by Emily Shore
“I’ll apply your prosthetic fins shortly, but we’ll do those closer to the tank. You’ll be backstage, of course, so no one will see you.”
“Do you know what he’s planning?”
“Why would I?” Lindy straightens before arranging small portions of my hair into braids. “I’m just a preparer. I prepare you, not the exhibits. What a silly question. Wasn’t that a silly question?” She laughs at her fingers.
“Can I see the tail prosthetic?”
Sighing, Lindy flicks a curl of my hair. “No.”
“No?”
“No.”
She doesn’t provide a reason, and I shrug. A little too spontaneous about her work at times or maybe it’s because she’s busy and doesn’t want the additional delay. I don’t ask.
Once she’s finished, Luc comes to escort us both.
He surveys the costume in full, and I try not to squirm as he does. I should be used to this by now, but the thought of Luc still using his artist’s eyes on me are unsettling. Given what happened the other day, I wish my father would use someone else to bring the exhibits to life.
“Now, that’s a siren if I ever saw one.” Neil’s voice interjecting immediately calms me down.
My half-brother kisses both of my cheeks, and Lindy smacks him. “What was that for?”
“You got my glitter all over your mouth now,” Lindy points out. “No interfering with my makeup.”
“You’re just jealous cause I kissed her and not you.” Neil winks.
“Of all the—” Lindy fumes as Neil leans over to goad her on. “Why I oughta—”
They continue their argumentative banter while I turn around to face Luc. “What’s going to happen? What are you and my father planning?”
His hand advances toward my chin, but I recoil. Exhaling, he follows through with his habitual pattern and touches my shoulder instead. He pauses, taken back at the change. Guess I forgot all about the procedure. No more feather. It’s a Yang symbol now. Nothing about the implant has changed, just the digital tattoo.
“You know I can’t,” he tells me, moving on from the symbol. “All I can do is offer you this—be the Serenity I’ve always seen.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I hate it when he talks like that.
Neil raises his voice behind me, and I blow an annoyed breath because he and Lindy are still egging each other on. For once, my brother has met his match.
Luc dips his head to mine so he can murmur close to my ear. “Remember the night you told me about swimming in the ocean?”
I narrow my brows. My father wouldn’t really—would he?
“Luc—”
“Look what you made me do!” Lindy half-screams. “We’re late. Come on, Serenity. Ignore that pathetic waste of space.”
“She calls me pathetic, yet she talks to her hands,” Neil retorts.
“Shh…” Lindy coos to her fingers. “He’s just not enlightened yet. He’ll have to come back as multiple life forms before that ever happens.”
As she ushers me out the door, I point a finger back to Neil, inviting him in a silent way to ‘shut it’.
The three of us progress down a back hallway toward the exhibit, but instead of opening the door to the main room, Luc uses his barcode to gain access to a back stairwell. I wince just a little. What I do know about the murder was where the body was found. With both Luc and Neil behind us, I have little to worry about. Doing my best not to picture anything, I follow Lindy up the stairs, wondering if I’m leaving a glittery breadcrumb trail behind.
At the top of the stairwell are two doors side by side. Lindy takes the first one, which leads us to a small preparation area before the enormous tank. Considering the tank alone must have the surface area of a football field, I know the audience chairs must occupy a completely new level. This is a special exhibit detached from the main mermaid one.
A curtain divides the backstage area, but I can still hear the murmurs of an expectant audience. Lindy sets to work on applying my waterproof prosthetic tail while Luc and Neil observe. Her accomplished hands work quickly as she seals the edges of the tail around my shins where it greets the rest of the scales. Much different than what I expected—the tail is Lindy’s shining spectacle. No wonder she didn’t want me to see it first. Thin and transparent as a spiderweb, it’s comprised of a network of parts all connected to the base of my legs, but the supple ends of the tail curl, reminding me of fine tendrils of hair. They move more like fabric.
“Now, that is really something,” Neil admits before kneeling before Lindy. “My deepest apologies, my lady. I bow to your magisterial greatness!” The flirt takes her arm, then begins kissing the length of it.
Lindy eats it up. “It’s about time someone appreciated my work.”
I stare at the tail—or rather, the work of art—but there is no time. From some booming speaker around us, I can hear my father’s voice welcoming the guests. The audience’s applause roars in my ears.
“Here.” Luc nudges a miniature speaker into my ear. “It’s waterproof, and it will help.”
Help with what?
“It’s time.”
I can’t possibly stand. The tail restrains my feet far more than I care, but everything will be fine once I get into the water. Right now, I’m just trying not to shake and doing a poor job of it. I close my eyes for a moment, but that was a mistake. In the very next instant, Luc slides his arms around me and plucks my body up from the chair, entire ensemble included. The prosthetics must be heavy, but he handles me anyway. His arms remind me of the very first morning he’d held me—after he’d locked me above the client rooms.
“Shh.” Luc tilts his head to mine as he tries to calm my quivering self.
He approaches one side of the tank where a small set of steps descends into the water. Kicking off his shoes, Luc approaches them with me still in his arms.
All the lights go dark. The audience claps again.
I bite my tongue. This never gets any easier.
Then, he kneels and lowers me into the water, voice murmuring in my ear, “Be Serenity.”
Not the Swan, not a mermaid. Just Serenity.
Luc kisses me. In his twisted mind, maybe he thinks it will settle me, but his mouth printing against mine only spreads heat into my cheeks, yet causes me to shiver even more than the frigid saltwater. It stirs my lightning. The curtain still hasn’t receded. I dive beneath the surface just as lyrical notes begin to play. From beneath the water, I still hear them from the speaker. Upon diving, the breathing implant in my nose triggers, harnessing its power. I don’t have to hold my breath. It blocks any water and gives me oxygen, affording me an infinite supply of bubbles.
My suspicions are confirmed. I am in danger of loving this. While I buck against the notion, I know countless other girls only pretend to adore their time in the exhibits. Manipulation is key. Or belief, blind or otherwise.
I shouldn’t waste the opportunity.
As soon as I begin to swim, the curtain lifts and spotlights encompass my form to unveil me. To get used to the sensation of my trapped legs and feet, I start swimming in small curls and circles, contorting my body this way and that. Spiraling my body backward is a thrill, somehow made simpler by the prosthetic tail that sweeps the water back and twirls to mimic my body’s movements.
Then, I catch the shape out of the corner of my eye. A gray shadow. Just for a moment, but I pause from swimming and just float while my eyes narrow, focusing on the water paces ahead of me. A sense of foreboding creeps below my skin, and the haunting melody doesn’t work to combat it. I see the shadow again, this time a little closer, close enough for me to make out its outline. Every drop of lightning freezes inside of me.
Oh yes, my father so would.
Be Serenity.
Closing my eyes, I inject my mind deep into the memory from my childhood. Of waves and salt and black water. Of a silver shape in that water.
What does this one smell? My fear? Does he notice the in
crease of my exhaled bubbles? Or can he hear my throat constrict?
I refuse to let my inner psyche be manipulated by a ridiculous terror.
Instead of recoiling in fear, I dare my senses, respect the shift of power, and swim toward the shark instead of away from it. Even with my mermaid-encrusted body, this majestic creature shames me. In fact, it pays little heed to another presence in the water. Respect fuses in my veins, bonding with my lightning to grant me the courage to pursue the water giant. Closer now, I reach out one hand and latch onto the top of its dorsal fin. Minding me no more than a tadpole, the shark continues swimming. For just a few seconds, he hauls me along. I get a sense of the powerhouse stored within its body. He’s the one bestowing his beauty on me—not the other way around. He’s not mindless or bloodthirsty.
Chilled to the bone, I withdraw my hand, let it glide along the sleek skin of his back before touching the tip of his tail as it flips back and forth. Then, I let go. The shark twists his body to the side, changing direction. Mirroring his movements from the side and careful not to invade his space, I swim along with him. I dance with him. The rows of countless teeth sharper than new arrow heads don’t faze me at all. Not once does the shark open his jaws.
Intrigue, suspicion, and distrust breeds in the water between us. Sometimes, he avoids me. Other times, he approaches from the side, affording me the chance to sweep my fingers against his skin. Floating down deeper, I keep my movements subtle to honor his territory, working the lines of my body in simple curvatures and twists but no arcing gestures or backward flips. The shark rolls through the water nearby to investigate. My arms pirouette, and I tip my head back to him, the ends of my hair coiling up and tracing the side of his body. He circles and approaches, but he’s not threatening. As the predator moves closer, I reach for him. The wide area of his nose bends, cupping my palm… but for just a moment because he doesn’t linger.
Did a shark seriously just kiss my hand?
Hearing the familiar voice of my father on the speaker trespass on the very last notes of the song, I start to make my way up to the surface, pulsing through the water. Before I can reach the open air, a mechanical claw injects into the water and locks around my waist, plucking me from the tank like a piece of seaweed. The shock is so great I cough up water on my glide through the air right before the claw sets me down on a small, erected stage right before the tank where my father already stands.
Sliding one arm around my waist and raising a hand to the standing ovation of the crowd, he announces my mermaid name—Undine. They aren’t specifically mermaids but more a class of water elementals that include everything from naiads to mermaids. I find it ironic since undines lack souls, unlike humans. Whatever the case, the applause increases, and my father turns to me and kisses my forehead.
“Well done.”
Luc is nowhere to be seen after the end of my exhibit. Guests disperse. I stand on the podium with my father until all have left, then Lindy arrives to remove my tail. I raise one brow when I notice Neil following her. When he produces a holographic device no bigger than a pinky nail, I realize he’s getting some candid, behind-the-scenes footage. Perhaps to appease a curious audience who want to see what Undine is like in her off hours.
After Lindy frees my feet, I rise but discover how unsteady I am. Force catches hold of my arm to prevent me from stumbling.
“Steady, Serenity,” he coos.
I suppose now is as good a time to ask as any. “I want to see the other exhibits again.”
I’m not quite ready to leave the oceanic world yet.
“Check it out,” Neil interjects, pointing to my sprite light views, which are going up by the thousands, comments spiraling. “You’re a sensation! They’re nicknaming you the Shark Whisperer.”
Force grins, appreciative. “The mermaid exhibit room will be swamped with visitors, but I will take you to the back of the tanks if you wish to observe. You won’t be able to see the girls as clearly, however.”
Suits me fine. I’m not there to look at the girls. If I could, I’d spend all day in the water with the breathing implant even if it does prevent me from practicing my own ability to hold my air longer. Fortunately, it doesn’t take too much time to remove it, but Lindy becomes frustrated at the technical assistant who must do so before she can strip the rest of the prosthetics from my skin.
Neil continues to get footage, but as Lindy’s fingers work to peel away the scales near my thighs, I order him to get out.
“What? You know I’ve seen—”
Lindy turns on him, her blue eyes sharp as sea hooks, puckering up her plump, sugarplum nose. “Get out before I knock your block off, pretty boy!”
When Neil hesitates, Lindy goes so far as to push him toward the door.
“No farewell kiss?” he asks right before she shoves him out.
“I’d rather kiss the shark!”
She slams the door in his face, then shakes out herself. Her plump chest heaves up and down from the motion, and one side of her billowy blouse falls below her shoulder. Rolling it back up, she approaches me once more.
“Can you believe that twit?”
I stare down at her, noting the way her cheeks blush like honey bees have lodged there, stinging her repeatedly, willing blood to the surface. She blows aside strands of her short hair before smacking them away from her face and trying to concentrate on my legs. Quite attractive in her own way, Lindy has more than just her looks going for her. Sharp wit enough to take on my half-brother, a sweet sort of gumption, an eye for detail, and a face lovelier than a cherub. Make that a flushed cherub.
“You like him.”
“What?” She pauses to glance up at me.
“My brother. You like him!”
She deadpans. “You know I could just rip off these scales.”
Taking one corner of a scale right above my left thigh near my center, she tilts her head and waits for me to say something else. I know how much it would hurt. Better not to test her because I’d wager she’d follow through.
“I’ll shut up.”
“Good.”
Lindy works her way up, easing her remover-coated brush under each scaly flap until I’m finally left with just my skin, which is still covered in glitter.
When she reaches for a washcloth, I hold up a hand. “Don’t worry about the glitter. I’m sure Queran will remove it.”
I change into a dress I discovered in my closet. Well, more like a closet within a closet for how large it is.
Lindy humphs a little, “Queran. I should have known he was your secret preparer.”
“Jealous or something?” I wonder while slipping the dress on over my bra.
“He’s a living legend in the Temple.” She begins putting away her equipment. “Is it true he never talks?”
“Oh, he talks.” Just in a different way.
I decide not to share his origami method of communication; it seems too intimate.
“So, about my brother…” I change the subject.
Lindy rolls her eyes. “Hey, I can still whack you with my brush,” she threatens.
“What? You don’t think he’s a looker? You two actually have a lot in common.”
“Yeah… like a leopard seal has a lot in common with a penguin.”
I muse for a moment. “Are you the leopard seal?”
Lindy glares. “I’ve worked in the Temple long enough to have learned quite a few things. I know Neil is Nile Bodelo. He’s spent his entire career globe-trotting and taking pictures of the most beautiful girls the world has ever seen. And I just prepare the girls so other eyes like his can feast on them. You wanna know what they call girls like us here in the Temple? Shadow girls. We’re not meant to be seen or heard. Plain and simple.”
“That’s pretty cynical.”
She shrugs. “It’s the truth.”
“Lindy.” Approaching her with a smile, I cup her shoulder. “Trust me when I tell you this—my brother definitely sees you.”
My father does
n’t have much respect for my privacy when we reach the back areas of the mermaid exhibit tanks. All I want to do is be alone with the water for a few minutes. After my swim, I feel light enough a cotton blossom could carry me away. This moment, this aftermath, is not his to share with me.
“Lovely dress. Pleased you have taken to your new wardrobe.”
I glance down at the lady number, off-the-shoulder sleeves with silver filigree decorating it everywhere. In some ways, there is more filigree than fabric, which makes it heavier.
“More training tonight?” I spit out the words.
“Of a sort.”
He doesn’t provide me with any more information, leaving me suspicious with a gnawing sense of foreboding. What else could he have in mind for Bliss and me?
“She hasn’t spoken to me all week, you know.”
“It was expected. After all, you don’t mix well.”
“Yes, you saw to that.”
“Not at all, my daughter.”
Force watches me when I stop in front of a tank in the center of the exhibit. He’s ruining this for me, but I try to focus on the way the exhibit lights capture the water like individual glowing smiles nestling inside the liquid ripples. For a few moments, I close my eyes and press my cheek against the glass to enjoy the silence before he interrupts it again. I wait, but my father says nothing. Curious, I open my eyes but see him at the end of the hall, exiting the exhibit room to give me some time alone.
Well, at least there’s that.
I wander along the different tanks, discovering the back area is smaller than the front, half segregated from the opening of the main room and the hallway. Just as I approach the center tank again, I notice something white floating inside the tunnel holed into the underwater rock formations. Nearing the tank, I narrow my eyes to make out the white shape, hoping, praying, wishing it’s not what I suspect. Corpse skin white as a December sky. I stare at her eyes, which remind me of peering past a fish’s transparent scales into its exoskeleton. Through the space of the giant tank, I can hear the faded shouting protests and a scream or two from the crowd at the presence of a dead body in the tank. Some, no doubt, are running for the exits.
