To Enchant a Mermaid

by S. L. Williams

  The nauseating stench of blood, smoke, and malicious magic hit me as soon as my foot landed on the other side of the hedge. I was assaulted by a wave of unfiltered magic that knocked me to my knees.

  I blinked against the onslaught of light that brought tears to my eyes. I closed my eyes and shook my head. It was impossible. I couldn’t accept what my eyes were seeing. I knew Sarai was strong. I’d known it from the day I tried to push through the invisible wall in her mind that had lashed out and left me dizzy and afraid, but I never imagined the amount of magic that had been contained within.

  Power visibly crackled around Sarai’s body like a second skin. Her braids were blown back from her face on an unnatural wind, and her eyes glowed like twin moons. She was chaotic yet graceful. Her beauty wasn’t one an artist would sit down and causally paint. They would go mad trying to capture the essence that was Sarai.

  “I may not be able to send you to the Void, but I can do to you what you have done to me.” Sarai’s vibrant voice rang through the clearing.

  Lightning split the sky, and a strong wind had the trees bowing before her. She swept out her arm, and I was knocked back by a gust of air. Angry gray clouds gathered above us.

  “Sarai!” I shouted. Her name was swallowed by the relentless wind, yet she heard me all the same.

  She turned and looked at me with ageless eyes. What had to have been seconds felt like hours. I saw the ocean in her eyes, turbulent and unrelenting. It pulled me into that maelstrom and threw me into the tumultuous storm.

  By the time she averted her gaze, I was out of breath and trembling in my skin. That wasn’t Sarai. Not truly. The being that inhabited her body was not of this world or the next.

  Her gaze drifted toward the trees where a mass of shadows twisted and curled like smoke. Sarai walked toward the trees with her hand outstretched. Blinding light gathered at the tips of her fingers. It illuminated the forest and chased away the shadows, exposing a face I knew too well.

  “Erapi,” I gasped as I jumped to my feet.

  He was the source of the malicious energy that soured the air. Erapi, a spirit of pandemonium and strife, had made Etan its vessel. My brother was nothing more than a puppet for the God of Destruction.

  My jaw clenched as I fought an internal battle. How would I help him? Even if I managed to find a way to separate the Erapi from his body, Etan wouldn’t be the same. That taint of evil would always remain. I would have to spend the rest of my life watching over my shoulder. Would I be able to live with the fact that I hadn’t tried to save him? He was my brother. The last of my blood. All I had left of Mother.

  I rushed in their direction. “Sarai! No!”

  She ignored me and snatched Etan up by his robes like a rag doll. He fought against her hold and began to scream. Sarai cocked her head to the side, as if listening to someone at her ear, and nodded. Her body began to glow, and the scent of burning flesh chased away the rotten air. The shadows beneath the trees writhed as if they too were in pain.

  Light traveled from Sarai’s hands and into Etan’s body. Every vein beneath his skin was lit from the inside out like a paper lantern. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth grew slack. His body went limp, and smoke rose off of his bubbling, blistered skin.

  I turned my head to the side and emptied the contents of my stomach. I’d questioned whether to save my own brother, and that split second had cost his life. I had committed a betrayal of the worst kind. I was no better than the Erapi.

  The wind slowed, and the howling ceased. I looked up at Sarai, who was staring up at the moon with silver tears streaming down her face. She closed her eyes and the glow that surrounded her lessened in intensity.

  Etan’s body slipped from her grasp. He fell to the ground where he turned to ash that the wind quickly scattered across the lawn. Nothing was left where Etan had stood minutes before.

  Sarai lowered her gaze. She cocked her head, as if someone were whispering in her ear, and slowly turned to face me. “Kamryn?”

  My name had never sounded so charming. It was like a cold glass of pineapple water on a summer’s day. “What did you just say?” I didn’t think she realized she had spoken out loud.

  As Sarai took a step back, her eyes became hard. “Another apparition.”

  I could listen to her talk all day and night. Her voice was the gentle touch between lovers. It brought images of silk sheets and warm summer nights.

  “He truly is gone.” She wrapped her arms around her body and rocked back and forth.

  I stepped forward with my arms out. “When have you ever seen an apparition that looked this good?”

  I felt silly, like an adolescent boy who was ready to court his first love. This wasn’t like me. I couldn’t seem to come up with the words to wipe that sullen look from her eyes.

  She took a step forward and hesitated. Her eyes were guarded, as if I would turn to smoke before her. The look on her face was almost comical. She had been around the dead and carried the essence of a goddess within her, yet she found me intimidating.

  “It’s me. I haven’t crossed over quite yet.” I took a cautious step in her direction. Her shoulders relaxed, and a faint smile tugged on the ends of her lips.

  “It looks like you have walked to the seventh circle and back.” A soft sob escaped from her lips. The heart-wrenching sound cut through my unexplainable insecurity.

  I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around her. I nuzzled my face in her hair and took a mind-clearing breath. My fears were released on the exhale.

  “Sarai, you are…” Amazing. Awe-inspiring. Glorious. None of those words did her justice. I carefully moved her dirty hair from her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. “My Sarai, you are a goddess made flesh.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Sarai

  The trip back to Irkalla was easier than the journey into the marsh. With Isabis gone, the illusion she had created broke, and what was once swamp became verdant green grasslands. It began to rain as soon as we crossed through the gates.

  I told Kamryn what happened after we had become separated. It was difficult telling him about Etan and how easily Isabis had sacrificed him so that the Erapi could rise. Guilt gnawed a hole in my stomach. I wanted to feel sympathy for Etan, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel much more than pity.

  He had been willing to sacrifice me to acquire what he desired. If Isabis would have granted him the power he wanted, I wouldn’t be here. His greed had been his downfall.

  Three months later, fall arrived, and we were still struggling to accept what had happened. We had sent shadows out in search of Isabis and the Erapi, but so far, nothing had been found. It was as if the earth had opened and swallowed them whole.

  “The Erapi is still out there.” Kamryn cut a blood-red rose from one of the bushes in the garden and began to pluck the petals. “Isabis escaped. Etan is dead. And I am now in charge of two kingdoms when I barely wanted to run one.”

  The monster I thought I had defeated was only a xandi that Isabis had created with the ashes from the bonfire. It looked like Etan because it had been birthed from his charred bones. Once the vessel had been burned, the Erapi had escaped, and now only the Void knew where it could possibly be.

  I shivered at the thought of it waiting in the shadows for the next spiteful soul who was willing to throw their life away for their selfish wants. It was bound to happen, and we would have to prepare for that day.

  Rose petals drifted into the white wicker basket at our feet. Cyntheria had run out of the dried petals and had asked that we collect more for her special teas. I loved it when Kamryn sprinkled sugar on top and made them into crunchy confections. He hadn’t been in the mood to cook lately, and I couldn’t blame him. I was glad he had finally left his studies and come out to the garden with me.

  “I’m sorry.” I placed my hand on his knee. “You have Rylo, Cyntheria, and me. We might not be kings, but we can help with the less important things.”

  We would ne
ver turn our backs on him, and I wanted to make sure he knew. He wasn’t in this alone. I wouldn’t be able to wipe the pain that came from the loss of a loved one from his heart, but I could be there for him while he dealt with it. We needed each other, especially now that Isabis and the Erapi were out there.

  He placed his hand over mine. “I feel like I’m stuck in a dream. It doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I sit at my desk and begin to write letters…” He cleared his throat and looked away. “And I forget he will never get them. I feel like he’s still there, comfortable in his castle, being harassed by his advisors and Phadrah. I should have been there for him more. Maybe if he had someone to tell him he was enough…that he was already an amazing king…”

  I grabbed his chin and turned his face so he met my gaze. “Don’t blame yourself. A wise man once told me that we can think about what we could have changed, but if we dwell too much in the past, we will remain there.”

  “You think I’m wise. You have a good sense of judgment.” A small smile played on his lips. It didn’t reach his eyes, but it was a start. It had been weeks since he had shown any emotion. Today felt like a breakthrough.

  “I have received a summons from the grasslands. Babba wants us to come and stay with the tribe for a few days.” He didn’t look too happy about the idea.

  “Really? He invited us? As in you and me?” The grasslands…Mother had trained under the Babba who led the tribe. They were reclusive and rarely invited visitors. I was honored to have received an invitation.

  “Yes, us.” He pointed at my chest and then at his. “I’m debating on saying no.”

  He knew it was all talk. He wasn’t going to deny the summon. He was upset with the shaman, but he wasn’t mad enough to disrespect him in such a way.

  “When do we leave?” I knew why I had been included. It wasn’t every day that a goddess chose you as her human vessel. The only ones who knew what truly happened in the marsh, besides me and Kamryn, were Cyntheria and the shaman. “Kamryn, what happened to the dragon?”

  He looked up at the sky as if the beast would suddenly appear. “I don’t know where the dragon came from or where he went.” His brow furrowed. “It’s the first time I have heard of any leaving the mountain. Maybe it was drawn to your magic.”

  Maybe, but something told me he was one of the reasons Isabis had run away. He had set her hut on fire, and by the time the sun rose, it was nothing but coal. Sclena’s mirror had survived the blaze. It had been lying on a pile of coals as if someone had placed it there for safekeeping. When I pulled it from the ash, it was as cold as the day I had pulled it from the underground lake.

  “I have seen so much since I arrived. Sometimes I sit back and feel like I’m an imposter. This life can’t be mine.” I had gone from sheltered mermaiden to Sclena’s vessel. I had lost everything, but I’d also attained so much. I was different, but in a good way. I was stronger in both body and mind. Some days, I would let my mind drift to the past, and I thought about how different life would have been if I had never left the sea, but I didn’t let myself stay there too long.

  “It feels like that sometimes.” He picked another rose. “When you feel like you have finally found your footing, the gods pull the rug from beneath your feet. It’s up to us whether we lie there and cry or stand up and keep trying.”

  “I’m going to stop trying.” I shrugged. I could fight all day, but I knew from my internal conversations with Sclena that the gods were volatile. One day, they loved you and showed you favor, and the next, they took everything you held dear. All for their own entertainment. At times I liked to believe Sclena was different, but deep in my heart, I knew that wasn’t true. She was like her fellow gods, maybe worse since she had a temper that rivaled the sea during a full moon. “Whatever happens, happens. We will get through it. Together.”

  He smiled, and this time, it was genuine. His jewel-toned eyes shined like the polished coins in the goblin trove. “Sing for me, Sarai.” He placed his hand on my cheek. “Make me forget about my troubles, if only for a minute.”

  I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes. I was wary of my magic. After experiencing how it felt to have no control, I had more respect for the gift I was given. It wasn’t to be used lightly, but this evening, in this magical garden, there was a man who was broken. If I could relieve him of his pain for even a second, I would, and that’s exactly what I did.

  He laid his head in my lap and closed his eyes. I trailed my fingers over the lines that had formed around his lips from clenching his jaw. I traced the dark bags beneath his eyes that had formed from nightmare-filled nights. I gently pulled on his curls and softly scratched his scalp. I sang until his body went slack and he began to snore.

  I didn’t wake him. I leaned back on the stone bench and admired the beautiful white moon lilies that had begun to bloom beneath the moon’s silver light. They released a fragrant perfume that reminded me of the time Kamryn had made his delectable caramels. I had devoured the entire batch and had a stomach ache that lasted an entire day.

  I chuckled at the memory and sighed. It was a beautiful evening. The air was warm, and a cool breeze chased away most of the heat. The garden was flourishing, and Kamryn was here with me. Sometimes I cried for my family, but things would get better. I would find a way to help them, but until then, I would appreciate the now.

  I bent down and placed a light kiss against Kamryn’s lips. Things weren’t perfect, but I was happy. At the end of the day, that was all that mattered. Everything would fall in place. All we could do was take it one day at a time.

  “He may be a little rough around the edges,” I whispered to the moon and the stars. “But he is mine, and I will stand by him forever.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Sarai

  “Babba, what needs to be done?” Kamryn asked the gray-haired shaman.

  It was our second day in the grasslands and the fifth time we had been summoned to the hot tent of the tribe’s chief. He was their healer, leader, and resident spiritualist. He was very old and very wise.

  Babba began to speak in a low guttural language and threw a handful of cowries onto a grass mat. He stared at the shells and scooped them back into his hands. I choked on the thick smoke that was streaming from the white sage bundle he was burning in a gray clamshell.

  He tossed the cowries down a second time and said something in another dialect, this one light and airy, and frowned. He cast the shells a third time, closed his eyes, and began to rock in place. His eyes rapidly moved beneath their lids, and his lips mouthed unspoken words.

  I looked at Kamryn, who was staring intently at the shells. The space between his eyes was furrowed, and his tongue was sticking out of the side of his mouth.

  “The shells don’t make sense. I feel disconnected.” Kamryn threw his hands in the air and sat back on the straw mats.

  “The message wasn’t meant for you.” The shaman opened his eyes. He blinked slowly, like the cows in his field. “It is for her.”

  “Me?” I looked at both men. “I don’t know how to read shells.”

  They looked at me as if I had announced that I would burn down their village and abduct the women and children.

  “Magic is frowned upon back home,” I tried to explain. “It is for the goddess...” I put my hand on my forehead and felt my face warm.

  I am a goddess. It was a title that felt immoral to use. To claim you were a god felt like an affront to the true gods, the old ones who remained detached from the mortal world.

  Sclena is a real goddess. She is me. I am her. We are one and the same, I repeated the mantra that I spoke into the mirror every morning. I always found myself searching for signs of my divinity, but my face remained the same. It was difficult to convince myself that I was a goddess.

  The wrinkles in the shaman’s face deepened. “Magic is a gift given by the gods. It is our connection to them and our ancestors who have crossed into the next realm. Things have changed since I last spoke with the merfolk. The exti
nction of the Silenda was a great cultural loss, but you are the connection to the past and the future. Sclena chose you, child of both land and sea. You will usher in a new age.” He pulled a pipe from a cloth sack at his waist and filled it with coarse tobacco. “But before you can change the future, you have to know of the past.”

  After stuffing his pipe and lighting it with a snap of his fingers, he puffed and let out a cloud of gray smoke that twisted and curled into shapes.

  A young woman with glorious silver-and-black wings formed from the smoke. She swayed back and forth with her long arms spread over her head. When she smiled, dimples formed on her cheeks.

  “He loves me!” She twirled on the tips of her toes. “Me, out of all the stars in the vast heavens. Remilukan wants me,” she softly sang and held up a flower.

  The shaman spoke in a low, entrancing tone. “There was once a young star who shone bigger and brighter than any other star in the sky. Our ancestors used her light to guide them on their journeys. She was so important they gave her a name. Isabis, Guardian of Merchants and Travelers.”

  Another figure joined the woman. A man with strong shoulders and a broad chest that tapered down to a narrow waist and solid legs. His silver hair and eyes contrasted beautifully with his smooth onyx skin.

  “Her beauty was incomparable. She entranced all who laid their eyes upon her, including Remikulan, God of the Moon.”

  The woman giggled and wrapped her wings around them like a cocoon.

  “One night, while the two danced in the sky, Emon, the God of Mischief, watched from behind a cloud. He ran and told the goddess Sclena—Remikulan’s lover—what he saw. The goddess was enraged. She created storms that crashed against the land and brought it crumbling to the sea. She sank ships and created monsters that trashed beneath the churning waves. Rivers went red, and everything began to die.”

  “I never knew I had a heart until it was broken. Remikulan was my everything.” Sclena’s increasingly familiar presence was like a warm shroud on a cold night.