Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  Most mermaids probably envy me; I probably would, too, if I was them. I’d lived in the insulated womb of the palace my entire life, pampered by handmaidens, every luxury provided, every whim entertained. And all the spoils of this kingdom will be entrusted to me upon the commencement of my marriage.

  But the palace is just a gilded prison, and the royal raiments no more than shackles. My spirit has been imprisoned since birth, now my body will be as well.

  The courtyard swarms with merfolk, readying the grounds for the ceremony, tails of every color swishing eagerly. I find it funny that they are more excited than me, and a laugh escapes, the bubbles rising above me and disappearing into the waves. The crowd parts as Meribel and I swim through, but no one comments on the look of panic that must be etched across my face.

  The front of the palace is bright with sunlight, but it looms before me, cloaked in shadows only I can see. They descend upon me as I enter the vacant foyer, the rapid beat of my heart suddenly pounding in my ears in the absence of other sounds.

  Very few merfolk are allowed inside the palace on a regular basis — just myself, my grandfather, and the royal staff, most of which lived on the premises. Meribel included.

  When her mother, a young, unmated mermaid, turned up pregnant and no merman came forward to take responsibility, my grandfather hired her as my handmaiden, and her daughter became my live-in playmate. Only one year of age separates us; we’ve spent our entire lives together.

  Today, my marriage will divide us in more ways than one.

  Meribel and I swim to my room, a wide, open space decorated with my favorite varieties of coral. The stone walls are covered with perfect rows of salmon-colored scallop shells, and dozens of small windows let in the light but keep out intruders. My nest is piled high with soft sea sponges that tempt me to curl up and sleep away my heartache.

  “There you are, Coral! Where have you been? I’ll barely have time to braid your hair at this rate.” Muriel, Meribel’s mother, puts her hands on her hips and flaps her fins at me. Her long hair, more white than blonde now, is tied up and out of the way.

  “I just wanted one last swim before…” I stop myself before I say any of the words I’m thinking. She’ll frown at all of them.

  “Your life isn’t ending, Coral-Lee. You’ll swim again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day…” She frowns at me, anyway.

  I don’t bother arguing. She’s heard it all before and doesn’t sympathize with me. But my silence doesn’t spare me her side of the argument.

  “What more do you want, little fish? A merman to sweep you off your feet and carry you to an enchanted kingdom? Wake up, Coral-Lee. You have the ocean’s treasure right in front of you! Would you rather be one of the common folk who nest in the sea grass and spend their days chasing their next meal?”

  What she doesn’t say is, would you rather be Meribel, a mermaid who’s losing her true love to her best friend? But I hear the question, anyway.

  What I don’t mention, for it would be anathema, is it isn’t the common merfolk life that I dream of, either. It is the world outside our realm I long to see. My mother’s world.

  I wonder if Muriel remembers the questions I peppered her with when I was a merling. I wanted to know everything about the mythical humans who walked on legs and crossed the sea in giant boats, the wind pushing their sails towards distant shores.

  Muriel had been to the surface once, before the spell was cast, and she told me of the ball of light that lit the sky and the creatures that flew through the air, squawking as they dove into the water to snatch a fish.

  She’s never been on land, but she’s seen it, she’s watched the water crashing on the shore in frothy waves from the relative safety of an outcropping of rocks that peeked above the water. She said the sand extended past the sea and disappeared under a canopy of giant trees with thick, tall trunks topped with waving fronds. What lay beyond was just as much a mystery as the sea beyond the reef.

  I envy even this tiny glimpse. My own head has never broken the surface of the water, never even gotten close, and as long as my grandfather lives, it never will.

  For generations, mermaids of mating age ventured onto the land to mate with humans, ensuring their hybrid offspring would have the ability to live on land or under the sea. They were supposed to return and marry mermen, raising their merlings to love the sea, but as human civilization grew more advanced, some of them stayed on land, tempted by the pleasures of the human world.

  Like my mother.

  When she came back, pregnant, and told my grandfather that she was going to make her home on land, he forbid it. She insisted, and he didn’t want to lock her up to keep her here, but he didn’t have the same qualms about imprisoning me. When I was born, he allowed her to go, but only if she left me behind as his only heir. He never expected her to agree. But my mother loved the human world even more than she loved my grandfather and our people. Even more than she loved me.

  To ensure he would never lose me, he called upon a sea witch who cast a spell not just on me, but on everyone in our shoal. Mermaids could only survive on land for five days, and after that, they would die if they didn’t return to the sea.

  But my grandfather won’t allow me even this. Instead, I’ve been sentenced to the sea forever. It is my duty to lead our people.

  My mind wanders again to Muriel’s story about the world above the water, and I try to picture it, but my imagination isn’t vivid enough to create a world so different from my own.

  “I’m going to go find Kai,” Meribel says, tired of watching me ponder in silence. I don’t begrudge her one last goodbye.

  Muriel gives her a look that hints at a previous conversation, and I can imagine how it might have gone. I’m sure she wishes her daughter could have the man she loves, but Muriel is too practical to dwell on fantasies. She understands her place in our shoal, and her daughter’s, and she knows that, even if Kai wasn’t destined to marry me, he would never be allowed to marry Meribel.

  “The kitchen has prepared a hundred pounds of shrimp, scallops, and yellow fin tuna for your party guests, all your favorites.” Muriel tries to distract me from my malaise as she puts the finishing touches on my hairdo, but it will take more than the thought of a tasty dinner.

  Instead, I imagine all the merfolk laughing and smiling, chatting about mundane things like the currents and the banal accomplishments of their merlings as they nibble on hors d'oeuvres, oblivious to the fact that the death knell is ringing on my freedom.

  Muriel finishes my hair and reaches for a gleaming, mother-of-pearl box that I’ve never seen before, holding it out to me. I lift the lid, revealing a custom shell bra, made for a queen. My fingers trace the intricate designs engraved in the abalone shells and the tiny pearls that outline the edges. I’ve never seen one so beautiful.

  She lifts it carefully from the box and secures it in place; it is a perfect fit, of course. The delicately-carved shells are surprisingly lighter than the simple clamshells that most mermaids wear, but the weight of their significance lies heavy on my chest.

  She steps back to admire her handiwork and nods, smiling, then reaches for my hand mirror, a treasure from the human world that my mother left behind. She holds it up for me to see my reflection.

  The face looking back at me is solemn, with large, blue eyes, high cheekbones and a delicate nose over tiny, red lips. People say I’m beautiful, and mermen stop to stare at me as I swim, but what difference does it make if my mate has already been chosen for me? Most would say that Meribel, though lovely, is not as beautiful as me, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference to Kai.

  I nod, satisfied with my appearance, and Muriel smiles at me. “I’ve never seen a more lovely bride, Coral-Lee.”

  Just then, Grandfather raps on my doorframe and peeks his graying head around. A wide smile wrinkles the corner of his rheumy eyes, and his plump cheeks pink with pleasure. His barrel chest is puffed with pride.

  “Oh, Coral! You look beaut
iful. Just like your mother did at your age.” His eyes glaze over with memories, and his smile slips. He shakes his head and pulls his gaze back to the present.

  As stubborn and overprotective as he is, I love my grandfather. He’s the only family I’ve got. I just wish I could fulfill his desires without sacrificing my own.

  “I do believe the entire shoal is camped in our garden, awaiting your debut, little starfish. Will you be ready soon?”

  Panic seizes my chest. The guests have already arrived? It’s too soon! I suck in deep gills full of water, trying to calm my heartbeat.

  Kai and Meribel enter the room, looking a little guilty, and I suddenly wonder if they’ve been kissing. Grandfather made it known from the beginning that Kai, the oldest son of the highest ranking family, would be chosen as my suitor, so he and Meribel have never openly admitted their feelings for each other, but it’s been written all over their faces since we were old enough to know what mating meant.

  “King Aegeus, might I have a moment alone with Coral before the ceremony?” Kai asks, bowing his head slightly in Grandfather’s direction.

  Grandfather looks at Kai, a twinkle of amusement in his eye, and smiles. “Of course, Son. We’ll give you two some privacy.”

  Kai approaches me cautiously as the others file out. His black hair has been freshly shorn so it waves only slightly in the water, and he holds a branch of coral in his hands. His chest is bare, but soon he will wear a royal necklace that matches the one waiting for me. His dark eyes seek mine.

  “I picked your bouquet.” He holds out the coral, and I accept the traditional bridal gift.

  “Pink bird’s nest is my favorite,” I say, admiring the intricate structure.

  “I know.” He smiles. We’ve been friends for years; Kai knows everything about me.

  “Thank you, Kai. It’s perfect.” Just like him.

  Kai is perfect husband material. He’s kind and handsome, smart and sensible, funny and easy going. But he’s not in love with me. I can’t begrudge him; I’m not in love with him, either. I’d like to think that we’ve been friends for too long, and that’s why there’s no chemistry between us. But that didn’t seem to stop him from falling for Meribel.

  My grandfather pushed us together from an early age, having already decided on Kai as my future suitor, and he, Meribel, and I spent every free moment together. But while our friendship blossomed, it never deepened into the kind of love that binds two souls together as mates.

  I will never feel that kind of love, and Kai will have to give it up.

  He reaches up to cup my cheek, lifting my face to his. His mind searches for the right words to say, but he doesn’t know what they are any more than I do.

  “I love you, Coral,” he tries.

  “I love you, too, Kai,” I whisper back, pretending what I feel for him is enough.

  He reaches out and hugs me like he’s done a thousand times, but this time it feels strained, awkward.

  “Are you ready?” he asks, and I nod.

  “Well, let’s go then.” He loops his arm through mine, and escorts me through the hall towards the back entrance.

  I can see the merfolk crowded outside in their finest jewelry, holding conch shells and tittering in anticipation. Kai approaches a guard and tells him we are ready to proceed, and the guard blows a giant conch shell to announce the start of the ceremony. The crowd parts and turns towards us, creating a path to the statue of Atargatis, the goddess who created our kind, where Grandfather is waiting for us with the royal officiant.

  Meribel and her mother are waiting by the doorway, and they give us both a quick hug. The guests raise their conch shells and start to blow, creating a wall of bubbles, and swish their tails towards the center, creating a current meant to carry us forward.

  But the raucous effect is too much for me, the cacophony like an army advancing in attack, and my heart seizes in panic at the claustrophobic passageway in front of me. I can’t do this; I can’t swim voluntarily into a future that looks so bleak.

  Instead of swimming forward, I panic and kick my fins as hard as I can, yanking myself free from Kai’s hold and pushing myself upward, higher, higher, into the water above. The bubbles embrace me in an airy cocoon, lifting me higher still.

  I keep swimming, propelling myself toward the surface with frantic energy, ignoring the sharp ache in my joints and the tightness in my chest, intent only on escape.

  The water grows warmer and brighter the higher I go, but the currents are stronger, and I feel them pulsing against me. Suddenly, my body bursts out of the water, and I gasp as air fills my lungs, driving out the water. I choke on it, spitting out water, and sucking in the nothingness.

  My eyes dart around, but the surface does not look anything like I imagined it. Muriel said the sky was the color of a blue tang fish, with a yellow sun the color of its tail to warm the air, but this sky is dark and cold, with large, gray, menacing blobs floating above. Water falls from the sky in thousands of tiny drops that sting my skin, the exact opposite of the curtain of bubbles my wedding guests had created. Suddenly, a jagged line of light flashes in the sky, and a loud sound rumbles around me.

  A wave crashes down over me, burying me, and I fight my way back to the surface, but the water tosses me again and again, assaulting my body, till I no longer have the energy to fight it.

  Exhausted, I close my eyes and let the water take me.

  2

  Mermaids do not believe in an afterlife. When we die, our bodies turn to sea foam that disappears into the sea. But I am in another world, whether or not I am still alive.

  My body feels warm, as warm as the water gushing from the vents deep in the bottom of the sea. But now the heat radiates down on me from above. It is strange, but pleasant. Underneath me, the sand is cooler, but hard against my body. I am not floating. I am completely still, like the dead. I wiggle my fingers to make sure I still can, and sand sifts between them. It feels grittier than normal, and the tiny grains do not cling to each other but instead cascade through my fingers. I slide my hands deeper, enjoying the sensation.

  Muriel had tried to describe the sensation of dryness, the absence of water, but I could never understand. Now, I know what she means. My skin feels tight, and the air caresses it more gently than the water.

  I open my eyes and quickly shut them again. The light is so bright it blinds me. I crack them open slowly, letting the light filter through my lashes till my pupils adjust to it. Once they have, I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I raise my hands to shield my eyes from the brightness, but the movement surprises me. They feel heavier and lighter at the same time, and I struggle to control them. A few grains of sand are stuck to my fingers, and they fall into my eyes. I try to rub them out, and my eyes start to sting. Water drips down my cheeks, leaving a tiny, wet trail.

  Eventually, my eyes are clear, and I gaze up into the sky. I’m rewarded with the sight Muriel had described — a vivid, blue sky and a yellow sun that is too bright to look at. The light is so much dimmer filtered through the water. Puffy white blobs have taken the place of the dark ones that were there before, and I stretch out my arm to touch them, but realize they are too far away. Is the sky like the ocean — so big you can never see the end of it?

  I turn my head, and suddenly realize this is where the ocean ends. The water rushes up onto the land but only goes so far before the sea pulls it back again, leaving only foamy bubbles. I watch it, mesmerized, for several cycles before turning my head the other direction. Just like Muriel claimed, there are tall trees with floppy, green fronds, and my fingers itch to touch them, but I’m distracted when a tiny crab scuttles by.

  My stomach feels empty, and I think about grabbing him, but is he safe to eat? I don’t recognize his kind. Maybe I could return to the water to catch a fish instead.

  My head aches, and I lift a hand to touch the offending area, wincing at the swollen lump. When I pull my hand away, it is tinged with blood.

  My body feels so heavy,
I don’t know how to move it. I raise my head, ignoring the throbbing, and press down with my arms till my torso lifts, propping myself up with my hands, but as soon as I look down, I scream, and the noise frightens me so much I fall back.

  My tail is gone! In its place are two appendages with the same skin as my arms, with a joint in the middle like my elbow, but bending the other way. My fins are shorter, thicker, with a round knob jutting out the back and tiny appendages like fingers at the ends that I’m able to wiggle.

  I flex my new fins carefully, exploring their range of movement, and giggle when I manage to roll them both around in opposite directions. The sound amuses me, and I do it again, amazed that no bubbles escape.

  I pull myself back up and try to bend my… what are these things called again? Legs, I think. Muriel used to entertain my endless questions about the human world, based solely on the knowledge she’d gleaned from others who’d actually walked on land before. But I gave up the fantasy of ever seeing it for myself many years ago and quit asking about it. Fantasizing about it only depressed me. But now, I’m here! And woefully unprepared. A million questions I wish I’d asked flood my mind. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out on my own.

  I manage to bend my legs, wrapping my arms around the joint in the middle — knees, I think they’re called. I know humans stand on their legs, but for the life of me I can’t figure out how to get up on them. I flop around on the sand for quite a while, twisting my body into different positions. Eventually, I roll onto my stomach, plant my hands in front of me, and bend my legs, shuffling them forward. I know it’s not how humans walk, but at least I’m moving. I’m embarrassed by my clumsiness, but no one is around to see me. Where is everyone, anyway?

  I head towards the water, intent on catching something to eat, but as soon as my fingers touch the water, a thought occurs to me, and I pull them back, terrified. The curse allows five days on land before I’ll die, but what happens if I go back in the water? Will my tail reappear? If it does, will it turn back into legs when I come out again, or will I have forfeited the rest of my time?