The shaman pulled on his pipe and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “The world was thrown into chaos. None of the gods could console Sclena, and none could control her.”
Sclena’s mischievous chuckle filled my head. “I was a force to be reckoned with. They all thought me weak, but I proved them wrong. They thought I would turn the other cheek. They were wrong.”
Babba shook his head, as if he could hear the goddess’s words. “The gods took turns going to Moon. Air was first. He carried the mortals’ cries to Remikulan, who scoffed and turned his head. Earth was next. He brought a bag of dust that he scattered at Moon’s feet—the remains of the mighty mountain where he reigned. Moon only yawned and fell asleep. Nature was next.”
“Nature was the only one with sense. I loved her like a sister. She and I created the reefs that house my beautiful fish,” Sclena shared.
I tried to picture the ocean before the goddess had filled it with all the creatures that called the sea their home. I couldn’t imagine an empty ocean. Even the icy waters of the south had life.
“She brought the horn of a unicorn and presented it to Moon. ‘Even the children of the night suffer!’ she exclaimed. ‘Return to Sea and beg for her forgiveness.’ Everyone knew that Moon and Nature were close. If he wouldn’t listen to any other, he would listen to her.” Babba met my gaze and lifted the pipe to his mouth. He pursed his lips and released a long coil of thick gray smoke. “He was torn between his love for Isabis and the love he had for the world he helped create.”
Hot rage laced with the sour tang of humiliation coursed through my veins. “He chose her. After I had given him everything, he still chose her. A simple star out of millions in the universe.”
Babba averted his gaze. “The gods were furious. They gathered at the top of Mount Sinayah and held council over what had to be done. The gods argued for thirty days and thirty nights while the earth flooded and all life ceased to exist. In the end, they made a difficult choice.”
A tense silence filled the dimly lit hut. The shaman paused and looked down at his pipe. He emptied the ashes before carefully stuffing it once more. He took his time lighting the dense tobacco, and I knew he was intentionally dragging out his story.
I leaned forward on my mat. “What happened?”
He smiled and blew out smoke. “Every morning, when the sun rose, Remikulan and Isabis said their farewells and went their separate ways. One day, Isabis was going home, but before she could return to her rightful place in the sky, she was caught by a net made of sunlight and air. A spell was placed upon her, and she was thrown from the heavens.” The shaman cleared his throat and took a drink from a hollow gourd. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy. “She has walked the earth ever since.”
Kamryn shifted uncomfortably. “That doesn’t excuse what she has done. What happened to her was horrible, but we weren’t the ones who hurt her.”
What he said was true. The gods were the ones who’d cursed her, yet she chose to take her anger out on us. All this happened thousands of years ago, long before our great-great-grandparents were born. She had to understand that us mortals were not to blame.
The shaman spoke, and it seemed like the air itself was listening. “Isabis holds centuries of rage within a broken heart. She was removed from her home, separated from her sisters, and torn from her twin flame.”
“What is that?” I asked Kamryn, who wouldn’t meet my gaze. I turned back to the shaman. “What is a twin flame?”
“A twin flame?” The shaman frowned and looked at Kamryn, who shook his head. “A twin flame is a soul who has been split in two after ascending to a higher state of being. It can also be called a mirror soul, and it is a bond. An unbreakable one that spans lifetimes.”
I rose onto my knees. “Like a soul mate?”
“No, it is quite different. A soulmate is a separate soul that you can relate to, one you are compatible with. A twin flame is your other half.”
“It sounds so confusing,” I admitted.
I always thought that was what a soul mate was. Your other half, the one you couldn’t live without, your very reason for breathing.
“It feels that way because it isn’t meant to be understood. Love is multifaceted. We can sit down and talk about all its variations for days, and that would hardly scratch the surface.” Babba smiled softly. “But that isn’t what I was trying to show you.”
I looked at the old man and shook my head. “I understand her anger, I really do, but what she has done to so many cannot be forgiven, and I can’t forget what she did to Etan, or that she released that monster.”
All those bodies that hung from trees, all those lost souls who risked everything to find happiness. She had used them like one would use a dishcloth and left them out to dry. They had families who missed them. Loved ones who grieved when they never returned.
“It is not for you to forgive.” The shaman held both hands in the air. “We have to remember that she is a product of her hate, and Etan chose to side with her.”
Kamryn reared back as if he had been struck. “You believe he deserved that?”
I understood his need to defend his brother. I would do the same for my sisters. The love for your siblings was like no other. You couldn’t help but love them no matter their faults and mistakes, but we had to learn we couldn’t fight all their battles. We all had to face the consequences of our actions.
“That is not what I said.” The shaman closed his eyes and sighed.
“He doesn’t mean to offend you.” I placed my hand on his arm. “He just wanted us to know why Isabis is the way she is. We don’t have to accept it.”
The shaman nodded. “That is true. But I also wanted to tell you why she cannot be killed.”
My mouth dropped. “We can’t kill her? Why?”
Were we supposed to let her walk around the earth, doing what she had been doing? Ruining lives, summoning monsters from the worst circles of Irkalla?
“She is connected to Remikulan,” Kamryn muttered and clenched his fist against his thigh. “Harm done to her is harm done to him.”
“The god who allowed her to be captured and cursed to begin with?” I grabbed my braid and twisted it around my hand. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
The shaman cleared his throat. “You speak, but you know nothing. You saw, yet you didn’t see.”
“Sarai, this isn’t a black and white situation. There is no right or wrong. The gods are more than that.” Kamryn’s eyes darkened. “We are speaking of greater powers, ones we can never hope to comprehend. Remikulan never forgot about Isabis.” He gently detangled my hair from the amethyst ring I wore on my middle finger. “If something happens to her, it will trigger events this world isn’t ready for.”
I pushed his hand away and yanked the ring out of my hair. Multiple brown strands were tangled around the stone. “If we don’t kill her, she will kill us. If we do kill her, we face the wrath of a god. Are we going to sit here and do nothing? What about Etan?”
“Babba, the beast that was summoned,” Kamryn leaned forward, “how do I get it back to it's circle?”
“It will not be an easy task.” The shaman placed his fists against his knees. “Erapi is a monster born from jealousy and spite. It has only grown more powerful with time.” He collected his shells. “Sarai will have to accept the position she has been granted. She will have to learn to harness and control the power she has been given.” He placed the white cowries in my hand. “Toss the shells, for they have a message to tell.”
“Ah. My favored shells. How I missed them. Toss the shells, Sarai. Let’s see what Mother Fate has in store for us.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what life had in store. I’d had enough excitement to last a lifetime.
I shook the shells. I just wanted to see my family. I wanted to make sure they were okay. I wanted to make sure the Erapi was contained and locked away in Irkalla where he couldn’t spread his poison among the mortals. I wanted peace and happy days. I h
oped the shells could tell me how to achieve that.
I scattered the cowries on the ground and stared at the image they formed. It took a second for my brain to register what my eyes were seeing. I shook my head and went to pick them up again. I must have thrown them too hard.
Babba placed his hand on mine. “The message has been delivered. Tossing them again will not change it.”
I sat back and cradled my hand against my chest. I didn’t need him to read the shells. I heard their message loud and clear.
Rotan calls.
“What is it?” Kamryn leaned over my lap and studied the shells.
I stared at the shiny white cowries and sighed. A wish come true or a warning for what was to come? I wasn’t sure, but that didn’t stop the hair on the back of my neck from rising, and it didn’t loosen the knots in my stomach. I was going to go home. I just didn’t know it would be so soon.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “That is Father’s trident. It’s time for me to go back to Rotan. My family needs me.”
* * *
“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.”
—Nelson Mandela
To Enchant a Mermaid Page 33