The Undrowned Child

by Michelle Lovric

  Those someones were mermaids.

  just past midnight, June 8, 1899

  Teo had heard the words “coral lips” many times. Now, for the first time, she understood that such a description could actually be true. The lips of all the mermaids were a most exquisite moist red, and completely smooth, just like coral. The mermaids’ sea-green eyes slanted slightly upwards, fringed by luxuriant lashes. When they looked down, their eyelids resembled white cowrie shells. Their long curly hair was fluffy and tousled. Each wore a single gold earring in her left ear, like a sailor. None looked more than sixteen years old.

  Teo and Renzo cowered in the darkness of the stairs, too dazed to exchange even a whisper. Renzo gaped at the lovely creatures with a mixture of fear and admiration. Teo noted with approval that these mermaids showed no sign at all of sitting around gazing at themselves in mirrors like the mermaids in children’s stories. Instead, they were all busy with a complicated, highly technical task that was extremely familiar to Teo.

  The mermaids were printing.

  Different mermaids worked in teams to perform all the functions of the press. But this was not printing as Gutenberg once did it, nor printing like Teo had done in her classroom at school. No, this was a different manner of printing entirely.

  Some mermaids were halving oysters and flicking out the pearls. Others were grinding those pearls in mortars-and-pestles. Some were making paper, pressing down molds on the pulp of pearls crushed together with silky white seaweed. More carried the damp newborn paper to the drying racks arranged over neat little fires; then others ferried dried sheets to the printing press, which had its own little island in the middle of the submerged cavern. The printing press itself was a beautiful device, more like a giant jewel box than a machine. It was studded with carved oyster shells and pearls. The levers were the bleached bones of some vast ancient sea creature.

  And the ink? Teo heard a splashing noise and turned around to see the ink being gently tickled from squid by some mermaids wearing black-splotched aprons, using gloved hands inside a tank. After their ink was milked, the mermaids released the soft fleshy squid back into the water of the cavern. The squid swam away fast, looking over their pink shoulders rather anxiously, but unhurt.

  The printing press swooped down on the paper, and sent out large sheets that were laid on a table where yet more mermaids deftly cut them up into small squares, using scalpels made of sharpened stems of coral. Other mermaids stacked the squares into bundles and tied them with twine made of dried seaweed tendrils. The bundles were loaded onto miniature rafts.

  The mermaids sang as they worked, those same jaunty sea shanties that Teo had been hearing for days. And the parrots squawked along too, cheerfully out of tune and full of gusto. There was an atmosphere of intense urgency throughout the whole extraordinary operation.

  Renzo shook his head slightly, as if there was something in his ear. He looked at Teo for a moment, and tried to open his mouth, but his eyes were instantly drawn back to the scene in the cavern.

  Some mermaids called out instructions to each other, using a strange sort of language, which sounded as if it came from some old sailor’s locker. “Rouse out, rouse out, rouse out. Lash and carry, lash and carry, show a leg!” they shouted.

  “Show a leg!” screeched the parrots.

  This last was particularly odd, as the mermaids had not a leg between them. Their language was not always easy to understand, but it was very pleasing to listen to; a kind of rude poetry.

  “If you love me, move your dome,” one called, when she wanted her companion to bend her head in order to avoid collision with a spoke of the press.

  Teo saw those words written in a fine, free handwriting, in deep blue ink.

  One of the sheets flew off the press and onto the floor near Teo. She bent down to pick it up, and handed it to the transfixed Renzo without a word. It looked familiar. And it smelt of fish! Angry warnings filled the page. Venetians, watch that mayor of yours. Something’s come over him like a pig falling from the sky. Remember the Butcher Biasio and the skin of Marcantonio Bragadin!

  Suddenly everything became remarkably clear. The mermaids were Signor Rioba!

  All this while the mermaids had shown no sign of having noticed their visitors. Renzo and Teo stood in the shadows of the great chamber, their hearts thumping like the press itself, not knowing whether they would be welcome visitors or if they had stumbled in on a secret that could cost them their lives.

  They did not need to wonder long. Teo’s clumsiness betrayed them. Signor Rioba’s sheet slipped from her shaking hand and sailed out of their hiding place, coming to rest on the head of a mermaid who was sweeping small torn pieces of paper into a vast clamshell. She turned and pointed to the children, her finger quivering in the air like an arrow. A little cry escaped from her lips, but nothing more.

  One by one, the mermaids noticed the intruders, and each stopped short in her task. In seconds, the printing press had ground to a halt, and hundreds of mermaids were erect, still and silent, each clutching the tools of her particular trade, and staring at Teo and Renzo.

  “Human children!” gasped one of the mermaids. “Blood for breakfast!”

  The parrots echoed happily, “Blood for breakfast, blood for breakfast, blood for—”

  “Avast heaving, there!” shouted the mermaid’s colleague, who was still too busy counting sheets of paper to look up. This seemed to mean, “Stop teasing me!”

  A third mermaid, who had also caught sight of the children, insisted, “My gib was atwitch, I might of knowed it. Human childer smell most peculiar, I do declare freely.”

  The other mermaids immediately chipped in to declare that their gibs—noses, it seemed—had also detected something odd. “But I dint like to air it, ye know.”

  “And now dey have crippen up upon us, bless my owld soul!”

  Renzo and Teo felt exceedingly uncomfortable. So many pairs of wide green eyes fixed on them, with so much commentary and without a great deal of approval.

  But then the atmosphere changed dramatically, and much for the better.

  “You have come, Children,” said a low, graceful voice. “At Last.”

  Teo recognized the owner of that voice at once—for she had the same face as the beautiful, sad girl on the cover of The Key to the Secret City.

  “It’s you!” she gasped.

  “Yes indeed. You are most welcome, Teodora & Lorenzo,” purred the mermaid, who sat on a half-submerged throne. They had not noticed her before because she had been quite still while the other mermaids were a blur of activity. Her azure tail was mostly underwater, its shimmering scales visible in the candlelight.

  There was a hubbub among the other mermaids. Amidst their chattering, Teo thought someone exclaimed, “Avast! ’Tis Teodora! ’Tis the Undrowned Child!”

  The Undrowned Child? Where had Teo heard that before?

  There was a general splashing as one mermaid rushed forward to lay her hands on Teo’s feet, shouting, “Gangway! Let me touch her for luck!”

  “Let me! I saw her first!” clamored another. “Who’d a thunk the little maid would look so natural?”

  “D’ye think she could do the Hopscotch for us? D’ye have a notion of how the Hopscotch works, Undrowned Child?”

  Renzo took a step backwards as the mermaids stroked and groomed as much of Teo as they could get their hands on.

  “Now, Pretty Ladies!” reproved the mermaid on the throne. She calmed them with words that seemed familiar, but in unusual combinations. The lettering Teo saw when this mermaid spoke was elegant and quaintly old-fashioned, using the symbol “&” for “and” in the way of old books she had seen in the library.

  The mermaid smiled at Teo. “I am Lussa. This”—she gestured at the gilded cavern—“is my Queendom. And these Pretty Ladies”—she pointed to the assembled mermaids—“are my Subjects.”

  Teo noticed that only Lussa among the mermaids spoke with capital letters at the beginnings of her words. It must
be a royal prerogative, she guessed.

  Lussa added sympathetically, “My Speech is Strange to You? My Race learnt to speak in Humantongue by eavesdropping upon Sailors who came to these Waters from the Indies & Beyond. I fear this Primitive Education has left its Mark: We oftimes speak as Rough as Guts. Your Shore Parlance is indubitably Difficult for Us too. About the Hopscotch, ’Tis a Mythical Pursuit among Us. The Ladies are a little Infatuated with the Notion of It, being a Game We ourselves shall never be able to play.” Lussa pointed to her tail.

  The mermaid motioned for the children to approach her along the walkway that ran along the edge of the cavern’s pool. A pair of carved chairs was placed behind them by two younger mermaids wearing maids’ caps and aprons on the top halves of their bodies.

  Their mistress bestowed a benevolent look on the stupefied children. “Teodora, I see You have sustained an Injury. We cannot have our Lost Daughter under-the-Weather!”

  “Lost Daughter?” thought Teo vaguely. “That definitely reminds me of …”

  Lussa pulled on a long velvet cord hanging from the roof of the cavern, her coral nails flashing like rubies. A red-haired mermaid in a butler’s outfit bustled into view. Lussa whispered something in her ear, adding, “Roundly, Chissa!” A few moments later, the butler-mermaid reappeared with a roll of soft dried seaweed and an ointment that smelt strongly of … curry as she squeezed it out of a little leather bag.

  “Fermented Chili Jelly, that purifies the Blood & Heals,” explained Lussa in a soothing voice. “Those Sailors who taught us Humantongue also brought Us a Taste for piquant Eastern Spices. We use Them in all our Food & Medicines.”

  Chissa rubbed a wobbling fingerful gently into the cut on Teo’s leg and then wrapped the seaweed bandage around it, fastening it with a little spike of coral. Teo’s knee felt as if a cosy fire had been lit inside it. The pain vanished.

  “Why are you printing?”

  Of all the questions that Teo needed to ask, this seemed one of the least important. But it was the first one that made its way out of her mouth. Renzo remained in a state of silenced shock.

  “You are a Child with both Oars in the Water,” observed Lussa approvingly. It seemed that Teo had asked the right question after all.

  “We have recourse to the Seldom Seen Press & Signor Rioba when Venice is in Danger.”

  “Why ‘Seldom Seen’?”

  “We are named So because the Press & its Servants are seldom seen by Humanfolk.”

  As Lussa spoke, the other mermaids had gradually drawn closer. Hundreds of slanted sea-green eyes were fixed upon Teo and Renzo.

  “Pray forgive the Staring. Some of my Younger Sisters have never seen a Human before, Humanfolk not being in general much Use to Us in the Sore Matter of protecting this City.”

  “Not much use?” asked Teo.

  “No more Use than a Feather Anchor. Only rarely do We summon Humanfolk to help Us. But this is One of those Dread Times.”

  Teo wondered if Lussa would now say “my Hearties.” She did not. “For many Days I have sought to summon You here. That was our Singing that You heard upon the Streets, Teodora. Those Mermaids of Wax & Carrot & Glass & Tin—They too were My Messengers. In the End I drew You to Me by the Book. I must confess that ’Twas I who caused the Volume to fall upon your Poor Head in the Shop of Books, Teodora. ’Twas also I who lured You to the Shelves with the Many-Scented Stories.”

  “Which included Mermaids I Have Known by Professor Marìn,” recalled Teo. “Did the bookseller know something about this, then? He kept staring at me, as if he knew me, or recognized me from somewhere.”

  “He is no Stranger to the Saving of Venice, our Friend the Good Bookseller”—there was a warm affection in Lussa’s voice—“otherwise known as Professor Marìn.”

  “So he actually wrote the book about mermaids?” Teo asked, remembering the mortar-and-pestle on the shop counter instead of a till. “Do you know …?”

  “About the Ransacked Shop? The Talk of Murder? Yar, Indeed,” Lussa said comfortably, “but Teodora, You shall soon learn that Everything in Venice is not always what It seems. Nor is Everyone always quite Who They say.”

  Amid all her bewilderment, a new feeling was now creeping into Teo’s heart, a strangely pleasant one. There was no denying it, she felt enormously flattered that she’d been sought out by the mermaids—she, Teo, who was always picked last for every game at school, who was largely ignored by everyone except her parents and the school librarian. And treated as an inferior being by Renzo.

  Surely Renzo must be just a little impressed that the mermaids had picked Teo too?

  Renzo cleared his throat sulkily. All this attention to Teo was clearly making him feel somewhat surplus to requirements. Lussa threw him an understanding look, saying, “The Key to the Secret City had a Double Purpose. You see, We had our Eye upon Young Lorenzo as well, and knew that such a Book would serve as Irresistible Bait to reel Him in.”

  “What mission?” demanded Renzo, visibly more pleased.

  Lussa immediately looked serious again, almost grown-up. “I am most Sorry to tell you, Children, that there is a Creature …”

  Teo felt sticky and faint. Lussa was still talking in serious tones: “… Yar, our City is threatened by a Creature that lurks Beneath, a Creature thousands of Years older than the Lagoon itself. ’Tis this Creature who presently heats the Waters …”

  “Causing the old wells to blow up into geysers?” quavered Teo.

  “And sending the High Water into the wrong places?” Renzo’s doubtful face showed that he too was struggling to believe what he was hearing.

  But now, with the living book, the mermaids in front of them, the garden full of wretched ghosts upstairs, the strange happenings in Venice … but above all, seeing the distress on Lussa’s beautiful face—Teo felt a cold certainty spreading through her that anything was possible at this moment; particularly terrible things.

  “How big is the … Creature?” asked Teo self-consciously.

  “ ’Tis hard to convey how Big the Creature is. Let us say that ’Tis at the same time Tinier than Anything You could see with your Naked Eyes, but also Vaster than Venice Herself. You could try to envision It as a Cancerous Tumor that spreads its Web of Unwholesomeness around and under the City.” Lussa continued, “It has no Substance that a Body can really lay a Finger upon. ’Tis more like a Feeling than a Living Being. Or a Group of miniature Un-Creatures that can be organized together—for the Good or the Bad. In Itself, ’Tis however Meek & Timid as a Four-legger.”

  “A four-legger?” asked Teo.

  Chissa growled in a warning tone, “A coney, underground mutton … you know.”

  “I’m sorry.…” Teo was still lost.

  Renzo interrupted in a low voice, “She means ‘rabbit’—sailors are supposed never to utter that word aloud. It brings bad luck.”

  One of the mermaids shouted at him, “Belay that loose talk, stripling!!!”

  Another chimed in, “Keep yer noggin’ mouf shut, ye great dafty!”

  “Avast!—Hold! Enough!” Lussa held up her hand. “The Creature,” she reminded the children, “is the Subject in our Net at this Moment. It has manifested. Now even Humanfolk can see its Parts arranged in Tentacles above the Water.”

  Renzo and Teo looked at each other with dawning understanding.

  “Yar,” confirmed Lussa. “The Striped Poles in the Grand Canal. The Creature has been Asleep for Centuries. The Tentacles solidified in the Dormant State to the Extent that They seemed like Trunks of Wood. Humanfolk even started using Them to moor their little Boats, Poor Ignorant Ones. Of course, Humanfolk are notoriously Bad at noticing Things.”

  “I’ve seen the poles move!” exclaimed Teo and Renzo in the same voice.

  “You never thought to mention that?” Teo muttered to Renzo.

  He looked away, embarrassed.

  Lussa continued, “Soon They shall do a great deal More than move. We Mermaids have been able to keep the Creature aslum
bering for ten Centuries with our Singing, but now ’Tis roused once more.”

  “Why has it woken up now?”

  “There are two Reasons. One is Human-Made. Too many Humans and too much Boating Activity made the Lagoon Warmer & Dirtier than Nature intended. When the Water below the City was Fresh & Cool, the Creature, who is cold-blooded, stayed safely in a State of Suspended Animation, all its Miniature Parts separated. But now the Water grows ever Hotter & Filthier, and so the Creature stirs. It gains in Strength & commences to act in a Unified Way. ’Tis not fully awake yet, thank the Deep; else our Beautiful City would already be just a Memory.”

  Renzo, pale as snow, asked, “What is the second reason?”

  Lussa answered in a somber voice, “Bajamonte Tiepolo.” Silence fell on all the mermaids in the cavern. The parrots shuffled uneasily in their cages. To Teo this name meant nothing. Even so, her chest clenched and her hands balled up into fists.

  Renzo whispered, “Bajamonte Tiepolo, Il Traditore?”

  Lussa repeated, “Bajamonte Tiepolo, the Traitor.”

  Chissa nodded grimly. “Yar, Bajamonte Tiepolo, the Orphan-Maker.”

  Something stuck in Teo’s throat. She choked. Renzo groaned, “Oh my God, it’s not possible!”

  one o’clock in the morning, June 8, 1899

  Lussa nodded sadly. “Yes, Bajamonte Tiepolo, who tried to destroy the Republic of Venice and kill the Doge.”

  Renzo protested, “But that was hundreds of years ago, in 1310. The Doge was a Gradenigo. It must have been Pietro, yes, Pietro Gradenigo.”

  “Bag o’ nuts!” cried a mermaid admiringly. “Suave as a rat with a gold tooth!”

  Another chimed: “Weren’t behind the door when the brains was give out, ’im!”

  Lussa smiled. “You do not disappoint Us, Lorenzo, with your relentless Knowledge of Venetian History. Now kindly explain Il Traditore to Teodora. I see from her Face that she hurts to know of Him.”

  Renzo cleared his throat in the way that Teo had come to learn meant that a long historical lecture was in the offing. She sighed.