Into the Deep (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

I’m woken the next morning by Desma breezing in with breakfast, which is more seafood. Thankfully I already enjoyed sushi or else I’d be in trouble. Or maybe not. It seems that when I get hungry I crave raw fish. The scent is alluring. I noticed that tidbit on the journey here, but there hadn’t been time to stop and test it.

As I eat, Desma twists my hair into an intricate braid and I prepare for spending a few hours with Stavros. This will be the first opportunity to be alone with him. A strange combination of excitement, longing, and anxiousness knots my stomach.

Determined to keep myself from pestering Desma about her brother, I attempt to follow her chatter. She’s very friendly this morning and I can’t judge if it’s a show or genuine. Other than her warning to stay away from Nerio, she’d been quite helpful.

After she leaves again, I wait, sitting on the edge of the bed. Fanning my tail out in front of me, I can’t believe how magnificent it is. If I lift it closer to the window, it lightens, the blues intermingling with pink. The power emanating with each movement has me aching to swim, to stretch my legs, so to speak.

A knock at the door interrupts me. It’s Stavros, appearing as nervous as I am.

Offering me his arm, he says, “We’ll start with the palace and then travel outside for better privacy. I need to take a break and taste freedom when the walls press in.”

I listen as he leads me deeper into the palace, grateful he’s unknowingly giving me a second to sort my feelings. As a young girl, I had plenty of dreams about my father and what it would be like to actually meet him. Being near him has surpassed all my expectations, but today will be special, him and I alone. The fantastical aspects, such as his being a merman and king of an underwater palace, fade into the background. I will never forget the next couple of hours.

“The palace itself is hundreds of years old,” he begins. “As you can imagine the walls of the seamount keep us isolated from the eroding action of the tides. In the open ocean it would be in danger of being pummeled by the waves. About three thousand mer live and work here, a little over half the population of the Pacific Ocean.”

“What sort of work do they do?” This information is exactly what I crave.

“Oh, a little bit of everything.” He ushers me into a long, low ceilinged area. “This area is what you’d probably call a kitchen, which we use for community gatherings like we had last night. The hardest job in relation to food is the hunters. They’re the ones who venture out and bring back the meals. I’m sure you noticed most of what we eat is at the lower end of the food chain—plants and crustaceans and smaller fish.”

“Do you eat together often?” The question reminds me of dinner and the merman. I’ll have to sneak that question in, or the dozens of others it brings with it.

“No, many eat in their own homes or rooms. We only gather for special occasions. Lately, there have been fewer reasons to be merry. I hope your introduction was encouraging for my people, despite the interruption.”

Knowing that’s my chance, I prepare to speak as we pass a garden and the words tumble out of my head.

A kaleidoscope of color greets me. The large reef is amazing. Small fish dart in and out of the display. The entire scene vibrates with vivacity. Tall, pink anemones wave in the current, dancing to a silent tune. It’s not only one type of coral either. There’s branch coral reaching up to the light and brain coral, marbled like a special effect from a science fiction movie.

A fist-sized, striped seahorse bobs over and stops in front of me, inches from my nose. I’m captivated by its beauty, the motion of its fins and, as it floats there for a few seconds, peace and acceptance washes over me. My lips turn up in a smile. A raw, powerful emotion passes between me and this simple creature. Never have I felt more connected to nature than I do in this instant. Is it my imagination?

When it wanders off, I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Glancing over to Stavros, the joy filling his face is an image to hold in my heart forever.

He clears his throat and says, “Here we have our own coral reef. A lot of what we eat comes from these areas, so it made sense to create one here. This particular reef has been growing since I was a child and there are five others with different varieties throughout the palace. They also give us dyes and everyday items. As your Native Americans did with the great buffalo, we utilize every minor piece. There’s no waste here, not even from human shipwrecks.”

I’m not sure what I expected, but this blows me away. They have created a sustainable community down here. It’s a simpler approach to living and I find it immensely appealing.

“I’m impressed, I really am. I had no idea you were this advanced.” I cringe at the last word, but Stavros laughs.

“We’ve been adapting and growing as long as humans. Plus, you forget who our ancestors are. The Greeks prided themselves on being more advanced than their neighbors. Of course, we have also learned to use our environment for good. Come, there’s more.”

He shows me a training facility for the guards, another lush courtyard merely for decorative purposes, and a market where mer can trade for food and other items. They have no money system, so their commerce is based entirely on barter and trade.

I’m willing to spend the entire day in the market examining the trinkets and kiosks, but Stavros says I’ll have plenty of chances to explore on my own later, so I reign in my curiosity for now.

In the public areas I’m aware of the spectacle we make, the king and his lost daughter. Thankfully, his people understand our desire for privacy and give us space.

Finally, Stavros leads me outside, into open water. I revel in the freedom and a rush of excitement washes over me. Laughing, I dart forward and execute a series of flips and turns. It’s so freeing to finally move. The tension eases out of my shoulders—tension I didn’t suspect was there.

Turning to Stavros, he’s smiling. One of the truly joyful and unguarded expressions I’ve seen grace his normally stern features. Then, something hard bumps into me and I squeal in delight to see Kona. On impulse, I reach out and hug him.

“I missed you, Zoey.”

“I missed you too. Kona, meet my father.”

The dolphin’s normal excitement doesn’t dim when I introduce him to the king. He zips around in greeting and shows off like the overactive puppy I think of him as. He trails after us, spinning and tumbling without a care in the world.

After several minutes of swimming in silence I glance over at Stavros. His forehead is lined with thought marks and the blissful moment I witnessed seconds ago already a memory.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Your mother, Lindsey, how is she?” There is yearning in his voice and I remember watching Mom reminisce about falling for him and how it transformed her into a stranger. The same thing is happening to him. The hard lines bracketing his mouth soften. His body loosens with the ghosts of youth.

“She’s amazing.”

“She always was,” he says with a chuckle. “Do you miss her?”

I nod. “Desperately, but this is where I’m supposed to be. As deeply as it hurt to leave, I have no regrets.”

“And your stepfather?”

“None.” I gauge his reaction carefully. “She never married.”

“Oh.” He sounds both relieved and upset over this. “Was she honest about me?”

“No.” Shadows flit across his face and I lay a reassuring hand on his arm. “She planned on explaining eventually, but as time passed, the secret grew and grew. The weight of it scared her. It wore her down, keeping this from me, especially as my birthday loomed closer. I knew she was hiding a huge bombshell, but I changed the first time before she ever had a chance to warn me. I was mad at her, a piece of me still is, but I understand why she did it. Protecting me was important, necessary, to her.”

“I am angry with her and Galina for stealing these years from me, from us. Suddenly, a sliver of my soul is complete now, as if I knew you were out there, somehow.” Regret clouds his expression before he changes the subject. “So, tell me about your life, school, friends, boys, everything.”

His expression turns curious, and I hesitate to explain about my artificial leg. I don’t want him feeling guilty about not being there. Yet, I have to mention it. He should know all of me. That’s what this trip, and this time together, is for.

“It’s been challenging,” I hedge.

“How?”

“When I was six, I was attacked by a shark and lost my leg,” I blurt. “Eventually, with the help of doctors and a prosthetic leg, I learned to walk again, but it made me terrified of the ocean, even when I loved it.”

His jaw clenches once, a tight movement of the muscle, and then he yanks me into a fierce hug. “My beautiful daughter, how horrible it must have been for you.”

Sobs burn in my throat, but I keep them there. I gather strength from his embrace. “I survived and manage to move around fairly well, but it never felt true.” I peer up into his anguished eyes. “I didn’t feel whole, not like I do when I’m a mermaid.”

“You’re such a brave girl,” he whispers. “I wish I could have saved you from the accident, but don’t you realize it led you to this moment? You can appreciate this form because of the trials you faced on land.” A heavy sigh escapes his lips, sending a trail of bubbles upward. “I should have been there.”

There’s wisdom in his words, so I tuck them away, keeping them close to my heart. “You can’t say that. If you were there, it still might have happened. Mom’s been awesome. Her support lifted me up, kept me sane.”

“This makes your adaptation to your mermaid form more impressive. Your movements are so fluid.” He touches my chin. “I’m proud of you.”

“It is so awesome to swim, to stretch and let the muscles work. It will always amaze me.”

“I’ll have to teach you some tricks then. Show you how we play.”

“The mer play?” I ask, grateful for the change of subject and happy I shared this with him. Stavros is easy to talk to, which causes a small pang in my chest because so is Mom.

He laughs dejectedly. “Of course they play. Their king does not.”

I pick up the humor in his statement. “That’s a valid point. Who would tackle the ruler of the kingdom?”

“They’d let me win,” he confirms. “We used to have Mer Olympics, but we haven’t done those for years. Maybe once this current threat is contained we can create new games between the oceans. It’d be a great opportunity for you to learn.”

“Sounds awesome.” I consider what he said about not playing. “Are you happy being king? I mean, what is it you do?”

My question startles him and he pauses. “I enjoy it more than I figured I would as a young merman. It’s my destiny and I’ve accepted it. As far as what I do, I oversee the hunting and training and keep up relations with the other kings. There’s a lot of decision making, listening to endless ideas and disputes. Often it seems as if there is never a free moment.”

“And what about threats, like Calandra and the things she’s doing?”

“You’ve heard about her?” He frowns. “She’s a barnacle in my side. It’s hard to differentiate between fact and fiction where she is concerned. There are too many rumors.”

“Including how she’s causing the oceans to rise in order to attack humans.”

His brows knit together in concern. “How did you hear all this?”

To keep Nerio out of trouble I say, “Galina, she told me bits and pieces.”

He nods. “I guess it’s only natural, everyone is on edge. Since you’re here, you are entitled to know, especially after you may have already been made a target. Recently, the merwitch has increased the intensity of her assault on the surface. Her powers are growing faster than anyone predicted. If I knew where she was, I’d go after her today.”

“What happened to the merman? From last night?” I ask timidly, afraid of the answer.

“He’s being detained. I don’t plan to hurt him, although many expect me to make an example of him. He was relatively new to our kingdom and I’m beginning to think he was sent here as a spy. I didn’t take the threat seriously until now and have been naïve about suspecting my own people. Calandra has to be reckoned with.”

The chance to know my father is a precious gift and the possibility he might leave to battle this evil mermaid scares me. I steer the subject in a less volatile direction. “Do we really have power? Is it figurative or real magic?”

Catching a flash of teal in the edge of my vision, my gaze is drawn to my tail. Of course it’s real magic. All I have to do is look at what I’ve become to know that, along with the miracle I bear no scars from my previous body. Magic healed me.