Conclave

by Murray, Lee

  Prastion joins his father and they make their way downstairs, chatting to Anna, but Bastion lingers behind.

  “I think I’d like to go for a swim...if you’d join me,” he says, looking unexpectedly shy.

  “Sure,” I reply, offhandedly. “Be good to stretch out, right?”

  We wander down to the beach, towels wrapped around us. I’m not sure what I’ll do about covering myself once we’re down there; maybe I can wear my towel into the water? Bastion takes the lead, striding down the steep pathway. Once we’re out of earshot, he keeps the conversation formal.

  “We’ll leave first light and rendezvous with the humans tomorrow. It’s up to you to calm the adults down when we’re gone, okay?”

  “On one condition,” I say.

  Bastion frowns and stops walking. I put out a hand to stop myself barging into him and I touch the smooth skin on his chest. I pull it back as if I’d been burnt, heat rising in my face.

  He doesn’t seem to notice. “What condition?”

  “You don’t say a word to anyone about what you saw in the study that night. I don’t have Blight, okay? But I don’t want anyone asking questions.’”

  He nods and starts walking again. “Okay, agreed, but it sure looks like you do have something wrong with you, Thala. You should get it checked out. And you have to keep your part of the agreement.”

  I nod. “Forget about it, I’m fine. So what should I say?”

  “Say we’ve gone on a teenage rebellion trip to the human world to experience the pleasures of human girls,” he says, throwing me a grin over his shoulder.

  I don’t return his smile. “I’m sure you’d like that,” I say, quickening my pace so I pass him on the stairs. I don’t know why I’m angry. I look back at him.

  He bats his fringe out of his eyes and winks. “They’ll believe that rubbish. We’ve been sprinkling our conversation with questions about human breeding habits. It’s been driving Kastion crazy.”

  We reach the beach and sit down for a moment, my fingers fiddling with grains of sand. Bastion stretches and yawns.

  “Prastion is solid, you know,” he says. “You couldn’t ask for a better bonding partner, if it ever comes to that. Are you feeling better now, you know, after the other night?”

  I shrug. We’re far enough apart that our bodies don’t touch, but his hands splay out against the dry sand, centimetres from mine.

  “I’m fine. And to be honest, I haven’t really thought about Prastion and me.”

  We sit there in silence, but my mind is working overtime. ‘”What puzzles me is why you’re trying to do this, to find Prastion’s mother, without involving his father in the search. Surely that would give you more power, more control over the situation. And he has had experience of Sprats in the past, whereas you two have none. I don’t understand...”

  Bastion turns to me, his gaze intense. “It’s important Kastion doesn’t know. He’s too emotional.” I think of Prastion’s smiling father and shake my head.

  “You can’t know what he’s been through to get over her death,” he says. “When I tried to tell him what my brother said, he exploded. He won’t hear anything more about it. That’s why we’re doing this alone. Plus, he’d never agree to our plan.”

  “But what are you going to do? How do you plan to infiltrate the Sprats and find her alive? It’s completely impossible!”

  Bastion puts his finger to his lips and glances behind him. The cliff towers above us and Conclave is out of sight. He draws near to me, lowering his voice. “I can’t tell you, I’m so sorry. You’ve done so much to help us. Just know that it might possibly work, it has a chance and it hasn’t been done before. It’s incredibly important you don’t tell the others anything. I don’t think you really believe we can do this, but we have to try,” he says.

  I inhale his scent, that strange mix of salt and caramel. Sweet and spice. I breathe through my nose, then stop as I realise my whole body is angled towards him.

  He stands and stretches full length, eyes to the sky. His towel drops to the ground. I turn my head away and before I can stop it, a giggle escapes.

  “Come on,” he yells, rushing for the waves. “Let’s swim!”

  We crash into the water and dive simultaneously, our bodies transforming in the white wash, and soon we’re swimming side by side in the green depths. I glance sideways at Bastion’s body, fascinated by the way the scales on his tail flash from blue to silver and back in the light from above.

  He moves like a marlin, smooth and strong, with a natural fluidity. I watch him swim, my eyes scanning the length of his long, lithe body. We duck and dive over the boulders, slide our stomachs across the tops of the kelp beds and pick up speed in the open ocean. Soon we’re racing neck and neck to the outer boundary of our patrolled waters, the ocean a mass of bubbles around us, and Bastion throwing me cheeky looks as he pulls ahead.

  “Finish line ahead!” his words float across my mind, and in an instant, I slam the doors on my thoughts. Bastion grabs my hands as we cross the boundary, swirling me in a circle of bubbles, his eyes full of mischief.

  “You’re fast!” he shouts. “Race you back.” He backflips and barrels off in the opposite direction, heading for home. I don’t bother following. Had Bastion heard my thoughts? Why didn’t I guard my mind from him? I cover my eyes.

  Mortifying.

  It’s around 2am when the cousins make a move. I knew Bastion had been lying about a dawn departure. I could see it in his eyes when he told me and by the way he toyed with his food at dinner.

  I’m prepared, waiting for them by the Cyprus trees, hidden in shadow. A full moon silvers the ocean with a light as bright as neon, so it’s easy to watch their progress across the lawn. They carry their packs on their backs, Prastion’s hanging low over his skinny butt. Bastion walks tall, shouldering a much bigger load than his cousin. They both wear long, black waterproof coats and sturdy walking shoes.

  As they head away from the coast, I fall in behind them. My bag is light, packed with the few things I think I might need for a week’s trip in the human world. If I need more than that, I’ll buy it. My pockets are stuffed with human money. I’ve cut my hair close against my head. I’m dressed in tight black leggings and a long polyprop top, my waterproof jacket wrapped around my waist. I can hear them trudging in front of me, but they’re unaware of my presence. I keep quiet and stay to the side, ready to throw myself to the ground if they should look back. The trees lining the driveway give me some cover and it’s possible they could spot me in the moonlight. But they never look back.

  We reach the outer perimeter of our property and take the road towards the nearest town, some 2km inland. There are no other properties between Conclave and town. Only an empty, gravel road leading to the other side of the peninsula and the safe harbour where their boat is docked. Something moves in the trees to our left and I see Prastion startle.

  Useless.

  Two green boys with no clue of the world outside. Well, I have even less experience of the human world, but I’m not staying behind to be a messenger girl. Who do they think I am—a Cherienne woman? Tellurians of old were said to be the fittest, fiercest warriors of all the pods. They weren’t known for holding back when it came to a challenge. And perhaps that had been our undoing. But that blood still rushes through my veins. I’m not staying behind in Conclave to rot when there’s a chance my people could still be alive down there.

  I’m going to kick me some Spratonite butt.

  16

  I know we’re somewhere on the South Coral Sea, but after that my geography gets fuzzy. More importantly, my food is low. I sneak out to find something fresh to eat and drink. It’s near dusk and the sailors on watch are at the helm, far enough ahead of my hiding place that they don’t notice.

  It’s almost two days since I left home and I’m exhausted. I didn’t anticipate a plane trip. Those boys know more about getting around this world than I gave them credit for. I almost lost them at the airport an
d had to board a different plane. I found out two important things though; a passport is a handy thing to have, and I definitely don’t like flying.

  Sail boat, train, plane to Australia, taxi, now another boat. Or should I say super yacht? When I first sneaked on board, I’d imagined an easy ride. But after more than five hours squashed into a narrow cabinet smelling of bait and old boots, it feels good to stretch out.

  The boat surges through calm water, the wake a long white tendril. The water looks inviting. The faces of Uncle and Jaes flick across my mind.

  I duck into the galley and rummage through a cupboard, settling on some slices of bread and an apple. The food makes me think of Anna. I can see her disappointed expression and Murdoch’s slow smile disappear when he finds out what I’ve done. Anna and Murdoch, our faithful friends. But not only that, our servants. The papers I found in Uncle’s safe explain that they’re both under binding contract to our family, as slaves. And there were other contracts, some curling and yellow with age. As I thumbed through them, I realised Anna and Murdoch weren’t the first brother and sister combination kept captive by our family, they were simply the latest in a long line of Aegis family members fulfilling an age old promise supporting enslavement. And what was it all based on? A spell!

  I hold back a small snort. Ridiculous! I dart out of the galley, heading back to my hidey-hole. It’s hard to believe that Anna and Murdoch are paying a debt from hundreds of years ago. Apparently, back in the day, an Aegis brother and sister surrendered a Tellurian child to the Sprats to save their own lives and some crazy Merwizard sentenced them to eternal serfdom to pay back their debt. He cast a spell on their family, binding them to us and it ends only when some white monster eats our offspring to save them. What did that even mean? How could Uncle continue to honour something so barbaric?

  I take a big breath and crawl back into the smelly cabinet, but a strong hand grabs the back of my jacket and hauls me back out. The apple falls to the deck and rolls away to the bow.

  “Look what the catfish dragged in,” says Bastion, pulling me upright. He doesn’t seem surprised. I groan. Even on a boat in the middle of nowhere, his hair falls across those perceptive blue eyes in just the right way. I drink in the sight of him.

  “Bit of a tight fit?” he grins.

  I ignore him and brush down my clothes. I run a hand through my hair. It’s long and lush, well past my ears. Bastion observes me with a slight smile. Damn my fast growing Mer hair follicles. I promise myself to cut it as soon as I can get my hand on a decent pair of scissors.

  “What the reef are you doing on this ship?” Prastion strides over, tipping to one side as the boat negotiates a swell. He grips a railing, turning pale. A Merman with no sea legs? I guess that’s every Merman. I smile at the thought.

  “This isn’t funny, Thala. You had a job to do. My father will be on our trail in no time because you couldn’t keep your nose out of our business!”

  “I’m here to help,” I say, purposefully ignoring his tirade. “Can I have some water?”

  A human dressed in a dark blue uniform hovers behind him, silently following the exchange. His eyes dart from Prastion to Bastion and back to me where they stay, fixed like glue.

  “Water, ma’am,” he says, handing me a bottle. As I unscrew the cap and take a quick swig, the human takes an officious, military step forward, almost clicking his heels together.

  Prastion and Bastion hover to one side, deep in a whispered exchange. More sailors appear, keen to find out what the excitement’s about. A cluster gathers behind the sailor who gave me the water. They stand still, saying nothing, but the way they run their eyes over my body makes me feel uncomfortable. I take another gulp and they follow my every move—their eyes on the hand gripping the plastic bottle as it moves from waist height to my mouth, then watching the bottle fall away again, like an audience at a tennis match. The closest pushes forward and I take a step back. He reaches a brawny hand towards me, managing to stroke my hair. His eyes are glossy, as if he’s in a trance.

  “What the reef do you think you’re doing?” I’m hard up against the railing now.

  Bastion takes in the situation with a glance. He lays a hand on the sailor’s arm, breaking his concentration.

  “Stand down, Marshall,” he says. The sailor falters and looks around, confused.

  “She’s mesmerising them!” says Prastion in surprise.

  “No, I’m not!”

  “Take her below and keep her away from the humans.”

  “Don’t you tell me what to do!”

  Bastion puts his arm around my shoulders, but we’re stopped by a shout.

  “Another one, sir!”

  One of the burly sailors pushes a small bundle of clothes and blankets in front of him. Topped with a mop of bronze hair and a blue toned forehead, the mess of fabric stops, shakes and sheds his disguise.

  “Jaes!” I feel like I can’t breathe. What is he doing here? “No way!”

  Jaes grins, then leans over and vomits vigorously across the deck, splattering Bastion’s shoes.

  “Wonderful,” says Bastion.

  Bastion and I carry Jaes to a head to clean him, then tuck him into a bed in the main cabin. We dose him with sea sickness pills and he passes out.

  “I can’t believe he followed me,” I whisper, looking down on the sweet, relaxed expression of my only cousin.

  “I can’t believe you followed us,” says Bastion, taking a seat on the opposite bunk.

  “Really?”

  Bastion shrugs. “I’m not easily surprised,” he says, his voice a tired rasp.

  I shake my head. “He’s a smart boy. I didn’t spot him tailing me once.”

  “Maybe he mesmerised people to help him,” says Bastion. “Like you do.”

  “I’ve never had that reaction on humans before,” I reply, feeling heat rise in my face. “I guess I’ve never had the opportunity to find out what I can do.”

  “Well, they definitely seemed to enjoy your Mermaid wiles,” he says sarcastically.

  “Honestly, I didn’t even know I had wiles!”

  Bastion chuckles quietly. “It could have something to do with—puberty, you know—maturing.”

  “Oh, my God, let’s not talk about it,” I say, flushing a deeper red.

  “Well, it could, you know, because of the breeding, the changes…”

  “Stop!” I jam my hands over my ears.

  He laughs and pats my shoulder. “Stay here and look after him. Get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “We only have another twelve hours or so to go. I have some things to get ready. I’ll bring you back some food.” Before I can ask more questions, he closes the metal door behind him with a clang.

  When I wake, it’s dark.

  Bastion is curled at the other end of the bed from me, peaceful in sleep. On the small side table is a plastic-wrapped sandwich. I stare at him for a long while, wondering about his life. I guess he, too, knew about death and loss. Were his parents still alive? I’d never thought to ask. His face is beautiful in the small square of moonlight dotting the bed. He has a long, smooth forehead and clear, blue-bronze skin. I find myself imagining his transformation to Merform and feel a strange warmth suffuse my body as I remember the flash of the scales on his silvery blue tail. I lean over to brush his rebellious fringe away from his eyes, my fingers tingling at the warmth of his skin.

  A movement startles me, and I realise Prastion is in the room and he’s awake. He’s sitting on the bunk above me, looking at the map with a torch. I lean out from my bed and give him a small wave.

  He raises an eyebrow at me, and I can’t meet his solemn, brown eyes.

  “We’ll be there in four hours or so,” he says in a low voice. “Do you still want to help?” He throws a glance at Jaes, who moves in his sleep in the bed opposite.

  I nod.

  “If we could use your mesmerising skills and you can still keep Jaes safe at the s
ame time, then we might have use for you.”

  “I think I can manage it. But I’m not even sure how I do it...”

  “What I’m thinking is, once our sailors drop us off, could you mesmerise them or sing to distract them away from what we’re doing? So they don’t radio for help or anything like that?”

  “I can help too.” Jaes’ voice sounds weak.

  “Go back to sleep, mate,” I say.

  “No, I’m here, aren’t I? I don’t know what you’re doing, Thala, but I’ll watch your back, okay?”

  I can only just make out his serious little face.

  “Okay,” I say, to make him feel included. “Now roll over and go back to sleep, Fishface.” He does it.

  I hop off the lower bunk and stand. “What exactly are you going to do, Prastion Cherienne? What’s the big secret?” I whisper.

  Prastion doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares down at Bastion, whose head lolls off the edge of the lower bunk bed. The silence stretches out between us, and I realise my eyes are back on Bastion’s smooth skin.

  “He’s solid, you know, my cousin Bastion. He’s as good a Mer as you’ll meet.”

  I smile at him in the near darkness. “The funny thing is, he said the same thing about you. He said you’d be a good bond.”

  Prastion shifts position, and I recognise his discomfort.

  “Don’t worry,” I say hastily. “I’m not thinking about that at all. It’s the last thing on my mind.”

  Prastion nods, and I see a brief smile.

  “He likes you,” he says.

  “Who?”

  “Bastion, of course.”

  “What do you mean, he likes me?” I fold my arms across my chest and turn away, flustered.

  “I mean, he’d be a far better match than I would,” says Prastion.

  We’re talking too loudly. Bastion stirs. “Is it time?” he mumbles.

  “Not yet, Bast. Go back to sleep,” whispers Prastion.

  We fall silent. I return to my bunk, perching on the edge, staring up at Prastion expectantly, but he holds the peace ‘til it stretches out between us like melted mozzarella.