Born of Water: An Elemental Origins Novel

by A. L. Knorr

  "I see," he said, resigned.

  We sat in silence for a time. The fire crackling peacefully was the only sound.

  "Well, I am grateful anyway to have come this far. You can't imagine the efforts the Novak family has put into finding The Sybellen," said Martinius as he got to his feet, moving stiffly. We stood up as well. "It is remarkable that one of the stories that Jan told me when I was little actually turned out to be true. Sybellen truly was or is a mermaid, if she's still alive. How much I wish he was around today so I could ask him if he'd always known or if he'd just made it up to delight the ears of his young grandson." He then raised his bushy eyebrows at my mother, "You'll stay and finish out the project, I hope?"

  "Please," my mother scoffed, "those boys are lost without me."

  Martinius barked a laugh. "I'm sure they are. There's no salvage team on earth that could compete with you two."

  There was no reason to tell Martinius that up until yesterday, we thought I was human. I was useless when it came to salvage work.

  "Listen," my mother said. "We have another sensitive issue, one that I'll need to address before Monday and in secret."

  "What's that?" Martinius asked, steepling his fingers. The emotion had been tucked away. The businessman was back.

  "My team can't see that masthead. I've removed the algae from it and my obvious resemblance to it is a danger to my daughter and I. May I have your permission to remove it from the ship? Very carefully, of course."

  Maybe Martinius bought the sincerity of her request, but I knew Mom. She was only asking as a courtesy. Come Monday morning, with or without his permission, the wreck would no longer have a masthead. She would do whatever was necessary to protect us. I held my breath and watched his face as he mulled this over.

  "I had intended to remove only the cargo that was worth recovering. I had wanted The Sybellen herself to be left alone. But I understand your dilemma." He went quiet again, thinking it over. Finally, "I can have a preservation box released to you for the masthead. If you can guarantee neither the masthead nor the ship will be damaged upon separation, then you have my permission to retrieve it. Although, even for the two of you I can imagine it will be a difficult job. How do you propose to bring it back to shore?"

  "Why don't you let me worry about that? You have a case for the box? We can't afford to have anyone inspect it," my mother replied. "Can we arrange to deliver it to you personally under cover of night? And where will you plan to keep it?"

  "This is my personal library, no one comes in here without my invitation, except for you... today," he added, and his mouth twitched with humour. "Are you satisfied to store it here? We can cover it and lock it. Once you leave, it eventually won't be such a sensitive issue. Do you agree?"

  She nodded. My mother was stretching herself a lot for him. I knew her, she would rather destroy the masthead altogether and erase any connection between The Sybellen and us. The agreement meant that we had to trust Martinius with our secret. The only reason she was bothering to negotiate was because he had no motive to expose us. Like he'd said, control of his company would be at stake.

  My mother held out her hand. "To our understanding, and your word as a gentleman," she said.

  He took it and looked from me to my mother as he shook her hand. "We have an accord." Then he shook my hand too.

  Twenty-Three

  Martinius had his staff load a watertight box into the back of a truck for us. It was enclosed in a black crate with his company name stamped across it. Mom explained that he'd told the staff that it was for the dive the following week and since everyone knew there was a salvage about to start, no one so much as blinked at it.

  After dark, we drove the truck down to the empty beach and went back into the ocean for the second time that day. It was the first time I had gone for a night swim as a mermaid.

  This time it was all business. We got to the wreck as quickly as we could. I was amazed at how efficiently our eyes handled the dark. The wreck was almost as visible to me now as it had been during the day.

  Now that Martinius knew what we were doing, I had imagined some kind of delicate process where my mom used a tool to pry the masthead loose in a more respectful way, but I was wrong about that.

  Since she'd only removed the algae from the face, she first blew the remaining algae away from the whole thing with her powerful little stream of water, so it wasn't so slippery. Then, she had no problems prying it away from the ship with her bare hands. The waterlogged wood groaned and squeaked noisily as the nails came loose. The sculpture came away in one whole piece, leaving a flat empty space behind it.

  "Do you think the lack of algae on the empty space might tip off any of the guys?" I asked as I looked at the bare wood. It was clear as day to me that the masthead had recently been removed.

  "Don't think so," Mom said. "The masthead isn't on the list, and human divers have so little mobility and time when they do these dives that they don't waste time exploring areas of the ship that aren't of interest to the task. "I wouldn't worry, but I'll keep an eye."

  My mother carried the masthead the entire way back to shore all by herself. So far, I had been no help at all. It took us a lot longer to get back to shore than it had to get out to the ship because the masthead slowed her down considerably – not because she found it heavy, but because its bulky design wasn't aquadynamic in the least.

  It was strange to see my mother's face right next to an exact wooden replica of her. She was right to have removed the masthead. The resemblance was uncanny.

  When we reached shore and traded our fins for legs, we left the masthead submerged in water and went to the truck. We opened the crate and carried the empty box down to the beach where we took it and submerged it to fill it with seawater. We floated the masthead into the box, ensuring that it never emerged from the water.

  Before we sealed up the box we just stood there, looking at the masthead.

  "Is it just a coincidence that she looked so much like you, do you think?" I asked my mother, looking back and forth between the two identical faces.

  My mom eyed up her wooden likeness thoughtfully, "No, its not likely a coincidence. I'm almost positive Sybellen is related to us somehow. Mermaids do have some common features among them, but I've met enough to know that they don't all look like twins."

  "I wonder if she's still alive, and if she is, whether she remembers her past," I mused.

  Mom shrugged and we sealed the box with the masthead and water inside. "I doubt we'll ever find out. A shame, really. I'm curious about her but not enough to spend a lifetime in a futile search." She double checked the locks and added, "We have to leave it sitting in the seawater until Martinius decides what to do with it."

  "Why?" I asked, as we floated the box towards the beach, one of us on either side.

  "It's an archival thing," she said. "It's been sitting in seawater for so long that if we let it dry out without transitioning it slowly, it will rot at light speed. Not that I'd care, but this is what Martinius asked for," she said as she snapped the lid shut.

  "How thoughtful of you." I raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you perhaps have a soft spot for the old fellow?" I teased.

  She gave a half-smile and snorted but didn't answer.

  Between the two of us, we carried what must have been several hundred pounds of masthead, water, and box, and loaded it back onto the truck. Piece of cake.

  It was sometime after four in the morning when we returned to the estate, so the hallways were empty. We put the box onto a waiting trolley and used the service elevator to take it up to the fourth floor.

  Martinius was eagerly awaiting his delivery. He looked tired but his eyes were gleaming with excitement as he opened the door for us. We pushed it into his library and parked it in the spot he'd cleared for it. He pulled away the collapsible sides of the crate to look at the masthead. He put a hand against the glass like he wished he could touch it.

  He said some words in Polish to himself. It sounded like
he was speaking to a lover. He looked back at us, "I am still not entirely sure whether to believe you. You cannot deny that the resemblance is remarkable," he said to my mother.

  "It is," she agreed.

  "Thank you," he said. "I wasn't going to take this piece from the ship but I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm happy to have the excuse to do so."

  We wished him a good night and went back to our suite. With that done, we both collapsed into bed.

  Mom slept in until noon the next day but I was up and out of bed early. I was too excited by this big change in my life to spend it sleeping. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and went down to find some food. They always set out a buffet breakfast in one of the large rooms on the ground floor. They kept it hot until eleven and then cleared it away.

  The breakfast room was full of food but empty of people and the food was untouched; I was the first one here. I loaded up a plate with a heap that would have embarrassed any normal person: Scrambled eggs, flapjacks, sausages, scalloped potatoes, and steamed asparagus and spinach swimming in butter. My mouth was salivating furiously. I put some steamed salmon on my plate as well.

  I had a memory come up while I was enjoying the tender fish. As soon as I was old enough to be aware of the irony of my mother eating fish, I'd asked her about it. "Doesn't it make you a cannibal, mom?" She'd laughed and explained that it was no different from humans eating land animals. Mermaids don't have to eat fish to survive in the wild, but many of them do. The salt draws out their predatory nature.

  I was just patting my mouth with my napkin when I saw Antoni walk by the open door. He must have spotted me in the corner of his eye because he reappeared and came in. "I was looking all over for you yesterday. Where did you go?" he inquired.

  I wondered if it sounded nosy to me only because I now had something to hide. I grabbed my glass of water and opened my throat, draining the glass in one gulp. Goodness knew, I was going to need it. He raised his eyebrows at me.

  "I spent the day with my mom. How are your ribs?" I asked, trying to sound cool and detached. I piled my dirty dishes together and took them to the bins that the staff left out for that reason.

  Antoni stepped closer to me. His scent drifted over me. I swayed unsteadily for a moment. "I'm fine. Can we talk?" he asked, reaching to put a hand on my shoulder.

  "I don't think that's necessary," I said as I ducked under his arm and left the breakfast room.

  "I need to know what you remember, what happened to us in the water," he said as he followed me into the hall.

  So that's what he was after. "What do you think happened?" I said, stalling for time as my mind went scrambling for an answer. Why hadn't I thought further about this? I should have known he wouldn't let it rest.

  "Don't play games with me, Targa," he sighed. "Why won't you just tell me what happened?" The pleading sound in his voice gave me pause. I turned to face him. His eyes explored my face, seeking some kind of truth. He needed peace and I couldn't give it to him, not by telling him what really happened.

  I closed my eyes and called the dormant violins to life, "You passed out," I said, opening my eyes and looking straight into his. The music poured out of my throat and washed over him. His face went still, listening. "I swam to you using my lifejacket as a paddle board. I dragged you to shore and went running for help. The boys in the boathouse found you."

  He slowly repeated everything I had said, word for word, as though they were sinking into his mind and becoming his new reality. Goosebumps ran down my back. He believed everything; I could see the authenticity of his belief etched on his face. Once the violins came out they seemed to want to stay out. I pushed them away with effort, cleared my throat and said in my normal voice, "Now, have some peace about it Antoni."

  He seemed to snap out of the reverie at the sound of my human voice but he no longer looked confused. "Thank you for saving my life," he said, solemnly.

  I nodded and smiled, but inside I felt bitter. I had just used my siren wiles for the first time, on purpose, to deceive a man. A faint wave of nausea rolled over me, along with the sensation that I needed to scrub myself clean. I turned to walk away, resolving never to use my voice to deceive anyone ever again.

  He followed me. "Thank you for explaining Targa, but that's not all. Can we talk about what happened after please? It's important."

  I turned to face him, but kept my distance. "Ok, go ahead."

  That pulled him up short. "Here?"

  "Why not here?" I took another step back and crossed my arms. I realized that any gesture I made that was meant to protect him from my siren wiles would appear as defensive. I dropped my arms.

  "You know why not here." He came closer and lowered his voice. "Just for a few minutes. Did I hurt you so badly that you don't even want to speak to me now? Your mom's work is just getting started; you'll be here for a while yet. Do you really want to avoid me all summer?"

  My brain was fuzzing out again. I took in the hazel eyes, the soft mouth, and the sound of his voice. I was losing focus in spite of the water I'd just guzzled. I stepped backwards realizing with annoyance that once again, my body language and what I was about to say were going to contradict one another. "You didn't hurt me, Antoni," I said. "I just won't be responsible for you getting fired."

  He took a step closer. "And I appreciate that, but it's going to cause even more suspicion if we suddenly stop hanging out. What conclusion do you think everyone will come to?"

  His scent washed over me again. My heart was speeding up. My skin began to tingle. Electricity zinged through every nerve. Now I was the one who was grinding my teeth. "Will you stop that please?" I said.

  "Stop what?" He looked genuinely confused.

  "Standing so close to me. I can't think straight."

  He had the audacity to grin at me. My temper flared. He had no idea how hard this was for me. The squeak of a trolley wheel came from around the corner. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the nearest door, praying the room was empty. It was. It was an office of cubicles abandoned for the weekend.

  "Stand there please. And for the love of Pete, please stop moving around." I stepped back away from him and my thoughts cleared a little.

  "You are a very strange woman." He grinned, "I like it."

  "Don't flirt with me, Antoni. You'll only make this harder."

  "I want you," he said rather suddenly, using my own words against me. His eyes darkened and I recognized his desire. I had seen it a million times before in the faces of men when they looked at my mother.

  I let out a frustrated groan. "You're playing with fire, Antoni. You think you're in control here? You're not. You don't want to lose your job? Then stay away from me. Tell Martinius I irritate you. Ask him to assign someone else. Or better yet, tell him that I'm happier to be left on my own. I don't need a babysitter." This was certainly true. Now that I was a mermaid I wanted to be in the ocean, not drinking coffee along a canal.

  "I can't stop thinking about you." He stepped closer.

  "Don't," I warned.

  "Don't what? This?" he said, and in two strides of his long legs he was on me. My brain checked out like I'd been shot up with morphine. We staggered backward together until my back hit the wall with a dull thud. His hands slid around my waist and his mouth covered mine. His fragrance surrounded me like a cloud. The siren in me thrilled to his touch and the tingle in my skin was back. A faint note of musk emanated from me.

  He lifted me off the ground and pressed me against the wall. His tongue found mine as the kiss became hard and deep. One broad hand slid up the leg of my shorts and cupped my bottom, fingers splaying towards my centre. No one had ever touched me so intimately before and I gasped against his mouth, curling my leg around his waist. His other hand found the skin of my back and snaked around me, his fingers curling over my ribs from behind and grazing the bottom of my breast. An animalistic sound came from deep in his throat, vibrating between us. For a half second I thought someone else was in the room,
the sound was so unlike him.

  His mouth moved from mine, across my jaw to the skin under my ear where he inhaled. "What have you done to me?" he groaned. "Your smell, your taste. You've bewitched me."

  "I've bewitched you," I repeated in a daze, my eyes closed. Somewhere down deep something sparked. My eyes snapped open. "Bewitched," I said again. I gritted my teeth and pushed at him, siren and human having a serious cage-match inside me. I squirmed and he put me down. I ducked out of the circle of his arms, moving away from his scent. "Yes, I've bewitched you Antoni." I heard a violin and swallowed hard, trying to shove it back down my throat.

  "What?" he said, turning towards me, hands reaching. His eyes were barely hazel anymore, they were a rich limpid brown, his pupils fully dilated even with the morning light streaming in the windows. He almost looked drugged.

  "This isn't real," I said fiercely, satisfied to hear that the music was gone.

  "What are you talking about?" He looked confused. Didn't this guy ever get mad? I felt like the key was to get him angry.

  "I tricked you," I said, cruelly. Hating myself, I continued, "I was seducing you. I just..." my mind skittered, searching for an excuse. "I just wanted to see if I could get you to snap out of your professional facade for once," I said, moving back as he stepped towards me again. "It was a dare from my friends. I guess I can tell them that I won."

  "You're lying," he said. "You're lying to protect me." He stepped forward. "You don't need to do that. What I said before, about my job. I can handle it. We'll be smart."

  That didn't sound like the real Antoni. He was bargaining, and he was advancing when I'd clearly told him to retreat.

  "I'm not lying." I stepped back again but my voice was steady.

  "Whatever I feel, I know you feel it too. It's real. We have magic, Targa." But he didn't take another step.

  I had to go in for the kill now or I was going to lose my resolve. I wanted him, but I didn't want him like this – with siren tricks. "No, we're not magic, Antoni. I don't feel anything for you. I seduced you on a dare because I'm a stupid teenager and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I did that. It's my turn to apologize to you now. I was foolish."