They were a dark blue—even in this light I could tell that. They were unfocused, darting around my face uncertainly. “You…you saved me…” he muttered, his voice low and delicious. His eyes darted back and forward before his eyelids fluttered close.
I panicked for an instant, but his heart still beat in his chest. I smoothed his hair back from his forehead, and wondered at what his life must be like; birds flying overhead, air in his chest rather than water, and legs to propel him. The idea of that lodged in my head, like a sharp, beautiful piece of coral.
That was the exact moment that I heard the women’s voices. Reflexively, I jerked back in the water as several cloaked figures came running along a path leading down from the cliffs. However, my fingers trailed reluctantly along the man’s arms. I didn’t want to let go—but there was nothing else to be done.
“Prince Roan,” they called, but I was not there to see their arrival. By the time they had reached the beach, I had already wriggled my tail, and slid back into the embrace of Mother Ocean.
I didn’t want to see any more of the Above world. I swam back to my father’s kingdom with a sharp sensation in my chest that I could not name. My sisters, who had been waiting for me below the waves, fell in behind me as I wordlessly passed them heading deeper. I knew what they were thinking; I was disappointed or scared by what I had seen. They loved me—but they didn’t really know me. I barely knew myself at that moment.
After the shock had worn off, and as I reached King Triton’s kingdom once more, what I was contemplating was something I could not share with them. I was thinking about what stood between me and seeing the man I’d rescued again. For the next few days I said very little, but everyone—even my grandmother—left me alone to sort out my feelings. They thought I was stunned by the horror of what I had seen. I was only seeing the beauty replayed over and over again in my head.
I knew what I needed to do on the very first day, but it took me much longer to work out how I was going to achieve it.
My grandmother and father I spotted talking to each other quietly in the corners of the palace—watching me as covertly as they could. When they did that I smiled and slapped on the appearance of happiness. It wouldn’t do to have them put guards on me—not when I had a person to visit. A person I knew they would most definitely forbid me from going to.
My mother had been a syrienne and like most of that kind beautiful and fierce. She had however wanted more than her kin could provide. That secretive tribe lived in the shadowy trenches from where monsters came, but they were also masters of making and creation. They would have the answers I sought, but I knew of only one syrienne who would not kill me on sight; my maternal grandmother—the one that was called the Sea Witch.
I told no one about my plan, because to do so would result in Father locking me up immediately. Instead, I waited until the darkest moonless night and stole away from my room like a thief. However, I took nothing with me: no gold, and no pearls. I was throwing myself on the mercy of the witch, and the frail hope that blood meant something to her. She had no interest in finery or fripperies from what I had heard.
Once beyond the walls of the palace, my tail powered me deeper and deeper, until sight was lost to me, and only my plaintive calls allowed me to keep following the trench.
Until, out of the darkness I saw a faint golden gleam and felt the hint of warmth on my skin. The Sea Witch’s fortress was perched like a malevolent barnacle on the final ledge of the cliff, before the long uninterrupted plunge down. I could feel rather than see it; like a faint tremble on my scales.
The door to the fortress was a hatch, and my fingers told me immediately this was neither coral nor rock. Somehow it was made of all metal. Smelting ore beneath the ocean was a difficult undertaking, and this much of it was more than my father could have dreamed of having.
I turned the hatchway, flinching slightly as it ground open with a low groan. It didn’t matter. I had no doubt that the Sea Witch, my darling grandmother, had known I was approaching long before I even touched her door.
Her glowing eyes were already fixed steadily on the entrance by the time I levered it open. No one knew her name—even I didn’t, and I was related to her. She was simply the Sea Witch and feared as such. I hovered there on the threshold and took her in with a pounding heart.
Her face was as white as all creatures of the deepest dark with eyes that burned yellow, while her tail was the kind of black that disappeared into the shadows. However, it was her curved and pointed teeth that were revealed in a terrifying smile that I could not keep my eyes from. Her voice came at me like an unexpected harpoon. “Granddaughter, I have been expecting you for days.”
I managed to repress a shiver, since I did not want to let her know how her use of the word terrified me. Suddenly my father’s mother seemed as welcoming as gentle seaweed. How this creature had produced a daughter lovely and kind enough to entrance my father was a mystery—one that I was not going to ask about.
I cleared my throat, painfully aware of how my gills were trembling more than usual against my skin. “I have come to ask a boon—”
“Do not waste my time using your father’s words.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “Tell me what you really want and quickly!”
“I want a man of the surface world,” I blurted out, completely caught unawares by my own boldness. Had she somehow forced those words out of me, from my own inner depths?
My other grandmother would have fainted, but this one merely inclined her head. “Still a better choice than your mother made.”
I managed to cram back a defence of my father, and watched as she swam up towards the ceiling of her strange iron home. It took me a moment to realize that she had a surface! Through the geometry of the building, she had managed to trap a portion of air in the top section. I followed her instinctively.
We surfaced together, and I heard a faint thumping noise, which momentarily distracted me from the curve of her workbench covered with all sorts of delights.
“A small pump keeps the air from going stale,” the Sea Witch commented, before gesturing me over to a section of her table.
Immediately nothing else mattered to me. My heart was racing as I looked at a pair of gleaming brass legs that lay there. I ran my eyes over the exquisite workmanship in them. The shape was made with hundreds, if not thousands of overlapping scales, that nonetheless formed the shape of the thing I desired most. I jerked my head to the right and peered down. Yes, indeed they were hollow in the middle, and thus meant to be worn.
When I stared up at the Sea Witch, I almost couldn’t choke out the words. “Are…are they for me?”
Her smile was, I thought, meant to be kind. “I felt it in the deep currents that my blood was looking beyond the water for its purpose. I have been working on these legs for many moons now, but I never imagined they would be for you in particular…just for one of my daughter’s girl.”
I didn’t even think why she would have made me such a thing. Instead, I darted forward, wrapping my fingers around them, but her freezing cold hand pulled me back by my shoulder. I sucked in a huge breath, as my syrienne grandmother grasped me under the chin and examined me. She turned my head from side to side, as if deciding how much of her own self was in me. It was hard to tell exactly what she thought because not once piece of her expression changed.
She produced a vial of black liquid that was contained in a clear whelk shell, and sealed with some kind of wax. “Before you put on the legs you must drink this.” When I made to reach for it, she snatched it back and waggled her finger. “You must understand several things, granddaughter. The clockwork legs will split your tail within their workings, so the pain will be constant and excruciating.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything. I did not fear pain, but I did fear days of never ending sameness and just being another daughter of Triton.
“And then there is the potion,” she said softly. “It will allow your tail to transform, and give you lungs instead of gill
s, but it will also steal your voice, forever.”
By the way she paused, I knew she was ready for me to turn tail and swim away. Instead, I looked her full in the eyes when I spoke. “What is the point of being able to sing, if there is no one who understands me to hear?”
A flicker of something that might have been sorrow passed over her face. “Sacrifices must be made to get what you want. The question is, do you have the will required?”
I stared down at my hands for a moment, at the webbing between my fingers, and thought of what I would be giving up. My family would still be my family, but it would be different, and I would never be able to visit my father’s kingdom again. Once I accepted that, I thought on deeper things; how I had never felt right at home like my sisters did. I’d always fought the feeling that I wasn’t in the right place. If I turned away now I would be condemning myself to a lifetime of that, while Above there was the man with the beautiful eyes. And hope.
On a surge of fear, I grabbed once more for the legs, ready to pull them into the water and do the thing right there. The Sea Witch stopped me again, but this time a little more gently. “Not here,” she said, “the legs cannot survive in water. I will wrap them for you and you must take them Above.” She placed her hands on the knee joint, and with a flick of her fingers released a pair of brass keys that were imbedded there. “One important thing; you must make sure to keep them wound, and they will give you the freedom of the Above.”
As she turned to wrap the legs, I stopped her by laying one hand on hers. “Why did you really do this?” I asked, determined that at least I should know my feared grandmother’s reasoning for making such a thing.
The Sea Witch had her back to me, her short, pale hair plastered to her skull, the dripping of water down her back was so strange, but somehow I kept my eyes fixed on it. “I did not know they would be for you, but I have had the idea for them for years. If your father is ever to keep the Underwave kingdom safe, then we may need soldiers that can go Above.”
It was a pretty—if disturbing story—and I wasn’t sure if I quite believed it. The syriennes and the Sea Witch in particular had never shown much interest in protecting our world. Instead I imagined conquest might be her real reasoning.
It should have stopped me, but I considered that if I took the prototype, it might stop her. That and I could warn my prince if it looked like my suspicions might be justified.
The Sea Witch finished stuffing the legs inside a long, clear seaweed pod. She sealed the end of the pocket with a little burning implement, and pushed the whole bundle into the water close to me. Then, she pressed the bottle into my hand.
For a moment we looked at each other, and then she sighed. “Like your mother I see, for all the good and bad it will bring you.”
Then, without further explanation, the Sea Witch ejected me from her house, leaving me clutching the pod with the legs in one hand.
I hovered there for a long moment, outside the iron door, clutching the thing she had made.
My brain was spinning, but I knew one thing—I could not dare go back to the castle. If my father found these legs he would know immediately that they came from her, and would dispose of them accordingly. Also, lingering in the back of my mind was the understanding, that if I went back, saw the faces of my other grandmother and my sisters, I might never do anything at all.
So I turned my own face upwards, already grasping the pod, but then I stopped—just for a moment hovering between the Above and the below. The Sea Witch was watching me with nary a sign of what she was thinking. On impulse, I leaned forward and planted a kiss on her freezing cold cheek. “Thank you, grandmother,” I whispered into her ear. “Thank you for everything.”
Then before she could say anything and spoil the moment, I flicked my tail hard and began to swim to the Above. I let the tides and currents of Mother Ocean lead me back to where I had seen my prince. When I surfaced, gasping and wide-eyed, it was luckily night. The stars seemed to me to be sparkling extremely brightly, and the moon a gleamed like a pearl in the black. With a smile on my face, I swam to the shore and beached myself as far as the waves could get me.
I lay there, looking up at the night sky, enjoying for one last moment my gills, and my tail. Then, I began to sing. It was the only memory I had of my mother. She had died shortly after my birth, so perhaps my recollection of the song as hers was not possible…but it was all I had of her. The song filled me and gave me strength. However, it couldn’t last forever.
As the last notes died in my throat, I pulled open the vial of oily liquid that my syrienne grandmother had given me and downed the whole thing before I could give into fear.
The effect was immediate and terrifying. I felt as though I had swallowed a bag of knives. I would have screamed, but my throat was suddenly swollen and unable to let even a squeak past. As I rolled in agony on the smooth sand, some small, sane part of me knew I didn’t have much time. With numb and fumbling fingers, I managed to tear open the seaweed pod. The legs were so very heavy, but I jerked them out with my shaking hands, and without thought jammed my beautiful, iridescent tail into the opening.
There was no more Lorelei, there was only the exquisite dance of pain in my nerves. The specks of stars darkened and fell in my consciousness, as the combined weight of the potion and my grandmother’s device tore my tail apart. It tore me apart and scattered me on the ocean and the shore.
However, eventually and miraculously, I came back to myself. I lay on the sand for a while and felt the pain subside. As my grandmother had warned, it did not go away entirely, but after the utter agony that I had suffered it actually felt good. As the dawn began to make itself known on the horizon, I finally levered myself upright and looked down.
I had legs—legs of gleaming brass. I flexed them experimentally, and they moved to my command. Through the pain a slow smile flickered on my lips. I couldn’t wait, I pulled myself upright. My head swam at the sudden elevation, but the Sea Witch’s device seemed to know what it was doing. I did not fall down, instead I staggered a few cautious steps.
However, there was something that the Sea Witch had not warned me about, something that made my heart ache; the legs made music when they moved. It was the faint clicking music that I had last heard when my sister had brought home a music box she had found floating after a shipwreck. It sounded so much better and prettier in the world of the Above.
I pulled my dark hair down over my shoulders, glad at least that it was still so long that it would provide some coverage. Humans, I knew were very strange about obscuring their naked bodies.
I turned myself towards the palace on the hill, and soon I found I was running towards it. It was not the speed that my tail had once been able to give me, but it was nonetheless exhilarating. The music of the legs surrounded me, and announced my arrival long before I got there.
My father had spent a great deal of time telling me about the cruelty of humans, but none of it had really sunk in…or perhaps it had been washed away in the eyes of my prince.
Women were running towards me now, perhaps thinking I was in distress, being naked and wearing brass legs and all. They couldn’t possibly know that I was crying tears of joy not ones of fear. After the pain of the transformation I was incredibly brave.
I was an object of surprise to them naturally, but they did not hurt me. Instead, I was wrapped hastily in blankets and brought inside. All I took in straight away was the smells, but it wasn’t as if I could name any of them. The huddle of women were asking me a barrage of questions that I couldn’t have answered quickly enough even if I had my voice. They had a particular smell that I had nothing to base on, so I couldn’t decide if it was good or not. I decided to think of it as pleasant.
They hustled me upstairs to the palace, and in the way of humans quickly had me wrapped in their clothing. It was the first time I had worn anything so covering, but I tried my best not to let it show.
Finally, the woman stood around me and slowed down with their
questions. One in particular, with long, red hair like my sister Nerissa peered down at me, head tilted, examining my legs, or what of them could be seen under my skirts. Nervously, I slid my hand against my knee, and wound the key so that I would not be caught short if I needed to run.
“What is your name?” the girl said, slowly and loudly as if I was deaf.
I mimed the fact that I had no voice, even as my grandmother’s device played on merrily.
The women exchanged surprised glances, but before they could ask anything else a loud voice called out. “Make way! Make way for the King!”
A barrel-chested man with grey hair soon had the women scattering before him. It was indeed the King of the Above. Even without the herald it would have been apparent from his bearing and the narrow band of gold he wore on his head. Surprisingly, he did not look that different than my own father.
The tiny, nervous fish fluttered in my stomach as he approached.
He examined me with a hard eye and then my legs even closer. When I mimed my lack of voice again, he had me open my mouth and looked down my throat. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking he would find.
“I do not think this girl is much of a spy,” he muttered. “More like some strange experiment escaped from a mad tinker. Not the first we have seen either.” He dismissed me by simply turning and walking off.
Apparently that was all that was needed to make my arrival all right. The ladies descended on me once more, like I was some exotic pet, and swept me into their world.
For the first few days I did not see my prince, but I did see a lot of his sister. I found out, the girl with the red hair was Princess Iria, and she made me her project of the moment. I knew all about bored princesses and the things they did to amuse themselves.
Perhaps it was my silence, perhaps it was the marvel of my legs, but either way she kept me company. She also kept up a constant stream of conversation, most of which washed over my like warm waves and departed imparting nothing. However, sometimes there were pearls in the rocks.
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