“Nothing, I like it, I can always tell how you’re feeling. It’s kind of infectious.” I admit, remembering the rush I had felt at her excited and happy tone in the car as we had driven to her home in San Diego.
“Oh. I like how you speak too.” Callie admits and I sigh, relieved inside that I was not coming over pretentious in my, now seemingly old, diction.
We reach the hidden city in a timely manner and Callie turns to me, looking anxious.
“What’s wrong?” I enjoin, completely disarmed by this sudden change in mood.
“I’m scared.” Callie admits, though I had already guessed this would be her response. I move down a little so our eyes are on the same level, I cup her face with my hands trying to appear strong, though I am in knots of fear and terrified I cannot be enough.
“Whatever of?” I query, thinking perhaps underplaying my concern will help her confidence.
“This … life, what if I don’t fit in here?” She asks, looking seriously concerned as I exhale; she is as I forget, still so incredibly human.
“You are … crazy.” I beam, exasperated and using the terminology I had heard pass from her very lips, feeling how it tastes; I enjoy the expressiveness of it, the pure unnecessary nature of so many words for a single phenomenon. I bend down to kiss her, as she relinquishes a tiny smile. “And you’re going to be fine.” I comfort her, wishing she could see herself through my eyes, see her own strength.
“Thanks.” She says timidly, not catching my eye. I wonder if she is still questioning herself inwardly. As we reach the edifice laid down by Atargatis that marks the entrance to the hidden city, I take her hand within my own, examining it. It’s so small and fragile and I cannot help but wonder if she is really as fragile as she appears. As we intertwine our voices they race through a set construct of notes, while giving a passionate and original flare, complimenting each other and rivalling one another in equal proportion as the glimmer of the city rolls away.
The next week is an interesting one, as we both settle into some semblance of a routine. I begin to realise that just when I think Callie can’t challenge or surprise me anymore, she goes and raises the bar. I watch her pouring over copious books in our lounge, hungry for information. I wonder why she doesn’t ask me and then feel slightly grateful as I never quite know how to explain things in a way she accepts. I wonder also if I should take her out into the city, show her the military facilities, the Hydraball stadium, the public library and mermaid Spas, but I’m selfish, I want to keep her to myself for a while in our home. I watch her as I allow my fingers to glide over the strings of my harp, feeling fearful that this hunger for information that drives her into the depths of so many pages, will also lead to her discovery of the prophecy I have tried so hard to keep from her. I sigh, looking at her beautiful face as I pluck the last string; she looks up at me upon the ceasing of the melody and smiles dreamily.
“You play wonderfully.” She compliments and I grin lopsidedly, helpless against her sweetly honest nature.
“Thank you, princess … What are you reading about today?” I question, moving softly through the water toward her and the pile of leather bound books that are strewn across the floor.
“The silent times.” she elaborates and I think back. Remembering them well; I shiver a little.
“Ah yes, it should have been called the ‘hideously cold times’ if you ask me.” I joke, trying to mimic her modern sense of humour.
“Living so far north was a sensible move strategically, to evade human discovery but I can’t imagine it being too warm.” Callie agrees with a soft curve of her lip as her eyes light with a tiny familiar spark, like her soul has connected with mine.
“The city was made of ice you know.” I recall, thinking back to the frozen turrets that encased us for half a century.
“I bet it was beautiful.” Callie places her chin in her palm, lying on her stomach between two piles of books sprawled on the leather sofa. Her tailfin flicks out behind her playfully; I watch her eyes cloud as she imagines the city made of ice that our kind left so long ago.
“It was different … I did not like it.” I admit, smiling at her as she gives a quizzical look, her hair lying in thick tresses down her back. I wish I could run my fingers through it … I do so love the feel of her hair falling through my fingers. “Well I knew I would never find you being stuck there.” I continue, stroking the rough textured hairs that frame her face, calming myself. She nods and then her eyebrows pinch together as a thought occurs; I hold my breath wondering what she will come out with next.
“There is a lot of mention of The Guardians, what are they?” She asks and I exhale slightly, this question I can easily answer.
“They are kind of like our armed forces special unit, I’m a member. Many of the mer you meet are signed up to The Knights of Atargatis, but it requires vigorous training and special skills to become a member of The Guardians. We are the elite. Most knights are involved in fighting on a frequent basis, but it’s become less the last century or so. It would appear the forces of darkness are relinquishing. The actual Guardians unit is very compact and reserved for those with special skills or a talent for fighting.” I watch her face contort slightly into a frown filled with questions.
“Are there more things like what I saw you fighting before?” She asks the questions, and I can see them turning fearful.
“There are all manner of beasts, I couldn’t name them all if I tried, some come from other dimensions of their own will, some are summoned, and some, like The Banished, were made in this very dimension and are almost as humanoid as we are.” I pause and she looks yet more concerned.
“Where do they come from?” She presses me for an answer.
“The ring of fire is what the humans have named it, but we know it’s something bigger than tectonics. The fault lines and trenches, they constitute a break between this dimension and all the others. Creating a kind of hole into our reality. They break through, and it’s our job to stop them.”
“That sounds important. How can I help?” She asks it innocently, so full of good intention, but I feel my soul dying, perishing at the thought of putting her in harm’s way.
“Princess, we’ve already had this conversation, I want you kept out of all of that, I want you to be happy and safe and I want you here for me to come back to.” I express as her expression turns from no longer fearful but to somewhat angry.
“I’m not a housewife.” She snaps bluntly.
“I know that, I’m just saying …” I begin my defence, but she cuts me off.
“Well you clearly don’t know, Orion, I can take care of myself, I don’t need you to be a hero for me, and I’m not some poor weak damsel in distress. If you think I’m going to sit around here doing nothing while you go over and fight the good fight, you’re wrong! I can handle this stuff too!”
“Like you handled it when Daryl attacked you?” I question, knowing the second the words pass from my lips, I would have been better off saying nothing at all. She looks indignantly shocked, her mouth parted in a small ‘o’ and rather than arguing, she is immediately horizontal and moving towards the door.
“Callie!” I say alarmed, not wanting her to leave. I grab her arm, placing my fingers to her temples and focusing on every horrific and ghastly beast that I have ever fought back from the oceans. She gives a tiny inhale of breath, as though in pain, and I realise then that I’ve gone too far.
“Oh my God.” she whispers out, eyes widening, brimming with fear. I reach out to her but she recoils. I’m not sure whether she’s disgusted with me or the demons I just infected her mind with.
“Just don’t!” she replies forcefully, swimming out of the apartment and slamming the door behind her. I place my head in my hands, running my fingers through the knotty tousles, thinking all the while that the reason she won’t let me protect her I will never understand.
CALLIE
I quickly descend through the column of space that allows access to each o
f the floors in the helter-skelter skyscrapers. I feel hot under the skin and nauseated with anger after the argument with Orion and the images in my head. I can’t believe he forced all those vile images into my head and I feel slightly sick at their memory. By the time I reach the hall segment of the vertically arranged building I am fuming. How can he treat me like such a child, I got enough of that kind of treatment from my stepfather, a voice inside me whispers: he’s only concerned for you because he loves you. I shudder remembering the hideous beasts that now swim leisurely through my psyche. I cannot help but be afraid of them; they look so incredibly violent and destructive. I wonder if this gives him the right to control me, before realising I don’t want to be rational at this moment and castigate myself at even stopping to allow this voice into my mind. I burst with force from the front of the building and find myself hitting something fleshy. With surprise, I lose all tension in the muscles that innately keep me suspended above the ocean floor. I eat sand as I crash to the ground and breathe in the disturbed grit, releasing my anger as pain grips at the skin as it is slammed into the rocky seabed.
“Oh my Goddess! Are you okay?!” I hear a soft yet startled female voice asking timidly. I look up from the ground feeling completely embarrassed and eyes so familiar greet me I inhale in surprise.
“Yes … I mean I’m sorry; I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I regain my posture in the water, moving my body so it is parallel to the young mermaid who floats before me. She has eyes that remind me of Kayla’s so deeply that for a moment I thought I was actually seeing my sister. Her tail is the softest lilac and beautiful against her pale, glowing white skin. Her lips are small and rose-petal pink, a similar colour to my own, contrasting to her head of fiery, auburn locks. She looks very self-conscious.
“I’m Sophia Charleston, pleased to meet you.” She holds out a hand and I take it, shaking gently.
“Callie Pierce, it’s a pleasure.” I say formally.
“Oh, so you’re Orion’s?” She enquires and I screw up my eyes, distain flowing through me.
“Uh no, I’m my own.” I’m trying not to sound brash, but I feel a little like I’m losing my identity the longer I live in this society of pairs.
“Oh …” She doesn’t know quite what to follow this up with, so I butt in with a question, feeling my anger return.
“Do you know where I can go to talk to someone about joining ‘The Guardians’?” I question impatiently.
“Well I suppose the person you would have to speak to about that would be Saturnus. He has the direct link to our Goddess, so it’s really him who decides who joins, etcetera.” She rambles and I watch her anxious nature overtake her mental function.
“Can you take me?” I demand, looking into her large hazel eyes and feeling a little guilty at being so curt. They are so like my sister’s.
“Of course, I’d be happy to.” She smiles and I return it graciously. As she turns to lead me to Saturnus, I see a beautifully elegant tattoo on the back of her right shoulder, a sparrow soaring through the air; I admire it momentarily before taking after her, drifting through the water as I dreamily watch her floating before me. She makes her movements look effortless, but unlike Orion, it is not the power that does this but the carefulness with which she holds herself.
“You swim very well.” I comment, catching up to her and wondering if I would ever be as elegant as she in the way I move through the water. We hover a few feet from the ocean floor, horizontally now, and swim through the city together as she turns to me and smiles. The surface-scrapers tower above us, glorious and coloured with jewel colours.
“Thank you, I should, I’ve had a long time to practice.” She looks a little sad as though she is remembering something but I don’t pry.
“So what is Saturnus like?” I question, changing the subject.
“He has truly been blessed by the Goddess.” She replies somewhat mysteriously and I notice that she speaks with a British accent.
“Everyone keeps saying that, it’s like you’re all afraid to tell me how.” I comment feeling frustrated at the lack of communication in this damned place.
“You’ll see when we get there.” Sophia promises, smiling gently. Her hazel brown eyes creasing in the corners with warmth, her voice like soft caramel to my ears.
We arrive at the surface scraper and it looks like any other, made of sandstone, large and cylindrical. As we enter through the doors created from the material I cannot recognise, I see that this building is slightly different, rather than it being stacked with apartments the area behind the doors is a lobby of some kind, the walls stacked with hundreds of books. Leather armchairs are dotted around the circular room and I note that the entrance to the only apartment in the building is about three quarters of the way of the height of the tower, giving a high ceiling for the first room. I look up and Sophia leads me quickly to the open hole in the ceiling of the high room. We are then suspended in front of a large door and I feel nerves spreading through me as I lean forward and knock three times. Sophia and I hold ourselves stationary in silence for a few moments. I flick my tail absentmindedly, admiring the opalescence of the scales in the light, feeling the tension mount. Then in what I can only describe as an instant of clarity, the door opens, revealing the mer, who I can honestly say, has truly been blessed by the Goddess.
His hair is scarlet and deeply feathered around his head, giving the effect of a lion’s mane, and his eyes are a deep emerald; but these things aren’t what stun me. His tail is a radiant gold and is encrusted with diamonds, those on his tailfin are pear shaped giving the effect that it has been collecting water droplets and I wonder if they were once giant tears. His body is covered in tattoos of the finest gold design, reminding me of the floor of the Lunar Sanctum. His body looks as though a vest of cloud, studded with stars, has been drawn in gold pencil upon his chest and a gold crescent moon embraces his Adams apple within its curve. His arms have gold vine and wave designs moving up and down them as though he is encased by nature itself. Finally, my assessment of him deduces his skin and features make him look not only young like all the other mer, but as though no amount of time could ever cause his flesh to wrinkle.
“You must be Callie.” He smiles and his mouth is transformed into a curve as I gape like a tourist at a zoo. As I stare into his face, it is like the clouds on a dreary day have parted and the sun is shining bright before me, I cannot help but smile back as Sophia ushers me forward and closes the door behind me politely, leaving us alone.
“I …” I begin but he holds up a large, strong looking palm.
“I know why you are here, come.” He beckons me further into his apartment, where somehow, even though the furnishings are impressive, they seem to pale in comparison to the merman himself. What I feel when I look upon him goes beyond attraction … it’s as though my mind cannot believe that somebody so full of the essence of life itself exists. Or that perhaps they could not, or should not exist. I wait as he ruffles a few papers on a mahogany desk that stands on an elevated platform at the far end of the room; he has a globe and many more books behind it. I look upwards, following the books and trying to find the ceiling as I crane my neck. I realise that the bookshelves that encase the curved walls of the room extend to the very top of the building, a personal collection of texts that must have taken a lifetime to compile.
“So you want to join ‘The Guardians’, yes?” He looks at me as though giving me permission to speak, which I can’t help but wonder if I require. It’s like I am back at high school, sitting in the principal’s office, although compared to my principal this man is a God. I look down at my hands and inadequacy washes over me. Even breathing in the same room as him seems like some form of blasphemy: he comes over to me, a prophet in flesh.
“Do not look from me. You and I have been blessed by our Goddess. We are kin.” He acknowledges and I nod.
“Yes, I want to join The Guardians. I want to fight.” I say, finding my voice as I drink in the room. Behind hi
m, I see lavish silks and velvets draped from most of the walls shielding away some compartments of the never-ending bookshelves, and many places to sit. If I had to describe it in the way of a human, I would compare it to a grand study from a piece of Edwardian English literature. The finery of it takes my breath away but I still cannot deny it pales next to Saturnus himself.
“And why is it you wish to risk your life for our great people?” He asks with superiority in his voice, anyone else I’d think he was pompous, but it seems a little under exaggerated compared to the superiority he excreted from only existing in the same place as me.
“I want to prove I belong here. I need to show Orion that I am strong.” I admit and he looks disappointed.
“This isn’t the answer I am looking for. Being a part of The Guardians, or for that matter, The Knights of Atargatis, isn’t something you choose out of personal insecurity. It is something you are made for, something you undertake with pride out of love for our Goddess and her mission, something which began in the very making of our race.” His words pierce my heart and I wonder if I really do believe in Atargatis. Then it hits me. Of course I believe in her, just look at the very man before me. I want so much to be in her loving grace, to see this world which she has nurtured. I want to glow with her very essence; I want people to see her magnificence through me, just as I am seeing it through the glorious physicality of Saturnus. I had thought that it was the love I had for Orion that had brought me to this place, and physically, yes, that was probably true. But she had made me, perhaps not my body, but my soul was of her creation, a part of Orion that had been carved out in my image. The mer blood running through my veins was like her mark on me. The body I now inhabit is infused with the very power I see exaggerated by Saturnus. Her power. I also now understand why whenever I had questioned any of the mer about Saturnus, they had been so lacking in descriptions. It was because what you felt in being around him was beyond all words, not something that could be explained, but rather something that had to be felt. I look up at Saturnus mid-epiphany and his expression changes.
The Kiss That Killed Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 1) Page 29