by Lani Lenore
When Bliss was finished with the man, she let him go, and he wandered down the beach, seeming disoriented. Perhaps he did not quite know what had happened to him, but the mischievous nymph had left marks on his neck, chest, and back, red and obvious. His lover would not be unaware. Innominata was saddened, but was too weak to be angry.
“Dere is no’ting to dat,” Bliss said, slipping down beside her. The girl did not like the heat of the other’s shoulder touching hers. “Humans are free for de choosing.”
“You may have just ruined his life.”
“Perhaps,” Bliss said unfeelingly. “But what do I care?”
“What if you become pregnant?” Innominata asked, but she only looked at the ends of her own fins. There could be real fear in that. That would not be forgiven.
“I wish I would,” Bliss said with a laugh, leaning back, unbothered. “If I had a male child, my my; wouldn’t dat be someting.”
“They’ll kill you,” Innominata argued.
“Dey won’t. Dey can’t.”
How could she think she was untouchable? Was her power so mighty? How could she defeat an army?
“Jou’re pale,” Bliss commented, staring hard at the girl’s face. “Jou need rest.”
Bliss brushed back hair from Innominata’s perspiring forehead, almost affectionately, but the girl shrugged her away.
“You’re wicked,” she returned without thinking, and a shiver passed through her.
Innominata did not look her in the eye, but Bliss seemed surprised by this. She was not friendly in return. She gripped the girl’s pale hair harshly, tilting her head back so that their eyes locked.
“Wicked?” Her eyes were cold as glaciers. “If jou tink dat our imperfect sisters are not de same, jou’re wrong. Dere is no love lost; dere is no loyalty or sympathy between us. So dat jou know de truth, I don’ care about dem either—not as individuals. If I have to sacrifice dem all and start anew, I will. I care about my own freedom. I care about equality. I care about revenge. De humans? I am not out to save dem either. Maybe jou are de one who is different.”
Bliss let go of her, and the girl wondered if she felt a tear coming to her eye. It had been a long time since she’d felt the foreign wetness. Any tears she’d shed in the past several years were merely part of the sea. Bliss was angry with her, but she didn’t care about that. She felt helpless now. Different? Maybe she was. Maybe she was fully defective.
“Jou’re useless like dis,” the silver one said, her voice much softer now. “Come.”
Bliss pulled Innominata’s arm around her own shoulder and helped her into the water. Together, they swam back to their prison.
Chapter Five
A Price Paid
1
Time passed, and for a while, Innominata did not hear from Bliss. She kept her eyes open, but only saw the dark one from a distance. Most of her own time was spent either in solitude or with the Mistress. She couldn’t say that it was an enjoyable change, but it was all the passing of time for her.
When she saw Bliss the next time, it was when once again the number of the palace slaves were lined up before the throne, but they were not bound, and there was no punishment at hand. This time, their purpose was something else.
The warriors were gathering, with natural armors of blue and gray that made them blend into the water, their ebony hair tied back from their fish-like faces. They filtered down from the higher levels of the palace, each with their own attendants, but on a night like this, it was the palace slaves that would accompany them. This was Innominata’s first time to view a feeding. She did not look forward to it.
Bliss was among the number, silent as ever. Innominata tried not to look at her. There was no reason for eye contact, and she did not need anyone else to see. Not even her own sisters could be trusted, and perhaps not even Bliss.
The warriors were working themselves into a frenzy, tuning up their voices and doing somersaults in the water. They did not carry weapons for this endeavor; their teeth and nails would suit them just fine.
Innominata was feeling nervous, though she guessed that if she stayed with the others and didn’t wander, she would avoid reprimand.
Stay in line. That is what they want. That is what they expect.
The Mistress came before them. She served as ruler as well as general for this army, and she often led them on nights like this.
“You’ll join us for the feeding tonight,” she said to the slaves. “Keep your wits about you and do not stray. Be alert and vigilant for your masters. And do not forget the rules.”
2
The moon smiled down on them as the nymphs gathered on the rocks that would serve as the site for their illusion. These rocks were jutting, dangerous, and any sailor in his right mind would know to steer clear of them. And yet that was not what the nymphs intended.
Scouts were searching for any ship that might be drifting near, set to lure it closer to the horde if need be. Innominata was left to wait with the other faces beyond the rocks, out of the way, just below. They were allowed to hold anything the nymphs wished to take with them, and afterward, drag down the bodies of any who fell. Their captors did not like to leave evidence of their presence aside from the wrecked ships and corpses of men. Any of their own kind who fell in battle were taken below.
They waited for hours until the flower of night had blossomed, full and dark and deep. Then, above her head, Innominata heard the song.
Despite the sound of their real voices, the nymphs had always been blessed with the ability to create beautiful song. Their father had given them the power ages ago in order to play a grand joke on the humans. Without practice, their voices could weave together, creating a melodious sound, and the hypnotic qualities within were like no other creature on land or sea.
From her place in the dark waters, Innominata saw the shadow of the ship drifting closer, and she knew that it had been snared.
She knew what the men on the boat were seeing in this illusion. The nymphs were made to appear as beautiful, naked women of human kind, but she only ever saw them for what they truly were. Only when the humans were drawn closer, would the cruel joke be revealed. Innominata wondered if their King had fathomed that there would be nymphs who looked like her—much like what the illusion was set to present. The warriors could have just as easily called the hybrid slaves to the task if they were as willing as Bliss had claimed.
Maybe one day, they would.
Innominata could feel the waters moving around her, shifting as the boat drifted closer still, gaining speed, moving directly for the rocks. She braced for the impact she knew would come, even though it would not strike her. She wondered if her fellow captives felt anything like she did. Did they feel guilt, or sorrow, or fear? Or nothing at all? While they were not being watched, she glanced at them. Most did not seem to be reacting, though some did appear saddened for their own state, still so beaten down by their captors. Far down from her, too far for a whisper, was Bliss, who stared directly ahead at the ship, her eyes alert, taking in everything.
I am always looking for weaknesses, she had said. I don’t have enough yet, but one day…
The girl wondered if she could put her trust in the dark one.
Have I seen enough yet?
As if to invade her thoughts, Innominata felt the impact of the ship, and the water shook. She heard the thunderous boom and the muted crushing of the wood as the rocks did their part without instruction, piercing the ship’s sturdy hull to bring the vessel down. She saw the first of the humans that jumped into the water under the influence of the song—saw the first of her captors leap in after them.
She fought the urge to look, knowing that letting these men be faceless would keep her from feeling the guilt that always came when her kind attacked the humans, which was more often than her heart could take. She should leave it alone, but—
I shouldn’t stray. I should look.
Her fin was moving, driving her toward the surface. Innominata broke the
surface of the water, and in the light of the moon, she saw.
She saw the clouds of blood that erupted in the water. She saw her savage sisters feeding on men wearing garments of blue and silver. There were symbols across the back to the sinking vessel, but she could not understand them. Pinnacle. Though she did not understand it, she could venture a guess. These men were human warriors; this ship, meant for war.
Soon, hands had gripped her fin, pulling her back down. She had to hold her breath to keep water from rushing into her gills, but it was only a moment before she was released. She found herself once again looking into the silver eyes of Bliss, who was staring at her firmly.
“Jou’re going to cause trouble,” she warned, but Innominata wondered if she was only doing it for show. In this moment, she was another nameless slave with a fear of being caught. “Get back in line.”
Innominata knew then that she had reached her limit. She had seen enough. Before Bliss turned away, she gripped the dark one’s arm.
“I’m ready,” she said quietly in the discreet language of her human tongue. “I want to help you.”
Bliss did not say anything, staring at her, but Innominata knew that she understood. She just hoped that the others around her did not.
Innominata was oblivious in her determination, but looking back on that moment, the girl might have recognized that as the night she sold herself to the devil of the deep.
3
Since the nymphs were filled from their recent feeding, and therefore had no need for the palace slaves, Innominata and Bliss took the opportunity to sneak away.
They slipped out of their cells as they had become so accustomed. It was easy for them now, and Innominata no longer feared punishment. They did not travel the long way to the surface this time, but instead went to a place Bliss knew—a sunken vessel further in the deep. The girl was wary of the sharks that circled it. Bliss sensed her fear.
“Do not worry. Dey answer to me.”
As she had promised, the silver beasts, with their beady eyes and wide mouths, did not break from their swimming patterns as the nymphs passed.
Once safely within the ship, Treasure did not look around at the withered boards before she began to speak. She was so set on the cause that she did not care for small talk.
“What must we do?” she asked, a flash of bright resolve in her eyes.
“Jou must be patient,” Bliss said. “I need to meditate.”
Bliss let her body go limp, allowing the water to hold her. She was quiet for a time, her eyes closed. Innominata tried to be silent as she waited, but more questions were burning a hole in her chest. She did not like that Bliss always seemed to get what she wanted with little effort, leaving her as the one in the dark. She wanted to know what she was getting herself into.
“Before anything happens, I need to understand this: how do your powers work?” she asked, breaking into Bliss’s concentration.
“De truth is dat for every exchange, dere is a price,” Bliss said without opening her eyes. “Sometimes temporary; sometimes permanent. It’s like wit all tings. But for instance, I might be weak for a time after bending de world. Or I might simply pull energy from somewhere else and use it immediately at no cost to myself.”
“How did you learn?”
“By watching humans,” Bliss answered. “By believing it. Not all of dem can use magic. I have a talent for it.”
“And you believe that your magic is enough to stand against the Mistress?” the girl asked.
“Not alone, no. I have to be smart as well. Which is why it is so important dat we bide our time.”
Time? How long was this going to take?
“So, you want to forge a connection between us. To look through me.”
“Jes.”
Now they were getting to the root of things. “And what will happen to me? Will anything change?”
Bliss smiled. “A valid question.” But she did not answer it.
“What is the price?” Innominata insisted, unwilling to let her dodge.
“I do not know yet,” Bliss told her, “though I have some ideas. Jou said jou wanted to help.”
“Yes,” Innominata agreed. “I guess I just—”
“No more talking now,” Bliss insisted, putting her fingers to her temples. “Be still.”
Innominata did not ask any more questions, but she was certainly feeling anxious for this. She tried to still herself with the idea that she was willing, and before she’d gone too far in her thoughts, Bliss moved her fingers to Innominata’s temples from her own.
The girl felt a little shock, a dizzying sensation. She stared toward Bliss’s eyelids as she concentrated, too stricken to wonder over the intricate details of what was happening until finally Bliss dropped her hands. Innominata was awake. She had not felt much, and finally she was relieved.
Bliss opened her eyes, and when Innominata saw them, she saw that they were milky white—blank and empty. Nothing had happened to her, but something had happened.
“Your eyes—” she started, but Bliss cut her off.
“A price paid,” she said. “Perhaps it is only temporary, but I can see through jou now. Everyting jou see, I will see. Everyting jou hear, I will hear.”
“And my thoughts?”
Bliss smiled. “I have always been able to read jour thoughts, golden one.”
That sent a shiver through her. Bliss’s blank eyes looked ghastly. The girl did not want to see them anymore.
“What do we do now?” she asked, averting her gaze to her own scales.
“We go back,” Bliss told her. “We will not speak again. Do jou understand? Do not look for me or seek me out. All will be known in time.”
Innominata nodded, and even though Bliss could not see, she seemed to know.
“Go back to jour Mistress,” she urged. “Be alert.”
Chapter Six
Perfect One
1
A decade passed.
The time slipped by her, the years like weeks, like days. Innominata spent her time in silence, in darkness, feeling weak from blood loss. And all the while, she watched.
She watched as the Mistress gathered reports, as different sorts of nymphs from across the sea brought her information. They spoke of sightings, of moon phases, of the voice of the sea. Innominata saw much from her spot at the Mistress’s throne, where she had become a fixture—a prized pet. She watched everything, even if it meant little to her.
All that she saw went directly to Bliss.
The two of them had not been together in quite a long time, separated in the lives that had been planned for them, but they were always connected. Over time, Bliss’s sight had returned, but it was a testament to the exhaustion of her power. Bliss was not all powerful, after all—not as Innominata had wanted to believe.
When the girl was feeling especially alone, she would try talking with Bliss inside her mind, but the dark one did not always respond. Innominata did not know whether she was listening, or if she simply couldn’t be bothered to answer. When she did, it was usually vague.
“Do you see what is happening?” Innominata would ask, seeking a hint of verification. “Is it helpful to you?”
“De time is growing closer now,” Bliss would say, but the golden one did not know how she knew, or what exactly she was waiting for.
The girl was resting by the throne as she thought through these things, the iron brace about her wrist rubbing her skin raw. The Mistress was in good spirits on this day, a little smile about her lips as she sat on the throne, simply enjoying her place there. A choir had come to sing for her, and she had been pleased. She had spent the day in leisure, drinking from the slaves beneath the throne among the company of the greatest warriors in the kingdom. Innominata herself had fresh marks on both sides of her neck. There was blood in her hair, and she was feeling quite sickly as she rested there. At least she was allowed a place on the platform. The others were forced to swim or else hang by their necks below.
&n
bsp; Turning her face toward the throne, Innominata still felt fear to look upon the Mistress. Her imposing size, her cruel stare. She was truly terrible. She had inspired hatred in the rest, and there was no limit to the damage she could do. The girl wished that she was invisible to the ruler. She was not.
Though Innominata could be content enough in her own silence, thinking she might pass the day in the Mistress’s good humor, an interruption shattered that hope.
“Mistress, we caught this one trying to escape.”
The guards flung the escapee forward on the platform before the throne. With her arms bound, the imperfect slave was unable to balance herself in the water, and sank like a stone.
Innominata’s muscles seized immediately. This was not the first time a slave had been caught trying to flee. It happened fairly often, in fact. Sometimes they were killed on sight, and at others, they were dragged back here to serve as an example to the rest. Some managed to get away, only to be caught again later when an eye, alert and full of hate, happened to notice. Innominata guessed that their main flaw was that they were desperate in their attempt to flee and easily snared. When she herself left, she had not done so with the intention of never coming back.
“How far did she get?” the Mistress asked. She did not seem angry, but interested, as if this were another amusement for her day.
“Not far beyond the grounds,” the guard said, her wicked eyes gleaming. “We caught sight of her hiding in the grass.”
“Please,” the slave cried, her voice a shivering wail. “Have mercy! I was foolish. I should not have fled.”
“Certainly true,” the Mistress agreed. Innominata could feel her stomach tightening, writhing—a ball of eels. She was not sure what would come of this, and she struggled to keep her composure. A nod of sympathy would be frowned upon. “What do you think I should do with you then?”
“Let me return,” the imperfect pleaded. “I have been loyal to you, Mistress. I have watched the others and come forward with information. Isn’t that worth something? I will learn my lesson. Please.”