by Jade Kerrion
“They are stronger. They would have killed us all.”
But—
“They have already killed so many of us.” Galene snarled, baring her teeth. “The ocean is dying, not just because of their infected blood, but because there are fewer of us capable of undoing the damage. The Beltiamatu are killing the Nereids and Oceanids because they know we are the only ones who can truly stop them.” Galene shook her head, the long strands of her hair swaying in the water. “You can fight them and push them back, but only for a while. You are a Daughter of Air, and air cannot rule the water. You know the infinite balance of the universe will not permit it.”
The universe hasn’t been all that balanced recently.
“You can’t heal the ocean, Daughter of Air. Only a water elemental can.”
The truth was as obvious as it was painful. I know.
“Thank you for saving the least among us, but please don’t hold our apparent cowardice against us. Our greater command is to stay alive, to save the great mother. Somehow.” Her voice trembled; the current wavered. Galene glanced over her shoulder. The other Nereids had already vanished into the darkness.
Ashe rolled her eyes. I’m not going to hurt you.
Galene turned back to Ashe with a scowl on her face. “I do not fear you, Daughter of Air, but I dread what your return will do. The ocean has existed in balance for so long. Even the humans and their exploitation could not hurt the great mother the way the Beltiamatu now are. The ocean is struggling to regain its balance, but now that you are here, you are making it worse. You alone are capable of riling the Beltimatu in a way no one else can.”
You overestimate me.
“You underestimate the king’s anger. The Beltiamatu do not forget or forgive easily. You should know. You were once one of them. In many ways, you still are. The Beltiamatu do not care about balance.”
Perhaps balance isn’t the answer. Perhaps the balance needs to tip over and toss out all the troublemakers.
Galene’s eyes went wide. “That is not the way of the water.”
We do stuff a little differently up there.
“You are more dangerous than the Beltiamatu you are trying to stop. We will be watching you.”
Go ahead and watch. If you ever think about trying to do something about it, let me know. Ashe knew her response was snarky, but she was through with the timidity of the Nereids, even if they were right about one thing—the Nereids and the Oceanids, the true water elementals, were the only ones who could undo the damage done to the ocean. Air could not trump water—not in the endless spread and depths of the sea. Ashe would never be able to eke out a permanent victory against the Beltiamatu. She needed the Nereids, with their water magic, fighting alongside her, but how could she possibly entice those timid nymphs to war?
Why would any Nereid brave the wrath of the merfolk, and defy her nature by fighting instead of hiding?
Was victory impossible?
Ashe’s near limitless power in air did the ocean no good. The thought made her grind her teeth as she broke the surface of the water. Kalymnos was about three miles away, a leisurely ninety-minute swim, without any elemental magic propelling her along. The wind swept out, circling the water and skimming over the island before returning to her.
It whispered a warning. Someone was watching her.
Chapter 15
“Why aren’t you asleep, Varun?”
Varun glanced over his shoulder as his mother emerged from the pools of darkness along the corridor. “Nothing. Just restless.” No need to mention that he had been woken by a low cawing of an annoyed parrot, and had looked out of his bedroom window in time to see Ashe dive off the cliff. Panic sent him rushing after her, but he saw nothing when he looked over the edge of the precipice.
He gritted his teeth. What the hell was he worried about? This was Ashe. She could out swim almost anything in the water, including mermaids. He was being an idiot. What could possibly hurt her?
She did not strike him as the suicidal type, either—the type that would leap over the cliff to her death, whatever the reason. Varun drew a deep breath, but his heart rate skittered. His thoughts quavered, no longer certain. The scant facts he knew about Ashe did not fit into a coherent picture, and the question clung to the tip of his tongue, unasked. He did not think he was ready for the answer.
Varun returned to the villa, but remained at his window, watching for Ashe. He heard the shuffle of his mother’s feet in the corridor. A smile touched his lips. Marina Zale was a night owl, always moving around the house at night, checking the doors and windows, making sure everyone was safe in bed. He wondered if she checked in on her guests too. Had she found Ashe’s bed empty?
Marina looked in through the open door of his bedroom before joining him on the window seat. She folded her robes around her pajamas. “What is that in your hand, Varun?”
He held up the framed pencil drawing of the Little Mermaid he had taken from the study.
Marina sighed. “Don’t start with your dad, you hear?”
“Start what?”
“On how he’s crazy, like the rest of his family, believing in mermaids.”
“You don’t believe either, do you, Ma?”
“I didn’t—not having been raised on this island, but I’ve lived here for a long time, Varun. At first, it was easier to go along with it, or I’d have been so busy arguing with everyone that I’d never get anything done. Then I realized it didn’t hurt anyone; it’s like children believing in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. No harm done, and if they’re happy believing, then let them.”
Varun’s eyes narrowed. He sensed that his mother’s story wasn’t quite done. “And then what happened?”
“Then you start to see the hints of evidence. The inexplicable storms in the Levantine Sea. The ships that come back with torn nets, the nylon ropes sliced by something sharp and precise. For the years and decades I’ve been here—even centuries, if you listen to the old tales—something has been trying to keep people out of the Levantine Sea.” She glanced down at the framed drawing. “Are they mermaids? Who knows? If they are, they’re nothing like the stories of them. Far as I can recall, there have been drownings aplenty in the Levantine Sea, but no stories of miraculous saves.”
“Maybe the story was wrong,” Varun murmured. “Maybe mermaids aren’t dewy-eyed fish-tailed maidens looking for human husbands.” He traced his hand over the thin layer of glass that protected the drawing from moisture and exposure.
“Why are you holding on to that picture?”
“Nothing, Ma. Just thinking. Wondering.”
“Is everything all right with you and Ondine?”
“Why do you ask, Ma?”
“Because she’s alone in her room.”
Varun’s eyebrows drew together. “Ma. Do we have to talk about this?”
“About what? Why you’re not intimate with your girlfriend?”
“Ma!”
“She’s anxious, Varun. Haven’t you noticed the way she watches the captain?”
Varun shook his head. “Ondine thinks the captain is some kind of witch.” And she’s not too far wrong.
“Is there something between you and the captain?”
“Ma, this isn’t an appropriate conversation. I’m not cheating on Ondine, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But things aren’t all right either, are they?”
Varun sighed. “No, they haven’t been. They haven’t been for a while.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. He was twenty-eight. Whining to his mother about his relationship issues was just not done—whatever his age.
Marina sighed, the sound tinged with laughter. “Once you had no secrets from me.”
Varun chuckled, low and ironic. Ondine wasn’t even his biggest secret. Ashe was.
His mother glanced out of the window then settled more comfortably into the seat. “Your father and I had just been married for five months when we left Athens and retu
rned to Kalymnos, and then, I discovered something he hadn’t told me earlier. He had been the island’s most eligible bachelor, and several of the local women still considered him theirs. One in particular was especially rude and did everything she could to put me down in front of him. Told him I couldn’t swim—”
“Which is still true,” Varun murmured.
“Or keep my garden alive.”
“Also true.”
“Or cook.”
“Well, you fixed that,” Varun noted.
“The point is, she was hateful. I despised her until I saw how she looked at me, with envy and fear in her eyes. I’d taken something she had set her heart on. She had built her dreams around him. But if a man to whom she had given so much could so easily let her go, what was she worth as a person? She didn’t know, and helplessness made her angry. It made her strike out at me.”
“And you’re saying Ondine is way out of her comfort zone, and somehow thinks she’s competing against a coolly competent captain, who happens to be the only other woman on the ship?” Varun shook his head. “Maybe Ashe’s presence made the situation worse, but things haven’t been right for a while. Ondine and I don’t belong in the same world. For a while, we thought we could make it work anyway, but I’m not sure anymore. She wants room service in six-star hotels and shopping sprees in Milan. I want to be on a dive ship with no due date back to port. And whatever you think, Ma, it’s not an intimacy thing. The quarters on the Veritas are tiny, but that’s just an excuse. The backseats of cars are smaller and that never did stop me before.” He grimaced. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I always knew about you and your car.”
He drew a deep breath and tried not to think too hard about all his youthful sexual escapades. “Ondine’s obsessed about some unseen danger in the water. She’s clingy, and I don’t even think it’s for the right reasons. She says she’s worried I’ll get hurt, but that’s not it. Her fear is making her irrational. She even accused Ashe of witchcraft.”
Marina shook her head. “The captain is not quite all together, but she’s not a witch.”
“Ma!” Varun’s eyes flashed wide. “What do you mean?”
“Come now, Varun. Tell me you’ve noticed that the captain is a little different.”
“Different’s not a crime, Ma.”
She patted his leg. “Of course it is not, Varun. You’ve always been attracted to different. Your first serious girlfriend—what was her name?”
“Millie. And she wasn’t different—just a hippie about several decades too late.”
“And now, Ondine, of course.”
“Ondine?”
“She’s different, too.”
“She’s rich.”
Marina’s eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting I’m prejudiced because she’s living off a trust fund larger than the combined income of every family on this island?”
“Or is it because her father’s company owns our home, and our business, and just about every damn thing we have?”
“This isn’t about the bad business decisions made two generations ago, Varun. It’s just about Ondine. She’s different. She does and says all the things you would expect a rich, sheltered girl to say, but she’s watchful. Her eyes don’t match up with her image. She probably sees more than you expect.”
“And the captain’s eyes?”
“They’re different,” Marina said. “Much too different. The color changes.”
“What?”
“The blue and green of her eyes swirl like restless waves, and the flecks of gold are like the rays of first light breaking over the sea.” Marina followed his gaze out of the window. “Is that someone out there in the water?”
Varun nodded. “The captain.”
“Alone? At this time? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I don’t think she’s afraid of being alone, or of the sea.”
“She’s going to want something warm when she gets back. I’ll get some hot chocolate going. I’ll bring you some too, Varun.” Marina bustled to her feet.
He smiled, relaxing. Some things did not change.
“Whipped cream and chocolate shavings on yours, right? You still like those?”
“Yeah, Ma.”
“It’ll just be a few minutes. You put on your robe now, you hear? Don’t catch a chill sitting at the window. And your slippers too.”
No, things did not change at all. Varun chuckled. There was no one like his mother. She still watched over him as if he were a five-year-old child in need of her love and care.
Then there were women—females—like Ashe. Solitary and indifferent.
It took all kinds, he supposed, to make the world go round. Even ones like Ashe.
Even if she was exactly and precisely not his type…
Ashe’s hair was still damp at the tips when she walked in through the side door of the villa. She had had to go the long way around across the beach and along the winding path up the hill, instead of propelling herself up the cliff on a column of air. According to her chatty little breeze, Varun was watching her from a window. Who knew who else was up at such a ridiculous time of the night?
“Crazy,” Jinn agreed.
If she could sneak back to her room—
Soft footsteps, however, met her in the corridor. The dim light shone upon Marina’s face as she held up a cup. Steam and the delicious aroma of hot chocolate wafted from its surface. “You must be chilled after your swim. Would you like something to warm you up?”
Jinn, perched on Ashe’s shoulder, cawed, “Thank you,” as Ashe wrapped her fingers around the large mug.
“You love the ocean, don’t you?” Marina asked. “Only those who do venture out when the ocean is at its most solitary and dangerous to keep it company.”
Ashe’s brow furrowed. She had not quite thought of it that way before, but Marina was right. Most people frolicked in the ocean during the day and avoided it at night, as if the sea became dangerous just because the sun was no longer in the sky. Ashe could have assured anyone who cared to ask that the Beltiamatu were as aggressive during the day as at night, but humans were so attuned to light that they associated it with safety.
“Varun loves the sea too,” Marina continued. Her gaze rested on the sea, on the white caps of the waves breaking on the rocks. “He was always meant for the ocean, but after his sister died, he stayed away for many years.” Her chest dipped on a sigh. “I didn’t try to make him return. He wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready either. I’d already lost a child to the sea. I could not have borne it if I’d lost another.” She met Ashe’s eyes. “But when he returned to the ocean, I was glad. It was meant to be. He was finally back on the path meant for him. As his mother, I knew it.” She pressed her hand to her stomach, as if remembering when she had carried him close. “Nothing can keep him from loving the ocean, however wild, dangerous, and mysterious she is.” She drew a deep breath. “My only prayer is that he stays safe—that he does not join his sister where I cannot follow.” Marina met Ashe’s eyes and offered her a shaky smile. “I am sorry. You don’t need to listen to my worries. They’re just a mother’s silly fears. We don’t ever stop worrying about our children, no matter how old or capable they are.” She patted Ashe’s hand. “You just take that hot chocolate off to bed now. Stay warm, and make sure your hair is dry before you sleep or you’ll wake with a headache.”
Ashe smiled at Marina’s back as the older woman bustled down the corridor to the master bedroom. It was probably best not to tell Marina that, as a mermaid, she had slept for years on wet hair and never woken with a headache. Facts did not detract from the good intent with which Marina’s advice had been offered.
The prince’s mother, Ashe recalled, had been neither kindly nor welcoming, and the prince’s father was often absent from the responsibilities of managing his small island-state. The prince himself, who looked like a less-handsome version of Varun in poor light and from certain angles, had been
frivolous—preferring parties and dances to serious work and study. Ashe’s breath whispered out in a sigh as she traced the intricate woodwork on the walls. The family home was less polished now than it had been, but just like the Zale family, it had gained a certain aged beauty. The family stock had improved in spite of the decline of their fortunes.
Varun’s voice called out quietly. “Enjoy your midnight swim?”
She turned to face him and tossed her thoughts to Jinn. Her parrot cackled, “Enjoy the view?”
“Not really. All I felt was the whoosh of air after you leaped off the cliff.”
“And you kept watching.”
“To make sure you were all right. You were underwater for a while before you surfaced.” His tone was casual, but his knuckles, gripping a matching mug, were white.
Ashe’s eyes narrowed. “Were you…worried?”
Varun flushed and looked away. “A little.”
“What could hurt me?”
He seemed to turn a few options over in his mind. “I’m not sure, really.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Anyway, enjoy the hot chocolate. I’m off to bed, for real, this time. I have to be rested for my dive tomorrow.”
“Do you know where exactly you’re planning your dive?”
“I gave the coordinates to Jackson before we left the ship. I don’t recall them off the top of my head. I can check though.”
Ashe waved him away. “Time enough for that tomorrow.” Her eyes narrowed. She had plenty of time to make sure Varun would not dive anywhere near Shulim.
Their eyes met, a moment before he closed his bedroom door, and her thoughts strayed off course. When was the last time anyone had worried about her?
Chapter 16
“Weird waters,” was Jackson’s first muttered comment to Ashe when she joined him at the bridge of the Veritas the next morning.
Jinn flapped his wings and flew off Ashe’s shoulder to rest on his perch in the middle of the room.
Ashe signed the words, and her parrot spoke for her. “How so?”