by Emma Hamm
“I can’t do it, Alannah!”
“You can, and you will! Push!”
Saoirse grunted and threw her muscles into the job at hand. She had to bring her daughter into the world. Not because Alannah wanted her, the matriarch was kinder than she pretended to be, but because she wanted to see her. Before she died, she wanted to see the child she and Manus had created.
Her spine arched in pain, her gills sealed shut, and her tail lashed wildly. The merrows holding her arms helped, allowing her to squeeze their hands when necessary.
For hours she writhed in the open blue of the ocean. For hours her blood stained the water in spurting clouds and then, nothing at all.
Exhausted, she fell limp in their hands. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Alannah surged forward, strong hands framing Saoirse’s face. “Stopping now will only hurt you and the babe further. You have little time, Saoirse.”
“I’m trying!” she wailed. “I have tried for hours and I’m in so much pain.”
“Just a little more. Just give us a little more or we will intervene.”
She knew what the hidden words meant. The worth of merrow lives were measured in years. Saoirse was older, and therefore less necessary than the child within her belly. If she could not bring her daughter into the water on her own, they would slice her open and pull the babe out themselves.
A part of her wanted to ask them to just get it over with. The end was near, and her torment would be over.
The other part remembered the worried expression Manus wore when she stubbed her toe or sliced her finger on the sharp edge of a letter opener. He wouldn’t want her to give up so easily.
The waters echoed with a low grumble. Deep and reverberating, the sound was a song she remembered. Almost immediately, Saoirse’s body fell limp in the arms of the merrows who parted like a wave for the being swimming towards them.
Her lips parted in a soft sigh as the guardian’s hand reached for her. It scooped her from the grasp of the merrows and carried her close to its chest.
“Hello,” Saoirse panted. She touched the shell in her ear to ensure it was still there.
The whale song of a guardian filled the waters, quiet and steady as the waves. “Welcome home, little merrow.”
“I am in pain. My child does not want to greet the waves.”
“Few do.” The guardian shifted its fingers, gently rubbing its thumb over the swell of her belly. “Will you accept my assistance?”
How could a guardian help? Saoirse didn’t know what it could do but nodded her head. She would accept anything at this point.
“This will hurt, little merrow. Know I am not doing it to cause you pain.”
The giant thumb pressed down upon her belly. Pressure swiftly became blinding agony. Saoirse tilted her head back and let out a wail that echoed through the waves. The merrows flinched back, lifting their spears as they prepared to threaten the guardian.
Saoirse held out her hand, palm out and fingers spread. They needed to remain calm. The guardian didn’t mean to harm her, it didn’t want to, but it also wanted to help save her child.
It pressed harder, just enough that she felt something inside her give. A bloom of red burst, a cloud that preceded the weak cry of a baby.
She reached out her arms, unable to see the child but knowing it was there. Her soul blossomed, spreading petals like the roses she had seen on land. Her daughter.
Her daughter.
“Give her to me,” she whispered. “Please, can I see her?”
The guardian’s finger shifted, ever so gently, and a tiny body floated towards her on the current.
Saoirse grabbed her daughter and snuggled her close to her chest. She was a tiny little thing, all tail and head with tiny fingers already grasping the strands of Saoirse’s hair. Her eyes were open and so dark they looked like the dead of night.
The little one was already swishing her tail back and forth, ready for a hard life under the sea.
Cradled in the guardian’s hand, Saoirse could curl around her daughter and hold onto her tiny fingers.
“Welcome to the world,” she whispered. “I won’t be here long with you, but I want you to know how much I love you.”
“Many things change, Saoirse,” the guardian sang.
“What do you mean, honored one?”
“There are whispers in the waves. A ship approaches.”
Her fingers curled against the baby’s back. “A ship? How soon?”
“The wind travels slowly, but they ride the waves with determination. The seagulls say the man who stands upon the bow shouts your name.”
“Manus,” she breathed. “He has come for me.”
“Is coming, little merrow. You will need to hold on for a while longer.”
Saoirse held her squirming daughter to her chest and vowed she would stay sane. There wasn’t much time left, but she could do it. The knowledge that Manus was coming eased some pressure in her mind.
She wasn’t herself, but she could remain alive for a little while longer.
The guardian removed its hands, letting her drift down into the waiting arms of the merrows below. Saoirse floated with her daughter held against her chest.
Coos greeted them.
“Oh, she’s beautiful!”
“Look at her, what delicate features.”
“Such tiny fingers!”
Alannah pushed through the crowd and reached out her arms. “Congratulations, Saoirse. Let me see my new daughter.”
“She is my daughter.” Her steely tones made the other merrows freeze. They released their hold on her arms and shoulders, letting her stay upright under her own power.
Alannah’s brows drew down. “What?”
“I am not yet dead. This is my daughter until my body turns to foam.”
“That was not part of our deal, merrow.”
“It is now.” Saoirse looked up. She couldn’t see the surface, but she could feel he was closer to her now than ever. “My husband comes for me.”
“He is not welcome in faerie waters.”
“And still, he comes.”
Manus would know the dangers of faerie waters. He’d lived it before. Knowing that he would brave such dangers for her warmed the cold corners of her heart, cracking through the ice she had built around herself to remain safe.
Danger awaited him at every corner, and she didn’t know how to help. The merrows would attack the ship as would the guardian. Though the gentle giant likely wanted to help, it would do what it was made to do.
Destroy.
She shivered, then turned to meet Alannah’s frigid gaze. “This is my family. I came to you for sanctuary, believing there was nothing I could do to mend my grief. I have a chance now to give my daughter a real life. With a father and mother who love her, to help her become a better woman than we can give her in the waters.”
Something shifted in the tattooed woman’s gaze. She sighed and relented. “You are right. Merrow life is not easy, and I would not wish it upon a child if there was another option. We have already informed your family of your predicament. They have agreed to disown you as you have married a human. If you believe this man is good and worthy of a merrow child, then I will concede she is your child.”
“Will you grant him sanctuary in these waters as well?”
The steel returned to Alannah’s spine. “If he comes into our territory, we will tear his ship to pieces. It is our way, Saoirse. You know this to be true.”
She did. And though it made her shiver, it also set her resolve.
Now she could prepare for the storm barreling towards them. With a child, there was no chance she could meet him. A ship was large, and she was small.
Saoirse’s best option was to wait for him to reach her. Then, with what little time she had, she would plan a way to save him.
Their daughter gurgled and tugged on Saoirse’s hair. She grinned from ear to ear when Saoirse glanced down at her.
&n
bsp; “Your father needs to name you,” she whispered.
She was bound and determined that he would.
Manus held onto the railing of the ship, staring fiercely out to sea. Footsteps behind him cracked on the sodden wood.
“Captain? We’re nearing faerie waters.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” His first mate stood next to him. “Ah. Yes, of course.”
A wall of storm clouds marked the edge where it was safe for the ship to travel. Manus remembered this darkness all too well, the terrifying roar of thunder, the bright blasts of lightning.
But more than anything else, he remembered the deep grumble of the guardian, bodies floating beneath the waves, and the gentle caress of fingertips on his cheek.
“Captain?”
“What is it?”
Manus knew what the first mate wanted. He wanted a plan which would ease the minds of the crew. They wanted the reassurance their captain wasn’t completely insane.
Sailing into faerie waters was only done by those who had a death wish. Everyone spoke of what happened, the horrifying fear of what might happen to those who tried to make their way into the Otherworld. Death awaited them.
Manus didn’t want to disappoint his crew. He spun on his heel and strode across the deck.
“Men! Leave your duties for a moment and gather here with me.”
They dropped their ropes, brushes, and brooms, rushing to cluster around the captain few of them knew.
Manus hadn’t chosen these men for their talents. He didn’t care if they knew a ship up and down, he half expected the ship wouldn’t return with them. These sailors needed to be brave, to know about the Fae, and to risk their lives at a moment’s notice.
“I cannot promise you a treasure,” he said when they had gathered around them. “I cannot promise you glory. But I can promise that you are about to see something few men have seen before. What awaits us in those waters is dangerous, large, and wants nothing more than to kill us.”
The men began to shift. Small movements caught Manus’s eyes. The twitch of fingers, the bounce of a leg, the drawn down brows. They were afraid of what might happen, and what he might say next.
“Death awaits us, boys. Death and honor and glory. You are here for an adventure of a lifetime, and that I promise you shall see in mere moments. We sail to the edge, kill the sails, and set down the anchor.”
“Captain,” his first mate interrupted. “The sea is too deep here. The anchor will not halt our progress.”
“It’s not to stop the ship. It’s to give the faeries something to climb.”
With that said, Manus turned on his heel and returned to the bow of the ship. They would follow his commands, he’d paid them to do that, and it didn’t matter his plan was insane. They weren’t technically going into the faerie waters.
Killing a ship in the middle of the ocean wasn’t the smartest move. He didn’t know if the guardian would think they were too close and grow angry. It was always a possibility.
But there was also a chance he could speak with it. Saoirse spoke of the creature as if it were intelligent. Surely, if that were true, it could also be reasoned with.
The sails fluttered in the sudden wind as his crew turned the ship directly towards the storm. He trusted his first mate to guide them and stood with his arms crossed watching the waters.
Manus needed to be ready. He needed to make sure the crew had a chance at living. He wouldn’t be like his previous captain who’d sailed them directly towards death. He knew better.
They slowed at the edge of the storm. The sails slapped as they were drawn down, the anchor chains rattled as men dropped them over the side. Manus savored the splashing sounds and prayed they would work the way he intended.
Everyone held their breath, waiting. The crew stilled; not even the slightest exhale could be heard. They stared towards uncharted territory and prayed their deaths would be swift.
Rain barely touched the deck. It was a wall of splashing movement close enough to touch and obscure their vision.
Manus knew the intention behind the storm. It wouldn’t sink a ship, he’d been in enough widow makers to know that. The rain was a warning, the thunder a sign, and the lightning a screaming cry to turn back now.
They didn’t have to worry about anything above the waves.
“Captain—”
Manus lifted a hand for silence. He narrowed his eyes and waited just a bit longer.
They didn’t have to wait long. A smooth back crested the water in the distance, pale gray and effortlessly graceful. It might have been a whale, the arched spine was familiar, but Manus could see the long tendrils of dark hair flowing down the guardian’s back.
A sailor let out a choked sound.
“Get below deck,” Manus called out. “Man the port sides and turn the cannons boys. If we have to fight, then we’ll give them the fight of their lives.”
The slapping feet rushing below deck was enough to set his heart racing. A fight with a guardian wouldn’t last long. It was too big, too strong, and he wasn’t convinced the guardian he had seen was the only one in the ocean.
A deep groan rocked through the ship. The wood beneath his feet vibrated with the sheer force of her call.
“Captain?” his first mate asked again. “What in the name of God is that thing?”
“That is a faerie.”
“Faeries aren’t that big.”
“Some of them are. Some are terrifying and beautiful, others are just terrifying.” Manus lifted a telescope and watched her approach. She raced towards them far faster than any mere whale could. “That is a guardian. She watches over the merrow pods and ensures no humans cross into territories where they shouldn’t be.”
“Like us?”
“Precisely.”
Manus set his jaw and dropped the telescope. The guardian would be upon them in moments, and he needed the ship to remain intact. He had to force it to listen to him, even for a few moments, and perhaps leave his men alive.
He hopped up on the railing of the ship, holding onto the sail ropes to balance himself.
Tilting his head back, he shouted into the wind, “Guardian of the seas, we beseech you to hear our call!”
His shout rang loud and true. It carried through the wind and struck the water as if he had dived into the waves. The guardian did not slow.
Again, he tried, “You have a merrow amongst your charges who belongs to me! I have come to beg her forgiveness!”
Did the guardian slow? To his eyes, it appeared the guardian hesitated for a moment before returning to her charging pace.
“That merrow is my wife! I left her for adventures on the sea, and I was wrong. I wish only to confess my folly and beg her to return to me.”
The guardian reached their ship and reared out of the water. She loomed above him, rivers of water pouring off her shoulders and splashing upon the deck.
Her skin was paler than he remembered. Gray, but also with no color. Shadows played across her pronounced musculature, and he shivered when he realized she put most men to shame. Her entire body was made of rip cord muscle.
Scars laced across her shoulders and chest. Small breasts suggested this one was also female although he had no way of knowing for certain. She stared at him with black eyes, no whites to make her appear human. They were so focused upon him he almost didn’t notice the lack of nose and wide gill slits upon her neck.
Manus watched in horror as the gill slits slapped against the side of her neck, vibrating with the deep bass he now knew was the guardian trying to speak.
“I cannot understand you, great beast of the deep.” He swallowed through the raspy fear in his voice. “I ask you look upon me with pity. My crew is below deck, we have no wish to fight you. But I will do everything in my power to find my bride again.”
The guardian cocked her head to the side, throat working as she tried to convey something to him.
Manus wished he could understand her. He wished he
knew how to speak to a creature this large, but he didn’t. And the reality was if this creature didn’t want to help him, then he would do whatever it took to die with honor.
“I will only ask you one more time,” he warned. “Where is my wife?”
The guardian did not move. She seemed to be waiting for what he would do next.
He suspected she had never seen cannon fire before. Most ships wouldn’t have had a chance to fire at her, they never would have seen her.
It was a shame to attack such a creature. She was beautiful in the same way the sea was beautiful. Strong, powerful, achingly dangerous, but otherworldly.
He nodded. “All right then. You will protect her until the very end, I see that now.”
Manus glanced over his shoulder at his first mate who was staring up at the beast with mouth agape.
“First mate.” His words lashed across the ship like the crack of a whip. “Fire the cannons.”
“How is the babe?” a merrow asked. She swam close to where Saoirse and her daughter were tucked into the edge of a cliff. “It’s not often we see a new one born in our pod.”
“She is well.” Saoirse lifted her finger, the baby’s hand wrapped tightly around it. “Already stronger than I expected she would be.”
“She’s quite beautiful. Like her mother.”
“Oh, I think she’s strong like her father.” She looked down at the child and marveled at how much she looked like them. Manus’s strong nose, her own dark eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw likely from both her parents.
The merrow reached out and traced a finger between the baby’s eyes. Saoirse’s daughter scrunched up her face, not crying yet but warning she might.
Both women laughed at her antics.
“She knows what she likes,” the other merrow chuckled. “She will be a handful when she’s older. The last merrow who did that when I touched her was Alannah’s first daughter.”
“Alannah had a daughter?” Saoirse asked in surprise.
“Yes. She lost her long ago. The girl's favorite pastime was deep sea hunting, she had scars on her back from the battles. A giant squid finally got her. They said it was a terrible death, but that she killed the beast on the way down.”