by D. S. Murphy
“But they think I’m crazy.”
“Tell them you were distraught and confused. That you made it up. Tell them I told you about the mermaids but I was just teasing you, and you fell for it.”
“Lie to them, so they won’t think I’m a liar?” I glared at him, crossing my arms.
“They’re not ready to handle the truth yet. Your frame of understanding is too large, too scary for them. That doesn’t mean you can’t still be friends. If you want them in your life, you have to conform to their version of reality.”
I smelled the turkey as soon as we entered the house. I’d been so caught up in death threats and swim lessons I’d forgotten Aedan was planning on cooking an American Thanksgiving—even though they don’t celebrate it in Ireland. Aedan’s leg was almost healed, thanks to a few more drops of merrow blood, and he was stirring a pot of mashed potatoes in the kitchen. I helped him set the table and the three of us sat down for dinner together. Aedan made cranberry sauce and stuffing to go with the turkey. It wasn’t the same as my mom’s cooking, but it was still sweet of him to try.
After dinner and a glass of wine, my anger had somewhat subsided. Sebastian was right—there were bigger things to worry about. Roisin and her pictures were annoying, but meaningless in the grand scheme of things. It was more important to find the weapons of the Tuatha Dé, and get stronger in case they were lost for good. If I could also salvage my personal relationships and make amends with my friends before Christmas, the holiday season might just be bearable.
***
For the next few weeks, I was so busy training I nearly forgot that someone was trying to kill me. Or that mermaids were going to wipe out the human race. Instead of driving myself crazy worrying about things I couldn’t control, I focused on the few things I actually could. Learning to move in the water. Feeling the thick, salty liquid between my fingertips. If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost make little shapes like Sebastian could. Maybe not a giraffe, but something that vaguely looked like a fat hippo. I practiced swimming and fighting with Sebastian almost daily. He said I was a natural, though I’m sure he was just humoring me. Before long I could block or duck under most of his punches. Even though I’m sure he was holding back, I was also pretty sure I was getting faster. It felt good to be doing something useful.
Nobody had seen Trevor since the funeral, and nobody else had died since the attack on the beach. Things were almost starting to feel normal again. In school, I caught up with homework and managed to scrape out a decent grade point average. Jackie and I said hi every once in a while, a quick nod while going in opposite directions. Ethan was worse, he scowled at me every time we crossed paths. Roisin showed up every day with a new outfit and expensive accessories, looking like a fashion magazine. It made me sick, but she’d been true to her word. I’d gotten into the habit of leafing through tabloids at the checkout counter but never found any headlines about mermaids.
Being in the lunchroom and seeing my friends was too uncomfortable, so I spent every lunch in the library researching the history of the Tuatha Dé. At least once a week I made Sebastian drive me to one of the ancient sites I’d discovered in my reading. Mount Sandel near Coleraine had been in use since 7400BC. Navan Fort near Armagh was a seat of the Ulster kings, and was made famous in the sagas of Lugh’s son, Cú Chulainn. Howth Head, in Dublin County, was a 2,500-year-old collapsed dolmen known locally as Aideen’s Grave. Aideen was a warrior who died of grief shortly after her husband, Oscar, was killed in battle. Oscar’s father, Oisín, was said to have personally buried her beneath a 75-tonne capstone. I thought maybe we could “sense” the weapons the way we’d sensed the gold under the water, but above ground I didn’t have that same feeling of connection. Every trip ended in disappointment.
Cú Chulainn seems to have claimed leadership after Lugh unlawfully: he destroyed the Stone of Destiny because it didn’t name him as the rightful king. He took Lugh’s spear and refitted it with a new head, the bone of a sea monster. Then it was renamed Gaí Bulga. Maybe he’d done that specifically because merrow could sense metal? There’s no mention of the sword of Núadu after it fell, but maybe, like the spear, it was renamed. If Ethan was right, it was passed down in secrecy, protected by one of the families of the Tuatha Dé. I tried to trace the lineage of the oldest families, but the genealogy websites listed thousands of different branches.
As the weather turned colder, I tried not to think about it being almost Christmas. My first Christmas without my parents. My first Christmas in Ireland. I bought decorations and made Aedan put up a small tree. Sebastian helped decorate it with shells and pearls. Then we made popcorn and watched movies, snuggling under blankets on the couch. I think we both knew we were living on borrowed time. The merrow had given Sebastian “three moons”—which meant, he’d be leaving at the end of January, and if he didn’t… they’d be back. And it would be much worse this time. He was preparing me, trying to toughen me up before he left. Not that it would make any difference. Sebastian would go back, and if he refused to fight, he’d be an enemy to his people. His father’s armies would still move against the humans. And we still had no idea how to stop it.
But when it was just the two of us, alone in the ocean, everything seemed amazing. He made me feel strong and special. In a sense, it was the best time of my life.
The week before Christmas he gave me an early present on our way to our lessons. A long, thin box he told me to open carefully. Inside was the rapier from the Spanish wreck. The gilded hilt sparkled with ornamentation and gemstones, and the long, thin blade gleamed in the afternoon light.
“I got it cleaned and sharpened. Three feet long, fit for a queen.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“People don’t use swords anymore, but they’re a lot better than trying to fight with your bare hands. One quick thrust, at the heart or eye, and you can take out just about anyone who comes at you.”
I held the sword out gingerly and raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you said you were only going to teach me how to defend myself.”
“Well, I didn’t want to mention it earlier, but it’s unlikely an attacker will simply give up or go away after you’ve blocked the first few lunges. You’ll probably need to incapacitate them.”
“You mean kill them.”
“If it comes to that, better them than you. And if they all have knives like the one Ethan has, they’re unlikely to come at you bare-handed like we’ve been practicing.”
“Which means, everything I’ve learned so far is useless.”
“No, not useless. Using weapons in the beginning would have been dangerous for both of us. You’re improving quickly. I think you’re ready for this. Plus, I know you’ve been looking for the weapons of the Tuatha Dé. I thought maybe you’d feel safer if you had one of your own.”
If Sebastian’s gift was meant to make me feel safer, it backfired. I felt clumsy and unbalanced with the sword. He taught me a few basic fencing stances and positions, before putting the sword away.
“Why don’t we just use sticks until you get the hang of it,” he said finally. “You can practice more with the sword on your own.”
“It seems like a lifetime since I got the letter from Mrs. Dubbs, when someone attacked me on the pier. And we still don’t know who sent the letter or what they wanted.”
“One of the Tuatha Dé I assume. It must have been.”
“But why haven’t they attacked again? What are they waiting for?”
“Why don’t we be grateful for the decrease in assassination attempts, shall we? Practice again tomorrow?”
“I can’t tomorrow—actually I think I’ll take a few days off. We have the Christmas Eve concert on Saturday night, I need get ready and find something to wear.”
“Black tie event?” Sebastian asked.
“Something like that. Dressy.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You’re coming?” I asked. “It’s just a high school concert.�
�
“If you think I’m going to skip a chance to see you in a dress, you’re sorely mistaken.” His eyes sparkled as he smiled.
At school the next day my bag was filled with presents. I’d stayed up late wrapping them and listening to carols in front of our little tree. Christmas was in only a few days and I was totally unprepared. I anticipated how much it was going to suck so I tried not to focus on it, but now that it was almost here I figured I should make an effort. Maybe it was my chance to make amends, to start over. I gave each of my teachers a package of cookies and chocolate, and even gave cards to some of the office staff.
In choir we practiced the entire concert, including my solo. I was holding back, but Mrs. Tierney said she was moved to tears. I’m pretty sure I saw several of my classmates sniffling too. At least I could still sing. It gave me enough confidence to do what I needed to do during lunch.
“Hi,” I said, approaching my former friends at our customary table. Derry gave me a tight-lipped smile and an encouraging nod, and Jackie looked hesitant but not unfriendly. Patricia’s gaze was pure ice, but I pushed on.
“Listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Sebastian made a joke about the shark attacks being killer mermaids, and I was so stressed out, and because I’d seen some things I couldn’t explain, I took him seriously. But I was wrong.”
Jackie eyed me over, and there was a long pause so I continued.
“Also I wanted to give you this… it’s an invitation to our Christmas concert. I’m not sure if you were already coming but, I’d really like you to be there. And... presents.” I pulled out the packages I’d wrapped for everyone. Jackie’s eyes glistened with emotion and she reached out for me.
“I missed you so much,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Of course we’ll come to the concert.” I was so relieved I almost started crying when Derry and then Patricia gave me a hug as well.
“So, now that we’re all friends again, can we open our presents?” Patricia asked with a smirk. I nodded and watched them unwrap their gifts: a cashmere scarf for Derry; a high-end makeup kit for Patricia; and a simple, classic bottle of Chanel No. 5 for Jackie.
For the rest of the day, I felt happier than I had in weeks. Jackie hardly left my side, filling me in on all the stuff I’d missed. Even Roisin strutting down the hall in a pair of Versace black tennis shoes with sparkling golden Medusa heads didn’t upset me. I just laughed when Patricia called them desperate and tacky.
I hadn’t seen Sebastian all day but I just figured he was skipping again, or spending time in the ocean—something he often did when he wasn’t with me. When my phone rang an hour after I got home, I assumed it was him before checking the number.
“Miss me already? I said. “I told you, I can’t meet today.”
“Clara, it’s me, Ethan.”
Ethan. We hadn’t spoken in almost two months.
“What do you want? Calling to wish me a Merry Christmas?”
“You need to meet me. Tonight.”
“Last time we spoke you told me never to talk to you again. Now you want another date?”
“I heard my father talking on the phone. They’ve got a merrow. They’re going to sacrifice him. I think it might be Sebastian.”
36
Ethan clamped his hand over my mouth and pushed me down into the dirt, his body pressing against me. I tried to tear his hand away but he shushed me and pointed into the clearing. On the drive over I’d tried calling Sebastian several times but there was no answer. We parked Ethan’s motorcycle on the road and hiked up the canyon to Temhair Falach, then hid behind some logs on one side of the wide space. Ahead of us I could see the stones rising up out of the ground, shrouded in mist. Ethan pointed again and this time I made out the two standing figures. They were so still I hadn’t noticed them at first, even though their long white robes stood out against the dark stones.
A flicker of light caught my eye and I turned to see a procession of ten more men, lifting the hems of their robes as they trod through the rough canyon floor. Some of their beards were so long they had them pulled back over one shoulder. Four carried torches, two at the front and two at the back. Most of the men wore curved swords at their waist, but it was the two in the center that had me fixated—they were holding oak staffs ending in golden sickles, engraved with ornamental decoration. They looked like angelic grim reapers. These two were dragging something between them, a figure with a bag over his head. He stumbled forward, and I saw that his hands were tied behind his back with heavy ropes.
Sebastian.
I shoved against Ethan, struggling to get free, but he held me tightly.
“If you don’t let me go I’ll scream,” I warned.
“And get yourself killed,” he said. “Stop struggling, there’s nothing you can do.”
“Of course there’s something I can do,” I hissed back at him. “I can fight. I can save him. I’m not just going to let him die.”
Ethan looked torn. I realized what he was risking by betraying the Tuatha Dé and bringing me here. He could have just waited until Sebastian was dead, but he’d warned me early. In time to stop them. I’d just have to do it alone.
I was about to stand up and reveal our location when the leader tugged the bag off the figure’s head. I held my breath as it fell away, dreading the sight of Sebastian’s sweet face. I nearly cried with relief when I saw the dark hair. Not Sebastian. Then I recognized the lean, angular features. Trevor.
Ethan let out a long, slow breath next to me. I glanced at him but he just shrugged his shoulders.
“I didn’t know, I swear,” he whispered. “I came as soon as I heard. Still want to save him?”
Trevor, who hit Derry. Who murdered innocent girls. Who humiliated me at Travis’s funeral. I curled my lip in disgust.
The twelve figures lit more torches and then formed a ring around the bound figure. They shoved him to his knees in front of a large, flat rock in the middle of the stone circle. One man stepped onto the altar, rising several feet above the others, and began to speak. The hood of his robe was so low, his whole face was hidden in shadow.
“Brethren our prayers have finally been answered. It has been, according to the records, 362 years since our last communion. In accordance with the laws of our people, first conceived in this place after our victorious revolution, we offer this sacrifice to renew our community, strengthen our alliance, and maintain our holiest relics. None of us here have encountered a merrow personally, nor witnessed a sacrifice such as this one. I hope you feel, as I do, that it is both a privilege and an honor to serve the Tuatha Dé in this manner. As is the custom, and according to tradition, we will drain the body and divide the spoils between us, before beheading the sacrifice and burying the remains beneath the stones, to further enrich our holy site.”
“What do you want to do?” Ethan asked.
I didn’t reply. Was I a murderer if I stood by and let this happen? Probably. But I still made no move to save Trevor. Why should I risk my life for his?
I watched in morbid fascination as the hooded figure raised a gleaming dagger up into the air, and then brought it down swiftly, slicing Trevor’s throat. The torches sputtered and flared as particles of magic were released into the surrounding air. Thick red blood spurted out of Trevor’s neck onto the stone altar, spilling into the grooves and radiating out towards the edges along carved spokes. As the blood spread over the ancient runes, they began to glow with blue light. They were so old and weatherworn, I hadn’t noticed them before, but now they drank the blood greedily and shone with renewed energy.
The men set down the torches and began filling up flasks and containers from the streams of blood flowing over the edge of the rock, which was now glowing like a strange spaceship, brighter than the flickering yellow flames of the torches. Trevor slumped over, his lifeless body tumbling off the stone. I choked back a sob as I realized I’d just witnessed a murder and done nothing to stop it. Or had I? Trevor was merrow, not a man. Was this worse t
han butchering a shark for its fin and then leaving the body? Humans take what they want. That’s how it’s always worked. Why should this be any different? But I knew it was. The hooded figure raised one of the golden sickles and severed Trevor’s head from his body with one quick slice. My stomach churned and I covered my mouth, afraid I was going to puke. Ethan held me to him and put my head against his chest.
“We will bury the sacrifice here, as is our custom, to feed the earth supporting the stones. We do this as proof of the power of our unity.”
The men spread out around the stone, then pointed their palms upwards and began chanting in unison. The stone trembled, then lifted weightlessly into the air. It was as big as a bull, it must have weighed a hundred tons. The leader kicked the body beneath the stone, then grabbed Trevor’s head by the hair and tossed it in also. Once he stepped clear, the other men released the stone. There was sickening squelch as it flattened Trevor’s remains like a grape, splattering the men’s clean white robes with blood.
Is this what happened to my grandmother? Was her blood on these stones? Were they planning to do the same to my mother—is that why she ran? I felt sick picturing my mother held against the rough stones, the sharp edge of the knife slicing through her beautiful skin.
The leader’s hood had fallen back, revealing piercing blue eyes, long silver hair and a dark gray beard. “That’s Marcas Byrne,” Ethan whispered. “Current archmagus, leader of the Cael.” Marcas raised the dagger in one hand and the sickle in the other, both dripping with blood.
“This is the first blood sacrifice in many years, but we are fortunate, brethren, we have been blessed. There is another. We have already set plans in motion. We waited on this sacrifice so we could activate the stones on the winter solstice, when the magic is strongest, but we will not wait so long before the next one. For now, let’s drink and congratulate each other on a successful harvest!”