I came flush with the thick velvet curtain blocking my way. Eerie, blue-green light cut through the semi-darkness from the thin slits between the walls and the curtain.
“Although their appearance closely resembles human, the Water Fae are not sentient or self-aware,” Madame continued with her narration. “In fact, their IQ level is below that of a dog…”
Something must have happened behind the curtain, for a series of loud gasps and murmurs reached me as the light in the gaps intensified.
Unable to stand not knowing any longer, I leaned closer, tugging the curtain aside a little, just enough for me to peek through.
A large, tall water tank stood in the middle of a spacious room. Twinkling green-and-blue light shone from it, piercing through the waves of the fragrant smoke that curled over the heads of six people sitting at the bar in front of the tank.
They were having drinks and hors d'oeuvres while watching a figure floating in the dark, shimmering water.
Judging by the shape of his body—wide shoulders, well-defined chest, and narrow hips of a swimmer—it was a male, despite the long white hair streaming around his head in the water and a long silver skirt with high slits on the sides. The skirt was more of a long, loin cloth, I realized, upon a closer look. And it was the only clothing the male was wearing.
Madame stood next to the bar.
“Hear the siren’s voice.” She waved her arms in the air dramatically, and the sound of a somber but breathtakingly beautiful voice filled the space.
It was a wordless song—no lyrics. The emotions were conveyed through melody alone. Yet, the suffering in it was so clear, my chest tightened and my eyes swelled with tears.
The man in the tank remained upright, as if suspended in the glowing water. Actually, the light appeared to be coming from him, his pale skin highlighted by the delicate blues, greens, and pinks, which shimmered through his long, silvery hair, too.
Suddenly, a few deep notes of the song ringing through the air sliced me with recognition.
I knew this voice.
It was the same sound that had mesmerized and enthralled me in the cabaret in Paris. I’d heard it on the stage over a year ago.
It had been a different song back then—with lyrics—soulful but not this sorrowful, sung by a man with fascinating blue eyes and a warm smile that always appeared to be hiding in the corners of his mouth, even if he sang a song meant to make you cry.
Zeph.
I shot my gaze back to the tank, searching the face of the person inside it.
He looked paler than I remembered, and his hair was much longer. There wasn’t a hint of a smile in his features now, but it was certainly the same man, the one I’d spent one week with and couldn’t forget.
My heart thundered so loud, I pressed both hands to my chest, afraid the people at the bar would be able to hear it.
“He’s gorgeous!” a young woman exclaimed, raising a tall glass filled with luminous liquid to her lips to take a drink.
A man sitting next to her gave her a side glance. “Looks rather human to me.”
Madame leveled him with a stare a moment before her face lit up with a practiced smile.
“But he is not human.” She gestured somewhere behind her.
The same dark-haired girl who sold us our tickets entered from the side, carrying a large crystal decanter filled with a cocktail emitting soft iridescent light. She refilled the man’s glass.
“Most of the differences between sirens and humans are internal,” Madame continued the moment the girl left.
I spotted Radax, the large, bearded man who had escorted me out of the tent earlier. Now, he stood in the entrance where the girl with the decanter had departed, his huge arms folded across his enormous chest.
“However, there are some physical ones, too. Aside from the ability to breathe under water, as you can see…” Madame made another theatrical gesture toward the man in the tank…Zeph. “Ocean Fae swim better than fish and definitely better than any human.”
With another gesture from Madame, a ripple ran through the water, carrying something that made Zeph’s body arch. He threw his head back, his features crumbling into a grimace of pain, mouth open in a soundless scream.
The singing never stopped, however, making me realize it must be a recording.
It couldn’t be right, bounced around my head.
Why would Zeph be here? How did he end up in that tank?
Zeph’s jaw flexed as he bared his teeth. He shot his hands to the side, his arms and legs rigid and straight.
Two pairs of magnificent fins opened, fanning out from his arms—elbow to wrist. And from the back of his legs—knee to ankle. The multi-colored glow in the water broke into iridescent swirls as Zeph slowly rotated inside the tank, turning his back to the audience who gaped and gasped in awe.
A dorsal fin opened on his back, like a shimmering sail of gossamer silk stretched between sharp spikes reflecting the multicolored lights.
A few people rose from their seats, leaning forward.
“But how is that attached?”
“It looks so real,” someone said, their voice guarded.
“He is so beautiful.” An older woman reached over the counter.
Madame quickly slid in between the bar and Zeph’s tank.
“Please take your seats, ladies and gentlemen. Remember the rules. You cannot touch the glass,” she reprimanded sternly.
With puzzled murmurs and sounds of bewilderment, the audience settled down.
“Enjoy the refreshments,” Madame prompted. Incredibly, all six at the bar immediately complied, going back to drinking their cocktails and munching on their food.
Her smile returned. “I assure you, like all animals in my menagerie, the Water Fae is kept in the utmost comfort. I make sure to maintain the optimal conditions for the wellbeing of my exhibits. Many would not have survived in the wild for as long as they do in my collection.”
I stared at Zeph as he completed his rotation, facing the audience once again. His expression was now blank, the clear blue eyes gazing vacantly straight ahead. If I hadn’t seen this face vividly animated when he was singing, talking, and laughing back in Paris, I would have been inclined to believe there was no thought, no self-awareness behind those eyes, just as Madame had claimed.
But I did know better. Because I never forgot our time together. I knew that Zeph was a real man—smart, fun, intelligent.
It did not matter at all now how the things had ended between us. Locking him in that tank was not right. Keeping him there could not be legal.
Fervently, I tried to decide on the best course of action next. I should run back, find Fleur, and call the police.
As the light inside the tank dimmed, the people around the bar continued to eat and drink, with Madame telling them some out-of-this-world trivia about the food on their plates.
I was about to turn around, back to the gap in the wall I’d used to come in, but footsteps and conversation coming from the distance behind me made me freeze in place.
Huddling into the shadows, I felt thankful for the darkness between the stuffy fabric walls. Whoever was approaching from the other end of the corridor wouldn’t be able to see me right away. Yet the sounds travelled easily enough through the fabric, and I crouched down, afraid to breathe.
The footsteps were coming closer.
Trying to keep the panic from rising, I checked both walls on each side of me. The inside partition seemed to be stretched over a frame. Taut fabric did not leave me enough space to crawl under. The bottom edge of the outside wall was weighed down by the sandbags outside. My attempt to lift it up made a crinkling sound, as the outside panel must be edged with tarp.
“What’s that noise?” Radax asked way too close to me.
“Sounds like someone is trying to sneak under the wall again,” another deep male voice replied.
I stilled again, abandoning the idea of getting out that way.
“Cheap assholes,” Radax gru
mbled. “No one wants to pay anymore. Everyone wants free entertainment. Go check.”
Panic spiked hot in me, despite my best efforts to keep calm and think clearly. Glancing behind the velvet curtain again, I found the room with the water tank nearly empty, with the dark-haired girl leaving while carrying a pile of dirty dishes from the bar.
With not a second to lose, I slipped behind the curtain the moment she left.
Zeph’s water tank was dark now, the black water nearly impenetrable by sight. It was hard to tell whether he was still inside.
With the footsteps getting closer, I dashed behind the bar and crouched low a moment before the curtain swished open.
“Any breach?” Radax asked as another set of footfalls joined his.
“Nope. Must be just poking around from the outside.”
“Well. Let’s help Amira clean this place up. Madame will be bringing the next group soon.”
The sound of chairs being re-arranged around the bar jolted me with a shot of alarm through my system. Next, one of them would certainly come behind the bar to wipe the countertop off or something.
Scrambling for a more secure hiding spot, I patted under the stand that held the water tank. It was just high enough for me to squeeze under it. Getting down on my belly, I wiggled off the rug and onto the packed dirt under the water tank, trying my darndest not to sneeze in the dust.
“Welcome to my special exhibit,” Madame’s pleasant voice greeted a few moments later, followed by the shuffling noises of a group of people entering.
Another group of VIP clients.
How many did she have scheduled for today?
The possibility that Zeph could very well be a willing participant of Madame’s enterprise entered my mind. Considering the amount of money involved, it was reasonable to assume that Zeph was an employee of hers and not a victim.
The memory of his wordless cry of pain, that much more harrowing because it was soundless in the water, combined with the blank, listless expression afterwards rose in my mind. Could that have been an act? Was Zeph that good of an actor?
How well did I know him, anyway?
After all, didn’t he act smitten by me during that week in Paris? He did it convincingly enough to make me believe he truly was. He made me care for him, too.
Dull ache of loss, regret, and longing spread through my chest. I had lied to Fleur, insisting I was over Zeph, but even more so, I had been lying to myself all this time.
The heart-breaking sound of his singing floated through the room once again. Watching the reflection of the green and blue glow from the water tank cast on the section of the floor in my view, I wished I could see his face again. Maybe if I looked closely, I would be able to tell for sure whether he was working here willingly or being exploited.
If he indeed was an employee, showing up with the police would be stupid.
I sighed. If it hadn’t been for Radax and his buddy out there, I would have been back with Fleur right now. She must be losing her mind outside, looking for me.
As quietly as possible—although with Zeph’s voice filling the space, the risk of me being heard was less—I slipped my hand to my phone in the back pocket of my denim shorts. Dragging it out, I quickly turned the sound off, finding no messages from Fleur yet. Could she still be in the bathroom? Then I realized I had absolutely no signal. I couldn’t even text her from here.
Disheartened, I shoved the phone back in my pocket and remained still, listening to Madame’s voice spinning tales.
Another thought buzzed in my head without an answer. Why would anyone pay the exorbitant amount of money just to see an actor, no matter how handsome or talented, float in the tank?
‘To see the things not found on Earth.’
Madame’s words came to mind. For them to make sense, I would have to believe that Zeph indeed was someone from another world.
Chapter Four
As it turned out, Madame had two more groups of VIP clients scheduled for that evening.
My legs started to fall asleep, and my back ached after lying in the same position for hours. The dust and the smoke slithering under the tank made me incredibly thirsty, too.
Finally, the last group of VIPs departed. The sounds of clinking dishes then the sweeping of the broom told me someone was cleaning the place.
More people entered at some point.
“It was a good day, but I’m tired now,” Madame’s voice announced. “Amira, bring dinner to my trailer once you’re done here.”
No audible reply followed, but I wondered if that was the name of the dark-haired ticket booth girl who seemed to be doing pretty much everything around here, from selling tickets, to waitressing, to cleaning up.
“Radax,” Madam ordered to another one of her mostly silent helpers. “Make sure the tank is covered before you leave.”
A few minutes followed before I heard the deep voice of Radax, “Go, get her dinner now, then go to bed yourself, Amira. I’ll finish here.”
“Thank you,” came in a barely audible half-whisper from the girl. Then the soft padding of her shoes on the rugs told me she’d left.
Radax stomped around a little longer, spending some time around the water tank as I lay still as a mouse, afraid he’d decide to check under it.
The edge of yellow tarp descended from above. Then Radax crouched on one side, nearly giving me a heart attack—all he had to do was bend a bit lower and peek under the tank to spot me. Thankfully, he just tightened the metal cord inserted through the bottom end of the tarp and secured the two looped ends together with a padlock.
After Radax left, I waited a little while longer, listening for any sound. All seemed quiet out there.
Time to get out of here.
With a deep inhale to calm my nerves, I shifted closer to the edge of the stand above me, then crawled out onto the rug behind the bar counter. All was dark. Only a faint glow from the streetlights outside filtered through the roof of the tent above.
Poking my head around the bar, I made sure no one was there, then got up to my feet, ready to dash back the way I came.
Before going for the curtain, though, I couldn’t help a glance back at the tank. It was completely covered with a yellow tarp, secured by the locked metal cord on the bottom, the way mall kiosks often were after store hours.
I hadn’t heard it being open or any sound of Zeph coming out. He couldn’t still be inside, could he? Regardless of how they’d made it possible for him to breathe underwater for this long, spending a night submerged in it couldn’t be good for anyone.
Leaning to the tank, I placed my ear to the tarp, listening for any sound from the inside.
Nothing.
‘It was a good day.’ Madame’s words came to mind. She must have made a crazy amount of money today. And that was just one day of the CNE. She could certainly pay Zeph handsomely for his performance tonight.
But if Madame indeed left him here, in this tank overnight, like a caged animal, could it still mean they were business partners? Even for someone as bossy and abrupt as Madame had been, this was no way to treat an employee.
I needed to make sure he wasn’t there.
Inspecting the cord and the lock, I found no easy way to take them off without a key. Instead, I rummaged through the shelves under the bar counter, finding a small paring knife. Using it, I sliced through the tarp, then slipped my hand through the slash and pressed my palm to the cool glass of the tank underneath.
‘Help!’
It did not come as a word but as a wave of hurt and despair, flooding my mind through the glass. The plea was so intense and powerful, the emotion in it made me stagger back; the knife dropped out of my weakened fingers.
“Oh God,” I whispered, suddenly unable to draw enough air with another breath. “You’re really trapped here…”
The desperation in his plea was so intense and real, it left no doubt in my mind Zeph was being held against his will.
I had no time for figuring out how he commun
icated with me, at all.
I couldn’t leave him here.
Rushing back to the tank, I grabbed on to both sides of the slash I’d made and ripped it wider. The inside was dark, but when I touched the glass again, a faint blue-pink glow spread from my palm through the water.
Another hand splayed against the glass from the inside of the tank, right up against mine. Zeph’s face emerged from the darkness into the glow coming from our hands. His silvery white hair floated like a halo around his head.
‘Careful.’
His mouth didn’t move. The warning simply filtered through the water and into my brain.
Unsure if he could hear my thoughts as clearly as I appeared to sense his emotions, I whispered, “How can I get you out of there?” making sure to articulate each word for him to read my lips if needed.
‘Up.’
His mouth still didn’t move, but he lifted his gaze to the top of the tank.
I nodded, taking my hand off the glass. Immediately, everything went quiet again in my head. The communication line we had shared while I was touching the glass broke as soon as the contact was gone.
Rushing around the bar, I moved one of the barstools closer to the tank, then climbed up on its glass roof, using both hands while holding the paring knife between my teeth.
The glass proved strong enough to support my weight. I sliced through the tarp here too, then patted the glass with both hands in search of a door, a handle or an opening—anything that would help me get Zeph out.
‘Here.’
He slid his hand along the glass from the inside. A green-blue glow curled through the water, guiding my gaze to the round, metal-framed door in the roof of the tank.
Standing up, I slammed the heel of my foot into the glass of the door. Nothing happened, making me wish I wore a pair of stiletto boots instead of my flats.
Kneeling by the trap door, I inserted the tip of the knife under the metal edge, trying to pry it open. The blade broke the moment I applied pressure to it, and I stuffed the knife into my back pocket with a sigh.
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