by Brandon Witt
His words caught me so off guard that I felt the anger slip from me. I didn’t answer him, but for the briefest of moments, I wondered at myself. Was I falling in love with Lelas? I’d considered it before, briefly, or partially wished for it. To finally not have a part of me that shamed both my human and my mer family. To not have to face a celibate eternity alone.
I looked around Therin and found the merman stroking Lelas’s cheek. My anger resurfaced, but not in jealousy, as much as my father might wish. As much as I might wish at very rare times. It was brotherly love and a loyal protection, and nothing more. The revulsion I felt at seeing her cheek caressed was that of a brother, not a lover.
“Does he have to touch her like that? He saw her two minutes ago for the first time, for crying out loud.”
Therin glanced over his shoulder. “I have never seen the meeting of a mated pair. I have only seen unions within our own tribe, with couples who have known each other their entire lives. There are tales of mates discovering each other outside of the tribe, but it is rare, and I have not heard of it in my lifetime.”
I felt my jaw drop at Therin’s words, then craned my neck further around to see Lelas better. “Mated pair?”
Ten
BRETT WRIGHT
We were deep in the heart of the coral reef before my mind began accepting incoming information once more. I was reminded of the countless drives between my grandparents’ home and the University of San Diego campus. Half of the time I would end up at the desired location and have no memory of the trip, having simply traveled on autopilot. This time, however, there was nothing autopilot about the journey. My brain was blowing fuse after fuse as I watched Lelas and the merman travel in front and lead us back to the Scarus tribe. Lelas, always quiet and serene, seemed even more unusually shy and had a completely ridiculous grin on her face. The merman never let his fingers quit touching her. One minute they were stroking her hair, the next, drifting down her arm, then hovering over the small of her back, just above the beginning of her scales.
Mated pair? I’d thought Finn and I had moved fast from meeting and falling in love within a week. But this? Mated pair at first sight? They didn’t even know each other’s names, unless they were speaking privately. Which, of course, they were. But still! Even if they did know each other’s names—mated pair? There’d been many things that had been fucked up about the mer customs over the months, but I’d done a fairly good job of staying open-minded and not judging another culture by human standards, but this? How was I not supposed to judge this?
Thirteen or fourteen mers appeared as if from thin air, some shooting up from holes in the ground, others emerging from what seemed impossibly dense coral reef, some rushing in from behind us. Then they were upon us before I could even raise my hands. I had no way to be sure if they’d been that stealthy or if I’d been too caught up in my thoughts of Lelas. Judging from Therin and Wrell not having even raised their weapons, they’d been caught as unprepared as I’d been.
They were nearly impossible to count, their skin and hair color identical from one to the next, a mass of darkly tanned skin and tangles of long black hair. The only differences were the tails, but even those were nearly uniform. The males had the same aquamarine green with blue markings and the females the reddish-brown hue I’d seen in Wrell’s vision of the Scarus queen. Other than that, they were indistinguishable. Just a mass of bodies surrounding us, long silver blades pointed in our direction.
I felt my body temperature rise. I forced it back down. The last thing we needed was me exploding into a ball of flames. I hadn’t had to regain control of my fire so much in one day for months.
Therin and Wrell didn’t do so much as flare their fins as the Scarus tribe surrounded us. They must have expected such a welcome.
As my shot of fear ebbed, a wave of disappointment wafted over me. The Scarus tribe had even fewer members than the Chromis. Something felt so tragic about finally finding my family, the source of half my bloodline, only to find a dying species. Obviously, there wouldn’t be thousands of mers in the ocean, there’d be no way to keep that big a secret from humans, but at this point, I would’ve been surprised if more than two or three hundred mers were in existence at all.
We stayed encircled by the tribe for nearly a minute, no one moving, not even Lelas’s new hubby-to-be—the coward. At the end of an extremely long, tense minute, the Scarus mers closest to Lelas and her mate parted, and a merman entered the circle, his dark face heavily wrinkled, his long hair white and thinning. From the corner of my eye, I saw Therin jerk back in surprise.
The merman’s voice was soft, and it trembled, as if the act of speaking was wearisome, which seemed strange since he spoke in the same telepathic way as the rest of the mers. “What misguided exploit have you brought upon us on this occasion, Nalu?” He looked over his shoulder at someone or something I couldn’t see. I guessed there were more Scarus than I had at first thought. “Have I not said that the protection of our tribe should not be left to the young? They are distracted so easily.” His gaze returned to us, then settled on Lelas. “And trust too readily.”
The merman beside Lelas, his hand now grasped in hers, bowed his head in front of the old merman, the motion causing his long black hair to cloud up, obscuring both he and Lelas from my view. A movement by my feet caused me to glance down. A dark-red brittle starfish scurried across the sand and disappeared between two crevices of coral. One long, thin arm remained visible, waving back and forth in the water, the tiny tube feet moving in a constant, jittery motion.
The white-haired merman made an impatient movement with his hand, bringing my attention back to him. “Well, out with it, little fish. Answer my inquiry.”
“She is my other half, Laban.” His hair had floated down enough that I could see him look over at Lelas and then back at the old man. “I have found her.”
The white-haired merman’s eyes narrowed. At last, someone who found this as off-putting as me. He swam toward the two of them with a couple of jerky flicks of his tail. I glanced down at the unusually awkward motion. His tail was the same aquamarine color as the other males in the group, but it seemed faded, some scales missing, others thick and yellowed, reminding me of diseased toenails. There seemed to be a thin coat of slimy mucus over most of its length. Even the crescent fin was tattered and frayed. He paused inches from Lelas and Nalu, inspecting them with murky eyes.
At last he nodded and dipped his head to touch Nalu’s forehead with his own before pulling back. “Such has not happened in many lifetimes.”
With that, the weapons around us fell at ease, and the old merman turned and swam slowly back the way he’d come. We and the rest of the Scarus tribe fell in line behind him. So much for someone taking my side on the crazy-making lifemate thing.
We swam in our extended line, weaving deeper and deeper into the coral reef. Much of what we swam through was simply the base, still beautiful and full of life but not as lush and vibrant as it would have been closer to the surface. Often the coral was so dense over our heads that much of the path was in shadow and hidden from the sun.
All along the journey, more and more of the Scarus tribe joined our procession—mostly males, but an occasional reddish-hued female arrived as well. With so many twists and turns, I was certain if I had to find my way out on my own, I might easily occupy all the days of my immortality. Before long, even the route above us was completely sheltered, the path growing darker and the narrow walls transitioning from coral-laden to rock.
After a while, I was willing to bet we were no longer out in the open but inside one of the mountains. At the thought, stupidly, I looked up, as if I could tell from the stone covering our heads if we were inside one of the islands of Hawaii. It even felt like the water was getting warmer. We’d never passed the narrow entrance through the coral I’d seen in Wrell’s vision, unless we’d gone through while I was still in shock over my best friend’s impromptu engagement. However, considering I wasn’t all cut up and ble
eding from smashing through the jagged polyps, it was a safe bet we were arriving from another direction.
It hadn’t taken long for my nerves to settle down, and I was fairly certain I was in little danger of sudden combustion, as long as the Scarus tribe didn’t keep sneaky puffer fish as pets. All hostility from the mers had vanished as soon as Laban had acknowledged Lelas and Nalu’s relationship. Apparently, we were now family. I couldn’t help but think of Syleen and how long it had taken her to even begin to accept me into the tribe, even though my father was a Chromis. I wished she were here with us now. I was certain she would take my side on the insanity going on around us. If I’d had any idea something like this was going to happen to Lelas, I wouldn’t have been so insistent she join us on this wild-goose chase to begin with. Although, judging from her enamored expression, happiness for my friend probably would have been a better emotion. I couldn’t make myself go there. What if she fell head over heels for this guy and he up and left?
Up and left.
Just like I did to Finn. And that’s the rub. I really did love Finn, and I still left. This had heartbreak written all over it.
By the time we reached our destination, I was certain we were inside the base of one of the islands. The light in the tunnels was dim but bright enough to see paths jutting off in every direction, making me feel I was in the middle of a giant anthill. I couldn’t tell what was creating the small amount of light—everything seemed to be from an indirect source.
As the mers paused in front of me, I followed their example and used the moment to look around. The tunnel had widened to the point we no longer had to swim in single or double file. I saw Therin and Wrell inspecting our surroundings with as much curiosity as my own. It made me feel a little better, not being the only one unclear on what was happening, for once. I glanced over at Lelas to see if she was having a similar experience, but she was deep in conversation with what’s his name. Or just staring into his eyes—who could tell?
In front of us, there seemed to be a wide expanse barricaded off with mounds and mounds of dead coral, all the way to the top of the tunnel. Maybe it wasn’t only visitors that would get lost in these catacombs.
Laban spoke, pulling my attention away from the surroundings. He was looking directly at Wrell, Therin, and I. Apparently, Lelas was no longer considered an outsider. “We are entering Queen Akamaii’s chambers. She is in a weakened state. I must insist that if you have news that is alarming or could cause undue stress that you address it with me after your introduction to the queen.” With no further words, he swam toward the top of the coral wall and disappeared, his long, tattered tail flicking with an awkward, uncomfortable motion. Other members of the Scarus tribe followed suit. Even Lelas, still hand in hand with Nalu, disappeared into the darkness.
With a vision of the three of us joining the others, Wrell led Therin and me up above the coral.
Instantly, the opening narrowed, then came to an abrupt angle. If it hadn’t been for the mers in front of us, their tails disappearing in the murk, I am certain we would have smashed into the top of the stone ceiling. Wrell followed the Scarus in front of him without so much as a pause in his momentum, but he quickly clamped his quills together flush with his sides to avoid scraping them on the top of the coral wall as he dove over.
Therin and I followed his example, making a forty-five degree dive over the wall to avoid colliding with the opposite stone wall. I glanced over at him and cocked an eyebrow.
He answered with one of his own. “Sharks?”
I glanced back up. More members of the Scarus tribe plunged over the wall as smoothly as silk. At first I wasn’t sure what Dad had meant, but seeing how the mers had to bend their bodies to enter the chamber, I guessed it was logical. If a shark was chasing them or lost in the tunnels, it would have no way to swim over the coral wall. Although how a shark could ever find its way through the labyrinth of tunnels, I had no idea.
All thoughts of sharks and tunnels quickly vanished as I brought my attention to what was around us. The space was huge, the size of a football field, maybe larger—so cavernous I couldn’t even see the ceiling above us. Mers were everywhere, a huge blur of aquamarine and maroon tails, tangles of black hair. The only variation was the older mers with cottony-white hair.
Like a freight train hitting me, or possibly a shoal of sharks that had managed to make it over the wall, I realized what I’d been missing, what had been staring me right in the face since we’d met Laban. There were old mers in this tribe. I guess it hadn’t really struck me as strange since it had only been six months since I’d sat with my own grandmother, but I hadn’t seen anyone that looked over the age of late thirties or early forties since that time. Here were scores of mers who could easily pass for seventy, eighty, or even older. No sooner had that realization hit than I saw the other difference between the Scarus tribe and the Chromis. There were children—of all ages. Mingled among the adults, were mers who looked the age of elementary school humans, some close to those I assumed to be their parents, staring at us strangers in fear. Others were clumped in groups, their expressions letting me know our arrival was the most exciting thing that had happened to them in a long time. Here and there, I noticed a small baby cradled in its mother’s arms or curled up on the floor of the room.
As my eyes traveled over the crowd, I tried to count but quickly realized I couldn’t get an accurate number. There had to be a couple of hundred in this space. So much for a dying species. I suppose a few hundred mers was far from being off the endangered species list, but there were more mers in this one tribe than I’d assumed to be in the entire ocean just a little while before. Not only that, but judging from the number of babies and children, they were in no danger of shrinking in size anytime soon. For a bizarre moment, surrounded by the most mers I’d ever seen—a sheer number that should’ve made me really comprehend just what a separate species they were—the mers felt the most human they had ever seemed. They were old, they had families, they had babies. I almost expected to see a pet dog come bounding through the open space.
My gaze returned to Therin, my wonderment echoed in his expression. It was so unusual to see any variance from his normal stoic countenance that I almost laughed.
He noticed me looking at him. “Do not speak, Brett. Not yet. Let us wait until we are in private.”
Of all the times I’d been frustrated about my inability to communicate like an actual mer and direct my thoughts toward one person, I’d never been as frustrated by it as I was now. I had so many questions, although it seemed Therin did too. I glanced over at Lelas, who was for once not caught up in her entrapment of love. Her eyes were trained on a mother and baby who were off to the side. The baby seemed to be throwing a fit of some sort, waving its arms and letting off a high-pitched wail. After a moment, the mother convinced it to suckle at her breast, and the disruption faded. I’d thought Lelas had looked ecstatic before in Nalu’s presence, but she positively glowed at the sight of the mother and child. I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling, wondering what the implications were for her.
The scene was too private to intrude. I forced my gaze away from her and sought out Wrell. I expected him to be as serious as ever, but he seemed as overwhelmed as the rest of us. However, he wasn’t looking around the space, he was concentrating on one location, his brows knitted together in confusion, as if he was just about to figure something out, but it was eluding him.
Following the direction of his stare past the countless mers hovering in the open space, I found the object of his inspection. The sight was so completely out of place that again I felt the odd sensation of no longer being in the ocean, somewhere in the heart of one of the Hawaiian islands, surrounded by a bunch of mythical creatures. Roughly sixty yards away, close to what looked like the wall of the room, was a massive iron canopy bed, its dark metal tarnished and a host of sea life growing from its frame. Even so, it was fully intact, as if it had been dropped out of a Victorian princess’s room and had fal
len to the bottom of the ocean. Instead of a mattress and sheets, however, the center of the bed frame was filled with corals and stones. From the glistening specks here and there, there were probably gold and silver pieces in the mound as well. Reclined on top of the mound, in what had to be a most uncomfortable position, was an ancient-looking mermaid, her long white hair nearly hidden under the gold chains, pearls, and jewels that hung from the gold band wrapped around her head. The queen—although not the same one from Wrell’s vision, but wearing the same crown.
A motion on my right brought my attention away from her. Wrell had begun to swim toward the queen. A few mers, both male and female, swam forward in the space between, blades and spears drawn from nowhere. I felt my fire respond. So much for instantaneous family.
“Let him pass. There is no danger from my old friend.”
No one hesitated as her voice reached all in the room. The weapons once again disappeared, and I managed to get myself under control before anyone noticed the waves of heat rising from my fists—at least I hoped so.
The queen rose to a more seated position, the motion seemingly causing her discomfort. “Please come close. I would love to come greet you and your friends, but the trip would take longer than your intended stay.”
Wrell swam forward without any further invitation. Surrounded by hundreds of mers, each nearly indistinguishable from the other, he made an even more stunning appearance than normal—his nearly shorn head; muscle-bound, tattooed, scarred torso; fins and spines flared and dazzling in the motion of progression. A dragon making its way through lizards, who never dreamed of such splendor. All eyes followed him as he drew close to the queen. I was relieved that, for once, my attraction to him didn’t spark an obvious arousal.