“They landed on an island far to the south,” Ydri continued. “As far as I know, they’re thriving, though I don’t believe they’ve made ships large enough to travel to you yet. The weather is warmer there, and they mostly survive on fish and coconuts.”
“That’s incredible,” said Sarai, grinning. “That’s–I can’t wait to tell my father–” Her face fell. “I can’t tell people, can I?”
Ydri shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “They would want to know how you knew.”
Sarai sighed. “They wouldn’t believe me anyway if I told them. They’d think I’d gone sea-mad, spouting theories with no proof. I’m just glad they’re all right,” she said. “I used to have nightmares that their ships were sitting somewhere underwater, full of bodies.” She shuddered. “And it’s not as if their relatives are still missing them, I guess. Anyone on land who knew them died centuries ago.” She settled back in the sand. “So the rest of the ships made it, of course, since I’m here.”
Nodding, Ydri picked up the thread of her story once again. “They did, eventually. But they nearly encountered a kraken, which would have destroyed their whole fleet. My uncle wanted to see what they would do, so convinced the beast to try elsewhere for its dinner.” Her eyes were closed as she remembered. She smiled slightly. “I won many bets when your ancestors landed: most of our people did not believe any of them would make it alive.”
“I’m glad you were right, then, for my sake.”
“That’s when I began my study,” said Ydri. “My family had been in the field for many years, studying you from afar, trading for objects and information with our people across the ocean, but once I saw them up close, listened to them talk, learned their language—your language—I was intrigued.” She smiled crookedly. “I don’t get along with many of my own people, you see. Studying yours is less lonely, somehow, than studying my own race.”
“So all the different towns of your people do this? Study us, abduct us?”
“Oh, no,” Ydri replied. “Only a few have specialists like me. And as long as we never take the same person twice, the spell holds to keep it from their mind and keep our secrets safe.”
“So last time…” said Sarai quietly, “last time I was here, did you see me?”
Ydri turned toward her, tentacles floating gently in the current running through the stacks of the library. “I did not,” she said. “You probably weren’t even here, exactly. It’s more likely you were in a different kingdom, especially if you were farther from your shores. We rule only the shallows of this region, recently taken from a neighbor. Farther south, though, we control much of the deeps.” She looked pensive. “I wish I had met you the first time, though.”
Sarai smiled, pleased. “You do?”
“You’re a very interesting subject, Sarai,” said Ydri, dark eyes earnest. “I’ve enjoyed these few days more than any in a long time, I must admit.”
“Weirdly enough, me too,” Sarai replied, her belly warm with the praise. “I didn’t think being kidnapped and studied would be this much fun, but it has been. I wish I had more of a chance to turn the tables, though.”
“You’re learning more about us than any of your kind have in hundreds of years, you know,” said Ydri.
“So you don’t usually talk to your subjects, then? Because you said you hadn’t broken the rules for me.”
Ydri smiled, tentacle brushing a drifting piece of hair back from Sarai’s face. “I haven’t crossed any real lines, no, but I’ve never felt the need to get to know a subject before. And besides, they wouldn’t remember anyway.”
“But this time I won’t forget, will I?” The gentle feel of the limb lingered on Sarai’s cheek.
“No,” said Ydri. Her eyes dropped to the sand between them. “That magic only works once. If we’d known—well. I didn’t know.” Her voice deepened with some strong emotion she held back. “Which is why we are being so strict about what you may see. And I trust you, Sarai. I trust you will not endanger us.” Her voice turned businesslike, and she pulled back, tucking the tentacle against her body and looking around at the long shadows around them. “Now. You must get some rest. We have another busy day ahead.”
Sarai sighed, trying not to let her frustration and disappointment show on her face. They’d been getting somewhere, finally. She liked Ydri, liked her a lot; she was completely different from anyone Sarai had known at home or at sea. She was brilliant, for one thing, her mind moving faster than Sarai could follow, and she knew so much. And the way she moved through the water, well, Sarai could only dream of being that graceful. She lay on the sand a moment longer, but then let Ydri ushered her outside.
Ydri was just as careful on the trip back, dodging them around the edges of buildings on the way to the lab. Sarai only caught glimpses of other merfolk, their tails as they disappeared around corners or their waving hair in the distance, but she didn’t try to stop to stare. Ydri’s tentacle was warm around her wrist, curling loosely and ushering her forward. It released Sarai too soon, tugging her inside and into the small room she’d stayed in the night before. She lay back on the sand, feeling it warm and dry as Ydri cast an air bubble around her.
THE MORNING CAME with a dim, watery light filtering through the small room’s window, and Sarai stretched with her eyes closed, twisting out the kinks from her back left over from another night on sand and leaves. Although not particularly comfortable, she’d been tired enough the night before from the trials Ydri had run and from the excitement of the library to fall asleep quickly. As she stirred, Ydri turned from where she sat still taking notes in a bound book and smiled at her. “Good morning. Would you like some food?” She gestured to a covered bowl and Sarai pulled it to her, grimacing at the ship’s rations inside. She was getting tired of the stale, soggy things, exactly the way they would have been on a ship, but as far as she could tell, Ydri ate mostly raw fish and kelp. Sarai wasn’t quite sick enough of rations yet to try the alternative. She’d certainly had worse ones on the Blessed Angeline, and she was hungry. Idly, she wondered if she could make a fire in the air pocket Ydri cast at night to roast some fish, but where would the smoke go?
“I have something I’d like to show you,” said Ydri as she took the empty bowl back from Sarai. “Every time we meet one of your people, I try to have them identify some of my artifacts. I typically bring the objects in here, to my subjects, but—” she smiled suddenly at Sarai, and Sarai was struck by the fondness obvious in the expression. “You’re a special case.”
A small, nearly invisible door she’d not noticed before in a crevice of the room led to a long tunnel of stone. Sarai followed Ydri down the corridor, trying to fight the panic of being trapped in a small space underwater with no idea how to get to the surface. It didn’t matter to her mind that she’d been breathing the water for days—the fear was instinctual. She was relieved when the tunnel eventually emptied out into a tall, tiered cavern, wider at the top than near the sand.
“You’ve collected all this?” asked Sarai, floating in the center, staring up at the walls of the cavern.
“Much of it,” answered Ydri. “My mother’s sister Adali began this, many years ago.” She pointed up with a long, straight finger. “There. That was her treasure when this was her home. It is far too large to take into my laboratory, so I’ve never managed to get a human to explain it to me before.” She looked at Sarai hopefully.
Sarai followed the line of her gaze up, up, up the craggy rock wall to a dark rectangle near the top. She pushed off from the sand and swam upward toward it, squinting through the hazy light drifting through the opening in the roof of the cavern.
Its face was worn and old, the hands bent, but the old clock was still ticking off the seconds, pendulum swinging in a regular beat. Sarai swam closer, feeling the ticking clock vibrating through the water every second, despite its obvious age.
“It has been here many years.” Ydri circled the clock, brushing her fingers over the edge of the wood. “The wan
ds circle the numbers twice each day, but we could never understand why.”
“It’s a clock,” said Sarai. “That’s what it does. Tells time.”
Ydri’s face lit up. “You know this machine?”
“Well, I know the type,” said Sarai. “This is much nicer than the ones I usually see, though. And I can’t believe it’s still running if it’s been here that long. Who winds it?”
“Winds it?” asked Ydri.
“It needs to be maintained,” explained Sarai. “Or else it stops working.”
“That doesn’t happen here,” Ydri replied, staring at the clock as if with new eyes.
“What, maintenance? Or needing maintenance?”
Ydri nodded. “What does it mean, to tell time?”
Sarai blinked and decided to let her get away with the evasion. “Well, how do you know what time it is? When in the day, it is, relative to sunrise and sunset.”
Ydri stared at her. “By the sun, of course.”
“Right.” Sarai backtracked. “Okay, so we can’t do that. Not very well, anyway. So we have ways of keeping track of how much time has gone by.”
Scribbling notes, Ydri nodded again. “That was one of Adali’s theories, actually. She’ll be thrilled to have confirmation. What about this?” she asked, pointing at a candelabra.
“Holds candles. Of course, you don’t have those here. Um, wax sticks to make light. With fire.”
Ydri still didn’t quite look like she understood, but moved on. “Fire. Yes. I’ve heard of fire. And this?” She gently picked up a heavy silver ring with an enormous blue stone surrounded by filigree and handed it to Sarai, her long green fingers far too slender for its width.
Sarai took it, turning it over in her hands, squinting at the words inscribed in the band. “True Love,” she read aloud. “It’s a wedding ring.” She sighed. “I wonder what happened to the finger that wore it.”
Ydri took it back carefully, returning it to its silk pillow. “I’m sure the wearer is long dead. It’s been in my collection for many years.” She leaned over, examining it closely. “You mark your lovers with metal?”
“Well, I guess,” said Sarai. “It’s to show our devotion.”
“And to warn off competition?” Ydri grinned, showing teeth. “We have no need for such small measures. We tattoo our skin to show our bonds. The marks let all know a person’s status.”
“And there’s nothing you can take off, to stray,” Sarai said.
Ydri looked horrified. “Why would anyone pretend to be unbonded? Wouldn’t the other person feel it when they touched?”
“What do you mean?”
Ydri looked confused for a moment, and then her face cleared. “I forget how little you share each other’s thoughts. No, our bonds are tangible, if you’ve a strong psychic connection.”
“Do you have one of those bonds?” asked Sarai, trying to subtly look Ydri’s body over for the physical signs. She hoped Ydri didn’t.
Ydri shook her head, looking away. “Not yet. Our settlement is small, and I know the people far too well. None of them are right for me.”
Sarai laughed, breaking the strange tension she’d felt building between them during their conversation. “I know the feeling.” She picked up a scroll from the next shelf and unrolled it. Classifications of Kelp, read the title, and she hastily put it back, reaching for the next one.
Sarai glanced around at the sparkling silver, the solid wood, the cloth gleaming white, and realized what had been bothering her about the whole collection. Not only the clock not needing winding, but everything. Each piece was as pristine now as on land. She’d seen bits of wrecks washed up on the shore: it took almost no time at all for decay to set in. Here, all were in perfect shape, like the books in the library and the rations she’d been eating for her meals. “How do you keep this all in such good condition? I thought a silver ring like this would start tarnishing instantly in this much saltwater. Not to mention the wood and fabric that should all be long rotted. And the library! Those pages—the ones in human books, anyway—should be nothing but dust by now.”
Ydri looked uncomfortable. “I can’t tell you.”
Sarai knew exactly why, but the frustration roiling, her belly forced the question out anyway. “What do you mean, can’t tell me? That’s not really fair, you know.”
“It’s the law. I’ve told you before.”
Sarai turned to face her. “So you expect me to describe the meaning and purpose of everything you’ve hoarded from my people over who knows how long, and you can’t even tell me your cleaning technique? How is that fair?”
“I’m sorry, Sarai. Our secrets are not to be shared. I’ve told you before.”
“It’s part of your magic, right, like the breathable water?”
“Something like that, yes. Although it’s you who are enchanted to breathe, not the water’s properties.”
“Can you at least tell me a little more? I don’t want to learn the magic—well, I do, but I know that’s not possible—but I want to know more about it. For instance, do you all do magic, or is there someone whose job it is? And is it easy, or is it something you can only do once in a while?”
Ydri sighed, holding up her hands. “Yes, I did the magic in here, but we have a witch who does the more complex projects. And it isn’t easy, but with practice, it gets easier.”
Sarai grinned and opened her mouth to reply, but was halted by a noise outside.
Ydri froze, head cocked to the side, and put her finger to her lips.
“Ydri?” asked a voice, deep and rich, and Ydri’s eyes flew wide at the sound of it. “Your subject is not in its proper place.”
“Quickly, we must hide!” she hissed at Sarai, who flailed in the water, pushing herself backward. Ydri grabbed her hand, tentacles whipping, and shot them both toward the floor into a crevasse along a long, narrow tunnel. Voices followed faintly, and when the two of them emerged from the tunnel, they were waiting.
Firm arms grabbed Sarai, yanking her apart from Ydri, who tried to grab for her but was held back by her own captors.
“Ydri!” Sarai yelled. “Help me!”
“Sarai!” Ydri called, but the other merpeople dragged Sarai away, tossing her unceremoniously into her dome and shutting the door firmly behind her. She threw herself at it, tugging on the edge, but it wouldn’t open. She slid to the floor, shaking, and the door vanished.
It reappeared and slid back open a few minutes later, a tall, stern-faced mermaid staring daggers at her where she lay on the ground. “Come,” she said, standing aside. Sarai scrambled to her feet.
“What’s happening? Where’s Ydri?”
The mermaid was silent.
“Are you taking me to her?”
“You must come with me. The Council must not be kept waiting.” She waved a hand, and Sarai rose from the sand. Sarai shrieked, grabbing for the seaweed, but that didn’t work. She floated through the door as the mermaid turned and swam toward the center of the settlement. Sarai was dragged behind her, flailing—the same way she’d first been taken by Ydri, but this new merperson was much less gentle with her magic than Ydri had been with her tentacle.
“I’ll swim!” Sarai yelled. “Let me go, I’ll follow you.”
“You will be too slow.”
Sarai closed her eyes to try to fight the disorientation, but the darkness made her even more aware of the rushing water against her face. She forced herself to open them again and gasped at the sight of the huge amphitheater looming before her. The mermaid shoved her into a little box of coral, its sides peppered with holes a little larger than her head and swam away.
The room was massive, at least the size of the great hall in the palace. The walls tapered up, forming a giant bowl open to the water on top, and at one end floated seven mermaids on a wide platform. They must be the elders Ydri had mentioned, Sarai reasoned, though they didn’t look particularly old. Their bodies were as muscular as Ydri’s, their faces as unlined, and Sarai suddenly remember
ed Ydri casually mentioning the lost ships. If Ydri was over three hundred years old and still looked twenty, how old must these people be?
“I’ve brought the human,” said the mermaid, and Sarai heard a gasp from behind her. She turned and saw Ydri staring at her from a few feet away.
“Is this the being you saw in the library?” asked the mermaid in the center.
“It is,” the one farthest to the right replied.
“Ydri, you have been warned before,” said the leader. “You know the laws and the limits. You’ve been given leeway to experiment under the assumption that you will be responsible with the power you’ve been given. Obviously, you were not capable of this. What do you have to say for yourself?”
As Ydri shrank in on herself beneath the gaze of the elders, Sarai gripped the coral tightly, feeling the strange shiver of sweat prickling on her skin and then instantly being washed away.
“I wanted to learn,” said Ydri. “I wanted to know more.”
“We know everything we need to about the humans,” said the leader. “Take the subject away, Irini.”
The same mermaid as before yanked Sarai back out of the box.
“Wait!” yelled Sarai, struggling. The amphitheater vanished behind them in a swirl of bubbles and foam before she was tossed unceremoniously back into her same plain dome.
THE DOOR SLID open with a rush of bubbles and Sarai sat up from her bed of kelp. “What was that? Ydri, are you okay?”
Ydri drifted over to her, lingering listlessly by the edge of Sarai’s bed, eyes focused on the ocean floor.
“Ydri?” Sarai leaned over, trying to see the mermaid’s face. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
“They’ve taken everything,” she said, voice dull. “All my research, all my artifacts. They’re gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“Confiscated. Destroyed. I’ve been deemed too dangerous. Too far from established doctrines.” Her fists clenched against the seaweed beneath her. “My program has been shut down completely. Our study charter has been taken to be traded to another kingdom. They say they granted me a special privilege when they let me keep you, and I broke their trust. And they are right. I was far too open. I’ve compromised us all with my obsession.”
Surface Tension Page 6
