Next time you see me, Nix, she thought, there will be no cloak or human garment between us.
The village was quiet—it was one of those rare occasions when almost all the mer-folk were asleep or surfacing. Lena swam into the cave for the Riven, where her mother lay.
“Mama,” she said, touching her mother’s arm.
“Daughter.” Melusina smiled, opening her eyes and stretching.
“I am ready to take off the cloak.”
Her mother sat up, searching Lena’s face. Then she smiled. “I knew your heart would banish your doubt.”
“What should I do? Is there a ceremony?”
Melusina shook her head. “Do you feel any anxiety?”
“No.”
“Even in the most secret pulse of your blood?”
“No,” repeated Lena.
Melusina put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, studying her carefully, then agreed, “I feel no trepidation within you.” She smiled and took her hands away. “I feel only impatience. Close your eyes.”
Lena obeyed.
“Allow your immutable belief in this world to fill your soul. Allow the never-ending love of your mother to hold you steady. Allow the support of our people to bind you to this place. And lastly, allow the purity of true love to light your desire.”
Fingers caressing the sealskin cloak, as if in gratitude for its protection, Lena filled her mind with images from her new life: the mystical people of this undersea village, revolving around her in their welcoming dance . . . Lorelei’s loyalty and humor . . . Merrow’s warm embrace . . . playful dolphins . . . children with their flutes . . . her mother’s joy at having Lena back . . . and finally, the dark eyes of her true love, drinking in the sight of her as if he would never have his fill . . .
Fixing this last image in her mind, Lena slowly pushed the sealskin cloak off her head and down below her shoulders. She inhaled. The life-giving ocean water continued to flow in and out of her lungs. There was no sudden need for air. She smiled.
“You are my brave daughter,” said her mother.
Lena laughed and lifted her arms, now so much lighter, spinning around in pleasure. She put her hands on her jacket. “And now,” she said, “I can finally take this off!”
Melusina clapped.
“I guess I’ll take off the shirt, too,” said Lena, hesitating.
“Of course.”
“Even though my, um, chest will show.”
“Ah,” said Melusina, smiling. “You shall have a necklace to wear, if you feel modest.”
“Could I have one like yours?” asked Lena. “With the white and black pearls?”
“We shall dive for pearls together until we have gathered enough for you. But it would bring me immense pleasure to have you wear mine, until we make you a necklace of your own. Yours should contain diamonds, as well, in honor of your village on land.”
“Wait till Nix sees me.” Lena began to slide out of her jacket, feeling something in the pockets as she did so. She put her hand into the left pocket and pulled out the coral comb she had found in her father’s sea chest.
She blinked. “Oh,” she said. “I forgot this was in there.”
Melusina stared at the heavy coral comb. “My . . . that is my comb,” she said in confusion.
Lena held it out to her. Melusina took it, turning it over in her hands. She lifted it to her head and drew it slowly through her hair, her eyes fluttering shut. “This was given to me when I was a small maid,” she whispered.
With something like dread, Lena felt in her other pocket, and withdrew the mermaid’s mirror. She lifted it to her face and saw her own startled reflection. Then, in a swift whirl of colors, the surface of the mirror began to change. She barely had time to think, Now that I’m down here, what will I see in the mirror?
And there, suddenly, in the crystalline glass, was her father. And Allie.
Lena’s memories crashed back into her mind.
The cloak, she thought. That damnable cloak. It stole my memory.
Her parents were in their bedroom, yellowish light from a bedside lamp illuminating their still figures. It had been so long since Lena had seen electrical light that she squinted against its brightness. Her dad was sitting up in bed, a book in his lap, but he wasn’t reading. He stared blankly in front of him, his face wan. His blue eyes were dull. Allie lay in bed next to him. Her eyes were closed, but she looked so rigid and miserable that Lena knew she wasn’t asleep.
Lena began to tremble, which caused the mirror in her hand to shift perspective. Now she could see the rest of their room. The sea chest was sitting on top of their mahogany bureau, and next to it were her sneakers, the shoes she had left on the rocks at Magic’s.
“Oh, no,” she said.
Melusina opened her eyes and saw the mirror in Lena’s hand. “My mirror,” she whispered. For a long moment, she remained frozen, as if carved from marble. A combination of longing and horror came over her face, yet she did not move.
Lena heard her un-Clouded thought: I will remember.
Melusina lifted her eyes and looked steadily at Lena, as if to prolong this last moment between them before she looked upon the visions in the mirror. Then she lowered her gaze to the glass. Her lips parted.
“Brian,” she said.
Chapter 46
A look of such terrible pain swept over her mother’s face that Lena thought she would surely cry out. Instead, the sound of her mother’s voice in Lena’s mind was almost a whisper. “My beloved Brian . . . I remember now . . .”
Melusina’s eyes remained fastened on the mirror, then she said unc ertainly, “Allison?”
Lena put a hand to her mouth. She had forgotten her mother once knew Allie.
Comprehension flooded Melusina’s face, and she backed away from the mirror, putting her hands to her head as if to block out the storm of memories crashing into it.
Lena’s trembling increased as she looked from her grief-stricken mother beside her to her grief-stricken father and stepmother in the depths of the mirror.
Where was Cole? She turned the mirror until it obeyed her wish, and the view moved outside of her parents’ bedroom, down the darkened hall, and into Cole’s room.
Cole’s room was illuminated only by the weak glow from his Raiders night-light. Lena zoomed in on the small form in his bed. Cole was awake. She could see his lips moving and bent her head closer to the mirror, listening.
“By the light . . . of the blueberry moon,” he was singing softly. “We sang this song . . . in Lena’s room . . .”
Lena dropped the mirror, moaning.
Melusina was shaking her head, her long hair floating around her agitated figure. “No . . . oh, no . . . Brian . . .”
She suddenly swept forward to catch the falling mirror, looking into it hungrily. “Who is this child?”
“That’s Cole. My little brother.”
“The child of Brian and Allison?”
Lena nodded.
Melusina looked hard into the mirror, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “He’s beautiful.”
“Yes.”
“What is he saying?” Melusina held the mirror closer. When she heard his words, she looked curiously at Lena. “How does he know that song?”
“I remembered it a while ago. I started singing it to him at bedtime.” Lena could not bring herself to look at Cole’s little face again as he lay alone in bed. She was tempted to put her hands over her ears to block out the sound of his voice. What had her parents told him? Did he think she was coming back? Or did he think she was . . . dead?
When the images faded from the mirror’s surface, Melusina put her hand down, still holding the mirror. Mother and daughter faced each other. They floated in silence for a long moment, neither one speaking, all of their shared and separate memories floating around them.
Kai! thought Lena. Oh, no. And Pem! And—
“You told me that your father didn’t marry again for a long time,” said Melusina.
&
nbsp; “Yes.”
“When?”
“I was nine years old.”
“I see.” Melusina spun in a circle, as if unable to contain her emotions. “I had been lost for five years?”
“Yes.”
“And he married Allison.”
“Yes.”
“I knew her.”
“Yes. I saw a photo of the three of you taken in some restaurant. I forgot about it until just now.”
Melusina continued to spin, agitated. “We were friends. I never thought . . . I never would have guessed—”
Lena waited for her mother to control herself. But Melusina seemed to be spiraling deeper and deeper into her memories of the past, with fresh pain at every turn. Finally she sank down on a bed of seaweed, still holding the comb and the mirror. As if seeking to soothe herself, she began to comb her hair.
Lena moved toward the mouth of the sleeping cave, looking out at the village. Where was everyone? Her mother needed help.
I’ll call Nix, she thought. Then she pictured him working, patrolling the verge . . . and he seemed too far away to call back.
Lena retreated into the cave. She knew she should put her arms around her mother, or say something to try to comfort her, or call for help. But she could not move. As long as she didn’t move, nothing had to change.
So she floated motionless, breathing the seawater, looking at her stunned mermaid mother, hearing her agonized thoughts.
The image of her father’s face came into her mind. She closed her eyes to shut it out, but that only made it stronger. Then the sound of Cole’s voice drifted into her mind again, and she could not shut it out. If she stayed here, Cole would grow up living with the loss of his sister every day. Could she do that to him? He was six, old enough to remember her. And Dad . . . he would have lost not only a wife, but his daughter.
“Mama!” she cried out, like a child waking from a dream.
Melusina jerked out of her inward reverie. “Yes, dear one.”
“I—” Lena covered her eyes with her hand, much like her father when faced with something too difficult.
“What is it, my heart?”
Lena wept, her tears mixing with the ocean. “I have to go back!”
Melusina did not answer. She shook her head, denying Lena’s words. She tried to speak, and failed. She finally pulled Lena close, stroking her hair. “The mirror has saddened you.”
Lena nodded.
“It has saddened me as well. I have the memories back. My heart aches. So much sadness I left behind on land. A loving husband and a child who needed me. I felt this pain when I saw you on the shore, and remembered.” She held Lena tighter. “But hush. We will lose some of the pain in the memory circle. We will ask the villagers for help.”
“But Mama . . .”
“Hush, my dearest,” said Melusina. “You must not think of bidding us farewell. What of Nix? Surely you would not abandon him, as I—” She stopped, stricken.
Lena’s heart shuddered, and for a moment, she wondered if it would start beating again, or if this pain would kill her. Like mother, like daughter. Two generations of women forced to abandon love.
She pressed a hand over the wound in her chest and made her voice firm. “I have to go back.”
Melusina gazed at her in silence for what seemed an eternity, as if storing up new memories of her daughter’s face to last her for the coming absence. Finally she nodded. “I shall not hinder you. I will take you to the surface.”
She swam to the mouth of the cave and paused. “I will inform Amphitrite, so that the village may speed you on your way with a farewell circle. While I am gone, you may speak privately to Nix.”
Lena went to her mother. Was this really happening? Was she just going to leave the world beneath the waves? “No,” she cried.
Melusina waited, her lovely face marred by anguish.
I didn’t have enough time, thought Lena.
Her mother stroked her cheek. “It’s never enough.”
“I don’t want a farewell circle,” said Lena. “I just want to talk to Nix.” She clutched her head. “But I can’t. I can’t! How can I explain to him that I’m leaving? This is unbelievable.”
“Not so very,” said her mermaid mother.
“Will you call him for me? I can’t bear to see anyone else.”
Melusina started to leave, and Lena grabbed her arm. “Wait!” She squeezed her mother’s arm so tightly that Melusina gasped. “I can’t,” she said. “Don’t call him. I can’t do it.”
“Cannot do what?”
Calling upon every ounce of mental strength she had, Lena dropped a curtain over the turmoil of her thoughts. “I won’t be able to leave if I see him,” she said. Hardening her voice, she repeated, “Don’t call him.”
For a long time, Melusina waited in silence, waited for her to change her mind.
But Lena just looked at her with grim determination.
“As you wish,” said her mother, and she pulled her arm away. “Let us go now, before the others awaken. I will explain . . . as best I can . . . once you are gone.” She swam ahead of Lena.
With a wrenching pain, Lena followed.
How long have I been missing from land? she thought. Weeks? Months? Dad and Allie still seem to be in shock. Maybe time is different down here.
Dad.
Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry, thought Lena. I never . . . A surge of relief pounded in her chest. At least he didn’t do something stupid, like dive in after me.
The idea of her father, obeying that cruel command to stay out of the sea, even after his daughter dove into it, caused Lena to stop swimming.
“Wait!” she said.
Melusina halted, a tentative smile touching her lips.
“I have to go back,” said Lena, not wishing to give her mother false hope. “But there’s something I need to do here first.” She turned to look at the village, which was still empty and silent.
Lena swam toward the sleeping caves, entering them one by one until she found her grandparents.
Merrow and Amphitrite lay together on a large bed of seaweed. There was another family sleeping a short distance away.
“Lena?” asked her mother, who had followed her into the cave. “Do you wish to say goodbye to your grandparents?”
“Something like that,” said Lena.
Merrow’s eyes opened at the sound of their voices. His face lit up. “Dearest maids,” he greeted them. “Ah, Selena, you are free of the cloak!”
Amphitrite opened her eyes, and anger darkened her face. She sat up and hissed, “You dare enter this cave, Melusina?”
Lena’s eyes widened.
Melusina cowered. “I beg your pardon, Mother. I accompany Selena, who wishes to speak with you.”
“Let her speak, then. You need not stay.”
Lena’s heart pounded with indignation. Allie has never talked to me that way, she thought. How could a mother speak to her daughter like that? And why didn’t Melusina stick up for herself? A surge of love for Allie came over Lena. I miss her, she thought. I need to tell her I’m sorry.
“I want my mother with me,” said Lena, taking Melusina’s hand. “I’m here to tell you I have to leave the village.”
“But why, child?” asked Merrow, looking distressed.
“I . . . they’re suffering. My family on land.”
Amphitrite frowned. “Your time among the humans was long. Your time here has only just begun, and there are many things for you to learn. I wish you to stay.”
Lena did not move. “Thank you for the invitation. But my parents don’t even know if I’m alive or dead. I have to go back.”
Amphitrite’s eyes became stony. “My daughter is your parent in this world. Do you not care for her feelings? She will be heartbroken. Not to mention the young man you profess to love.”
Lena squeezed her mother’s hand. “My mother understands. And as for Nix—” Here she stumbled over her words. “I . . . I was not free to make promises to him. I
. . . the cloak is cursed! It doesn’t just shelter someone between the worlds, it makes you forget! I didn’t—”
“Enough,” said Amphitrite, her expression dismissive. “The cloak is charmed to protect the wearer. Do you not realize that protection from the torment of memories is part of the charm?”
Melusina and Lena stared, absorbing this idea.
“You are free to go, Selena. Perhaps it is for the best. You are a lovely little creature, but your prolonged presence here would no doubt have led to dissension among our people. Nevertheless, you will be welcome whenever you return.”
“Is that true?” asked Lena.
“Of course,” said Amphitrite, her eyes narrowing. “How dare you doubt my words?”
“But what about the sharks?” she asked.
“Sharks?” All three of them looked at Lena in surprise.
“When will the sharks come for me?”
Melusina gasped.
The sleeping family in the cave had awoken and were listening to the harsh words in dismay. “Come,” said the merman. His wife picked up their small drowsy mermaid, and they swam out of the cave.
“Your words are confused, Selena,” said Amphitrite. “You are in no danger. No shark shall harm you while you are in the company of mer-folk.”
“But Amphitrite, if you would charm the sharks to seek out my father, then you should do the same to me.”
Amphitrite rose from the bed of seaweed and uncoiled her tail to its full length, her light eyes glittering. “You speak of things of which you know nothing, child of Brian.”
“I heard what you said before. When I first arrived. You thought I was sleeping.”
Amphitrite and Merrow exchanged a glance.
“I heard what you said about my father. You said that you would charm the sharks to seek him out if he ever set foot in the ocean again.”
The expression on Amphitrite’s face did not change. She did not speak. But her tail flicked slightly.
“You also told my father, long ago, that if he disobeyed your command, whenever anyone he loved set foot in the ocean, you would destroy them, too.”
Silence.
“He never set foot in the ocean again. Not because he’s afraid of you,” Lena couldn’t help saying defiantly. “But because he didn’t want anything to happen to me, or anyone else he loves.”
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