Bride of the Sea: A Little Mermaid Retelling (Otherworld Book 3)

by Emma Hamm

  In one last attempt to save Manus, she shoved him towards the surface.

  The merrow man dragged her back down to the ocean floor where the others waited. Manus broke through the surface, his legs kicking wildly as he kept himself afloat.

  Just before she sank too far down, he ducked under the waves to stare down at her. If she had been on land, tears would have streaked down her cheeks. Instead, the entire ocean became a symbol of her sorrow.

  She reached her hand out for him even as the merrow men pulled her into the abyss.

  A Ship On The Horizon

  Manus crawled onto the white sand shore, coughing up mouthful after mouthful of water. The sea had tried to take him again, and this time he hadn’t thought he’d evade her. However, once again, his mistress sent him back to the land.

  He curled his fingers in the earth.

  “Where did they come from?” he coughed. “And where did they take—”

  He spun, sat hard on his hip, and looked out to sea. The waves were calmer than he remembered, lapping gently at the land. It was such an innocent scene although he now knew the face of the danger the ocean hid.

  Guardians. Merrow men. What other horrors lurked just out of reach?

  A wave splashed foam onto his foot. Skin crawling, he backed up until he was far away from the tide. Manus wasn’t certain he would ever look at the sea the same way again.

  Saoirse hadn’t exaggerated when she called the merrow men ugly. They were monstrous creatures. Their wide gaping mouths, eyes popping out of their heads, leathery skin, and claws that scratched at his arms.

  Absently, he rubbed a hand down his bicep and flicked away the watery blood. He would heal unless their claws were tipped with poison, which he doubted. Though the creatures were frightening, they appeared more brutish than evolved.

  He shivered again and drew his legs to his chest.

  Saoirse's face flashed in his mind. She reached for him as they dragged her down, and she was so afraid. Manus had tried to protect her, but they were many and he was only one.

  He’d failed her. They took her back to wherever horrid creatures like that came from. What could he do?

  If he were a better man, he would swear to go find her. He would trawl the oceans with a net searching for the next merrow man he could find. He’d track down a guardian and force it to take him down to her kingdom so he could fight her father with a sword.

  But Manus was none of those men. He valued his own life far too much to risk it for a merrow.

  Even one who had saved his life.

  A quiet snort echoed in his ear and a warm weight settled against his side. Manus lifted his arm and draped it over the eerie green and white shoulders of the cù sìth.

  “Hello, Mac Lir. I wondered where you had gone off to.”

  The fae snorted again and stared out to sea.

  “Yeah, me too.” Manus glanced in the same direction, but nothing disturbed the strangely still seas. “We’ll keep watch for her. Maybe she’ll escape from them.”

  She didn’t.

  Manus waited for three more weeks with the faerie dog at his side. They would each leave in intervals, gathering food and water from whatever they could find. Without the merrow providing for them, it was far more difficult to stay alive.

  The isle allowed Manus to pass through to the interior. He found little food, less fresh water, and nothing useful for escape. Every now and then, he would hear a strange chirping sound, but he couldn’t find the owner of the sound.

  The Fae were toying with him. He knew this isle must be overrun with their kind, invisible and impossible to catch even if he tried.

  At the last moment when his strength was about to break, he stumbled from the brush to find the cù sìth standing with its hackles raised. Its lips rose in a snarl, bright teeth shining in the sunlight.

  Manus shaded his eyes and nearly fell in shock. Outlined far in the distance was the clear shape of a ship. He would know the tall masts anywhere.

  Something in his being heated. Though the sea was dangerous and its creatures wild, his blood called for adventure. For freedom. For something other than this gods-forsaken isle, and a lost merrow who haunted his dreams.

  “Mac Lir, enough!”

  The faerie stilled, growling deep in its throat.

  “Go get ‘em boy. Bring them to me.”

  The faerie charged forward and dove beneath the waves. Manus didn’t know if it were possible for a cù sìth to communicate with any man. He hoped it was.

  Exhaustion weakened his knees. He fell onto his hands and reminded himself to inhale. His lungs would work if he forced them. His stomach would quiet if he bade it, and the shaking muscles would build back up if he found salvation.

  A ship. There was a ship.

  He only needed to stay alive for a little while longer.

  Heartbeats passed, and still Manus stared into the sand. His arms shook, but he refused to fall onto his face. He would wait on hands and knees for the men from the ship. He would not sink any farther than that.

  He didn't know how long he waited, but eventually his ears pricked at sounds. Oars dipped into the water nearby, sprinkling droplets as they hit the surface. The hull of the boat scraped against sand in a harsh grinding sound. Boots hit the water, followed by the grunt of a man as he pulled the small boat ashore.

  Manus listened to the crunching sounds of a man walking towards him. Heavy, sure, strong.

  All the things he would have been if he hadn’t starved for three weeks.

  He heaved himself onto his haunches with the last of his energy, listing backwards as his head lolled. His hands settled on his thighs and he watched the large man approach.

  Strange, he hadn’t thought to see a man with such coloring. The sailor was tall and broad, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. The mane of gold shook around his head like that of the lion Manus had seen once in his life.

  The stranger crouched, looked Manus up and down, and said, “Are you dead yet?”

  “No.”

  “Can you make it to the ship?”

  “I can.”

  “And you’ll work?”

  “I’ve done so my entire life.”

  The behemoth of a man nodded. “Then you’re lucky a cù sìth is willing to help you. The mutt stays here.”

  “That’s the one thing I will not allow,” Manus croaked through cracked lips. “Mac Lir stays with me.”

  The other man arched a brow. “The god of the sea?”

  “I named him myself.”

  “An accurate name if the beast approached you in the same way.” He stared at the faerie and shrugged. “He’s your responsibility if you take him on this journey. We sail for Uí Néill, and you’ll be dropped off there.”

  “That’s good,” Manus said with a tired nod. “That’s home.”

  “You’re a lucky man.”

  He knew it. Manus had always been blessed with luck, from the first beating at the hands of another boy who tripped on his own feet and fell off the docks. He might be broken and starved, but Manus always came out on top.

  Manus groaned as the blonde man wedged a shoulder underneath his arm and yanked him to standing. The ocean grabbed at his feet, stroking gentle waves along his calves.

  He imagined it was apologizing.

  I’m sorry for hurting you.

  I’m sorry for killing your friends.

  I’m sorry for taking her away from you.

  If he were a stronger man, he would tell the sea they were over. Done. He couldn’t remain loyal to such a woman who would take everything he loved. Repeatedly, the sea took and took. Yet, here he was.

  The blonde grunted, shoved the boat from the shore, and leapt into the it. “There’s a blanket at your feet. If you’re a smart man, you’ll grab it.”

  Manus did not move.

  “Either stubborn or dumb then, which are you?”

  “Why did you come?”

  “Dog didn’t give us much of a choice.”

 
; “Why?” Manus repeated.

  He looked up and met the icy gaze of the Nord. Viking, by his guess. Now that his mind was clearing with fresh salt air, he could see the twisted braids and beads in the man’s beard. It was too far south for such a ship. And yet, here they were.

  The Viking nodded. “In my land, a creature such as that is wild. I wanted to meet the man who tamed the faerie.”

  “It’s not tame.”

  “It comes at your beck and call.”

  “I asked; it agreed to help.”

  “That’s a dangerous game to play with the Fae,” the Viking chuckled. He picked the oars up in massive hands and rowed. “You know they like to hold favors over our heads?”

  “I know the old legends well.”

  “You should not have made a deal with the cù sìth.”

  “It’s my business, Viking.”

  “It’s your head,” he corrected. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me. But if you’re going to be on my ship, you keep that dog away from my men. I'll have no faeries bringing bad luck onto my journey.”

  Manus nodded. He didn’t want to share he too carried faerie blood. Was that why he was still alive?

  Arturo’s voice whispered in his mind, “They’ll spare you boy, you’re a faerie. Like them. Just tell my wife and child I love them, and your debts will be paid.”

  He had a feeling that the debts on his soul could never be repaid.

  The ocean swelled and guided the boat towards the Viking ship. His vision blurred, and for a moment he thought he saw her in the water. Dark hair like seaweed and a smile on her face that would break any man’s heart.

  “How did you get past the guardian?”

  “The water beast?” The Viking grinned, and his teeth appeared pointed for a moment. “They know better than to attack a Viking ship. We do not pass through often, but we have tasted their hide too many times for them to attack us.”

  “They fear you?”

  “I like to call it mutual respect.”

  Manus wasn’t so sure about that. The Vikings didn’t seem the respectful type, even as they hauled him onto the ship. They grasped his clothes with hands that were too strong. They were too tall, too large; they had more mass to them than any man he’d seen before.

  For a few moments, he feared he wasn’t aboard a ship with Vikings at all. He worried they were Tuatha dé Danann, faeries who were here to steal him away.

  Then they clapped each other on the back, swore, pissed off the side of the ship and he knew they were men. And men he knew how to deal with.

  Manus sank onto a pile of drying nets. Mac Lir leapt out of the small boat and into the waters. The Vikings shouted, pointing at the Fae beast swimming in the middle of the sea.

  But Manus saw something else entirely. He watched the beast’s eyes change color, become more human and infinitely old.

  “Thank you, Manannán mac Lir,” he murmured.

  The dog sank beneath the waves and he wondered whether or not it was a beast at all. Faeries were shape shifters at heart. Was it possible Manannán mac Lir himself had guided Manus towards Saoirse?

  He sank his fingers into the thick netting and tried not to stare into the ocean again.

  Monsters lie in wait there. Monsters with no form, eyes, face, nor mouth. The worst monster lurking in those depths was that of his own guilt.

  “What have you done?”

  “Athair, please.”

  “Do not speak! It was a question I did not want answered.”

  Her father slashed his hand through the water. The current pushed her back into her brother’s chest.

  Saoirse flinched forward so she wouldn’t feel the rough skin against her back. The warts, the lesions, the hated scales that weren’t human at all. She’d had a taste of beauty and wanted nothing to do with their tainted forms.

  “You were with a human,” her father growled. “You know our laws.”

  She twisted her fingers in front of her. Silent, as he wished her to be.

  “You’ve pushed me too far, Saoirse. I would have given you the choice of any merrow man you desired. But this? I will have no more of this foolish behavior.”

  “I have no desire for any merrow man.”

  “What did you say?”

  His face turned mottled green.

  Saoirse heard the gasps of her sisters, some covered their faces in fear of the resulting outburst from their father. Yet, she couldn’t stop now.

  “I will not marry a merrow man. I love someone else.”

  “Love? Love is a figment of human imaginations to make marriage more palatable.”

  “I know love is real. I felt it when I was with him, and I will not survive without it.”

  “You will survive just fine,” he spat. “No daughter of mine is so weak that she cannot survive marriage. Take her away. Lock her up so she cannot run before her marriage to Craig.”

  “Craig?” she gasped as her brother’s arm locked across her shoulders. “I will not marry him. I will not marry anyone!”

  “You will do as I say.”

  “Athair! You cannot do this to me! Please!”

  She expected him to yell, to argue, perhaps even to hit her. But he did none of the things she expected.

  Her father turned his face from his youngest child and held up his hand so he could not see her beg. “Take her away.”

  “Wait.” she whispered. “Athair, you must look at me.”

  Warts scraped across the delicate skin of her chest. She struggled against her brother’s grip, her tail wildly writhing.

  “Athair! You will look at me if you condemn me to a life of unhappiness! Athair!”

  Her father turned his back, straightened his spine, and remained silent.

  Saoirse struggled the entire trip out of the cave. She bit at her brother’s arms, drawing blood and spitting green ooze into the water like an animal. Drool hung in strands around her shoulders, leaking from his oversized lips. Milky white and mucus thick, they reminded her where she was.

  Underwater. In the depths of the ocean where no one could hear her scream.

  Her sisters trailed along behind them. They wept into their hands but watched her with heated gazes. They wanted to know the story of her love. What it felt like, how it had happened, what manner of beast had infected her with such an emotion.

  Love wasn’t real. Any merrow knew that. Love was something that merrows liked to dream of. It was a fairytale, something that perhaps the High Fae experienced but Lesser Fae knew was impractical.

  It led down paths that were dangerous. People did foolish things while drunk on love, bitter spats, fights, arguments, and eventual death because the longing that came with it was equally horrible.

  Her sisters likely thought she would die. And perhaps she would.

  Saoirse could feel the burning pain of loss deep within her chest. It seared through her flesh and bone until she was certain everyone could see the embers glowing. She hated them. She hated every creature that stood between herself and Manus.

  A sob rocked through her until she curled up in a tiny ball with a limp tail trailing like a banner of defeat. Her brother didn’t care. He thought she was reckless, just like her father.

  And perhaps she was. If she hadn’t saved the human, then she might be happy with the idea of a merrow man like Craig. He would provide for her. He would take care of her in his own way.

  She would never need to worry about food. She wouldn’t miss her family because he brought her to land.

  But she would never experience adventures or the world above the waves.

  “It’s not that bad,” her brother grumbled. “You’ll be like the rest of the merrows. Married with children and lots to do. You’ll forget all about your human as soon as you’re busy with your own family.”

  “I don’t want to forget. I want to remember him for the rest of my life.”

  He snorted. “No, you don’t. You’ll hold onto the memories for a while, but then they’ll fester. Old woun
ds either bleed until you run dry, or you heal them up and only pick at them when you want to feel the pain.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  Saoirse said the words with poison laced in their tone. She meant to hurt him. To make him bleed as she was bleeding.

  She never expected the answering hum that twisted in her gut and echoed through her spine.

  “You aren’t the only one who has experienced loss, little sister. Now grow up and bear it like the rest of us.”

  Individual currents wrapped themselves around her. They hugged her with a gentleness that brought tears to her eyes. Even the ocean wanted to apologize for taking part in her loss.

  What kind of life did she live? Her people were suffering from hatred, and she could do nothing about it. They continued to feast upon hatred, anger, loss, and there was no stopping the addiction. It spread from parent to child, generation after generation.

  She was only one among many who would feel the pain of the merrows spread through her veins.

  Bars made of stone loomed in front of them. They only used the cage for the worst of their kind. For merrows who stole, who harmed, who killed.

  Thankfully, no one else was inside. She remembered a hard time in their existence, when she was just a little minnow, when there had been no space at all between the bars. Flesh, fins, and knobby arms had stuck between the bars, searching for the smallest amount of space possible.

  That wouldn’t be her fate.

  Saoirse sighed and allowed her brother to push her into the cage. The quiet thunk of the lock turning in place made her flinch.

  “Just stop getting into trouble, Saoirse,” he grumbled. “You’re making it worse for all of us.”

  He turned and drifted away until she could no longer see him.

  Shivering, she gripped her arms and sank down onto the sea floor. Coral bit between her scales, but she didn’t care. Her life was about to change forever, and she had no say at all in it.

  What was she to do? She couldn’t escape from the cage. She couldn’t change her father’s mind. Her future turned dark and gray.

  She wasn’t certain life was worth living like this, not when she’d had a taste of what it could be.