Fins 4 Ur Sins

by Naomi Fraser

  “Mainstream media, gotta love it,” Ralph says with a bark of laughter.

  “Not particularly.” I avoid Lakyn’s penetrating stare. “If too many people know—it’ll make it harder for me to hide my tail. They’ll be watching me wherever I go. That could be a good thing in case sirens get me, but I doubt it.” I glance up from my feet. “Not with news cameras watching my every move, ready to broadcast them to the world.” My hands shake and I squeeze my fingers. “But what do you both mean when you say something big travelled through? What could be that big? And what is with this pulse you mentioned?”

  Lakyn places the spear gun on his back and suits up with so many razor sharp weapons the pit of my stomach somersaults. Spear gun, knife, some type of telescopic spear and a packet of long, thin metal darts inside a satchel against his chest. Another gun-like weapon on his back sits next to the longer spears. Right. He was one of the guardians of the sea. I have to remember that. This is normal for him.

  My stomach feels full of those sharp objects. The bottom is the top and the outside is inside. Everything changes.

  I have to change with it.

  “I know I have to tell you more. I feel I should protect you from what could happen,” Lakyn says deeply and turns around. “There are magnetic forces in this world that you can manipulate to achieve different things. When we came through to this world originally, we were hunted, and we hunted humans. There were too many deaths. The rules changed and we went back to how things were. In the old tales, mermaids or mermen would appear, almost magically, cause a ship to wreck and gain its treasure. Or sirens would seduce men who were too willing to crash their ship onto the rocks. Why do you think there are no more sightings? We all had to return to our world. But now something big travelled through to this one and the energy changed long enough for me to feel it. All of the other finfolk here would’ve felt it, too. That’s what worries me. They’re not hiding anymore.”

  “The sirens?” Curious if this could be a way to get information—proof so Lakyn can get back his fins, I ask, “Is it a doorway, a vortex, a certain part of the sea?” I near him on the sand, our bodies inches apart. This close my heart thunders like I’ve done a two-hundred metre sprint. His height shadows the dying sun.

  “It’s a vibration. A hologram that dissolves and reshapes itself. Something you think exists but can’t prove because it isn’t of this realm. Once you’ve felt it, you’ll never be the same. Finfolk shift so their bodies meet the requirements of this dimension, and they use magic to do it. It’s possible for finfok to retain their tails while they’re here, but it becomes uncomfortable after a while. We are sensitive—we rely on underwater vibration. Not just anyone is allowed to shift through dimensions anymore. The council has protocols and uses magic to stop us.”

  “So to get to this underwater world—” I study his face “—theoretically, I’d need to shift, change vibration? How?”

  “Magic. Finfolk magic. There are places that are easier than others. Sometimes it can happen on land, depending on who is in control of the magic. It’s also a conscious thing, something that happens when you have finfolk running through your veins. And, you have to break through the magic wall. You can try, but you will be blocked. You also need to know . . . before it is too late, the longer you spend in the water, the more mermaid you’ll become. Stay mermaid long enough in this world and it will probably kill you,” Lakyn says.

  “I’ll be a mermaid permanently and then die?”

  “Only if you stay in this world,” he asserts. “The vibration will mess with your body until nothing works.”

  “It’s one of the strongest parts of the legends,” Ralph says behind me, and his tone offers no comfort at all. “The longer you stay in that form, the more your energy aligns to it. The same is true for being human. The pulse was large, and if it’s sirens, that means a whole lot came through.”

  “You could always practice your techniques in the school’s pool, but people would see you,” Lakyn adds.

  “Oh.” Wind picks up my hair, and I can’t hide the crushing despair in my voice. The sand glints white from the sun’s reflection, and the soft smell of salt sweeps over me as I look at him. “You’ll lose who you truly are then.”

  He clasps my hand and grins. “Never. That will never happen. Who you see is who I am, finfolk or human. I’m more myself right now than I’ve ever been.”

  His fingers twist around my hand, making me hyper-aware of his touch. My knees grow loose and hot. I swallow and look out to the sea where wind shears the surface of the waves. The weight of his sacrifice challenges everything I believe about the world. He gave me back my life. Now, what will I do with it?

  He tugs me closer to the breakers, and I stop at the edge of the water, the foamy, white line touching my toes. “Today I’m going to show you how to shoot underwater. My father was the best marksman in the king’s guard. He taught me what I know.”

  The whitewash kicks up over the rocks and sounds a lot like a washing machine. I take in a deep breath and clench my left hand into a fist.

  “Nervous?” Lakyn gives me side glance.

  “Maybe,” I admit with a laugh.

  “You’ll be fine. You’ll change. Expect that, but I’ll be there for you. We have towels to dry you off, and you don’t need to be back at your place until later on. This is your chance to learn how to protect yourself when you have a tail. I’ll show you as much as I can before anything happens . . . to me,” he finishes quietly.

  I frown at the idea he’s expecting something bad, but I nod and walk into the water, the silky coolness circling my ankles. Foamy, white fingers crawl up the rocks and drip down again. The sun shines on my upturned face, and we leave the perfect beach of the cove. Lakyn has taken us to a place I’d never seen before, but Ralph knows all the best spots.

  I’m up to my chest in the cool seawater, and about to go under when Lakyn urges, “Take the jump, Ellie.” His bright blue gaze clashes into mine. “You breathe fine underwater.”

  I push off from the sand, enjoying the water rippling around my body, but Lakyn’s hand surrounds mine, and he drags me faster through the shallows. Finally, we’re so deep, large fish swim past and I no longer see the sandy bottom. My feet dangle below me. I move my legs rhythmically to stay afloat, then burst free to the surface. But I can breathe underwater, if I try. I have to change, allow it to happen and my chest squeezes at the thought. I need to believe I can do this, but a moment to shift, to change, might mean a lifetime of being someone new.

  Lakyn grabs me by the shoulders and his expression grows serious, obviously reading the indecision in my eyes. “Ellie? Don’t panic. Show me what I taught you last time.”

  I pant, pushing water out of my lips and brushing the fringe back from my eyes. “It saved me. That move you showed me saved my life,” I say simply. “I was on my way to the surface with it after I got the siren off my leg.”

  “Show me one more time.”

  I breathe in, out, in and then quickly dive underwater. Before I even reach the bottom, my mouth opens to swallow water. My muscles remember exactly who I am without me having to force anything at all.

  I flail. God. There’s nothing to grab onto, and fire roars up my body, from my toes to my waist, burning my skin. My lungs squeeze tight, and bones shift, slide and then pop in my chest. My ribcage flattens. I scream and bubbles stream out of my mouth. Heat pushes against the underside of my skin. Flesh swells. I want to itch, scratch, but then the skin pops open and relief is too short. A thick substance secretes down my legs.

  A manacle grips my wrist and I look up to see Lakyn floating above me in the sun-drenched, blue water. My stomach stops clenching in absolute fear and I set my teeth against the pain.

  He won’t let me go. Not here. My thighs stick together and the skin overlaps, hardening as each tiny scale settles. Skin splits behind my ears and salt stings the wounds. The raw flesh feels strange and tender. My bikini bottoms seem to be stuck into my skin and it hur
ts so badly, I reach down to undo the laces at the sides, flinging the fabric aside.

  Fire immediately roars up my hips. My back bows, and legs fully cement together. Bones mesh, one instead of two, inside a tail.

  Lakyn doesn’t let go, but I don’t have to be embarrassed, and I’m not. He’s taken care of me in the sea before, and his hand offers a lifeline, which assures me he understands the pain turns me mindless. He floats down to meet me under the surface and firmly wraps an arm around my waist until my lungs settle.

  I suck in a mouthful of water and breathe out again. Taking my time, I glance around at the ripples of waves on the surface and light pushing through this wonderful place. I let go of him, swim away a little and my opalescent tail fin glints with a myriad of colours. The seabed is in full view and ripples of light dance across the sand. Bombies with waving seaweed delineate sandy walkways and I smile at the thought of following where they lead.

  Lakyn’s head pops up in front of mine, his mouth piece and goggles covering half his face. He shakes his head and points at the gun in his hands. He blinks and for a moment, his eyes are bluer than the ocean, shining brighter than sunlight. Colour flows over his irises. He is part me. Part of who I am.

  A turtle swims beneath my tail, and water eddies on my tight-knit tail. So slow and peaceful, in another world entirely. We swim down to the coral. I’ve never seen such colours. Pale pink and white waving fronds, the brightest green, yellow disks stuck into stone, adorable blue and yellow fish. The purples, oranges, and brown spidery tendrils of plants. It all looks like heaven.

  We swim over a huge swathe of yellow coral and set down on the sea floor. The moment I touch the bottom, I flick my tail back and forth and rocket up to the surface. He catches hold of me on the way and we both break the surface together.

  He slicks water from his head with a quick toss, removes the mouth piece and grins at me. “You’re a fast study. Good.” He falls silent and stares into my face, both hands gripping my arms. “You look like you truly belong here.”

  I take in his chiselled face and his smooth lips only to have mine sting. I lift up a hand to rub at the softness, and frown, breaking the moment. “Why do they do that?” My voice is small with bewilderment, and I realise I haven’t taken a breath of air. I breathe shallow, but it hurts, and I wince, rubbing at the sore spot on my chest. My ribcage wants to expand.

  “Do what?” He leans closer and the slick fabric of his wetsuit rubs against the bare skin of my stomach. His flippers rhythmically tread water, legs occasionally brushing against the sensitive matrix of my tail.

  My heart stutters. “My lips burn when I look at your mouth,” I say and lean my head back, trying to stay away from the spears against his chest. I curl my tail around his legs and wait for an answer.

  “The legend describes it as something that occurs when you bring a human back to life.” His tone is apologetic. “That’s how I brought you back. I . . . kissed your mouth and breathed pure finfolk into you. Hopefully, the sensation doesn’t last forever.” This time his grin is more lopsided, but there’s a devilish gleam in his eyes. “When you look at my mouth, your body must remember.”

  A curious, swooping sensation affects my stomach, and I’m acutely aware of the strength and warmth of his body. “So I could breathe finfolk back into you if I needed to? You’d get your fins. I’d just have to kiss you?”

  He moves the mouth piece to one side, slides his goggles up to the crown of his head and studies me with eyes of sharp sapphire. “You want to do that—now?”

  “What’s the danger?” I whisper. Other than heart failure at the idea of kissing you. My tongue traces the warm salt from my lips.

  A smouldering flame in his eyes startles me. Slight tremors pass from his fingers into my arms as his dark gaze follows the movements of my tongue. “No danger other than the turn might kill me. I think it’ll be worth it.”

  “I’m the only one to have survived in a thousand years.” I wince in disappointment. “I forgot.”

  He grins, slicks back his fringe and says, “Don’t worry, Ellie. I’m not afraid of dying. Not for this.”

  I pull out of his grasp. “You’ve had enough grief. I won’t make it worse.”

  “That’s funny. I tell you sirens are here because of me, and you think you’re the one to cause me grief.” His cheek slides against mine. The heat of the contact makes my heart stop, then thump. Lips against my ear, he whispers, “The first night I saw you singing on the cliff, as though your heart was broken, and you thought no one was around, I knew you were one of a kind.”

  A sudden weakness courses through my veins. Tiny thrills dart up my neck and spine and I shiver, drifting closer to his hard chest. He’s talking about when the loss of my father was too much to bear, and I’d sing our old songs at the bluff overlooking the bay. I remember the aching loneliness of losing my father filling my heart. Blasting out the pain became the only way I knew how to cope.

  “I thought no one could hear me.” I sway and carefully avoid the spears. I wish for once I met Lakyn in a normal way and we were together without our lives at stake.

  “It reminded me of my family, Ellie. How it felt to have lost them, the good times as well.” He pulls back and releases me. “I’d visit you and listen often. You have a gift.”

  I look up at him and smile. “Really?”

  “It’s the truth,” he asserts. “Now, we need to practice. I’m going to teach you how to shoot.”

  “How long did it take you to learn?”

  “Ten years of daily practice.”

  “Terrific.” I grimace. “That’s all? OK. I’m ready.” We both dive underwater again, holding hands. He passes over the spear gun, shows me how to grip it properly, load and fire, but to my dismay, all the spears skew off target. I can’t hit any of the circular coral formations that litter the sandy bottom.

  I aim, but I’m not used to the currents. I throw up my hands in frustration and let out a silent scream.

  He swims behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. I don’t feel the sharp bite of the spears against his chest, so he must have moved them aside. His right hand trails along my arm and covers my finger over the trigger. Then he wraps his left hand over mine, holding up the length of the gun. For a few seconds, his heartbeat thrashes against my back and I can’t move, but then I relax and lean into his warmth. In front of my face, he releases a leaf and it floats to my left.

  He angles the gun down and points to a spot so my gaze follows. The water pushes at the right side of us, and he adjusts. He presses his finger hard on mine. The arrow shoots out, spearing the bombie perfectly.

  He releases me, gesturing to reload. I groan. He makes it look so easy, but I follow his unspoken advice and aim slightly right of the bombie. And miss again. I hunch over and swear, sucking in a lungful of water.

  Lakyn grins, circling his index finger in the water. Again.

  29

  LAKYN POINTS TO the surface, signalling it’s time to leave. But my arms are so heavy, I can barely lift them. My neck aches. One exhausted flick back and forth of my tail and the crown of my head breaks through the silky water to the air.

  Sore muscles burn beneath my skin, but the breeze chills the water droplets on my nose. I lift my chin higher to capture the sunlight. Warmth spills across my cheeks. My first inhalation of air has me gasping a hacking cough, then a wet sound emerges from my mouth. My chest pushes out, bones widen and a deep throbbing ache explodes in the centre of my ribs. I arch back and scream. Startled birds fly away from the top of the trees on the rocky cliff face.

  Dryness rasps the skin inside my throat, and saltwater immediately slides into my nasal passages, soothing the irritation.

  When I was pure human that would’ve burned.

  Silver linings . . . they are everywhere. I laugh and push the spear gun into Lakyn’s arms, but he shakes his head and closes in, his big broad hands on my shoulders. The strength of him is unbelievable after such a long swim.


  “Are you OK, Ellie?” His tone is smooth even after the exertion.

  “I’m done. You carry it.” My arms are rubbery and move at the slightest whim of the waves. “Seriously, you might have to carry me back.” I can feel muscles I never knew existed—deep within me sinews stretch into a whole body ache—as taut as a bowstring.

  He sweeps back his fringe and grins. “I’m proud of you. I imagine this feels strange, but you have to learn to swim with a spear gun all the time. And if you go back into the water when I’m not with you, take the gun.” His face turns serious. “Your protection is everything to me, so promise me that. Never go in without it.”

  “Slave driver,” I groan under my breath and try to slow my pants, but the ache doesn’t let up in my chest. “Let me get my breath back.”

  A rumble makes us both look up and away from the clear patch of sky above our heads. A line of black clouds and dark grey ones creep menacingly across the sky. The storm has become a wave and is ready to wash us away.

  “Look over there.” He points behind me, and I twist to get a better view of an even darker patch of sky. “We have to leave.” He replaces his mouth piece, grabs my hand, and then I’m dragged back under, choking on salt water.

  Bones slide, well used to change and snap into place. A gurgle fills my lungs and blackness filters through the depths. The space feels too small, although I can’t really see anything. My last nightmare went the same way, darkness, sinking, despair. Someone’s hand wrapped around one of my limbs. At least this time I know a little bit more about how to defend myself.

  And I trust Lakyn. He’s saved me twice. But it seems no matter what choices any of us make, there are consequences.

  I clutch the spear gun close to my chest and roll in an undulating motion through the water, straining toward a rock crevice. Somewhere to hide. But Lakyn hauls me to the shore in an undeniable show of raw strength. It’s too open. My hand clenches around his in protest, but before I can think to pull back, my hands rest against the sand, grains raining up through my fingers.