Breakwater

by Catherine Jones Payne

  “No!” the crowd roared.

  He held out his hands. “Do you think your children are safe while the naiads haunt the city?”

  “No!”

  I floated in a little closer and found a spot at the back of the crowd from which to observe the rally.

  “The nobles are hiring naiads instead of mer so they can afford more servants to wait on their every whim.”

  “Traitors!” murmured a young merman to my right.

  “The king is enriching himself on the backs of hard-working mer and endangering us all with the dark naiad arts!”

  A mermaid in front of me bobbed her head.

  Whispers of witchcraft and sorcery swirled through the crowd.

  “And now our bravest general is on trial over a little naiad harpy?” the leader said, his voice growing quieter.

  “No!” called the crowd.

  “Not on our watch! Let’s tell the king that his experiment is over!”

  A cheer rose up from the gathered mer.

  “Expel the naiads! Kick them out!” the leader yelled.

  The crowd began to chant. “Kick them out! Kick them out! Kick them out! Kick them out!”

  My skin chilled. It was time to leave. As I turned around, I ran straight into a mermaid with blood-red hair and a black tattoo of a webbed-foot dragon that coiled from her forehead to her left cheekbone.

  “Watch it!” she barked, shoving me backward.

  In my scramble to right myself, I lost my death-clutch on my cloak, which fluttered out of my hand and to the reef floor.

  Panic pounded white-hot in my veins, and the edges of my vision grew fuzzy as I made eye contact with the tattooed mermaid who had pushed me.

  She raised her eyebrows, and a wicked grin curled her lips. “Well, has the little high-class traitor come out to play?”

  “Please keep your voice down!” I whispered desperately.

  “Looks like we have a little princess here!” she shrieked.

  Every eye in the crowd turned toward me. I tensed and turned in the direction of my own canal.

  She grabbed my fin and jerked me back. Pain shot up my tail, and I scraped my hands against the sandy seafloor. She yanked me up and pulled me through the crowd, toward the leader who had been railing against the naiads and the king.

  I clawed at her arms, but she was stronger than me. When she reached the front of the crowd, she dumped me in front of the merman who had been speaking.

  “Andronicus, look what I’ve brought you!” she sang.

  Andronicus’s eyes flickered all the way down my body, and I crossed my arms over my chest. I glanced up toward the ocean surface. I knew I couldn’t escape the crowd at canal level, but perhaps if I shot up fast enough, I could get enough height over them to slip away.

  If I swim out over the drop-off, they won’t follow. But I wondered if the drop-off would be any safer than the angry crowd if I didn’t have Kiki with me.

  Andronicus followed my gaze upward. “Don’t even think about it,” he murmured.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed. “You’re in stormy waters.”

  “Vashti, Sula, hold her.” He nodded to the red-haired mermaid who had dragged me forward and a brunette mermaid with a violet fin who hovered next to her.

  Each of them grabbed one of my arms, and Andronicus drifted up to hover head-and-shoulders above the crowd.

  “Lady Jade came to our rally today!” he called. “Even the traitors to our cause know in their heart of hearts that we are right. That the mer will never be able to coexist with these interlopers.”

  The murmurs of the crowd grew to shouts. I started shaking. This is getting really bad.

  “Tell me, Lady Jade,” he said with a chuckle. “When did you decide to set up Captain Tor for murder? Was it when you took a naiad lover? Or were you just a little pawn in your friends’ plans?”

  I recoiled.

  Vashti slapped me. “The little harpy tried to get away,” she said to the crowd.

  I tightened my jaw so my chin couldn’t quiver. My cheek stung where she’d hit me, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me break down. Stay strong. Be like Mother.

  Behind me, someone I couldn’t see yanked my fin. My gills flared.

  Andronicus leered at me. “What do we do with traitors?”

  Chapter Seven

  “What’s going on here?” a familiar voice yelled.

  The roars of the crowd subsided into a gentle murmur as mer scattered up and down the canal.

  I jerked my head up and saw Maximus and a contingent of the Royal Mer Guard. Relief flooded my body. Sula and Vashti released my arms, and by the time Maximus reached me, more than half the crowd had vanished.

  Maximus grabbed Andronicus by the front of his burlap wrap. “What the depths are you doing, Ander?” he demanded. “I could have you expelled for this.”

  Andronicus held up his hands. “For what? I never touched the girl. To tell you the truth, I don’t remember who did. There was a scuffle, but I think Lady Jade might have started it.”

  I wanted to smack the smug smile off his face.

  “Do you think for a moment that the king will care about your flimsy excuses?” Maximus said. “You’ve insulted one of the highest-ranking members of the nobility. If it comes to your word against hers, your word isn’t looking very good.”

  Andronicus smirked. “I have witnesses. Dozens of mer were at the rally. They’ll all vouch that the lady wasn’t mistreated.”

  “Listen to yourself. Mother would be ashamed.” Maximus shoved Andronicus backward. “Leave, and hope Lady Jade shows mercy.”

  “Peace be upon you too, brother,” Andronicus spat. Maximus said nothing as he turned toward me.

  “I’m alright,” I managed. “They didn’t hurt me.” I kept my eyes on Andronicus until he disappeared around the nearest corner.

  “I can see a handprint on your cheek.” Maximus’s eyes narrowed.

  I gazed at the seafloor and said nothing.

  “I’m going to swim with you until you get home,” he said. “I don’t know that the canals are safe right now.”

  “Okay.” Now that it was over, I felt weak and dizzy. Nausea churned in my stomach.

  “Do you need help?” He reached for me.

  I swatted his hand away. “No. Thank you, Captain. I am perfectly capable of swimming home.”

  I started toward my house, choosing one of the smaller, more remote canals to travel down. I didn’t want to deal with another crowd of mer. I couldn’t.

  A minute later, he caught up with me. “You should lay low for a while.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. But thank you for your assistance. I really am grateful.” I forced my gills to move up and down in a steady rhythm.

  “It’s my job. The king would’ve had me expelled if I failed to intervene.”

  “You don’t have to brush it off,” I said. “No one forced you to accompany me home.”

  “You’re not my favorite mermaid in the city, Lady Jade, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you get hurt.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Listen.” We turned another corner and entered my neighborhood. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but there’s no way Tor killed that girl. He’s a good man.”

  “He admitted it to me.” My jaw tightened.

  “I can’t believe that.” His gaze turned cold. “I’m sorry you discarded him like you did. But I’m sure you had reasons.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks. “What are you insinuating?”

  He shook his head. “I just hope that whatever you’re doing is worth destroying a mer’s life.”

  “Why did you rescue me if you think as badly of me as they do?”

  “I told you. It’s my job, Lady Jade.”

  I focused my gaze on a clownfish nibbling algae off an anemone. “Well, I’m sorry to inconvenience your day.”

  I swam ahead of him, ignoring him for the rest of the awkward—but m
ercifully short—trip home.

  Pippa was still at my house when I burst through the door.

  “Lady Jade,” she said, dropping her mending. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “Please don’t tell Mother I came in like this.”

  She pursed her lips but didn’t press further.

  “Is it alright if I join you here?” I asked, struggling to inject a note of brightness into my voice. “I don’t want to be a distraction, but I’d rather not be alone right now.”

  “This is your home,” she said. “You have a right to be anywhere you want. And I don’t mind the company a bit.”

  “Do you remember much about the rivers?” I blurted out. “Before the naiads came to Thessalonike?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”

  “Were you happier there?”

  “I was more innocent there,” she said. “And life was easier, at least for a while. Until the rivers started choking us out.” Her eyes took on a vacant expression. “I came from the Wye, originally. My people tried to stay when the water levels started dropping. Eventually we moved on from the Wye and its tributaries and tried to find refuge in the Camford, but it was dying, too.”

  “So you’d rather be back there?” I rubbed my temples.

  “Well, of course,” she said. “The saltwater chafes our skin. The mer hate us. Most of all, the Wye is my ancient homeland. Imagine if you had to leave Thessalonike and adjust to life in a freshwater river. But my homeland’s just not there anymore. A few naiads said they would try to persist in the rivers, but I don’t know that they survived. We haven’t heard from them in years. Perhaps with a smaller population they found welcome in a healthier river system. But I doubt it. Naiads are territorial.”

  “Like mer?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “Worse,” she said. “The Camford naiads almost killed us when we came into their river. Probably would have if their queen Tryphaena hadn’t put a stop to it. She’s half Wye. Of course, we don’t talk about that much anymore. The Wye and the Camford naiads are all in Thessalonike together now. Personally, I think everyone who stayed ended up dead.”

  “Any of your friends stay?”

  “An aunt. She was always more sensitive to saltwater than the rest of us. Couldn’t even go on trading trips to the ocean. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”

  I hesitated. “There were some mer at a rally. They want to expel the naiads from Thessalonike.”

  She shrugged. “Mer have said things like that since we arrived. If the king ever capitulates to their wishes, I suppose we’ll travel along the coast and see if the mer of Marbella will take us, at least for a time.”

  “The idea doesn’t scare you?”

  “We’re still here because it’s easier to stay than to go, not because we really think it’s the best place for us. Most of us know it’s only a matter of time.”

  “But what if Marbella is just like Thessalonike?”

  “Then we’ll go beyond Marbella. Maybe even find a healthy river system without many naiads in it. If all else fails, we’ll strike out across the deep ocean in search of another coast.”

  “I doubt you’d find one.”

  “Maybe not. But if we track an overlander ship, I think our odds are good.”

  “The king is on your side. As are the nobles, for the most part.”

  “For now,” she said. “For now.”

  She turned her attention back to her mending, and I took up a blank tablet and a scrib and began to draw.

  Naturally, Mother had heard all about the incident with the rioters before she got home. I’d known I wouldn’t be able to hide it from her. The perils of having a parent among the king’s advisors.

  “Jade?” She swooped in the door, and a sickly sweetness in her voice told me I should flee for the drop-off. “How was your day?”

  I dropped my drawing tablet. Skub. I glanced at Pippa and then back at Mother.

  “I’m sure you have a pretty good idea.” I tried to keep my voice even and steady.

  “How many times do we have to have this conversation? Do you have any idea what kind of risk you took going to that rally?” she demanded.

  “I was the one who got hurt, so yes, I realize how badly it could have gone.”

  She grabbed my shoulders, and I jerked away from her. Her gaze landed on Pippa. “I’m sorry about Anna. And I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Pippa had gathered up her things into her hands. “Thank you for your condolences, Lady Cleo. I think I should be going.”

  “No—please stay?” I shot her a pleading look.

  Mother said nothing, so Pippa set her things down, gathered the piece of fabric she was mending, and paused to scratch her arm.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “Crab salad for dinner. Pippa, you really must stay and eat with us.”

  Mother pursed her lips. She knew what I was playing at, but I didn’t think she wanted the fight any more than I did. “Yes. Please do stay.”

  Pippa cast wary glances between my mother and me but nodded slowly. “I’d like that.”

  George had left early—Pippa said his father was sick—so Mother and I threw together a kelp-and-cucumber salad topped with crab while Pippa finished her mending. Benjamin arrived home just as we gathered in the dining room to eat.

  During dinner, we all laughed until we cried, telling stories about Anna and my father. My heart felt raw by the end, having reveled in the memories and mourned his loss all over again.

  “We’ll get through it.” I grabbed Pippa’s hand as sobs wracked her body. “You’re not alone anymore.”

  When she finally left so she could return to the naiad quarter and reach her friend’s house before dark, it startled me to realize my genuine sadness to see her leave.

  Somehow, I’ve become friends with a naiad. And I was okay with that.

  Pippa worked from our living room for the next three days. Halfway through the third day, I set down my drawing tablet and stretched. “Should we go somewhere? I’m tired of being cooped up here. We could take Kiki for a swim.”

  She glanced at the mending in her hands. “I’d love that. But what if we went back to the naiad quarter today? I think it’d do you good to meet some of the residents. Might help take your mind off all the drama in the city.”

  A thrill of excitement and nerves ran down my body, all the way to the tip of my fin.

  Pippa matched my smile. “Will your mother be upset?”

  “Not if we don’t tell her,” I said with a wink.

  “Oh, I don’t know if—”

  “Please? You suggested it. You said it yourself—it’ll do me good.”

  Her mouth twitched. “If you get in trouble, it was all your idea. She’ll eventually forgive you. I need to stay in her good graces, or I’ll have no work and no money.”

  Her ankle-length, ethereal white dress billowed out behind her as she moved toward the door, and I followed with a flick of my fin.

  “Wait,” I said as soon as we crossed the threshold. “My cloak.”

  I darted back in to grab a cobalt cloak—I’d lost my black one for good in the scuffle at the rally. I supposed I should buy another one—this one didn’t go as well with my fin and tail, but I still loved it. It used to belong to my father.

  “Take that off once we get to the naiad quarter,” she said as I tucked my hair underneath it.

  “Why?” I glanced at the other mer on the canal. About one in every five wore a cloak, though most hadn’t pulled theirs as close to their face as I had.

  “Naiads never wear anything that heavy—let alone around our heads—and so few mer come to the naiad quarter, that . . . well, naiads might make wrong assumptions about you—that you’ve come to buy hallucinogens, or worse—if you’re wearing one.”

  “Oh.” I blushed. “Cloaks don’t mean anything like that in the rest of the city.”

  She laughed. “I know, silly. Jus
t giving you a friendly heads-up.”

  We turned onto the main thoroughfare heading in the direction of the naiad quarter and passed a merchant driving a dolphin-drawn cart full of lovely fabrics that I was sure came from overland trade. I paused for a moment to gaze at the fabrics.

  When I turned back to Pippa, she was shaking her head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” She smiled at me. “We just live in different worlds, that’s all.”

  “Well, let’s explore yours.” I gestured toward our destination.

  A few canals later, we arrived in the section of town where the houses grew smaller and duller in color. The wraps of the mer gave way to the flowing robes of water and light worn by the naiads.

  I tugged off my cloak and draped it twice over one arm, relieved to swim the canals as myself again.

  “Let’s go to Camford Canal,” Pippa said. “That’s where we’ll find things to do.”

  I swam alongside her for two unbelievably slow blocks—she still couldn’t quite cast water without pain, so she walked—but when we turned onto Camford Canal, the sights and sounds chased away all of my impatience.

  “Whoa!” I pointed to a dancer in the middle of the canal, whose long, blond hair waved out behind her as she spun in a vortex of swirling water.

  Her dress, which glimmered in a cascade of cerulean and violet, clung tightly to her waist, but her skirt twirled with the current, flowing around her in elegant waves with each roll of her hips.

  She extended her right arm, and the vortex calmed. With a twist of her hands, she formed a ball of water that glowed like the moon and sent it rolling down her arm and over her shoulders.

  With a little flick of her other hand, she caught the ball and tossed it into the air. It burst into a shower of glimmering lights that drifted toward the seafloor and dissolved into the current.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  Pippa chuckled. “Juliana’s show is lovely, isn’t it?”

  “She shouldn’t be just a canal performer,” I said as Juliana cast an image of a tiny manta ray so lifelike I wanted to pull it into my hand and pet it. “Mer would pay to see this show in the royal theatre.”