by Dima Zales
“Aazuria, my children were taken from me! They were turned against me. I think I was fated to understand the pain my mother went through when she lost me.”
“She was out of her mind,” Aazuria said tenderly. “She never fully recovered.”
“It is the Ramaris family curse,” Alcyone said sorrowfully, “to lose our children and miss most of their lives.” She looked across the room at Trevain. “At least my mother knows I had no other choice but to run.”
“Mom…” Trevain began, hurt by her truthful accusation. “I didn’t know…”
“You didn’t know that I was a fugitive sea-dweller displaced to land?” Alcyone asked sharply. “You didn’t know that I could breathe underwater just as Aazuria can? I told you everything, Trevain. My good, smart boy! I told you my memoirs when you were a baby and you thought they were magical fairytales. I read you countless volumes I had collected for my personal library. I told the stories again when you were older, and you believed I was schizophrenic.”
He stood in dazed silence as everything came together in his mind. The accent. Aazuria’s accent which he had detected when he first met her was the same accent in his mother’s voice. She looks like she’s eighteen but talks like she’s eighty. The familiar kiss of the white-haired woman in the water who looked nothing like Aazuria and yet everything like her. I am a fucking mermaid. His legs and the swimming pool. I am one of the fastest swimmers in the world. Her mysterious disappearance for weeks to an unknown destination, leaving no address and taking no luggage. I have been on many boats; so many kinds of boats that I cannot remember all of their names.
He gazed at her as though seeing her for the first time. It is rooted deep in your bones; the water calls out to you until it causes you physical pain unless you come to it.
“He did not know, Alcie,” Aazuria said softly as she watched the realization dance across Trevain’s face.
“Oh, God. You mean he didn’t know that you were…” Alcyone was frantic. “I thought that since you were marrying him… Aazuria, my dear! How could you not tell him?”
Aazuria had been looking at Trevain with fear in her eyes. “I thought that he would find me to be crazy. I think I was right,” she whispered.
“Mrs. Murphy!” called out a fat nurse who entered the room. “Time for your medication, dearie. Oh, I see you have visitors! Well, they’re going to have to leave before you get too excited! We wouldn’t want you to get overexcited now, would we?”
“God forbid,” Alcyone said sarcastically. “The grotesquely bland white walls of this room are already too much excitement for me to handle. They don’t glisten quite like your ice castle, do they Aazuria?”
“She’s always been the funny one. I think a double dosage is in order today since she’s on about that ice kingdom again. Out, out you two!” said the nurse, ushering Trevain and Aazuria out of the room.
Before Aazuria allowed the heavyset nurse to bowl her over, she exchanged rapid hand signals with Alcyone. A brilliant smile illuminated every crease of the old woman’s face, and she responded in sign language, while nodding vigorously.
Aazuria smiled too, and continued signing until the nurse had pushed them out of the room and shut the door between them. Aazuria leaned on the door, thinking about what a strange thing fate was. She thought about all the coincidences that had led to her being here, and she thought of the smile on Visola’s face when she would first see her daughter again. It was all she could do to keep from getting teary-eyed again.
“What did you say to her?” Trevain demanded. What he imagined he saw her sign was something along the lines of, “if she knew… burn this place down… rip it apart.” But he was sure that he had misread their hand signals. He did not think that his kind Aazuria would ever—but then he did not know her very well after all.
The angry sound of his voice snapped her out of her dreamlike state. She straightened, and erased the smile from her face. She thought about the fact that Alcyone was being given medication at that very moment because she missed her home. She thought of how cruel the land had been to her friend.
“I do not wish to speak about it,” she answered.
“That’s my mother in there—my sick, elderly mother. I have a bad feeling that you’re going to…”
“Sick?” Aazuria snapped, in the most vicious tone she had ever used with him. Then, realizing how she sounded, she brought a hand to her head and exhaled. “I am sorry. Trevain, let us not talk about this right now. I am upset and I fear I might lose my temper.”
“Whatever,” he responded indignantly, turning his back on her and heading for the elevator. “You’re the princess.”
Hearing the hatred in his tone turned her stomach over. She feared that she had lost him with all of her lies. But that was hardly her greatest concern at the moment; she had found Alcyone Ramaris.
31
Trevain and Aazuria had driven the entire way home from the psychiatric hospital in silence. He occasionally shook his head in disbelief and sighed. She noticed this motion out of the corner of her eye, although she chose to keep her posture erect and regal.
She was angry.
The more she thought about it, the more she felt nauseous. He had kept his mother locked up in a tiny room for his entire life because he thought she was insane. All the books about mermaid lore in his library had belonged to Alcyone—it all made sense now. She had been trying to educate him, and share this essential part of her heritage, but he had been unwilling to listen. If he would not listen to years of his mother’s teaching, what made her imagine that he would ever grow to accept her for what she was?
Aazuria gazed at the sea as they drove along the street to his house. Every time her thoughts drifted to the mess between her and the man driving the Range Rover, she quickly steered her focus back to Alcyone. She needed to take action. Looking forward, Aazuria managed to observe Trevain’s motions out of the corner of her eye. She observed the way his hands moved rigidly and jerkily on the steering wheel. She observed the way his foot alternatingly slammed down on the two pedals. He was evidently angry too.
She jumped a little when he finally stopped the car and slammed the gear shift forward to put the car into “Park.” Aazuria eyed his massive fist, clenched tightly around the head of the shifter. His veins were bulging, and each sinew was taut. Despite the latent aggression apparent in the situation, she could not help thinking about how attractive his hands were. She pushed the thought away and watched him turn the keys and rip them out of the ignition.
He waited until they had entered the house before he said what was on his mind. “You expect me to believe that you are a fucking mermaid!” His voice boomed throughout the house.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I said those precise words months ago and you failed to believe me.”
“God, Aazuria. Do you seriously think… An underwater kingdom! A mermaid!”
“What is so surprising about this?” she asked impertinently.
“How about the fact that I can’t comprehend such things exist at all!”
“And whose fault is that?” she asked. “We learned today that even after being presented with literature on the subject for years—carefully educated by a highborn sea-dweller, you still failed to believe or understand. What could I have done?”
“How about telling me the truth about what’s been happening in the water! If you had told me exactly why you didn’t want me to go to work that day—maybe a man wouldn’t have died!”
“Would you have listened? I said everything I could to make you hear me, Trevain! Every time I have mentioned Adlivun you laughed at me. So I followed you to try and keep you safe, and I nearly died because of your insubordination!”
“Wow! Well, excuse me, your majesty, for not obeying the commands of your royal highness.” He bowed mockingly, infuriating her immensely. “I would have acted differently if I knew you were the fucking queen of mermaids.”
“That is not the technical term,” she
informed him in a deprecating tone.
“Do you want a euphemism?” he asked. “Should I call you terrestrially-challenged?”
“This isn’t a disability,” Aazuria whispered through clenched teeth. “It’s a blessing. We are aquatically-gifted. I am a human being! I may come from a different country, but that does not give you the right to be so disrespectful.”
“Your people are the reason that three of my men are dead!” Trevain shouted.
“Those were not my people! Those were auxiliary enemy forces.”
“You expect me to just take that at face value? Not only are you the queen of some imaginary kingdom that no one has ever heard of—but you’re at war with some sort of enemy. Forgive me if I’m having some difficulty processing this information; you haven’t been very honest with me up until this point.”
“Good Sedna, you said you would trust me!” she shouted. “This is… oh, it is impossible! I cannot take this.”
“Okay, let’s cool down. We’ve never had a fight before.” Trevain moved over to the console table which was kept stocked with fresh flowers. He pressed his hand against the marble surface and stared at the blossoms in order to calm himself. “We need to talk about this.”
“You are damned right about that,” she retorted, “but sometimes one must act first and talk later.” She turned around and left the room rapidly, heading upstairs.
“Do not walk away from me, Aazuria!” he yelled after her.
Corallyn and Elandria were already out in the hallway, having heard the raised voices. “What’s going on?” Corallyn whispered. “Why are you fighting?”
“Come with me,” Aazuria told them, heading directly to her room. They complied, following until she sat down on the chair before her vanity table. “Elandria, please braid my hair. Corallyn, pack our things. Just the necessities.”
Both girls immediately started doing what she had asked. Aazuria stared at her reflection in the mirror as Elandria gathered her long hair together and began expertly braiding it. In the past she would have adorned Aazuria’s braid with strings of pearls, or ribbons, but she could intuitively tell that this was meant to be a practical hairstyle, not a decorative one.
“Corallyn, I need to know the number to call Visola. Immediately.”
“May I ask what’s going on, Zuri? One minute you’re happily engaged, then we’re packing our bags?”
Aazuria took a deep breath. “Alcyone is his mother.”
Elandria paused in the middle of the crossing two ropes of hair. She looked into the mirror to gauge Aazuria’s state of mind from her expression, and grew alarmed by what she saw. Corallyn’s hands lingered inside an opened drawer.
“He kept her locked up in a psychiatric facility for forty years,” she added, trying to control her rage. “I am going to break her out. Tonight.”
“Holy shit,” said Corallyn blankly. “Little Alcie? My best bud, Alcie? She’s Trevain’s mother? She grew up and had babies and I still don’t even have boobs?”
“Pack our things, Corallyn. And please call us a cab.”
“Are you leaving, Aazuria?” Trevain asked from the door, frowning. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” she answered, as Elandria continued to braid her hair.
“We cannot go home, Zuri!” Corallyn argued. “It’s far too dangerous with Atargatis…” Corallyn realized that she was saying too much and closed her lips tightly.
“Atargatis,” Trevain repeated. “She’s the woman I punched in the face. Is she… a big problem?”
Corallyn turned to look at him, and decided that if her Aazuria’s safety depended on it, she would disobey her sister. If Alcyone was Trevain’s mother, then surely he was one of them—he should know the truth about everything. She thought about her own mother and her small hands clenched into fists.
“Atargatis wounded Zuri so badly she couldn’t get out of bed for weeks,” Corallyn said, almost on the verge of tears. “We can’t go home now. Please stop her, Trevain… she’s hardly in any condition to swim— how can she possibly fight?”
“Then we will go to Visola’s motel. Visola will protect me,” Aazuria said, standing up. Her hair had been braided, and she was ready to help Alcyone escape. “Corallyn, Elandria, gather your things!”
“A motel, Aazuria? Do you hate me so much?” Trevain asked angrily.
“I think you need to calm down and talk this out with him,” Elandria signed. “The situation with his mother sounds awful, but perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. You know that he would never intentionally…”
“You did not see her, Elandria! She was so unhappy! She was so alone!” Aazuria glared at Trevain and switched to sign language. “How is what he did to Alcie any different from what father did to us? I would rather die than leave her like that.”
“I agree with you, Zuri,” Corallyn began, “but…”
“But? But?” Aazuria snapped. “Fine. You two can stay here. I have a responsibility to take care of my people—anyone who was born in Adlivun is a citizen of my country, and they may not be held against their will in any other dominion. I have to attend to the well-being of one of my subjects—and even if I were not the leader of Adlivun, I would have a responsibility to do so as a human being.”
Aazuria left the room, walking past Trevain without giving him a second look. There was war on her face. “Zuri,” he said, following her. “Please stop and tell me what you’re going to do. Please don’t be reckless. Talk to me; don’t just rush off…”
She continued through the corridor and down the stairs, heading for the door. Trevain began to feel frantic as he followed her. He had never seen her this angry. Also, having met Atargatis, he did not like the thought that Aazuria might be in danger. Corallyn had asked him to stop her.
“Aazuria, you can’t just leave… you gave me your word that we would be married. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She did turn to look at him then. She was upset, but she still loved him and believed that this storm would pass. “We will talk when I return. I have to go.” Her voice was soft yet resolute. “I’m sorry.”
When her hand turned the doorknob and the door began to open, Trevain began to feel sick with worry and loss. He could not lose her! “Please don’t go,” he pleaded desperately. When one of her feet had stepped over the threshold, he felt as though barbed wire had been ripped across his insides. He opened his mouth to beg, but instead found himself threatening: “If you leave this house, don’t you ever think of coming back!”
Aazuria froze. When she slowly turned her chin toward him, he could see how much his words had hurt her. “You said you would never restrict my freedom,” she whispered. She swallowed back the bitter aftertaste in her mouth, knowing that she had made a grave error in judgment. The new life she had begun to build was already in ruins. Her chin rose proudly. “Fine then. Do you think I have no dignity? I will do as you wish. I will never return.” She placed her second foot on the other side of the threshold.
He panicked and reached out to grab her arm. It just so happened to be the arm attached to the shoulder which had been pierced with the javelin. She cried out and clutched her shoulder in pain. He realized in an instant what Corallyn had meant about the injury that had kept her in bed for weeks. Was it possible that she really was the white-haired woman in the water? They looked so different. Could she have been wearing a wig of sorts?
She was gathering her composure after the bout of pain, and she glared at him. “I cannot believe you just grabbed me!”
“God, Aazuria! You’re badly injured. Get back in this house right now. You are not going anywhere! I can’t let you put yourself in danger. Why didn’t you tell me about your shoulder?”
“Leave me alone, Trevain.” She began to walk away, blinking away tears of pain that were not from the physical injury. She knew she could not allow the emotions from fighting with him to distract her from what was important. She needed to help Alcyone.
“Come back in here r
ight now!” he shouted desperately. “I won’t let you risk yourself. Come back or I—I will make you!”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she instantly pivoted. “Then make me,” she said with a challenge in her voice. She walked up to him, putting her face very close to his and giving him a defiant stare. The barrier of the doorway was directly between them, and Aazuria seemed to be giving him a chance to carry out his threat. Before he realized what was happening, she had deftly taken his car keys from his pocket and had punched him in the face with her good arm.
Trevain found himself thrown roughly to the ground, back into his house. He lifted a hand to his smarting jaw, pressing his tongue against his teeth to check if they were loose. Seeing blood on his hand, he looked up at his fiancée in shock. Standing just outside the doorway, Aazuria gazed down at him with condescension.
“How dare you try and control me this way?” Her voice was laced with venom. “You said that if I came to stay with you I would be able to go where I wished. But now you seek to keep me confined, just like you kept Alcyone in that small white room—and you call me dishonest! Who is the liar among us, Trevain? You knew that all I needed was freedom—you promised me safety and said you loved me. That was all a lie. You are just like my father!” With that she left and slammed the door behind her.
“Aazuria,” he said weakly, looking at the closed door. He felt like he had been robbed of air, and struggled to breathe. He felt like all of the blood had been instantly drained from his body, leaving him empty of warmth and life. “I was just a boy,” he whispered. “I was twelve years old when she was taken. The doctors said she was… I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.” He tried to lift himself off the ground, but he was too weak to stand. Falling back to the cold marble floor of his foyer, Trevain put his head in his hands. “I still don’t know.”
The last thing he had ever wanted to do was remind her of her father. He felt a soft, warm touch, and he realized that Elandria was kneeling beside him and embracing him. He leaned against her chest and cried. Clumsily putting his arms around her small body, he clung to her for sanity. Trevain was windswept and overturned, but Elandria was a solid anchor in the tempest. He cried for the lost years with his mother, and he cried for the fact that he was sure he would never see Aazuria again. He did not know why he had threatened her so rashly with inane ultimatums.