by Kelly Said
Pearl of Pau’maa
Kelly Said
J. Taylor Publishing
The Pearl of Pau’maa
The cold current exhausted Harmon like no battle ever had. That frigid band of ocean coursing through the Ladali Trench blued the peach of his skin and shriveled the long dorsal fin stretching down his tail. He could handle the intense pressure—accustomed to swimming at all depths—but the Trench waters squeezed precious heat from his blood.
The cold reminded him that he wasn’t a regular to the chilly offshoots of the ocean—a soldier, not a scoundrel. He had honored his people, serving his time in the 7th infantry, in the bright, warm surface waters of the Pau’maa Rim. Not down in the murky nadirs with the thugs and crooks of the sea.
Like his brother Creeb.
Harmon clawed through the water, savoring the heat of anger pumping through his body.
Once I have the curve of my mother’s heirloom pearl in my palm, he thought, my brother’s wrongs will be brought to order.
He pinged the dark waters, outlining the trench walls. He was getting closer.
• • •
Miki hugged herself, trying to press down the fear bumps prickling her bare arms. Her toes gripped warm sand, clinging to the beach, worried it would be the last time she’d ever be free to stand there.
If Taigo or any of his friends notice me, she thought, he’ll make sure I never see the shore again.
She gazed at the ocean, marveling at how it spread beyond the horizon’s curve. The salty mist on her face awakened a longing in her heart, a yearning to glide through the water as if she were born to do so. Her mere presence on the beach violated island edict. That gave her the urge to recoil from those gentle waves sipping the shore, reaching for her, ready to draw her in and swallow her whole.
She’d never been a rule breaker.
But I have survived countless free-dives, Miki reminded herself, braved the dangers of an open ocean when others floundered in fear. My lungs have always handled the pressure with ease. I’m one of the better pearl divers and trap setters in the village.
You’re one of the only divers left in the village, her pragmatic thoughts warned, and that’s why you should run back to Taigo and accept his proposal. It’s only a matter of time before you end up like the others.
Miki shivered in the sun.
Eerily calm waters devoured their trade ships. Oysters vanished from the sea floor. Veteran pearl-divers, Miki’s friends and relatives, were washing up onshore, drowned, bodies bloated, mysterious hand-like bruises staining their legs. No survivors meant no explanations, which led to questions and fears rising amongst the villagers.
The gods must have been displeased, letting the ocean revolt against her people’s way of life.
Even though it crushed her spirit, Miki understood why the elders issued their edict forbidding anyone from entering the water for food or profit until they settled on a way to appease the gods for the deaths and disappearances, and for the safety of everyone on the island.
Too many sunsets had passed. Trading had stopped. There were no ships on the horizon either, no sails billowing in from the mainland. The yards of scraggy fishing nets strung along the pier remained empty, the islanders slowly running out of food.
Except for Taigo Inito and his family.
Miki shivered again.
“If I die,” she whispered, exhaling as the wind nudged her towards the sea, “it won’t be from starvation.”
After securing her long black hair with a piece of twine, she leaned down to fasten the leather sheath to her thigh, pulling the blade free to test its sharpness against her thumb tip. Satisfied with its lethalness, she snapped it back into place.
Water crept closer, caressing Miki’s feet, pulling at the sand between her toes, beckoning her to follow—to return to the deep. She smiled, defying village law, and walked into the ocean, breathing greedily, preparing her lungs to dive.
• • •
Harmon slowed at the prickle of electricity exciting the murky waters. A light jolt indicated he’d reached the narrows of the Ladali Trench, a hostile reminder of the enforcement tools the bottom dwelling mermen brandished, patrolling their master’s territory with weapons hot.
Harmon released one ping to scan the dark cavern. When the waters shifted to accommodate someone’s girth, he braced himself for confrontation.
“How can I help you?” The glow fish floating near the walls swam closer, illuminating the loan shark’s broad face.
“I’ve come to pay my brother’s debt and retrieve his collateral.” Harmon steeled his jaw against the cold. He stared directly into the usurer’s eyes, whose black orbs gave away nothing for free.
“We have many brothers who call on my services.” He slowly circled Harmon. “But none of them are soldiers.”
Harmon flexed his forearm, knowing the brazen, bottom dwelling Mer studied his military mark.
“Creeb is not a soldier,” Harmon spat.
“Ahh.” The lender chuckled, air bubbles frothing from his nose. “Creeb, yes. He knows me as Prosb’o. He never mentioned his brother. I now see why. Me and mine barely tolerate your kind at these depths. However, I always welcome the opportunity to make a loan.”
“Prosb’o, yes. He gave me your name.” After I squeezed it from his throat, Harmon thought. “What is your meaning of ‘my kind’?”
“His Majesty’s loyalists.” Prosb’o smirked. “Soldiers, loyal to a fault.”
“Rest assured,” Harmon said, straining to keep his temper in check, “I’m not here to make your acquaintance. I’m here to collect what’s mine.” He unfurled his fingers, his webbed hand splayed to contain the scatter of gems in his palm. They resembled black pebbles the size of his thumb in the dark waters, but the memory of their facets dazzling in the sunlit shallows glimmered in his mind.
Prosb’o’s grey fingers poked and prodded at the stones in Harmon’s palm.
“Spoils of war?” Prosb’o smirked. “Tell me. How is His Majesty’s vendetta on humanity faring?”
You ungrateful … Harmon thought and bristled, his dorsal fin flaring despite the chill. “Have you noticed any poisons collecting in the current? Is your belly full each night? It’s a daily struggle, but we are keeping the humans from destroying our way of life.” Harmon made a show of glancing around for the decorations Mer’s of money were required to display. “I see no tax shells. Have you no honor or pride in showing your support to His Majesty?”
“My belly is full every night regardless of how many ships you rein in or the number of feeble humans you take to their deaths.” Prosb’o sneered, drifting intimidatingly higher than the muscled soldier in front of him. “His Majesty may rule the bright heights, but he has neglected his people in the depths, those of us who toil in the trenches, aiming the methane ports used to drown the human cargo ships and forging the steel you and yours so expertly wield. You see no tax shells because I am above being taxed. The deep is my domain. I provide for those in need. I am the ear who listens to their problems.” His smile curved viciously, and his voice turned colder than the water. “My word is law, soldier. My word is obeyed. And I do not like you or your accusations.”
Harmon pinged his peripheral and outlined the presence of Prosb’o’s bodyguards slithering in. I’m outnumbered, he thought.
“I have no quarrel with you and yours,” Harmon said even though his erect dorsal fin and flexed chest contradicted his words. “I’m only here to settle a debt and retrieve property my brother had no right to offer.” But if a fight is what you want, he thought, I’ll show you what makes me a soldier in His Majesty’s armed forces.
Prosb’o lingered, testing the waters before finally settling back down to Harmon’s eye level. “I have no quarrel with you either.” He signaled his guards at ease while his dark eyes stayed fixed on Harmon’s. Covetously, he palmed the offered jewels. “This is enough to settle Creeb’s debt.”
His retriever, a stingray, snuggled under th
e sand in search, Harmon figured, for the kelp packet containing Creeb’s collateral.
Harmon impatiently flicked his tail, clenching and unclenching his fingers in an attempt to keep heat pumping through his body.
“Here we are.” Prosb’o smiled, revealing a flash of sharp white teeth as he took the offering from his flat underling. He unfolded the length of kelp, and the glow fish huddled closer, highlighting the contents.
Harmon gasped.
Prosb’o held up a medallion, his black fingernail flicking the gold metal. He turned his attention to Harmon’s face. “An Honor and Bravery medal. Yours, I presume?”
Harmon ground his teeth. Creeb would have more to explain, Harmon thought, enjoying the burst of angry heat igniting in his gut.
“Ohhh, oh my,” Prosb’o breathed. “I, I don’t remember it being this bright when Creeb delivered it.” He held the pearl reverently, fingers closing around it.
The Pearl of Pau’maa, a palm sized gem spun by the oldest oyster in the sea. Handed down through Harmon’s family for generations, the pearl was legendary amongst his grandparents, and theirs before them, for its magical ability to unite a Mer with his perfect match—his mate for life.
His father had died, and his mother still remained, so Harmon didn’t believe in its mythical powers. To him it was an ancient pearl, no more, no less, its worth uncharted because of the sentimental value his mother placed on it.
He momentarily recalled being a young Mer though, touched by the pools of love in his mother’s eyes when she told him the incredulous story of how it led her to his father. Of how she knew the pearl found her life mate in a sea so vast.
Harmon frowned. The agony in her voice when she told him of Creeb’s misdeed and her shuddering cries had churned a storm deep inside him. He swore a soldier’s oath to her. She’d have the pearl before the sun passed over. Harmon never broke his word.
“That is my mother’s heirloom,” he said, identifying it to claim ownership. “It has always shone white in my presence.” That’s its love light, she had cooed, the glow means you’re next, your match is waiting for you. Harmon glared at the grey fingers fondling the pure white gem. “Creeb had no right to use it as he did.”
“Where Creeb came about his collateral is not my concern.” Prosb’o’s arrogant smile spread wider. “The jewels you offer are enough to claim the item he used for surety—the Honor and Bravery medal. But those stones are not enough to repossess the pearl, which Creeb offered as deposit when he opened his gambler’s line of credit.”
“You can keep the medal.” The screams and shouts from his fellow soldiers echoed through Harmon’s mind, their limbs and fins tangled in the human’s nets. He had raged at seeing their tails bent in struggle against the ropes dragging them up from the sea and onto the wide decks of smuggler’s ships. Harmon, hanging on the outside of one dripping net, managed to set his brothers free and eliminate the human threat. The medal, symbolic of his honor and bravery, meant nothing compared to setting things right in his family. He wasn’t about to leave the loan shark’s cavern without the Pearl of Pau’maa.
“The value of the medal is but a grain of sand in comparison to the worth of this.” Prosb’o caressed the pearl’s girth. “Our business has concluded, soldier. I suggest you let the current carry you out.”
Harmon lurched forward. A powerful sting from Prosb’o’s guards hit his bicep and wrist. He wiggled free from their electrified grasp and lunged for the loan shark again, scratching the grey arms raised in defense.
Prosb’o fumbled the pearl, and the bubbles of excitement he spewed camouflaged it.
Harmon watched in horror as the perfect sphere propelled itself away from his grasp. The cold current, the one Harmon fought so hard against to reach Prosb’o’s domain, swept it away, the dark waters concealing its brightness from sight.
Adrenaline spiking his blood, Harmon released a frantic ping and jackknifed his body to give chase. Prosb’o’s guards pursued, slithering in the wake of Harmon’s thrashing tail fin.
• • •
Miki’s lean body slowly undulated, bubbles streaming down from her nose. Her empty hands pointed up, stretching for the refracted beams of sunlight just beyond her reach. Her graceful swaying switched to frantic kicking and arms flailing as she fought to break free of the water and pull in a desperate breath of air.
She shattered the surface, coughing and spewing ocean water. The constant flex on her empty stomach seized her abdomen muscles. She breathed through the cramp and managed to stretch out on her back, letting the water hold her while she floated.
Her bottom lip quivered. Two of her traps were empty. Her lungs begged her to retreat, to paddle for shore and check the last trap the next day. Diving in the deep blue had never been so difficult, though Miki was more graceful in the water than walking on her own two feet. Hunger made her thin, weak. Angry tears streamed from the outer corners of her eyes, the dam breaking and sobs bursting forth. She ached for something solid to hit, but the ocean simply gave way to slapping palms.
If I swim back for shore, maybe I’ll find a ragged pineapple bush in the jungle, she thought. Maybe the villagers haven’t plucked and hoarded all the premature coconuts from the palms. While I’m dreaming, she continued, why not find myself scrabbling through the jungle giving chase to a wild chicken? I could pluck it, roast it on an open pit and prepare a side of truffles and onion as an accompaniment.
She laughed bitterly. Nothing wild roamed the island anymore.
The gods had blessed the Inito’s with good fortune, though. Their sprawling acreage remained ripe with crops and livestock. To defend their blessings, the family hired the poorest villagers, paying them in food to shoot any of their friends and neighbors caught stealing, even to feed their own families. The Inito pigs and sheep were worth more than the people who tended them. To appear charitable in the eyes of the elders, the Inito family gave away their kitchen scraps—to those willing to wait by the grand gate with a humble hand out.
I’m not that desperate, Miki thought. They would take too great a pleasure at the sight of me begging on their step. Taigo Inito would gleam at the opportunity to turn me away. Especially since he thinks I dishonored him by turning down his proposal for marriage. I couldn’t see myself living with those hard eyes and harder heart for the rest of my life.
Her stomach twisted, snapping her to awareness, pleading with her to keep hope alive.
She sniffled.
One more dive, she thought. Just one more dive. The sea is plentiful, there has to be more for me down there. I feel it. I know it.
“Just one more dive.” She inhaled, exhaling slowly.
• • •
The warm temperature flux invigorated Harmon, but the change in pressure made him realize he was in uncharted waters. His sights and sonar remained locked on the pearl and its erratic pattern. Every time his fingertips threatened to make contact, the pearl would glow brighter and zip forward.
Curses bubbled from his mouth. He wasn’t a soldier who relished in giving chase, not without a plan, but there was no logic to the pearl’s movements—too many unpredictable variables to a blind pursuit.
The push and pull of the ocean meant dry land was close. Too close for any Mer’s comfort.
Prosb’o’s guards followed closely. They twirled and struck out, nipping and zapping Harmon with high voltage. Harmon flexed and flapped his fin, slapping one of Prosb’o’s guards into the other, tangling their assault.
He gained distance from them, hoping the brighter waters would hamper their chase. The pearl moved faster until it rocketed ahead, leaving Harmon behind in its jetstream. The tiny cloud on the sea floor showed him where the pearl touched down, directly beside some sort of small, man-made trap.
Harmon’s gaze climbed up the bright shafts of light beaming through the water, and his heart fisted in his chest. A four limbed shadow floated on the surface. A human, he thought. He was much closer to land than he expected.
W
ithout warning, the ocean around him throbbed in rhythm with his racing heart. The surrounding waters blurred, his vision tunneled until his focus pinpointed the pearl so tiny in the distance. Harmon swore he heard the most beautiful song in the water, another heart, pulsing in tandem with his own. For one lonely beat, he believed in the legend of the Pearl of Pau’maa.
A sploosh on the surface shattered the moment.
The human, a female, began her descent, legs tight together, arms forward, long black hair streaming behind. Her body flexed and folded like a Mer as she drilled down to the bottom of the ocean.
Harmon’s dorsal fin fluttered in response to the way she moved. An intense heat crept up his spine and burned across his face. When he realized she was aiming straight for his mother’s heirloom, he snapped to and smoothed his stimulated scales.
Despite the surprise of his initial arousal, he wouldn’t let her, a human, claim the pearl.
• • •
Miki’s fingertips touched down on the ocean floor, the soft silt marking her moment of impact. She curled her knees in to weigh and balance herself while her nimble fingers located the trap. When she pulled it from the sand, Miki released a little shout, spewing precious air bubbles.
A large lobster had taken the bait, and Miki smiled in earnest for the first time in many moons. Her stomach cheered, rumbling victoriously while her mind raced with places to hide and eat her catch.
She had learned how to take care of herself, but Miki hated how hunger had changed her people, how the Inito’s power over trading and supply had corrupted manners or custom of any kind. If anyone spotted her fire they’d happily beat her down to take for themselves.
She hugged the trap to her chest before securing the tether to her ankle. Stalling the urge to breathe, she nestled her feet down on the seafloor, preparing to push up for the surface. Her foot flinched when she stepped on something hard, smooth and large. Her toes nudged it free, and when Miki looked down, her lips parted.
The biggest pearl she had ever seen.
If it could even be called a pearl, she thought.