The Girl Who Chose

by Violet Grace

  ‘Sort of,’ I say. ‘We have mutual interests. They’ll help if they can. Maybe.’

  I reach for the Voynich manuscript but my father snatches it up and hugs it to his chest.

  ‘I’m going to need that,’ I say.

  ‘But it is the only original in the world.’

  ‘Which is why I need to take it to the mermaid queen.’

  He looks pained. ‘If something happens to this book we may never find your mother.’

  ‘If we can’t read it we may never find her either.’

  ‘This is a big risk, Chess. I need to know you’re going to keep it safe.’

  I’m temporarily lost for words. He’s talking to me like a father again. And, quite frankly, it’s a little late for that.

  ‘I was capable of surviving on my own and practically raised myself. I think I can look after a book.’

  My father bites his lip, just the way I do, as a blush of shame creeps across his face.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he says, handing it over.

  ‘Come with us if you like,’ I offer.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To find some mermaids. I’m just not entirely sure how.’

  ‘They’ll find you by the taste of your blood,’ Tom says.

  I raise my eyebrows.

  ‘Legend has it that one drop of blood in a body of water is sufficient to summon a mermaid,’ Tom says.

  ‘Seriously?’ I ask. ‘Just one drop of blood in all that water, and the mermaids will come?’

  ‘One drop is all you need to alert them to your call. That doesn’t necessarily mean they will come.’

  Tom and I follow my father through winding corridors as he leads us out into the gardens.

  My eyes dart around. ‘Do Agent Eight and her thugs patrol the grounds?’

  The colour drains from my father’s face. ‘I can’t say. They haven’t been here long enough to establish a pattern.’

  ‘If anything happens, run,’ I say. ‘I’ll fly out of their range and then come back for you.’

  ‘I’ll keep a look out.’ Tom plants a kiss on my cheek. ‘Give you some time with your dad.’

  He transes in a cloud of shimmering dust. Majestic white wings sprout from his wither, beating rhythmically.

  My father’s jaw drops in wonder as Tom takes to the sky. ‘Now that’s a sight I didn’t think I’d ever see again.’ He tilts his head back to watch Tom circling above us. ‘I like him’.

  ‘I’m not sure he likes you.’

  Samuel chuckles but there are shadows in his eyes. ‘A rational response.’

  The river at the end of the villa garden is connected to the canal system of the main islands of Venice. When we reach it, I turn to my dad.

  ‘Don’t suppose you have a knife?’

  Samuel shakes his head, confused.

  I scan the ground for a sharp object but find nothing sharp enough to make a cut. Then I realise I’m holding what I need. A paper cut will do. Flicking open the Veritas, I steel myself for the sting and swipe my thumb down the edge of the parchment.

  I wince as the page slices my skin. It goes deeper than I intended. My dad turns white, but I suspect it has less to do with the sight of blood and more to do with my defacing a precious artefact.

  Handing the book to him, I hold my cut finger out over the canal. A drop of blood rolls off and dissipates in the mass of water.

  I bite down on my thumb to stop the bleeding as I stand shoulder to shoulder with my dad, both of us peering into the water.

  I can feel him sneaking glances at me. Just the way I keep doing with him. I have no experience with fathers; I’m not sure what to do with one.

  ‘Do you want to sit?’ I say. ‘I don’t know how long it will take for the mermaids to pick up on my scent. If they will at all.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he says, seeming happy to have something to do.

  As I sit down next to him, I remember that I’m still in the human realm. I soften my focus so I can see the mermaids if they approach in Iridesca.

  I watch my dad trace his fingers along the leather binding of the Voynich.

  ‘What will you do when we find her?’ I say. ‘Will you return to Albion?’

  ‘I doubt I would be welcome,’ he says warily. ‘I’m certain the Order were pleased to see the back of me and it’s unlikely that will change. Especially since my one and only supporter is gone.’

  ‘Gladys was my only real supporter in the Order too.’

  He looks out across the water. ‘I owe Gladys a great debt – one that I was never able to repay. She counselled your mother to let her heart be her guide. She said that great love was not a moral weakness as the Order had claimed, but her duty. Her true purpose.’

  True purpose? Goosebumps spring up along my arms.

  ‘That doesn’t sound very Fae,’ I say slowly. ‘Gladys said the Fae are governed by the laws of nature. Nature doesn’t care about love.’

  ‘My dear Chess, nature is love.’

  I gape at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look at the abundance of beauty and joy that resides in every flower and tell me that you cannot see love.’

  He looks up at the sky, swirling with the yellows, oranges and reds of dawn. Tom dips his wing towards us.

  ‘The sun rises on us each day, even when we don’t deserve it,’ Samuel continues. ‘That is forgiveness and optimism; that is love. Nature feeds us, gives us air to breathe, the materials to make shelter. Nature is the source of our life. Our mother. And what is the greatest gift of any mother?’

  ‘Love,’ I say, choking on the word. I’ve never thought of nature or love in those terms before. I take a deep breath. ‘Gladys warned me just before she died not to let anything distract me from my true purpose or I would ruin everything we hold dear. Do you think … she was talking about love?’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ he says immediately. ‘There is no higher purpose than love. There is also no greater risk. For the more we love, the more we have to lose. But if we don’t choose love, then what’s the point of anything?’

  He reaches out and squeezes my hand. ‘Life is precious and fleeting. We all have a duty not to squander it.’

  I ponder these words as I spot a flurry of bubbles in the canal in Iridesca, followed by the flash of a tail beneath the surface. Tom swoops down to us, transing as his hoofs touch the ground. I jump to my feet and take the Veritas from my dad.

  ‘The mermaids are here,’ I tell him. ‘I’m going to have to leave you in Volgaris for a bit. But I’ll come back when I can.’

  My father opens his mouth to object.

  ‘They’re skittish, Dad. It’s best if you stay here.’

  He stands and pulls me into a bear hug. ‘Be careful, my girl,’ he whispers into my hair. ‘I cannot lose you again.’

  Tom gives a curt nod to my father and carves a portal to Iridesca. We step through and Rena’s head pops up out of the water right in front of us. She looks puffed, and even more unimpressed to see me than usual.

  ‘I just swam ten thousand tails to be here, legs. This had better be important.’ She flashes her flesh rippers at me. It makes me think of the last time I saw them – locked onto Wynstar’s jugular.

  ‘I need a word with your boss,’ I say.

  Rena is eyeing Tom, much the same way she did to me when she was intending to feast on my organs.

  ‘Well hello, pretty boy,’ she says, then looks back at me. ‘You’ve got yourself a fine pair of legs there.’

  Melusina’s head emerges from the water, also looking a bit flushed from exertion.

  ‘I see there has been a reunion, halfling.’

  I follow her gaze into Volgaris. Samuel is running his hands through his hair and pacing along the bank of the river like … like a worried dad. I get this strange gooey feeling inside as I watch him. An involuntary smile spreads across my face.

  Embarrassed, I change the subject. ‘The symbol from the glyph. Here it is again.’

  T
he mermaid queen stares at the Veritas intently and then opens her mouth as if she’s tasting the air around it. She reaches out for the book but I instinctively pull it back.

  Rena hisses.

  A gust of wind flips the pages, stopping at the mermaid picture my father showed me. Again, I feel the pain of the mermaid in the illustration as if it’s my own. I glance at it and do a double take. Last time I looked, the mermaid was drawn in a pool of green. This time, I don’t see water. I see blood.

  ‘Does this picture mean anything to you?’

  Rena gasps and then bows her head solemnly.

  Melusina’s eyes are sombre. ‘That is Aria, our fore-mother, our martyr. She sacrificed herself so that her sisters could live.’

  ‘Does she have anything to do with the Scroll of Sirena?’

  In a voice thick with emotion, Melusina says, ‘She was the catalyst for it. At the dawn of our time we were defenceless to the brutality of men – Fae and human alike, back when our sisters also swam in the waters of humans. Armies of men would hunt us – not to kill us, but to conquer us. Their only desire was to dominate, humiliate and use.’

  I swallow hard.

  ‘One day our sisters heard men approaching in boats. They fled to deeper waters but the younglings were slow. While her sisters swam away, Aria swam towards the threat, knowing that she would be butchered and violated.’

  Melusina’s face hardens. ‘You will see that she has been sliced, a common practice back then.’

  I can’t stop my hand from shaking as I turn the book around to take a closer look at the illustration. I see the horror that I’d missed before, that I’d sensed but not allowed myself to fully understand. The mermaid’s tail has been cut down the centre of her abdomen and the scales peeled down low, exposing the naked flesh of a woman’s body beneath. It’s not hard to guess why she would have been sliced in such a way. I feel Tom’s steadying hand on the small of my back.

  ‘The Goddess Venus wept for Aria and began to sing,’ Melusina says. ‘She sang for seven days. At first her voice was mournful, but as the days passed her songs turned angry and vengeful and then, finally, resolute. She would empower our kind so that males – both human and Fae – could no longer perpetrate these crimes. Venus named the last song she sang ‘Aria’ and she gifted it to our mothers.’

  ‘The mermaid song,’ I say. ‘The one written on the lost scroll.’

  ‘Yes, halfling.’

  I point to the text on the page. ‘Do you recognise it? Can you read it?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ Melusina says.

  ‘Well, which is it?’ I say, impatient.

  ‘Watch it, legs,’ Rena warns, flashing her teeth.

  ‘It is both, halfling. The text is written in the language of Sirena, the ancient tongue of our foremothers. But that language died out after the Great Silencing so I cannot tell you what it says.’

  ‘Can you recognise any of the words?’ I push. ‘What about the letters?’ If we can decipher some of the letters then I can use them as an anchor to decode the rest of it.

  ‘They are not letters so much as notated soundwaves. The nearest cousin of the language of Sirena is whale sonar.’

  Hope rushes out of me, deflating me. It’s not like there’s going to be a database of whale words kicking around the internet to use as a reference point.

  ‘It’s useless,’ I say. ‘Every clue leads to a freaking dead end.’

  Tom sniffs the air. ‘Someone’s coming.’

  Loxley transfers first. His heavy boots crash on the ground right in front of me as my wings flare. I’m struck again by how similar he and Tom are: white-blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build. But that’s where their similarity ends. There is a maliciousness to Loxley that makes my stomach churn.

  Tom and I stand back to back as eleven more men in denim and chains land around us in successive thuds, turning the grass to mud. It’s the whole of the Protectorate unicorn unit that defected to my uncle’s side. All except Wynstar.

  Melusina and Rena have dipped below the surface of the river. Loxley and his men haven’t noticed them, which is just as well. Rena was able to attack Wynstar with the element of surprise, but without their songs, the mermaids would surely be no match for a dozen unicorns.

  I glance back into Volgaris, relieved to see my father has moved back from the bank of the river. He’s sitting under a tree and seems unaware of the danger on the other side of the realm curtain. Thankfully, the defectors also seem oblivious to him. I hold the Veritas protectively against my body as I look back into Iridesca.

  ‘The book,’ Loxley snarls. ‘Hand it over.’

  ‘What would Damius want with a dusty old book?’ I say. We had the upper hand in the butterfly house because they underestimated me. Now it’s the opposite. Without my Art, any one of them could take me out and claim the Veritas.

  Without a word, Loxley cocks his head to one side, giving a signal. He’s not taking any more chances.

  All at once, the defectors trans to their unicorn forms. Hulking beasts emerge from the shimmering dust, nostrils flaring and energy sparking and sizzling from their horns.

  Tom transes too, ready for flight as the circle of unicorns closes in on us.

  ‘The book. Now,’ Loxley says.

  Melusina re-emerges from the water. Loxley, visibly startled, scowls at her. The other defectors turn their heads, revenge in their eyes. They have a score to settle with the mermaids. It makes me scared for Melusina and her sisters.

  ‘If Damius should possess our scroll he will not use the songs for righteousness. He will recruit the depraved.’ The foreboding in Melusina’s voice sends a shudder down my spine. She rises onto the tip of her tail, becoming level with the towering unicorns.

  The water around her begins to swirl, like she’s in the centre of a gentle whirlpool. ‘There will be enough unenlightened men who will respond to his call to create the biggest and most loyal army the world has ever seen.’

  Loxley notices the movement in the water and, without a word, steps forward and unleashes a blast from his horn directly at Melusina. Tom counters, blocking the blast with a flaming bolt from his horn.

  I toss the Veritas to Melusina. ‘Look after it,’ I call, as both Tom and I take to the air. Melusina expertly plucks the book from the air. I soar high and fast, spurred on by an exhilarating adrenaline rush. My Fae senses are in overdrive and I easily manoeuvre in the air to dodge the torrent of oncoming blasts. But evasion is only going to work for so long.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch Rena blow into her cupped hands. An iridescent bubble forms between her palms, growing bigger and bigger. When it’s about the size of a car tyre Rena tosses the bubble towards Melusina, who raises the Veritas above her head. The bubble wafts over the manuscript and sucks it into its glassy film with a slurping noise. With both arms, Melusina pulls the bubble under the water as she and her sisters dart away.

  Tom takes a hit to his rump, a blast skimming along the surface of his body, blood staining his white coat. He snorts and beats his wings harder. I somersault forward, my legs tucking up in a pike to dodge a fiery bolt from Loxley. Mid-turn I catch sight of movement in the water, further upstream. Small ripples fan across the river, sending small waves washing against the banks. Something is headed this way. And fast.

  ‘Fly to the river,’ I yell to Tom. ‘And get us a protective shield.’

  Tom changes direction towards the water, the defectors following him. I dive down low and level out as close to the surface of the water as possible, flying along the curve of the river. The silvery shapes of Melusina and Rena are below, keeping pace just beneath the surface.

  The defectors take the bait, swooping down after me as Tom blocks their blasts. Melusina stops abruptly. I stop too, pivot and hover in mid-air, just a metre from the surface. Tom is at my side, instantly enveloping us in the protective shield streaming from his horn. The unicorns surround us, pounding Tom’s shield, delighted by the prospect of victory.

&nb
sp; ‘Finish them,’ Loxley growls.

  I smile at him and hope I judged this right.

  In one united force, countless mermaids break the surface of the water, leaping through the air and clamping onto unicorn legs. The defectors hiss and grunt as they thrash their legs and beat their wings, trying to throw off the dangling mermaids. They manage to dislodge some of them, but just as they free themselves, more mermaids leap up to take the place of their fallen sisters. The mermaids are too strong, their teeth too sharp. They overwhelm the unicorns, who crash into the water in a twisted mess of limbs, feathers, tails and waves.

  I watch in fascinated horror as one by one, the unicorns are pulled down into the water, unleashing bolts of energy in frenzied attempts to fight off their attackers. But they’re outnumbered and disadvantaged by the water. Blood-curdling yelps and screeches echo around as they’re dragged below the surface, leaving only ripples and bubbles.

  The river is stained red.

  Through the mayhem I see Rena summon the bubble containing the Veritas from the water, directing it towards me with a wave of her hand. The bubble shoots through the air and bursts when it collides with my hand. I seize the book and tuck it safely under my arm.

  Melusina’s head pops above the surface of the water, unicorn blood dripping down her chin.

  ‘Go, halfling.’

  I shoot into the sky with Tom at my side. The surface of the water is completely smooth, a red tinge and a few floating feathers the only indications of the slaughter below.

  I beat my wings hard as Tom and I race away to safety. I think of my father by the riverside, probably waiting for me to return. I will, but not just yet. Damius is going to be enraged when he learns he’s lost his men. I can’t risk making my father his target for revenge.

  It’s not until we approach the main islands of Serenissima that we slow down. Tom, breathing heavily, spans out his wings and deftly catches the breeze. He swivels his head around and, with a glistening horn, heals his burned and bloody side.

  ‘You had me worried back there,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t even start.’

  I glide next to Tom so close that we are almost touching. With the Veritas in one hand, I wrap the other around his neck and nuzzle into the side of his ear. He feels so warm and smells so right that before I’ve even realised what I’m doing, I’ve slid onto his back.