by ReGi McClain
“You jumped into the open ocean on a whim.”
“That’s nowhere near the same level.” I think. One involved personal risk, the other betrayal of a secret. Of course, given how much Seraph and Zeeb bent to her will for this trip…
“It is tonight. Let’s go inside. You’re freezing and exhausted and I’m starving.” Seraph did not wait for permission to pick Harsha up.
Harsha decided it would be wiser not to refuse the dragon’s assistance.
Chapter 32
The fatigue of Harsha’s swim granted her a deep sleep. She woke feeling happy and invigorated. Well, invigorated for her. She greeted Cook with a smile and balanced her plate of donuts on two cups of coffee. She found both Kaito and Zeeb at the workstation. Zeeb held the plate of donuts for her while she set one cup of coffee next to Kaito, and, deciding to get another one for herself later, one near Zeeb.
“Thanks.” Zeeb smiled at her. “All dry?”
“All dry, and your shirt is duly incinerated.” She took the chair next to him and leaned toward the viewing screen. “What do you two have so far?”
“We found the school of fish Kaito marked. So he says. They all look the same to me. Are the others up yet?”
“Still sleeping.”
While she took over the job of watching the monitor, the two men pored over notes and political maps corresponding to the approximate periods various merfolk legends had emerged, looking for leads and talking in excited tones about a clue they found in one of the older legends.
Harsha ignored the chatter. She felt good at the moment and preferred not to ruin it with boring discussions. She watched the dance of the fish instead and let their glittering hypnotize her. Amidst the dancing fins of the fish, she thought she saw a green, luminescent filament. At first, she believed she imagined it, but then she saw another, and another, wafting in and out among the fish. She tapped Kaito on the arm.
“Hold on, Boss. I think we figured something out.”
She watched the scene in fascination, trying to count the filaments and discern whether they were a kind of worm or part of a fish. Or maybe luminescent fish produced luminescent poop. She dismissed the worm and poop theories when all the filaments jerked to the left at once, as if attached to a single source. That left fish. Not a chubby flashlight fish. She’d seen enough of those by now to know they didn’t come with glowy wobble-bobs, like anglerfish. A predator? The chubbies looked calm and made no attempt to get away, though.
All at once, the fish cleared away from the camera to reveal a face. The woman staring into the camera had a striking, alien beauty, with large golden eyes that gave off a soft glow. Unlike the delicate beauty of Phyllis, the mermaid looked fierce and powerful, with broad, well-defined shoulders and angular features. The shining filaments were strands of her hair. Her image disappeared when a webbed hand grabbed the camera by the lens.
Clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her ecstatic squeals, Harsha sprang from her chair and hopped up and down, patting Kaito’s shoulder.
“Just a minute, Boss.”
Harsha grabbed him and tried to force him in front of the viewing screen.
“Hey!” he protested before he noticed her agitation. “What happened?”
She pointed and sputtered before she managed to shriek, “Face!”
Zeeb gripped her arms to still her. “Calm down or you’ll hurt yourself.” Holding her, he leaned in for a closer look.
Kaito studied the screen, tapping buttons and fiddling with knobs. “What happened to the image? What did you see?”
She took a deep breath to stifle her excitement. “A mermaid grabbed the camera.”
Kaito slapped his hands to his face, ran them down his cheeks, and rattled off a dozen curse words. “How am I going to get my camera back? It’s the only one in the world. I can’t tell the scientific community my research got messed up because a mermaid stole my camera.”
Harsha gave him a baffled look. “You find a species that hasn’t been scientifically studied ever, and the first thing you worry about is a camera?”
Zeeb watched the screen. “I don’t think it is lost. Look.”
Kaito and Harsha leaned in.
At first, Harsha saw nothing but darkness, but then she spotted one of the shining hairs. “She’s taking it somewhere.”
“Can you track it?” Zeeb asked.
Kaito sounded affronted. “Of course I can.” Looking sheepish, he added, “But I don’t know how deep.”
“Track it as long as you’re able. Harsha, keep your eyes on the screen. I’m going to get Maura and Seraph.”
Harsha perched on the edge of her seat and leaned toward the screen. She studied the black image, catching her breath whenever a strand of the mermaid’s hair flashed by. She felt Seraph’s heat behind her, the radiating flush warmer than usual. Latched to her arm, Maura rocked and hummed a strange, lilting tune.
The watchers on the boat gasped in unison when the screen cleared to reveal a…
“Is that a bellybutton?” Seraph asked.
“Oh, yeah!” Harsha agreed. “Wow. You could scrub your jeans on those abs.”
Kaito frowned. “Hmmm. That doesn’t seem consistent with the old sailors-lured-to-death tales. Men a hundred years ago liked their women soft and curvy. They wouldn’t have considered ripped abs attractive on a woman. Then again, if they hadn’t seen any women at all for ”
The camera jerked, interrupting Kaito’s lecture. The face they saw now was unquestionably male. He shared the gleaming green hair and beautiful, angular features of the mermaid, but he bared his teeth and crashed his brows together in a storm of rage so intense, Harsha’s heart tripped over itself.
The image went dark. Cursing, Zeeb jumped up from his seat and dragged Harsha and Kaito away from the workstation. “We got their attention.”
Kaito flailed and shouted a load of curses that startled one of the nearby sailors. “I need to document this!”
Zeeb bent and hoisted Kaito over his shoulder, ignoring the scientist’s tirade. He kicked the side of the control room. “Captain! Get your men below deck.”
The captain stepped out of the control room. “What’s happening?”
Seraph, her face pale, turned to him. “Now’s the time to make good on your promise of no awkward questions.”
The captain frowned and shouted in Italian. “But I stay at the helm.” He leveled a finger at Seraph. “And you won’t stop me.”
At the top of the stairs, Maura grabbed Harsha’s arm and tried to pull her away from Zeeb, a useless ambition that sent knives of pain through Harsha’s joints. “Mom must stay.”
Zeeb dumped the still-thrashing Kaito into Seraph’s arms. “Keep him under control.”
Seraph nodded and disappeared down the stairs, and Zeeb made to go back the way they’d come.
Maura stepped in front of Zeeb and put a hand on his chest to stop him. “No. Mom and me only.”
“Not a chance. If Harsha stays on deck, I stay.”
Maura’s eyes filled with tears. “No, Dad.”
A flash of anger marred Zeeb’s expression and for an instant he bared his teeth.
Harsha eased her arm out of his grip and moved to put an arm around Maura. “We’ll be okay.”
His face fell in a torrent of emotions. He wrapped his arms around both of them and pulled them into his chest. He held them until Maura squiggled with urgency. “Be careful.”
Maura grasped Harsha’s arm, her grip vicelike, and ran back to the workstation. Harsha stumbled behind her, staying on her feet because of Maura’s strength and not her own ability to keep up. After sliding to a halt, Maura leaned over the railing to peer at a particular spot on the waves. To Harsha, the sea looked as calm and inviting as ever. Nevertheless, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and chills chased up her spine. She grasped the railing, squeezing as if her life and the lives of everyone on the boat depended on her ability to hold tight to it. A bruise spread across her knuckles where her
clenched hands stretched the skin across the bone.
A feeling, like the faded memory of a tune long forgotten, pricked at her ears. It grew until she discerned a faint, shimmery noise, like dolphin squeals, and rose until it hurt. The song of the merfolk climbed and plummeted in wild dissonance. The sound stabbed into Harsha’s brain, throwing her thoughts into disorder. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and curl into herself, but it held her frozen to her place at the rail.
Maura lifted her voice to meet it. She soared into the upper ranges of Harsha’s hearing. In response to the angelic notes, the merfolk song died down and soothing tingles spread through Harsha’s ears and across her skull, easing her pain. With a gasp, she realized she’d been holding her breath.
Maura’s song stretched out until Harsha lost all sense of time. Even the sun seemed to stand still to listen. When it ended, Harsha’s stomach flipped in apprehension.
“They want you to sing.”
“What?”
“To prove you’re a mermaid.”
“They want me to talk to them? Can they hear me?”
“Not talk. Sing.”
“Sing?” Harsha’s usual pitch elevated itself by an octave. “I can’t sing. They’ll think I’m a banshee, not a mermaid.”
Maura wrung her hands as the sound from the ocean resumed. “If you don’t sing, they will kill us all.”
Harsha took a deep breath. “Cover your ears.”
She sang the first tune that came to mind: Jingle Bells . The ridiculousness of the song compounded the humiliation she experienced at being forced to reveal the extent of her tone deafness, but she felt a specific tune must be better than singing random notes. At least the merfolk would know it was a person and not a dying pelican. After three repetitions, she looked to Maura, hoping to be allowed to stop. Maura’s mouth hung open in dismay, but she waved her hands for Harsha to continue.
Mortified, and hoping her sensitive-eared friends below deck weren’t writhing in agony, Harsha kept singing until her voice grew hoarse. Moments before it threatened to give out, the merman from the viewing screen popped out of the water, looking at her with the same expression of utter disbelief Maura wore. He bobbed down and came back up with several other mermen, all of whom looked flabbergasted.
The first merman swam closer to the boat. “There is no doubt you are a descendent of merfolk, but someone should remove the vocal cords from whatever creature spawned you.” He spoke with an accent that reminded Harsha of Inigo Montoya.
Harsha gave Maura a wry look. “Told you I can’t sing.”
Maura nodded enthusiastic agreement.
Harsha rolled her eyes and addressed herself to the merman. “My name is Harsha Mooreland.”
The merman tilted his head, wrinkled his nose, and lifted one brow. “Are you part griffin, too? I don’t see wings, but your voice…”
She sighed. “Yes. It’s awful. I’m sure I’m not part griffin.”
“Hmm, perhaps not. Your skin…”
Harsha opened her mouth to explain the bruises.
“Ah! I have it. You are Rakshasi. That will explain the odd colors of your skin and the punishing nature of your voice.”
His triumphant declaration made Harsha wince. Her mother had spent little time instructing her and Jason in religion, but she had given them an illustrated collection of Vedic myths, and Harsha remembered the Rakshasas.
She tried to stifle her disgust—after all, werewolves and dragons weren’t so monstrous—but it sneaked out. “I doubt it.”
“Maybe not. It is hard to tell. You better let our doctor check. If you are, it changes the way he needs to treat you.”
She jerked her head back in surprise. “Doctor?”
“Maybe my English needs work. We try to keep up with the modern land languages, but there are so many. Your daughter said you’re sick. Is not ‘doctor’ your word for ‘one who heals’?”
“Oh!” Myriad questions popped into her mind. Not wanting to lose this opportunity to her curiosity, she answered his. “Yes. I do want to see the doctor.”
The merman swam over to where the sub hung in its cradle. “You are sure this little thing can handle the depth?”
Harsha’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. No wonder Maura’s song took so long. She must have told them everything. “That’s what my scientist tells me. What’s your name, by the way?”
“You cannot pronounce it. Not with those vocal cords. Call me ‘General.’” He pronounced it with a hard g. He looked over the sub, peering at it from every angle his position allowed. “How long can you wait before someone comes looking for you? We will need time to prepare.”
“I have the boat for two more weeks, but we’re trying to keep the crew as ignorant as possible.”
“That is wise. I must report to my superiors.” He pulled a spherical object out of the water and started swiping.
Harsha leaned further over the railing, trying to see the surface of the thing. “Are you texting them?”
“Our scientists make sure to keep up with the land folk.” After a moment, he added. “Except, our technology does not work the same as yours. I need to dive to send this.” He disappeared under the waves. Several of the other mermen swan closer.
“Can you swim with those?” one with dark skin and blue hair asked.
She looked down at her legs. “Yes. Not as well as you, but I’m a great swimmer for a human.”
A merman with purplish-black hair swam right up to the boat. “Can you understand the language that is belonging to us?”
“I don’t think so. How do you understand mine?”
“Poorly.” He and several others dove below the surface.
The remaining mermen poured out questions. Harsha struggled to decipher one from another. She was trying to decide what order to answer them in when General popped back up. He frowned and clicked. The others all dove.
“I am sorry. You are the first land-dweller most of them have seen in person. Alive. You are to be in your metal bubble and ready to go by sunrise tomorrow. We will send a few of our pets for your scientist to look at, to give your crew a reason to stay.”
He dove without waiting for a reply. Other mermen peeked above the water.
Harsha addressed the nearest. “Thank you.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners and he swam closer. Then his smile widened and he dove, along with all the other mermen. Stunned, and unsure of her sanity, Harsha watched the spot where he’d disappeared in case he or General popped up with another question or important piece of information.
After several minutes elapsed without a reappearance, she looked at Maura. “You saw all that, right?”
Maura nodded. “Did I do well?”
Harsha pulled the selkie into her arms. “You were amazing! Let’s go tell the others.”
She explained the situation to the captain first, since he had seen most of the exchange. He promised to give his crew a plausible excuse for the order to go below deck.
She found Seraph, Zeeb, and Kaito all waiting in her cabin. Zeeb and Seraph sandwiched her and Maura with hugs the second they opened the door.
“I take it all is well?” Kaito asked. He leaned toward Harsha, brows lifted, arms crossed.
“Better than okay.”
“Great.” He started to push his way past the clump of people.
The group hug broke up and Seraph stepped back to look Harsha up and down. “They cured you?”
“No, but I have an appointment to see the doctor.”
Kaito stopped trying to get by. “They have doctors?”
“And text messaging.”
“And text messaging?” He bounced on his toes.
“And we have to be in the sub, ready to go, by sunrise.”
“We?”
“It’s not like I know how to fix a sub in an emergency, and they said they’d send a few of their pets for you to study.”
Kaito’s bouncing morphed into jumping. Maura, Seraph, and Zeeb shrank aw
ay from him in the small space. Before Harsha could duck, Kaito hopped the space between them and landed another smooch on her lips.
Dodging Zeeb’s foot, he sang, “You are the best patron ever,” and ran down the hallway, whooping and kicking up his heels.
Seraph relaxed. “This is exciting news. For you and him.”
“You should have seen Maura. She’s a hero! She convinced them to let us live and told them everything they needed to know.”
Zeeb pulled Maura into a fatherly hug. “Good job.”
Maura’s lips twitched all the way into a half smile. “I saved you, Dad, like you saved me.”
He ruffled her hair and kissed her on the forehead. “You sure did.”
“So, what now?” Seraph asked.
“Now, I eat. After that, I learn how to drive the sub.”
As she approached the workstation, Harsha found Kaito making notes, oohing, aahing, and dancing.
“Boss! You’ll never guess what they keep for pets.” He hooked an arm through hers in what would have been a gentlemanly gesture, had he not then dragged her to the screen in his eagerness.
She stumbled and used his arm to catch herself. “More flashlight fish? They look like sardines.”
“That’s what I thought at first, but see how the gill curves and the jaw sort of turns up?”
Harsha turned a blank stare on him and spoke in a flat voice. “The short version.”
“I think they’re an extinct species. Well, thought to be extinct, and look, there, in the middle.” He pointed to a splotch of red hiding within the silver. “They’re schooling with a sarcastic fringehead!” His voice soared into falsetto with the last sentence.
Harsha leaned away, amused but fond of her eardrums. “Congratulations. Now, teach me how to use the sub.”
“But I want to study the fish.”
“Kaito, we both need to be able to drive the sub, just in case, and if I’m not ready by five in the morning tomorrow, the merfolk will take the fish away and you’ll never see them again.”
Kaito set the camera down and hurried toward the stairs. “Just let me grab a notepad for you.”
He returned in under two minutes with a backpack. Harsha was about to ask why he brought so much stuff, but then noticed the bag sagged as if it were almost empty. When he reached to grab rungs on the outside of the sub, she understood why he wanted his hands free. He climbed almost to the top of the machine, stopping when his waist drew even with the round hatch that was three-quarters of the way up the side of the submarine. He opened the hatch, swung one leg in, twisted a bit, seemed to find a foothold inside the sub, and then contorted himself to get his other leg through the hatch.
