Because You Love To Hate Me

by Ameriie

  He kissed me. His lips were gentle, but the kiss was roughened by the salt on my mouth.

  He pulled away with a sigh. “You are the sea,” he murmured.

  “I love you,” I murmured back.

  Fear quickly tightened around my chest and I wished that I could pull the words back into my mouth, but Samuel’s grin widened.

  He took my hands into his. “My lovely Nerit, I must go away.”

  The dread that struck me at these words was immediate and painful. I had been too rash. I had ruined everything.

  But he continued, “But I will return on the night of the next full moon. I want to find a way for you and me to be together. Some means that will allow you to be by my side forever, so we may never again be parted. I . . . I hope this is what you want also?”

  Weak, tenuous joy trembled in my chest. “Yes,” I said. “I want this also.”

  “Then I will find a way, my darling. Will you promise to be here when I return?”

  My heart was pounding, my pulse running as hot as if I had his human blood in my veins. I nodded and did not shy away when he kissed me again.

  I returned to my cave for the first time in weeks. It was just as I had left it, all destruction and mayhem, but no longer did the sight fill me with agony. No—now there was only willful determination.

  Two weeks.

  I had two weeks before I saw Samuel again, and I knew what I would do.

  I loved him for his optimism, for his belief that he might be able to find a way for us to be together, but I knew he would never find such a way, not unless his human witches had magic like we had beneath the sea. No—if we were to be together, it would be my doing.

  I began to search for the book. Digging through the scattered bones and skulls. Shoving aside piles of lobster claws and abalone shells. Pulling curtains of kelp and seaweed away from the dark basins where hot air erupted up from the earth below.

  I found the book beneath a crush of broken bottles and sea glass, half sunken in sand. As I wiped the mud off the giant clamshell pages, it became clear that some of the spells were missing. I flipped through them hurriedly.

  Ah—the love potion. Of course.

  No matter. I no longer wanted the love of Prince Lorindel. I no longer needed to trick anyone into loving me at all.

  My heart raced as I searched for the spell that I did need. The shells clacked as I turned through them again, skimming through the book once, then twice—

  There. A spell carved into the pearlescent pages by some sorceress of ages ago. The spell that would turn my fish’s tail into a pair of human legs.

  I read through the ingredients. The skins and organs of water snakes. The spinal cord of a sea otter. Fish eyes and squid tentacles and a single black pearl. Blood given willingly from a merfolk’s chest.

  All ingredients that could be harvested easily enough.

  Then I began to read through the warnings—for where there was magic, there was danger.

  Upon drinking the elixir, it will be as if a sword were cutting through the merfolk’s stomach. Once transformed, the merfolk will maintain all manner of grace, though each step taken upon these legs will be as an abomination walks, and it will be as though daggers were being thrust into the soles of these human feet.

  Let it forthwith also be known that if a merfolk sacrifices their natural life in pursuit of a land-dweller’s love, then only through marriage may they obtain an immortal soul and a share of man’s happiness. If that human should rather choose to marry another, then at the sun’s first light following the marital vows, the merfolk will perish and become naught but foam on the crest of the ocean’s waves.

  This fate can be eluded if the merfolk chooses, instead, to take the human’s life before sun’s first light. This shall be done by plunging a dagger of carved bone into the heart of the human who once was loved. By this act, the merfolk will once more become a creature of the sea and nevermore will they be permitted to venture to the world of man.

  I read the warnings with interest, if not fear. Surely Samuel would marry me and we would be joyful together for eternity, but I did not relish the thought of feeling as though a sword were cutting through my stomach or daggers were being thrust into the soles of my human feet. Imagining it made me feel faint, but I thought of Samuel and his kiss, and resolved myself.

  After all, what was a lifetime of pain when coupled with a lifetime of bliss?

  I set aside the book of spells and began to gather my ingredients. Two weeks was a long time to wait. An eternity to wait.

  But when Samuel returned for me, I would forever leave this miserable ocean behind.

  The elixir was black as squid ink, though when it caught the light, it shone as if a sky full of stars were captured inside. I used my dagger—recovered from the ship’s wreckage—to scoop the pasty liquid into an empty snail shell and tried not to imagine it sticking to my throat as I drank. Trying not to imagine anything beyond Samuel’s arms around me.

  Clutching the shell in one fist and my knife in the other, I took one last turn around my cave. I had done little to clean it up. There was no point. I would never see it again, and even now I felt no sadness at its loss. There was nothing to miss. No one to say good-bye to.

  I flicked my tail, pushing myself toward the surface.

  The moon was drooping near the horizon when I burst out of the waves. It was as bright and round as the gem on the Sea King’s scepter, and the water around me was alive with green glowing algae. It was a perfect evening to be ashore. I swam to the beach, my stomach feeling as if I had swallowed an entire school of herring.

  Samuel wasn’t there yet, which was for the best. I didn’t want him to witness my pain as the spell undid my body and wove it back together.

  Setting the knife on a rock, I cradled the shell in both hands. I looked into the swirling, inky liquid, then down at the tail that was not as strong or graceful as some of the other merfolk’s, but that I had always thought a fine sort of tail.

  Fine or not, it was keeping me from being with Samuel.

  I tilted the shell against my lips and drank.

  No sooner had the elixir slipped down my throat than I felt a stab of pain cutting through my belly. I gasped and reached for my stomach, certain that I would find a blade buried in my flesh, but there was nothing there.

  The pain continued, searing through my guts until I was sure I was being turned inside out.

  I screamed in agony and collapsed.

  It was with much effort that I opened my eyes again. The world was bleary. Dried salt had tangled my lashes together. My heart was throbbing. My blood a chaotic rush through my ears. I gasped for air. It tasted different. Colder. Crisper.

  It was still night, but the moon had trekked halfway across the sky. Storm clouds were on the horizon, threatening to reach land within the hour. There would be no sun tomorrow, my first day as human.

  I bolted upright.

  Human.

  My jaw fell as I took in my body. Somehow, the absence of my tail was more shocking than the addition of human legs. I traced my shaking hands down my pale thighs, over the hard shins, to the toes that curled on my command, as obedient as my fins had once been.

  A cry of elation escaped me.

  I was human.

  I rolled onto my side and moved to stand, but as I put my weight onto my feet for the first time, I yelped and my legs buckled, hurtling me back to the sand.

  The pain was furious—not as horrible as when I had first tasted the elixir, but enough to leave me whimpering when I thought of standing again.

  I had to, though. For Samuel. For our future together.

  Gritting my teeth, I tried again, and this time I succeeded, locking my knees to hold my body upright. It was as if I stood on needles. I hissed, my face scrunched against tears.

  It was tolerable, I told myself.

  I would tolerate it.

  I took a step. Flinched. Stepped again.

  The pain did not lessen, but
through strength of will I kept myself moving forward. I was walking. It was painful, but it would not kill me. I could go on, and so I would.

  Soon Samuel would be here. He would embrace me and give me his arm, and what would pain be then? Nothing but an annoyance buried beneath my elation.

  With this thought, I heard him.

  I turned toward the footsteps coming down the beach. I spotted him before he spotted me and my body lightened, my heart soaring on the feathers of a white-winged tern. He was just as I remembered him, moving among the driftwood with an eager gait, picking his way among the broken shells and stringy kelp.

  He looked up, beaming. “Nerit, you’re here. I—”

  He halted, his smile deadening as he realized that I was not lying on the sand, waiting for him. His expression slackened as he took in my body, all bare skin and uncertain legs.

  I had never been embarrassed by my nakedness before, but suddenly I felt vulnerable standing before him. I swallowed, believing it must be the newness of my strange body, but I could not keep from wrapping my arms around myself.

  “Samuel,” I breathed. I wanted him to grin again. I wanted him to scoop me into his arms and laugh with glee at my unexpected transformation.

  He did none of those things. He seemed stunned and, after a long moment, horrified.

  “What did you do?” he asked—nay, demanded.

  My smile became strained. “I . . . I’ve made it possible,” I said, daring a painful step forward. “I’ve made it so we can be together, like we wanted. After this night, we will never have to be parted, just like you said.”

  “No. This can’t be.” He stepped back even as I came nearer. His hands went to his head, burying his fingers in his hair until it stuck out at all angles. “No, no, no.”

  “Samuel, what—”

  A shrill whistle sent a cascade of ice down my spine, followed by a male voice that I didn’t recognize.

  “She is a beauty, I’ll afford you that.”

  I looked up and spotted a pair of men standing on the nearest dune. They held an assortment of chains between them.

  The man who had spoken shook his head. “But I don’t see any fish’s tail. Where is the mermaid, Sam?”

  “She . . . this is . . . she was a mermaid, I swear.” Samuel gestured toward my body with dismay. “I don’t understand. This is some dark magic. She . . . she must be a witch! Take her as a witch!”

  I stumbled backward. “Samuel, what’s going on? Who are these men?”

  “We have a witch already,” said the second stranger. “Vladlena with the All-Seeing Third Eye.”

  “But if this girl needs a job, I think we can come up with something for her to do,” the first man said with a hideous smirk. “Fisker and Holt’s Traveling Circus is always looking for offstage talent. Will save us from having to build that saltwater tank, too.”

  He took a step closer to the edge of the dune and I noticed something that had been hidden from my sight before. A harpoon.

  I whimpered, beginning to understand that Samuel had brought these men. That he had told them about me. That he had . . . what? What had he done? “Samuel?”

  His eyes flashed. “You,” he said, snarling, “were going to make me rich. A thousand guilders they would have paid me. And now you’re . . . you’re worthless.” He threw an angry gesture toward my legs.

  “Naw,” said one of the men. “I wouldn’t say that. We’ll find a use for her. Don’t you worry.”

  I heard the telltale sounds of sand and rocks slipping down the embankment, but before the men could reach me, I snatched my forgotten knife from the ground and fled into the sea.

  I swam as hard as I could until my limbs burned and I was cursing my pathetic human legs. I swam until I could no longer see the shore. I didn’t know if Samuel or either of the men chased after me. If they did, they must have given up once the storm arrived. I was soon caught up in thrashing water and torrential rain, and I became sure that I was dying. I welcomed death, even, sure it would be less painful than the heart that was ripped to pieces in my chest.

  I didn’t know how long I stayed bobbing among the waves, so much colder now than they had felt before. My teeth were chattering and the current battered my body. By the time it dragged me ashore, bedraggled and famished, the shreds of my heart had already begun to stitch themselves into something angry and vengeful.

  I remember little about those first days. I stole what clothes I could from the lines in a small fishing village and scavenged for mussels and urchins on the beach like nothing more dignified than a common gull. Days turned into weeks, and I grew braver, sometimes leaving my cold beach coves to wander the village alleyways. When the humans did not chase me away with sharp sticks and stones, I grew bolder still. I drifted through their markets and slipped away with carrots and cucumbers when I could.

  Weeks gave way to months.

  I learned of money and took to begging for the hard, round coins that could buy sustenance. I learned what bread was, though butter and marmalade never crossed my palate. I watched the other women and took to combing my hair and styling it off my neck as they did.

  Months gave way to years.

  I watched. I listened. I moved from village to town to city, though could never stand to be too far from the sea, for listening to the lulling hush of the waves at night was the only way I could capture any sleep.

  I took a job at a shop that sold dried herbs and medicines. I was a natural alchemist, the owner told me once, watching me grind tarragon leaves into a paste. I did everything with anger.

  I waited. I waited for my death, because I knew that someday even abhorrent Samuel would find a woman to be his wife, and on the morning after their wedding, my life would be stolen from me. I had no fear of dying, but neither did I long for it. My life was fueled by hatred, and I waited for a chance, any chance I might have to seek vengeance on the man who had betrayed my heart, who had stolen my eternity.

  Then, one afternoon, as I stood outside the shop smashing blue juniper berries with my knife handle, I saw him.

  He was with a girl—a lady with perfect yellow curls. I watched them from across the street, elbows linked, lovers’ smiles.

  Samuel turned and looked at me, directly at me, and there was not even a hint of recognition.

  My heart stilled, encrusted with every moment of agony I had endured since our last meeting.

  I set down the berries and followed them.

  I found his house. I asked questions. I learned that they were engaged and that the wedding was mere days away.

  I watched. I waited.

  I did everything with anger.

  I did not attend Samuel’s wedding, though I could envision his carefree, dimpled smile as he said the vows that should have been mine. I could envision his pretty, innocent bride. I had learned that she came from a family with some affluence, and no doubt Samuel was pleased that his charm had won him the wealth he’d longed for.

  No—I did not go to the wedding.

  Instead, I went to the home he would soon share with his wife and waited there with the reassuring weight of my dagger in my fist, the spell book’s warnings echoing in my head.

  It was late when the bride and bridegroom finally retired to the bedchamber, full of boisterous laughter from too much wine. It was not long before their cheer died down into even, drowsy breathing.

  I emerged from my hiding space and went to stand over the bed.

  The girl was pretty enough, captured in the light that filtered through their lace curtains, but I had eyes only for her groom.

  Samuel. How had I ever thought him beautiful?

  My grip tightened on the dagger’s handle. The bone seemed warm, almost alive in my hand.

  I considered waking Samuel so he might know my face one last time. So he might understand it was I who was robbing him of his joy, as he had once robbed me of mine. I wanted him to see my eyes and to know it was his own heartless betrayal that had murdered him. But I worried that
he might overpower me if he was awake, even in his drunken stupor, and I would not let anything keep me from taking his life this night.

  I had waited far too long.

  I anchored one leg against the mattress and raised the knife. I watched Samuel’s chest rise with a breath and sink again. Rise and sink. Rise and—

  I plunged the blade into his heart.

  His eyes snapped open. His mouth parted in a silent scream.

  The girl, too, awoke, but her scream was not silent. Blood was already on the sheets and on my hands, and I was smiling. No—I had started to laugh, though the sound was drowned out by the hysterical bride.

  I laughed because Samuel was looking at me. And this time I knew that he remembered.

  I abandoned my blade in his chest and ran.

  The streets were empty. I had long grown accustomed to the pain in my feet and it didn’t hinder my speed as I ran. I knew the moment Samuel died, because I collapsed there on the cobbled street and felt the pain of a sword once more cutting through my gut. This time, I refused to swoon. I swallowed my screams and kept pushing forward, crawling on my elbows, dragging my useless legs behind me until they had stitched together and melded once more into a fish’s tail. It no longer felt agile and strong, but rather like a clumsy weight tied to my body, which had to be dragged across the ground. Rocks and glass tore into my flesh. My muscles burned.

  I crawled all the way back to the ocean. The water called to me, giving me strength, and when I finally reached the surf, it welcomed me, engulfed me, beckoned me to come back home.

  Home.

  I had thought I would never return, but there was no sorrow in my heart as I started swimming toward the castle of the Sea King. I was once again a creature of the ocean, and I was going home. A smile rose on my face and I looked adoringly down at my body, re-formed.

  My eyes widened. I froze and cried out, but the sound was lost in a flurry of bubbles that raced back to the surface.

  Twice, magic had undone my body and woven my flesh back together, leaving me forever changed. I was no longer looking at the sleek, graceful tail of the merfolk, but rather the dark, oily body of a serpent.