The Mermaid's Mirror

by L. K. Madigan

“What was me?”

  “I knew I have seen you before. You are the girl who greets us.”

  Lena looked at him in confusion, then in dawning comprehension. The sea lions! All those times she had waved at seals and sea lions . . . some of them hadn’t been animals at all. Some of them had been mer-folk, wearing their cloaks. “That was you?”

  Nix reached for her hand. “I knew there was a reason.”

  “A reason for what?” she said faintly.

  “For the way I feel about you.” Nix pulled her closer.

  Lena’s gaze moved from his dark, soulful eyes to his beautiful lips. He’s going to kiss me, she thought.

  But after a long moment, Nix pulled back, straightening her cloak. He seemed worried that he might have caused it to slip.

  Lena looked down at the cloak. It might be protecting her . . . but it was getting in the way, too.

  After the day’s catch had been deposited in the village kitchen—shark eggs and spiny king crabs—Lena and Nix stacked their collection baskets in what Lena thought of as the “supply closet,” which was really just an area used for storing tools.

  Then they floated together, not speaking, loath to say goodbye.

  “May I be with you later?” asked Nix.

  “Yes, please,” said Lena, her gaze moving again to his lips. She felt her fingers twitch with the urge to touch those lips. They looked so soft, so full . . . Too late, she realized she should have Clouded her thoughts.

  Nix took her hand and lifted it to his lips. With his eyes never leaving hers, he slowly kissed each of Lena’s fingers. Desire suffused Lena, like sand soaking up water.

  Nix released her hand, then backed away, finally departing.

  In a lovestruck daze, Lena drifted toward the village circle.

  “Cousin!” Lorelei grabbed Lena’s arm and pulled her toward a trio of young mermaids. “Is it true?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Are you going to marry Nix?”

  “What?!” Lena’s own eyes went wide. She looked around at the other mermaids, who were staring with interest at her.

  “Everyone speaks of it,” said Lorelei. “How Nix, who has never taken a mate, cannot be pried away from your side.” Lorelei shook Lena’s arm playfully.

  “I . . . we . . . we’re not getting married!” said Lena. “I’m only sixteen. People my age don’t marry. Not where I come from.”

  “Sixteen?” asked a mermaid with light brown hair. “You are quite a baby. In that case, it is right that you send him away.”

  “Send him away?” Lena’s bewilderment grew. “I’m not going to send him away. I love—” She hesitated. “Being with him. But we’re not, um, mated. We’re just getting to know each other. I’m sorry . . . I don’t remember your name.”

  “Russ.”

  “Russ?” repeated Lena.

  “Short for Rusalka,” said the girl. “This is Wata.” She pointed to another mermaid.

  “And I’m Halia,” piped up a third mermaid. “No doubt Nix is fascinated by your legs!” She giggled, oblivious to the effect her remark had on Lena, who was stung by it.

  “I don’t—”

  “Well,” said Lorelei. “It is a fact that Nix has never shown a fraction of the interest he shows you to any other maid. For a time it was believed he might want to mate with Scylla. Did you meet Scylla?”

  “I . . . wait. Scylla? As in Scylla, the sea monster? Six mouths? Liked to eat sailors? I thought that was a myth.”

  “No,” said Rusalka, shaking her head so that her long hair danced. “Not a myth. But our Scylla is perfectly lovely.” Her white, translucent face quirked in a smile. “Our Scylla possesses one mouth only, and does not dine on sailors. It is her ancestor who was turned into a monster. And to be fair, that Scylla was a great beauty, before her unfortunate transformation.”

  “Never mind all that ancient history,” said Lorelei. “As I was saying, for a time we believed Nix might want to mate with Scylla. He invited her to the Gifting of the Cloaks last spring, and he sometimes dined with her family. But Scylla says—” She lowered her voice. “His eyes were never alight with love in her presence. She could see no future in them.”

  Lena caught her breath. I see love and light in Nix’s eyes, she thought. And the more I look, the more I see the future.

  “But everyone notices how he seeks you out, and looks at you with intense desire. Do you think it is the legs?”

  Lena glared. “It’s not my legs!”

  Lorelei looked surprised. “No? They’re very clever.” She reached down and touched Lena’s kneecaps. “Especially these hard, bony parts. So unexpected.”

  “Why do you not remove your cloak?” asked Halia. “You have been here ages, and yet you still wear it.”

  “I want to remove it,” said Lena. “But I need it to survive down here.”

  “Oh,” said Lorelei, looking sympathetic. “Did Auntie Lu not explain? When your heart tells you true, it will be safe to take off the cloak. Then you will breathe like the rest of us.”

  “She told me,” said Lena. “But how will I know for sure?”

  “I just told you. Your heart will tell you true.”

  Lena rolled her eyes. What did that mean?

  Wata touched her arm. “You must not feel uncertainty. Do not remove the cloak if you do.” Her expression was worried.

  “I won’t,” said Lena. She shifted under its weight. “Although I want to take it off! It feels so heavy now.”

  “Ah.” Lorelei looked relieved. “That is the beginning.”

  The other mermaids nodded.

  “The beginning of what?” asked Lena.

  All four mermaids chorused together:

  “When the weight of fathoms presses down on you,

  The moment for doffing the cloak is due.”

  Lena laughed. “Does everything have a song?”

  “Of course,” said Rusalka. “How else does one remember things?”

  Lena noticed that Halia was staring at her legs. “Um, did you want to touch them?”

  The mermaid startled, then tried to pretend indifference. “I do not envy you your clumsy legs.” But her avid gaze said otherwise.

  Lena shrugged. “They’re only clumsy down here.”

  “Well, since you offer,” said Halia, and she stretched out a hand quickly, feeling the muscles and sinews of Lena’s leg. Then she grasped Lena’s foot, examining it with the scrutiny of a scientist. After a long moment, she said to Lorelei, “They are clever, aren’t they? So much stronger than they look. And so very many bones! It would be a shame to give them up.”

  “Give them up?” said Lena. “What are you talking about?”

  “Won’t you ask for a tail?” said Halia.

  Lena just stared.

  “Halia,” said Lorelei. “I do not think—”

  “Surely you intend to transform,” persisted the mermaid.

  “Halia! You speak nonsense.” This time it was Wata who chided Halia. She said to Lena, “It is a myth. We do not know of any humans getting tails.”

  “But—” said Lena. “Up until a few weeks ago, I would have said that mermaids were a myth.”

  The mermaids shifted uneasily.

  “I spoke hastily,” said Halia. “Pay no mind.” But her amber eyes held a sly light.

  “How does someone ask for a tail?” said Lena. “Who does one ask?”

  But the mermaids were drifting away from her.

  “I believe I hear my mother calling,” said Rusalka.

  The others nodded, as if a chorus of mothers had begun clamoring for them. And they fled.

  Brian woke up on the beach.

  He jerked upright, scanning the waves with eyes that peered out of a sunburned face. What if she’d come back while he was sleeping? But the surface of the sea remained empty. For the first time since Lena’s disappearance, tears rolled down his cheeks, now thin and covered by a beard.

  She’s not coming back.

  He stood and looked down the beach, almost hoping t
o see Allie heading his way. But it was barely dawn, and Allie was asleep at home. He moved stiffly toward the rocks and clambered up. When he reached the place where Lena and Lucy had jumped, he stared down into the dark, inviting depths.

  It would be so easy . . . Two more steps and he would be in the clasp of the sea.

  Brian picked up Lena’s shoes—still waiting on the rocks—and turned to head home.

  Chapter 41

  Time drifted in loose, lazy ripples. Lena forgot to keep track of how long she had been in the world beneath the waves. Her mornings were spent attending lessons with the youngest children, and her afternoons were spent with Nix. When it was time for sleep, she retired with her mother to the cave for the Riven. They talked until they grew drowsy, and then Lena slept, dreams of sunlight and half-remembered faces flickering through her subconscious. When she awoke, it was always a relief to find herself still among the mer-folk.

  Sometimes she sat cross-legged, studying the way her legs and feet bent to accommodate her weight. She plucked idly at the yarn braid on her ankle, no longer remembering where it came from. If I had a tail, thought Lena, I could swim as fast as everyone else. As fast as Nix.

  Lena found that her thoughts returned obsessively to the idea of a tail. Was it a similar process to being Riven . . . except, well, the opposite? Did it hurt? Certainly, it would make life easier here in the world beneath the waves. She was a proficient swimmer, but there was no question that even the youngest mermaid child swam faster than she did. Nix seemed not to mind, but she hated knowing that she slowed him down when they foraged together. She wanted to be his equal.

  And she had to admit: it would be nice to blend in, instead of being stared at all the time. Her legs were still a source of constant fascination to most of the villagers. Lena stretched them out in front of her, running her hands down the muscles of her thighs. How would it work? Would her muscles melt . . . or would her legs just kind of seal themselves together?

  But really, all questions boiled down to one: was it permanent?

  “Where did you find those pearls for your ears?” asked Nix.

  He was seated across from Lena at the large stone dining table. They had unloaded baskets of mollusks from their most recent forage, and were enjoying some refreshing kelp juice. He reached across the table to brush Lena’s hair back from her face, caressing her cheek.

  “They were a gift,” she said.

  “Yes? Who gave you such precious gems?”

  “A sea otter,” she answered, her face warming under his touch.

  Nix laughed. “A sea otter? I have never heard of such a thing.”

  Lena laughed, too. “You’re right. How can that be?” She tried to remember. “It was . . . oh! On my birthday! The pearls were in a little pink box. Hmm. It seems impossible, but I keep picturing a sea otter holding out the box to me.”

  “Then it must be so. What a generous otter.”

  Lena smiled. “I first saw my mother on my birthday. It was the best day of my life.”

  “Was it?” he said softly. “This is the best day of my life.” He left his side of the table and settled next to Lena. Cupping her face with both hands, he leaned close.

  Lena had an instant to think, I hope he doesn’t stop this time, before the universe narrowed down to the two of them, lips joined, arms sliding around each other. The table, the village, the sea, disappeared. There were only lips and tongues and teeth.

  After several long, sweet minutes, they broke apart. Lena grabbed Nix’s hand, and held it hard against her chest, so he could feel her heart race. Nix took her other hand and pressed it to his chest, so she could feel the answering rhythm. “I love you, Selena,” he whispered.

  “I love you, Nix,” she said.

  At last they became aware of their surroundings once more, realizing that half the village seemed to be transfixed, staring unabashedly at them. A voice called out, “Blessings on their love!” and when Lena turned to see who it was, she saw Lorelei, her face bright with happiness.

  Most of the villagers were smiling and nodding . . . even Scylla, Lena noticed. Then she caught sight of her grandmother, who merely studied them for a long, appraising moment, then swam away.

  Although it would have been unthinkable in her old life, in this world, the idea of marrying Nix did not seem outrageous.

  “Never leave me,” he sometimes whispered in Lena’s mind, and she tightened her arms around him, promising with her fierce embrace.

  Even Lena’s grandmother, disapproving at first, had finally relented. “I see you are not to be separated,” she said. “I feared for your heart, Nix, but it appears that the land child intends to stay.” With an expression of amusement, she added, “Perhaps one day she will even relinquish that wretched human garment.”

  Lena was used to being teased about her jacket. She intended to remove it . . . after all, she couldn’t wear it forever, but first she needed to take off the cloak. And that thought made her a little bit apprehensive. She wanted to be quite certain her desire to live among mer-folk was strong enough to support her body in this element.

  Someday, perhaps she would go back to the land. Her father—was it Brian or Byron?—must miss her, but he would understand her desire to stay with her mother and explore the half of her heritage that had lain dormant for sixteen years.

  And the others in her life?

  Lena mused on them for a moment. There were surely people on land who would mourn her loss . . . but she could no longer remember them.

  “Mama,” said Lena. “Who do I ask for a tail?” She lay with her head in her mother’s lap, half-asleep from the caress of Melusina’s fingers through her hair.

  Her mother’s hand jerked, and Lena could feel her body stiffen.

  Lena sat up. “Mama?”

  “Who told you that?”

  Lena studied her mother’s tight expression. “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “You . . . you are not to ask for a tail.” Her mother rose and began to swim around the cave . . . the undersea version of pacing. “Promise me, Selena!”

  Lena stared, then said slowly, “I don’t understand. Why can’t I have a tail if I want one?”

  Her mother’s swimming grew more agitated. “They are your legs. Your beautiful legs! How could you even think of relinquishing them?”

  Lena felt a flare of anger. “You are asking me this?You, who chose to be Riven?”

  Melusina sank down on the bed of seaweed again. She put her face in her hands.

  Lena could hear some of her mother’s thoughts—she was too upset to Cloud them.

  Her long, strong legs . . . her lovely moonbeam feet . . . How can I make her understand? . . . But how do I dare to object? . . . Why would anyone surrender the ability to walk? . . . Oh, no, no, no . . .

  “Mama,” she said. “Please calm down. I’m only asking. Can’t you answer some questions? Or do I have to find someone else to tell me?”

  Melusina looked at Lena with haunted eyes, but she managed to compose herself. “I will answer.”

  “Good,” said Lena. “Well, I mainly want to know if it’s permanent . . . or can I change back to having legs when I want to go on land?”

  “You want to return to land?” Melusina’s voice trembled.

  Lena sighed. “Not right now. I’m just asking.”

  “No one knows with certainty,” said her mother. “No human has transformed for many generations. Our legends tell of those who made the change, but they are unclear on whether or not those humans ever regained their legs.”

  Lena made an exasperated sound. “How can they be unclear? You guys have a song for everything, even one to tell a human when it’s time to take off the cloak! There must be some little rhyme about transforming.” Suddenly, Lena sensed her mother Clouding her response. “There is. You just don’t want to tell me.”

  “Selena, you are far too young to make such a grave decision when the consequences are in doubt.” Melusina tried to force a smile. “What a ch
ildish notion!”

  Lena rose and faced her mother, unsmiling. “I am not a child. What I choose to do with my body is no one’s business.” She paused, then said deliberately, “Not even my mother’s.” She swam toward the entrance of the cave.

  “Tender maiden,” called Melusina. “Please stay. We shall talk more.”

  Lena left the cave.

  “Oh, cousin,” said Lorelei. “Look at these garnets! Havfine found a pouch of jewels on his last exploration. I’m going to add them to my necklace. He’s very sweet, is he not? And he has asked me to accompany him to the surface later.” She fingered her necklace, already heavy with various gems and pearls. “Do you like him?”

  Havfine was an adventurous young merman, always jaunting off to exotic locales. Lena did like him, but she was too impatient for girl-talk. “Hav is very nice,” she said. “Lori, I want to know how to get a tail.”

  Lorelei’s smile faded.

  “Please. My mother won’t tell me.”

  “Then I should certainly not!”

  Lena put her hand on Lorelei’s arm. “Lorelei. I am in love with Nix. You know I am.”

  Lorelei’s expression softened. “Anyone who looks at you knows that.”

  “I want to be his equal. My legs slow me down.”

  “But what if . . . what if you want to return to land?”

  “That’s what I need to find out: whether the change is permanent. My mother says no one knows for sure, because it’s been so long since anyone asked for a tail.”

  “It’s—” Lorelei looked down at the blood-red jewels in her hand. “I’ve heard it’s painful.”

  Lena nodded. That made sense.

  Lorelei sang:

  “The twain of human legs, with their bones and blood and flesh,

  Must knit with tears and pain, as the mermaid’s tail doth mesh.”

  “I understand. But . . . is there no song about getting the legs back?”