Submerging (Swans Landing) (15 page)

“They’re using both songs,” Josh whispered at my side. He didn’t tear his gaze away from the group. “The songs of earth and water in one.”

He was right. I could hear and feel the notes of both songs, but they were combined into a melody I’d never known was possible. In Swans Landing, we rarely used the earth songs and I’d never heard of anyone mixing it with a water song.

The song grew louder, drumming in my ears and making me gasp for deep breaths. Gold bursts sparkled at the sides of my vision. I felt alive and strong

On the sand, all of the finfolk had their hands on the woman. She writhed, moaning, as her body changed from finfolk to human. The scales dissolved into skin, her tail fin sliding back into place as toes. The gash in her side changed too. As her body remade itself, the skin fused together, closing up as neatly as if it had never been torn. Only the red smear of bloody water on her skin remained as evidence.

When the song ended, the woman sat up. “I am well,” she assured her friends, giving them a grateful smile.

The finfolk helped her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily a moment, but then seemed to be perfectly healed.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as the effects of the song still lingered within me. I stepped forward.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

The finfolk turned toward me, their heads whipping my way at my question. We looked at each other for a long moment, no one daring to move.

Their gazes flickered toward the palace behind us and then they turned back to the water, diving in without another word.

I turned to Josh. “Did you see that?”

He nodded, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know anything like that was possible.”

Tingles of excitement flooded through me. “If the songs can be used to heal, maybe I can do it for my mother and fix whatever is wrong with her.”

Why hadn’t we thought of this before? Back home, we used a water song to help new finfolk transition between forms with less pain. The songs could be used for comfort, so why not healing? Since we were connected to both land and water as finfolk, the two songs combined together spoke to both parts of our souls. It made so much sense.

But Josh looked doubtful. “I’m sure if that could be done, Domnall has already tried it.”

I clenched my fists at my sides. “We don’t know that. This might be what she needs to make her better.”

“And what if she never gets better?” Josh asked quietly.

His question sent a chill through me and I gritted my teeth together.

“She will,” I told him. “She has to.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Mama?”

She sat in the dry grass near her cottage, her dull hair blowing in the breeze. She faced the sparkling water that surrounded the peninsula, her lips curled into a small smile.

My mother didn’t turn as I approached, so I sat down next to her, my movements slow to keep from startling her. As I crossed my legs, I realized she was humming softly as she sat there. I cocked my head, listening to the melody of her song.

It was familiar, but it wasn’t a finfolk song. It was a church hymn, one I’d heard many times in the Swans Landing Fellowship Church. Grandma used to make me go when I was a kid. The other people—the humans—didn’t like our presence there, so we’d always come in a few minutes late, sit in the back pew, and leave a few minutes early to avoid stares.

“Do you remember Swans Landing, Mama?” I asked softly.

Mama shifted in the grass, smiling wide. “It’s going to be a beautiful summer,” she said, her eyes still on the water. “It’s always exciting when the tourists start coming, especially the new people. We all pretend to be ordinary, like them.” Her smile faded a little. “It’s fun to pretend I could be like them. Able to go anywhere I wanted.”

Her words surprised me. From all the stories I’d heard about my mama and the pictures I’d seen, she’d always seemed so happy in her life on the island. I had always thought the only reason she’d left was because of my daddy’s death and what happened after between the humans and finfolk.

“You wanted to leave Swans Landing?” I asked.

“I told him I want to see everything there is to see in the world,” Mama said. “He promised he’d take me one day.” She frowned and looked down at her hands. “But that’s impossible.”

Something sharp twisted in my stomach. She must have been talking about my daddy and the plans they had made together. I tried to picture them, sitting on the beach back in Swans Landing, planning out a life together they would never get the chance to have.

I had to try to make her better. I hated seeing her like this, stuck inside her own head.

“Mama,” I said, turning so I faced her in the grass. “I’m going to try something, okay? All you need to do is sit here and listen.”

I reached toward her, but drew my hand back when she flinched.

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I won’t hurt you. I need to hold your hand for a minute.”

Moving very, very slowly, I slipped my hand around her bony one. Her fingers were twigs in my grasp, her skin cold and papery thin.

I closed my eyes and focused on the vibrations of the earth under me and the water nearby. I pulled the essences of both into me as I took a deep breath.

I started with a few notes of the water song since I knew it better. Then I focused on pulling in the earth song too.

My hum cracked, the notes feeling raw and wrong in my throat. I coughed, then tried again.

Sweat trickled down my forehead as I focused on the two opposing songs. The finfolk on the beach had made it look so easy. But the songs were so different from each other, it was difficult to combine them in a way that made them work together while still being separate. I managed to make them merge for only a few notes, but I couldn’t hold the song very long.

After a several long minutes of trying, I opened my eyes. The world spun around me and I wanted to sink back into the grass to take a nap.

Mama still sat at my side, staring out into the water. She didn’t seem to notice my exhaustion.

“Mama?” I asked.

I knew it was useless to hope, but a part of me still held onto the tiny fragment of hope that maybe something I’d done had worked.

Mama smiled. “It’s going to be a beautiful summer,” she said.

* * *

Artair stood on the beach near where the rowboat was docked, his back to me. He didn’t turn, even though my footsteps crunching on the sand and broken shells announced my arrival. Thankfully, Domnall had been busy and unable to come with us on this trip to the peninsula and I’d managed to convince Josh to stay behind, so it was just the tall sentry and me.

“I expect your visit went well,” Artair said when I reached him.

I cast a glare his way. “Let’s go,” I grumbled.

He held out a hand to help me into the boat, but I ignored him and climbed in, nearly falling overboard when the boat rocked unexpectedly. The narrow finfolk boat was unlike anything I was used to back home and it made me feel like I’d never had my sea legs.

Artair sat down, boarding the boat with a fluid movement that didn’t cause even the tiniest sway. He picked up the oars and began rowing, pulling us away from the peninsula, away from my mother.

It had been a wasted effort, as Josh thought it would be. I hated going back to the palace to tell him he was right. Maybe Domnall had already tried to use the songs on my mother and they hadn’t worked.

“Why do you insist on being unhappy here?”

I raised my eyebrows at Artair. “What?”

“This is the finfolk homeland,” he told me. “You belong here. Yet, you look as if you would rather go back to the human world. You do not try to find happiness here.”

I crossed my arms. “You wouldn’t understand. This is the only place you’ve ever lived, isn’t it?”

“It is the only place I have ever been meant to belong,” Artair said. “I have no interest in going anywhere else. What would there be for me in the human world, other than sickness and pain?”

“It’s not all bad,” I said. “There are good things. TV and movies. Surfing.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I do not know what those things are, but here in Hether Blether, we have everything we need.”

“Don’t you ever get bored with it?” I asked. “Don’t you ever wish you could go somewhere else, see something new?”

Artair was quiet for a moment as he rowed, deep lines etched across his forehead. He was at least fifteen years older than me, maybe more. I hadn’t really looked hard at him before now, but away from the palace, he looked different. Softer.

“My family is here,” he said at last. “All of my family, back for many generations, have walked these shores and swam in these waters. It is where we belong. It is our home, and it is my duty to protect it.”

“You can’t survive cut off from the rest of the world forever,” I told him. “There are, what? A few hundred finfolk here. You’ll die out eventually if you don’t introduce new people to the group.”

“But that is what Domnall is trying to do,” Artair said. He stopped rowing, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward me. “If you would tell us where your people are, we could bring them back here and increase the finfolk population. We could ensure the survival of our species.”

I clamped my mouth shut, lips pressed tight. Had Artair planned this all along to try to get me to tell him about Swans Landing? He was Domnall’s soldier, I had to remember that. Everything Artair did was at Domnall’s command or for his benefit.

I scowled at him before turning my face toward the village on the other side of the bay. “Take me back to the palace,” I demanded.

Chapter Twenty

Domnall stood as we entered the dining room, beaming at us. “Thank you for joining me,” he said in a pleasant tone. He was dressed nicely, in a gray-green robe the color of the ocean. His hair was loose and shining all around his shoulders. Even the scar on his face didn’t stand out as much, so he looked regal and handsome, like a king in a fairy tale.

The table before him was already full of fruits and fish and breads displayed in gleaming silver trays. My stomach roiled at the sight of more fish. I was so sick of eating fish, I’d do almost anything for a pizza or a cheeseburger.

Domnall pulled out a chair for me on his left and I sat. Josh took the seat across from me. The table was so full I expected more people to join us, but then Domnall sat and filled his plate from the bowls on the table.

“Eat,” he said, smiling again.

Josh and I exchanged a look. After a moment, Josh began filling his plate.

I studied the dish in front of me. The plate was painted with a picture of a large ship and the date 1850 etched along the bottom. The gold bands etched into the rim were expertly done and looked expensive.

“Do the finfolk make these dishes?” I asked.

Domnall gave me an amused smile. “The dishes are given to us by the sea. These are some of the finer pieces we have found.”

Josh paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “You find them?”

“On our beaches and in our waters.”

Josh’s eyes widened. “You mean, from shipwrecks, don’t you?”

Domnall waved a hand. “I do not know their origin, only that the sea brings them to us. We take almost everything we need from the sea.”

I gulped, imagining the humans on a doomed ship who had once used the plate that now sat in front of me. I scanned over the tapestries on the walls, the shields and swords displayed as art, the unseeing statues tucked away in the corners of the palace. These were human creations, stolen from the outside world and brought to Hether Blether.

“Eat,” Domnall urged me.

For a moment, I considered the idea that this might be a trap of some sort. Maybe the food was poisoned so Domnall could get rid of us easily. But he ate the same food we did and when he took a bite without falling over dead, I figured it must have been safe. For now.

“I trust you are enjoying your stay in Hether Blether,” Domnall said. “Your suite is suitable for your needs?”

“Yes,” Josh said. “Thank you for everything.”

“Where is Callum?” I asked.

Domnall’s expression tightened, but he said, “Callum is still under guard. He is well, I assure you.”

“I’d like to see that for myself,” I said.

Josh glared across the table, but I wouldn’t back down on this. I’d barely thought about Callum since finding my mama. All of my thoughts had been consumed with worrying about her, and I felt guilty for not checking in on Callum since we’d left him in that room three days ago. I hated to think of him sitting alone, with the barest slit of a window to see outside.

Domnall wiped his mouth with a gray cloth napkin. “I do not think you are in any situation to make demands. You are a stranger here, and in case you had not yet noticed, I make the rules on this island.”

“Where I come from, people are free to do what they want,” I said.

Domnall’s eyes flashed. “And where exactly is it you come from?”