Sigyn's Song

by Meg Trotter

  Maera launched herself forward. She caught the shark’s tail, digging her short claws into its hide and yanking her way up its body toward the mouth. The shark twisted, annoyed. Jersti sobbed something intelligible when she noticed her sister’s approach. Maera clawed at the shark’s head, shrieking until her throat felt raw. The creature thrashed, blinking protective lids over its eyes, but Maera just kept screaming, kept clawing. In a last desperate attempt, she made a fist and bashed it as hard as she could, straight back into the shark’s pointed nose.

  This, finally, made the shark open its jaw a bit, almost as if gasping in pain. Maera darted down and yanked the jaws further open. They unhinged much further than she thought they should, like something out of a nightmare. She ignored the grotesque sight and reached into its mouth. With trembling fingers she worked her sister’s arm off of the hooked teeth as quickly as she could. Once free, Maera wrapped her arms around Jersti’s middle and dragged her away from the shark, which still appeared disoriented. Jersti clutched her bloodied arm, sobbing.

  You’re okay, you’re okay, Maera chanted, though she had no idea if it was true. The amount of blood in the water suggested otherwise, but she refused to think about it. If she thought about it, she would panic again. She could not panic. Not now.

  Maera shoved Jersti in the direction of the Rift. We’re not far from home. Start swimming. We can make it ba-

  Her next word cut off as a jaw full of teeth clamped down just below Maera’s waist. The shark — the same one or a new one, Maera didn’t know — shot off with her in its jaws. Jersti’s panicked shrieks faded as the shark swam up, dragging Maera away from her sister, away from her home — away from any possibility that anyone would come rescue her.

  The shark finally slowed again. Before Maera could force her frantic mind to figure out what to do next, the creature went into a roll, trying to separate a chunk of flesh from her body. Maera started to shriek, but choked on her own blood that clouded the water. Too much blood. She had to get away.

  Maera twisted herself around, though it caused the teeth to rip further into her midsection. Pain followed that was so excruciating that the edges of her vision grayed out for several heartbeats. By pure force of desperation, she gathered her last remaining bit of strength, brought both her fists together and pounded them back into the tip of the shark’s nose.

  It loosened its grip. Maera scrambled to unhook herself from its jaws before it recovered. Clawing at the water to pull herself away from the predator, she made a low sound in her throat and extended the webbed tentacles around her head to their full length. The faint dark spots that speckled each of the eight arms pulsed a faint blue, looking for a moment like dozens of eyes. This, finally, gave the shark pause. It seemed to consider her for a moment with its dark eyes. Then it turned, and disappeared into the dark below, presumably after easier prey.

  Maera’s body sagged. The lights on her tentacles faded. Every last bit of fight dissipated, and she floated there, watching her blood stain the water dark around her. She glanced down, catching sight of the gore of her lower body and immediately looked away to block out the sight. There was no way she could make the swim back to the Rift. Her fin was destroyed. Her life was leaking out in a haze around her. She was dying. Just like her mother and sisters. Though at least they hadn’t been alone. Maera wanted to cry but couldn’t summon the energy.

  Maera floated there, motionless, as the edges of her vision started to darken. She let her eyes close, and prayed to the gods that she would go before another shark sniffed her out, tantalized by the smell of her blood. Just let it be over now.

  It could have been just a few moments, or it could have been a whole tide, but at some point a sound broke through Maera’s daze and she came back to herself enough to open her eyes again. About an arm’s length in front of her face, the sea seemed to just ... end. Shimmering lights made patterns across the water that mesmerized Maera’s drifting mind. She wasn’t sure how long she floated there, watching the dazzling image. After a while, she reached out toward the lights, entranced by the way it reflected the image of her hand back at her. Was this the boundary to the next life?

  The thought didn’t scare her as much as she knew it should. She pushed her fingertips through and felt the difference immediately. It was colder on the other side, and something else too — lighter, maybe? As if the comforting pressure of the sea was just ... gone. Her vision started to darken again, and the strength in her arm gave out. It slipped back under the boundary.

  Suddenly something plowed into Maera, sending her spinning. She shrieked in renewed pain — she didn’t realize she could find any new levels of pain — and then her head broke through the boundary. She braced herself to fully enter the afterlife, but she found herself bobbing there, halfway between the worlds.

  When her vision cleared enough to see, at first everything looked as dark as down in the Rift. However her breath caught when her eyes focused on the countless dots of light freckling the expanse above. A larger sliver of light like a shark’s tooth hung off to one side, glowing faintly. Through the middle of it all flowed a faint dusty line of light. Maera had never seen anything more beautiful. It had to be the world of the gods.

  Her gaze dropped back down to where a dark shape drifted not far away, floating on the barrier between the two worlds. It looked like some kind of whale-shaped creature, however it sported a long, curved neck that supported a bulbous head. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to notice her as it drifted by. Movement on its back drew Maera’s attention. A creature raised up. At first Maera thought the silhouette was that of a merman, however when it moved, she saw that it had no tail. Rather, a pair of something long and jointed, somewhat similar to the appendages of a lobster. A light from the back of the floating monster illuminated the face of the creature on its back, and for a moment Maera got a glimpse of its face. Whatever it was, it had the face of a merman. It was beautiful. I had to be one of the gods.

  Before Maera could consider this further, her vision blacked out completely. With one last sigh, her body slipped back through the barrier and sank down into the sea.

  When Maera found her consciousness again, she felt numb. She couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t move any part of her body at all, but was dimly aware of a hard surface at her back and something tying her down to it. Low clicking voices vibrated nearby, and it took all of Maera’s energy to focus enough to make sense of the words.

  I’ve made her comfortable, said a voice that was somehow both unfamiliar and familiar. She won’t be in pain when she goes.

  Surely there’s more you can do, said another voice. Her grandmother, Maera realized after a moment. She desperately wanted to reach out for her, to feel the touch of her hand, but her body refused to move.

  Did you see her tail before I wrapped it? snapped the first voice. It’s a miracle she’s not dead already from the blood loss.

  I know you can save her life.

  It would kinder to just let her go.

  Please, her grandmother said. She hesitated, then added quietly, I have never asked you to repay me for protecting Jormungandr, but I ask it now, if that is the only way to get you to save my granddaughter.

  The stranger let out an agitated noise. After a long pause, the voice said, Fine. But she won’t thank you for it.

  Maera faded out again before she could hear her grandmother’s reply.

  For a while, Maera’s world dimmed into fevered recollections of snatches of conversations, of dim light flitting across her vision, and of waves of pain. During one of her more lucid moments, Maera attempted to open her eyes, however her fin was wracked with a pain so intense that she would have screamed if she had been able. Instead, her consciousness abandoned her, and she sank down into nothingness again. She was there a long time.

  When her senses finally came back, they came back slowly, as if ready to bolt again at the first sign of pain. Maera took a shuddering breath through her gills and waited. There was pain, but it wa
s muted now. Bearable.

  She shifted and then opened her eyes. It took a moment for her to make sense of her surroundings. She was laying against a raised portion of rock, tied down with long strips of braided seaweed rope. As her eyes focused, she saw she was inside a pitted cavern. It was her grandmother’s, she realized when she picked up the scent of her. However, her grandmother wasn’t there now.

  Another mermaid hovered in the corner of the cavern, with her back to Maera, working on something. A fringe of dark strands drifted around her head, lit faintly by the anglerfish-like protrusion from her forehead. It was the mermaid who had been speaking with her grandmother earlier, Maera realized.

  The stranger turned and her expression shifted from tired to vaguely annoyed when she saw that Maera was blinking up at her.

  Well, the stranger clicked, Looks like you’re going to stay with us after all.

  Chapter 3

  Maera blinked blearily up at her for a moment. It was taking longer than normal for the words to settle in her brain and make sense. Before Maera formed a reply, the stranger swam closer and bent to fiddle with the seaweed bindings around Maera’s arms. They loosened, and Maera pulled her arms free, bending and straightening them to stretch the stiffness out.

  The stranger held out a closed fist to her. Here. Eat.

  Maera had intended to ask questions, but she smelled the food and realized how ravenous she was. She accepted the offered bits of fish and popped the pieces into her mouth. When that was gone, she looked up pleadingly at the stranger who handed her another portion. Maera polished that off as quickly as the first, but when she held out her hand for more, the stranger shook her head. That’s all for now. You haven’t eaten in days. You gorge yourself now, and you’ll have stomach issues along with your mangled fin, and I am NOT sticking around to fix that, no matter how much your grandma guilts me.

  Maera wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while she took another look at the stranger. Do you belong to that pod of males? she asked. And then, because she’d jogged her own memory, she added, My sister. Is Jersti ok? Did she make it back?

  The stranger grunted and popped a few pieces of food into her own mouth. After swallowing, she said, The spiky-headed one? She’s fine. Well, as fine as can be expected. Not going to have use of her arm for a while, but she’s in much better shape than you. And no, I’m not with any pod.

  Maera cocked her head at this. It was uncommon for someone not to be traveling with at least a handful of others. Being alone was pretty much unheard of — you’d be much too easy for large predators to pick off. When someone was alone, it was usually because their pod had cast them out for some breach of trust. Who are you? Maera asked.

  You can call me Luka.

  When Luka didn’t seem willing to elaborate further, Maera tried another line of questioning. She rubbed at her forehead, trying to pull up the memories of what had happened. However, it seemed like her mind had wiped away everything after the shark attack, as if afraid any memories would bring back the pain. How did I get back home?

  Dumb luck, Luka clicked. When Maera stared back, waiting, Luka sighed and added. I was leaving the area and happened to swim past where you were floating. Recognized you from your grandmother’s house and brought you back so your family could at least say their goodbyes. Nothing much worse than not knowing what happened to your family, she muttered, looking away.

  Maera started to ask more, but was distracted by something glinting that appeared in Luka’s left hand. She could have sworn the mermaid’s hands had been empty just a moment before. The object was pointed on one end, like an urchin spine, but was much thicker at the other end — as much as three fingers width it looked like.

  Luka slid the sharp end under the edge of the seaweed bindings around Maera’s tail and slit a few. She peeled back the cut weeds and tossed them over her shoulder, where they drifted upward and out of sight somewhere in the recesses of the cavern. She bent close to Maera’s tail, inspecting it.

  Maera grimaced as the other mermaid poked at her wounds. Luka retreated to the side of the cave where a series of small crevices held some odds and ends left by Maera’s grandmother. Luka reached inside and pulled out something small, then returned to Maera’s side, the pointed utensil now gone. Luka bent back over her fin and rubbed a slimy substance on it. It felt like getting stung by a whole family of sting rays. Luka ignored Maera’s hiss of pain and continued coating the fin with careless roughness.

  Well, you should have thought of what would happen when you went gallivanting out in open water, looking for boys, Luka said.

  I wasn’t looking for boys, Maera snapped through the pain. A shark grabbed my sister, and that pod of big, strong males cowered while I chased after it and punched it in the face.

  This made Luka pause in her work and look up at her with a tilted brow. You ... punched a shark.

  Yes.

  In the face.

  Twice. Maera raised her chin. She didn’t know why she felt the need to prove herself, but she got a flash of satisfaction when Luka looked impressed for a fleeting moment.

  Luka’s brow lowered back into place. Huh, she said simply, and turned back to her work.

  The sound of movement back toward the entrance of the cave interrupted any other comment Luka might have made, and her father’s face popped into view around a bend. His large frame filled the entrance as his dark eyes took a sweeping count of all her injuries. When his gaze locked onto hers, his normally stoic expression quivered. He took a shaky breath to steady himself before swimming to her side. Luka spat out a curse as she was batted away like a pesky suckerfish. The king wrapped his arms around Maera’s shoulders and pulled her into a careful hug.

  Oh, gods, he muttered into her scalp. I didn’t think I’d ever see you open your eyes again. My child. My brave girl.

  Maera leaned into the embrace before pulling back to smile up at him. It’s okay. I’m all right. And I heard Jersti is too?

  She is, though she’s been sick with worry for you. He released her and turned to Luka, who looked thoroughly annoyed now. I thank you. When I first saw Maera as you pulled her here, I thought she was lost. I owe you a great debt, Sea Witch.

  Maera blinked and pulled back further to better examine the other mermaid. She had heard whispers of tales of a sea witch all her life, but she’d long stopped believing that the stories were actually true. Somehow, Luka didn’t seem at all like she’d pictured. She’d imagined something a little scarier, with fangs and poison-tipped claws. Or at least someone a little less scrawny.

  Luka sniffed and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. There is no debt. I owed your mother one, and now I repaid it. Against my better judgement, she added.

  Something in the witch’s tone set Maera on edge. It brought a hazy memory bubbling up — a voice telling her grandmother that it would be kinder to let Maera die. She looked down at her tail. Maera couldn’t see much of it from her reclined position and the bandages, but the bits she could see didn’t look very encouraging. How bad is it? she asked.

  Bad, Luka replied without hesitation. I’ve pulled you back from the brink of death. But you’ll never swim again. There’s too much damage.

  Maera stared at Luka for several long moments. What do you mean?

  Just what I said.

  That I’m ... I’m going to have to cling to the rocks and pull myself along like ... like some kind of overgrown sea urchin? Maera felt lightheaded. There’s nothing else that can be done?

  Nothing, Luka replied.

  Maera’s chest heaved with distress, and her father pulled her close again. You don’t know that, he snapped at Luka. You don’t know. She’s a fighter. She fought off a shark, didn’t she? She’ll be fine. He lay her back against the rock so he could look at her face. You’ll be fine, he clicked gently.

  Maera ran her hands up over her face, pausing with her fists against her forehead and stared, unseeing, up at the ceiling of the cavern as she digested this information
. She tried to picture what her life was going to look like now, but couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t lose her ability to swim. She just couldn’t.

  She’d be useless to protect her family this way. No male would want her. Plus she’d be stuck in the bowls of the Rift forever. She’d never see the whales again.

  Her father bent close to her, pulling her hands away from her face. Don’t. Don’t do that. You’ll be fine. You just need more rest. He looked up at Luka again. She’ll be fine, he said again, as if repeating it enough times would make it true.

  Luka snorted, but didn’t answer. Maera took a breath to push down her swirling emotions. She didn’t want her father to worry. She’d caused him enough of that already.

  She focused on him again while pushing all thoughts of her fin out of her mind. You’re right. It will be all right. She pulled him down to her and gave him a kiss on his temple. I’m feeling tired. Her voice quivered on the last word, but she forced a small smile, hoping it didn’t look as pained as it felt. I want to rest now. Tell Jersti to come see me in a little while. And grandma too.

  Her father hesitated, but then nodded and placed a kiss on her forehead. All right. I’ll check on you later. Try to rest. All is well now. You’re safe. He turned his attention to Luka, looking as if he were about to command something. However the witch’s expression darkened in warning, and her father apparently thought better of it. He nodded, gave Maera’s shoulder one last squeeze, and then left the cavern the way he’d come.