Nixie paced back a few steps into a desolate and lonely corner. Her terrified eyes reached out for Esme, and for the first time Esme witnessed her stepmother being scared.
The opportunity shone out like a gilded light descending from heaven as another fiery thud could be heard from above. It seemed the seas were coming for Nixie. Or maybe they had come for Esme. She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She just saw that Nixie had stalled in her panic, and this gave Esme the motivation to get the hell out of there!
Esme didn’t look back as she swam for the door. She dashed as fast as her tail would go, speeding along with the current as she emerged into the dingy corridor. The thunderous echo followed behind her.
Esme saw light at the end of the tunnel and swam towards it.
Phew, she thought, as she finally made it out into the open sea. All around her, the currents were churning, but she narrowed her body and swam hard to get away. She let her fear give her strength until she made it far away from that dreadful place. She had swum so fast, her fear taking over, making her take flight as those fins the hardest they’d ever worked.
Esme was safe, but she didn’t dare look behind her.
She knew that this would be the very last time she would lay eyes on Nixie and she couldn’t help but feel some kind of relief.
She wanted to find good in Nixie, but after what she had witnessed in those black walls, she doubted it was a possibility.
Well, she thought, it was better to know the truth now than to find out later when much more damage could have been inflicted upon her. Sooner was better.
The ocean breathed as the water became clearer, and she swam more easily as the currents grew tranquil. A feeling of calm washed over her.
The worst was over.
14
Once Esme had got herself far away from the undersea storm and upon a warm, comforting shore, she thought about what had happened.
The shock of her stepmother turning on her was a harsh one, but Esme had accepted the truth, setting herself free from the chains of all that she had once knew.
She had never seen this coming, not from Nixie, but Esme decided it was important that she remain strong within herself. She doubted this would be the last of Nixie’s shenanigans. At least she knew now not to trust her, and she could focus her attention on more pressing concerns.
She was still deciding whether to fight this destiny that had been planned for her or whether to accept it.
Esme’s swim back had been a victorious one. She had risen to the top of the ocean, swimming farther than she had planned. She realized she was moments away from the sea’s warm shores and so, as it was a familiar place to her, she decided the shore would be the best place for her to sit in quiet contemplation, alone.
Curious to find herself in this habitable land again that was so forbidden to her kind, Esme stayed awhile listening to the birds chorus together.
As the sun warmed her hot body, Esme felt a hand take her arm.
She spun around and met a pair of golden-brown eyes.
“I wondered where you’d gotten to. You always make me come looking for you!” Lazarus said. “And now I find you in the place where no merman has ever been able to safely seek out without fear of a terrible fate at the hands of man!” He glanced around nervously from where he lay on the yellow bed of sand.
Lazarus’s tail twitched. How long would she want to stay up here where they were stranded so close to the domain of the two-legged humans? He just wanted to find Esme and bring her back home where he could keep her safe inside his fortress.
His tail kept twitching. Esme could tell that something had stirred him up so badly that he’d had no choice but to come up to the surface to find her. How he’d known to find her here, she had no clue.
“I heard that destructive force. It sounded ferocious, vibrating my own dingy hall despite the fact it was occurring far away from where I was. Still, I could hear it. Naturally, I sought it out and I followed you,” he said. “I hope you don’t find it intruding.”
Lazarus shifted closer to her. Their bodies lay symmetrically under the warm, glowing sun. The burning sphere hovered far above him in that clear blue sky, threatening to tumble down and burn him alive at any moment. He had never seen the sun before but yet here it was, a vibrant orange sphere radiating with hot light, making the land glow with its warmth. It fascinated and terrified him.
“But I had to come and make sure you were okay. I didn’t know who you were with, but I heard taunting or something, maybe a cackle,” he said and pulled his love into his arms.
Esme blushed. “You heard that? Yes, my stepmother and I were engaged in a confrontation.”
Esme stopped. She realised she hadn’t told Lazarus that much about Nixie, but now she figured there wasn’t that much left to tell.
“Your stepmother?” Lazarus asked while still admiring the sun.
“Yes, although I don’t think she is my stepmother anymore,” she whispered, feeling Nixie’s betrayal.
“Oh,” he muttered, not knowing what to say in reply. “Well. It’s getting warm. We should go.”
The sun was high and would soon be dangerously hot.
“You’re right,” Esme said as she felt the rays searing down her back, not yet hot enough to burn but heating up every inch of skin.
She hated hiding so much from Lazarus, but she felt like being guarded was the only way. So much of herself had to be held back from him.
Lazarus looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. He had softly turned his attention away from her, motioning towards the sun, gesturing to her that it was time to go. He was on the verge of pushing her back into the water, taking her away with him.
“We should go, Esme,” he ventured. He seemed worried. The admiration and fascination he’d had when he first arrived had disappeared. Nothing about him seemed relaxed.
“I only came here to find you. Neither of us should really be here!” Lazarus articulated, a stern look forming across his face.
“You’re right,” Esme agreed, she knew it was wrong for her to be on the shoreline, but she found comfort in coming here on her isolation, often enough.
She had heard the stories about mermaids being captured by the cruel hooks of fishermen lying in wait, but this had never deterred her from coming here. She found peace and tranquility on the sandy shores. She couldn’t explain it. Something about the warm, grainy land just seemed safe to her. Sturdy. She never felt as if she was in harm’s way.
Lazarus’s eyes lit up. He hadn’t expected Esme to agree with him so quickly, so he didn’t hesitate to say, “Let’s go!”
He took Esme’s hand and together they leaped into the sea that danced before them. With a flick of their tails, they disappeared beneath the layers of blue.
15
Nixie cackled when she saw the sweet image appear in her glass sphere. Everything was progressing so beautifully.
Her chambers echoed with her rapturous laughter as the vulnerable figures of Esme and Lazarus shared a tender moment on the sandy shore.
“It must be love!” Nixie howled. “My goodness, he truly wants her. Even coming to the most dangerous places known to merfolk in order to bring her home! How foolish. How opportune! This works out perfectly for my grand scheme.”
She swam over to her mirror and patted her curls.
“All I have to do is make sure she’s still distracted by this handsome fellow and bye-bye, fated quest—bye-bye, exploring the depths to find that which was lost. She won’t know what she’s destroyed in this flight of lovestruck fancy!”
Nixie clearly saw Lazarus as Esme’s weakness. Lazarus was the catalyst that would lead Esme to fail, a distraction so pulsating with darkness that, given the right push, he would plunge Esme into chaos.
If Nixie was going to succeed in ruling the entire ocean and dominating it in her own dark power, then Esme would have to fail. There was no doubt of that. She must destroy Esme, and with her, the fated prophecy that the girl was destined
to break the curse’s enchantment.
Esme was the enemy. Sacrificing the sweet girl was pity, but when had pity ever held Nixie back?
If Esme plummeted to her eternal death without getting to save the dreary kingdom, then that would only satisfy Nixie’s ambitions all the more.
16
As Esme had jumped back into the water with Lazarus holding onto her hand tightly, a thought called to her.
It sang its poignant message in a sweet but firm voice, “You must find the palace, for what lies ahead is something unseen, and if you don’t go, you’ll miss what sparkles and gleams.”
She didn’t question the thought as she followed in the fierce current that would lead them back to Lazarus’s domain in due time, but all of a sudden, Esme turned her course.
She didn’t say much. All she said was, “I need to go somewhere first, before we go back home.”
And because Lazarus wanted to make sure she came back with him, he went along with her wish. After hours of swimming, Esme approached the one place she thought she would never enter again.
The blue gates still looked magnificent despite the slime that had grown on them since the palace was deserted.
Of course, with Nixie choosing to reign in her own cave, the palace that had once been her home had dwindled to this wreckage.
Esme turned to say goodbye to Lazarus as she approached the fateful doors that were her old home. She looked wistfully as the merman looked on wondering what she would be doing once she disappeared beyond those gates.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she looked into his disappointed eyes, “but I must do this alone.”
“Okay. But I am at a loss as to what you think you will find here.”
Esme tugged on the gates guarding the entrance to the palace. The metal was hard and rugged, tough on her delicate skin.
She pulled harder, then turned to Lazarus. “I know, but I have to listen to what I heard. Something is speaking to me here, and I can’t figure out what it is until I get in there—”
“—and find whatever it is that you are supposed to find,” Lazarus finished for her.
“I guess that is so,” Esme whispered, feeling like her words were being overheard.
“Well, I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for,” Lazarus said with a sigh.
Whenever he felt like he had Esme, really had her, she would pull away from him him again. He wondered if he could ever really have her, fully, without her holding out on him. She always seemed to be distant with him in one way or another.
Lazarus looked back at her once before turning away and swimming off alone.
Esme fumbled around in her father’s chamber. She had been here several hours now and wondered just what she had come here for. The search had so far proven fruitless. All she had uncovered were old possessions that held no apparent meaning now that the king was dead and gone.
But still she persevered as the song kept on singing to her, willing her to find what it so badly wanted her to discover.
She was about to leave, feeling defeated, when she caught sight of something gold glinting from the other side of the chamber.
Moving closer to examine the object, she gasped. It was an old scroll wrapped with some string that had begun to rot.
Her father had been a scholar before he was crowned. A tireless academic, he could speak many languages even before he turned twenty. Shortly after his twenty-first year, he was given the crown but his love for learning remained.
Esme reached for the scroll, pulling away at the books that held it pinned down.
Now that the scroll was free, she carefully unrolled the fragile paper. One heavy touch and all would disintegrate.
The writing was barely legible, and the handwriting put a lump in her throat. She softly read it aloud to herself, wanting to digest the words without allowing them to be heard by any lurking ears.
I, King Nereus, Ruler of the Plentiful Seas,
I write this letter at a time of great dire need, but there is much happiness projected above an illusion that nobody can see through.
The woman I married is a dark, vengeful creature who seeks power and self-gratification. Fortunately she has not been able to pass this selfishness down to my daughter, Esme, the rightful ruler after I perish. And with this at hand, I write out my desire that she and all of the kingdom’s people know the treachery and the horrific ambitions that reside in my wife’s heart.
I fear she may attempt to take over the kingdom when I pass on, and if such a time comes, Esme needs to be aware that Nixe is the creator of our kingdom’s curse despite the illusion of happiness she places on our home. She is cause of all our suffering. Nobody else is to blame.
Had I been more aware, I would have recognized this enemy long ago. But alas I was foolish and rushed into the marriage, expecting my beautiful bride to lay down her dark ways and turn to the good. Now I realize such a thing is not possible as her heart does not resound with kindness nor humility.
She will likely create destruction when I am gone, but I hope that even in the dark days of my passing, my daughter will be able to expose Nixie for what she is and know her true nature.
King Nereus
Esme rolled the scroll carefully, expelling a tear as she did so.
Her father knew all along. Nixie was not the kind stepmother she had believed her to be. She was the creator of this wicked curse that threatened to destroy them all.
All along, Nixie had been aiming her sights much higher than the queenship. She had married for the ultimate prize. Not the king’s crown but complete domination of the seas.
17
Esme hastened out of her father’s chamber, slamming the blue gates behind her as she left.
She began swimming away, with the scroll safely tucked in a pouch carried around her neck.
She could have returned back to Lazarus’s domain, but she was going to find Sheba. After discovering her father’s revelation, Esme needed answers.
Getting to the lagoon would be dangerous, but she had to do it. The scroll revealed that King Nereus had known Nixie’s intentions all along. It was time to dig deeper into the truth. Finally, some part of Esme had accepted this destiny, as she understood just how serious this was turning out to be.
She’d caught a glimpse of the real Nixie and now read her father’s revelation. She didn’t want any more gruesome surprises coming her way!
As Esme found herself in the familiar dark current, her spine tingled like something was watching her. She tried to ignore the feeling as she passed through.
It wasn’t a pleasant view that met her eyes.
Grotesque plants that grew in these seas watched her in amazement, glaring at her. Vile brown flowers, with buds equally as ugly as the first flowers that had bloomed, gawked at Esme as she swam through the weeds. She was forced to stop and free herself every time she got caught in their slimy traps.
As she untangled herself from yet another foul plant, an eel flashed by in front of her. It hissed and growled, giving her a frightful stare as it came closer. It wasn’t a pretty animal. It was a murky gray and had just one eye that glowed vilely in a putrid green. However, the eel could see very well with that one eye.
The eel glared at Esme as its tail slashed out with a venomous sting, moving too quickly for Esme to dodge.
She cried out in terror as the sharp sting hit her right in the middle of her fishtail. The pain surged through her body, overwhelming her senses. The energy drained from her as the eel spun around, ready to attack again.
And it did. Its tail swung above her, lunging for Esme’s neck, tugging at the cloth bag that hung below it, ripping it away from her.
She shrieked as she realized the bag with the precious scroll had been stolen, but it was too late. The eel swam away, glaring at Esme as it looked back at her with the bag in its teeth.
Esme swam hard to catch up with the eel but he was gone. Turning away with much disappointment, she swam into the current again, head
ing straight for the surface where safety could be found.
The scroll was lost but at least she already knew the truth.
18
Esme leaned over the great wall that surrounded the island in Sheba’s lagoon. Esme’s fishtail was throbbing. Blood trickled down her tail and onto her fins. She was still alive, but she needed help, and soon. Ruby-red blood kept pouring down her fishtail, the red liquid staining it a dull purplish pink instead of its usual purple and gold shimmer.
Esme wasn’t sure if her injury was fatal but the pain simmered throughout her lower body. Pangs radiated throughout her stomach and her womanly regions. It struck her as odd that the eel had stung her on her fishtail but yet the pain traveled all the way up to her most sensitive parts.
Esme was grateful the wound wasn’t too bad at this point, but the pain was becoming unbearable.
Finally in the distance, a white silhouette appeared, moving closer as it contrasted brightly with the tropical blue waters.
Her white hair floated around her as Sheba made her approach. As she waded through the waters, Sheba’s eyes turned to Esme’s bloody fishtail.
“Oh child, that doesn’t look too healthy! Still, in these parts, danger is to be expected,” Sheba remarked.
“Yes. Well, I was attacked!” Esme said weakly.
Sheba looked closer at the fishtail. The wound was open and red, and the blood seemed to be flowing faster down Esme’s fishtail.
“You will need to have that taken care of,” Sheba said, “but it’s not fatal. Tell me, why were you attacked?” She took her eyes away from Esme’s injury, although she didn’t want to because she was going deeper into the authenticity of the injury, metaphysically.
Esme paused to gather her thoughts. She didn’t know why she’d been attacked. She didn’t know whether it was just a random occurrence or a more specific act of malice. It could have been directed at her as the eel stole her cloth bag containing her father’s handwritten scroll, but how would someone have known it was available to take?
Sirens and Scales Page 164
