Born of Water: An Elemental Origins Novel

by A. L. Knorr

  My mom's wind-up party is like a fairy-tale.

  I put my phone to vibrate and it buzzed less than an hour later.

  Saxony: Holy crap, Targa. Why wasn't I invited?

  Georjayna: What are you wearing? Send a pic of you and your mom.

  I asked Simon to take a photo of my mom and I standing in front of the ship's bell and he obliged. My mom hated posing for photos but she tolerated it for me. She even smiled. I texted it to the group.

  Georjayna: Aaaaaaawwwwwww! You guys look amazing.

  Saxony: Bella ragazza!

  My phone went quiet for a while, but about ten minutes later it vibrated again.

  Akiko: Hi guys. Nice pix, Targa.

  Saxony: Who is this?!

  Georjayna: SHE LIVES

  Akiko: Very funny.

  Me: Everything ok? We've been wondering when we'd hear from you.

  Akiko: All ok. Gotta run. Sorry, I only have a few seconds.

  Saxony: Wait!

  Me: What are you doing, intelligence work for a secret agency in Japan or something?

  But she was already gone. Whatever stories she was going to tell us when we got back had better be good.

  Mom and I were soon both yawning and she leaned over and asked me when I wanted to leave. There was a prepaid cab service available to deliver people to their homes and hotels as needed and it had now started up.

  I was about to answer that I was ready to go when I noticed that Mom's gaze went from my face to up over my head.

  I turned and looked up into Antoni's face. He held out his hand and asked, "How about that dance?"

  I swallowed my yawn. "Sure," I said as I put my hand in his and stood up.

  "Try not to look so excited," he laughed as he led me to the dance floor. "I promise to let you go home to bed after this. Seriously, what are you, eighty?" he teased.

  As soon as he put his hand on my waist and pulled me close I cursed my mother inwardly. His scent surrounded me and my thoughts no longer came in words or communicable ideas, only amorphous feelings and desires. I gripped his hand tightly and inhaled, revelling in the feeling of his palm against my back. It felt so natural there. I closed my eyes and moved closer to him. I lay my head on his chest and heard his beating heart, slow and steady. Heat radiated from him and enveloped me. I felt dizzy with longing and closed my eyes.

  "Be careful, people are watching," he said so that only I could hear, but not unkindly. He stepped back from me to re-establish a respectable dancing distance for this company.

  My eyes snapped open and I stood up straight. I fought for control. I envisioned the fingers of my mind fumbling to keep hold of a slippery, twisting thing; a wet eel otherwise known as rational thought.

  As we danced along the outer edge of the dance floor I stopped us when we were close to my table. "I'm so sorry Antoni, I can't." I reached up and kissed his cheek just to show anyone who might be watching that we weren't having an argument. The last thing I wanted was to create drama for him. But it took effort myself away; I wanted so much to leave my lips against his warm skin.

  For just a moment, as I turned to walk away from him, I saw the confusion and disappointment on his face. I'd hurt him, again. My heart squeezed painfully but I couldn't stay in his arms. I was bound to get him in trouble. I made my way to our table where my mom was already standing and holding out my wrap.

  "You ok?" she asked, quietly.

  I nodded tightly. "Let's go."

  She put an arm around me and we slipped along the side of the ballroom towards the exit. I felt Antoni's eyes following us to the door.

  Thirty

  Our gear had been loaded and all that remained, with less than twenty minutes to take off, was to board the plane. It was a clear day for flying; hot, sunny, and cloudless. Most of the Novak team had turned up to see us off. There were a lot of handshakes, a few resounding backslaps among the men, even the odd brotherly embrace.

  My mom shook hands with people in a perfunctory manner. It was interesting to see the dynamics working between her and the almost entirely male Novak team. They would shake hands with her and then linger by her awkwardly until they realized that she really was done saying goodbye to them, and then they'd move on looking a little bit sheepish.

  Martinius was there of course, thanking everyone graciously and exchanging well wishes with everyone. He lingered with me and my mom for a long time as we were saying goodbyes. When there was a break in the men swirling around us, he said, "I have a gift for you," He pulled an envelope from his breast and handed it to me. "I had an excerpt from Aleksandra Novak's diary translated for you. The section to do with Sybellen and the wreck." He kept his voice low and ensured no one was nearby when he'd said it.

  I gasped and took the thick envelope, stunned at his thoughtfulness. "Wow, Martinius," I said, opening the envelope and peeking in. "Thank you. How did you know that I was wishing I could read it?"

  He smiled, "I would if I were you. You'll be sure to let Antoni know when you've arrived back in Canada safely?" he said to me.

  I looked at him in surprise, wondering how much he knew about Antoni and I. "Of course I will," I replied.

  He nodded, his hand gripping his cane rather tightly. We watched my mother as she said goodbye to a few other people.

  "Promise an old man that you and your mother will come back one day," his eyes on my mother's back.

  I smiled. "I don't know if I can make that promise, Martinius," I answered. "But I can tell you that I would like that very much." I meant every word.

  I fought against stealing a look at Antoni every half minute as he moved through the crowd talking and laughing, shaking hands and wishing people luck.

  I was distracted when I saw a dark-haired, broad shouldered man from the Novak team approach my mother. He was sort of a rough looking character with a week's worth of black beard and hair that curled around his ears. He was deeply tanned and weather worn, but fit and strong. I couldn't recall seeing him at the party so my guess was that he was a crewman from one of the Novak vessels. Those guys worked outside all day long and had very tough jobs, according to Antoni. I wondered how he and my mom came to know each other.

  I watched him approach her and she gave him a warm smile which immediately made me suspicious. I watched them talk, their heads bent low towards each other. Then, shock of all shocks, they hugged. Mom hadn't hugged anyone, even Martinius. Who was this guy? I had been so preoccupied with my own life this summer that I had failed to ask my mother about what was going on in hers. I felt ashamed of how selfish I'd been. As they broke apart and finished their goodbye I moved through the crowd towards her, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  I lost my train of thought completely when Antoni's scent hit me. Half a second later he took my hand and pulled me around to face him. "Hi," he said, smiling down at me but not standing too close.

  I gently pulled my hand away. "Hi," I said as I tucked my loose hair behind my ears and crossed my arms over my chest.

  "So, I guess it's really happening. You're leaving," he murmured.

  I nodded. "We always knew I would."

  "Yeah, but somehow..." He looked past me, blinking in the sun. He shook his head and a wry smile touched his mouth. "I don't know, I thought maybe..."

  "What? That I would give up my life, my school, my friends, my family, my language and my country and move to Poland to be with you?" I regretted it even as it was pouring out of my mouth. Was that the siren bluntness or just my own bitterness talking? My mood soured. It wasn't fair. There was too much weighing on me. I was supposed to be thinking about finishing high school and choosing a university, not trying to figure out if I was about to make a huge mistake and walk away from the love of my life. I wanted to disappear into the ocean where all this stuff didn't matter and life was simple.

  He blinked in surprise. "Well, no. More like..." He paused and his eyes passed over my face, lingering on my eyes. "...I'd give up mine."

  He'd winded me. That was not
what I had been expecting. I wanted to slap him and hug him. I'd never let him give up everything he had here to come and be with me, that would be insanity. But my heart melted at the thought anyway.

  We had both frozen, looking into each other's face, until I couldn't look at him anymore and dropped my gaze to the centre of his chest.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  I blinked in surprise and looked up at him. "For what?" I asked.

  "For whatever I did that offended you."

  "No, Antoni. You didn't do anything." I was mortified that he was apologizing when he'd always been so perfect with me. "You just don't understand..."

  "Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, "it's not me it's you." He said it with a smile but I could also detect his pain.

  "It's true," I said, lamely.

  "Right," he said, as though he didn't believe me.

  I didn't know where to go from there, how could I explain to him how I felt without telling him what I was? So, I extended my hand to him the same way I'd seen my mom do, perfunctorily. "Good luck to you. I wish you all the best and I hope that you get what you want in life. Really I do, Antoni." I dropped my eyes again. I couldn't look at his face.

  My hand was stuck out in space all by itself for an uncomfortable moment. Finally, he took it but he didn't shake it, he just held it. "Send me a text when you get home, Targa. Please?" He was always so kind. No matter how abrupt I was with him he never failed to be kind. And then... it wasn't even a whisper, he just mouthed the words, "I love you." I was sure that he hadn't meant me to hear them because I hadn't been looking at him to be able to read his lips. But with my siren ears I heard his mouth form the words out of the air, loud and clear. I swallowed hard.

  Then he was gone; lost in the crowd.

  With his scent and presence gone I let out a long breath. I shoved thoughts of Antoni into the back of my mind to deal with later and resumed searching for my mom. The crowd was dispersing and the Bluejackets were boarding the jet. She was on the step leading up to the doorway and looking back at me with concern. She beckoned me to hurry up. She mouthed 'You ok?' at me and I nodded.

  I fell into line behind Eric, who was in a less surly mood than usual. He was chatting with Simon and the two of them were chuckling. Weird, they had barely gotten along all summer according to my mom. Why were they all chummy now? I tuned in to them. There was something forceful in Eric's voice, something just a little bit desperate.

  "Just imagine..." he was saying as we entered the plane in single file and started throwing bags under seats and into overhead bins. "A billion dollars. It's just sitting there, all lonely and waiting to be rescued."

  Simon laughed and said to Jeff, "Am I the only one who finds it ironic that the guy who is supposed to keep us out of danger is trying to convince us to go straight into it?" He was shaking his head. "It's a fool's errand," he said, slapping Eric on the back. "I think you've had a little too much of that Polish wodka this summer, Eric."

  Jeff laughed and Eric faked a laugh along with them as they settled themselves into their seats.

  Repeating Simon's sentiment in my head, was I the only one who could tell that Eric was just acting?

  We were on the same jet as the one we'd arrived on, and Mom had also chosen the same seats. I looked around and saw that everyone had gone back to their original seats, too. We were still a few rows behind Jeff and Eric. I made my way back to Mom and I noticed that Micah had his head cocked towards Eric as though he was listening. A frown creased his brow.

  I took the seat beside my mom, "Did you hear what Eric was saying?" I asked her as I moved the safety buckle out from under my bum.

  "Yeah, I heard," my mom said.

  "What's he talking about?" I asked.

  She shook her head, "Damned if I know." Then she yawned, "Seems like he's always on about some kind of foolishness these days."

  I studied my mom more closely and noticed how grim she looked, the line between her brows and the tightness to her mouth. "You alright, Mom? Can I get you anything?" I asked.

  "I'll survive, lovey," she replied. "Thanks for asking. I've got lots of water, earplugs, an eyeshade and a pillow. Unless you have a horse tranquilizer, I'm good to go. How are you?"

  "Good. Ready to go home. I guess."

  "Don't want to leave?" she asked.

  "I don't know." And I really didn't. I was both sad and relieved.

  "I know what you mean," she nodded, and looked out the window at the distant line of blue. "I like the Baltic. It's peaceful."

  "Yeah. Me too," I agreed. I looked around to make sure no one was listening in and then leaned in and said, "Martinius gave me an amazing gift."

  "Oh really?" She said, softening her tone to match mine.

  I pulled the envelope he'd given me from inside my jacket and handed it to her.

  "What's this?" She took the pages out and unfolded them. She scanned the first paragraph. When she realized what it was she looked over at me in shock. "The diary? He had it translated?"

  I nodded, "Just the part about Sybellen. Amazing, right?"

  "Seriously." She shook her head and folded it up. "I'd love to read it when you're finished."

  I stood and tucked the envelope back into my carry-on, planning to read it later in the flight.

  There was no talk during take off, everyone was focused out the window and enjoying the view as Poland fell away beneath us. I held Mom's hand as I felt her anxiety climb along with the plane. She's indestructible and fearless, but stick my mom in a plane and she became a nervous wreck. "Try to sleep, Mom," I said. I noted that although I was a mermaid now, too, I felt no different than I had ever felt on a plane. Granted, we'd only just taken off.

  She nodded and gave me a tired smile. She pulled the sleeping mask over her face and shifted to make herself comfortable. I listened as her breathing deepened and I knew she was out. I hoped for her sake that it lasted the entire flight home.

  After twenty minutes, I was starting not to feel well either. Heaviness was filling my limbs and chest, like there was a force that was trying to pull me down through the floor of the plane. My arms felt like they were made of iron and my head wanted to flop forward onto my chest because it was too heavy for my neck. I felt it creak and groan under the compression.

  So, now I knew. Flying did have an affect on my changed biology. I had a whole new level of appreciation for her hatred of flying. My eyelids drooped and a wave of nausea overtook me. I felt a headache creeping across my temples. I gave in to the heaviness, took a pillow and curled up in my seat using my mom's warm body to rest against. Within moments I slipped into a dense black cloud of unconsciousness that locked out the world.

  "It's never going to happen, now just let it go already!" A sharp voice startled me awake. I groggily opened my eyes and looked around, wondering if I'd dreamt it. I looked at my mom but she was still out. She had earplugs in.

  Micah noticed that I'd been shocked out of my nap. "It was just Simon," he said. "Go back to sleep."

  Curiosity fought drowsiness. My mouth felt like someone had been carpeting it while I slept. I took a big drink of water and felt slightly better. "What's going on?" I asked, tucking my water bottle back into the seat pocket in front of me.

  Micah shook his head, his face a mask of disapproval. He shifted in his seat and leaned toward me conspiratorially. Obviously, he'd been wanting to talk to someone about whatever was going on. "It's Eric. He's got this crazy idea in his head and he's been pestering Simon with it nonstop. I don't get it. He used to be so..." He took off his ball cap and scratched his head. "...rational. He was the guy we could all rely on to make smart decisions. You know, give the go ahead on the jobs that would net out in our favour. He was great at it. No one had better instincts than Eric. Aside from your mom of course, but she's a different story." He shook his head. "Now? He's turned into a huge risk-taker. Not a good quality for the analyst to have."

  "What does he want Simon to do?" I asked, my curiosity winning out over the de
sire to lay flat on the floor under my seat.

  "There's this legendary wreck in the North Atlantic," he began to explain. "It would be crazy expensive and dangerous to try and recover anything from it. Eric knows that better than anybody, but he's turned into some kind of cowboy."

  "What's the wreck?" I prodded. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be out of reach for my mom or I. As far as I knew, nothing in the ocean was off-limits for a mermaid.

  Micah's face lost its derision and he looked like the goofy guy that I liked. "Oh, it's awesome. I mean, I get it, I'm a wrecker. The Republic is famous in salvage circles. It makes everybody salivate."

  "The Republic? That's what it's called? What happened to her?" I took another swig of water, begging the cobwebs to clear.

  "Everyone knows about the Titanic, right?" he began.

  I nodded. "Sure, everyone and their dog."

  "Yeah, but it seems like only the dive community knows about The Republic. See, three years before The Titanic went down the White Star Line had another unsinkable ship. The RMS Republic. But in January of 1909, early one very foggy morning, The Republic was T-boned by another ship called The Florida, who had been lost in the fog and sailed 30 miles off course. Boom!" Micah said as he hammered his fist into his palm, making me jump.

  "Why wasn't it as big a story as the Titanic?" I asked, fascinated in spite of my pounding head and lead filled legs.

  "Well, it might have been at the time, it was all over the news because The Republic was a palatial ship too, carrying a lot of very wealthy people and valuable cargo. But it didn't capture the public's imagination the way the Titanic did, because the loss of life wasn't nearly as bad. Once the Titanic hit the news..." He blew on his fingertips and dispersed the air out with his fingers, illustrating quite well that the story had gone up in smoke. "Nobody wanted to hear anything about anything else. It was all Titanic, all the time. So The Republic just faded into history. Just like The Sybellen did."

  "Where did she go down?" I asked, wondering if my mom had ever been to the wreck site.

  "In the North Atlantic, same as The Titanic," he said. "The Republic was just going the other direction, back to Europe."