by C. S. Moore
He suppressed a grin. “Can you help him?”
If I had asked the question it would have come out laced with skepticism, but his voice was saturated in so much hope it tugged at my heart.
“Yes, I believe that I can—”
“Really?” Jaron interrupted, stepping forward.
“Yes, really. Now get over here and let me get a look at you,” Cala said. He walked to the center of his room, skirting his brother, and stood beside her. She put her hand on his chin and pushed it left and right, fixing him with an intense gaze. “Did a number on you too, didn’t they? Willingly it looks like…” She turned to Sylvia. “I’ve got just the thing for these two, you’ll have to help me with the sick one—it may take a while to get him back. Few weeks even.”
Sylvia nodded. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
“Good news.” She walked to an ornate cupboard at the back wall and pulled open a drawer, after digging through it she held up a small mason jar filled with what looked like a bright green paste. She handed it to Sylvia. “You know how to use this already.”
Sylvia nodded. “Are you sure this is all there is to it? I could have made this at home.”
“Simple things were all they needed to fool this poor clueless boy.” She gestured to Jaron. “They’ve been keeping Owen stably under for a long time. They must have given him just enough to stay alive, but not enough to get better.”
“He’s not clueless!” I said.
“Maybe not as much as you, but clueless none-the-less,” Cala said offhand as she pulled ropes of varying size out of her cupboard.
My mouth fell open. I wasn’t used to being talked to like that.
“Don’t be upset, dear, it’s not an observation of intellect on either of your parts, I assure you. It’s more of a personal boast if anything, as I am the reason that you are clueless. Seems that I can’t keep you that way any longer.” Her stubby arm shot into the air, clenching a few bundles of dried herbs. “Here they are, I was about to go and get some fresh sage and rosemary out of the kitchen walk-in… but dried is so much better.” She took a length of rope and laid it across the table then lit the sage on fire with a match and threw it into a stone bowl. As the aromatic smoke wound up into the air, she began tying knots in the rope, whispering while her short fingers worked.
I looked quizzically at Sylvia. She mouthed the words, “It’s okay, ” and I turned back to watching Cala.
“All right,” she said as she pulled the last knot tight. “You.” She tossed the rope to Jaron. “Untie those.”
“Why,” he asked, raising an eyebrow and assessing her.
“Because you allowed them to bind you, now you must unbind yourself. Now untie every knot and think of the things that you have been sworn against speaking of.” She turned to face me. “And you, I’m so proud of the work that I have done on you, child. But I did tell them that it might not be in your best interest.”
I turned to my aunt and uncle. “What is she talking about?”
“We’ll tell you everything, just do what she asks,” Dylan whispered, sounding tired.
“Please, Mari,” Sylvia added.
Cala stood and left the room. She was only gone a moment and returned carrying a silver goblet that was oddly familiar, though I was sure I’d never seen a cup like it. It had been masterfully molded to look like a seashell and appeared to be an antique. She handed it to me; gold frothy liquid swirled inside of it.
“One moment, dearie,” Cala said, going back to her cupboard and grabbing the sprig of rosemary. She struck a match and lit the rosemary aflame, she let it burn for a few seconds and stuck it in the cup, where it sizzled as the fire was put out. “Drink up.”
I glanced at Jaron. He met my eyes and nodded toward where Sylvia and Dylan sat, and I understood. If I trusted them, I should drink. If I didn’t, we should get the hell out of there. I looked at my guardians and tipped the cup to my lips. They had made my whole life happy. If I couldn’t trust them, I couldn’t trust anyone. The cup was empty when I handed it back to Cala.
“Jaron, Mari, listen. Both of you have had some nasty jinxes lifted. You are going to feel tired, maybe even exhausted, that’s normal. But you are both cleansed—”
“What about my brother?” Jaron asked, still playing with the untied rope in his hands.
“Sylvia will be giving him medication, and, in time, he will be perfectly healthy—now if that is all, I’ll ask you to leave. Although my grounds are private, I cannot say that you came here unseen and word spreads faster down here, as you know.” She eyed Sylvia.
“Yes, we should hurry. I don’t want anyone waiting to meet us.”
It felt like someone had put mascara made of steel on my lashes, and I could barely keep my heavy eyelids open. Sleep was settling on me like a warm blanket, and I was having a hard time understanding what they were talking about.
“Good grief, they’re both falling asleep,” Sylvia said. “Thank you, Cala.”
“Of course. Keep her safe. She is the only hope any of you… any of us have.”
Dylan groaned under the weight of Owen as he picked him up. On the way out of the room, he kicked Jaron in the leg, waking him.
“Huh?” Jaron mumbled before groggily standing up and following the two men.
“Come on, dear,” Sylvia said tenderly. She lifted me up and let me lean on her as we walked to the car. The cool night air on my face made me a little more alert, and I realized she was still talking, so I tried to pay attention. “Whatever you think after tonight, we love you… and always have.”
She settled me into the back seat with the other two unconscious people, and I fell asleep as soon as my butt hit the seat.
17
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the light burned them so badly I clamped them shut again.
“Mari?” Sylvia whispered.
I kept my eyes closed and replayed the previous day in my mind. So much had happened in so little amount of time. The day before had been the best day of my life and the worst day at the same time. Jaron and I had connected so deeply and kissed so passionately, but even that couldn’t overshadow the realization that my aunt and uncle had been lying to me my entire life. They might not have admitted it in so many words, but after what Cala had said, I knew.
“Maribel?”
I opened my eyes and again blinked back the sunlight that seemed too bright.
“Light hurting your eyes?” she asked.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
She sighed and sat at the foot of my bed. “Because I remember it hurt my eyes at first too. You’ll get adjusted and it will be normal for it to seem so bright.”
I shook my head. “Are you going to start telling me what’s going on? I just want you to be honest with me.”
She patted my leg. “Let’s go downstairs and have a talk.”
I followed her downstairs where Jaron and Dylan were waiting for us in the living room. “Where’s Owen?”
“In the guest house, he is just as stable as he was at the hospital,” Dylan replied. “Have a seat. You can ask anything you want.”
I sat down next to Jaron and gathered my thoughts. There were too many questions running through my mind. For some reason my nightmare and Sylvia’s reaction to it seemed like the start of all of this craziness. “Okay, a few weeks ago I had a nightmare and you freaked out.” I looked at Sylvia. “You said that my dreams were important. Why?”
“When you were four years old, we lived in another town, closer to the coast. We had raised you there for three years, we were comfortable and felt safer than we should have, we weren’t as vigilant as we should have been.” She paused. “You woke up one night screaming hysterically. It was so hard to see you that upset. Try as we could to calm you, you wouldn’t stop telling us that men were coming to hurt us… you were never a nervous child and I just knew you were right. We left the house just in time and were on the run for months before Dylan was sure that they were off our trai
l. You saved us.”
“So you think that I predicted them coming with my dreams?” I asked skeptically.
“I know you did.”
I sighed. This wasn’t getting me anywhere. “Why did you have Cala mess with my head?”
Dylan spoke. “We thought it would be safer for you and easier to hide you if you were blind to the things of our world and they were blind to you.”
“Our world? Well, what do you think is out there that you need me to be blinded to? I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Maribel,” Jaron whispered. “You know about my parents. All your aunt and uncle were trying to do was protect you from that fate. These people want you, and they’ll do anything to get their hands on you.”
“What makes you think that?” I asked.
“The favor I owed them, the thing that I agreed to do if they saved Owen… was bring them you.”
My stomach dropped and it felt like icey water was being poured on my chest. “What?”
“They couldn’t get to you so they used me. They said that you could see them coming somehow. I was the answer to that. I didn’t want to do any of it. I tried to pretend to go along with their plan—”
“This whole time, you’ve been acting… so I would let you take me to those men, the ones who might have murdered your parents?” I stood up slowly.
He stepped in front of me. “No, Mari. It’s not like that… I had to do what they told me for Owen’s sake.”
I pushed him out of my way and he grabbed my arm. “No, you don’t get to touch me!” I yelled. He allowed me to slide my wrist out of his grasp. I turned my stinging eyes to him. “You were right… people really are capable of anything.” He looked like I had slapped him. Tears burned behind my glare, and I willed them not to spill over and show how hurt I really was. I couldn’t stand him acting like it was me who had hurt him, so I turned and ran out of the room.
“But, I love you. Maribel, I love you!” he shouted at my back.
His words cut through me and only made me feel worse. I loved him too, or at least the person he had pretended to be. When I reached my room, the tears finally made their escape and fell down my face.
Sylvia stepped in without knocking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“He's the only boy I’ve ever felt anything for, and none of it was real.” I almost choked on the words. Jaron had only been pretending.
“Listen, Mari. We are different than other people… and we’re only attracted to our own kind. There is nothing wrong with you, and there may not be anything particularly special about Jaron.”
I laughed. Saying there was nothing special about Jaron was like saying there was no water in the ocean. He was all I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.
“No, listen to me. He’s just the first… I think we should head to the studio. I have something to show you.”
“I don’t care about art right now,” I said, putting my head in my hands.
“You’ll care about this—I stayed up late and…” She took a deep breath. “Finished the painting of your mother.”
I jumped out of bed in one fluid movement. “Really?” I ran for the door.
“Mari, wait!” Sylvia called.
It was too late. I was taking the steps to the studio three at a time. I had gone my entire life wishing to see my mother’s face, and now I was moments away. I stood outside the door, trying to catch my breath and slow my pulse.
I heard Sylvia ascending the stairs below me. “Hold on, Mari.”
The temptation was too great and I couldn’t wait any longer, I wanted to see my mom. Maybe if I could just see her face the insanity of the last few days would make sense, maybe I’d be able to see myself in her, and just maybe seeing her face would ease the ache in my chest that Jaron had created. I flung the door open and was face to face with a large canvas depicting my mother. She had long chocolate brown hair flowing well past her waist. I smiled—she must have had the same quirk that I had. Her face was just as heart-shaped as mine, but her eyes where a violet blue. She was much more beautiful than any person I’d ever seen, but I didn’t get to linger on her features for long—too distracted by the shimmering deep coral pink tail attached to her. My stomach did a flip.
The floor creaked as Sylvia walked in behind me.
“What is this?” I asked, spinning around to face her. I knew it was supposed to be the picture of my mother, there were no others there. Not that it would have mattered. I could have picked it out in an exhibition with a hundred paintings. This was the face I pictured when I tried to remember my mom. All these years I'd thought I was just creating the most angelic face I could imagine and pretending it was her. But it really was.
“Is this a joke to you?” I yelled. “You know how much this meant to me, how could you paint that?”
“Mari, I have a lot to tell you… and this is as good a starting point as any.”
“Sylvia,” I grumbled, wanting to put my head in my hands, I resisted the urge so I could continue to look at my mother. She was perched on a rock, a calm sea stretched out behind her.
“I guess the first thing you should do is forget everything you think you know, because the world that you grew up in is a blind one—”
Nausea turned my stomach and I put my head between my legs. When would things make sense again? I hadn’t woken up from my insanely long dream, that had to be it.
“Please listen to me! You wanted answers and I’m trying to give them to you. How do you explain your little water trick last night if the laws of the humans are the only laws?”
“The humans?” I looked at the painting. “So now we aren’t humans. I’m guessing you want me to believe that we’re—”
“Mermaids? Yes, and if you think about it, it will make sense.”
“I very seriously doubt that,” I said. Just because I had dreamed of the ocean since I was a child didn’t mean I was some mystical being… and I hadn’t yet wrapped my head around the fact that I was able to move and control water. How was I supposed to believe this?
“Please, just let me tell you everything,” she pled.
I sighed and sat on the chaise.
She pulled her hand through her hair nervously. “I don’t know where to start…” Sylvia began pacing. “Okay, throughout history there are stories of magical creatures, they are thought to be nothing more than that, stories to entertain. But they are real. Unicorns, dragons, and mermaids were always the most magical of all… now it’s only us left. The humans conquered the land and the skies, but they have yet to truly conquer the sea. Of course we have our own predators to worry about. ”
Why was I wasting my time with this? “That can’t be possible. They aren’t real, Sylvia, I am not a mermaid!”
Her beautiful face fell into a frown. “You are, and so am I…” She paused. “Think of any number,” she said.
“This is ridiculous, I don’t want to—”
“You control water, I do this. We all have something special. Now guess a number.” She folded her thin arms across her chest and stared at me.
I rolled my eyes but obliged. I was always partial to the number seven.
“Seven,” Sylvia said as soon as I thought it.
I eyed her back steadily. She knew that was one of my lucky numbers. I’d have to do better than that… three thousand two hundred and twelve.
“Three thousand two hundred and twelve.” Sylvia smiled when my mouth fell open. “I can read minds, I’m much better at it in the ocean. I have to concentrate very hard when I’m on land.” I searched for some way that she could be tricking me, but couldn’t find a way… or a reason that she’d want to. “That’s how I have my lie detecting abilities.”
I couldn’t deny that. “But, if these things ever existed there would be bones, a fossil record… something.”
“Bones of magical creatures are too valuable to be hanging in any museum. Anything found would be sold to the highest bidder. We have been hunted to near extinctio
n—”
“By whom?” I asked.
“The sirens and the humans have both been harvesting us for centuries.”
When she said the word ‘harvest’, Jaron’s story flashed through my mind. “Do they take our blood?” I whispered.
“Yes, it’s very valuable. They say drinking it is like sipping from the fountain of youth.” She crossed the room and sat next to me. “Don’t worry, we will protect you from them. That will never happen to you.”
I didn’t understand the odd inflection in her voice for a moment, and then it dawned on me. Tears burned a trail down my face and I couldn’t hold back a sob. “Is that how my parents were killed?” I cried, picturing my own mother hanging upside down being drained of blood.
Sylvia held her breath and wiped a tear from my cheek. “Your mother was more than a mermaid, she was a witch. It was her enchantments that kept us safe and protected. When she was murdered, all of the enchantments fell and the sirens came pouring into the city. She was the last witch in our kingdom. They were hunted most rigorously of all. Many of our kind fled to land… we actually stand a chance against the human hunters. The day she died was the saddest day of my life. I lost my best friend and my home all at once.”
“So you’re saying that’s why we’re here?”
“You believe me?” she asked.
“I don’t know… it’s a hard thing to believe. But there has to be an explanation for what Jaron and I can do—but mermaids? It’s just so unreal.”
“But, it is what we are. We can be done with this dry terrible place and return home just as soon as your father sends word,” she said, smiling at me.
“My father?”
“Oh!” She bit her lip. “Yes, he’s the one who sent us here. He gave you to us to protect until it was safe for you to return to the waters.”
“My dad is alive and he sent me away? He never tried to call, or visit… you told me he was dead!” I screamed, jumping to my feet. “Why would you do that?”
Sylvia’s eyes filled with tears. “He asked us to—”
“So what? That didn’t mean that you had to do it!” I spun around and ran from the room, moving as quickly as I could away from everything that she'd just told me. The whole house felt suffocating, so I ran outside and looked up at my home, which appeared distorted and blurry with tears, I had no desire to go back.
