by Amy Bearce
“I have seen the water wraiths,” Phoebe said, projecting her voice to carry to the back of the cave. “Twice I have escaped them. I’m not sure how, but I do seem to be able to fight them. Tristan has helped me harness this power today, and I have better control now. I believe you could once again use magic like the ancient merfolk. As adults, you’ve all been to the original city. Do you recognize how much power they had? I want to help you use this power as they did. You could learn to protect yourself before it’s too late.”
“How do we know that we can learn this magic?” Elder Maher asked.
“I can show you the power you could have if you would attempt it.”
She needed a volunteer. She glanced at Tristan, but no, she was better off without any potential distractions. “Mina, can you come here and hold my hand?”
Her friend swam over without hesitation and placed her small, slim hand in Phoebe’s. How many times had they held hands as they swam? Too many to count. Now Phoebe was relying on that close connection to prove a point.
She closed her eyes and focused on Mina, sensing her presence, warm and bubbly.
“Focus on our friendship,” Phoebe murmured to her friend, hoping this would work. “Think on how connected we’ve been over the years. Think of us being united as one.” Well-trained as a seawee, Mina knew what to do and nodded.
Phoebe remembered the many times she and Mina laughed together, joked together. Remembered how Mina offered such comfort when Phoebe sobbed from nightmares of Bentwood’s place. Focusing on their friendship, Phoebe imagined the blue light inside spreading to Mina, filling her, bursting forth from her. A glow simmered bright against Phoebe’s closed eyelids, and when she opened them, her jaw dropped.
Mina was iridescent, as bright as Tristan had been after the kiss, but her light was blue, like the light Phoebe had called in her times of distress.
Laughing, Mina looked down at her skin. “I feel amazing!” she said. “So powerful! Is this how it feels for you, Phoebe?”
The merfolk looked at them like sunflowers yearning for the sun. They wanted that magic.
“Why would you hesitate, if you could regain what you’ve lost?” Phoebe demanded. Tiredness dragged at her, and she could no longer keep up the light.
The blue light faded from Mina, and she let out a sigh.
Phoebe spread her hands wide in appeal. “Imagine. Imagine every one of you learning how to access that kind of power. I’ll teach you. I’ll do everything I can to empower you. Come help me fight the wraiths, before Baleros grows strong enough to come after you. Watch how I use the magic as a weapon and learn to use it yourself.”
Tristan looked at her as if he had never seen her before. “Phoebe―” he began.
She cut him off, brutally aware of how alone she was at the moment. No one could make her point for her. She had to prove she was worthy of being followed. “I was able to frighten off a flight of sea dragons. I think if you all learn to do what I can do, we can fight water wraiths, and yes, even Baleros. Together!”
“And what if this ‘evil presence,’ as you say, is awake and ready to kill us all before we master this supposed skill?” said Elder Seamus. “Then what? Are you so afraid to fight the beast, little girl? You are eager for us to, but won’t go yourself.”
“She can fight, and she will,” Tristan said, swimming forward. “But this danger requires all of us. Our numbers cannot keep shrinking as they have if we are to survive. And if this creature means to take the last of us as his meal, I say we give him a belly ache on the way down.”
“That’s not our way!” shouted a mermaid from the back.
“And has your way been working? Really?” Phoebe challenged.
No children were permitted at the meeting, but when she thought of all of those little seawees left to get picked off one by one, rage broke over her. “You’re giving up. That’s not peace! That’s defeat!”
The pearl around her neck flashed with silver light.
“It’s the pearl!” someone from the crowd cried. “Whoever has the pearl will have the power to fight! Give the pearl to an elder! See if they can control the magic!”
Phoebe startled. Was that true? She didn’t have the pearl the first time the blue light came, but maybe… maybe she wasn’t the cause of the light the first time. Who knew? Perhaps she was only a mermaid because the pearl channeled the temple’s magic. She couldn’t guess what other powers it contained. She wrapped her hand around the precious stone without conscious thought.
Tristan replied, “Phoebe has long had other powers, without the pearl. We don’t even know where it came from.”
Seamus shook his fist and darted back and forth furiously, sending small currents that brushed against Phoebe’s skin. “And doesn’t that concern anyone other than me? Who would violate our oath to never give that power to a human? A dirt walker?”
Quite a few gazes rested on Tristan, but Phoebe knew it hadn’t been him. His shock had been too great. The other elders sat like statues, except Odessa. Her tail fin flicked back and forth, back and forth, her eyes never leaving Phoebe’s face.
Phoebe couldn’t stand it. “Look. I might not know how I did it, and I don’t know who gave me the pearl, but I’m the one who fought off a water wraith and those sea dragons. I’m sorry if that bothers you. But it could help save your people. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means you can use a flashy light to scare off a few beasts of the deep, but you know nothing of survival for the long haul,” Seamus said. “We survive by not stirring the waters. We hide. We do. Not. Fight.”
A surge of frustration made Phoebe clench her teeth. For such a pacifist, the old merman was making her plenty ready to fight. But the merfolk were a slow-moving, peaceful people, despite this one merman’s rage. Arguments made them uncomfortable. There was no way to win here with anger.
Her nails cut into her palms, but she took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and hummed a bar from her favorite peaceful tune. It balanced her. Anger wasn’t her usual response anyway. From living with Sierra, Phoebe had learned that anger was usually a mask covering hurt or fear. Elder Seamus was just afraid.
She opened her eyes and gazed at him with compassion. “It’s okay. I understand―”
“You can never understand! You will never be one of us. You will never, ever be a real mermaid.” He reached out his gnarled hand. With a snap of his wrist, he yanked the pearl from her neck, breaking the necklace.
A flash of blue light blinded her. Power rushed through her like a riptide, a swirling whirlpool of magic, filling and filling her until she was sure she would burst. Her arms opened wide as if embracing the entire sea. Blue light flared all around her. The moment unfurled like a thousand days passing, the thunder of ocean surf echoing in her ears, the taste of salt strong in her mouth. Then it was over.
She shook her head. What was that?
When she was able to see again, Elder Seamus hovered in front of her, eyes dark with shock. She looked down, expecting to see human legs, and hopefully not naked human legs. Instead, the now-familiar sight of her blue tail fin greeted her. She reached to her neck, where smooth gills still remained. But her skin was the most shocking of all.
Dark tattoos of merfolk silhouettes wove along her arms and shoulders, made starkly visible by a new blue moonglow radiating from her skin. The light’s blue cast set her apart from all the others around her. Even as a mermaid, she was different than the rest.
Inside her, something intangible had changed, too. A strange pressure grew in her mind, one that reminded her of the power of the temple. Magic was at work, and its steady force coursed through her. A chill shuddered down her spine.
She turned to face Tristan, whose mouth hung open once again. She whispered, “What happened to my skin? Where did these tattoos… Why am I still a mermaid?”
A triumphant laugh came from Odessa. “Because you accepted the gift of the sea, child! Now it’s claimed you. Did we not all s
ee the blue light surrounding her? Owning her? Filling her? Do you not see her tattoos, given by the magic of the ocean just as ours are during our initiation into adulthood? They symbolize our choice to serve as caretakers of the sea, so we must assume the ocean has vouched for her. And look at the tattoo pattern chosen for her! Ladies and gentlemers, meet your newest mermaid. Your champion. She isn’t going anywhere.”
“What gift? What are you talking about?” cried Phoebe.
“The magic of the ocean is a powerful thing, young girl. I warned you. And you obviously have an ability to channel it. You used it to save a life, did you not? In return, the ocean took yours as payment, your human one, at any rate. Magic is an honest but harsh mistress. The pearl might have allowed you to reach the depths of the ocean, but it was your own magic and your willingness to offer yourself for Tristan’s life that allowed your transformation. Not that pearl.”
Tristan looked at Phoebe with horror-filled eyes. “I would never ask you for such a fate,” he said. “We’re in danger here, and you have a life above these waters.”
Phoebe touched the spot where the pearl had rested for days. It wasn’t the pearl. This magic is mine. She felt dizzy.
“Is this… real? Or is it a dream?” She reached out a hand to steady herself, and Tristan placed his hand in hers without hesitation. His touch sent warmth spiraling through her, in a very real way, not only because of her feelings for him. He gasped, evidently feeling the same connection.
Phoebe had always been able to sense things about the merfolk now and then, but right now she could sense his presence right next to her, in her spirit, like a deeply rooted tree, steady in the face of any storm. Her power had never been this strong before.
On impulse, she dropped Tristan’s hand, shut her eyes, and imagined the room, letting this new sense roam. One glowing merfolk after another brushed against her senses, like she was feeling their presence with her heart rather than her eyes. They glowed to her inner-mind like the billows of sea creatures with their moonglow in the deep, dark waters below. Phoebe found it hard to sense each individual, but maybe she could if she focused enough.
Thinking about this, Phoebe looked at Elder Seamus, looked deeply through him, and tried to push away her own shock. What was he thinking? Why was he so angry? A face swam into her mind’s eye. A face of a little girl. She looked to be no more than six years old.
“You’ve lost someone, too. A little seawee girl. The one who died in the fishing nets. She was your grandchild,” Phoebe whispered. If she could weep, she would have.
She understood his hostility now. He wasn’t responding with logic but with a broken heart. She certainly understood a lot about hearts so shattered they cut a thousand slices inside.
The merman backed up with a snarl. Odessa sat up straight, and the others in the group leaned forward.
“Get out of my mind!” he roared, slamming his hand on the shell beside him. It cracked, and a fragment floated off into the current beside him.
He swam to Phoebe, eyes narrowed. “Just because you can know things about us, doesn’t mean you understand us. You still aren’t one of us. You aren’t.”
But she felt different than before. Tristan would never need to give her swimming lessons now; she knew she’d be able to easily keep up with him. Her tail fin felt natural. As natural as sensing all the merfolk in her mind. Unlike before, she had no doubt that this change was permanent.
It wasn’t just the merfolk she felt, though. The energy of the ocean itself filled her even now, thrumming through her, filling the water all around her. Eyes opened wide in awe, she swept her hand through the magic she could practically see in the water, everywhere, fluttering against her like a thousand fairies. A rushing current of magic filled her, rising like a storm. Her breath caught at the sheer joy and power in it. Did the others not feel this? Looking at their worn, tired faces, it was clear they did not.
She could hold the world in her hand. She was stronger than she ever had been in her life. The fearful Phoebe who had once been beaten in a cell four years ago would never have to take such abuse again. This Phoebe had power. She smiled, a slow, victorious smile that Phoebe Quinn had never smiled before.
Tristan blinked. “Aren’t you angry? Sad? If they are correct, you can never go home again. You have many years left in front of you. It’s a long, long time in a prison you didn’t mean to choose. You are trapped here, without your beloved sister.”
Her heart twisted; her smile faltered. A world without Sierra was impossible to imagine, as impossible as a world without Tristan. And to never see Corbin, who was like a brother? Or Micah or Nell? Or the glowing fairies dancing in the trees? And to never get to feed another apple to dear sweet Sam the unicorn, with his dark, wise eyes?
But even such a tremendous loss would be worth this sense of belonging, of strength. The sea wasn’t a prison―it was a home like she’d never known. “I’ll miss her, true. But she can visit me like I used to swim with you, right? I’m full of magic now, and I’ll have a tie to Sierra through Queenie. And I’ll be here. With you.”
She paused and hastily added, “With all the merfolk.”
There were so many more things she wanted to say. If she could learn enough control over this power and curb any influence over the merfolk, perhaps she and Tristan could be together when they grew older. Now she could be a suitable bondmate for him as a full mermaid, a permanent inhabitant of the sea.
Unless he was afraid of this new, more powerful version of her gift.
She couldn’t blame him if he were. She wanted to ask, but that wasn’t the kind of discussion she could bring herself to have in front of an audience. Especially a stunned audience that included both his mother and his father.
Odessa approached and held out her hand without a word. Phoebe twisted off the jeweled ring and dropped it back in the mermaid’s palm.
“Obviously, this requires some regrouping, some thinking,” Tristan said. He took her hand again, and another surge of warmth, of power, rolled through Phoebe. He inhaled sharply as the magic surged inside him too.
“On the contrary, my son, this means our plan should go forward immediately, before the wraiths and Baleros can grow any stronger. Phoebe can undoubtedly call sea creatures with her magic, like merfolk of the golden age. Her magic can be sent forth as a weapon. Her completed transformation seems to have set free what was already there, buried deeply. It calls even to me at this moment, don’t you feel it?”
A fissure of anxiety slid through Phoebe’s triumph, making her joy stumble. She had a sinking feeling she didn’t want to hear whatever Odessa was about to say.
But the elder mermaid ruthlessly continued, voice growing louder, “What was once a gentle nudge to trust her is now a clarion call to serve.”
To serve?
Odessa―a powerful elder mermaid―felt compelled to serve her? That sounded even worse than before.
Much, much worse.
hoebe looked at Tristan, who stared back at her, eyes huge. His breath heaved raggedly.
“Do you feel the compulsion, too? Is it worse?” she asked him. She had to know.
He was silent for a long moment, his grip tightening on her hand, and her heart sank.
“I’m not sure what I feel. It’s all so… much,” he whispered back, short of breath.
Phoebe recoiled as if he’d struck her. Her hands flew to her mouth, covering the quivering of her lips. She wouldn’t show weakness. Not here. Not now.
Based on watching fairy keepers with their charges, Phoebe had concluded that fairies didn’t mind the compulsion to stay with their keepers these days. On the contrary, the wee ones now danced with delight when Sierra arrived to spend time with them. Then again, they weren’t exactly fully thinking creatures, at least the little ones.
But how could she have a relationship as an equal with Tristan if she had power over him like this? As a master and a servant? Would they always be so close but so far from being true partners? She’d o
nly been fooling herself to hope she could keep her power contained. She felt sure this was why he wouldn’t meet her gaze after hearing the news of her increased magic. Even with all they had shared, surely he was second-guessing if their attachment was real enough to protect him from a life of servitude. To her, the mer-charmer.
The pain cut. She had to get away. Now.
Tristan tilted his head up enough to catch her eyes, and his confusion was evident. Shock, hurt, and bafflement paraded across his handsome face. She had wished to see excitement about her new status as a permanent part of his world. Hope. Instead, she saw pinched cheeks, upturned eyebrows. Fear for her? Or fear of her?
“Phoebe―” he began, hand out to her.
Holding his hand but knowing she’d never hold his heart hurt too much. She couldn’t bear to feel that distance between them. She wasn’t going to deal with fear and pain. Not anymore. She wasn’t even human anymore. What else did she have to lose?
“Fine, milady. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. I’ll even go fight water wraiths for you myself.”
Odessa’s smile was like a cat’s with canary feathers plastered all over it. Tristan inhaled sharply, but Phoebe kept talking. “But first, you told me I could go see my sister when we were done here.”
“We aren’t done here, and we don’t have time,” Odessa said.
“Mother, you promised,” Tristan protested, cheeks gaining twin spots of pink.
“Humans have broken many promises.”
“Phoebe’s not that kind of human.” Tristan snapped, and then paled.
Odessa laughed. “That’s right. She’s not any kind of human anymore.”
Tristan turned so he blocked his mother’s view of Phoebe for a moment. Go, he mouthed.
Phoebe uttered a soft laugh that held no humor at all. How ironic that she could finally stand up to Tristan’s mother, now that the power she had always wished for had destroyed the future Phoebe dreamed of with Tristan.
