The Mermaid's Mirror

by L. K. Madigan

  “Why?”

  Melusina paused, then said slowly, “The cloak protects humans beneath the surface, just as it protects mer-folk above the waves. But once you rise above the surface, the enchantment of the cloak will cease for you and your body will require air.”

  “Oh,” said Lena, wide-eyed. “I thought you said I could go without the cloak and still breathe under water.”

  “I did. But not above the water.”

  “Um, okay, I’ll wait here.”

  Still holding her daughter’s hand, Melusina rose for air. Lena watched from below, fingering the cloak.

  “Let us return to the village now,” said Melusina, when she slid back under water. “We will eat and drink, and you may spend time with your cousins. They have many questions to ask you.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  It was a long journey back to the village. As they drew near, Lena felt her heart lift. So many new family members to get to know! She found herself searching for Nix. So soon? she thought. Do I have a crush on a merman just days after I find out I’m half-mermaid?

  Lorelei must have been watching for their arrival, because she hurried to join them. “Cousin Selena,” she said. “Merrow is giving a lesson to the young ones about the world above the waves. Come listen! Perhaps he is mistaken, and you can tell us better.”

  Lena saw a group of small mermaids and merboys clustered around Merrow. “I doubt I can tell you better,” she said.

  “But you are from that world,” insisted Lorelei. “Of course you know better! We should be taught the truth.”

  “Lorelei,” chided Melusina. “Your grandfather teaches the ancient rhymes and songs. Those tales are meant to teach the young ones simple facts about the world above the waves . . . not detailed descriptions of modern human life.”

  Lorelei pouted. “Well, I want to know about modern human life!”

  Melusina sighed. “Yes, Lori, you are always curious about the human world. I do not know, however, if it is wise for Selena to share her stories.” She turned to Lena. “As you see, we do not teach using pen and paper. We pass along images and songs to our young ones, and that is how they learn. But I am not certain whether we should hear your tales of human society. Perhaps they would be disturbing.”

  Lorelei scowled. “What a childish concern,” she said. “I want to hear all about the humans.”

  Lena couldn’t help smiling. It was a novelty to feel so foreign and interesting. “Maybe you should tell me some stories.”

  Lorelei shrugged. “Nothing ever happens here. Your arrival is the most exciting thing to occur in a hundred moons.”

  “What does everyone do all day down here?”

  Melusina laughed, causing her pearl necklaces to dance. “Ah, Selena! We have much to do. We perform what you call ‘work,’ but not in order to gain—” She hesitated, again tapping her forehead. “I always forget the word. It means . . . hmm, it has something to do with getting things.”

  “Money?”

  “Yes! We do not work to get money.” She shook her head, as if disappointed that she couldn’t remember the word. “We work to find food, and we spend time preparing the food. We have scouts who patrol the waters around us, to ensure the safety of the village. We have lookouts, as you saw, to announce the arrival of visitors, or to warn of intruders. We spend time teaching the young ones about our history, and about the other creatures of the waters.”

  “Is that it? Don’t you do anything for fun?”

  Melusina smiled again and leaned close, teasing, “No, no. We have no fun. It is nothing but work and drudgery here in the world beneath the waves.”

  Lena chuckled. “Okay, that was a silly question.”

  “We spend far more time in play than work, as a matter of fact.” When Lorelei made a disbelieving sound, Melusina insisted, “It is true! We sing, we tell tales, we make music. We travel a great deal. There is so much to see! How could one ever grow weary of the sea?”

  Lena watched a mermaid cuddle a tiny baby with a wee, wriggling tail. Nearby, a circle of children played what looked like a version of ring-around-the-rosy. In the distance, mer-folk were pounding kelp and stirring pots, chatting as they worked. All around her, the villagers bustled with work and play, like any community. And ah! There was the handsome Nix carrying fresh seaweed into the sleeping cave.

  Melusina noticed her riveted attention, and said, “Lorelei, I must beg your patience once again. Lena has others to meet. Will you dine with us? We have not eaten for hours.”

  “Yes, indeed,” said Lorelei. “I will set out supper for us.” She swam away.

  Lena and her mother swam toward the place where Nix had gone. As they approached the cave, Nix reappeared.

  “Hello!” he said, a look of pleasure lighting his face.

  “Hello,” said Lena.

  Nix moved closer to Lena and took her hand. “I have been thinking of you.”

  Her heart tripped and sped up.

  “May I hear my name in your voice? I am called Nix.” The dark pools of his eyes were endless, and his large hand enveloped hers, making her feel that no one had ever held her hand properly before.

  Pausing to fix his name clearly in her mind, Lena said, “Nix.”

  They floated for a long moment, staring at each other.

  This kind of staring would never happen on land, thought Lena. People would look away, feel embarrassed.

  But here there was no self-consciousness, only a deepening connection. Nix took her other hand, and Lena felt a dizzy warmth flow through her. I think I’m swooning.

  Brian did not look away from the waves, even when Allie sat down on the sand next to him. They no longer spoke. Allie’s entreaties for him to come home had made no impression. How could they, when his heart was gone? She opened the plastic bag she had brought him yesterday . . . The food was untouched, but at least he’d drunk the water. Allie lay her head on his shoulder for a moment, and Brian felt a flicker of compassion. He was sorry to leave them alone—his second wife and child—but he couldn’t abandon his vigil.

  Chapter 39

  Lena watched her mother sleep.

  The mermaid’s expression was troubled, and once, her hand rose up, as if reaching out to someone.

  How horrible, thought Lena. To relive your past over and over in your dreams, and to forget it as soon as you wake up.

  A figure appeared at the entrance to their cave, and Lena’s heart lifted at the sight of a nimbus of green and gold hair.

  Nix swam close to her. “Hello,” he said, his voice deep and quiet in her mind.

  Lena’s face warmed as she answered, “Hello.”

  Then a silence hung between them. Nix gazed tranquilly at her, his bare, bronzed chest just inches from her. Lena looked everywhere but at him. She had grown accustomed to the sight of bare torsos in this world, but something about the nearness of Nix’s skin made it hard to think straight.

  “Do you wish to stay until your mother wakes?” he asked finally.

  Lena glanced up at him, then at her mother’s sleeping form. “I . . . I don’t know,” she said. “My mother and I have not been apart since we reunited.”

  He smiled. “I understand your reluctance. Perhaps you would be willing to allow me to keep you company?”

  Lena nodded, feeling that she would be willing to try whatever Nix suggested.

  “Your face is so familiar,” he said unexpectedly. “How is that possible?”

  Lena shook her head. “I don’t think it is possible.”

  Another silence descended. Then a frown crossed Lena’s brow. “You’re in the cave for the Riven.”

  “Yes?”

  “Aren’t you afraid her dreams will be upsetting?” She pointed to her mother.

  Nix made an impatient gesture. “The old ways,” he said, “are full of fear and superstition. I do not fear your mother’s dreams.” He watched Melusina for a moment, his gaze compassionate. “Her memories harm no one but her.”

  A lump came
into Lena’s throat and she nodded, grateful for Nix’s sympathy.

  His dark eyes settled on Lena’s face again. She forced herself not to look away in shyness. After a long moment, she felt the same dizzy rush as the last time she and Nix had stared into each other’s eyes. The water between them seemed to grow warmer.

  That swoon is happening again, she thought.

  Nix took her hand, drawing her closer.

  Lena’s breathing quickened.

  “We could leave a message for your mother,” said Nix. “She would know you are safe.”

  “Really? How do you leave messages?”

  Nix lowered his gaze and looked around the cave. He let go of Lena’s hand while he gathered up three smooth stones the size of his palm. He positioned them on the seafloor next to Melusina, their edges touching.

  Lena watched him. “Why three?”

  He hesitated. “I do not know. We have always used three stones for reassurance. I suppose one or two would appear to be accidental. But three stones placed just so”—he nodded down at the trio—“appear very deliberate.” He offered his arm to Lena in a courtly, old-fashioned gesture. “Will you join me?”

  Slipping her hand into the crook of his arm, Lena swam with Nix through the village, curious stares following in their wake.

  “Dearest maiden,” said her mother, when Lena returned. “I felt your absence keenly.”

  Lena lowered her eyes, embarrassed. It seemed that mothers were overly protective no matter where they lived. “I was just out for a w—” She faltered. Not a walk, she reminded herself. “A swim with Nix. He was showing me around.”

  “Indeed,” said Melusina. “I hope that I may trust Nix to keep you safe.” She gave him a stern look.

  “Mother,” whispered Lena, mortified.

  Instead of backing away, Nix met Melusina’s gaze directly. “I will never put your daughter in harm’s way. She is a treasure.”

  Lena’s heart fluttered. Someone—a different boy—had once called her . . . what? A jewel? A feeling of déjà vu swept over her.

  “Nix,” she said. “Your words are sweet. Thank you. I enjoyed our time together.” Even though her mother was right next to her, Lena could not help falling into the depths of his eyes. She wanted to reach for his hand again—not touching Nix was becoming unbearable.

  Nix must have read her thoughts, because he moved closer to her, and took both her hands in his. “Selena,” he said. “I will return to you. The time apart will be long.”

  Oh, she thought. So this is what it feels like . . . falling in love. I wish I could tell—

  The image of a girl with long black hair and pink yarn around her ankle did not even take shape fully in Lena’s mind before dissolving.

  Chapter 40

  “Fossegrim, please put aside your flute,” said Merrow. He floated in front of the group of young children, waiting for quiet.

  Fossegrim lay his flute on the seafloor next to him and beamed up at Merrow. “Will you teach us more about the care of seahorses? Mine keep dying.”

  Lena suppressed a giggle. In this world, pet seahorses lasted about as long as goldfish or box turtles did on land.

  “Another time,” said Merrow. “Today we will practice our Clouding.”

  “Oh, that’s hard,” sighed Syrenka. She turned to Lena. “You’re not very good at it.”

  Now Lena’s giggle burst out. “I know, Syrenka. I’m trying, though. Where I come from, we talk out loud instead of with our minds, so we don’t have to learn Clouding.”

  Lena loved to take lessons with the children—on land, she supposed they would be five or six years old. For some reason, she was filled with happiness when she was with them, although sometimes the sight of their rounded cheeks and bright eyes caused a nameless ache inside her.

  Merrow lifted his hands, as if conducting an orchestra, and began, “Clouds are kind . . .”

  The children sang the rhyme that reminded them to obscure their thoughts when necessary:

  “Clouds are kind to everyone.

  Some thoughts are just for me.

  Clouding works and it is fun!

  Some thoughts are not to see.”

  It was true that Lena was still struggling to cloud her private thoughts from regular speech. But she practiced diligently, because she worried that too many people could read her thoughts about Nix. And those thoughts were definitely private.

  Merrow described various methods of Clouding while the children listened. “Perhaps you may visualize a blanket of seaweed covering up your unkind thoughts,” he said. “Or a large clamshell closing around your angry thoughts. What do you picture, Thoosa, when you want to hide your thoughts?”

  Thoosa piped up, “I picture a cloud of squid ink!”

  “Very good. And you, Achelous?”

  “I picture an upside-down basket on top of my mean thoughts.”

  Merrow smiled. “Lena? Do you have a particular image that works for you?”

  “Yes,” said Lena. “I picture a curtain falling over my private thoughts.”

  “What’s a curtain?” asked Thoosa.

  “Oh,” said Lena. “You don’t have windows. Well, see . . . okay, let me explain what a house is. On land, humans live in these things called houses. And windows are—”

  “Selena,” interrupted Merrow. “Let us talk of houses another day. These children are a bit young to comprehend human dwellings. We teach those concepts when they are older. I believe I know what you mean by a curtain, and that image will work quite well for Clouding.” He continued on with the lesson. “Lealiki, what do you picture when you want to hide your thoughts?”

  Nix appeared at the edge of the school circle, and Lena did not hear another word her grandfather said.

  “Shall I teach you to find food?” he asked. His voice was quiet, but Lena felt the pull of his presence like the tide feels the moon.

  She dropped a mental curtain over her own thoughts: I can’t believe that gorgeous merman wants to be with me.

  “May I be excused, Grandfather?” she asked.

  Merrow nodded, and Lena swam quickly to Nix’s side. He took both of her hands in his large ones. Warmth spread from Lena’s fingers all the way to her toes.

  “I shall expect a great bounty for my evening meal,” Merrow called after them, and they laughed.

  Nix released one of her hands but kept hold of the other one, and they swam slowly away from the village. “I confess my offer is made out of self-interest.”

  “Oh?”

  “If I teach you to find food . . .” He looked at her slyly. “We will have time alone together.”

  “That’s brilliant,” sighed Lena.

  As they foraged for abalone, Lena did her best to explain how humans acquired food.

  “The food is already packaged,” she said. “And sold in—” But there was no word for stores in their language. “. . . in public centers.”

  “Circles?”

  “Um, no. In public buildings. You’ve seen human buildings, yes?”

  “Yes.” Nix loved to travel and had seen many human coastal towns, wearing his sealskin cloak as a disguise. “So workers gather the food from the ground and carry it to the centers?”

  “Yes!” said Lena. “Farmers grow the crops, harvest them, and sell them in stores. I mean, public centers. Other people raise—” Again, there was no word for livestock in their language. “. . . certain animals for food. And of course,” she said, smiling, “fishermen catch fish for people to eat, too.”

  “Does no one forage? As we are doing?”

  “Well, not really. Some people do. They go out picking—” She thought of berries and mushrooms. “Um, foods that grow in the ground,” she amended. “And some people hunt and kill animals for their own families. But most people just buy their food at the . . . public center. Using money.”

  “Ah, yes, money,” said Nix. Lena had already explained the concept of money to him. “I like foraging,” he said. “Wondering what the sea wil
l yield . . . discovering a nest of turtle eggs or a new kelp forest. It must be strange to see so many kinds of food arrayed in one place, and never to know the people who provided it.”

  Lena smiled. “It does sound strange, when you put it that way. But we have so many, many people on land. Not like the village, where you know everyone.”

  Nix slowed in his swimming. “It seems a miracle, does it not? That you, from the wide world, should come to our small village.” He spoke as if he still couldn’t quite believe it.

  “No, it’s not a miracle,” said Lena. “This is my mother’s home. It was inevitable that I would come here.”

  “But you were separated for so long! What if your father had removed you from the town of your birth? You and Melusina might never have found each other.”

  “True,” said Lena, shivering. “I only wish we had found each other years ago.” She paused. A wisp of doubt niggled at her. But if we had found each other years ago, she thought . . . and her mind encountered a white space that had once been filled with memories.

  “I would like to see the place where your parents met,” said Nix. “Will you show me?”

  “I don’t know how to find it,” said Lena, and the wispy doubt blossomed into a vague worry. What if she wanted to go there?

  “Can you describe it to me?”

  Lena pictured Magic’s. “There is a large cove. On the northernmost point, there is a lighthouse.” Luckily, mer-folk had a word for lighthouse. Roughly translated, it meant “tower of pulsing light.” She closed her eyes to better see the beach in her memory. “On the southern end of the cove, there is a long, jagged jetty. Shipwreck Rocks. The beach between the rocks and the lighthouse is called Magic Crescent Cove. The waves there are sometimes huge . . . very dangerous to humans, but they cannot resist trying to conquer them.” She opened her eyes.

  Nix had a wondering expression on his face. “It was you,” he said.