“One final piece of advice, girl,” she said. “They believe you to be dead? Sing from the moment your feet touch the sand. Keep them in the dream your voice conjures until your deed is done. Your chosen will not be affected, nor will anyone you choose to spare.”
“Yes, High Mother,” I replied.
“Beware that young guard out there. Prove yourself truthful,” she said as she turned to leave, clearing her throat. “And when the time is right, when you have done all you may, you and your family shall come to me, and I shall teach you.”
She was vague, but I heeded her words and bowed as she stepped out, back among our people, and a tingle ran from my tail to the top of my head as I braced myself for the task at hand.
I would rescue Matthias.
Chapter 16
The night air blew and chilled my head and face as I floated, looking to the shore. The whole of the tribe, save a chagrined young guard and a few of his companions, surfaced behind me and bobbed in silence, the High Mother among them. They would watch me change.
Calming my racing heart with a few deep breaths, I approached the shallow waters, the very ones that would strand a mermaid as they pulled her in toward land. There was very little room to move my tail, the tips of it already scraping against the ocean floor.
How does one will oneself to turn human?
I squeezed my eyes shut, repeating ‘transform’ as though magic were in the word. Nothing happened. Casting a look behind me, I could see slight movement among my supervisors, whispering with covered hands. This was taking too much time.
“You are thinking too much, Ia! Stop thinking and do,” the High Mother yelled, drawing surprised looks from her flock who had been instructed from birth to keep silent when approaching the shore.
I bit my lower lip and let my body relax into the wave, the tip of my tail carving shapes in the sand. I stopped thinking of changing and started thinking of Matthias. Concern overwhelmed me, and I did my best to thrust it out with thoughts of us in the grass, his soft smile, the feel of the earth beneath me.
Earth beneath me. Beneath my feet.
Pain shot through me as my tail began to split. It was uncomfortable, as though I had ripped it with a sharp rock, but with the feeling came a familiar tingle that traveled up. I found myself flexing thighs, still covered in scales, and my tail gave way to legs, and then to feet.
I crunched my toes into the sand beneath them, smiling. Tiny bits of scale, iridescent in the moonlight, floated up around me, and I ran my hands down my form, finding only skin. Determination seized me, and I hobbled through the remainder of the shallow waters until all that was left were gentle waves lapping at my feet. Excited murmuring erupted from my group of voyeurs, which quickly gave way to cheering, despite the danger.
I waved at them, and then turned to gather my bearings. Walking without the help of a broom or my cane was challenging, but concern for Matthias quickened my feet.
As I approached the top of the short ridge where the land turned from sand into grass and brush, I made out Zatia’s home in the dark, my eyes now fully human and limited. No light or sign of occupation could be seen, and as I neared, I heard the High Mother’s voice on the wind, Calling me to sing.
My voice rang out in the dark, and it was not the shrill, horrendous sound I had made all those nights ago at my first Calling as a mermaid. The tone of it was now melodious, rich, and I called for the wary to rest, to slumber.
Excitement and hope ran up my body. My song permeated the night, and I continued past Zatia’s home and down the path I had first traveled a lifetime ago in the back of a wagon.
The breeze blew from the direction of my people, carrying my voice on the wind, amplifying my song as morning broke across the horizon. Slaves beginning their daily labor in the fields stopped and considered me for a moment before their lids grew heavy, and they laid themselves down. The overseers did so as well, some crawling away from me in failed attempt to pull themselves out of earshot before sleep claimed them.
My time would be limited before I would need to sing them back into slumber. Melina Hills stretched out before me, the house shadowed by the hills surrounding it. The expanse of fields between myself and my destination were Matthias’ usual domain, but I only caught sight of Jasper, the man who had beaten Joseph within an inch of his life.
He was atop Matthias’ favored soft brown mare and sought to spur her away when he saw me after watching all those around him collapse to the ground. I smiled as I sang, keeping the song of rest on my lips as I tightened my throat, forcing out a trail of different pitches until my voice carried the song of luring as well. Jarring at first, I found the sounds merging naturally as I had heard Lili do in practice. Jasper’s eyes widened as his thoughts receded into nothing but my will, and he guided his horse to me.
With a gentle lift, he helped me up and guided us along until the great manor loomed over us. My lips, were dry and cracking - my throat pained by the time we reached the back of the house, and we dismounted. I stopped singing, and with my hand balled up into a fist, I struck Jasper in the face, knocking him back.
“Where is Matthias?”
He shook his head, tossing out the limbo his mind had been trapped in as he reached up to his nose, smearing blood across his face.
“Slave quarters,” he said, and as soon as I hummed the first note, he fell to the ground, splayed out as he slept.
* * *
Matthias, chained to the wall in a dark corner, was beyond recognition. One eye was swollen shut, and dried blood covered him. His right arm dangled in an unnatural, gruesome position, and his breathing was rapid and shallow.
Zatia was asleep next to him with a basket of blood-soaked herbs, and I bent over to shake her awake. Her eyelids cracked open as she jerked away from me, terrified. I stepped into a crack of light, and she cried out as she recognized me, lunging to hug me.
“They will hang him tonight,” she pleaded. “We must do something!”
I nodded, handing her the keys that I had pulled off Jasper’s unconscious person.
“Will he live?” Tears welled up and blurred my vision.
“I pray so,” she said. “Jiba can help me heal him, but she will not come here for fear that Lord Malcom will take her daughter from her again.”
“Take him to your home,” I said, bending down to kiss his forehead.
He lifted his head, bloodied lips forming a smile.
“Are you here to take my soul?”
“No,” I said, smiling. “I am here to take Lord Malcom’s.”
* * *
I found the master still snoring, fast asleep despite the morning light pouring in through the windows, so it was with little effort that I was able to lure him to his feet, down the stairs, through the foyer, and on until we reached the gates.
Jasper, too, followed with the same wide-eyed, blank stare and soft mumbling as I sang to them of their deepest desires, of the treasure and beauty that awaited them in the depths. Each field we passed, I called to the slumbering overseer until I had each in a neat line trailing behind me.
It took some time to reach the shore. A broomstick steadied me, but my pace was still slow. I walked backward to keep my eye upon my captives, knowing that if I for one second failed, they would come to their senses. I did not even cast a glance to Zatia’s home when we came near, scared that sorrowful news could await me.
When we stepped into the water, I heard Mother’s voice, then Liliana’s – both Calling the men that were following in, buying me time to complete the transformation. The men swam around me as though I did not exist, and it was a short time later that I heard the song cease, the call complete, and the men devoured.
Except one.
Lord Malcom stood within the water to his knees staring out into the expanse, the spell of the song breaking. His brow was furrowed, his gaze searching. He appeared confused and worried.
“Strange,” I thought aloud. “Why does he not swim out to the song?”
He tried to step forward, knowing it was the direction he should go, but stopped short upon seeing the water. I could make out a form running toward us.
“He will not go in,” Zatia yelled out, her voice jerking Lord Malcom’s attention to her. “His fear is far stronger than his desire. He is terrified of water. He cannot swim.”
A light sparked in Lord Malcom’s eyes. His expression relaxed, then grew resolute as his jaw tensed. A sense of awareness flooded his face. He was awake and furious. Unintelligible words, curses and shouts tore through his lips, and then he turned to run to Zatia. My tail was only half-formed, but I pushed on the tips of my fins with all my might and reached for him, just catching his shoulder. My fingernails, sharp and pointed as my teeth, dug in to his flesh, and he shouted in pain, thrashing his way out of the water with me now attached to his back.
Yelling, he swung to knock me off his back, but I held fast, pulling myself against him. He was strong, and I would not be able to hold for long.
My lower jaw unhinged as I opened my mouth wide as my transitioning form would let me, and I sunk my teeth into the side of his neck. Blood spurted forth, sweet and warm, and I found myself renewed by the taste of his flesh as I bit down and ripped.
He jolted, throwing me across his shoulder and down to the beach. Towering over me, he stood clutching his neck. My wound had been devastating but not yet fatal. The look in his eyes told me he knew, understood, that this was a fight to the death.
I kicked and thrashed my half-formed legs, trying to push myself away from him. His eyes searched all around us, coming to rest on a large rock next to me. With a single motion, he swooped down and grabbed it with his free hand, bringing it up to strike me.
I had not the leverage nor the buoyance to leap for him, despite the tide rising around us.
He straddled me, pressing his foot down on my left knee as he lowered himself to bludgeon me.
Thin, brown leather wrapped around his neck with a loud crack, startling me. Matthias was standing to my right, his bruised arm tightening the whip, groaning in pain as he pulled Lord Malcom to his knees.
Malcom gasped for air, his hands grabbing at the leather, fighting against its pull. With but a short distance between them, Matthias let loose the whip and dove for his father, knocking him back.
Matthias squeezed his remaining strong hand around Malcom’s throat and screamed, shaking as he lifted Malcom by the neck with a single hand. Sobs tore from Matthias as the man began to tremble, his life leaving him, and Matthias let him go, dropping him to the ground. Malcom convulsed, each spasm shorter than the last as his life began to leave him. His throat was nearly crushed and blood from my bite was seeping out in an increasing amount.
My legs now formed, I embraced Matthias as he cried into my hair. With Zatia’s help, we staggered toward her home as the waves began to pull Lord Malcom’s lifeless body.
Epilogue
Standing on the balcony off our bedroom, overlooking the gate of Melina Hills, I took in the warmth of the newly breaking dawn, rubbing my swollen belly and softly humming the songs of the seas to the growing life inside me.
I had foreseen our first girl in my dreams, much to my excitement after our boy, who I could already hear running around outside below me.
Matthias’ soft touch on my shoulder startled me, and I jumped, laughing as he wrapped his arms around me, kissing my neck, smelling my hair.
“You, dear husband, are supposed to be working,” I said, smiling as I savored his affection.
“You, beautiful wife, were too appealing for me to walk past,” he said, whispering against my skin. “Besides, doing things as I please comes with my position. Helps ease the stress of responsibility.”
I could feel him smile against me as he placed a hand on my belly.
“Seven years, and we finally have a home I am happy to welcome our children into,” he said with a sigh of relief.
All was right in the world, or at least in our part. Malcom’s death had been investigated, albeit poorly, and it was judged from his consistent abuse of alcohol that he likely wandered into the ocean and drowned.
As for the overseers, Matthias claimed they’d all been thieves who took the first boat they could after the master’s death. He paid a ship captain a lovely sum of gold kept in Lord Malcom’s desk to list their names on his register of passengers.
After a year of debate, Matthias was granted the estate and all its holdings as per Lord Malcom’s unaltered will – without the title of Lord, which was awarded to Lord Malcom’s brother’s family, much to Matthias’ pleasure.
Matthias’ first act as owner was to free all those laboring there, and to offer wages and decent shelter to those who would stay to tend to the crops. Some left and returned, some left never to be seen again, and others stayed, surprised to find Matthias working among them as their homes were built.
Pieces of the outlying pastures were sold to fund our vision of Melina Hills, although we found ourselves blessed shortly thereafter with an incredibly lucrative sale of Lord Malcom’s horses, allowing us to buy the lands back and free as many slaves as we could purchase at the market, much to the chagrin of our slave-holding neighbors.
I was beside him for it all as he made his penance, burying the shame of his past and his father with each passing day. From time to time, my body would call to me, and I would visit the ocean, wrapping myself in its waves, feeling the freedom of the water as our children ran along the beach.
I was home either way – on land or in the water, and the peace I had was unsurpassable. After all, I was of ocean and ash, and I had finally discovered that while I belonged to neither world, I belonged in both.
About the Author
A.R. (Amber) Draeger resides in rural Texas with her husband, Josh, and their son, Logan. Daughters of Men is her debut horror/thriller/sci-fi novella. Of Ocean and Ash is her debut romance novella.
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See A. R.’s other works on Amazon.
Deep Breath by J. M. Miller
Before disappearing at sea, Marissa Pruitt’s father—a once revered marine archaeologist—walked the line of insanity, claiming to have seen a mermaid during an ordinary dive in the Gulf of Mexico. He abandoned his life and career, completely obsessed with chasing the truth.
It’s been years since his death, and Marissa is still tormented by countless unanswered questions. When she finds dive coordinates and a stone pendant hidden in her father’s things, she asks for help from his old protégé and sets out to give her father one last goodbye and maybe find closure for her troubled heart. Instead, she finds the truth he’d been searching for all along, with a life and love she never could have imagined. But there’s a price to see it all, one set by betrayal and paid with an anchor at her feet and salt water in her lungs.
One
A drop of rain smacked the necklace Marissa held in her palm, splattering against the dark green stone and the threaded knots that encased it like a fishing net. She wiped a finger over the pendant and glanced down past her hands to the waves below. The gulf’s swells had grown while she’d been lost in her thoughts. They were no longer calm, no longer in sync, rocking and slapping her rental boat for disrupting their chaotic rhythm. Reflections of lightning flashed across the waves’ peaks and the rumble of thunder quickly followed. Marissa looked up toward the open water horizon as thick gray clouds rolled in like a slow motion avalanche, threatening to bury the setting sun. She wasn’t concerned so much with the storm, only that Darci was well over an hour late. With darkness and strong currents approaching, the dive she had planned was out of the question. It would have to wait for another day.
Marissa looked at the necklace again. Swirled with colors much like those the Emerald Coast was known for, the rough stone was gorgeous. She couldn’t comprehend why her father had kept it inside a box of old photos, but then again, she’d never understood th
e reasons for most of his actions leading up to his disappearance six years before. No one had. He’d been crazed, obsessed with what he claimed to have seen on a typical dive in the Gulf of Mexico. It had cost him his career, recognition as one of the most notable marine archaeologists in the state of Florida, many friends and colleagues, most of his savings, and in the end, his life.
His body was never found.
The confusion of it all had made a teenage Marissa doubt him as well, and it had troubled her over the years, never knowing the reason her father had turned from renown to reckless. It was the reason she’d rented the boat, to give him one last chance. Maybe he had seen something. Was it a mermaid as he’d claimed? Probably not, but maybe there was an explanation.
Following another cluster of lightning cracks, the sound of an approaching motor caught her attention. She tucked the necklace into the pocket of her windbreaker and moved around the center console to the back of the boat, watching a white cruiser with a hard top pull closer as a few more raindrops fell. It throttled down, and a woman wearing an aqua colored dress shirt and black suit skirt stepped out of the cabin’s door. Her short brown hair held loose curls that fluttered as the wind swept between the two boats.
“It’s wonderful to see you again, Marissa. Sorry I’m late,” Darci said, walking the length of the cruiser and tossing fenders over the side so the boats could raft up.
“It’s no problem at all, Darci. Thanks for coming,” Marissa responded, catching the lines Darci pitched across to tie off.
Darci ducked back inside the cabin to ease the boats together, then cut off the cruiser’s motor and stepped back outside onto the rear swimming platform, barefooted. “Nice rental. Gear too?” She nodded her head toward the tanks and vests then rolled up her sleeves and boarded the rental boat. “Now I know why you declined my dinner invitation in Pensacola and requested to meet on the water.” Her arms opened for an embrace. “Feeling a bit nostalgic?”
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