Blood of a Mermaid (20 page)

Movement in the waters to his left captured his attention. Mermen. It was too late to swim away, that might be misinterpreted. He couldn’t take the chance that the mermen approaching might be armed, or that they might be part of a larger force. He stayed where he was, hovering at the surface, as two mermen approached and surfaced a few yards to the east of him.

“Greetings, traveler,” called one, invoking the formal salutation between strangers, using the universal language. “Great Neptune’s blessings upon you.”

“And upon you,” Zan responded formally. He saw no harm in playing the role of traveler.
It worked so well in the Atlantic Summer Court, when I met Kae.

“What brings you through these waters this night?” The second merman had a deeper voice and sounded more suspicious than his partner. His words carried a thick accent, as if he was used to only speaking in his native dialect.

“I travel to Atlantis,” Zan lied. “My girlfriend is enrolled for the new semester and I wanted to surprise her with a visit before the new term begins.”
Better they think me a love-struck guppy than some sort of threat.

The mermen seemed to believe his tale and as they swam closer, Zan could see they were Daeira, not Atlantean guards, which would explain the accent. Zan knew the guards in Atlantis wouldn’t tolerate any imperfection in their ranks and demanded even the lowest ranking servants to be versatile in all languages, especially the universal tongue.

These mermen each carried older looking spears, and Zan wondered if they were perhaps hunters instead of actual soldiers. The smaller of the two, the one who had invoked the original greeting, spoke first. “Dark magick abounds in these waters. Did you feel it earlier, with that unpredicted storm?”

Zan shook his head. “I crossed over from the Atlantic Ocean just moments before we met. In truth, I was only surfacing to get my bearings from the night sky, as I might be a wee bit lost. The current here does seem a might unpredictable.”

“It’s from the storm,” the other merman continued, his voice growing excited. “We were out here hunting along the border, you know, real careful like so as not to cross into the Aegean, but the storm twisted us all around.”

So they’re poachers
, Zan thought with a smile.
All the better for me
. “Perhaps it was a summer project conducted by University students? Aren’t they known for playing with the weather?”

The bigger merman shook his head. “Not like this,” he rumbled. “We’ve hunted in this sector before and never – I mean never – have we felt power like this. Down right scary, it was. And I’m not afraid of no sorcerer, neither. Least aways, none that I’ve met. This one? Neptune knows, I wouldn’t want to meet him in dark waters.”

And yet you have
, Zan thought, a part of him relishing the irony. The pair didn’t seem bright enough to pose a threat. In fact, staying close to them might provide needed cover when the guards from Atlantis showed up to investigate, which would no doubt be soon.

“Would it be okay if I were to swim with you two for a while? Like you, I don’t fancy the thought of encountering sorcerers in the darkness,” Zan said, which was certainly true. He had no desire to meet with any of his old professors – although he doubted any of them would venture forth this far from their classrooms, at least until daybreak. Or perhaps they would wait even then, staying within the safety of Atlantis, for the guards to return with the perpetrators. Either way, he’d be better off pretending to be a poacher than chance meeting the guards alone.

“Sure, sure,” agreed the smaller merman. “My name is Yannis, and my friend is Tassos. And you…?”

“Alexandros,” Zan said, using the Greek version of his given name. “Though I usually go by Xander.”

“Well met, Xander,” said Yannis, extending his arm in friendship. Instead of shaking his hand, as was custom in the Atlantic and Southern Oceans, Zan grabbed him by the forearm as Yannis grabbed his arm in a similar fashion, so that the two mermen pulled shoulder to shoulder. Having spent many years of his life in Atlantis, Zan knew this custom of greeting. It was common with the clans in these waters, as well as the Indian Ocean and some parts of the Pacific. The Arctic Ocean was the only place where touching hands or shoulders was not part of the formal greeting. In fact, in the Arctic there was very little touching of any kind, and none between strangers.

After greeting Yannis, Zan repeated the process with Tassos before asking his next question. “So, where are you camped? I hope it’s not too near to this island, as it looks inhabited.” He nodded his head toward the fire’s glow to the north.

Yannis followed Zan’s gaze. “Strange. We hunt these waters quite frequently, and know all the islands in the area. That one is typical of the region, far too small to support a village of drylanders.”

His friend Tassos spoke up. “Is there a yacht anchored nearby? Sometimes the drylanders travel around by boat, anchoring their crafts in shallow waters while they make camp on the sand.”

Zan kept his eyes trained on the blaze of the fire. It seemed his new friends didn’t know about the downed aircraft. He saw no reason to enlighten them. “I encountered no vessels at anchor. Could there be another explanation?”

Both mermen shook their heads before Yannis spoke. “Come, let us take you to our camp, where we can be safe from whatever dark sorcerers are out this night.”

“And whatever guards be out chasing them,” Tassos added with a laugh before Yannis elbowed his stomach. “Ouch! What was that for, Yannis?”

Zan interrupted before Yannis could speak. “Do not worry on my account. I am not a guard in disguise, nor is there any love lost between myself and those in authority.”

“Then come, let us away from this spot,” Yannis said with a smile. “We can share food and relax in the shelter of our cave, and await morning to venture forth.”

Zan took one last look toward the glow of the fire before turning to follow the two poachers. Whatever other skills they might possess, Zan was sure they were good at evading guards, which was the thing that mattered most at the moment.

Besides, there would be plenty of time in the morning to check if the humans on that island were the ones he sought.

Shea sat alone on the sand, watching dawn’s rosy fingers stretch up from the horizon, painting the whispers of clouds in ever lighter shades of pinks and oranges as the sun peeked over the water. If he focused on the rising sun, he could almost pretend he was back in Windmill Point, back on his own stretch of Cape Cod beach looking out over a different ocean. His ocean.

He sighed, realizing his feelings of ownership held more truth than he felt comfortable with. Luckily, King Koios still ruled the Atlantic and would for many years to come.

No way he was going to let Demyan or his cohorts mess that up.

Shea glanced around as he peeled off his shirt and slipped out of his sneakers, making sure he was alone on the beach. Everyone else was still sleeping around the fire pit. He needed to grab this opportunity to seek help. While Howard had finally regained consciousness during the night, and his wife had woken everyone with her enthusiastic cheers and tears, Hailey still hadn’t stirred. She needed a doctor, and fast. If there was any way that Shea could speed the rescue process, he had to try.

Slowly and quietly, he walked to the water’s edge, feeling the saltwater lick at his bare toes. He could see that there was a steep drop-off and not much shallow water. Five feet from the shore, he’d be in well over his head. Which was just fine with him.

In up to his knees, he took one last glance over his shoulder. Seeing no one, he took the plunge, swimming down deep and blowing the delicious saltiness through his gills. He had no idea where he was going, but he couldn’t just sit idle while his friend slipped away. He needed to try to find help.

He wrapped his fingers around his transmutare and uttered the words that would trigger the transformation from human to merman. As the surge of swirling bubbles engulfed his legs, he wondered if he’d ever get used to the feeling, or the momentary paralysis that accompanied the change. He absolutely hated the helpless feeling of not being able to control his own body.

Transformation complete, he flexed his tail muscles, enjoying the feel of the warm water sliding along his scales as he swam further away from the shoreline. Martha seemed to think Atlantis was due east of the island they’d been stranded on, so Shea swam in the direction of the rising sun. They’d also discussed the probability of Atlantean mermen searching these waters for the source of yesterday’s magical disturbance. Martha counseled him to approach any strangers with caution – yes, he was in search of help, but somewhere out there was the sorcerer or sorcerers who caused the storm and the plane crash. Shea promised to be careful.

Now that the storm had passed, Shea could appreciate the exotic beauty surrounding him, the warm sea so different than his own Atlantic Ocean. The small fish that swam in schools seemed brighter in color, their voices lighter in tone than even the silvery minnows back home. Along the rocky bottom, multi-hued corals grew in gigantic clumps, with tiny orange fish darting in and about and a school of hot pink jellyfish bobbing along in a large cluster. Shea saw bright red sea stars clinging to the rocks, their long spindly arms so different in shape and color than the ones back home near Cape Cod.

But no sign of other mermen.

The rumble of a deeper voice caught his attention, and he turned his head to see a family of large sea turtles, their shells a mottled brown and white, grazing on a patch of barnacles growing on some rocks. As he slowed to watch, the largest of the turtles sucked in one of the red sea stars, crunching it between his powerful jaws. Shea recognized them as loggerheads from pictures in one of the books on endangered species he’d read at his grandmother’s house, and from that animated movie about the lost clown fish. They looked a lot like their cartoon counterparts, with their big eyes and classic patterns on their shells echoed on the leathery skin around their heads.

He’d never met one in person, since the waters of Nantucket Sound were a little too chilly for their tastes. Kae had talked about playing with baby loggerheads off the coast of Florida, and he wondered if they were as intelligent as the leatherback turtles he’d met near the Summer Palace, or if they were more like the animated turtles who talked like surfer dudes. He tried to tune in to their specific thoughts, wondering if these turtles had seen any other mermen in the area.

What he heard was two of the female turtles making derisive remarks about his arms. “My arms are not skinny, and I like having hands instead of flippers! Opposable thumbs rock,” Shea said out loud, startling them. The entire group turned to stare at him for a long, awkward moment.

The largest of the males swam forward until he was face-to-face with Shea, the turtle’s enormous black eyes blinking slowly as they considered one another up close. Shea noted the leathery wrinkles piled deep around the turtle’s eyes and along his neck, and wondered how many years this creature had seen.

When he finally spoke,
the old turtle’s voice sounded slow and ponderous in Shea’s head.
You can…hear us?

“Yes, I can,” Shea replied, speaking out loud. He was careful not to make any sudden moves or raise his hands, as the turtle’s hard jaw formed a sharp point at the end, almost beak-like. Shea imagined it came in handy for digging at the ocean’s bottom but it could probably snap his wrist pretty easily.

This is strange
, the turtle said.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a conversation with a merman. Who are you, young one?

“My name is Sheachnadh,” he told them, using his formal name. He flicked his tail, making the golden scales sparkle in the filtered light. “I’m the grandson of King Koios of the Atlantic Ocean.”

Ah, that explains it then. I remember Koios from our last trip out west
, the turtle said, bobbing his head up and down as his prodigious flippers stayed straight out to his sides, each as long as Shea’s arm and three times as wide.
He also has a similar gift. I am called Tartaruga.

“My grandfather can talk to sea creatures?” The news startled Shea, but he quickly realized it made sense, accounting for the origins of the seemingly unique ability. Maybe the king could help him learn to control the voices in his head. He’d need to have a long talk with his grandfather when he returned to Cape Cod.

Shea refocused on the problem at hand. “I’m in need of assistance,” he said to the turtles, his eyes sweeping over the entire group. “Have any of you encountered other merfolk today? I have a friend who is badly injured. She needs help.”

Bring the mermaid to us and we’ll carry her to Atlantis
, the old turtle offered.
We don’t usually offer rides, but we’ll make an exception for the grandson of Koios.

Shea frowned. “The problem is…she’s not a mermaid. She’s human.” He heard the stir of surprise and anger rising from the group.

We have no friends among those who would hunt us to the brink of Hades
, Tartaruga replied.
These days we have few friends among mermen either, as they hunt us to sell to the humans for meat. Give my regards to your grandfather
. With that, the giant turtle slowly turned and swam away, the rest of his family group following after him.

Shea raised his voice so that they would all hear him. “There are dark sorcerers abroad in these waters. They caused the harm to the humans and now seek to capture me to use against King Koios. Please, I need your help.”

At the mention of the king, Tartaruga stopped swimming and swiveled his considerable head toward Shea.
We saw one sorcerer in our travels, exuding dark magick in his wake. He sought shelter overnight with hunters off in the direction of the setting sun, which is why we travel the opposite line now in such a hurry, as should you.

“Much thanks for the information, great one. I will follow your wise advice,” Shea said, his mind churning. One sorcerer? Could one merman have been responsible for the huge storm that crashed the plane? Somehow that seemed even scarier than the idea of a whole team of sorcerers. Bidding goodbye to the turtles, Shea hurried forward on his journey east, kicking his tail fin into high gear. At least he knew the sorcerer was behind him.