The Mermaid's Lament

by Alexes Razevich

  The en suite bathroom was bigger than my bedroom at home, with a glassed in shower that also had a view out to the bay. There weren’t any houses nearby and since Lady’s house was on the hilltop, no one could look down into the shower, but I still didn’t think I’d be comfortable using it. I’d have to eventually. Couldn’t go about my business stinky. Morning would be soon enough to try it out.

  Staring out at the Queen’s Necklace made me think of the Mermaid’s Lament, Calypso’s stolen pearls.

  Why had Saylor tried to frighten me off today, if that’s what the attempt was? Calypso had demanded her necklace be returned. It didn’t make sense for her son to try to stop that from happening, unless Saylor wanted to see California flooded all the way to the San Andreas Fault. But why would he want that? Some grudge he had against Lady?

  Was Saylor telling the truth: the pearls were magical and Lady wanted them for their power to enslave whomever she chose? I’d think that if Lady were that sort of person, some rumor of it would have surfaced by now. Her life was scrutinized down to what color her toenails were painted when she attended an opening.

  Except no rumor of her magic or, for pity’s sake, her goddessness, had surfaced that I was aware of and I’d researched her pretty thoroughly before coming to the interview, because I like to be prepared.

  There might be magic in the necklace, but I didn’t think it was what Saylor claimed, or that Lady was who Saylor accused her of being. I’d keep a sharp eye out though, just in case.

  I yanked the tags off the new pajamas I’d bought, put them on and crawled into bed. The sheets were as soft as kitten fur. I couldn’t even guess at how high the thread count was. The pillows were just the right amount of hardness. I pulled the down comforter up under my chin and was asleep in moments.

  I heard singing. Not singing like we did in chorus at elementary school, but something so musical that I had no words for it. I was on my way to the mountains, walking just as fast as my little legs would carry me, but the singing— The singing drew me into the woods off the side of the road.

  I shivered as I stepped from the sunshine into the shadows the trees cast, but not from the sudden chill. I shivered because woods scared me. Nothing good ever happened in the woods. Mean witches who ate children lived there. I knew because Mommy read me the story. Hansel and Gretel escaped, but what about all the children before them? Maybe there were other witches there. Ones that hadn’t wound up in their own stewpot.

  But the singing drew me on, deeper and deeper into the trees.

  I burst suddenly into a clearing and found the singers. I guessed they were people, but they didn’t look like my teachers or parents or the nice lady at the grocery store. Their skins were shades of blue, purple, and green. They wore dresses like sleeveless nightgowns, all flow-y and down to their ankles, even the boys. They stopped singing when they saw me.

  I must have looked as strange to them as they did to me. One of them, a girl with skin the color of red grapes wearing a silver headband walked up to me and reached out her hand. I was scared, but I took it. Her skin was sun warmed and soft. She pulled me close to her and bent down to whisper in my ear.

  I awoke shaking. I tried to recall what the girl with grape-colored skin had whispered. She’d answered the question I most wanted to know, the reason the fairy queen had changed me, but her words were gone the moment I opened my eyes.

  10

  Mr. Beefy rapped politely on my door and called, “Are you awake?”

  The morning sun streamed through the big picture window with the spectacular view of Santa Monica Bay.

  I hauled myself out of the very comfortable bed and opened the door enough to peek out.

  “Lady would like you to join her for breakfast in thirty minutes,” he said, then turned and sauntered off.

  Time to try that open-to-the-world shower, I guessed.

  Clean and clothed in a new t-shirt, my old jeans, new socks, and my old shoes, I made my way down the long hall toward the front of the house. As I passed an open door, I glanced in and saw Lady seated at a small, square dining table.

  The ‘breakfast room,’ as I thought of it, was large and airy with walls the color of morning sunshine in August. This room faced easterly, so no ocean view. Instead, large windows framed a garden beyond filled with flowers and herbs. This was a different garden than the one visible from the veranda. I recognized yarrow, catmint, lavender, and rosemary. There were more I couldn’t name. I’d never been much of a flower person, and the only ones I saw that I could name were roses in various hues.

  Lady sat at a table built from a light-colored wood. (I could see the legs beneath the tablecloth that covered the top.) There were only two chairs. Was Mr. Beefy her usual breakfast companion? The table was more than large enough for three chairs. Lady had excluded him this morning on purpose, I thought. Or maybe he always ate alone in the kitchen while Lady ate alone in the breakfast room, and an extra chair had been brought in for my benefit. Curiosity made me wonder about their relationship. Courtesy kept me from speculating overmuch. Whatever the relationship was, it was their business and so long as it didn’t interfere with me doing my job, I didn’t care.

  Lady spotted me at the doorway and motioned for me to join her.

  “You slept well?” she said when I’d taken the chair opposite her.

  “Very,” I said.

  She poured tea into a delicate white cup trimmed with gold without asking if I wanted any. “Good.”

  I sipped the tea. Light yellow this morning, unlike the green tea yesterday, with a strong scent of lemon and ginger.

  Mr. Beefy came in carrying a silver tea tray with two plates filled with scrambled eggs and bacon. He set one plate in front of Lady and one in front of me.

  “Thank you, Edwin,” she said, dismissing him.

  Right. Mr. Beefy’s first name was Edwin. Drew had told me that. The name didn’t suit him though. He should have been named Tristan or Alejandro, something faintly foreign and exotic to go along with his looks.

  Lady took a forkful of scrambled eggs, chewed and swallowed them. I ate a forkful of my own. The eggs were scrumptious. I detected cream cheese in with butter, salt, and pepper. I took another bite and wondered if Edwin was cook as well as butler and general factotum.

  When she’d finished a few bites from her plate, Lady daintily patted her lips with a cream-colored linen napkin and set the napkin back on her lap.

  “I’ve been pondering the mystery of why Saylor attacked you yesterday,” she said.

  I paused the forkful of eggs that was on its way to my mouth. “Did you reach a conclusion?”

  “No,” Lady said.

  Well that was disappointing.

  “So,” Lady said, “it seems the only thing to do is for us to go ask Calypso why she sent him.”

  “Us?” I said. “I’d planned to interview the rest of Michael’s girlfriends today.”

  Lady waved off that idea with a flick of her hand. “The other hunters have spoken with the girlfriends. There’s little if anything to be gained there for you. I want you to accompany me to speak with Calypso.”

  She might be right, but all the other hunters were men. I could talk to the girlfriends woman to woman, and that often made a difference. But Lady was the boss. If she wanted me to go with her to meet Calypso, so be it.

  In the past couple of days I’d met a goddess and two demigods. Today looked like meet goddess number two day. A goddess who wasn’t all that chummy with my boss and who probably had sent her son to try to scare me. Oh joy.

  “She’s the goddess of the sea,” I said. “Do we take a boat?”

  Lady laughed. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve arranged to meet her on Catalina Island. She likes a neutral ground, as do I.”

  As it happens, I like boats and being on the water. It looked like a lovely day to be at sea. At least part of today’s work might be pleasant.

  I returned to eating the really delicious scrambled eggs. Edwin, if it was Edw
in who’d made these, could cook, that was plain.

  “No bacon?” Lady said. “It’s quite good. The hogs are fed a diet of acorns, hickory nuts, and organic fruits and vegetables on my ranch in Sonoma County.”

  I smiled thinly and shrugged slightly. “Vegetarian. I eat eggs and butter, but not meat.”

  “Oh,” Lady said, clearly surprised. “I’ll let Edwin know.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  After breakfast Mr. Beefy—Edwin—drove Lady and me to the pier in San Pedro in Lady’s bright red Tesla. I was happy to see she was green in her car choice. I wasn’t fanatical about being good to the planet, but I tried to do my bit here and there. I was vegetarian not so much because I was opposed to eating animals, I wasn’t, but I did think the way we ranched was often cruel and almost always wasteful. I choose not to contribute. I ate organic as much as possible for the same ‘be nice to the planet’ reason. What others did was their business.

  I thought we’d take the Catalina Express ship that could get you from San Pedro to Avalon on Catalina Island in an hour. Or maybe, since money wasn’t an issue with Lady, we’d take the helicopter over.

  Instead, Lady led us to where the private boats were moored. She stepped into a long, sleek, blue hulled speed boat that would have felt right at home in the old Miami Vice television show. I had no idea what kind it was, but it looked like it was going a hundred miles an hour while sitting quietly in its slip.

  Edwin followed Lady onto the boat, then turned and offered his hand to help me aboard. I took it, stepped into the fiberglass and chrome showcase, and settled into one of the contoured seats that looked like they could have been on the deck of a star cruiser. Lady took the seat behind the wheel. Edwin sat beside her. I was perfectly content to be in the second row, since I was pretty sure a lot of spray would be coming up over the bow once we got going. I’m a tad embarrassed to admit I looked for a seatbelt. Of course there wasn’t one, nor did Lady or Edwin put on or offer me a life vest. Maybe Lady, being a goddess, and Edwin, being a demigod, didn’t have to worry about drowning. I was a good swimmer, but not strong enough to swim to shore if we capsized ten miles out.

  We putt-putted our way out of the channel and into open water. Lady turned and looked at me over her shoulder.

  “Do you like speed boats?” she asked.

  “I prefer sailboats,” I said, being honest. “They’re quiet and don’t pollute the sea as much.”

  Lady looked slightly amused at my not-so-subtle dig. “I have one of those, too. I’ll take you sailing some time.” A slight crease formed in her forehead. “Are you useful on a sailboat, or just a ride-along?”

  “Useful,” I said.

  Lady smiled and turned back around. Seconds later we were screaming across the water toward Catalina Island, the bow rising out of the water like a rearing horse.

  About ten minutes out and almost half-way to Catalina I was wet enough from spray shooting over the bow and leaping up from the boat’s sides to start wishing I had something to dry off with. As if he’d read my mind, Mr. Bee–Edwin—reached below his chair and sat back up holding a fluffy, blue hand-towel that he handed to me.

  The towel had an anchor and the words Lady Califia embroidered with gold thread on it. I laughed under my breath. No one ever said Lady was shy and humble. I dabbed at my face, but no sooner got one side dry than it was wet again. Still, it was nice to have something to try to dry off with.

  I stopped suddenly and crumpled the towel in my hand. A frisson of nerves shot up my breastbone. Something wasn’t right here.

  I thought Edwin felt it, too. He grabbed Lady’s arm, leaned over and said something that looked pretty urgent from the angle of his body and the look on what I could see of his face. I raised myself in my chair and scanned the ocean around us as best I could.

  My heart froze, then pumped like crazy. A large whirlpool, not something the Pacific Ocean around here was known for, spun wildly directly in front of us, sucking water down deep into its vortex. I didn’t think it had been there moments earlier.

  Lady shoved the boat into reverse, but the bow was already caught in the edge of the spinning ocean. Her hands squeezed tight around the wheel. I couldn’t see her face, but my guess was her eyes were wide and her teeth clamped together in concentration. Adrenaline had to be pumping through her as surely and as strongly as it pumped through me. I grabbed the edges of my chair.

  The bow careened to the left. The boat’s stern over swung, sending us spinning in a full circle. Water gushed up from all directions, drenching the three of us. I clung to the edge of the seat for all I was worth. Getting thrown out of the boat into that maelstrom wasn’t an experience I wanted. I needed to calm these mad waters before any or all of us were thrown out of the boat. I was used to controlling the elements on land—not at sea, not in the midst of being spun around like we were on a wild carnival ride.

  Calm focus. Still the waters.

  Yeah, right.

  The eddy grabbed the bow again and we started a second spin. I clutched the seat edges as the force of the turn threw me to the side. I put one hand on the slick, wet gunwale and pushed myself back into sitting upright. In front of me, Edwin had been flung sideways as well and had levered himself back up the same way I had. He didn’t look scared, only frustrated—as though he desperately wanted to do something but didn’t know how.

  We’d spun half way around with the bow facing away from the whirlpool when I centered myself enough to use my control of water to slow the whirlpool’s spin.

  As the water directly behind us began to calm, the water in front of us roiled and began to foam. I switched my attention and calmed those waters. The ocean on either side pushed us first one-way and then another.

  Every time I calmed a bit of ocean, another burst into turbulent life. I’d never run into anything like this. I always could make water do my bidding. I closed my eyes and concentrated hard. The mad spinning and jostling lessened. Some force fought my magic, trying to stir the waters again. I gripped my hands into fists and threw my magic into the sea with all my might.

  The boat was suddenly as still as if it was becalmed; the only motion a slight bobbing on the current.

  Lady gunned the engines. My eyes flew open. The bow rose until the boat was approaching perpendicular and I was sure we were going to tip all the way over. Somehow Lady made the boat pivot and we raced away from the reforming vortex.

  We kept going, heading away from the spinning water, and back toward the California shore until Lady turned the boat in a wide arc that swung around the whirlpool and headed us once again toward Catalina Island.

  My heart beat fast against my ribs. My feet were in several inches of water we’d taken on while fighting the maelstrom. We were out of danger but adrenaline still raced through my blood.

  Lady’s shout was so loud I heard it over the engines. “That fucking, lying bitch!”

  Edwin turned and looked over his shoulder at me. I gave him the best “I’m okay” smile I could manage.

  My smile vanished. Something was rising from the water directly in front of us.

  11

  I blinked to clear my brain and looked again. It was still there—a smooth, gray island rising from the ocean. As it rose, eyes as black as oil and as large as Volkswagens appeared—eyes that were laser-focused on us little humans in our puny boat.

  Edwin leapt from his chair and over the windscreen to the bow. He looked tiny compared to the creature watching us with cold, unblinking eyes. A long, thick harpoon with evil-looking barbs on the end appeared in his hand. I had no idea how he’d done that. He cocked his arm, readying for a throw.

  Lady had throttled down the engine, the sound quieting to a leopard roar. The boat bucked and wobbled, the ocean stirred up by the beast’s rise. Edwin had his legs bent at the knees and his feet spread wide apart to give him some stability. He’d shucked off his shoes in some moment I hadn’t noticed. One bare foot was planted on each of the two grip strips that ra
n the length of the bow. Even with the grip strips, it’d take amazing balance for him not to be thrown off. If he was wishing for a life vest, it didn’t show in the confident way he stood.

  His confidence helped quell my panicking heart. I stood, keeping one hand on the chair for balance, and summoned my power over water to quiet the ocean as much as possible.

  It’s not easy for me to manage two elements at once, but I did my best to split my concentration, restraining the ocean with half my mind while calling up fire with the other half. Fire for the beast.

  The beast kept rising, the tops of long, massive arms beginning to show. The tip of one octopus-like arm with suckers as wide as dinner plates snaked from the water into the air. The boat rocked side to side in the wake stirred up by the creature. I readied fire while keeping my gaze locked on Edwin. When he threw the harpoon, aiming for the creature’s left eye, I flung fire at its right eye.

  Edwin’s throw missed its target. The harpoon hung like a wooden tear from the beast’s cheek. My fire had found its mark. The creature roared and thrashed. The water around us churned. The boat tipped, dropping the left-side gunwales into the water. Edwin lost his balance and tipped toward falling. I sent a blast of air to keep him upright on the bow. He spared a nano-second to glance at me over his shoulder then turned back to face the beast, a second harpoon now in his hand. I stopped thinking about fire and put all my focus into keeping the ocean as still as possible around the boat. The last thing we needed was Edwin falling in the water. Or the boat capsizing.