by Brooke Moss
He cupped my face, holding me still and forcing me to look him in the eye. The Council does what it does to keep the existence of Mer a secret. I’m the one who broke the rules by coming into town. I’m the one who snuck into schools and mingled with humans. I’m the one who…
He paused, his eyes liquefying. I’m the one who fell in love. I knew it was against the rules. I knew there would be consequences. I must be responsible for my actions.
I leaned forward and swept my lips across his. Smiling to myself when his breath quickened. “Has anybody ever told you you’ve got a goody-goody complex?”
He ticked one side of his full lips upward. I don’t know what that means.
“Never mind.” I plucked a pine needle out of his hair. “But you don’t have to do this.”
Yes, I do. He dropped his voice an octave. Maybe two. I told you this already. I’m not going to hurt you.
“Then let’s run away.” I took his hands in mine and squeezed. “Let’s go. We’ll take a bus and ride with the windows down so you won’t get too hot. We can stop so you can be near water every night and then leave again in the mornings. We’ll go to Seattle. They have all sorts of lakes over there, and—”
Luna, you’re a month away from graduating.
“I don’t care! I can graduate anywhere. I’m eighteen, an adult. I can enroll wherever we stop—”
They’ve agreed to hear me out.
I halted my words. “What?”
He took a deep breath, then released it slowly. The Council agreed to hear me plea my case.
“When?” My voice came out shrill.
I’ll go before the Council tomorrow. Midday.
“What do you think they’re gonna say?” I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. I needed to feel his arms around me again. It suddenly felt icy cold outside, in spite of the sun shining down.
I…I honestly don’t know. Maybe if more humans knew about our kind and worked harder at protecting the lake, we could live peacefully. Not every human would want to exploit the lake or the Mer. Maybe if we understood humans more, we wouldn’t have Mer like Isolde who hurt humans for fun. It’s possible humans could help us to find a solution for…
His voice trailed off, and I looked up into his eyes. “What? Solution for what?”
He shuddered. Remember when you first learned about Isolde, and you told me about those missing fishermen?
Gulping, I nodded. “This winter three ice fishermen went missing, and then another disappeared in March. I assumed it was her.”
He shook his head. I never meant to lie to you. I just didn’t want you to be scared.
I tilted my head at him. “What was it?”
Mere Monstrom.
There was that term again. I’d Googled it after hearing Saxon and Isolde’s conversation in the woods, but my mother had come into the kitchen while I was using the laptop, slammed it shut, and announced that us kids were getting too dependent on technology. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew she was mad at my dad for working late that night, but arguing with her was like arguing with a tree. Except a tree was more reasonable.
“You’re going to have to dumb that down for me, Sax. I’m not real good with word problems.”
A flicker of amusement crossed his face before his cheeks paled. The reason the Council works so hard to keep the Mer adhering to the rules isn’t just because of humans. It’s because there is something bigger and infinitely more dangerous than humans and Mer combined.
“Mere Monstrom.” I let the words sit on my tongue for a few beats. “It sounds like monster.”
Saxon nodded. Just once. There is a creature in Pend Oreille that kills both our kind at will. The Mere Monstrom is the size of three of your submarines and has been known to throw boats hundreds of feet into the woods.”
My throat threatened to close, and the woods around us started to blur. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. All of the stories my dad had told to us while holding a flashlight under his chin on those dark summer nights. My mom called them folklore, but my dad claimed that his grandfather had seen the remains of a yacht so far in the woods, he’d claimed it was as if God himself had dropped it there.
“The scary stories.” I licked my lips. My mouth was suddenly so dry. “The legends. They’re…true?”
Yes. It’s a grotesque, fish-beast type creature. I’ve only ever seen it from afar, but it was horrific. Teeth covered in algae, and as sharp as blades. Yellow eyes that glow for a mile under the water, and a stench that resembles the decay of flesh mixed with its own filth. Its fins are like massive webbed arms that it uses to drag itself around, and the back and tail are jagged and spiked with this row of barbed coral. It swims faster than anything I’ve ever seen, like a pitch-black streak the size of a ten-story building, crashing through rock walls like they’re made of paper.
“Where does it live? Is it near your clan?” I trembled, picturing this streak of ominous darkness gliding along the bottom of Pend Oreille. So many swimmers braved the cold water in the summertime, and they had no idea that there was a dinosaur-sized creature beneath their toes.
The Mare Monstrom lives below Cape Horn, on the southern end of Pend Oreille. There are underwater caves that extend back underground for miles, connecting Pend Orielle to other lakes. Once a month, my clan travels to the cape to make an offering. When we do so, it remains dormant, and humans and Mer are safe—somewhat.
“An offering?” A dozen different scenarios flooded my mind. An animal? A youngling? A virgin, for Pete’s sake?
Saxon raked a hand through his tousled brown hair. We take food. Animals. Fish. Plants. It lusts for blood—human or Mer, it doesn’t matter. My clan works very hard at feeding both ourselves and the Mere Monstrom. There are times when we go without because we have to take half of our provisions to the creature. We have to keep it fed and appeased, otherwise we’re picked off like snacks.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “How is it that humans haven’t spotted this creature yet?”
They have. Your grandfather likely saw some of the Mare Monstrom’s handiwork, and the ice fishermen were also victims. We lost two members of our clan this winter, when they hunted too close to Cape Horn. And not every missing human in Pend Oreille can be attributed to the Mer. The problem with this happening, besides the obvious loss of human and Mer life, is that missing people precipitates an interest in the lake.
“Which means there are divers in the lake and people scouring the waterline.” I played with the hem of his shirt. “And the Mer have to hide their existence.”
Saxon rested his chin on the top of my head. Which makes it harder to find food, which make it difficult to make our offering to the Mere Monstrom. Which leads to more incidents, and…you get the picture.
“If humans knew this was under the surface of the Pend Oreille,” I said, closing my eyes, “they’d go in and kill it. You know that. It would be killed in a week.”
He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, leaving trails of heat behind as they moved. I know. But then they would know Mer exist. We would be captured, researched, and even killed ourselves. Sometimes I think allowing some humans to know about the existence of Mer would be better than living in fear for the rest of our lives.
I cringed. Talk about stuck. Saxon’s options were face death or face death.
“I don’t know that living under the rule of the Council is much better.” I sighed. “They force you to do things you don’t want to do, and they threaten to kill you if you refuse.”
We don’t have a choice. Everything the Council does is for our best interest. They tell us all the time that sacrifices have to be made, for the good of the Clan as a whole.
“Do you really believe that?” I searched his eyes for the flicker of doubt. “I mean, don’t you think there could be another way?”
He smiled weakly. I don’t know. I was raised to believe these things, and so were my parents and grandparents. It’s terrifying even to think about
not following the rules.
“But you didn’t follow the rules when you met me.” I rested one hand on the back of his damp neck. “What’s to say other things couldn’t change too?”
I hope you’re right. He rested his forehead against mine. I hope you’re right.
“How will I know how tomorrow goes?” I sat up straight. “I’ll be at Ian’s memorial service tomorrow. How will I know if you’re OK?”
He brought his hands up to cover both of my cheeks. He stroked my bottom lip. I will be.
“Yeah, but—”
I will be. I want you to get through Ian’s funeral. Be there for Evey and Hayden, and put me as far out of your mind as possible.
My eyes welled up again. “That’s not gonna happen.”
He offered me a smile. You have to try. For me.
Choking, I covered my face. “It sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”
I am. But just for today. He moved my hands and pressed a long kiss against the corner of my mouth. My heart sped up. On Saturday, I want you to get ready for your prom, and—
“Are you kidding me?” I sniffled. “The last thing I care about right now is a stupid dance.”
Eyes twinkling, Saxon caught a stray strand of my hair, and twisted it around his finger. Do you think I’d give up the chance to take the most beautiful girl to my first prom? I’ve even got a suit to wear.
“A suit?” I laughed, a tear escaping and heading down my cheek. “Where did you get a suit?”
Saxon didn’t have a job. Living with the Mer didn’t exactly require money, and he usually spent his time in town sneaking in and out of places. Where had he gotten the money for a freaking suit?
He swept his knuckle across my cheekbone, catching the tear. Downtown. The clothing bank.
Biting my lip, I felt my heart expanding. Much more of this incredibly nice attitude, and it was going to pop. “I love you. Do you know that?”
Saxon anchored me to his chest and burrowed his face in my hair. I know. And I love you too.
Were these my last moments with Saxon? Would we see each other again after today? Would he ever break the surface of the Pend Oreille again after facing the Council the next day?
I tangled my fingers in his hair and squeezed my eyes shut. For just one tiny blip in time, I didn’t care.
Chapter Twenty-Two
There were three places I hated being with every ounce of my very soul.
The first was the dentist’s chair. The buzzing sounds, the tooth dust in the air, gagging on the fluoride rinse….never was a fan.
Second, I hated being in a hospital bed. After my accident, I was in one for weeks on end. There was nothing worse than looking out the window and realizing that the seasons had changed and you hadn’t even realized it.
And third?
Third would have to be at a funeral for a teenage kid.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen something so agonizing in my life. The entire gym was packed. People were leaning against all of the walls and standing in groups outside the doors. As expected, Coach Timmons delivered the eulogy, and my heart tugged when the football team members laid Ian’s jersey across the head of the empty casket. In the front row, Hayden sat—stone faced and stoic—between his parents, whose shoulders shook in unison as they wept. Mrs. McClendon’s cries could be heard over the Lutheran church choir singing hymns between speakers.
It was surreal to sit through a funeral for someone who wasn’t dead. There were times when my eyes filled, but not necessarily for Ian. But rather, for his parents, who would never see their son again. As angry with my parents as I was, I didn’t know what I would do if I were cut off from them permanently. Sure…I could go a month. Maybe six. Crap, with the way things were between my parents right now, maybe a year. But forever?
I shuddered. It was too difficult to imagine.
I pictured my parents at the Deep Lake Coffee Company, not speaking to each other as they cleaned the Grindmaster in tandem. They hadn’t come to the funeral because the McClendons asked them to cater the reception afterward, and they still had about a bazillion scones and muffins to make.
Hayden snuck a glance back to the bottom corner of the bleachers where Evey and I sat as the pastor stood to give his sermon. My sister dabbed at her eyes behind her glasses, and I handed her a tissue. “You OK?”
“Yeah…it’s just…” She nodded as she watched the back of Hayden’s head. “He looks so sad. I wish I could have…” She cast cautious glance around. Nobody paid us any attention; they were all too busy crying. “I wish he could have seen Ian before they dragged him back.”
Nodding, I covered my sister’s hand with my own. “I know. Me, too.”
My stomach gurgled nervously, and I used my free arm to wrap it around my middle. Saxon was meeting with the Council right now, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite focus on Ian’s service. It didn’t matter how beautiful the hundreds of flower arrangements were or how the choir’s singing filled the gym and poured out through the windows. My mind was under the dark water of Pend Oreille with Saxon.
Evey wiped her nose with the crumpled tissue. “You know what’s weird?”
I sniffed. “There’s a lot that’s weird right now.”
“Right.” Her green eyes scanned the crowd slowly. “There are literally a hundred people here.”
“Uh-huh. What’s weird about that?”
“Every person in here is crying. Or has been crying.” She shuddered next to me. “Even Mr. Habberman. It’s eerie.”
The meanest history teacher in the entire school stood by one of the exits, wiping his eyes on a folded handkerchief. He’d given me detention once for not bringing a pencil with a usable eraser to class. At the time, I’d been pretty sure he had no soul. Now I knew I was wrong.
“Agreed.” I watched the crowd of people outside the door. Most had sunglasses on, as the spring sunshine had decided to grace us with its presence, and light flooded the foyer of Sandpoint High. Every second or so, people lifted tissues or hankies to their faces or noses, wiping and sniffling while the music vibrated in the floor beneath us all. “There are people here from all over the lake.”
“Well, his parents are on the board at the yacht club.” Evey spoke in a hushed voice. “Popular parents, popular son.”
I sighed quietly. I knew about Ian’s popularity more than I really wanted to. The McClendons’ didn’t raise sons who weren’t part of the inner social circle. Or, they hadn’t until recently anyway. Who knows what they would do now that Hayden—the quieter and more serious of the two sons—was an only child.
“I wonder what—”
My words halted, and the rest of the air in my lungs eked out with a squeak. Just beyond a group of mourners was a face looking directly at me. Greenish skin…long blonde creped hair…and a ferocious sneer that still chilled me right down into the bone marrow.
“Evey, get your purse.” My words came out louder than I intended, and the woman in front of us turned around and glared at me. “We’re leaving.”
“What?” She whipped her head in the direction of the door. Her ponytail slapped me across the face.
When I looked back at the doorway, Isolde’s face was glowering at me from behind the men—a tractor beam of pure hatred from her eyes to mine as I sat trembling in my chair. The sound of the choir muted, and all I could hear was my lungs expanding and contracting.
Somewhere next to me—though it sounded a block away—Evey made a choking sound. “Is that…is that…?”
“We’re leaving.” My wheels were unlocked before she could even say the name. I bumped into someone’s toe as I wheeled around the end of the bleachers, muttering my excuses to the crowd as they reluctantly parted for me, grumbling their disapproval.
Evey followed. In a flash of green and white, Isolde disappeared into the mass of bodies. “She’s getting away!” My sister hissed in my ear, as we shoved our way through.
“Watch it,” a woman snapped as we squeezed
past.
I pointed through the double glass doors. “There she goes!”
Isolde wore an oversized gray T-shirt she’d obviously stolen off of a clothesline somewhere, as there were stretched out peaks in the fabric on either shoulder. When she sprinted across the damp grass outside the front of the building, the hem lifted, flashing the bottom of her perfectly toned butt cheek. Isolde looked back over her shoulder as she bolted toward the tree line, her crimpy blonde hair whipping her across her taunting smirk. Hatred boiled in my blood, and I rammed into the bottom half of the door. I wasn’t letting her get away again. It took some serious audacity to show up for the funeral of the guy you drowned.
Evey jumped in front of my chair and threw open the door. “She’s getting away!”
“No, she’s not,” I snapped, rolling through. I watched as Isolde’s body disappeared around the corner of the brick school building. “Dammit!”
“We’ll never catch her.” Evey pulled her cell out of her pocket and batted at a strand of blonde hair escaping from her ponytail. “I’ll call Mom.”
Bringing my hand down over the phone, I raised one eyebrow. “Do you really think Mom’s going to accompany us on a mermaid chase?”
She drooped her shoulders. “What are we going to do? She’s gone.”
A deep voice spoke up behind us. “Did you see which way she went?”
When Evey and I turned around, we were met with Hayden standing in the doorway, suit and tie on and a program with Ian’s face on it crumpled in his hand.
“What are you doing?” Evey breathed. Her cheeks went a bright pink. “Your parents are gonna be—”
“Pissed. I know.” Hayden let the door slam shut behind his back.
“I was going to say worried.”
Hayden fished his car keys out of the pocket of his slacks and offered us a half-shrug. “They’ll think the funeral was too much for me to take and I took off to be alone.”
“Doesn’t sound like such a stretch to me.” I pushed my wheels and followed Hayden as he strode toward the parking lot. “Except for the whole alone part.”