by Melissa Haag
The boat rocked slightly.
“Poseidon’s trident! How much does this land whale weigh?”
Ignoring them, I checked my phone. My location dot on the map showed that I was barely off the shore. Leaving the app open, I resealed the phone in its baggy and set it on the seat in front of me.
This time when I went to stick the oar in the water, a hand reached for it. I jerked the oar and whacked the hand.
Laughing, along with some swearing, erupted around me.
I set to rowing again, watching the mermaids dart through the water. They made a game of swimming under the boat to bump it, making it rock continuously. I didn’t have a light stomach so the motion didn’t bother me. In fact, if that was the worst they had, I would have no problem reaching the island.
They entertained themselves like that for a time while I slowly made progress. Rowing might not have been tiring, but it sure was boring once the shoreline faded from sight.
No sooner did I have that thought than a set of hands grabbed the right edge of the boat and pulled down as the left side was lifted up. I immediately leaned to counterbalance and put the oars in the boat. As soon as my hands were free, I picked up my hard, reusable water bottle and hit the hands still gripping the edge.
A head came out of the water, and the mermaid with green-blue hair hissed at me, showing her tiny, sharp teeth. Her grip on the boat tightened as she started pulling herself out of the water. Reaching down to the bottom of the boat, I grabbed a fistful of coarse salt and threw it in her face.
She screamed and dove back into the water. All rocking stopped.
“Fun fact,” I said, starting up my rowing once more, “although mermaids can live in ocean water, they can’t tolerate direct contact with dried salt. And, wouldn’t you know, I got a boat full of it.”
“I hate her,” a voice whispered from under the water.
“I told you,” another said. “Don’t worry. She’ll get hers soon.”
I checked the water on both sides but didn’t see anything. That worried me more than when they were swimming around.
Focusing once more on the map on my phone, I rowed harder. The battery was doing well, but my progress made me worry that I’d run out of juice long before I reached the shores again. Or worse, that I’d be making the return trip in the dark.
The absence of mermaids didn’t last long. Within an hour, the number of them swimming around me had doubled. Another hour doubled that number again.
However, during those next several hours, little else changed. According to my phone, I was only a quarter of the way toward the center of the lake. And, every new mermaid asked the same dumb questions.
“Where is she going?”
“She thinks there’s an island.”
“She thinks there’s an oracle.”
Laughter ensued the last comment.
“An oracle? She doesn’t need one of those. I can see her future just fine. Dead at the bottom of our lake.”
While rowing had initially worked well to exercise the tingle of anger that kept trying to worm its way up my spine, the activity was losing its effectiveness. However, my white-knuckled hold on the oars didn’t just indicate my slipping control. It also kept the oars firmly in my grip. I easily powered through the hands attempting to steal the oars and even managed to connect with a few heads with every heave.
The cursing and hissing grew louder as the surrounding water churned with mermaid tails.
Was hitting them mean? Not based on the anger crawling under my skin. They were planning something that wouldn’t end well for me if they had their way.
“Don’t you have anything better to do? Go comb your hair with a fork or something,” I yelled, losing patience with yet another attempt to grab an oar.
“She did not just go there.”
“Oh, yes, she did,” I answered the unknown, underwater voice. “Take your chum ass out to deeper water and go sing to Sabastian or something. Just leave me alone.”
A head popped up to my right, and I zeroed in on the girl’s livid face. Seeing a real target fueled my temper.
“Did you just call us shark bait?” she demanded.
“I sure did.” I jerked the oar and hit her in the side of the head. She went under like a stone, and I laughed.
Another head popped up near the end of the boat, killing my humor. Her hate-filled gaze locked with mine. The anger I’d been feeling now made more sense, and the smell of smoldering wood tickled my nose as I stared at the mermaid who’d made me blow up my boyfriend.
“You think you’re so smart filling your boat with salt, don’t you?” She smiled, flashing her tiny, sharp teeth. “Your boat’s sitting heavy in the water. Too heavy to tip. Good job, orphan.”
I wanted to launch myself at her but held my ground. She was baiting me. Why?
“What do you want?”
Her smile widened.
“You know what I want. I want that human. But I’ll settle for you.”
I snorted.
“You couldn’t handle me.”
“Alone? No. But I’m not alone.”
She swam within arm’s reach of the boat.
“Do you know what the problem is with your salt-filled boat that’s sitting so heavy in the water?” she asked sweetly.
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“It’s heavy enough to sink.”
Something small jumped at the back of the boat a moment before water started gushing in. I pulled the oars out of the way of grabbing hands and rushed toward the back as the merbitch disappeared under water once more. Grabbing the plug, I swiped the salt away from the hole and jammed the rubber back into its place.
I looked around at all the faces staring at me from a healthy distance.
“Sink me and that means I’m in the water with you. Ever heard of a fish boil?”
They twittered with laughter and dove back under the surface.
Returning to my place, I picked up the oars and started rowing in the increasingly choppy waters with a ferocity that made them laugh harder. The scent of burning wood and hot salt grew stronger, and I struggled to control my temper. How did my mom do it? All those times I’d said something that I’d known would upset her, she’d never lost her cool. I frowned. Not true. When she’d broken her coffee cup that last day in our old house, I remembered feeling a flash of heat. Back then, I’d written it off as my imagination. But I now knew it hadn’t been.
The memory was less than helpful in calming me down, so I thought of Eliana waiting for me on shore. I needed to focus on getting to the island and back before sunset. I didn’t want to worry her. I needed to keep it together.
The plug at the back of the boat popped out, again.
“I swear to the gods I’m three seconds from jumping into that water,” I yelled as I once again put up the oars and went for the plug.
The lake’s surface lapped at the outside of the boat, only inches from the top now, and I had nothing to bail out the water-laden salt. They would sink the boat if they continued to push out the plug.
Something clunked behind me, and I turned just in time to see one of my oars disappear over the edge. Whichever bottom feeder had it, she tossed it away from the boat. It landed with a splash just out of reach.
I swore and lifted the other oar out of its holder. I knew they wanted me to lean over and try to grab for the floating one, but I wasn’t stupid. I’d already witnessed what they would do in that scenario. Instead, I used the oar I had to maneuver myself closer to the oar.
The boat rocked precariously beneath me, and I widened my stance so the mermaids couldn’t knock me over.
“The movies got it all wrong,” I said. “Beautiful, kind creatures who long to be human, my ass. More like overgrown piranhas with the mentality of a goldfish.”
A hand rose out of the water, gave me the finger, then closed over the oar. I watched the floating wood move away rapidly and bared my teeth in frustration. The boat jolted under me, almost offse
tting my balance.
“Do it,” I called. “See what happens when you knock me in.”
They laughed again, and I continued to use my single oar in an effort to propel myself in the direction of the stolen one. The boat’s movement in the water was slow and jerky. What little progress I made vanished each time the bitch with the oar swam further.
“Are your arms getting tired yet?” a singsong voice called.
“Hop in the boat and find out for yourself.”
Silence greeted me and my hair whipped in my face as I stared at the surface. With all the rowing and anger, I hadn’t noticed the wind until that moment. What I’d thought was churning water because of the mermaids was actually stronger waves. Tearing my gaze from the threat-filled lake, I looked up at the clear sky. Clouds hugged the horizon to the north, but the sun hadn’t yet reached its zenith. Good. These mermaids were doing everything they could to slow me down, but I still had time.
The boat jerked under me. My eyes flew to the plug, but it was still in place. The boat jerked again then started forward so suddenly that I lost my balance and fell. My back hit the edge of the seat. I winced and rolled to my side to get to my knees.
The wind battered my face and made my eyes burn. Staying on my knees, I reached for my phone to figure out which direction they were taking me.
To my surprise, the mermaids weren’t speeding me toward the shore. Just the opposite. As I watched, the dot on my GPS tracker crept closer to the middle of the lake. They were taking me right where I wanted to go. I grinned.
The boat stopped so suddenly that I flew forward and hit my head on the other seat. I swore and lifted my face to feel for splinters. I didn’t find any, but my fingers did come away with blood. Heat pooled in my stomach and boiled over into my veins.
“That’s the second time, Merbitch,” I said under my breath.
I stood slowly, watching the water around the boat, looking for their laughing faces. I couldn’t see any, though. However, in the distance, I saw something jutting out of the water. My heart gave a jump, and I wanted to shout with laughter. The island.
Something made a sound near my feet. I looked down at the water rushing in. They’d popped out the plug. Lake water closed over my shoes. I looked up at the island again then grabbed my phone, glancing at the dot through the baggy.
Lake water rushed over the back end of the boat. Weeds and bits of who knew what floated in with it. I had no choice now; I was going into the lake.
I dove over the side, smoothly entering the water. It hissed and sputtered the moment it hit my skin. I could feel how terrifyingly cold it was for only that split second. Then, my heat took over.
Surfacing, I wiped a piece of lake debris from my face.
“I smell like fish!” I yelled, truly pissed.
The water steamed around me and nothing swam nearby. Further away, a few heads surfaced, just enough to see their eyes.
“You wanted me in the water. Now, come get me.” None of them moved. I started swimming toward one, which happened to be in the direction of the island.
“Here, fishy, fishy, fishy,” I called.
There was no laughing this time. The mermaid dove under the surface and did not reappear. I put the phone baggy in my mouth and started swimming toward the island. Within seconds, I knew holding the phone like that was a mistake. The taste of melted plastic clung to my lips as I emptied water out of the bag and tried to power on my phone. It didn’t work. Giving up, I stuck the device in my pocket and set out once more.
Numerous times, I had to stop to make sure I was still on course. It wasn’t easy. Without the phone, I had to tread water and bob in the waves, waiting to catch a glimpse of the island.
My anger didn’t cool with the freezing lake water surrounding me. However, the amount of steam drifting around me did begin to decrease.
The closer I drew to the island, the bolder the mermaids became. They circled me, once again throwing out insults and taunts.
“Does she actually think that’s swimming?”
“Mmm…can you taste her blood in the water? It’s delicious.”
“That’s right, sinker. One arm in front of the other. Get yourself nice and tired for us.”
“Do you feel that? The water’s cooling.”
They were right. As the island grew closer, I could feel the strain. I had never pushed myself this far before. Any activity I’d done, I’d only continued to do until I felt my anger ease. Even though my anger wasn’t easing this time, my energy was flagging. Why?
It took a moment to realize the talking around me had stopped. When I paused to get my bearings again, I noticed the mermaids a distance behind me.
“You’re almost there,” Merbitch said. “Do you think you’ll make it?”
Ignoring her, I turned and continued on. The sight of the rocky, barren island sent a shiver of disquiet through me. It was far larger than I’d anticipated, and its jutting rock formations created a towering skyline that didn’t look so different from my dream. The island wasn’t glass, though, or covered with blood. Maybe my apprehension was from all the dead fish skeletons I’d need to wade through to get to the shore. Could the place get any more disgusting?
My feet hit bottom, and I sagged with relief. Plodding through the waist high water, I purposely ignored all the floating fish corpses. Exhausted, I stumbled onto the rocky shore and sat heavily. I’d exerted myself more than I’d realized because as I sat there I shivered. I needed to get out of the wind, dry off, and maybe even powernap before starting my search for the oracle.
In the distance, a single head rose above the water. Merbitch watched me with a malicious smile. She was probably thinking the same thing I was. I’d safely made it to the island, but how was I going to get back?
The smile on her face fled, and she dove underwater, leaving me completely alone.
I thought of Eliana and sighed. She was going to be so worried.
“Well,” a feminine voice said from nearby, “this is a surprise.”
Eighteen
Startled, I looked over my shoulder. A woman dressed in a white, flowing gown stood near a pile of boulders. She was beautiful with windswept golden hair and brilliant silver-blue eyes. A warm, welcoming smile spread over her features as I stared.
Another shiver ripped through me.
“Such a nice surprise,” she said. “It’s not every day I get such a lovely visitor. My name is Lucia. Can I offer you a drier place to sit and, perhaps, something to drink?”
I carefully stood and wiped off the seat of my pants. Sand and delicate fish bones fell away from my cold fingers.
“My name is Megan, and somewhere warm and dry sounds great.”
“Warm,” she said with a smile. “Yes. Warm is good.”
She motioned for me to follow and disappeared into a space between two giant boulders.
My shoes squished wetly as I walked up the sloped beach to the boulder strewn plateau. The crevice between the rocks was tight, but I could feel the warm air flowing out and saw the soft flicker of firelight.
With some wiggling, I pushed my way through. The dim passage I found myself in wasn’t much wider than the entrance.
“It helps keep the heat in,” Lucia said from somewhere ahead, as if reading my mind.
I took a step forward and something crunched under my shoe. I squinted down at my feet but couldn’t see anything in the icky darkness gathered around my legs.
“I apologize for the mess. It’s not easy to keep a cave clean.”
I continued forward, that feeling of disquiet growing. But, no anger.
The ground tilted down slightly for several yards before I came to a bend. The light flickered more strongly ahead. I stepped around the edge, thinking to see an end, but it was just more passage. I looked back, staring at the sliver of daylight I was leaving behind.
“We’re almost there, Megan. A warm fire and some wine. If you’re old enough, that is.”
I turned toward the firel
ight once more, my shoes crunching on something with each step.
“Old enough? I didn’t think those rules applied here.”
Her gentle laughter floated back to me.
“I do try to respect all rules. Without them, our world would be complete chaos. No one wants that.”
Something rolled under my foot when I placed my next step, throwing me off-balance. I spread my arms to keep myself from falling, and my palms connected with cold, slimy rock. A dank, damp smell heavy with bitter smoke filled my nose. Flinching away from both the smell and the rock, I removed my hand. The smell vanished.
The oracle’s home was disgusting.
“Why do you live in a cave?” I asked, carefully moving toward the flickering light.
“There’s nothing to build with on the Isle of Woe.”
I frowned. She was right. There’d been nothing but rock and bones. How, then, was there a fire?
Another bend reflected in the light. Warmth wrapped around me, making steam rise from the cold, wet jeans clinging to my legs. I knew I was getting close. Instead of hurrying, I slowed.
My gut was telling me something wasn’t right, but my fury temper was quiet. Not a whisper of anger. Sure, I was annoyed as hell that I was cold and wet and smelled like fish, but that had nothing to do with Lucia. Why, then, did I feel like continuing was the wrong thing to do?
“Are you coming, Megan? I just poured you some warmed wine.”
Unsure why I was feeling weird about the place, I soldiered on and rounded the bend. Relief rushed through me that the space before me wasn’t more narrow passage.
A fire burned in an open pit to one side of the large cavern. Thick smoke curled up toward the tiny hole in the ceiling. My eyes barely noted the flames that I’d followed there. Instead, my gaze was drawn to a large, wooden table that took up the center of the space. Its grain gleamed so palely in the firelight that it appeared almost white. Dark engravings decorated the surface, epic battle scenes showing men in loincloths and armor fighting on mountains and in valleys.
“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”
Lucia’s voice drew me from the mesmerizing images. She stood beside the table and pulled out the single, cushioned dining chair.