With a Kiss

by Stephanie Fowers

  Chapter Fifteen

  I would be a mermaid fair;

  I would sing to myself the whole of the day;

  With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;

  And still as I comb'd I would sing and say,

  'Who is it loves me? who loves not me?'

  —Alfred Tennyson, The Mermaid

  Snowflakes danced across the sky, melting into the green depths of Crystal Lake. Hobs plunged the paddle into the water after the melted flakes, rowing us further and further away from the shore. So far, there were no signs of the Merrow, but the other side looked too far away to get there easily. Something terrible was about to happen. Seaweed clung ominously to the paddle. Hobs was trying to put us at ease. "They can't catch us . . ."

  ". . . we're the gingerbread man?" I finished for him. "And we all know what happened to him."

  He went silent. Bugul steered us away from the island in the middle of the lake. The reeds swayed silently in the cold chill. "Just keep your mind blank," Hobs said, "or they'll use it against you."

  "I have nothing to hide." I gave him a significant look. The nymphs had gotten to me. Just like the wolves, they had alluded to all sorts of things that Hobs . . . Hobany—no, the prince!—was keeping from me. "How about you?" I asked. Do you have anything to hide?"

  "Plenty." As usual he was unruffled. "If we're not careful, we'll be their next snack. The Merrow feed on the foils of men."

  "So women are safe?"

  He laughed appreciatively. "Merrow distort the truth. Ever hear anyone talk behind your back? You can't help but listen, but when you do, you're sorry. You'll wish you can get it out of your mind, but it won't leave. It's like acid eating at you. That's exactly what the Merrow are like. They steal your thoughts. You don't want to hear what they have to say. Even if you know they present the truth like a lie—that's what they do—their words eat at you anyway, and they swallow your trust whole. And then? You find yourself turning against those you shouldn't."

  "So basically listen to no one but you, Hobs?"

  "Yeah." He treated me to a dry look. "Now you're getting it."

  I leaned against the pile of blankets and cushions stashed inside the boat. Babs shivered beside me, and I dragged out a woolen blanket and laid it over her lap. Babs peered out into the lake and stiffened. I followed her gaze, seeing a dark form slide through the water. I gulped, suspicious that I was feeling only a shadow of the fear that was coming.

  "Where are you going?" The question echoed across the still waters. Hobs put his finger to his lips, but I didn't have to say anything. "To deliver the baby," another voice answered. Hobs tilted his head significantly at me, and I knew he was right. The thought had been stolen from my mind. "To the queen, to the queen," the Merrows chanted. ". . . but what does she want with the baby?"

  "It isn't hers," another said.

  That wasn't my thought. My brows furrowed, and I interrupted their ghostly conversation. "Excuse me? Not hers?" I asked. "Where did you get that?"

  Hobs?

  I glanced at him, and true to form, he looked amused. "Don't talk to Merrow. They're just rocking the boat. They'd love to tip us over into their loving and cold arms. Wouldn't you, my dears?"

  They purred like cats.

  The last thing I wanted was to end up in that water with them waiting for us. I tried to judge how close we were to the snowy shores, and saw a green face staring up at me from the water. She was beautiful, with sharp green teeth and long, seaweed-like hair. Yeah, I know it doesn't sound beautiful, but it was a weird kind of beauty all the same. "Come swim with us," she begged. She leaned heavily on the frosted boat, tipping the side up.

  I lunged to the other side, yanking Babs with me. "Why can't you stop them, Hobs?"

  "What do you want me to do? We're not dealing with mortals here."

  Babs gritted her teeth, her little body rigid. She couldn't tear her eyes from the green creatures swimming past us like starved sharks. What if the Merrow weren't lying? What if they had read Hobs' mind like they had read mine . . . or maybe even Bugul's? If the faery queen wasn't her mother, no way was I giving Babs up to her.

  "What does the queen want with this baby?" I whispered.

  I wasn't sure if I was asking Hobs or the Merrow, but the Merrow were quicker to speak up. "What do you care? You're stuck with her until you deliver her."

  Babs turned to me, and I gave her a weak smile. She looked hurt.

  "Perhaps we should take her off your hands!" I felt corpse-like fingers slide past my hand to twist around Babs. They felt like cold seaweed—a terrible feeling in the dead of winter. "Come with us, sweetie. The keeper doesn't want you. She never did!"

  Babs screamed.

  I slapped the Merrow's slimy forehead, dunking her back into the lake. She bobbed up, water dribbling from her mouth. Strangely enough, she was laughing. Hobs grimaced and kept rowing.

  Bugul growled low in his throat. Babs breathed hard and trembled like she was going to cry. "It's not true," I told her. "I only want to keep you safe. Bugul, take her." I gently pushed the little girl to him, so I could guard the sides. "Don't let them get her." I trusted him more than Hobs right now. I mean, what did Hobs' riddle to the wolves mean? Whose identity did they get wrong? If the Merrow were reading Hobs' mind, then maybe that was the answer—Babs wasn't the faery queen's baby.

  "Who is she?" I asked the Merrow before I could examine the wisdom of doing so. I knew they would answer my questions—distorted truth was better than nothing; or was it?

  "What is her name?" the Merrow asked me back.

  "She has no name," I breathed.

  "Who doesn't?" Another Merrow playfully bobbed up next to the way too touchy-feely one. I realized they were toying with me. They were stretching out Hobs' riddle to drive me crazy. They had probably stolen it from my mind too.

  Hobs looked stressed and paddled harder. "We could really use those earplugs about now. You mind using your fingers? Just poke them in your ears. Works every time."

  He was right. I kept my mouth shut, but my thoughts poured out without my permission.

  "Until she knows her name, the princess has no power," a Merrow said before sliding under our boat, answering my next question.

  "Consult the faery books," another Merrow suggested with a crafty look. "Then you shall know who she is."

  The Merrow were supposed to lie. How was that a lie? The faerytales had to have the answers. It seemed perfectly logical. They were prophecies here. Snow White's evil stepmother had a mirror, and so did the hag. Was Babs Snow White? Rapunzel's hair grew quickly, and so had our baby's. Cinderella had a faery godmother . . . if you could call me a godmother. Sleeping Beauty had a curse—then again, I had been the sleepy one. Babs was more like a Magic Goose stuck to the innkeeper's daughter. We were all the innkeeper's daughter. Still. No way. Babs couldn't end up being everything in the books.

  Ignoring Hobs' scowl, I stole the backpack and dug through it to find the faerytales. Bugul shook his head, but it wasn't enough to stop me. No more secrets. I had to know.

  Hobs made a move to stop me, but I turned from him. "We don't know her name," he said. "She's Rumpelstiltskin for all we know."

  "Not so loud." I glanced over at Babs. The little girl looked terrified. I tried to reassure her with a smile.

  "C'mon, really?" Hobs asked. "You think it will take flipping through a bunch of faerytales to learn her name?"

  "She's got to have a name."

  "Are you sure? Oh no, honey, we forgot to name our baby," he mocked. "How irresponsible of us. Well, let's brainstorm and come up with one really quick. How about Bobby Joe? Ashton? Billy Jean?"

  Would he take nothing seriously? "What's with the guy names?"

  "Our princess is cute enough to pull it off. Huh, baby girl?"

  Babs hid her face shyly against Bugul's massive chest. "Thanksh," she whispered. Hobs had a way with females, just not with me. Bugul sighed, but his expression softened on the little girl anyway, and he smooth
ed down her snarly hair.

  The Merrow watched us, dripping with menace—just like everything else had here in the Sidhe. If I didn't figure out how I was supposed to keep Babs safe, and quick, we'd be toast—soggy toast, since we were dealing with Merrow. I groaned when the Merrow giggled and repeated my inward pun.

  "Soggy toast. Soggy toast."

  "The faery queen told me she didn't have a name," I realized. Why hadn't I thought of this before? I grabbed Hobs' arm in my excitement. "That's what we have to do. We have to name her! Isn't that the source of a faery's power, as long as no one bad knows your name? She can inherit everything that belongs to her if we can just figure out who she is!" I remembered the enchantment her mother had bestowed on her. She could rule if she loved. Maybe someone who loved her could help her find out who she truly was, though I refused to think about what Babs would lose if she loved me back. The hag's curse made sure of that. Hobs stared at me like I was crazy. He flexed his arm under my grip, and I pulled away. "I mean it. What do you think of naming her? We'll call her, uh . . . Blest?"

  "Sounds like a cow," one of the Merrow said. Hobs' eyes widened, and I knew exactly where that thought had come from.

  I frowned at Hobs for even thinking it. I loved that name. "Fine, we'll call her something more faery-like." I studied Babs' face. Her cheeks were pink and adorable. She held her breath, waiting in suspense. "How about Apple?" I asked.

  The Merrow giggled. "What if she ends up looking like one?" they sang. "The kids at school will be merciless."

  I hit Hobs for that. "We have to call her something!"

  "Halley," the Merrow whispered. "Halley." My name, caressed by their lips, sent a shiver of revulsion through me. The Merrow sank into the swamp, still chanting it beneath the water, leaving bubbles in their wake. I stared into the empty surface. Bugul's hand went to my back in warning, but I was being careful. I knew they'd snatch me the instant I got too close. Babs screamed behind me. I swiveled, seeing the Merrow grabbing their trophy. They had her around the neck. A splash was the only thing that remained of her.

  "Babs!"

  I plunged into the disgusting water after her. It was warm like a hot tub when it should've been cold. I tried not to think of what was down there. The only thing I cared about was my little girl. I came back to the surface, shaking my hair free from the muck, catching sight of Babs' bobbing head. I couldn't hide anything from the Merrow anymore. Now they knew it all. They surrounded us gleefully. I swam through the lake, trying to reach Babs' tiny fingers. They flailed over the waters and she sank. The Merrow had a firm grip on her. I screamed out and kicked them to get her free.

  "She loves this child?" they asked in wonder. "She cannot love this child!"

  I dragged Babs' head out of the water and hugged her to me. She sobbed into my neck, choking and gasping for breath. My legs pumped against the water, my free arm paddling to keep us upright. Of course, I knew the curse the hag had given her before she had stolen Babs away. If the princess loved, that love would vanish away, but I could love without Babs loving me in return. There was no harm in that.

  "Why?" I shouted. "Why can't I love her?" I held onto her tightly. The Merrow would not get to her while I had her. "Is it forbidden to love this child?"

  "Yesssssssssssssss," they answered at once.

  Hobs dove in after us. The Merrow screamed out in delight and deserted us for him. They would love him to death. "Son of a queen," they purred, coming in closer. Their claw-like hands twisted over him. I gasped. I came face-to-face with one of them. Her golden eyes blinked just inches from mine. "Who are you?" she asked. "You've been here before, have you not?"

  I remembered the hands. Had I?

  "They can't hurt you!" Hobs shouted out. He tried to push past the Merrow to get to us. "Just keep your mind blank. They'll twist your thoughts and use your fears against you." But I couldn't control my fears, any more than I could control the heavy beating of my heart. I was sure Hobs would feel it as soon as he fought his way through the Merrow to get to us.

  They pouted their lips at him, but allowed him to scrape past. He was better at guarding his fears. He threw his arm around Babs' neck and dragged me against him. I wasn't the only one breathing hard. His chest heaved in and out, and I clutched onto him tightly, not sure if I should, but he was the only one who could save us now. "Don't let go," he said.

  "You came for her," the Merrow said. "You've broken the rules, Hobany. It is forbidden."

  "Bugul!" Hobs shouted. He boosted Babs up and over the water, shoving her at the anxious Leprechaun. Bugul caught her in his grip, dragging her over the side of the boat. The water from her waterlogged body sprayed over our faces. As soon as she was safe, Babs buried her face in her hands, tears pouring through her fingers. I couldn't stand seeing her so scared.

  The Merrow cried out in delight. "Your mother wouldn't like this. No, she wouldn't at all." They trailed moist fingers along Hobs' arm. He elbowed them back.

  "Who's your mother?" I shouted. Was he somehow related to Babs? Her brother? They both had blonde hair. It made sense! Why wouldn't the faery queen want Hobs to come after his own sister?

  Hobs took a steadying breath and tried to toss me onto the boat after Babs. The Merrow shrieked, and I felt their bony fingers clasp onto me in a deathly grip just as my chin cleared the side of the boat. They tugged me back into the soupy depths with them. I felt like I was tangled in seaweed and couldn't struggle free. Hobs clutched me possessively under the arms and wrenched me back from them. I pushed my head out of the water and gasped for air. They cried out in frustration, and I wrapped my arms around Hobs' neck, kicking them away. The Merrow pushed the boat further from us, their slick bodies sliding past. I tried to ignore their slimy coldness. Hobs held me closer, my dark hair wrapped around his neck.

  "Why?" the Merrow asked Hobs. "Is this for her? Or for you? Is she to be a favor for your queen?"

  "Which queen?" another asked. "Seelie or Unseelie?" They erupted into giggles, their eyes dissecting Hobs like they could force his thoughts from him.

  "What are you doing here, prince? The faery queen sent Bugul, not you."

  I was more confused than ever, but then, it could just be the Merrow trying to turn us against each other so they could devour us. It looked like they wanted to. Water dribbled from their sharpened teeth like drool.

  Babs cried above us, tears dripping down her red face, and my attention riveted to her. She shook with fear, calling out our names. Bugul rowed closer to us and she reached for me, stretching out each tiny finger so she could touch my hand. The Merrow's nasty fingers met hers instead, and I flinched as they sang out, "Which queen will you give her to, Hobany? Will you give her to . . . ?"

  "Bugul," Hobs shouted out over my cries to leave Babs alone. "Watch Babs." With a growl, Bugul jerked the girl away from the Merrow before they could dunk her back into the water. "Take her ashore!" Hobs called. "Go without us. Just go!"

  "Oh, you don't want them to hear what we have to say. Why is that, I wonder?" The Merrow looked intrigued and swam around us, ducking and diving. "You don't want her to know?" Hobs winced. Had they read his mind this time? It seemed they got it spot on. We were in their playground.

  "Bugul, just keep rowing and shut your mind off," Hobs whispered. His mouth was close enough to my ear for me to hear what I wasn't supposed to.

  "Your own mother . . . ?"

  Hobs splashed the Merrow maiden in the face and she choked on her words. He laughed a little, but sobered immediately, trying to get me to the snowy shore. "Don't look back." He practically carried me through the seaweed and up onto the bank, his legs fighting for footing through the ankle-deep water once we found land. The water maidens shouted after us, but I didn't want to hear what they had to say anymore. They used truth to deceive and turned us against each other . . . unless? Nothing they had repeated from my mind had been wrong—not entirely. It had all been based on a nugget of truth. I didn't know what to think.

  Bugul and Ba
bs had docked to the side of us. Hobs had me by the arm, and together we slipped over the slushy rocks to meet them. I pulled my ridiculous sixties skirt back to my knees—the shock of the cold air hitting me as I left the steaming water. My boots felt heavy and sodden as we retreated onto the blanket of snow against the bank, though not fast enough to miss the Merrow's next words. "She is your Leannan Sith, is she?" Hobs got red, and he mopped the wet hair from his face. The Merrow ducked their heads, pretending to simper out congratulations.

  I turned to him, my body shaking with the cold. "What's . . . that . . . that mean? Leannan Sith?"

  He hesitated, but in the end, couldn't resist sharing the joke with me. "It means faery sweetheart." His lips trembled with the cold. "I told you their truth is distorted . . . unless you're falling for me, of course." He laughed at my look of surprise, though I noticed it was slightly shaky. "Didn't think so." He pulled me closer, and I clutched his warm body, desperate to get some heat out of him. He took full advantage of it so he could cover my ears with his hands. I felt his rough fingers catch in my hair, shutting out all the background noise. He shouted back at the Merrow. He shouldn't have bothered. It was muffled, but I could still hear—I just couldn't understand the language. The Merrow drew back in sudden surprise.

  I fought his hands away from my ears. "What did you tell them?" I demanded.

  He let me go, peeling his wet shirt from his stomach to wring it. "I gave them something they couldn't twist. The truth. They don't like it." Hobs let his dripping shirt go in defeat. It was hopelessly crushed against him. He splashed over to the boat instead and dragged it further up the bank. He gathered Babs out of it and set her on the snow, not letting go of her wet hand. He grabbed mine as well. Bugul gave him a disgusted look and pulled out of the boat. "What?" Hobs asked. "I'm out of hands. Maybe next time, best friend."

  With an expression of intense dislike, Bugul retrieved his club from the hull. Even Hobs couldn't pretend to mistake his meaning. His reluctant eyes went to me. "I should get you out of those wet clothes." My sodden sixties outfit was freezing; the murky swamp water steamed up into the chilly air. Soon, I'd be a block of ice. "I don't know, though," he said, "I kind of like your wet look. It makes your hair go black." Hobs let me go to tuck a piece of wet hair behind my ear.

  I blushed. "You just like to see me uncomfortable."

  "That's not the only reason."

  Bugul took a threatening step closer, and Hobs sighed in defeat and reached out to tap me on the head. My wet clothes sizzled and dried. The go-go boots evaporated into my old fur-trimmed ones from home. The sixties skirt grew and slid down my legs, transforming into jeans. Soon I wore a coat and a blissfully heavy sweatshirt. The unexpected comfort came as a relief. After changing Babs' clothes into dry ones with a similar tap to her head, Hobs went back to studying me. "Hmmm, I got something wrong." He touched me again, and my coat turned from white to black. "Yeah, more you. Matches your heart."

  I tore away from him, but at least I was warm—for the moment.