Taran was her constant guide, answering questions, showing her the beauty of the ocean, and teaching her its ways.
“I thought I knew the sea when I lived above,” Briah said one day as they sat on the ocean floor in a bed of brilliantly hued sea flowers. Briah now had a seal’s ability to hold her breath long enough to stay below the water for long periods. But Taran knew many places where air pockets could allow her to stay even longer. And every place he took her was filled with exotic beauty. “But now, actually being inside it, it’s so much more than I ever imagined.”
“‘Tis a separate world,” said the Taran. “So close to yours that they sometimes touch, yet always so very far apart.”
“Will you ever go in search of your own kind?” Briah asked. “There must be more, somewhere.”
Taran was silent, his red face troubled. “Travel is not something we do easily,” he said. “If the roane had not found me, I might have just stayed there alone in my ruined village, and lived among the dead until madness took me.” He struck a webbed hand against a rock. “It was a foolish urge to go where I didn’t belong that kept me from dying with my people as I should have!”
“Don’t say that!” said Briah. Then trying a more reasonable approach, asked, “Why do you say that?”
“I was always different; swimming close to shore, watching the mortals. I fell in love with a human woman, although she hated the sight of me. I used to watch her in secret. It was on one of those occasions that mermen from the south attacked my village.”
“Did you ever find out why they did?”
The merrow laughed bitterly. “Twas all a misunderstanding. The mer king’s daughter disappeared, and they believed it was we who had taken her. When her body was found near our fishing grounds, they threw themselves at us in revenge. I learned later ‘twas human men who had taken her, killing her only out of ignorance when they kept her too long from the water.”
Briah shook her head. “Strange.”
“What is?” asked Taran, clearly surprised by her reaction.
“When the slavers first took me, I didn’t understand what was going on. For so long I thought, if I just knew why this was happening, I could live with it. Then I hear your story, and I realize it wouldn’t have mattered. Knowing why doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Aye, lass, you’re right,” said Taran.
After a time, Briah spoke again. “The roane are good people, aren’t they?”
Taran smiled, sad memories receding. “They are the best race I know. And I have known many.”
“So Kamin will be safe among them.” She spoke more to herself.
“Yes,” said Taran. “But he will still need you.”
“I hope so. But even if he does, it will not be like it used to. It won’t be just him and me anymore. And, suddenly, I don’t know what else to do.”
Taran smiled again. This time his green face changed, and Briah wondered how she could have ever seen him as ugly. “Live here with us. Live here and be happy.”
“You have lived here for many years,” Briah said softly. “You have friends and a purpose. But… are you happy?”
Taran’s face changed again, and for a moment, Briah feared she had said the wrong thing. But he did not seem troubled, merely thoughtful. “I am not certain. But…” And his face became beautiful again. “I have learned how to laugh again.”
Briah thought about that. “When I lived on the beach above, Kamin taught me how to laugh again. Now that I’m down here, I find I may have to learn how all over again. Can you help me with that?”
****
Taran took her to the surface. When they reached the air, Briah’s only instinct was to fill her lungs, which felt like to burst, even though she knew they would not. Then she looked around. The sun shone on calm green waves, but there was no land anywhere in sight. Briah, a land dweller since birth, felt a moment of panic, and grabbed her companion’s webbed hand for support. “Where are we?” she yelped.
“Not far from your beach,” replied the merrow. Then he grinned. “At least, not far by my kind’s reckoning.”
“When I asked you to teach me how to laugh again, I didn’t mean the hysterical-with-fear kind!” But she was already smiling.
“See that island?” an arm of emerald scales pointed west.
Briah was about to say no, but on closer inspection, she saws a tiny dot of land. She nodded.
“‘Tis a magical place, lass. And the first of us to reach it will receive a special gift.”
Taran was reclining on the waves, his green tail reminding her how simple a task that would be for him. “A race?” she cried in disbelief. “Two legs and two arms against fins and a tail? Not fair! I could never swim as fast as you!”
“Then we must balance the odds, in the name of justice.” Taran gave a low, sharp whistle. A moment later, Briah saw a ripple in the water, and the ripple was moving toward them. It was followed by several more. Suddenly, a silvery shape shot from the sea in front of her and dove down again, splashing them both.
When the creature surfaced again—more sedately this time—Briah saw it was a dolphin, and remembered the time she and Kamin had gotten close enough to touch one. But this time the dolphin, followed by numerous friends, swam up to her, and slid his silken body against hers.
“Our friend has agreed to be your mount,” said Taran. “And, if you agree, we shall race to the island.”
Briah hardly cared about winning the race. Just the thought of riding through the waves on the back of a dolphin was exciting enough. She slid onto his back behind the hole that he apparently breathed through. The dolphin balanced himself next to the merrow, using his fins to remain in place. Briah hoped she would be able to hang on.
A sharp crack, made by another dolphin’s tail striking the water, and both sea creatures shot forward. Briah shrieked with excitement, and heard an answering cry from Taran beside her. Salt spray stung her cheeks and the watery world that held her passed in a blur of blues and greens. So this is what it is to fly, Briah thought, wishing it would never end.
The next thing she knew, she was truly flying—through the air, as the dolphin reached the shallow water of the reef, and neatly flipped Briah from his back. She landed feet first in knee-deep water and splashed the remaining distance to the sandy beach, just seconds ahead of Taran.
“I’m not entirely sure that was a fair race,” Briah said, as they lay panting in the golden sand. “I got an extra boost at the last.”
“‘Tis no matter,” said the merrow, his emerald green tail resting in the water, his human-like upper body propped up in the sand. “Not every race is simple. You have won this one.”
“And my prize?”
“Close your eyes and listen.”
Briah adjusted her body on the sun-warmed sand and did so. Suddenly, the air was filled with music. As lovely as the merrow’s song, but vastly different. The music swelled and transported her to someplace that was far away, and so very magical. When she thought about it later, Briah would wonder how there could be so much magic in a world that just three years ago she would have sworn had none—or only dark magic.
The music faded and finally stopped. Briah rolled over and opened her eyes, then gazed up the hill that formed the bulk of the island. At the top of the hill was a tree. And instead of leaves, the branches of the tree were covered in birds. The creatures who had sung for Briah were like tiny living jewels of red and green and blue. And as the last note of their song disappeared, they leapt from the branches and swirled around Briah like a hoard of tiny fairies. Briah stood and danced with them for a moment, her vision filled with the crystalline light of their feathers.
Then they circled her one last time and flew from the island, west across the water. In moments they disappeared from view.
Briah was speechless. Then she asked her companion, “Where will they go?”
“Who knows?” replied Taran, seeming as happy as she to share in her prize. They sat on the beach fo
r a while, then Taran said, “we should go. Places like this are patient with intruders for only short bits o’ time.”
“I suppose so,” said Briah, rising and preparing to dive.
“Careful about staying down for too long, lass,” said Taran. “You’re still new to all this, and I sometimes fear you take too many chances. I’d not want y’ to drown.”
Briah laughed. “Well, I don’t fear it. For you’d only have to kiss me to bring me back to life! Isn’t that how it works in places like this?”
She glanced at Taran, who had also been about to dive. Suddenly his green face became red and he turned on Briah with a look of anger—and hurt. “You would mock me now, after what we just shared?”
Briah took a step back and felt her own face grow hot—but with shame and embarrassment, and more than a little confusion. “I did not mean… I was not mocking you! But with all this enchantment… all this magic… it just seemed—” She choked up, uncertain what to say, or how to repair the damage she had unwittingly caused.
“No magic nor enchantment anywhere can change my face or the shape of my body! Yet you would tease me with talk that I might kiss one as fair as you! As if we could be as a prince and princess of Faerie—”
“I did not tease you! Think you I am so shallow that how you are formed is all I care about? That I cannot see you as a prince of Faerie? Surely you are closer to one than a clumsy mortal like me!”
For a long moment, Taran just started at Briah, and, foreign as his face was, she could easily read the play of emotions across it. Doubt, hope, wonder, then doubt again, stronger and fueled by anger.
Then he dove into the water, leaving Briah alone on the island.
CHAPTER 20
Briah waited for a while, to see if Taran would return. Then she waited to see if the birds would return. When she was finally convinced she was on her own, Briah took a deep breath, and dove into the water, hoping that Taran’s anger could not counteract the magic of the roane, and that she would still be able to hold enough air underwater.
She needn’t have feared. She arrived safely, if a bit depressed, at the seal-king’s palace.
Briah needed advice on what to do about this unpleasant turn of events with Taran. Was it all her fault? She thought it must be. She was, after all, the outsider here, and had clearly, if unwittingly, made a terrible mistake. But a part of her rebelled. “What was so wrong with what I said?” Briah asked, as she stumbled unseeing through spires of coral and shell. “I may have been too forward, even wanton by the rules above. But he was awfully rude! And he called me a liar… well, close enough… And… and didn’t believe I could love him!”
“Oh, Briah, there you are; I was looking for you!” Briah found herself nose to nose with the seal queen. Embarrassed, she backed away quickly.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she began.
“So I see.” The seal quickly shed her fur and stood in her human form. “But we are well met. I was hoping you could help me with something.”
“Of course,” said Briah, shaking away some of her sadness at the prospect of finally being useful here. “What can I do?”
The queen led Briah through a maze of air filled caverns. “Children are as curious here as they are in your world. They find many strange things that come to us from above, and wish to know what they are, but have never had anyone who could tell them. We thought perhaps you could.”
They stopped in a small cavern with a rock table, similar to the one they had feasted at on Briah’s first night below. The table was strewn with all manner of objects, most of which were familiar to Briah, although what the children were doing with some of them made her laugh. Kamin jumped onto the table and toddled over to her. He returned Briah’s eager hug, but squirmed to get down when she tried to set him on her lap.
“Go on,” she said, knowing he would be happier with his friends. He went to sit with Pup, who was now his constant companion.
The roane children were all in human from, except for the few who were too young to change. All of them were waiting expectantly for Briah to speak.
She started by taking a copper cooking pot off of a boy’s head. “This is not a hat,” she began. “It is used for cooking food.”
“What’s cooking?” asked a little girl. “What’s a hat?” asked another
Briah could see this would be a long day. Still, it was fun.
“This is a shoe,” she said finding a single boot among the artifacts. The children watched in delight as she put it on her foot, then stomped around in it. “Oh, shoes!” cried Pup, remembering her reference to the strange concept when they first spoke.
The seal children especially enjoyed the dice and gaming pieces, once Briah showed them how to play. Most preferred cooking pots as hats, even after she found a real hat among the artifacts. But when she saw it was made of animal fur, she quickly stuffed it under a broken chair and took a comb from a boy who was busily trying to use it to spear snails. Using a pair of eager volunteers—one in human form and one in seal—Briah used the comb to demonstrate human notions of grooming.
Then she found a bronze knife, and showed how it could be used to spear snails. The number of objects designed for killing made the roane uncomfortable, so Briah gathered up all the gold and silver coins she could find and explained their purpose. Most found the concept of money boring, until someone suggested using them as extra gaming pieces.
After Briah had told them all she could, the children ran off with their new toys, leaving a pile of weapons, pots, jugs and furniture behind. Briah watched Kamin swim off with them, and tried to smile, then before she could retreat with a polite excuse to the queen, burst into tears. The seal queen gathered the young woman into her arms without a word. Even without her soft fur, she was warm and comforting. “This isn’t for your son, is it?” she asked when Briah had cried herself out.
“It’s the merrow!’ Briah wailed. “I thought we were getting along so well. And now it’s so complicated.”
“It’s not complicated at all,” said the queen. “He loves you; you love him. What could be simpler?”
Briah stood back to look at the woman, trying to determine if she was joking. But she was out of practice reading human faces. She wasn’t going to even bother trying with faerie creatures.
But the face was gentle and full of wisdom; Briah could see that at least. “I see nothing simple about any love between two creatures who can’t even live in the same element,” said Briah. “Not to mention that I’m a former slave who fears a man’s touch, and he’s the last of his kind, condemned to a life of loneliness.”
“But don’t you see? That’s why you’re so perfect for each other! You both carry the same scars. And even in the ways you are different, no one could understand you the way he can, and you he. The roane are known as gentle, compassionate souls, yet never have I seen any two beings outside my own race that have those traits in such abundance as in the two of you.” The queen was silent while Briah took that in. Then she said kindly, “tell me what happened today.”
Slowly, Briah did so. “It was so magical,” she said as she finished. “The sunshine, the music, the island. I felt like I really was a princess of faerie. Foolish, I know.”
“Not foolish,” said the queen. “In fact, technically, you are a princess of faerie, in that this is faerie, and you’re the mother of our prince.” Then she smiled. “But love can make any girl feel like a princess, and I fear that’s what you feel foolish about.”
“There’s been precious little magic in my life until Kamin came along,” said Briah. “And that should be enough for me. Why should I go chasing after faerie princes that don’t love me?”
“But he does!”
“Then why did he leave like that? Why did he say I… say I…” Briah began to sob again. “I was teasing him!”
The seal queen tried to embrace Briah again, but the woman shook her head. The queen settled for gently patting her back. “My dear, ou
r beloved merrow has lived all his adult life as the only one of his kind. If his people ever considered themselves beautiful, as I hope they did, no other folk on land or sea have seen them that way.”
“But your folk love him,” protested Briah. “And even if he doesn’t know me very well yet, can he think me so shallow that I care only how he looks?”
“He has been treated unkindly by others. And not just once or twice. That is something you are familiar with, are you not, Briah?”
Briah thought about that for a long time. Yet the roane queen seemed to be in no hurry. That was something else she loved about these creatures. “It should be enough that I am not like the others of my kind,” she said after a time. “That was enough for your folk, wasn’t it?”
The seal queen smiled. “Then that is where you need to begin.”
It took Briah a moment to understand. “What? You mean talk to him?”
The seal woman smiled. “That’s normally how these things are done.”
“Not where I’m from! Couldn’t you talk to him for me? That’s closer to how they’re done in my world.” Although, Briah had to admit, nothing she had done in the last few years had matched her traditional upbringing, and not long ago, she had been shouting to the world that she was free of all those constraints. Was this her ancestral spirits’ idea of a joke?
“This is between you and Merrow,” said the queen. “And in the end, it would be that way between any two beings, no matter who negotiated the matters that led to their union.”
“We don’t have a union yet,” said Briah, but the queen only shook her head, turned back into a seal and swam away. Briah stared after her for a few moments, then shrugged and went in search of Taran.
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