by Emma Hamm
Mac Lir must have looked kindly upon him. Little Saoirse would be a talisman for him. A confirmation he would never die on the sea.
He grinned up at the clouds that spun like churning waves above him. Just how far would this luck go? Would she bring him fortune? The legends said merrows cast their favors upon men easily enough. They liked a quiet-spoken husband who took care of them.
Her story hadn’t surprised him. Anyone who knew of the Fae knew merrow men were poor excuses for faeries. They all liked their drink and disliked any man who stepped in their way.
The voice of his mother whispered through his memories. She had loved to tell stories of creatures under the sea.
“Never fall in love with a merrow,” she whispered in his ear. “They are kindly and beautiful creatures, but their husbands will hunt you down and kill you without a thought.”
He must be a foolish man because he was willing to take the risk.
How could he not? She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen, and she had saved his life. Manus had never met a woman who could do that although Arturo was likely to laugh at him.
“That’s the point of a wife, boy,” the spirit of his friend crowed. “They would die for you. They take the chance with every child they bring into this world and yet they do it again and again for the men they love.”
Foolish thoughts, all of them. He hadn’t ever desired a wife, and it made little sense he would want one now.
Manus lifted a hand and rubbed at his chest. The sting of magic still lingered there, deep underneath his ribs and wrapped around his heart like a thorny vine. She murmured his name with a tongue dripping honey and eyes so large they held the entire night sky in their depths.
She owned a part of him now even though he didn’t like it one bit. He hadn’t given it willingly. She snatched up the bright light inside his heart and swallowed it whole.
Merrows were dangerous, he agreed with his mother. This one could bring him to his knees with a smile.
A soft clinking sound echoed from waves lapping the sand, and he smiled. She had returned, as promised, although he worried what it might cost her.
“Not your business,” he grunted, reminding himself that she wasn’t part of his life. Not yet.
If he had it his way, he would take her all the way back to Uí Néill and sit her in a quiet little cabin all to themselves. She would look good by a fire with a cat curled at her feet.
He rose up on his elbows, staring down the length of his body at the merrow lying in the waves. She had her head on her fists and her tail curled out of the water, flipping back and forth.
“Hello,” she said.
“Welcome back. Safe trip?”
“As safe as most.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” The sun reflected off the small pile of objects in front of her. Raising a brow, he sat all the way up and pointed. “What did you bring?”
“Things I thought you might find interesting.”
“Well bring them here then.”
“I’d rather you come get them.”
He thought for a moment she was flirting. It surprised him. She had proven to be an innocent little thing, and far too curious for her own good, but he quickly realized no flirtatious tones heightened the trill of her voice.
Her hands clenched into tiny fists. Her tail stopped flipping, instead, it lay still underneath the water. Even the shimmer of her scales dulled as her eyes dropped from his. She was uncomfortable, he realized, or perhaps even embarrassed.
That was something he could fix. Manus was a charming man when he wanted to be, and women were easy for him to understand. He read their bodies like a well-loved book.
He shot towards her, kneeling in the sand and tucking his finger underneath her chin. She was chilly but not cold and shivering as any other woman would have been. Her eyes met his, albeit slowly, and a muscle in her jaw bounced against his thumb.
“What is it?” he asked. “What chases the light from your eyes?”
“Merrows change outside of water. You’ve seen me without the tail but the transformation…” she hesitated. “It is not a pleasant sight.”
“Why?”
“The body of a merrow is like slime when it is no longer attached to me.”
“Like a jellyfish?”
“If we must draw comparisons, yes, similar to that.”
“It will not startle me,” he murmured.
She didn’t seem convinced. Chuckling, Manus stroked the soft skin of her jaw and told himself not to marvel at the silken flesh. She was a woman, not a goddess, and he refused to put her on a pedestal.
“Truly,” he continued, “I will not be disgusted or startled by anything you do, my pearl. I want to know you, every part of you.”
“I don’t know how you could.”
Neither did he. A woman melting into a jellyfish turned his stomach, but if this was what the merrow needed from him, then he would school his thoughts and ensure that was what she got.
He glanced down at the pile of glinting gold and his jaw dropped. “What did you bring me?”
“Oh!” Happiness sparked in her gaze again and she looked down at the treasure. “Just a few things I found at the bottom of the ocean. Do you like them?”
Like them? These were priceless treasures! Golden crowns, heavy jeweled necklaces, even a goblet fit for a king. He could make so much coin from these if he found the right person to peddle them.
“These are stunning, Saoirse. Are there more?”
“More?” She shrugged. “There’s more of them I suppose. We throw them out, so there is likely plenty along the bottom of the ocean. I could find others if you don’t like these.”
She moved to scrape the treasures back into sea. With a great shout, Manus leapt forward and pulled it all back towards him.
“No! No, I need no more than this. I was just curious. For humans, this is a considerable amount of wealth.”
“Really?” She stared at him in shock. “But it’s trash. What use could you possibly have for such things? Food or water I could understand, but these are just metal.”
He watched her clink them together, smashing precious gold against delicate jewel. Perhaps she was right. They were useless objects in the long run, but he wasn’t about to let go of a small fortune. If he ever got off this isle, he would make himself a wealthy man.
“Humans rarely make sense,” he said. “But if we ever leave, we could live like kings and queens with that treasure.”
“Leave?”
So that was what she wanted. He eyed the merrow with new found interest. She was using him, not the other way around.
Manus couldn’t let her know he had discovered her plan. Let her play him while he wooed her. He intended to take the little merrow all the way home with him. If she cooperated and thought it was her idea, then it would only make his plan easier.
He would need to convince her of his interest though.
Swooping down, he lifted her tail and all into his arms. “Come on, out of the water with you.”
She squealed, in happiness and delight he was certain. “Manus!”
The name zinged down his spine. “Saoirse.”
“What are you doing?” she asked with a shiver.
“Bringing you to the sand, little merrow.”
“I thought you wanted more treasure?”
“I do, but first I want you to be certain that nothing you do will ever disgust me.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
“Now, let’s see how long you take to change back to the long-legged lass who captured my attentions long before she became magic.”
Saoirse collected more “treasures” in the small bag she had made from Manus’s shirt. He seemed to like them, and she enjoyed making him happy. The creases at the corner of his eyes made something in her belly quiver. His hearty laugh echoed through her soul until she dreamed about the sound.
Manus was slowly becoming a part of her. She held the knowledge of him in th
e deepest parts of her heart, hiding him from other merrows.
Her sisters commented that she seemed so much happier than she ever had before. Her smile was brighter, her laughter lighter, even the way she swam was much more graceful than they remembered.
They couldn’t understand it. They didn’t understand the concept of love at all.
Saoirse was certain this feeling was the elusive gift that only humans understood. she loved him. Nothing else could explain the lightness of her being whenever she looked at him.
Treasures stuffed his shirt so much that she feared it would rip. Perhaps that was all she would need. He couldn’t ask for much more, how else would he carry it away?
He talked about leaving all the time now. She spent most nights at his side, watching the stars and listening to his stories. The land was a wondrous place full of people she would soon see.
He said he would take her with him. Saoirse was certain he wouldn’t lie about such an important thing. He must love her though he hadn’t said it. Manus looked at her with such gentle eyes, touched her with loving strokes, but never inappropriately.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and twirled. Her hair funneled above her in a coiling mass of dark green.
“Love,” she whispered. “What a strange emotion it is.”
It made her sick and happy at the same time. She sometimes couldn’t feel the tips of her fingers because of it.
A shadow passed overhead cast by a massive dark form blotting out the sun.
She flinched. “Hello, guardian.”
The beast did not respond, but when did they ever? Instead, the large female paused and stared down at Saoirse with a massive eye.
“Do you need me for something?”
Silence echoed in the water, but Saoirse could almost feel the creature’s thoughts. Guardians never spoke, yet Saoirse was certain their emotions were strong.
Disappointment radiated in great blasts that stirred the waters to churning. The guardian didn’t like Saoirse disappearing so often, and it knew where she went.
“He loves me,” she whispered, toying with the frayed strings of the shirt. “He wants to take me away from this place.”
The deep hum echoing around her suggested the guardian did not agree with her.
“He wouldn’t lie to me.” Saoirse called out. “He couldn’t. It’s not within him to be so cruel.”
But they were all cruel, the guardian sang in her mind. All humans had the ability to be cruel and were regularly. It was human nature, and they could not swim from that. Saoirse needed to be careful before she left the ocean for good.
Twitching her tail, Saoirse floated up and touched the guardian’s large cheek. “I will be careful,” she said. “I promise. I will not give my heart to someone unworthy of it.”
Her heart stuck in her throat as the song changed. Be careful, the guardian reminded her. Be careful and be wise as so many merrows are not.
Saoirse pressed a kiss to the guardian’s cheek. “Don’t worry. Even if I go to land, I will always return home to visit you.”
She hoped. She twisted away and flowed through the water as quickly as she could. What if she couldn’t return to the ocean? What if in leaving, she was also saying goodbye forever?
Saoirse was young. The idea of an adventure and a new love was tantalizing. She hadn’t considered that she might never see her family again. The taste of salt on her lips, the songs of whales so far away she couldn’t see them. Would those all disappear from her life forever?
She wasn’t sure what she would do if that were the case. Saoirse frowned and skimmed the bottom of the ocean. She was close to the isle, close to where she would need to decide what to do about Manus.
She reached out and touched her fingers to the sand. It plumed in great scattered clouds, obscuring her vision. She was used to the weightless quality of the ocean. She’d discovered life on land was harder. Her body easily tired, weary from days fighting against the pull of the earth. She struggled to walk, to run, to move.
In the ocean, she was graceful. Her body moved like that of the dancers she heard of in stories. She could do anything she wanted under the water. Speed through the waves, leap into the air above them, or dive into the dark depths.
Would she be able to continue that?
No, she knew she wouldn’t. The land would suffocate her. It was what the land did. It took everything from the creatures who lived there and devoured them whole. The land even ate them after they died, worms and bugs feasting upon the bodies until they were little more than bone. Somehow, it felt different when those creatures were fish that then provided for merrows.
The sight of their own grisly deaths terrified humans. Saoirse remembered well a sailor who had seen a skeleton upon rocks. The horror in his gaze haunted her dreams for many years.
She clutched the bundle of treasures to her chest.
“It won’t be like that,” she told herself. “You won’t be alone. Manus will be with you, and he is part of you now. He is part of your soul. You are part of his. Together, there will be no fear, no hunger, no ache.”
She had to believe it. Otherwise, what good was life?
Saoirse flexed the strong muscles of her tail and pushed herself towards the surface. Maybe seeing him would make her feel better. He would understand her thoughts; he must experience very similar ones himself. She would talk with him, let him pet her hair as he so loved to do, and calm both their minds.
She poked her head above the surface and searched the beach for him.
There. Where he always was. Lying in the sand like a great sea lion, the sun playing across his features and darkening his skin to a deep chocolate.
Butterflies took flight in her belly. They fluttered up her throat until she swallowed, hoping to still their beating wings for fear they would erupt from her lips and reveal everything she felt. That she was mad about him. That he invaded her dreams and even in those he smiled with those crinkled eyes and said the same words over and over again.
“I want to know everything about you, and I will find nothing disgusting.”
He hadn’t. Even the slime from her tail dissolving hadn’t resulted in anything more than a simple shrug.
“It’s part of you, Saoirse. If I am uncomfortable, it will only be for a few moments. I am pleased that you exist, my pearl. Do not fret.”
And she hadn’t. For an entire week she hadn’t thought a single angry word at all. Until today. He had to know their time was limited. That she only had three more sunsets before she had to choose a husband, and unfortunately a human was not in the running. If they were going to flee, they had to do it soon.
She swam to shore and tossed her findings next to him. He sat straight up with his fists raised, the loud clanking sounds startling him.
Saoirse pressed her fingers against her lips, giggling through the crevices. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew I was coming.”
“You’re a silent swimmer, my pearl.”
“I splashed!”
“The ocean splashes regularly, that doesn’t mean it’s you.” But he wasn’t angry at her. His eyes crinkled at the edges and he bit his lip as he looked her up and down. “Are you coming out of the ocean today?”
“No.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why ever not?”
“I thought you would like to come into the ocean with me.”
“I'm not as strong a swimmer as a merrow.”
“No one is. But there is much I would like to show you. The world under the waves is a beautiful place, and it would be selfish of me to keep it to myself.”
He pondered her words, tapped a finger against his chin, and eyed her carefully. “Where are we going?”
“The place where I found most of our treasures.”
His eyes slashed towards her, gold shimmering in the depths of his dark eyes. “There’s more?”
“There’s always more.”
“You’ve captured my attention, my pearl. How far beneath t
he ocean is this trove?”
“Not far. There are pockets of air within, I believe you will make it to the shipwreck if you are a strong swimmer.”
“Didn’t I tell you the ocean is in my blood?” he asked with a snort. “A wreck you said?”
“An old ship.”
“Any markers?”
She hadn’t ever looked. Human markers meant little to her. They put something on everything, little details that claimed ownership over yet more material objects.
She shrugged. “Not really. It's filled with these though,” she gestured at the golden coins. “And it was dangerous to swim through the first few years. There was too much fabric.”
“Silk?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Saoirse didn’t understand why he was so interested in the cloth. It was annoying at best even though she had yanked a dress out of a sunken ship just a few nights ago. He was distracted by her nudity, at least that’s what he told her.
Maybe he was excited for the adventure. She plastered a bright smile on her face and shook off the ominous feeling. “Are you ready?”
“You want to go now?”
“The sun is up, the water is warm, and the wreck is waiting for us.”
She held her breath as he looked her up and down. “How strong of a swimmer are you, my pearl?”
The question was strange, but one she was proud to answer. Flexing the muscles of her spine, she lifted her fluke and let it slap down on top of the water. “Very strong.”
His grin was the sun, the moon, and the stars. It split across his features and warmed the usually hard expression that always made her wonder whether he was angry. Creases formed at the edges of his eyes, his shoulders shaking with some unknown mirth.
“Good,” he said with a nod. “So am I.”
Without hesitation he stood, stretching his arms over his head. The movement was graceful as if he was already diving underneath the waves.
Saoirse sighed and planted her chin on her fist. His beauty still stunned her. Merrows were used to their own feminine beauty, but never that of masculine perfection. And how could she not admire him? The ridges of his strong body were made by years of hard labor. Each scar told a story, each bump a tale of hardship and endurance.