I struggle through with all my strength, darting forward faster than the males can. They are broader in the shoulders and have to claw forward inches at a time. I clear the opening with my tail barely touching the sides of the tunnel. In seconds, I am out in the open. A blue haze covers everything as far as the eye can see. The sun has already set and only the faintest blue light remains. I have minutes before we’ll be in pitch darkness, except for the circle of the full moon smiling from behind a cloud. Did I really sleep so long?
Once out in the open water, I dart forward, mindlessly escaping the Mer behind me. But eventually, my thoughts catch up with me. Where am I going? I’d been heading back toward Bermuda. Why? I won’t find help there. As an exile, I survived the sharks and refused to become a Land Walker. As far as anyone in Bermuda is concerned, I have no rights. A Mer with no rights can’t stand up for herself. No elder would stand up for me either. All this time I’ve been calling myself a bottom feeder, but I hadn’t realized that I’ve become something even worse. A plaything. Anyone can do with me what they want—without repercussions.
Cold returns to the pit of my stomach and I stop. How could I have not realized the danger sooner? Bailey warned me, but I never thoroughly thought it through. How could I have been so stupid? I’ll be running from Brandeeb and his kind for the rest of my life.
Death might be better.
I grip the spear. If I kill them, would the elders sentence me to death?
I shake my head. What am I thinking? I can’t possibly kill them. The idea of the spear I hold piercing the flesh of a Mer repulses me beyond measure. But what can I possibly do?
I turn and start for the only place I might have hope. The moon is full. I’ll go ashore and overcome my fear. I did it with the tunnel and found my fear unfounded. Even though my father warned me over and over again to eschew shore life, it is my last refuge. I have no choice. I dart for a familiar shore.
Perhaps I’ll go ashore at Betty’s pier. The older woman might take pity on me and help. From watching the television with her nightly, I know that Land Walkers need money for food, shelter, and clothing. I’ll need someone to help me find those until I can start earning money. It will be hard for me to develop the skills I need to survive, but I can do this.
A shout behind me quickens my pulse and deadens all thought. I glance back. Brandeeb and the other two Mer are less than a couple hundred yards away. Not far behind them, Bailey darts after. I squeal and swim harder, heading for shallower waters. The Mer following me tend toward bigger movements to gain speed. If I stay in the shallows, it might slow them down, or at least separate the group, making it harder for all of them to catch me at once.
The rocky shores of Assateague are on my right, and I skim past the familiar beaches. The lighthouse’s beacon casts a glow toward us, and I close my eyes just before it reaches me. I learned that regaining my night vision after the light shines is difficult. Once the light passes, I open my eyes and swim more desperately.
A curse is cast behind me and I gasp. They are closer than I’d thought. Perhaps the curse is a sign that they’ve been blinded by the beacon? I can’t miss the opportunity to gain ground. I draw even closer to the shoreline so that I can dart among the rock outcroppings. Maybe I can put more space between us through the narrow passages between rocks? Occasionally my tail slaps against the sand.
When my own stone grotto draws near, a sense of nostalgia makes me swim closer, but at the last moment I swerve when I remember the netting. My shoulder brushes against the silken threads and it slows me for a moment. A thought sparks in my mind and I stop, staying close to the netting, opposite of the Mer who are after me.
My breath comes in wicked pants as I watch and wait. Although my night vision is even keener in the light of the full moon, I can only see a hundred yards. When the four Mer break from the darkened current, my breath hitches. Every muscle in my body screams at me to go, to keep running until I find a suitable shore on which to land. But I need to trust myself. This plan will work. The silken threads are completely invisible in the dark, and I only avoided them because I knew they were there. The Mer behind me will be caught in the tangles.
If it doesn’t work, I can always go ashore here. Assateague is not ideal since it is uninhabited by humans, but people often use it as a place for camping or visiting during the day. I’ll find someone who will help me. I’m bound to.
The moonlight shines in Brandeeb’s crystal blue eyes and his white teeth are exposed in a sneer. His fingertips reach toward me as though itching to wrap themselves around my throat. I can’t help myself—I wince and flinch at the thought of his touch. My eyes close.
“What the—” he growls and curses.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh follows, and I open my eyes. All three of the threatening Mer are tangled in the net. And Bailey is coming. I rush to the side and wave my arms to stop him.
A puzzled expression fills his eyes and twists his face, but he slows to a stop. His breathless gasps whistle, and he holds his side. Pain etches itself in the lines on his face. He is struggling to help again, and it cost him.
When he finally catches his breath, he asks, “What is this?”
The three Mer fight the silken strands, finding themselves more entangled the greater they struggle. Thin threads cut into their flesh, causing new wounds to form on their arms and fins. Their frantic cries and curses filled the waters with squeals and chirps. The ropes become easily visible as they reflect the moonlight in the movements the struggles create.
I offer Bailey a smile. “It’s a net.”
Bailey rolls his eyes. “I can see that much. Did you know it was there? How could you have known?”
I don’t want to tell him how stupid I’ve been. It is enough that I know myself. So I decide not to tell him about how I was spotted by the fisherman. “I noticed it when I was out hunting. It’s easy to see in the daylight, but I knew it would be virtually invisible at night.”
He nods then shouts toward the net, “Stop struggling before your blood and movements attract a shark.”
The struggles in the net slow, and Brandeeb calls out, “Hey. Cut us free, Brother.”
Bailey frowns and snatches the spear from my grasp. He approaches the net but stops just before his brother’s face. After leaning back, he crosses his arms over his chest.
“I believe we should talk, Brother.” Bailey spits the moniker as though the word is offensive to him.
One of Brandeeb’s hands protrudes between strands of netting. He wiggles it and then makes a fist. “What do you wish to discuss?”
Bailey’s eyes shift toward me but his gaze only glances across me. “The female.”
An audible click sounds as Brandeeb tightens and relaxes his jaw. The other two in the net renew their struggle with whines of “Come on,” and “Compromise.”
“Fine!” Brandeeb shouts and the other two still again. “What compromise do you suggest, Brother?”
After a pause of four deep breaths, Bailey starts. “I will cut you free, but you must leave this female alone.” He swallows and then continues, “I want her for my betrothed.”
My own gasp joins the three that come from the net.
Then a chuckle bubbles up from Brandeeb, and he offers what might have been a charming smile if it didn’t look so sinister. “Betrothed? What are you saying, Brother? You are nearly three years from the day you come of age. Do you think she will wait for you? Who will protect her?”
Bailey’s Adam’s apple bobs. “I will.”
Brandeeb’s laughter intensifies and fills the currents with their wretched sound. After a few moments, the sound slows and then cuts off. His sinister smile returns. He nods. “Fine, Brother, fine. I will not touch your female. Now cut us free.”
My heart beats against my eardrums. Had I heard what I think I’ve heard? Bailey swims forward and starts to cut the first strands of the net. Can we trust the word of his brother? Although Mer are known to always keep their word, some are known
to make exceptions when it comes to family. Would Brandeeb be that kind of Mer?
Gooseflesh rises on my arms, and I wrap them around my middle as I watch Bailey cut the Mer free. Bailey never looks up from his job until all three Mer are loosed from the net. Once free, the Mer surround us. The looks on their faces are cast in a shadow of confusion. They hardly cast a glance my direction, but draw close to Bailey.
Brandeeb sets a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Are you certain this is what you want, Brother?”
Bailey’s voice seeps between his clenched teeth. “I’ve never been surer.”
After slapping him on the shoulder twice, Brandeeb swims for deeper waters. After a few yards, he turns back around. “Do not stay out here with her. Let her continue in her exile for the three years. I will help you keep her safe provided that you come home.” He shook his head. “I can’t have you worrying Mother at your age.”
Bailey nods.
With another chuckle, the three Mer head in the direction of Bermuda.
CHAPTER TEN
A WEEK LATER… NOTHING has changed.
I return to my daily life in exile, alone.
The fisherman has mended his net and replaced it. Thicker threads are weaved into the repairs. With arms full of seaweed, I swim past it without coming too close. The morning sun brightens the sky, and I search in all directions before approaching. Not one boat treads nearby. I’ll be safe as long as I keep my visit short.
After breaking the surface near the rocks, I blink the saltwater from my eyes and savor the burning of the first breath of the air through my lungs. The sorrel and white mare watches me from the shore, with the black colt sucking at her side. A smile pulls my lips as I stretch the black seaweed across the rocks.
Licking the milk from his lips, the black colt bolts away from the mare, kicking up his heels and circling her, but avoiding the rest of the herd which appears over the sand dunes. I search the surface of the waves again for any boats as she backs away a bit from the shore.
When the ponies enter the water, I return to them, giving the ones I approach a gentle scratching beneath the surface. The sorrel and white’s most itchy spot is just under her coarse mane. I push the thick hair aside under the water and the mare leans in as I began to scratch.
The feeling of their warmth against my fingertips relieves the desperate craving I have for contact, and I treasure each moment while they stay with me. Once the sun burns in the sky for another half hour, the ponies move return to the shore. With a smile, I wave to them and dive beneath the waves.
That first breath of salt water pulls into my lungs, comforting my parched throat. My eyes adjust to the water and I swim past the net and back out into open water. My stomach growls. With a nod, I head north for the cavern and the hiding spot for my spear.
Bailey hasn’t returned since the day he made his declaration before his brother. When I attempted to ask about it, he glared at me and left for Bermuda without speaking a word. Had he only said those things to protect me or had he seriously told his brother that he would take me as his betrothed? I shiver at the thought, unsure of how I feel about the prospect.
Do I want to marry Bailey?
At the mouth of the cave, I push away a few rocks and retrieve my spear. I am famished and really need something to eat. My eyes see nothing but the blue-green in front of me. My mind has wandered to other things.
What do I want?
If I let my emotions get the better of me, like I normally do, I’d want the kind of marriage like the ones I see on the television. Love. Such a foreign concept to the Mer. My father loves me that way, but is that because of the time he’d spent as a Land Walker? Maybe that’s why I have the emotional pull of a human instead of a Mer, myself. The time my father had spent among the humans had taken its toll on him in so many ways. Emotionally, most of all. His experiences weakened him as far as the Mer are concerned.
Yes, I want a marriage with love at the center.
But is that possible with Bailey…or with any Mer for that matter?
A school of grouper swims so near my face that I blink in surprise. With a smile, I dart after them and follow the school until I spear two of them for my brunch. I chew on the raw meat, swallowing bit after bit, and fall back into my thoughts.
What choice do I have?
Bailey wants me … at least it seems. As far as I can see, I only have three options available to me:
Thirty days of shore life—studying humans for the benefit of Merkind and braving the obstacles my father warned of.
I can wait three years and marry Bailey, if he really wants me for his betrothed.
Or I can spend the rest of my life in exile.
The choice is mine.
I swallow a bite of grouper past my constricted throat and pound on my tightened chest. My appetite has fled. If a Mer had tears, I would cry.
About the Author
Pauline Creeden is an award-winning author, horse trainer, and overall book ninja. She becomes the main character in each of her stories, and because she has ADD, she will get bored if she pretends to be one person for too long. Her debut novel, Sanctuary, won 1st Place Christian YA Title 2013 Dante Rosetti Award and 2014 Gold Award for First Place YA Horror Novel.
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Ink: A Mermaid Romance by Melanie Karsak
A mermaid princess destined to wed a handsome king…
It sounds like a fairy tale, but the reality is far murkier.
Ink, Princess of the Florida Atlantic mers, is slated to wed the ancient enemy of her tribe, the King of the Gulfs. After years of war that led to countless mer deaths, as well as the genocide of aquatic shapeshifters and the freshwater mers of Florida, Ink’s marriage will bring lasting peace.
Or so it seems.
Mere hours before she’s supposed to leave the ocean for her customary year as a drywalker, Ink meets Hal, an alligator shifter who warns her that a storm is brewing. There is malicious intent behind Ink’s marriage—and worse, meeting Hal has also caused a storm to rage in Ink’s heart. Nevertheless, loyal to her tribe, Ink will put aside her feelings and journey to Miami to marry the decadent King Manx.
Ink soon learns that her only hope of surviving the crashing force swelling around her is to tap into a power deep inside—a forbidden power that might destroy them all.
Chapter 1
The first bomb exploded with a flash of white oxygen bubbles. A sharp, piercing sound followed. I felt like my skull would burst. Even though the pain threatened to deafen me, I suppressed my scream. Biting my lip, I tasted blood, and my shimmering blue tail curled. I squinted hard, covering my ears with my hands. My whole body shook, and I knew it wasn’t over yet. Five more bombs dropped into the water. The dolphins near the fishing vessel whistled in agony, and then became silent.
I rocked in the water, the ripple of shockwaves rolling past me. Every muscle in my body tensed. When the pain softened, I opened my eyes to see the bottom of the commercial fishing vessel gliding through the water, the prop on slow. Bobbing on the waves, the dolphins floated immobilized. Below the dolphins, tuna huddled, ripe for the picking.
Of course, they weren’t all dolphins. Several of the dolphins were, in fact, merdolphins. I scanned the water for my cousin Indigo. King Creon had ordered me to bring her back at once. Something was happening at the grotto. There had been a flurry of preparation, but I didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if the king shared his plans with me. Why would he? I was an annoyance to him, a constant reminder of his deceased brother who’d ruled before—and better than—him, a brother whose death had bought Creon the throne.
“Ink?” Seaton called. “Are you all right?”
I glanced over at him. The gruff old merman stiffened his back, his dark purple tail uncurling. Small clouds of blood trailed from his ears.
I nodded. “You?”
“They are using seal bombs,” he said angrily. “Illegally.”
“When did humans ever pay attention to their own laws?” I turned to the others, the small band of scouts who’d come with me. It was times like this that I missed Roald who’d left the ocean for his exile year. He would have had something smart to say to cut the mood. But Roald was not there, and the rest of us were far too serious to make jokes. “Everyone else okay?”
“We’ll be fine,” Achates, a hulking merman with dark hair and a ruby-red tail, assured me. He squeezed his blades and glared angrily at the boat overhead. There was no one we hated more than the fishermen…well, except the oilmen. It was no wonder the mermaids of old hypnotized and drowned humans for fun. Of course, that was before my great-great-grandfather King Tricus outlawed siren song. His daughter, Princess Tigonea, had tried to use siren song against her father in an attempt to usurp power. We mermaids still suffered for her failed regicide.
I scanned the water. The bubbles caused by the blasts faded into halos at the surface. Some of the dolphins and the merdolphins, started to recover. We needed to get to them.
The tuna clustered under the dolphins. Atlantic tuna were easy to find if you knew where to look. If you hunted dolphins, you found tuna. The fishermen began dropping their purse-shaped net. It drifted downward like a dark haze.
“Let’s go,” I called, gripping my blades.
We swam quickly toward the pod, careful to stay far enough below the surface to remain unseen. By sonar, we’d just look like another pod of dolphins. Humans knew nothing about the deep. As long as we were cautious, they’d never see us.
As we drew closer, I noticed that some of the older dolphins had been killed. They floated like plastic bottles on the surface, their white bellies facing the sun. Others kicked and tried to recover from the deafening blast, swimming away in confusion. The dolphins’ blood clouded the water, filling my nostrils. This was nothing short of murder.
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