Immerse

by Tobie Easton

  It would be so easy to believe those words, like I have so many times before. To step aside and let it happen. It took all my strength to write my mother’s name and now I feel so drained, like I have nothing left. An image of Caspian outside rises in my mind. I still don’t dare look toward the window, but I can feel his gaze on me through the glass. Knowing he’s there—that I’m not as alone as I seem—keeps my breathing even and my feet planted.

  I strain my fingers, pressing the palm with my mother’s name farther forward. Then I lock eyes with my father and mouth the four words I’ve been terrified to ask: “Did you kill her?”

  His face clouds and his head tilts. “What?”

  I’ve started shaking, hard, but I mouth the words again, slowly this time, making sure each word lands before I move on to the next. “Did. You. Kill. Her?”

  My father’s eyes widen and he takes a faltering step back, away from me and the name on my palm. “No. How could you ask me that? How could you even think …? No. Of course I didn’t kill your mother. Of course not.”

  They’re exactly the words I yearn to hear. And their tone rings true.

  But his top lip is uneven as he sucks down on one side. The same as it was on our last visit before his escape. He’s a damn good liar, but it’s the one tell he’s never managed to erase from his performances.

  In that moment, I know. I just know. And the truth kicks me in the stomach.

  I can’t breathe. Heat blazes in my face, pressing against the backs of my eyes and nose. The shaking intensifies, all over my body now, and my legs tremble so badly I crumple to the floor.

  “Liar! Liar!” My silent shouts tear through me with such force that air erupts from my throat.

  “No,” my father says again, more vehemently than before. “You know how much I loved her. You know I could never—”

  Ondine stays him with a delicate hand on his arm. “The time for lying has passed, Filius. Lying diminishes you and underestimates your daughter, the way your wife did. Melusine is not a child. You cannot expect to rule with her if you shield her from the meaning of necessary sacrifice.” His nostrils flare and he glares spears at her, but Ondine squares her shoulders. “She needs to learn, and it is our duty to teach her.”

  All the air in my body is gone. And for once, I’m glad I can’t speak because I wouldn’t know a single thing to say.

  My father apparently doesn’t know either because all he does is tighten his fists by his sides. It’s Ondine who bends at the waist and says, voice more comforting and melodic than ever, “Your father didn’t do what he did lightly. He did it for you. To ensure your future.”

  I stay crumpled on the floor, unmoving, barely breathing.

  “Mel, I’m sorry this happened,” comes a whisper from behind me. Clay. “It’ll be—”

  Then a sharp hiss of pain as my father’s foot rams into Clay’s stomach. Hard. “Don’t you talk to her,” my father threatens. “I enjoyed knocking you unconscious earlier. I’ll gladly do it again!”

  “Clay!” Lia exclaims, her back bowing as the boy tied behind her doubles over in pain. She twists as much as she can to look at him. I’m sure she’ll find a way to blame me for that kick, but I can’t care about her right now.

  My father … killed my mother.

  My father killed my mother.

  It doesn’t feel real. This isn’t real life.

  His long hands grab my upper arms and haul me to my feet. He holds me right up close to his face.

  Some of his anger now expelled at Clay’s expense, he says, “You know I loved your mother. And you know she wanted great things for you. It’s what she and I always planned together. But when we found the human descendant of the prince and the time came to plan the move Above for the ritual, to teach you the siren song in case you needed it, to ready you to sacrifice him, she suddenly decided it was all going too far.” He shakes his head, a disgusted expression taking over his face. “Too far? It was necessary.”

  He’s still gripping my upper arms, and he pulls me up so high I have to stand on my toes. My legs feel so shaky that I know I’d fall if he let go, but I want him to all the same. I focus my gaze away from him on an empty, safe spot on the floor.

  “Look at me!” he shouts. I can’t.

  I can’t.

  “LOOK AT ME.” He’s practically spitting. I drag my gaze up to meet his. There’s a wild animal thrashing behind his eyes and he can barely control it. I swallow back the bile in my throat, but I can’t stop the fear from filling my every pore.

  “It was necessary,” he says again, straight into my eyes, which he traps with his own. “In time, your mother would have seen reason. I know she would have. But with the anniversary of the curse approaching, we didn’t have that time. She said she was going to tell you not to listen to me, not to do any of it. She said she didn’t want to put you through it. But I knew you could handle it, and I could not have her poisoning you against me. She was trying to limit you, Melusine. Limit what we could achieve. She would have ruined everything. Do you understand?” He gives me a sharp shake. “Say you understand.”

  The room falls into terrible silence in the absence of his yelling as he waits for my response, keeping my face up close to his, too close. I do the only thing that might calm him, might make him release his bruising hold on me: I give a small nod.

  He releases me at last and throws his head back, some of the ferocity melting from him now that I’ve appeased the beast.

  I do understand. I understand that none of what I’ve done since my mother’s death is what she wanted for me. I’m not the Mermaid she wanted me to be.

  “She was in our way, Melusine. She had to be dealt with,” my father says, nodding at me with a fervor that hints at fanaticism. But I’m done nodding back.

  “You should start the chanting now, Filius,” Ondine says with quiet assertiveness. “If you don’t, we’ll have to give both of them potions and keep them unconscious until tomorrow night. They’re already all set up.”

  I curse inwardly. It was stupid of me to think I could just delay them. This isn’t like the immortality curse—it isn’t tied to an anniversary. They can do this ritual any night there’s a moon. They’ll keep Lia and Clay as long as they have to. Out the window, the moon continues its rise at a slow crawl. Despite everything I’ve just put myself through, there’s still time for them to finish this tonight

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” my father says to Ondine, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling the tension in his shoulders before turning to where I still stand in front of Lia and Clay. “Go back to the palace now, Melusine, and wait for me while I take care of this.”

  Like he took care of her.

  I won’t let him hurt them the way he hurt my mother.

  I raise my right arm straight forward, holding up the hand emblazoned with my mother’s name. Blocking him.

  But I’m no match for his strength. Within seconds, he grabs me, spinning me around so my arms are pinned against his chest. “Get the ropes,” he shouts to Ondine. “You’re angry. We’ll discuss this later,” he hisses in my ear.

  Three things happen at once.

  Glass shatters and spills across the floor as Caspian uses the hard exterior of his grandmother’s copper potions case to break his way into the room. He rolls in among the shards and jumps to his feet.

  In the same instant, Clay shouts, “You need ropes?” and throws the seaweed restraints that bound him and Lia into my father’s face as she and Clay leap up.

  Lia pushes Ondine backward into the bottles of potions strewn across the coffee table. Ondine loses her balance and falls to the floor as vials clatter around her.

  “This way,” Lia says to Clay in the seconds that follow, tugging him by the wrist. They run for the back staircase.

  All that twisting in their ropes while they cowered on the floor in silence—they were working their way free! Even with the commotion, admiration fills me.


  Lia stops on the stairs and calls out, “Caspian!” Her wide eyes tell me she can’t believe he’s really here. “We need you. This way! Bring everything!”

  In the chaos, my father’s hold has loosened.

  I rip myself free just as Caspian lifts his copper case and rams it into my father’s side, sending him to the ground.

  “Come on!” Caspian shouts, holding out his hand.

  I stare down at my father, who’s already fighting his way back to his feet.

  Then I take Caspian’s hand, and we run after Clay and Lia.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Lia

  Clay is faster than I am on land, and soon he’s passed me on the stairs.

  “Where are we going? Why aren’t we heading outside?” he shouts as he takes them two at a time.

  “There’s no way we’ll reach help before they catch us.” Not when they have magic and potions that can drug us into unconsciousness. “And we need somewhere private,” I gasp, ignoring the stitch blooming in my side as I rush upward. “Keep going. Up to the attic!” When Clay and I were spending so many hours hiding out in this house, I went scavenging up in the attic for anything useful. Unlike the front staircase, the back one leads all the way up, a detail I remembered as I looked through Clay’s eyes and saw the start of the stairs in the hallway off the kitchen.

  “You have a plan?” he asks.

  “I have a plan.” It’s a reckless, probably stupid plan, but it’s all I’ve got.

  I glance over my shoulder; I don’t see Caspian. All I can do is hope he’s following. Hope he makes it to us before Ondine and Mr. Havelock do. If he doesn’t …

  Clay reaches the attic door and holds it open for me.

  I run in, and he goes to barricade it behind us. I stop him. “Don’t!”

  “What? Why?”

  We have to leave it open for Casp, but I don’t say that because if I do, Clay will know what I’m about to try. Instead, I say, “Where’s the dagger?”

  “Huh? Oh, it’s in my boot.” He smiles, unable to stop the pride coloring his voice. “It’s the one place I figured two Mer wouldn’t think to check. When the Tribunal patted me down before making me drink the memory potion, they never checked my shoes.”

  But I’m barely listening. I’m already digging into his Doc Martens, first one, then the other, until my hand closes around the ruby-encrusted hilt.

  I draw it out.

  Blood. Blood.

  Its whispers fill my head the same as they did before.

  This time, I’ll give it blood.

  “What are you doing?” Clay asks, instinctually pulling back from the blade that almost killed him.

  With my heart still pounding and adrenaline flooding my system, I’m tempted not to answer, to start right away so I can save him and stop the ritual, consequences for myself be damned. But there’s one snag … “Your pants,” I say with frustration, like I’m cursing. “You need to take off your pants.”

  “Lia, you know that’s a sentence I definitely appreciate hearing from you, but now really isn’t the time to—”

  “You need to take them off. The denim will soak up too much of the blood.”

  “The blood?” His eyes widen and he gasps. “Lia, you can’t.”

  “I can and I have to.” Fear invades my voice and quickens my breath. “You heard what they said! They’re going to use us to split our worlds apart. All the humans will die.” My words come faster and faster. I can hear the edge of panic in them, but I can’t stop it. “All of them, Clay! Your mom, your dad, Kelsey, everyone at school, people we’ve never met. And all the animals.” I picture Barnacle and almost burst into tears. “It’ll work. The ritual. Ondine designed it, and it’ll work. But they can’t do it without us and our bond. I represent the Mer, but you, you represent the humans. Don’t you see? If you’re not human anymore, their ritual can’t work. We have to make you Mer. Right now.”

  Shouts and a bang like a body hitting hardwood erupt from down the stairs. Fighting. Is Caspian hurt? Will he get here before Mr. Havelock and Ondine reach us? I can’t wait another second to find out.

  My hands shake as I step close to Clay, fumbling for the top button of his jeans, my movements awkward since I still hold the dagger in one hand. He grabs both my wrists, halting my efforts but not pushing me away from him. Holding me. “You can’t do it without Caspian’s replenishing potions. You’ll bleed to death!”

  I shake my head. “Maybe not.” My breathing still short, pearls roll down my cheeks and clatter on the dark wood slats of the floor. “Not if Caspian makes it up here in time.”

  If it were just for Clay, just to make Clay Mer, I’d never risk it. No matter how much I love him, I’d never do this without those potions in place, ready and waiting to ensure my safety. But this isn’t just for Clay anymore. How can I not do it, when it’s the only way to save all those people?

  “I have to!” I say again, trying to pull my hands free of his grip. He holds firm. “It’s the only way to stop their ritual.”

  “I’m not letting you die. Not for anything.”

  I stare into his hazel eyes. “Not for your whole world?”

  His face tightens against the intensity roiling behind those eyes. He shakes his head. “I can’t risk you.”

  I break my hands free of his grip too fast for him to stop me. “I have to stop the ritual.”

  Like the Little Mermaid before me, I look back and forth between the dagger in my hand and the love of my life.

  “Lia, don’t do this,” Clay says, his voice somewhere between a command and a plea.

  Would I have listened to him? Neither of us will ever find out.

  Because at that moment, the door swings open.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Melusine

  We don’t have stairs in the ocean. When you don’t get legs until you’re ten years old, and you don’t set foot on a stair until you’re seventeen, the sight of a staircase sends your pulse racing. Every time.

  Stairs get easier, but never easy.

  They’re even harder when you’re running up them while being chased.

  By the time I pass the second floor, I’m ready for each new step to be the one that trips me, that sends me spiraling into Ondine’s clutches.

  She’s only a few steps behind me now, and my father will catch up to her any moment. What’s worse is that Caspian has had years more practice climbing stairs than I have, and I know that holding my hand is slowing him down, putting him in danger.

  That’s why, with Ondine closing in, I let go of Casp’s hand. “Run!” I shout.

  Then I turn back to face her.

  Ondine is having an even harder time on the stairs than I am. She’s frail from Lia’s magic-suck and her long white dress isn’t helping—but her piercing gray eyes say she’s as determined to succeed as ever. She must be pushing everything she has into maintaining her legs.

  So I push, too. I put my hands on her bony shoulders and push as hard as I can.

  She falls backward, mouth agape.

  And slams directly into my father behind her. He shouts as the two of them tumble down the stairs, hitting the second-floor landing with a bang.

  All I can do is hope I can catch up with Caspian before they recover. I turn back around to run after him.

  But he’s standing right there. He never left.

  “This’ll be faster,” he says. He bends down, and strong arms lift me over his shoulder.

  With my torso now hanging down his back, he presses my legs to his chest, holding me against him with one hand and picking the copper case back up with the other. Then he runs the rest of the way up the stairs, and from over Caspian’s shoulder, I watch my father and Ondine get smaller and smaller as we ascend.

  When we reach the top, Caspian kicks the door open and the world erupts into yells of chaos.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Lia

  “Get
in! Hurry!” Clay yells to Caspian. Casp rushes inside, Melusine dangling over his shoulder.

  But I can’t waste time thinking about his hand gripping her thighs or what her presence here might mean. As soon as my gaze lands on the copper potions case he carries, I shout, “Barricade the door!” Then, turning to Clay, I say, “Caspian’s here now.” Which means there’s nothing left to argue about. I’m going to do this. We’re going to. “Take off your jeans,” I tell Clay.

  “Huh?” Caspian asks, setting Melusine down and looking between Clay and me.

  But I don’t answer. I just wait for Clay to nod.

  “Barricade the door,” he says to Caspian.

  Then his hazel gaze meets mine, and he nods.

  I’m dimly aware of the scrape of an old dresser across the rough floorboards as Caspian and Melusine push it in front of the door. But then my world narrows to Clay.

  Clay, who toes off his boots, then undoes his jeans, the denim rustling as it skates down his legs and leaves him in a pair of blue cotton boxers. Clay, who stands before me in stark relief against the dark brown wood that covers the floor, walls, and triangular, eaved ceiling of this small attic room.

  Clay, who strides toward me, lies on the floor on his back, and looks up at me with eyes both more vulnerable and more determined than I’ve ever seen them. “Ready,” he tells me.

  I swallow and kneel, holding his gaze as I drape myself on top of him.

  I shift against him as I settle into position, and he shifts beneath me, our bodies pressed together from shoulder to ankle. His chest rises and falls with his breath. Sweet, heady breath I can taste against my lips as they hover just above his. We share the very same air, like we share everything.

  My miniskirt rides up and my bare legs skim his, skin to skin. I’m warm all over now. And growing warmer despite the fear still coursing through me.