Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  It was decided, then. This enduring mirage was the sign that I needed, just one more concrete omen nailing my resolve into place.

  I let my palm fall from the pillar, and in the next gust of wind, the illusion smeared and was stripped away by the currents. Turning back toward Axel and Tara, I trudged back through my footprints to the van.

  “I need to get to the coast,” I announced, pulling my cowl down below my mouth to ensure they heard me. “I’ll explain everything on the way.”

  Perhaps it was my obvious determination, or perhaps they already suspected they’d been led to resurrect me for something bigger than us, but they came forward without objecting. We piled into the van, Axel in the driver’s seat, and I geared up to summarize my adventures for them on the ride. There was just so much to cover, and it was all so fantastical and a lot to swallow in one van trip.

  “You guys might want to strap in for this,” I warned cheekily, a sliver of my old self trickling back into my spirit.

  Tara craned around from the passenger seat to face me. “Well?”

  Here it goes. I took a breath, ready to share the secrets that I harbored once and once only, and exclusively to these two souls because they found themselves involved. “So, for starters, I’ve kind of always had gills…”

  33

  I plunged into the cool embrace of the Red Sea, and the water gushing around me again was an inverse breath of fresh air. But there was no time to revel in it–I had to get to Atlantis. It had already been such a long journey to the coast; I was terrified that all efforts at this point were futile. But I had to try.

  Axel and Tara had met my outlandish confessions with dumbfounded silence, Tara slack-jawed and Axel’s eyebrows stuck elevated where I could see them in the rear-view mirror. The silence lasted two heartbeats, maybe three–and then Tara clacked her teeth shut and said,

  “After resurrecting you from the dead and watching you meld with a jellyfish…the craziest part about that tale is that I actually believe you. Geez, Sayler. I knew you said that heap of Atlantean ruins was a crown, back in the professor’s trailer.” She thwacked Axel’s shoulder with the back of her hand, glaring at him indignantly. “And you thought it was a gazebo.”

  I filled the rest of the drive by penning a note to Sandy–told Tara and Axel to mail it to my mom. I wasn’t ready to tell her everything I’d just divulged to my first two confidantes, but it was past time that she heard from me. I made it sound like everything was peachy but that my schedule was rigorous and demanding, and we’d made some exciting discoveries that had us poring over them 24/7.

  That would have to do for now. I ached for a lazy morning of pancakes stacked sky-high and dripping with butter in our rustic Arizona kitchen, Sandy and I leaning over the same plate from opposite oaken barstools, but that was a sentiment I tucked away for later. Something I pinned on the mental bulletin board to look forward to so that I had to come back.

  Raincheck, Mom. I promise.

  And then just like that I was back underwater.

  A thick sheath of bubbles sparkled past me, tickling my skin. Strangely, the tingling sensation did not abate as they dissipated. Instead it focused in around my hips and loin area, growing more intense. A glance downward showed an alarming ripple like bugs crawling under my skin. I gave a single, writhing twist of aversion before something entrail-like burst through my skin and slithered free into the water. I screamed in horror, trying to kick away, but the entity was anchored inside me, the root fused to my flesh.

  Another followed the first, then another and another. I transformed like a rapidly-blooming flower, frilly shoots unspooling all around me. Twist and thrash though I did, I only succeeded in tangling the tattered mess around my legs.

  And then it was over, the sensation of slitting flesh ceasing, and I thrashed a few moments more before exhaustion calmed my limbs, my fit stilling. My heart thrummed wildly in my chest, but I was able to take a more analytical look at what had come over me.

  Like a huge, tattered ballgown starting below the waist, shreds of frilly peach, champagne, and silver billowed out amongst my legs. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I had sprouted jellyfish tentacles. That was a new kind of crazy, but really it would just be a fitting revelation of the latent side effects of my resurrection. Old Jelly’s tentacles had branded themselves into my body, and then melded with me outright during my rebirthing. It stood to reason that meant I might possess some manner of the creature’s aspects.

  And it would seem they were activated upon contact with the water.

  I swished around experimentally, and the fluid appendages untangled themselves from my legs and arranged themselves around me. I reached down to slide my fingers through the ruffles, finding them silken and web-like.

  Inking Abyss. I was a full-on beast of the sea.

  As I combed through the tendrils, my fingers encountered one that was different–one of the black links that transferred visions. I extracted it from the cluster, marveling at the possibility that I had inherited that power as well.

  Could I really…?

  That’s it, Sayler. Of course. It was the missing piece, the edge I could use to speak on behalf of the ocean, to reach people, where others might have failed.

  I would get in their heads. Show them, make them feel, what words could not always describe.

  It was becoming increasingly undeniable that I was on the right track with this newfound ambition.

  My head came up, doubts diminishing, my eyes adjusting to the underwater world with razor-sharp focus. Liberated, I pinned the far-off depths in my sights.

  I’m coming for you, Abraxia. And so help me, if you’ve touched a scale on Coda’s fin…

  I didn’t finish the thought, but a fiery vengeance was rising inside of me. I pointed myself in the direction of Atlantis–the instinct coming even more naturally than the first time–and with an equally instinctive propeller-like twist of my tentacles, I torpedoed into the gem-blue wilderness.

  Unlike my first journey to Atlantis, I was a speeding bullet the second time. I made quick work of the chilled, sinuous miles, blasting through the vibrant coral reef displays near the coast, churning through constellations of fish, whisking past meandering sharks that no longer made me look twice and ghosting into the more ominous underworld beyond.

  I’m coming, Coda. Hold out just a little longer.

  I tried to take some small comfort in the fact that, if Abraxia’s plan had succeeded and she’d seduced Codexious and taken the throne, then the crown wouldn’t have come to me in a mirage in the desert. And surely I’d be able to feel it, somehow, that the sea had a new queen. It would be a sense in my bones, or a subtle change in the water. Something. As it was, the only change I felt was the transformation that had taken place inside myself.

  There was hope. A sliver of it, narrow as the horizon line that wavered at the far edges of the ocean.

  I flew toward it, burrowing deeper and deeper into the uncharted reaches of the sea.

  And then, I was there. Back in that mystical region hidden so perfectly from the rest of the world. A subtle, foreboding glamour had settled over the city, the aurora glimmering just a shade darker than usual. That, or I just saw things differently through my hybrid eyes. Could sense the taint rippling under the surface of things.

  The gates opened to me like always. Cautious and poised, I slipped through, my lengthy, sinuous train slithering in after me. The streets appeared empty, the bubbly hubbub gone dormant. Was everybody gone? All primping and preening hopefuls sloshing off in dismay to sulk in their watery corners across the sea, in light of another claiming the apple of Coda’s eye?

  Was I too late?

  I slunk through the canals to the palace, slipping in without a sound. This time, I knew exactly where to look for the throne room, cutting through the halls and winding through the lavish maze until those double doors loomed before me, sealed and cold.

  A treacherous secret radiated from within. I could feel its
dark taunt, whispering around the edges of the barricade.

  Like the gates, the doors swung inward to admit me, no key or password required. And in I wafted, a lacy ghost come back to haunt the figure who lounged on the dais at the foot of the throne, her voluptuous head of dark hair sprawled backward across the lap of the man who sat on the throne.

  I fought to keep my distress in check, seeing her there. From the appearance of things, I was too late.

  Brax raised her head at the sound of my entrance, eyes widening and her back pressing into the throne when she recognized me, her palm finding the platform beneath her for support.

  That’s right, vixen. What was it she had said? She had never expected me to stick around long enough, or interfere thoroughly enough, to pose a threat? She shouldn’t have underestimated me. That was always everyone’s last mistake. How do you like me now?

  Maybe I had been on the fence about my time in Atlantis, and maybe I had been using discretion about getting involved with the regent, but now, just because she had pegged me as so inconsequential, I would evolve into a glorious sea-beast, come back here and stake my claim on the throne, rip the crown from her head if I had to, and seduce Codexious in front of her so passionately that even her promiscuous mer-loins would be utterly scandalized and she’d have to look away. And if she had successfully ingrained the part of Turoxo that loved her into Coda’s essence, then it would be Turoxo I seduced as well, and she could be doubly jealous.

  Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t do those things just because she had committed my pet peeve and underestimated me. It still had something to do with me caring for Coda and the ocean as a whole, but in that moment it didn’t hurt to let any motive that stirred inside me rise up to infuse my body with righteous indignation.

  Abraxia’s moment of recognition flowed right into equal bewilderment as she took in my jellyfish extensions. To her credit, she did not crumble into a blubbering, stuttering mess at my surprise return, and the state in which I returned. In spite of her obvious surprise, she composed herself, and when she spoke, it was a matter-of-fact,

  “You’re alive.”

  Alive and kicking. Or writhing, as it were. What I said was, “Quite.”

  “What…” she began by way of addressing my unexpected transformation.

  “This,” I said, my frilly ballgown of appendages curling out to its full impressive circumference, “is, essentially, what always happens when someone goes and underestimates me.” I turn into a jellyfish.

  She eyed the curling shreds of peach, and I roiled them so she got the full, champagne- and silver-shimmering effect.

  It felt weird, communicating with that many limbs at once. Like controlling the hairs on your head.

  Wouldn’t that be nice.

  While she was marveling–in her composed, unimpressed way–over my evolved body, I cheated my gaze past her to Codexious. The end of his fin waved absently at the base of the throne, his muscled forearms resting idly on the slab-like arm rests on either side of him, his face pointing straight ahead with a blank, uninterested expression glazing his features.

  It was like he didn’t even see me.

  Coda?

  The regent blinked, and a flash of emerald winked through his gaze. Was that a trick of the light? A fragment of a green aurora sparking down through the glass dome far above? I looked up, finding a lavender web of light bending beyond the glass.

  I frowned as my attention settled back on Coda. Were those Turoxo’s eyes looking out? I wasn’t close enough to see what color they were beyond the impression they cast when they caught the light.

  Trying to keep my suspicions hidden, I dragged my focus back to Brax.

  “I thought I made it clear it was nothing personal,” she said.

  “I’m not sure how poisoning and seducing the man I love isn’t personal,” I snapped before I even realized what I meant to say. It surprised me almost as much as it surprised her.

  “The man you love,” she mused in intrigued enlightenment.

  My whole body went hot, and I swallowed a flustered desire to retract the sentence. It was too late now. I’d said it. Might as well let her sweat under how serious this was.

  It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes on her, and not keep stealing glances at the zombified regent behind her. It was torture, seeing him like this. Knowing she’d gotten to him. How long had he been altered by her potion, trapped in her spell?

  “Well,” Abraxia enunciated with dramatic gusto. “Love is a…tragedy, isn’t it? It didn’t turn out well for your mother and her leggy lover, and it wouldn’t have turned out well for you and Coda, either.” She slid the back of her hand down the underside of Coda’s tail, twining her fingers languidly through the silver tatters of his fin.

  I gritted my teeth, fighting a wave of jealousy. That isn’t Coda, I told myself, and proceeded to chant it over and over again in my head to keep from lunging forward right then and there to rip out her throat. It would not do to be hasty. I knew all too well how sly and calculating this mermaid was. She had bided her time and watched her competition fawning over her target for months without so much as a twitch, waiting until the opportune moment to dart in and stake her claim. I had no doubt she would be equally cunning in her need to thwart me now.

  “Better than this is working out for him,” I pointed out dryly.

  “Mm–still debatable, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Yes, because I can see you’re positively dripping with concern.”

  “Look, Sayler,” Brax drawled apologetically. “I’m sorry you had to get all…dressed up for nothing. But I’m afraid you’re too late.”

  “Too late for what? To rip your head off? Looks like it’s nicely positioned on your neck for just that, still.”

  She smiled thinly, gently–almost as if taking pity on a child who didn’t understand something. “We are set to be married, Sayler. The coronation ceremony is taking place at the violet aurora. In the meantime–we have already bonded, if you take my meaning.”

  If I thought the jealousy was already raging full-force inside me, that stoked the flame to an inferno that nearly crippled me. It was all I could do to keep my head, blinking back the flames as they licked at their window to freedom, wanting to roar free.

  “And, you know,” Brax went on ruefully, “mermaids mate for life, and all that. So if you ‘rip my head off’, as you so eloquently put it, your beloved Codexious will die of a broken heart. Because I…am his beloved. See how that works?”

  I scoffed, because it was the only reaction I could bear entertaining. “Have you met Coda? He would no sooner die of a broken heart than he would tearing things limb from limb in the Deep.”

  “What makes you so sure? Amphitrite did. And she was a goddess. Tell me you really don’t think Codexious has a sensitive side.”

  Unfortunately, I knew she was right. I’d experienced that side of him first-hand. But that couldn’t just be it.

  Engaging Abraxia wasn’t getting me anywhere. And now she had successfully planted a seed in my mind that warded against engaging her to a more murderous extent, where diplomacy clearly wasn’t an option. I turned to the compromised regent.

  “Coda?” I murmured, probing for some sign that he was in there. Even just an inkling would do, would prove there was hope of me getting to him.

  In a delayed fashion, he turned toward the sound of my voice, his gaze resting without recognition on my face. Something was different about his features, the way the shadows fell past the rugged planes of his face. And those eyes–emerald clear through.

  Dismay caught in my throat. Was it really too late?

  Why all the fuss with my resurrection and transformation, then? What was all this…cryptic, frilly nonsense for if not to equip me for the task?

  No, I refused to believe it was hopeless. That Coda wasn’t in there somewhere, capable of being reached. I would just have to do more than call his name.

  I knew there wasn’t a chance I was going to get clo
se enough to touch him, not with Abraxia guarding him like a dog at his feet. What, then? How could I stir the essence of Codexious, deep down inside him, without making that intimate connection?

  Unless…

  I didn’t have to get close to him to spark that intimacy. He had a multitude of senses, and they didn’t all require I cozy up to his direct nerves, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

  An idea ignited in my mind. We had formed our relationship around more than a physical, or even intellectual connection. It hadn’t all been words, caresses, kisses and looks. There had been music.

  We had our song.

  And what ignited sentiment, passion, and the nostalgia of precise points in time or phases of your life, if not music? It had a way of taking you back, into the moment, memories and feelings tied into the melody. There had always been a magic to it, even above the Surface.

  Careful not to show my flash of genius on my face, I schemed my next move. I blinked, once, a million heartbeats seeming to fit into that blink–and then, without warning, I retracted my fan of tentacles into a tight-knit comet tail and whisked out the door.

  I flurried back through the palace, knowing Brax would grow quickly suspicious of my unexpected departure and would come after me to see what I was up to. As well she should, because she didn’t have everything as neatly tied up in a bag as she thought. She might have her devious little love potions, but I had tricks, too.

  Blasting out of the palace, I aimed myself in the direction of the cathedral and didn’t slow until I got there, plunging down through the dome portal. The pipe organ waited on its crooked little pedestal across the chamber, five rows of abalone keys taut with the dormant symphony that was always so keen to burst into song like the first birds of spring.