Sea of Secrets Anthology

by J E Feldman

  “I’m not certain. I know he heard my voice. It seemed it was my song that awakened him; but before I had the chance to speak with him, I was forced to return to the waves when another came upon us.”

  “I see,” muses the sea witch, drumming her overly long fingers against the flesh of her pale green cheek. “I believe I can help you.”

  My heart leaps in my chest, flipping about wildly like a fish stranded on dry land. “Could you truly transform me? Make me human?” Memories of my blue-eyed, fair-haired sailor flash before my eyes. I can still imagine the warmth of his sun-kissed skin pressed against my cold body if I close my eyes. He was so beautiful and young, so unlike the burly, scarred and drunken red-faced seamen that so often drowned, out in the open ocean.

  I watched him dance upon the deck of his ship, from the surface, lithe and strong. He had fought the sea valiantly to live, beating back the dark ocean as if it were a living beast to be conquered. When he finally succumbed, and lost consciousness, I saved him. He was too lovely to die, but my father would never understand; he hates humans, though to this day, I don’t know why. He says they are murderers and plunderers…

  “For a price,” says the sea witch, interrupting my reverie. “Everything has a price, precious.”

  “Anything,” I answer. “Name it, and it will be yours! I’d give anything to walk by his side. Then, when I have lived a full and good mortal life, I will have earned a soul; and I will be able to ascend to Heaven, and enjoy paradise, forever.”

  “Are you so sure?” the sea witch croons. “If you forsake the sea, your tail, your gills, your birthright, you would never see your family again; never ride the currents with your ocean friends, or explore the ever deep and its countless treasures.”

  I hold my head high. “I’m certain,” I say with more conviction than I truthfully feel. I had not expected the witch to question my desires. “My eldest sister says before our mother was lost to us, she told my sisters to listen to their hearts, and to follow it always. She said it would never lead them astray. Why should it be any different for me?”

  “I see,” said the sea witch, her voice trailing off. “Your father hasn’t been entirely honest with you, has he, sweetheart?”

  My eyebrows shoot up and I feel my hackles rising. “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Well, forgive my intrusion, but it seems to me the truth of your mother’s disappearance has not yet been revealed to you. I feel that if it had… you would not feel as you do, nor ask what you are asking.”

  I feel my chest inflate with hurt and agitation. “My father still grieves her loss and it pains me to see him suffer. I have never desired to pry, or forced him to recall the manner of her death. It is enough I know she is gone.”

  “Is it?” asks the sea witch. “Were it me, I would not be so quick to dismiss the opportunity to learn the truth, child, as unpleasant as it may be. Your father has good reason for hating the humans…”

  I take the bait, like a silver bream lunging at a gleaming fisherman’s hook. I can’t not. “Are you implying they had something to do with my mother’s death?” The words feel hot and thick leaving my lips, like they were never meant to be spoken. I already know in my heart what I have done; I am opening a wound that can never be closed, never be healed.

  “I’m saying they were instrumental, Morluna,” responds the sea witch.

  “Tell me, then,” I demand with more courage than I feel. “If there are secrets being kept from me, I must know.”

  The sea witch swims ahead of me, deeper into the gloom. “Follow me, precious,” she calls back.

  Letting my breath out in a slightly exasperated sigh, I swim after her. The further into her abode we venture, the more is revealed. I stare in awe as shimmering, luminescent crystals light the way, vivid pinks, lilacs and cerulean blues.

  “They’re beautiful,” I whisper to myself.

  I can almost hear the smile in her voice as the sea witch sings back, “All the better to lure you with, my dear. Beauty has a way of dampening the senses.”

  I laugh nervously.

  The sea witch’s cave opens into a single magnificent chamber and I turn in circles, trying to drink it all in. Treasures that outshine the organic beauty of Neptune’s colourful kingdom glitter from, and in, every available crevice. I recognise some of them, mortal treasures salvaged from sunken ships. Ornate golden candelabras hang from the cavern above, piles of jewelry and the precious gems of the land spill over in piles that sparkle upon the floor. Coats of armour, wind-up music boxes, trunks of tarnished golden coins, and strings of polished pearl decorate the cave walls. While even tapestries of great mortal houses waft in the gentle current, adorning her home at the bottom of the sea.

  The sea witch twirls before an immense black iron cauldron, arms outspread. “Do you like what you see, princess?” she asks.

  I am speechless. “It’s incredible,” I say. “How did you come by such treasures? It would take a mermaid a lifetime to forage and collect so much!”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the whispers in the night, Morluna? It is true what they say, I alone can command the drowned dead. If the sorry souls of the lost want to find peace, they must first find, and bring me a token of worth; for all things have a price.”

  My stomach turns as I imagine a fleshy, skeletal army marching the depths of the ocean, burdened with the wealth of the land above, merely so they might move on and be at rest. I shake my head to clear the image.

  “We were discussing my mother,” I prompt, trying to steer the conversation, like a wayward ship to port.

  “You are determined and single-minded, I like that,” says the sea witch. “It will serve you well,” she says cryptically. The sea witch then reaches into a large conch shell and drops whatever lays within, into the cauldron. With a whispered word, green flames, seemingly immune to the water around it, snake to life, burning brightly beneath the great black vessel. The sea witch reads my expression with ease. “This is just the beginning, princess,” she warns. “We need not discuss your mother’s fate. I can show you.”

  I feel my breath catch in my throat and swim closer. “How?”

  “Magic, my dear. I am a seer and a diviner of fates. I can relive any moment in time, on a whim. Past, present, future. Nothing is safe from my curious gaze.”

  “Then show me how my mother died.”

  “Are you certain? What you are about to witness cannot be unseen. It may haunt you all the days of your life. It may even haunt you forever.”

  I lift my chin and meet her eye. “It doesn’t matter how much it hurts or for how long, the truth will be worth the pain. I am almost grown. I can handle it.”

  “Very well,” says the sea witch. “Look within,” she gestures. “And all the answers you seek, shall be revealed to you.”

  Grasping the edge of the ancient cauldron, I lean nearer, looking directly into the swirling, violet potion. At first, all I can see is the strange, inky fluid as it stirs and bubbles, alive with dark magic.

  The sea witch passes her hand over the cauldron, whispering all the while. I squint my eyes as the fluid changes. From its center, it begins to sparkle and turn clear, pushing the darkness to the outer edges of the cauldron. I watch, mesmerized. Then I see movement. Shapeless, shifting images I can’t quite determine. Moments pass and they grow in clarity, until I am staring, wide-eyed at the image of my beautiful, young mother. I tear my gaze away to look at the sea witch in awe, tears immediately springing to my eyes. She smiles darkly.

  “Go on,” she urges. “Knowledge is power. Embrace it.”

  I could not have guessed that seeing her for the first time in my life, would elicit such an emotional response from me. She is beautiful and looks just like me. Swallowing the rising lump in my throat I turn my longing, tear-pricked eyes back to the cauldron, and my mother.

  Queen Salacia sits quietly upon a secluded beach, hidden away in a peaceful alcove, far from the frequented port of Rome. Her blue-black hair shines in
the dying light of the day, the many jewels and trinkets of the deep that adorn her long tresses, sparkling.

  “Salacia, my love,” comes an unfamiliar voice. A handsome and tall, middle-aged human sits beside her. Putting his arm around her, she rests her head upon his shoulder. For a time, they sit in silence, seemingly at peace upon the wet sand, watching the sun’s slow descent beneath the waves.

  “Julius,” Salacia begins, when the silence was finally broken. “There is something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  “Speak, my beautiful queen. You need not hide anything from me,” he assures her, looking into her cerulean blue eyes.

  The queen of Atlantis takes a deep breath and smiles meekly, her fingers nervously clinging to the emperor’s. “Julius, I’m with child.”

  The emperor sits mute for a moment, before responding. “Is it his, Neptune’s?”

  As if she had been holding them back, a well of tears spring forth and Salacia weeps. “No, Caesar, no. I have counted the moons since our first union… the child is yours.”

  Julius untangles himself and rises to his feet, his fingers raking his short cropped fair hair. He began to pace.

  “My love?” queries Salacia. “Is this not a blessing?”

  Julius stops to meet her eye. “I,” he starts. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  Salacia smiles, as if relieved. “I know this is… unexpected. Truth be told, I did not think this was possible, myself. But, by the hand of God, it has. A little life, part of you, and part of me, now grows within my womb.”

  The Caesar licks his lips. “Forgive me,” he says. “It is joyous news; being that mine and Cleopatra’s marriage cannot be recognised in Rome, beyond that of a union of States, I had not thought I would ever be a father.”

  “I understand,” says Salacia softly. “It has come as a great surprise to me, also. In truth, I don’t know what to do, or what a child of our union will be like. Will she have land legs, or a tail? Will she be able to breathe beneath the waves? I can only wonder. What I do know,” she went on, reaching out for her lover, “is that no matter what comes, we will have each other, and this child will be loved.”

  “She? We’re having a daughter? Are you certain?” asks Julius, taking her extended hand and sitting down beside her once more.

  The queen smiles broadly. “I am,” she says, genuine happiness in her eyes, as her free hand comes to rest upon her still flat belly. “It is a gift belonging to the mothers of our kind, that we can sense the small life growing inside. It feels different, to carry a male, I am told- though, I would not know, myself. This will be my seventh daughter.”

  Julius’ lips are pursed. “You may not know this well, but here, among my people, it is men who rule and command nations. It is sons, that fathers long for.”

  Salacia frowns, perplexed by his revelation. “You see females of your own kind… as being less?”

  Caesar pets her hand. “It is just our way. It always has been. Women make good wives; they cook, they clean, they make textiles and raise our sons, they even till the fields. They serve their rightful purpose, as men serve theirs. We each have our place.”

  Salacia gently pulls her hand away. “That is not the way of the merpeople,” she says. “Our females are equal in status to our males. We have mermaid rulers, warriors, hunters, and scholars. If anything at all, it is our female kind who are revered, for it is we that bring forth the life that continues our kind.”

  “Perhaps our worlds are indeed too far removed to ever exist side by side,” says the emperor nonchalantly.

  “What are you saying?” asks Salacia, a wounded expression upon her face. “Our worlds are different, but there is beauty in that. Is it not worth fighting for? Are we not worth fighting for?” she emphasises, her eyes searching his.

  Julius sighs, as if exasperated. “I don’t know,” he says simply, betraying very little emotion. “This complicates things.”

  The queen stares at him, aghast. “Complicates? My life, or yours?” she accuses. “It is I that must return to my kingdom, a half-mortal child in my womb; a child that is not my husband’s. There is no complication for you! You can walk away on your two good legs and pretend you never laid eyes upon me. I can fade into memory, nothing more than a creature of myth and legend. For me, this is real, and it can’t be undone.”

  Salacia retreats to the darkening waves, before surfacing once more to speak to the ruler of Rome, the man she now felt foolish for falling in love with. “When you have had time to think on your words, I will return with our daughter. Perhaps then, you will see the error of your ways, and realise what holds true value in this life!”

  As the queen disappears into the depths, Julius Caesar stands, his expression stern and unreadable.

  “I very much doubt that,” he says, watching after her for a time, before turning his back on the sea.

  The visions of the past fade and I stare blankly at the cauldron, before my eyes eventually find that of the sea witch. I can’t even begin to fathom what I’ve just borne witness to. My mother, the Queen of Atlantis, was unfaithful to our king… with a human! And, the merman who raised me… I feel my breath quickening and the world starts to spin. I let myself flounder to the jewel and coin laden floor, the palms of my hands pressed into my eyes.

  “Neptune isn’t my father,” I whisper. “I’m not the king’s daughter.”

  “No,” says the sea witch from behind the cauldron, her finned elbows resting upon its coral encrusted rim. “You are not,” she confirms.

  I push my hands up over my face and run my fingers through my long hair. “I’m- I’m not even a full-blooded mermaid! I’m a, I’m a… I don’t even know the word for what I am!”

  “You are a unique hybrid, my dear. Part merfolk, part human. You are the daughter of an emperor of Rome. He is a powerful man with an extensive and vast empire, as far as mortal conquests are concerned.”

  “A hybrid,” I say, rolling the word around in my mouth. “I’m not all mermaid,” I go on. “I’m part human and my mother’s seventh daughter!” I say, excitement filling me.

  “Again, correct, princess,” drawls the sea witch, as if I’ve drawn an obvious conclusion. Her large, black eyes blink eerily in unison, regarding me.

  I shiver. I can see my reflection in their depths from where I lie. “Does this mean…” I can scarcely bring myself to utter the words, to give them form. “Do I-,” I stumble. I take a deep breath and exhale to centre myself and calm my racing heart. “Do I possess a soul?”

  The sea witch grins, gill to gill, her rows of impossibly sharp teeth glinting in the natural shimmering light of the crystal stalactites and stalagmites. “I am only a witch, a humble seer and diviner of the Fates, but, yes, child. It is my understanding you are the first mermaid that has ever lived beneath the Seven Seas to be born with a soul. A gift, from your father; the result of your mother’s love for him.”

  My mind reels. “I don’t need to give myself to a man,” I say in wonder. “I have my own soul, I have no need of a mortal’s love!” I rise, swishing back and forth through the water. “You were speaking truthfully,” I say. “Now I have been made aware of the past, I no longer desire what I had originally come here for!” I feel, despite the trauma of learning my mother’s indiscretions, relief flood through me, and spread to fill every fibre of my being. “I’m going to live forever!” I sing. “I’m immortal! And I don’t have to leave the sea, or give up my family, or-”

  The sea witch interjects, cutting me off with a cluck of her tongue. “Indeed, you no longer need my aid in attaining a soul, darling girl; but there is more to learn which may yet influence you, and further determine your fate. There is the matter of your mother’s doom. Will you gaze into the cauldron once more, and see what unfolded all those years ago?”

  My feelings of elation die a swift and sudden death, my mood crushed. I am sobered, instantly. She’s right. There is more to this absurd and twisted series of events. I have learned one tru
th, but there is more to know, and I won’t be kept in the dark a moment longer than I have already been.

  “I will,” I say, flipping back to the cauldron opposite the sea witch. “I’m ready. Show me.”

  “Prepare yourself,” says the sea witch cryptically.

  Queen Salacia sits upon a large, half exposed rock at sea, not far from the quiet, rocky alcove she and Julius have met in secret. In her arms, she cradles and nurses a small bundle, singing to her softly. A glittering infant tail covered in beautiful amethyst scales, lies over her arm; the fins reflexively curling and uncurling in dream-filled, peaceful slumber.

  Smiling down upon the baby, she whispers; “I love you, Morluna, my precious, dark moon. I have brought you to meet your true father. You are perfect, my darling. I hope with all my heart, that he loves you as much as I.”

  Then, with the most beloved voice of the Seven Seas, she begins to sing her siren song aloud, calling out to Julius with a haunting wordless, melody. As expected, it isn’t long before Caesar arrives, his personal statement piece, the crown of laurel leaves upon his head. He comes to stand upon the shore, the sea lapping at his golden sandals.

  Salacia draws in a deep breath and slides carefully into the waves, swimming with her precious burden toward the beach. “Hello,” she says, waist-deep in the shallows. “Would you like to see our daughter? Her name is Morluna.”

  Julius wades into the surf, his white toga and crimson sash instantly saturated. He looks down on his child and smiles. “She’s so small,” he says, running his hand over her still soft scales. “And she looks just like you.”

  “Thank you,” says Salacia, her long midnight blue hair shining in the fading light of the day. “Would you like to hold her?” she asks.

  “I’m afraid I’ve never held a child before, let alone, a merbabe,” he says.

  “It’ll come naturally,” the queen assures him. “Here,” she says, as she assists him in cradling the little one in a secure, comforting position. “Do you feel it?” she asks. “The bond between father and child? She shares your blood and your strength, Julius.”