Rise of the Sea Witch

by Stacey Rourke

  “When do you leave?” I asked after a beat, chewing at the inside of my cheek.

  Eyes, the inviting shade of an early twilight, searched my face for … something. “You’ve got me for two more days.”

  “That doesn’t give us much time,” I mused, drumming my forefinger against the point of my chin.

  “Time for what?” he asked, his eyes darkening.

  My gaze swept over him, taking in every inch of his lanky frame. “For us to do something monumentally stupid.”

  Swishing in close enough for the warm current of his breath to tickle over my cheek, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, “I like where this going. What did you have in mind?”

  Raising my shoulders to my ears, I chirped in a giddy titter, “I want to walk on land!”

  Punctured by my non-amorous intent, he shrunk back.

  “That’s … not where I thought this was headed,” Alastor muttered to himself, before feigning enthusiasm for my benefit. “Can your magic do that?”

  “I don’t know … yes? Maybe? My mother could do it. I’m hoping it’s hereditary. Let’s find out.” I knew I was rambling, yet couldn’t seem to stop.

  Linking my fingers with his, I didn’t give him a chance to argue. One thought of shallow, turquoise waters and the ursela shell warmed against my chest. Holding tight to Alastor, the two of us dissipated in a rolling emerald cloud.

  “Beluga, sevruga, come winds of the Caspian Sea!” Arms thrown out wide, I tipped my head back and bellowed each word toward the sky.

  “Is that necessary?” Alastor’s head snapped one way then the other, anticipating some sort of magical strike.

  Arms slapping to my sides, my shoulders sagged.

  No magic manifested in glowing tendrils that licked and coiled around me.

  No sparks brightened the sea to a radiant turquois.

  Nothing. Again.

  “Apparently not.” Running out of ideas, my lips screwed to the side. I tried every spell, tonic, and glamour Amphrite taught me. Still, no success. I couldn’t form one human toe, much less a set of legs.

  “It’s okay,” Alastor assured me, his knuckle dragging up and down my arm, “you tried your best. Maybe it just can’t—”

  “Mother!”

  Pulling his chin back, Alastor’s forehead puckered. “As nicknames go, that one is not my favorite.”

  “Not you … I’m trying to … never mind.” Batting the conversation away with a flick of my wrist, I gave a tap to the magical wall in my mind that had kept all my disturbing visions at bay. It crumbled with ease. The rubble built itself back up, bit by bit, into the form of my mother.

  Arms crossed, putrefied lips pinched, and fin tapping, she glared my way in annoyance. “Well, well, well, look who has finally decided she needs her mother.”

  Filling my gills, I exhaled in an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, but you have to admit your presence is a bit off-putting.”

  “What?” Alastor cried, his hands raised, palms out.

  “Not you,” I clarified.

  “You can see my confusion, us being alone and all.”

  “We’re not, my mother is here.” I gestured to where she hovered, which to him was a space occupied by three fluttering minnows. “She’s going to help me make the spell work.”

  “Oh, am I?” Mother mocked, flipping her patchy hair. “Is that why I’ve been summoned like a lowly handmaiden?”

  Chin falling to my chest, I shook my head before forcing a smile into place and trying again, “You weren’t summoned. I asked you here because of your vast wisdom and talent.”

  One shoulder, rotted clear to the bone, lifted coquettishly. “I do like the sound of that. What spell are you attempting?”

  “I want human legs, to allow me to walk on land like you did.”

  One eyebrow hitched as if finding the matter beneath her. “That’s simple enough, how did you get rid of me?”

  “For the love of Mother Ocean!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “I said I was sorry! Harping on it isn’t helping anyone!”

  Forefinger pressed to his lips, Alastor contemplated me through narrowed eyes. “It was smart to wait until I was emotionally invested before letting me see this side of your crazy.”

  “No, Vanessa, think,” Mother corrected, in her ghoulish rasp. “How did you make me vanish?”

  “I … simply willed it.”

  “There you go.” A sly smile creeping across her face, Mother vanished. This time, of her own accord.

  “It can’t be that easy,” I scoffed, looking to Alastor as if he had even the slightest clue what was happening.

  “Mm-hmm,” he offered, quite literally at a loss for words in the face of my madness.

  “However, it is the only option I haven’t tried …”

  “I feel like little more than a prop in this scene,” Alastor mused, fingers drumming against his chin.

  Taking a brief pause to offer him a sympathetic grimace, I then closed my eyes and gave asserting my will a half-hearted try.

  Trusting instinct over training proved to be the key ingredient. Quick as a blink, a wall of green grew from ocean floor to encompass me. The magical cocoon of my creation severed my comforting tie to Alastor. In stifling solitude my body was ravaged. Convulsions rocked through me, their bone rattling force causing my teeth to sink into my tongue. Gagging at the rush of coppery warmth that spurted in my mouth, I tried to relax my body in the face of a change never meant for it. Scales peeled away, revealing tender flesh beneath that took to the ocean’s chill like a million tiny daggers ground deep. Jaw swinging slack, a muffled scream of bubbles tore from my chest. A rough, spastic roll of my hips split my tail into two. Newly formed human legs kicked and flailed, instilling a fresh rash of panic at my inability to keep myself afloat.

  Job complete, the curtain of magic parted, allowing Alastor his first glimpse of my transformation. I had hoped to treat myself to an eyeful of his shocked reaction. Unfortunately, I gulped down a lungful of water and, for the first time, felt it burn down my esophagus. Eyes bulging, I grabbed my throat in desperation and need of air.

  “Oh, this is brilliant,” Alastor grumbled with a shake of his head and darted for me. Hooking one arm around my waist, he flapped for the surface with all the speed his tail allowed.

  Vision blurring, I gazed up at the daylight that shimmered through the water, taunting me with the promise of salvation.

  “While we have a second,” Alastor’s frustration became evident in the firm set of his jaw, “maybe the next time you attempt this spell, you do it closer to shore!”

  Coughing and gagging, I took in another lungful of water. Black dots danced before my eyes, the dark abyss of unconsciousness threatening to consume me.

  Now, if memory serves, not all of you were merfolk before joining the ranks of my little garden. I believe there to be one or two pirate scoundrels within your midst. For those of you that don’t know, mer breathe primarily through the gills along our rib cages. However, our kind do enjoy lounging on rocks to bask in the sun from time to time. Tiny little lung sacs allow for these little jaunts. They only grant about ten minutes of air time, but this little biology lesson is crucial for what came next. Are we all caught up? Fantastic. Now where was I?

  Just as I began the descent into darkness’s sweet embrace, Alastor pressed his lips to mine and breathed a lungful of air into my mouth. My first kiss. His kiss, breathing life into me. Eagerly gulping it in, I weaved my fingers into his hair and clung to my own exquisite lifeline. The hard-drawn line of our friendship had finally been crossed in the most enticing of ways. Melting into him, I lost all desire to ever revert back to what we had been. Inhaling my way to a clear head, I reveled in his touch combined with the soft caress of the sun’s rays as we ventured higher.

  Breaking the surface in a dramatic spray, Alastor pulled away long enough for a brief inspection. Assured I was at least conscious, he pressed his forehead to mine. His hands lingered at my hips t
o keep me afloat.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sinking farther in to the sea to allow water to move over his gills.

  Eyes tearing, I coughed up mouthfuls of ocean in a series of unattractive heaves.

  “The term shallow water …” I panted, “… means something very different ... for humans and mer.”

  Bobbing with the surf, Alastor cast his gaze to the ships barricading the shoreline. “Just beyond that fleet is the actual shallow water. I should thank you for not transporting us there. One glimpse of my tail and they would have had me on skewers over a spit.”

  “What a barbaric visual.” I cringed, curling my hands around his forearms for added support.

  “Those are the people you are about to walk amongst. You need to know what to expect.” Droplets of water decorated his impossibly long lashes, falling away with each blink. “We know you can’t swim over there, evidence of that can’t be contested. Fortunately, you have the nifty little talent to poof yourself over there. Get yourself within walking distance and you can stroll from the sea like you belong there.”

  “A quick stroll on unsteady legs. What’s the worst that can happen?” My attempt at a cavalier laugh came out closer to an uneasy cackle.

  “Nessa …” Voice dropping to throaty murmur, Alastor snaked one arm around my waist. Pinning me to him, his free hand caught my chin and tipped my face to his. “I hate that I can’t go with you. There are so many unknowns regarding this fool’s errand. The most crucial of which is how long you can maintain this glamour. Please, is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

  A mermaid, intricately carved into the hull of the largest in the line of the ships, caught my gaze. The irony of it wasn’t wasted on me. The humans appreciated our beauty enough for decoration, yet sought to destroy our kind. “If you were here with Triton, you could have distracted him with a shiny object or barking seal pup. It seems for your desired objective you’re traveling with the wrong royal.”

  “If I was traveling with Triton, I would’ve dragged him to the surface by the scruff of his neck instead of pressing my lips to his,” he crooned against my ear.

  “Are you sure?” I spoke the words merely as a distraction from the pit of fear burrowing into my gut. “You’d be the envy of practically every mermaid in Atlantica with him on your arm.”

  “Don’t do this,” Alastor pled, refusing to play along.

  Turning my face to his, I dove into the molasses pools of his concerned gaze. The tips of my fingers swept over his cheeks, my palms settling over the stubble of his jawline. “I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

  Bolstered by the risk of death, I lurched forward to brush an awkward kiss to his lower lip. Before he could react, I was gone in a cloud of smoke.

  Chapter Fifteen

  W ater dripped from the modest garment I conjured for myself: a simple sheath dress that brushed the tops of my newly acquired feet with each step. Everything was so heavy in the human world! It was as if the air itself pushed back with a stifling hand in my venture from the sea.

  “Avast! Movement! We’ve got movement!” a voice from one of the ships shouted.

  Swords hissed from sheaths.

  Rifles cocked.

  Cannons swung my way.

  Fingers wriggling in preparation of the barrage of energy balls I was prepared to unleash, my efforts were defused by a collective groan from the cluster of sailors above.

  “Are ya daft, girl?” a gruff voice bellowed. “There are bein’s in these waters that would wear your skin for garters! Git ye’self tah shore!”

  Ducking my head, in fear they would see the guilty blush filling my cheeks, I forced my leaden legs forward and splashed from the comforts of the sea. Panting at the effort, I stood dripping on the sandy shore. Casting my stare down one side of the beach and then the other, I studied this glimpse of a part of my ancestry I never before considered. Humans were so … busy. A cluster of chattering women scrubbed clothes on the shore bank. Men covered in a sheen of sweat pulled in nets full of flapping fish. Chubby-faced children ran and played in the sand.

  Shimmering red fabric, softer and more supple than anything I had ever had the pleasure to touch, snapped and twirled around me. “The pretty lady needs a pretty new dress!” a man with giant teeth, and equally sizable gums said in a singsong voice.

  “No, thank you,” I answered … and took my first steps on dry land.

  Wet sand squished between my toes, tickling the tender flesh. Shoulders raising to my ears, I tittered a nervous giggle.

  Finding their world blindingly bright, I shielded my eyes with the crook of my arm and squinted at the jarringly crisp colors. The white sand beach drew up a steep embankment. Atop its peak sat giant, stone structures that soared skyward, reaching heights which seemed to brush the puffy, white clouds drifting above. Each and every home on that hilltop appeared as regal as a castle. Did they all think themselves royalty?

  Inhaling deeply, I filled my lungs with the fragrant scent of flowers wafting in on the breeze.

  A soft tugging at the hem of my drab gray skirt drew my gaze down. A child gazed up at me with moon eyes and the face of an angel. Extending one chubby hand, she offered me a white-pedaled flower with a brilliant yellow center.

  “To put in your hair,” she explained, tilting her head to display a matching flower tucked into her own flaxen waves.

  “Th-thank you,” I stammered. At her expectant stare, I hesitantly obliged and situated the stem behind my ear.

  Beaming up at me, deep dimples dipped into both her round little cheeks.

  “Flora! Come now, darling!” a lovely woman, who appeared to be an older version of my new friend, called out. She welcomed the child to her side with a smile and loving hug.

  I expected to find monsters trudging on these shores. Or soldiers patrolling the beach with weapons poised and ready. Instead, I found families, caring and love. Despite my better judgment, I allowed my gaze to flick over the faces of the men milling about, searching each one for some sign of similarity. If my birth father wandered past, would I even know?

  Shaking myself from that frustrating riddle, I meandered farther down the beach. A short walk—during which a hardy breeze dried my hair—later, and the crowds died away. The only sounds to be heard were cawing seagulls and thunderous waves crashing against the shoreline.

  Suddenly, a realization made my heart lurch in an eager stutter-beat.

  Casting my stare over my shoulder, hair lashed against my face. There were no soldiers on shore. Not even one passed on patrol. Chewing on my lower lip, I calculated the implications of such news. Slowly, a smile curled across my face. The people of Lemuria armed themselves against us by guarding the water well. Beyond that … they were exposed and vulnerable.

  Chapter Sixteen

  T ail working side to side in a blur, my hair tossed out wild behind me. “We can use this! I can use this! I don’t know how yet … I’m too excited to focus on the details! Even so, I know we have something here!”

  Alastor kept pace with me, silent as the dead—to everyone without my curse. The moment I returned from topside he sought to inspect me tip to tail. I batted him away and swam off, blathering on about my findings. Now, in typical merlad fashion, he was pouting.

  My excitement couldn’t be tarnished by his sulking, not with the castle’s silhouette cresting on the horizon. “I have the magic. We saw that. I just have to find a way to amplify it. It would be fantastic if I could ask Amphrite for help, but she’s still in her phase of cursing my name and spitting on my fins whenever I’m within range. Is there anything such as a ‘sorry you blame me for the death of your husband’ token of apolog— Whoa!”

  My relentless blathering was cut off when Alastor snagged my elbow and whirled me to an abrupt stop. Slamming my back against the side of the industrial tower that marked the edge of the Indian Sea District of the square, he silenced me with one finger pressed to his lips.

  “Caribbean mer,” he whispered
in warning, and jerked his head for me to look.

  Hands gripping the edge of the tower’s stone fascia, I peered around the corner.

  Upon sweeping glance, everything appeared normal. Closer inspection revealed that the residents of Atlantica’s normally blended, intermingling society had schooled to the safety of their represented sea zones surrounding the square. All bustled about, pretending to be busy, while watching Caribbean soldiers floating through the square in tight military patrols. Weaving through them—her head held high and amber gaze fixed on the castle—swam Calypso. Even at that distance I could feel the raw determination radiating off of her.

  Parents scooped up their children and ushered them inside. Pacific mer planted themselves in defensive positions that dared an attack. Their numbers swelled by the minute, more of their ink and self-mutilated kind swimming in eager anticipation of the promise of violence. Members of the Royal Guard, stationed at the castle entrance, tightened their formation and readjusted their grips on their weapons. Curtain doors fluttered shut. Stone shutters slammed. Atlantica battened down the hatches for the brewing storm sizzling in the air. Civil unease threatened to blow down what was left of our crumbling kingdom.

  “We need to get to Triton, now,” I stated through clenched teeth, “His throne is in jeopardy, and I just might be the weapon to save it.”

  “Guards!” Doralious thundered, descending the pillar-lined incline that led to palace entrance. “The castle is under lockdown. Do not allow them, or anyone else, access!”

  “M-more than we already are?” the soldier directly in front of me stammered, shifting under the weight of my glare.

  “The fate of our kingdom lies in their hands,” I muttered to Alastor out of the corner of my mouth. “All of Atlantica should be nervous.”

  “Military was mobilized without authorization from the king,” Doralious explained. Swimming behind his blockade, he positioned himself at the head of the line to lord over his men. “We have no choice but to consider it a potential threat. One anyone could be linked to. Until further notice, no one gets passed.”