped his hand, then abruptly released it and allowed her arm to drop to her side.
“Hey, Chloe, did you get lost?” One of the males from her crowd yelled, “Just leave it. We’ll get a new ball, if we have to.”
“I’ll be right there!” she shouted. But she didn’t move. “I’m glad to meet you, Maui. I hope to see you again, sometime.”
He could not make any promises, could not dare to hope. And yet, the response formed in his mouth anyway. “It is I, who hopes to see you again, Chloe.”
She giggled. “Maybe next time you’ll wear clothes, so I can introduce you to my friends.”
Maui’s heart drummed with happiness, his anxiety reducing by the moment. “Yes. I shall be certain to wear clothes.”
“Chloe? Come on. We don’t have all day.” The male�
�s voice had come ever closer to Maui’s hiding place, so he backed further into the brush.
Chloe, taking her cue from Maui, withdrew as well. “See you soon.”
Maui retreated around the cliff’s edge and onto the stone where he’d first emerged, holding the human pouch to his chest. He’d always known he must reappear on land someday. Not just to find his mother, or to rebel against his father. It wasn’t even that he hated living in Oceania, and then Atlantis. He’d enjoyed a comfortable, safe life with the Mer. Something inside him had simply insisted that his fate would always walk upon the shore.
Now he understood why.
Tuck journeyed home, his initial sorrow mutating into an ache that throbbed in his chest. What if Maui didn’t come back? What if he did? If their most recent serum formula proved a success, Maui’s remaining days in the below would meet a swift, and abrupt end. Sooner than later. Tuck had dedicated his life to Maui and their experiments, but he was not born human, as Maui had been, and did not possess the organs they’d discovered were necessary for a Mer to breathe on land, with, or without the serum.
Despite a lifetime of yearning, craving, imagining what his future might hold, he could not join Maui ashore. The awareness weighed him down, crushing his abilities to think, to move, as if he transported many pouches filled with stones.
What would become of him without Maui? In abandoning Oceania on Maui’s request, Tuck had broken ties with his intended, a mermaid he considered visually and intellectually pleasing. Once Caspian and Maui departed Atlantis, Tuck feared retribution from Tangaroa in the form of banishment, followed by a shamed retreat to his home city. Yet, banishment would be a far better fate than imprisonment. Tuck could not predict his own penalty.
His mind churned with theories about which he had no research, and tension stiffened his shoulders as he progressed along the empty swim paths. Perhaps a selection of paihana would ease the twitch in his muscles, the grinding in his jaw and ears.
Dawn Of Hope: Charity Anthology Page 19