Fathom

by L. L. Standage

  I wanted to keep yelling, but my mind went blank as I looked into his stunned face. My face hot, my pumping temper draining me of energy to think straight, I turned and stomped down the steps and onto the beach. Behind me, the door to the house opened and closed. He’d gone back inside. Good.

  The sky was clear and black, and the moon shone on the waves like a silvery lamp. The sand glowed white while the crashing tide hissed and frothed in front of me. I trudged toward the water and sat down, shivering from the chill and the remnants of my anger.

  And then I bawled like a baby. All the bravery I had to muster in standing up to Calder dried up as the wrath vented off. My body shook with the misery replacing it. As I sobbed so pathetically, I had to wonder why. Why should my feelings be so fragile in the hands of someone I didn’t care about? Somehow, there had been a serious miscommunication within the group. How could he have misunderstood? Maybe he didn’t want to see the truth. Something about me irked him so much, he only saw what he wanted. Didn’t that make him another idiot like Brock Mallory, just as easy to brush off?

  No. It didn’t. That was the part I hated most. I wanted him to notice me. I admired him. I liked it when he grabbed my hand earlier tonight. I felt a rush when he pummeled Linnaeus to free me. And I felt an inward prick in my heart every time he frowned at me or ignored me, even if I hadn’t realized it until now.

  It was so stupid; I’d renounced chasing guys. I shouldn’t be pining over someone who didn’t trust me, who didn’t like me, who—as Cordelia put it—hated what I was. Hated.

  Pathetic. That’s what I was. My face crumpled into my hands as I started crying again, glad I was by myself. Or was I?

  The door to the house closed. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, listening. It was probably Samantha. Best friend to the rescue. I continued to stare at the water and prepared myself for the nice little pity-the-Olivia/bash-the-Calder party I was about to have.

  “Well now, don’t you have quite the wicked mouth?”

  I jolted and looked behind me. Samantha didn’t come out; Cordelia did. I wiped my eyes again and cleared my throat, mortified she’d witnessed my drama-queen’s holiday.

  “Did everyone hear all of that?”

  “Oh no. Only Seidon and I could hear. Our hearing is much keener than human hearing.” She sat down next to me and looked out at the water too. “It really is quite beautiful on the surface, isn’t it?”

  I stayed quiet. She continued.

  “It’s very beautiful underneath too, once you get the chance to see it.”

  “I’ve seen the ocean underneath the surface,” I muttered, looking down at the sand.

  “A hundred fathoms down?”

  Again, I said nothing.

  Cordelia sighed. “Few human eyes have ever seen the deepest parts of the ocean. Some think the best of it is near the surface in the reefs where the sun can shine through. The deeper you go, the darker it gets. But if you know what’s really down there, you’d be able to see what a wondrous world it is.”

  Something told me she wasn’t just talking about the ocean anymore.

  “But why does he have to act like this?” I asked, looking over at Cordelia’s pensive profile and hoping my assumption at her analogy was correct.

  “Calder is a good young man. One of the few humans I actually have some respect for. But he has suffered great tragedy in his life. And suffering can sometimes bring out the worst in us.”

  “But he’s okay toward Samantha, and to you and Seidon. Why me?”

  Cordelia looked at me for the first time. Her eyes narrowed studiously.

  “You look like her.”

  Though I didn’t know what she was talking about, my insides stiffened.

  “Like who?”

  “Well…” She tilted her head to the side. “Not exactly like her. Just your hair, maybe.”

  “Who?”

  “I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this. It should come from Calder himself, when he’s ready.”

  “Was there some other girl?” I asked, my thoughts turning to my own angsty history with Landon. Reluctantly, Cordelia continued.

  “All I know is that there was a mermaid named Aeronwy. She was young. Thoughtless. I’d even go so far as to say she was a coward.”

  “Oh…” I looked back at the dark water. “A mermaid…” I remembered again what Cordelia said in the car: He hates what you are. I’m a reminder. A reminder of a person who had broken his heart. A person he couldn’t trust.

  “Of course, there’s more to it, but it’s none of my affair. All I’ve told you is merely Seidon’s idle gossip.” She waved her hand.

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “I have my reasons. I’ll tell you one of them: a woman deserves to know. You appear to care a great deal for him.”

  “What? No I don’t! He’s a jerk!”

  Cordelia stood, chuckling like a villain. “So you say. In time, Calder will come to respect you for the person you are, not dislike you for the person you remind him of.” She started walking toward the house.

  “I guess I have to go apologize then, right?” I said with an edge of disdain.

  “Apologize?” said Cordelia over her shoulder. “Who said anything about apologizing? He had it coming.”

  I closed my mouth, baffled but pleased.

  She turned back. “Everyone else has gone up to bed, I suggest you do the same.”

  I went in after her. When I got to my room, Samantha looked up from where she lay on her air mattress. She sat up with a dish-me-the-details-now gleam in her eye. I shut the door behind me.

  “You won’t believe what just happened,” I said, then sat down next to her. Then, in a harsh whisper, I unloaded my misery.

  When I awoke the next morning, I opened my eyes and stared at the wall. Memories of the night before raced through my mind. Had Calder really thought I was a mermaid this whole time? Didn’t Eamon tell him? How did he miss it? And had Cordelia really come outside to offer me encouragement? So weird.

  I rolled over to look for Samantha and found her empty, unmade bed. Her cell phone sat on the floor beside it. I sat up, frowning in confusion. What on earth could make Sam so eager to get up in the morning that she’d leave her cell phone behind? Then, of course, I came up with the answer: Seidon.

  I got out of bed, threw my sweatshirt on over my pajamas, and went to the door. I paused. An uncomfortable dread at running into Calder flipped my stomach over. But I took a deep breath and set my shoulders. I couldn’t stay in this room forever. And anyway, I had nothing to be ashamed of. He was the one who was being a jerk.

  I went downstairs. Eamon, Walter, and Uther sat in the living room. They chatted between themselves, each with a cup of coffee. Natasha stood in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup. They looked up at me when I appeared.

  “Good morning, lass,” said Eamon. “Sleep all right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Coffee?” Natasha asked from the kitchen, holding up the coffee pot. I shrugged and walked over, while Eamon, Uther, and Walter went back to their conversation about football. Natasha poured me a mug, adding a generous spoonful of sugar and some creamer. I took the cup and sipped it, glancing at Natasha sipping from her own mug. Did she think I was a mermaid, like Calder did?

  “Can I ask you a weird question?” I asked.

  “I work with merpeople,” she said with a smile. “There’s no such thing as a weird question.”

  I smiled. “Okay. Um, you know I’m human, right?”

  She chuckled through her nose. “I bet those are words you never thought you’d say.”

  I had to laugh. She continued. “And at first, no. I thought you were a mermaid.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice. “These guys aren’t very good at being forthcoming. Especially Eamon. All he said about you was ‘she isn’t what we thought.’ I took that to mean you were a merworld civilian, not special ops like Delfina.”

  “Oh. He couldn’t just come out and say, by the way, Oli
via is human?” I whispered. Natasha shrugged.

  “Like I said. He’s terrible at blunt communication. It’s very un-Irish of him.” She smiled and winked. I chuckled as the conversation Samantha and I had with Eamon when he first confirmed the existence of merpeople rose to my mind. He hadn’t been forthcoming then, either. She patted my shoulder.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not going to toss you or Samantha out in the cold or anything.”

  I smiled from behind my coffee cup. “Thanks. Speaking of Samantha, have you seen her?”

  “Out on the patio.” She pointed a thumb toward the back door. I crossed the room and went out back.

  Samantha sat on the first step with her camera strap around her neck. She leaned back on her elbows and laughed toward the sky. Seidon, as I had suspected, sat beside her with a large bottle of water propped beside him.

  “And I said, no I’m the prince of Whales,” said Seidon. He and Samantha both cracked up laughing.

  “Prince of Whales!” she said.

  “I waited for three years to use that one. Ever since I learned there’s a real place called Wales and human who’s the prince of it. I’d like to meet him one day.”

  Samantha laughed again and looked up at me. “Hey, Liv.” She snapped a picture of me.

  “Hi.”

  “Nice day.” Seidon nodded toward the ocean, where the seagulls squawked, and the ocean and sky were pristine blue. Down by the water, a few people strolled, waded, or swam. Sam took a picture of the shore and patted the space on the step beside her.

  “You okay?” she asked as I sat down.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I was about to come out and yell at him for being so rude last night, but Cordelia told me to stay in the house.” Sam looked at her camera to review pictures. “Couldn’t really say no, could I?”

  “No, you couldn’t,” Seidon agreed, and lifted the water bottle. “She’s pretty used to having her orders obeyed.”

  How about a change of subject? “You and Cordelia kind of look alike. Are you related?” I asked, finding my chance to ask a question I’d had since the first time I met them. He swallowed his gulp of water.

  “Not really,” he said, wiping a drip from his chin. “She does resemble my family, but she’s married to my cousin twice removed or something.”

  “She’s married?” The thought hadn’t occurred to me. Cordelia seemed more like the feministic, career-oriented type.

  “Oh yes. Her husband is also a captain in our military, but he hates the surface.”

  “She and Calder left a few minutes ago to make a grocery store run,” said Sam. I wrinkled my nose. Count on my best friend to bring the topic back around to a guy.

  “Apparently, everyone wanted him out of your way for a while.” Seidon and Samantha exchanged a smile as if they shared a delectable secret.

  “He was acting pretty humble this morning, before you came down.” Sam looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. He was? Huh. Wait, no. I didn’t care.

  “Yeah, well…whatever,” I said. “Can we talk about something else, please? I’ve been wondering something. Well, a lot of things really.” I looked around Samantha’s back at Seidon. “Can I ask?”

  He took another drink. “Of course.”

  I smiled. Where to begin?

  “Okay.” I thought for a second. “Have you ever been on land before?”

  “No. I’ve only been to the surface. Once. It was very brief and I was just a child. I like it here. It’s nice. Feet are easier to get used to than I thought.” He looked down at his own and wiggled his toes.

  “Probably because feet are normal.” Samantha gave him a playful shove.

  “I said I got used to them.” He nudged her back. “Not that they’re normal. They are very, very weird.”

  Samantha and I laughed.

  “Which came first, the fin or the foot?” I asked. Sam laughed again. I smiled, but leaned around Samantha, my curiosity bursting. “No, seriously, I want to know. How did merpeople get here?” I asked, making it sound like they were aliens or foreigners.

  Seidon finished another swig of water and shrugged. “How did humans get here?” he asked.

  Huh. Good question. “Well, there are several schools of thought. Creation. Evolution. A big bang in the middle of the universe. Do merpeople have your own stories?”

  “Sure we do. All our stories are mostly myth. One of the legends says we are descended from Nereids, the offspring of the god of the ocean, Nereus. Another legend says humans weren’t first at all but that they evolved from merpeople. But the main belief, the one that we’re all taught as children, is that when the first humans began populating Earth, a group of them went to live near the ocean. They grew to love it so much, they began to worship it. This made the god of the humans angry, so he banished them to the ocean as a punishment. Of course, humans can’t survive under water for long, so they were doomed to die. But Nereus took pity on them, gave them the tail and gills of a fish so they could survive, and also provided them with the ability to return to the Earth if they wished, but only if they left a sacrifice.”

  “What kind of sacrifice?” I asked with foreboding. “They didn’t have to kill anyone, did they?”

  “No, no, it can be anything. But it has to be something of great worth to the individual. A piece of treasure, a keepsake, even a memory can be given up. Marinus, for example, left his little finger.”

  My mouth dropped open. “That’s why he’s missing a pinky?”

  “Certainly. But a finger is a pretty cowardly sacrifice, if you ask me. The pain of losing a body part is sufficient, but as he knew he wouldn’t be going back, he only gave up his little finger. It’s something he wouldn’t miss or need too much. If he hadn’t stolen a vessel, he could return to the ocean and get his finger back.”

  “Reattached and everything?” I asked in astonishment. Seidon nodded.

  “Of course.”

  “Wow. So it’s like collateral?”

  “Right. After the transformation, we can stay on land and lose our sacrifice, or we can return home and reclaim it.”

  “Wow…” I said again in a whisper.

  “Did you have to give something up?” asked Sam.

  “Yes. Everyone does. Even me. I gave up my favorite wracken. It’s autographed.”

  “What’s a wracken?”

  “It’s a ball used for a sport we play…sort of like that soccer stuff Samantha showed me on the toplap yesterday.”

  “Laptop,” Sam corrected.

  “Yeah, that. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

  “Don’t worry, Liv and I aren’t much into sports.”

  Just the boys who play them, I thought to myself with a smirk as I watched Sam batting her eyelashes.

  “How long will you stay here?” I asked.

  “Cordelia and I have to stay here at least three more rounds, or days as you call it. When we come on land, we shed our scales. It takes seven days for the membranes to grow back beneath our skin.”

  “You’ll turn back into a fish in three more days?” Samantha asked. Seidon laughed.

  “I’m a merman, not a fish.” He grinned. “And no, the scale membranes are underneath my skin. Once we return to the temple of Nereus and reclaim our sacrifice, the skin on top will dissolve, our scales will appear, and our legs will fuse back into a tail.”

  “Ouch, does that hurt?” I asked.

  “Turning into a human did. Mostly just the bones moving. I don’t know what it feels like to turn back, but from what I’m told, it’ll be a similar to becoming human.”

  I cringed and flexed the bones in my own legs.

  “Salt water is like acid to you?” said Sam. “If you were to go into salt water after seven days, your skin would melt off?”

  Seidon laughed again.

  “Not at all. Transformation is a process; much less dramatic than it sounds. It took nearly a day to turn human. We first have to go back to the temple of Nereus, but we can live and move under th
e water because of our gills—”

  “Can I see your gills?” I interrupted, then shrank back. What I’d asked could have been incredibly rude. But Seidon smiled, lifted his hair, and turned his head. I leaned across Samantha and gazed with fascination at the skin behind his ear. It looked like two small, deep cuts.

  “She’s obsessed with fish stuff,” said Sam. Seidon laughed and turned back to us.

  “Are most humans not interested in marine life?”

  “Not as much as me, I guess,” I said. “Do lots of mermaids come on land?”

  “Merpeople. And no. Most of us don’t like to bother with the whole sacrifice and metamorphosis thing and just stay put.”

  “What about the pressure of the water?” I continued, eager for answers to everything I’d been wondering. “Most people can’t survive at certain depths.”

  “We’re not as deep as most people might think, but it’s the same as with any kind of marine life: we’ve adapted. We also have natural barriers surrounding our cities to lessen the pressure, as well as keep them camouflaged. It varies among the different types too. Deep sea merpeople like us can survive elsewhere, but we’re used to the dark and the cold.”

  “Don’t you have any light?”

  “Not outside our cities.”

  “And how do you communicate? You obviously can’t use your speaking voice under water…can you?”

  Yet again, Seidon chuckled.

  “No, we can’t use our speaking voices under water, except in air pockets. Everyone has at least one in their home and there are several in our cities. There’s a few other different ways we communicate too. One is a language more like singing than talking…sort of like whale song.”

  “I heard it!” I exclaimed. “In the vessel. It did sound like whales. Only a lot prettier.” And a lot freakier, but I didn’t say that.