The Merman's Mark

by Tara Omar

  Murray bounced hard on the trampoline, vaulting himself into the air. The ball sailed into his arms; he tucked it under his chest as he somersaulted over the wall, crashing into the pool below. The crowd erupted with cheers.

  Touch down! shouted the announcer. Arnold Murray for the Arrows. Score: 12-7 Arrows with a minute on the clock.

  “Whooh, and that’s how it’s done!” shouted Dominic.

  He took a swig of lemonade and put the game back on mute. The tikihune, who were now sporting a variety of tropical aprons and belts full of feather dusters, and had since congregated around the coffee table, went back to their cleaning.

  “You see the problem is the Lady took everything so damned seriously, including herself, and it drove her mad,” said Dominic. “It’s all a game at the end of the day; she had a good run, but she lost, and she couldn’t handle it.” Dominic cleared his throat. “Anyway, you were saying?”

  “No, nothing,” said David.

  Dominic slapped his thighs.

  “Well, I think I’m going to hit the dunes before the party. Want to come?” asked Dominic. He swiped his finger across the same tile as Gill had done; the wall opened to a closet of hanging goggles, skull caps and boards.

  “Sandboarding,” said Dominic.

  “Oh, um, thank you, but I think I’ll stay here for a while,” said David.

  “You sure?” asked Dominic, flipping through the boards.

  “Yes,” said David.

  “Okay, suit yourself. If you change your mind, I’ll be up on the dunes just past Norbert’s place. Gill has extra gear if you need.”

  “Thank you,” said David.

  Dominic opened the door to find Gill on the other side, buried under four paper sacks full of produce. Dominic smiled.

  “Gill, my man. What perfect timing, let me get the door for you,” said Dominic, holding the door with one arm as he exited.

  “Is the game over?” asked Gill.

  “Yeah, Arrows won 12-7,” said Dominic. “Cheers.”

  “May I help you with that?” asked David, catching an orange as it tumbled from the top of the bag. Gill rushed the bags to the counter, dropping them just as their paper bottoms began to rip.

  “Thanks,” said Gill, sighing. “Is Dom off to the dunes?”

  “Yes,” said David.

  Gill shook his head.

  “I don’t know when that guy sleeps,” said Gill, ripping open a sack of potatoes. He pulled a ring the size of a saucer from a drawer and began pushing the potatoes through it one by one, peeling them each with one go. David watched him.

  “Tell me, is Lady Imaan really as insane as he says?” asked David.

  “Dominic is young and enjoys exaggerating, though many would agree the Lady doesn’t always dance with a grounded stance these days. I may not be the best person to offer a personal opinion though, given my choice of neighbours.”

  They both looked out the tinted bay window toward the orange and turquoise shack next door, inside which Norbert could be seen with his goggles, tongs and oven mitts, dropping an empty witchetty chip packet into the mouth of his purple cabbage. Gill smiled.

  “Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have someone like that in such a high position, if she is unstable?” asked David.

  “Imaan’s powers have been greatly reduced as of late; she mostly spends her days with liturgical duties which garner little notice. When I was a boy I remember the judges used to defer to her to settle disputes. These old, powerful men bowing to this young, beautiful woman just barely out from under her mother… it’s not something you easily forget. She was a great Lady in her day.”

  Gill smiled at his potato skins.

  “And the King? What does he think?” asked David.

  “He tolerates her,” said Gill, shrugging. “He has to—the Fraternity would murder him in cold blood if he didn’t.”

  “Fraternity?” asked David.

  “Mhm,” said Gill. “I am inclined to believe that King Saladin is kind to the Lady because she crowned him king, though. Saladin is a very loyal person and not easily swayed by threats.”

  “What do they do… this fraternity?” asked David.

  “I have no idea,” said Gill. “They dress up in masks and pass out pamphlets once in a while, but beyond that I haven’t a clue. Not much is known about them, other than it was started after the war and is committed to bringing down the Leviathan. It is said that they have some very influential members which could make Aeroth all but ungovernable if they choose, though. The Lady is the head of it.”

  “And do they all follow the Lady in thinking Gabe is the Leviathan?”

  “I don’t know, though there are plenty of secular reasons people may dislike Gabe. For a citizen he does wield a lot of control, enough I suspect to make some people uncomfortable, especially those with a lot to lose. He is very committed to public welfare; those who have built up comparable wealth do not always approve of his ‘squandering.’ Fortunately for Gabe his commitment has made him extremely popular with the majority. There will be an open revolt if anyone touches him.”

  “I see,” said David, looking thoughtful. Gill tapped the counter.

  “At any rate, you’ll have a chance to decide for yourself what you think of Gabe. He’ll be here tonight. Very pleasant company, that man. The party wouldn’t be the same without him.”

  A heavy knock sounded through the door.

  “Oh that must be Sven, my juggling bartender,” said Gill, wiping his hands.

  “You have a juggling bartender?” asked David.

  Gill smiled.

  “David, my friend, when Gilgamesh Ullrich throws a party, one does not quickly forget it.” He tapped David’s arm on the way to the door. “It shall be a night to remember.”

  C H A P T E R 2 7

  In a few hours Gill’s room became almost unrecognisable in the colourful lights, crammed with nearly a hundred people dancing to the jaunty rhythm of blaring music. Veins of neon lights pulsed through the mirrored dome above, which reflected the crowd. Even Gill’s water feature had picked up the pace and now sparked with colourful water as the glass goldfish danced around its rim in a conga line. David found himself pressed up against the wall near the hip-swinging fish, his eyes darting around as the couple in front of him busted out their best dance moves. He felt a tug on his shirt.

  “Beachside Boogie, for Tatu,” said the tikihune, smiling broadly. He was sitting on the shoulders of another tikihune, holding a round serving tray with an icy, pink cocktail at its centre. He pushed it in David’s direction. David frowned.

  “Oh, um, thank you very much, uh, Ahu,” said David, reading his blinking name tag, “but I’d rather not.”

  Ahu’s lower lip twitched as his large, wooden eyes filling with tears. He threw his head back and let out a loud, languishing cry. David picked up the hot pink drink, and the tikihune instantly quieted, offering a large smile and a bow before waddling away with the empty tray. Ahu had scarcely left before another pair followed with the same sobbing threats, carrying a Whiny Banana Banger.

  The parade of cocktails continued until David had an armful of fruity drinks. Before they could offer him yet another Frolic-aholic or Wanging Rupert, David dumped the glasses into a potted bromeliad and slipped into the dancing crowd, squeezing past an assortment of sizeable, sparkly bums and into the front yard, where at least twenty coal fires sizzled with grilling meat around a massive bonfire. Foods and salads of every kind were piled high on clothed tables around the perimeter, while the tikihune busily pruned trees made of beer bottles and scooped soda from sugary fountains. A tikihune wearing a red fireman’s hat stood near the stoop next to David, his eyes fixed on the flaming pits as he waited with a hose. David smiled and tipped the tikihune’s hat as he headed toward Moai, who was serving dips while wearing a large, embroidered sombrero.

  “
Tatu should not be bothering da fire-mahn,” said Moai, handing David a plate full of corn chips. “Hungry fire eat wood if we not careful. It eat mehn, too.”

  “Sorry Moai, it won’t happen again,” said David. “And thanks for the—”

  Before David could finish, Moai scooped half the guacamole from a heavy punchbowl and dumped it onto David’s plate.

  “For Tatu,” said Moai, nodding.

  “Right,” said David. “Thank you, Moai.”

  A curly-haired girl with too short a nose nodded toward his plate.

  “Wow, you must really like avocados.”

  “Yes, I guess so,” said David, chuckling. “It always tastes better when someone else makes it.”

  “Clearly,” said the girl, raising an eyebrow. “My name’s Eugenia. This is the first of Gill’s parties for me; I’m afraid I don’t know many people.”

  “That would make two of us, then,” said David. “Would you like some guacamole?”

  “Alright,” said Eugenia, shrugging. She sat down next to him as David held the plate in her direction.

  “I’m David,” he said.

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Eugenia. She scooped up a pile of guacamole with her corn chip. “Are you an Aaronite?”

  David swallowed.

  “Oh, um, actually—”

  The chips bounced on the plate as a guy plopped onto the bench between them. He was holding a worn, hardback book that despite being taped together in several places, was losing several of its pages. Eugenia grimaced.

  “Is that any way to greet your beloved brother?” asked the guy. “I’m George by the way.” He took a chip from David, barely looking at him.

  “Biy’avi, Sis, can you believe we’re here? We’re actually at the home of Gilgamesh Ullrich,” said George. He pointed. “I bet there’s where they took down the mer King. The magazines said it’s near the front of his house.”

  “George is obsessed with military history. It’s all he talks about,” said Eugenia.

  “I’m hoping Mr Ullrich will sign my copy of A Herbal Epic. It’d be awesome to meet Mr Bransby as well, but I hear he doesn’t take visitors.”

  “May I see?” asked David.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” said George, handing it over. “Just don’t bend the pages, or breathe on it.”

  “I’ll do my best,” said David.

  A younger, more muscular Norbert glared at him from the torn cover; he was surfing toward the reader with a shovel in his hand. David flipped to the inside fold and read.

  Norbert Bransby would have been quite content tending his tomato plants, but when on that fateful day the Nephilim attacked in a battle that threatened the very existence of humanity, his life took a series of unexpected turns that would change our future forever. Told in striking detail by Gilgamesh Ullrich, the Renaultan soldier who witnessed first-hand the fall of the infamous mer King, A Herbal Epic takes readers on an unforgettable journey from the simple, backcountry life of the Humphrites to the horrific flood of battle, delivering a poignant yet harrowing account of how a quiet Humphrite herbalist went on to become the greatest war hero of all time.

  “You know they say the Nephilim might wage another war in our lifetime,” said George, taking back the book. “Mark my words, Sis, you’ll have a war hero for a brother one day. You can be sure of—Biy’avi, it’s him! Over there. He’s coming toward us!”

  George went as stiff as a tin soldier as Gill approached.

  “Hello, are you enjoying the party?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s lovely,” said Eugenia. George made a sound somewhere between a screech and a grunt. He kicked Eugenia in the leg.

  “My brother was wondering if you wouldn’t mind signing his book,” said Eugenia. “He is one of your greatest fans.”

  “I wouldn’t mind in the least,” said Gill, smiling.

  “Oh, thank you, Sir,” said George. “Both for signing my book and for what you’ve done for our land. I’ve read your book at least a hundred times. It is an honour to meet you.”

  “Have you read it so much?” asked Gill.

  “Yes,” said George. “I only hope that one day I may live up to your shining example and defend Aeroth as you have done.”

  Gill frowned.

  “Can I make a suggestion?” asked Gill, returning the book.

  “Oh, of course, Sir,” said George. “Anything.”

  “Leave old men’s tales of war for a while. Take up ballet,” said Gill, taking David’s arm. “Will you excuse us? I’m going to have to steal David for a while, if that’s alright. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

  Gill led David to a quiet, moonlit area behind the house, which was surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges. Guests in formal evening wear danced to the sultry sounds of the samba near a saltwater pool, while Dominic and some guests sat around a black, felt table, dealing gilded playing cards. Gill leaned toward David’s ear.

  “As you can see, Dominic has taken to setting up a little card game over there; would you just watch him for me?” asked Gill. “You’re the only one I can send who won’t look like a hired babysitter.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said David.

  “Let me know if he’s lost more than a hundred thousand.”

  David nodded.

  “Ah, gentlemen, ladies, how is the game going?” asked Gill.

  “Good, good. Looks like the cards are in my favour tonight,” said Dominic, tossing a pearl and gold chip toward the centre of the table.

  Gill frowned.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave David with you, Dom, since you’re the only person he knows here. Just to help him feel welcome.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Dominic.

  “David, may I introduce Mr Aidric Porter and Mr and Mrs Robert and Margaret Vanderhill,” said Gill. “Company, this is Mr David Michelson.”

  “Do you play Blackjack, David?” asked Margaret.

  “Oh, um, no, but I’d enjoy watching if you don’t mind,” said David, taking a seat.

  She smiled. Dominic dealt himself more cards.

  “And… twenty. Dealer takes the hand.”

  “Damn,” said Aidric. Dominic swiped several chips from off the table, adding them to his pile.

  “What did you say your surname was again, David?” asked Rob.

  “Michelson,” said David.

  “Hmm. I’ve never heard of a Michelson,” said Rob, tapping the table. “What business are you in?”

  “I, uh, inherited,” said David. “I don’t really know the full extent of the dealings.”

  “David is from the mountains,” said Dominic, staring at his cards. He smiled. “Blackjack.”

  Aidric groaned.

  “Damn. I thought I had you this time,” said Aidric.

  A man pulled himself from the pool and walked near them, watching as Dominic dealt more cards to Margaret and a final card to himself. He smiled.

  “If you keep dealing like that, I may have to hire you,” said the man.

  “With the way I’m playing now, Gabe, even you won’t be able to afford me,” said Dominic.

  A huge spray of water erupted from the pool behind them as a tipsy man cannon-balled into the pool. Gabe arched his back as the water soaked him, taking the brunt of the splash. The rest of the droplets fell on David, hitting him with a heat that felt like specks of fire.

  Gabe…water, thought David. He glanced at Gabe’s wrists, neck and feet, but there was no sign of a mer.

  “Hey watch it. You’ll ruin the cards,” said Dominic. “Glide in next time.”

  The guy nodded before disappearing under the water.

  Dominic shook his head. A tikihune ran to David’s side carrying a fluffy towel.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” said Gabe, extending his hand.

  “No, we have
n’t,” said David.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just change quickly.”

  “Well, that’s Gabe,” said Dominic, dealing more cards. “Do you feel any different now that you’ve basked in the light of his aura?”

  “I’ve hardly had time to tell,” said David.

  “Just wait,” said Dominic. “One night with him, and you’ll be a changed man.” He added a card to his ace. “Blackjack again. I am on fire tonight!”

  “Oh, this is ridiculous,” said Aidric. “You’re a slipshod shuffler.”

  “The dealer can’t help poor strategy,” said Dominic.

  “Poor strategy, my foot. You’re fixing the cards.”

  David faded out of the argument, his whole body tensing as he looked around. He could smell it again, the violets. Then he saw it. Two eyes were peering at him from behind the bush. David got up from the table.

  “Is everything okay?” asked Margaret.

  David looked at the bush, but what he thought were eyes were only the dark knobs of a trimmed branch.

  “Yes, thank you,” said David, taking his seat.

  “I trust you’ll behave yourself now, Aidric, so as not to scare off the guests,” said Dominic.

  “Only if you start dealing properly,” said Aidric.

  Gabe reappeared wearing a crisp shirt and blazer. He pulled up a chair.

  “Did I miss anything interesting?” he asked.

  “Only another excellent hand by me,” said Dominic, “my fourth of the night.”

  “Nice,” said Gabe. He grimaced.

  “What’s wrong? You’re starting to look like death warmed up,” asked Dominic, dealing more cards.

  “No, it’s just my eyes,” said Gabe. “I think I might have a migraine coming on.”

  “I have some tablets if you need,” said Margaret. She reached for her purse.

  “Thank you, love, but I already have,” said Gabe, reaching into his blazer. He turned to a nearby tikihune. “Water, if you please.”

  Gabe pulled a yellow capsule from a small jar.

  “Oh, what do you take?” asked Margaret. “My doctor prescribed me Papeeze for my headaches. They work rather well, though I’m dead tired afterward.”