by Naomi Fraser
Ralph rubs a circle on the windscreen in front of him, a worried look on his face.
“Don’t stop, Ralph,” Lakyn says from the back, but it sounds remarkably like an order.
Glass shatters and I tilt my head automatically to the right to avoid the branch spearing my window. Tiny glass shards scatter across my lap, my tail, and I can’t move for fear of cutting myself.
Cal swears in the back, but Lakyn reaches a hand between my face and the glass and pushes the limb back through the broken window. Rain slips through and drenches my face. “Don’t touch the glass,” he orders. “And don’t move.” He grabs a spare towel and tries to hold it over the window. Then, “Ralph, I’ve got a hint on the trace with the magic. It’s not my uncle’s. It moves differently, but it’s powerful.”
“Great. Just what we need.” The car skids on the asphalt, and the gum trees resemble high sentinels with great branches and green leaves swaying in the gusts, ready to crash down onto the road.
Suddenly, the wind stops, but the rain doesn’t. The deluge roars, and Ralph continues to drive as though he knows exactly where he’s going. The towel against the window becomes sopping wet, dripping water onto the floor of the Hyundai. The narrow road winds around a huge cliff face, slightly protected by trees, until we come to the boat yard and the hostel.
The lights are off when we arrive, and the wind howls against the old building, making projectiles out of old buoys.
Ralph stops the car, gets out and hurries to Cal’s side. “Out you get, lad. Come on in. We have to carry Ellie inside, too.”
Rain sluices the outside of the car, but Cal slides out the car with Bethany in his arms and the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. He runs for the front door and finds shelter under the overhang.
I wonder where he got the weapon. It isn’t easy to obtain a firearm in Queensland; you can’t just go to a corner store and get one. Lakyn opens my door, rain pouring over his back, and his gaze meets mine with a flash of light blue. I know he didn’t want me to tell Bethany and Cal anything, but he has to realise I’d feel responsible for them if a lie by omission led to their deaths.
“I had to tell him.” I tentatively touch Lakyn’s hand. “They’re my friends. Bethany wouldn’t have survived, and Cal’s career is out on the water. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to them because of me.”
“What if they feel the same way and tell their brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers?” Lakyn asks tersely. He doesn’t try to come out of the rain. The droplets splash icy cold against my arms and I shiver. His gaze softens. “C’mon Ellie.” He bends down, lean muscles bunching in his biceps, and then he lifts me with ease, cradling me against his chest. “We have to be careful about the broken glass.”
I nestle my face into his neck and murmur against his salty skin, “I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to stay silent. I just couldn’t.”
He kicks the door shut and runs to the open door of the hostel. Inside, the warmth of the pot belly stove seeps into my skin. I sigh, and he places me in the chair nearest the fire. I immediately reach out toward the flames, rubbing my palms together and spreading out my cold fingers to soak in the heat.
“You’re chilled.” Lakyn caresses my shoulder and flicks back my hair. He crouches to inspect my skin. “You don’t look like you’ve been cut. Just to be safe, I’ll remove the towels and get fresh ones and a robe.”
“Thank you.”
“That was a close one.”
I lift up my chin and smile at Cal. He stares at us, but seems to be relaxing. He’s taken the seat at the far corner of the room with Beth across his legs, her head against his shoulder.
“Come closer to the fire,” I invite. “It’s warmer here and I can tell you more.”
Lakyn squeezes my hand. “I’ll be back soon.” He directs a hard stare toward Cal and then leaves.
Cal nestles Beth in a spare chair and selects a seat nearer the fire and me.
I stare into the flames and begin to speak. “The sirens are responsible for other deaths along the coastline. That girl you found last year. Why authorities can’t figure out how they died or why. Sirens steal people’s souls. They’re not supposed to be here, and they followed Lakyn. I’ve been training today, preparing to get away in case they come for me again. Lakyn thinks more are coming.”
“They followed him? How convenient. Followed him right to you.”
I smile wanly, noticing the gun Cal still clutches in his right hand and the nervous twitch of his fingers. “I know what you’re trying to say, but he shouldn’t be blamed for what the sirens are doing. And yes, he was a merman, and he lost his fins because he helped a human.” I pause. “Me.”
Cal immediately turns to Lakyn, who returns, and they size each other up in silence, but Cal relaxes his hold on the gun and then leans back in the seat. “OK. Tell me more.”
Bones crack and I feel my hips shift. I grab the edges of the chair, press down, tuck in my chin and a screech escapes my mouth.
Immediately, Lakyn pulls me up into his arms, his voice soothing, “It’s OK, Ellie. Let it come. Remember what I told you, you have legs, you can walk.”
Sweat beads on my forehead and upper lip, the heat from the fire too much to bear. “I . . . I . . .” My mouth and throat is too dry to talk, and my tail itches.
“Stand on your tail,” he murmurs in my ear. “Forget what’s going on around you and think back. You can walk. Remember? Put one foot in front of the other.”
“I can’t,” I gasp. Rain and flame converge in the air, and I drag the scent of wood smoke and moisture into my lungs.
“Hell.” Cal’s there, his chest leaning against my other shoulder, fingers digging into my skin. “She’s heavy.”
“It’s her tail,” Lakyn mutters. “Don’t let her fall. Ralph, help me with the robe.”
Footsteps pound the floor, and Ralph’s lined face appears above mine. “Hang in there, love. Just like last time.”
“Move the towels, would you?” Lakyn asks. “Put her arms through the robe. She needs to walk.”
“What?” Cal asks. “How?”
Ralph strips the fallen towels from my tail fin and more hands grip my hips, so warm after the cool rain. Their palms radiate heat into my scales and skin. Scales and skin. I’m human, too. Ralph threads my arms through the robe and ties the front securely around my waist. “There you go, Ellie. You’re all good.”
The tail fin retracts into the bones of my feet, and dust on the floor whips around my tail. Black lightning arcs up into my body, and whoever’s holding my hands gets broken fingers. My head falls back and lands on Lakyn’s shoulder. I look up into the golden cast of his cheeks, the way the firelight dances across his skin.
Something’s happening to me, and his eyes are beacons, keeping me in this world. Mine widen, feeling the skin pull back on my legs. He gently brushes damp hair from my forehead, his gaze holding mine and I drown in blue. Once again.
“You’re feeling the transformation.” He doesn’t tell me to enjoy it or anything else, but pain and joy intertwine until I discover they’re the opposite aspects of the same thing. The strength in his gaze slows my breath.
“What’s it like having legs, Ellie?” Ralph asks.
Pictures of my favourite shorts flash through my mind. Short and black. Denim, blue. My thighs and knees, the shine of the mirror as I look at my reflection. Choosing my shoes. I struggle to push a foot forward like last time, and my muscles press against the tail, holding me in tight.
“Yes,” Lakyn murmurs. “Good. That’s it. You’re human.”
Skin lifts in sections on my legs, and then the hatches close, and this time, there’s no holding back my scream. Heat melts my skin. All around me is the glow of the fire. Sweat trickles down my back.
“The next foot, Ellie. Don’t give up now.”
I hear the hard snap of bone and arch back, knees buckling as my legs release each other. Hands grip me tighter and skin folds over on my feet. I bend forward, nausea
coiling in my stomach.
“Can’t—” I let go and sink into darkness.
≈≈≈
“ELLIE,” A GENTLE voice calls out to me in the black. “Come back to us.”
Awareness floods my body, and I press back against softness, my head resting on a pillow. I have trouble remembering, feeling sure I have to do something in the morning. I open my eyes and stare at a strange ceiling. God, not again.
“Ellie.”
“Cal?” I turn my head to hunt for the voice.
Lakyn frowns. “No.” His gaze shifts away, and I follow his line of sight. Cal and Bethany sit rather nervously on the other sofa across from us.
“What happened?” I try to smile but don’t think I have the energy. “I blacked out again? You caught me?”
Lakyn nods and holds a hand to my shoulder. “Don’t get up yet, you’ll be dizzy.” He smiles down, and his features soften.
“Dizzier.” I grin back at him. “I want to tell them something.”
“I’m sure you do, but—”
“I saw it,” Cal bursts out. “I saw you change. One moment you had a . . . tail, and the next, legs.”
Bethany leans against her cousin. “You had a haircut and now your hair is longer.”
“I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how. But I’m OK,” I say, hoping she can hear the reassurance in my voice so she will get that frightened look off her face. “It’s true. I believe mermaids have longer hair. It just grew again.”
“What happened?” she asks. “Tell me everything.”
I proceed to do so, how I noticed the changes to my ribs while we went shopping, how my hair grew after I cut it, but I hadn’t said anything at the time. Lakyn sticking by me on the excursion and how he seemed to know I wanted to go swimming. How I heard the song again and Lakyn saved me. All of it.
Cal leans closer at the end of my tale. “So if we’re in danger, that means our families are too—”
“No!” Lakyn jumps up and paces the room, clenching his hands into fists. “I know what you’re going to say, and you can’t do it no matter how much you want to.”
“What?” I stare at him. “Who’s going to say what?”
He nods to Cal. “Cal here. He wants to warn his family to save them from the sirens.”
“That’s natural,” I agree and smile. “I’m sure they won’t—”
“Well, it’s my father and uncle and—”
“Are you listening to me?” Lakyn snarls and towers over Cal. “You can’t.”
I sit up straighter. “Why not?”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence Ralph and Joey and all the rest haven’t told everyone they know about finfolk? Think about it. What stops them?” He stops pacing and puts his fists on his hips, glaring down at me. “They only talk to those who already know. The guardians of the sea have a special missive to destroy anyone who gives away too many secrets. That is why I didn’t want you to tell anyone. They can tell others.”
I frown up at him as I process this information. “I don’t understand.”
“Every guardian will be sent to kill you and all the others you have told. They will kill the story dead to keep their secrets safe. The more people you tell, the more you think you’re saving, but if they repeat anything you’ve said, even by accident, then they’re dead, too.”
I gasp, and the sudden pain to my chest has me choking. “They die anyway?”
“If they reveal anything.” Lakyn nods. “You could wipe out entire families by telling one person. You have to be so careful. The moment you told Bethany and Cal, you could have killed them. They will want to tell their families, and they can’t be certain someone down the line won’t say anything. That’s the danger.”
“But if others knew their lives were in danger if they said something?”
Lakyn looks at me with something akin to pity in his gaze. “Did that stop you?”
“You didn’t tell me why!” I object. “Damn.” I rub my hands against each other, trying to remove the sweat from my palms.
“What do these guardians look like?” Cal asks.
“Protectors of the sea,” I murmur. “Lakyn used to be one, until he betrayed them and saved me.”
Bethany sighs, and gets up off her seat, comes and sits by me and then holds my hand. “I won’t tell anyone, Ellie. Don’t worry.”
Lakyn sighs. “You can’t promise that, so don’t even try. What about when you have children? You’ll do anything to protect them. You’re not expected to make promises you have no hope of keeping. But it’s dangerous enough now. Ellie—” He looks at me with a stern expression. “You have told too many people already. Entire villages have been wiped out. Imagine a thousand guardians like me, coming for you with the ability to lure you from your bed with magic.”
“I thought only sirens could lure people?”
“The council has enough magic to lend to the guardians until they get the job done. We don’t like to rely on the sirens; they kill the wrong people and are harder to control. Even the guardians who don’t like to kill will be forced to, exactly for the same reasons you’ve told them.” He nods to Bethany and Cal. “They’ll want to protect their family and friends.”
“So in trying to save them, I’ve put their life in more danger.” I rake a hand through my hair and rock back into the sofa.
“Probably far more than you intended to. It is always the same.” Lakyn turns to Cal. “If you tell your other family members, word will get around. It’s the surest way to kill them, instead of saving them.”
Cal rubs his upper arms as if chilled. “They’re assassins . . . of the sea?”
“Guardians,” Lakyn corrects. “But I see now you understand.”
“Yes,” Cal murmurs absently. “That gear I saw you with in the water. They’d have that and more. They can lure us in?” He scratches his chin. “That’s it then. Saving lives means keeping my trap shut.”
“Can you do that?” Lakyn’s gaze is glacier blue.
“If it means I save them,” Cal answers simply.
“There’s more. If you tell them to stay off the water without confessing why, the finfolk will notice—everything to do with the sea is their business. Don’t think you can get around it by avoiding going out on the water, or stopping your family from doing so. The guardians will ferret out the truth by any means.”
Cal falls silent a moment more and then nods. “Got it.” He turns to Bethany. “Cuz?”
He doesn’t need to say anything more than that as she meets his gaze and they seem to communicate without words. She leans back in the seat, clenching my hand tighter.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Cal begins. “If the guardians are so secretive and actually kill humans for telling secrets, what prompted you to save Ellie?”
Lakyn’s eyes widen, and his whole body stiffens. “What?”
“He saw the sirens,” I say. “It’s illegal for them to be here—”
“Yes, yes,” Cal interjects. “But if killing humans is something done without compunction by the guardians, why did Lakyn feel the need to save you? Wouldn’t it go against everything he was taught? Plus, he lost his fins and his home?”
31
THE LATEST POP song is stuck in my mind, and I wander about the kitchen, singing the tune under my breath while I make a peanut butter sandwich. I’m heading back to the fridge for a drink when a hand lands on my shoulder.
“Aah!” I jump and the glass bottles rattle in the refrigerator door, though none break. I blow out a breath and scowl, then glance over my shoulder. “Cal? You scared me to death.”
He grins, although the expression looks uneasy, and he shuffles his feet back, giving me some room. “Your nerves are shot. You almost jumped a foot in the air. I knocked. Probably didn’t hear me over the rain and your singing. What ya doin’?” He saunters toward the cabinets and leans one hip against the counter, agitatedly running a hand through his dark hair. “Raiding the fridge?”
&nb
sp; “Bad manners, right?” I dive back inside the fridge for a drink, then close the door with my foot. “Lakyn said it’s all good, and I’m starving.” I pop open a can of Coke.
“Swimming in the sea for an hour or two will do that to you.”
“Hmm. You were watching us, weren’t you?” I study him curiously, munching on my sandwich, and then I swallow the food with a mouthful of cola. “You waited that long to talk to me? Why didn’t you just come on over?”
“Beth. She couldn’t shake the idea something was wrong. You know what her instincts are like. She wanted to wait.” He hesitates. “But yeah, I haven’t stopped watching the whole time I’ve been here. When Lakyn stood next to you by the car, I watched. When he carried you inside, and while your . . . legs appeared. Especially when I asked him why he saved your life and he lied.”
“Wait. What? You think he lied?”
Cal’s toned shoulder muscles flex, and water droplets fleck the burnished bronze of his skin. He’s been outside while wearing the white singlet. His jaw hardens and the clear light in his eyes holds me spellbound.
“I know it.” Cal sucks in a breath that sounds too loud in the kitchen. “Don’t ask me how, but I do. He might be able to hide it from you, but for some reason, he thinks he can’t reveal the truth.” Cal’s eyes narrow. “Too much at stake. I’m not saying you can’t trust him with your life. Obviously, you can—”
“He said he saved me because he did what he thought to be right. From what I’ve seen it’s true.”
“That’s half an answer. No.” Cal shakes his head, and the lines of his body stiffen until his shoulders hunch over, as though he’s protecting me from what’s outside the door. “Think over his story, Ellie. If that’s the case why didn’t he save the other kids who drowned? How does being right stop with you?” he asks, staring into my eyes. “What makes you so important? Why pick you out of all of them?”
“Luck?” Though I only half believe that. I’ve never been so lucky to live while all the others died. The sandwich dangles from my hand, my fingers pressing into the soft bread as I think up an answer. “Lakyn wasn’t there to save them.”