The Merman's Mark

by Tara Omar

  “Hey,” said David.

  Natalie barely looked up from her reading.

  “Are you okay?” asked David.

  “Stew, that took you four minutes and twenty-three seconds,” said Natalie, checking her watch. Albert pulled himself from the test tube, looking cross that he had been given away. Natalie glanced at David and turned the page to her magazine.

  “Are you still upset about the ball security?” asked David, frowning. “If you are, I’m pretty sure I won’t need Rahul’s help to break a bone or two. The dance lessons are killing me.”

  Natalie set down her magazine and hoisted herself onto her jelly.

  “Natalie?” asked David. She patted Albert on the head as she floated toward her room with her magazine rolled in her hand.

  “Natalie, can you please just tell me what’s wrong?” asked David.

  “I’m tired, David. I have a lot of work to do and still no leads about the shield.”

  “Yeah, but the shield isn’t so pressing now. We’ve stopped Rahul’s famine; I’m sure it’s going to take some time to plan the next move. There’s no need to stress about it,” said David.

  Natalie frowned.

  “Right, um, your girlfriend had some packages delivered for the ball. I put them in your room. Maybe you should go check it out,” said Natalie.

  “Natalie, Kajal is not my girlfriend.”

  “I wasn’t speaking of Kajal,” said Natalie, closing the door to her room. David saw from the corner of his eye the glint of brightly-coloured gift boxes piled at the centre of the spare bedroom. They were many, enough to cover most of the floor; each one was wrapped in thick ribbon with a fancy bow at the centre. David picked up a small, red box and opened the lid. Inside was a pristinely pressed pair of socks with a gift tag tucked between them. On the tag was an image of a merish foot being inserted into the sock, with arrows pointing the direction. He opened a bigger box; it contained a pair of pants and a similar gift tag. He noted the signature on the bottom.

  Maude the Mantis Shrimp

  Maude had sent his entire outfit for the ball, including instructions for each item on respective gift tags. In addition to clothes David found underwear, cologne, hair products, soap and lotions, each with overly detailed instructions for use. David smiled. Maude was leaving nothing to chance. Whatever happened Saturday evening—be it the wrath of Uriel or Rahul, or just death by merish dance moves—David was sure at least he’d look good.

  C H A P T E R 6 9

  The Royal Ballroom had to be the singularly most beautiful space in the whole of Larimar. Mirrored walls draped in curtains of etched crystals and pearls gave it the air of another world, like the secret places inside a glittering chandelier. Tonight the ballroom was especially beautiful; underneath its thick, glass floor flowed a pool of bubbling blueberry champagne, which ran up the roots of hundreds of silver mangrove trees topped with lit candles and bouquets of white flowers. Around each mangrove was a table covered in pearl linen, set with the finest banquet silver. Everyone who was anyone was inside the ballroom; they chatted and sipped champagne as they waited for the guest of honour to arrive.

  “There you are,” said Kajal, inserting a jewelled pin into her cousin’s veil in the dressing room. “You look absolutely beautiful, Zahara; I dare say none have ever looked better.”

  Zahara sat at a dressing table in a brocaded dress with a silken veil draped over her hair. She stared at the mirror while Kajal and Regina worked over her, adding last minute jewels and touching up her makeup.

  “Your child will be a little, blond button just like its lovely mother,” said Regina, smiling as she powdered Zahara’s cheek.

  “Or maybe ruby red like its father. And equally kind and innovative, of course,” said Kajal.

  “I just hope it’s not like my uncle from my mothers’ side. He was a sort of vomity green. He had such bad luck in life with that colour,” said Zahara.

  “Nonsense. It’s not possible for you to produce a sour child with all your sunshine,” said Kajal.

  “I wish Freddy was here,” said Zahara.

  “We all do, love,” said Regina, “but Uriel will be as good a sponsor as any child could dream of.”

  “Especially if you don’t ever want him married,” said Kajal.

  Zahara laughed.

  “Where is Sir Farm Boy, anyway?” asked Regina.

  “He’s meeting me at the entrance,” said Kajal, sticking the last pin into Zahara’s veil. “There, you are perfect.”

  Kajal and Regina helped Zahara up, lifting and moving her skirt so she could walk toward the door. Kajal tucked a few extra pins into her dress as they left, and the three meras hurried toward the Royal Ballroom where over a thousand expectant guests were waiting.

  Meanwhile, David waited outside the crystal doors, where two guards stood deathly still, ignoring him. After rocking on his heels and shuffling about the corridor, he finally heard the gentle rustling of skirts coming his way. David turned. Zahara was coming down the hall in her ornate dress; behind her was Kajal, in a stunning dress made entirely of glittering opals. David smiled.

  “Kajal, you look lovely,” said David. “You all look lovely.”

  “Thank you, David,” said Kajal. “Shall we go?”

  She took David’s arm as the orchestra began to play inside the ballroom. The guards opened the door. The lights dimmed and a thousand pairs of eyes stared in their direction, along with at least five television cameras. A spotlight shone on them, while Uriel and Silver waited in the centre. David swallowed.

  “You’ll be fine; just smile and nod,” whispered Kajal.

  They proceeded arm-in-arm toward Uriel and Silver, waving to the crowd as they passed. Zahara followed behind them, escorted by Regina.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” said Kajal through closed lips. They stood a short distance away on either side of Uriel, while Zahara moved next to the King. Regina took her place near Kajal, eyeing Silver as he began to speak.

  “Ladies and gentlemers, we are gathered here this evening to bear witness to the miracle of life. We revere the Silent One who spun the Universe into being, and we honour the mera, in whom and through whom a child is born into the world. She is the protectress of life in its most vulnerable and delicate form, the bringer of hope, the beloved of the Creator. And so, without further ado, behold Zahara, a mera of the Silent One.”

  Silver nodded to Zahara. She took a deep breath and closed her hands near her face, while Uriel took her waist, supporting her from behind. After whispering a quick prayer she raised her arms above her head, pointing her wrists toward the sky. The filament floated up from her wrists in thick ribbons; as it moved upward Silver snapped his fingers, conjuring up what looked like a giant magnifying glass. He floated the glass over the dancing strands. As the filament passed through the glass the strands broke into tiny beads, twisting and sticking together until it formed a swimming, tadpole-like creature with a round, merish head; it grew larger and its features became more defined until it looked like a baby mer, with a face like a one-month-old. Its fins pulsed with different colours in rhythm with its heartbeat; eventually the colours slowed, alternating between yellow and red.

  “There it goes; it’s going to be a yellow button, just like its mother,” said Regina.

  With one final burst the colour settled on orange, the hue of ripe peaches and sunsets. At the same time the ballroom burst with matching colours. The mangrove trees bloomed with delicate peach flowers, the linen napkins stained orange, and matching banners unfurled from the ceiling, written with welcomes. The baby giggled and waved, wobbling around, while the audience cooed. Zahara laughed and cried as Silver read the filament.

  “Constant Frederick Darwin I, son of Zahara and the late Frederick Alexander, grandson of Winifred and Jacques, Rabia and Pieter, in the line of Nephtali, conceived 148 days ago, to be born within the
fortnight, 340 grams, 24 centimetres long, a mer in identity and sex, colour orange.”

  Zahara’s arms started to shake and her body trembled; as Silver finished reading, the filament snapped from her wrists. The baby waved goodbye as the image disappeared. Zahara collapsed back into Uriel’s arms, overwhelmed. The audience applauded.

  “Ladies and gentlemers, that concludes the viewing,” said Silver. “On behalf of the royal family, Zahara and Frederick, I would like to thank you for attending. As per your programme, we will be serving dinner in the next fifteen minutes with dancing to follow. Please find your seats and enjoy the rest of the evening. Good night.”

  The crowd bustled about the dance floor, abuzz with gossip. Some pushed their way toward their tables; others moved to the centre, eager to greet the royal family. Kajal pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Zahara’s eyes.

  “Your baby is absolutely beautiful, Zahara. I can’t wait to meet him,” said Kajal. “You did wonderfully.”

  “That had to be the most perfect creature I have ever seen,” said Zahara, looking dazed. “I mean, did you see him? Those eyes… just like his father.”

  Kajal smiled.

  “Come, let’s get you freshened up,” said Kajal. “David, our table’s over there, if you’d like to sit. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Okay, thanks,” said David.

  He meandered toward their table, trying to look as dignified as possible amid the curious stares of the highbrow guests. Uriel and Regina greeted those mers that remained on the dance floor; among them was Gerard, the King’s adviser from the Lowveld.

  “Good evening, Your Majesty,” said Gerard, offering a bow.

  “Ah Gerard, how are you this evening?” asked Uriel.

  “Well enough, Your Majesty, though I wish I could say the same for my people,” said Gerard.

  “Oh?” asked Uriel.

  “The recent fire at the Central Docking Station has been very unsettling for the Lowveld. The people fear the humans are infiltrating Larimar.”

  “Fools’ talk,” said Uriel. “They entertain and exaggerate.”

  “I hope you are right, Your Majesty, though it only takes one fool to burn down a village,” said Gerard.

  “And you are paid to hide the matches,” said Uriel, patting his arm. “Enjoy the evening, Gerard, and talk no further of nonsense.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” said Gerard, offering another bow as Uriel turned to welcome another mer. Silver clapped his hands and addressed the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemers, this is the last call to please to be seated. It is time to eat,” said Silver.

  The remaining guests took their seats at the tables; Kajal and Zahara returned from the bathroom.

  “Did I miss anything important?” she asked.

  “Only that mera over there, who keeps staring at me as though she’s just seen a dancing turtle,” said David.

  Kajal laughed.

  “That’s Eloise Applebaum, one of the oldest ‘moneyed’ in the Highlands. She’s still probably reeling that something good could come from the other provinces.”

  David smiled. At the centre of each table stood a silver mangrove tree with clouds of flowers for leaves and a spigot on its twisted web of roots. Kajal took a glass from the table and pressed it to the spigot on the side of the tree, serving herself some blueberry champagne and sparkling water drawn up from under the floor. At the centre of the table near the roots was a plate piled high with breads; David helped himself to a salted pretzel roll. Immediately a waiter appeared behind him with a basket of bread and silver tongs, replacing the vacancy with another piece.

  “Choose whatever you like, and don’t be shy. Please enjoy yourself. You deserve to be here more than any of the rest,” said Kajal, sipping her champagne.

  The mangrove dropped an orange blossom onto each of their plates; from their centres rose miniature images of the meal choices, similar to the 4-D images on their televisions. David glanced at Kajal, who was scrolling through the selections by pressing down a leaf. He followed her lead, choosing for himself Set Menu C, which included in its courses a selection of oysters and a fillet David could not pronounce. A servant immediately appeared, setting the first course in front of him on a silver plate. The mera seated next to him leaned nearer.

  “Poached oysters…you have excellent taste for someone with your background,” said the mera.

  “Thank you. Yes, I thought I’d try it, seeing how it’s a far cry from the rotting bones I usually eat,” said David, smiling.

  Kajal swallowed a laugh.

  The rest of the meal went far better than David could’ve expected. Each course was more delicious than the last; David actually managed to forget his nerves and enjoy the food until too soon after the entrée, Kajal set down her fork and asked him to dance.

  David stared at her.

  “You’ll be fine,” said Kajal. They danced for a while under the sparkling crystals without speaking. David concentrated on the steps he had learned until Kajal spoke.

  “So are you enjoying the party?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s amazing, like nothing I could have imagined,” said David.

  “Your little speech about bones was like nothing anyone could have imagined,” said Kajal, smiling. “I daresay Lady Lorraine won’t sleep for the next week.”

  “Oh, that? That was just some pleasantries,” said David, winking. He lifted Kajal into the air with one arm as they hung about a metre from the dance floor, tied to the ceiling with filament.

  “You’re not doing too badly with these dances either. I am impressed,” said Kajal, twisting around.

  “I don’t know who you have to thank more—Silver’s instruction, or the fear of looking like a complete idiot on national television,” said David. He set her down again and lunged, preparing for the next lift.

  “Seriously though, that cameramer is overly enthused about filming us,” said David, glancing toward the mer in the corner with a boxy camera. Every flinch brought a move of the lens as though it was a tracking device. David swallowed.

  “Hang in there, just a few more steps, and there… Sir Michelson, you have just completed your first dance, and not too badly, if you ask me,” said Kajal.

  “Well, I had an excellent partner,” said David, bowing.

  As he looked at Kajal’s feet, he thought of Natalie, wondering if she had seen him dance on television. He paused.

  Natalie… our date! David, how could you?

  “What’s the matter?” asked Kajal.

  “Do you mind if I go?” asked David.

  “Go? Why? Is the camera bothering you so much? I can order him to stop.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just—I think I may have been an idiot to someone very dear to me, and I need to remedy it as soon as possible. Would you mind if I left a bit early?”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “Hopefully one day,” said David.

  Kajal smiled.

  “Can you maybe manage another dance, though? If you leave too early it will be all over the tabloids.”

  “Yeah, okay,” said David.

  “In the meantime I’ll have the servants prepare a box of desserts for you. Maybe it will help get you out of the sandbox,” said Kajal.

  “That would be splendid, thanks,” said David.

  Kajal called a servant and gave him quick instructions before holding out her hand to David, ready to start another dance. The cameramer zoomed in from the side, and he was not the only one watching.

  “Kajal looks ravishing in her dress tonight, does she not? She and the farm boy make a cute couple,” said Regina to Silver. He was leaning against a pillar with his arms across his chest, following the pair with his eyes. Regina took a sip of champagne.

  “Really, I don’t know why my brother acts as though a mera has abso
lutely no needs of her own, constantly batting away Kajal’s suitors. I declare he sees her as nothing more than a piece of meat in the middle of hungry mers. He forgets she may also have an appetite worth whetting, and that’s a dangerous oversight. Wouldn’t you agree?” asked Regina.

  “It is usually wise to agree with the King,” said Silver.

  “Ah, but what do you think? That’s the silver question.”

  “You answer your question with your own life. A mera can manage without a mer, as the King says,” said Silver.

  “And without a jinn? Can a mera manage without that?” asked Regina.

  Silver gave no answer.

  “I see how you look at my niece. You admire more than her dancing,” said Regina. She took another sip from her glass and grabbed his arm.

  “Dance with me, Silver. I’m a fair consolation prize, am I not? Why don’t you dance with me?”

  Without a word, Silver walked away from her, disappearing into the crowd and leaving her alone. The empty glass in her hand began to rattle and shake; in the next moment it exploded into a thousand pieces, as did the walls, floor, and every other glass thing inside the ballroom. Millions of razor-sharp fragments sliced through the air, cutting into mers and toppling the tables. The candles in the mangroves lit the flowers as they fell, which exploded like bombs when they hit the champagne in the shattered floor.

  In less than a minute, the viewing ball went from the event of the century to a catastrophic disaster.

  C H A P T E R 7 0

  “Any sign of him?” asked John, as he leaned outside the window. The frogs outside croaked a negative response. John slapped the window sill and went back to pacing the upstairs room, his face lined with worry. Albert and Stew sat huddled in the top of the grandfather clock, listening as it ticked away the minutes until finally the frogs started croaking in a cacophony of sound. John flung open the door.