Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet)

by A. M. Hodgson

  “Do I need to undress?” I asked, flustered.

  Marin burst into a new fit of giggles, “Of course not!”

  I heard a splash, and I turned to face her. She was bobbing inside the dark liquid, and she reached a hand to me. “Should I be wearing a bathing suit?” I asked. I doubted this new outfit would do well in water. Marin shook her head impatiently, beckoning again.

  I crouched down, sitting at the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in. The strange water rippled over the leather of my boots, but slid off it like sand.

  From this new position, I could see that Marin had changed a little— perhaps a lot. I stared at her in fascination. Almost everything below her collar bones was hidden in the murky water, but this was still the first time I’d seen her looking truly less human. Her skin had taken on a pearly, iridescent quality. Her eyes were the same dark color of the pool. As she reached an arm out to me, I noticed the edges of her hands had delicate scales on them: pretty, pale blue, sparkling like gemstones. The hint of a turquoise tail broke the surface of the water.

  “You really are a mermaid,” I whispered.

  Marin just rolled her eyes, grabbed my hands, and pulled me in.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I was falling.

  I could breathe, and I was dry, but I was falling. The descent was slow. I couldn’t tell if it was due to the liquid around me, this strange concoction I could breathe in, or some other magic. It reminded me of Alice’s tumble down the rabbit hole. I half expected to see furniture or other oddities pass me. Instead, I could only see the distorted patterns of light passing through water, and the blackish green of the pool.

  After falling for at least a minute, I felt my feet touch solid ground. Everything was still dark, so I closed my eyes and counted as I brought myself up to stand. I opened them on the third count, when I felt the liquid surrounding me vanish. One moment I was buoyant and half floating, then suddenly gravity returned with a vengeance. My knees took the brunt of the weight, but I did not stumble.

  I was in a small clearing. A number of captivating chairs and unusual objects surrounded me in a ring. Beyond the chairs were the imposing silhouettes of dead trees. The trees themselves were bare, gnarled, and twisted within each other, creating an impassable tangle. The sky was an unsettling beige. Although it was bright, no sun, moon, or stars were visible to cause the illumination. I felt like I’d returned from Oz to Kansas— everything beyond the little circle was sepia toned. All was silent, aside from my own breaths. The quiet was eerie.

  The ground beneath my feet was the same tepid brown as the sky. Small crabby tufts of taupe grass poked up here and there, but most of it looked like it was dying. The whole place felt wrong, unnatural. I waved a hand in front of my face to remind myself that there was still color in the world.

  I felt dizzy from the fall, and a little bit sick. I badly wanted a glass of water— my mouth was parched and my stomach burned. I sucked in a few deep breaths, my eyes wide as I took in my surroundings. The chairs were each a dramatically different shape and style. My gaze wandered, not sure what to look at first. Everything seemed surreal, impossible.

  A soft movement nearby caught my attention, and I shifted my focus. Marin was floating in what looked like a pillar of water. The liquid surrounded an empty coral throne that was decorated with pearls, seashells, and starfish. She bobbed next to it. I stepped forward, and she smiled cheerfully at me, waving.

  For the first time, I saw her clearly in her natural form.

  From the waist up, she looked almost like she always had, with a few key differences: her eyes were crystal blue, matching the subtle coloring of the water around her. Her skin was lighter than before, shimmering softly like a pearl. Tiny, pale, and delicate scales sporadically grazed the tops of her shoulders, the edge of her palm, her temples. They shined like glitter. Just below her collar bones I could see soft slits— gills— opening and closing slowly as she floated inside the pillar. Her scales were sparse from the waist up, but they covered most of the surface of her breasts, creating a sharp V. They scattered down her midriff, becoming a solid block of turquoise at her waist and ending in a beautiful tail. The slight motion of the tail was mesmerizing— it constantly caught the strange light and shined with little flashes of hot pink, purple, and green. Her full height must have been around nine feet.

  I was transfixed, staring at the water around her. It was confined, but somehow it moved in a slight ripple. I took another step forward, reaching to touch it. It was wet, and permeable, but remained intact. I pulled away quickly, shaking the water off my hand, wiping it on my pants.

  Marin laughed silently watching me, a few bubbles escaping her mouth. She nodded, gesturing past me.

  I turned. One of the seats was obviously meant for a siren. A tall throne with a wide back, entirely made of opal, exactly like the ring I’d inherited. I walked to the chair and brushed a hand across the cool, smooth surface, sinking into it. I bit my lip and glanced at Marin again, wondering whether taking the seat had been appropriate.

  She nodded her approval. It was a relief. I relaxed into the chair.

  Blinking, I collected myself, taking the moment to study the thrones.

  They were arranged like a clock-face, twelve total, and separated evenly by a good ten feet on each side. If I was seated at the six o’clock position, the coral throne beside Marin was eleven.

  Some of the chairs were complete nonsense— the one to my immediate left was little more than a stump with two deep ruts in it. Others were more typical. Directly ahead of me was a wicker throne with white flowers poking out of it. It looked like it was rooted and growing from the earth itself. Flanking Marin’s other side was a massive sofa made of black onyx. I surveyed the circle slowly, unsure of some of them— one appeared to be nothing but branches, another a square pit lined with golden bricks and piled with a stack of wood like a pyre. I wondered what its purpose could possibly be, but jumped when a voice to my right said, “Finding your place, my dear?”

  I turned my attention to the sound, startling. The chair to my immediate right was occupied by a man. It was a simple high-backed Victorian seat with red velvet upholstery. A table in a similar style was propped next to it, but neither looked remarkable. What surprised me was that the whole thing appeared to be cloaked in night, as if a small section of the circle was impervious to the light.

  The man who’d addressed me was so pale his skin was practically translucent. His golden hair was cut short and gelled into a trendy style. He wore a fashionable suit with white pinstripes and silver cuff links. It looked like he would’ve fit in at a night club. In one hand, he held a wine glass sloshing with a crimson liquid. As he noticed me eyeing him, he held it up as if offering a toast, cracking a grin. I recoiled.

  He had fangs. I was staring at a vampire.

  The darkness around him made a sudden grim sense, and I tried hard to not think of what was in that wine glass.

  Noticing my reaction, he laughed, “You really are new to all this, aren’t you? How quaint.”

  My face prickled, embarrassed. I turned from him.

  More of the chairs were filling, and I could see that Marin’s father had joined her to sit in the coral throne. My friend looked incredibly uncomfortable next to him. I couldn’t blame her after what I saw of their relationship.

  Occupying the shiny black sofa next to the mermaids was a traditional Japanese couple wearing kimonos. Somewhere to my left I could make out a nearly transparent woman, but only when I wasn’t looking directly at her. On my right, a delicate, angular, alien looking fairy balanced on a vine perch with two attendants. Ahead, a squat dwarf with a thick blond beard sat on a square throne. The pyre next to him kindled to life, and a man whose body wisped and wavered like smoke stood in the midst of the flames. He looked professional and Middle Eastern in a black suit and tie.

  I smelled the person next to me before I saw him. It was the same bouquet of being on a farm— cut grass, horses. Standing in the ru
ts of the stump was a huge centaur with dark ebony skin and long silky black hair. He had an ugly, scarred up face and rippling muscles on both his horse and human halves. He glowered at me. I shrank back, wondering if I’d been rude.

  I snapped my gaze forward, back to the strange growing throne, in time to see three individuals fade into view. The one on the throne was so beautiful that she took my breath away. She had flaxen hair that was extremely long and curled at the ends, large eyes that were a phenomenal indigo with splashes of yellow, and a rim of long eyelashes. Her face was angular, and drawn so that every feature appeared longer than natural— the effect was attractive, however, and made her look graceful. She wore a one-shouldered robe of white silk with a line of violets trailing across the bodice like a sash. A large iris punctuated the very top. Her ears were the feature I noticed almost immediately— long as everything else, but ending in delicate points.

  An elf.

  Flanking her were two elven men, dressed identically and standing stoic, staring forward. They wore green shirts that rippled in an unusual way as they moved, and soft-looking brown pants. Aside from their clothing and postures, they were as different as night and day.

  One was tall and muscular, with dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders. It was tied half-up, and his features were so long that they looked almost ugly. His eyes were the same flat beige of the forest around us, and he was practically scowling. He was armed with a long sword strapped to his back by a band of brown leather. His arms folded across his chest menacingly.

  The other elf kept a formal expression on his face, but bounced on his heels almost imperceptibly. He seemed antsy. His eyes were large, a beautiful green with flecks of brown. He was more slender than the other elf, more graceful, and looked wiry and strong. His face was softer than either of his companions’, his mouth thin. His hair was cut short and uneven, as though he’d hastily done the job himself, yet it was still appealing, intentionally messy. It was a shocking true silver color— as gleaming as a coin. If his face had looked older than twenty, the color would have aged him. As it was, he looked impossible— but attractive. His skin was darker than the other two elves’, a deep tan that reminded me of a tourist lounging on the beach. Near his collarbone was a necklace that appeared to be made of twisting branches. It draped across his neckline in a square shape, a few brilliant green leaves poking from it. His eyes kept flickering over to me, then back to the other elves.

  “Shall we begin?” the elf woman initiated. I glanced around the ring of chairs quickly. While most were occupied, two were decidedly not— a large white seat carved of marble with a back that looked like folded wings, and another chair directly across from it, made of a jagged black material. The other council members did not acknowledge the empty seats. I swallowed thickly and looked forward, trying to pay attention.

  Marin’s father spoke, looking bored, “We’re here, as you all know, to discuss something that concerns us all. The reappearance of a siren.”

  “If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it,” said the dwarf. His voice had a thick accent that sounded eastern European. It was deeper than I would’ve thought, given his small stature.

  “There’s a reason they were wiped out,” said the centaur next to me. “It was the world’s way of purging something that wasn’t balanced. It happens every so often. The sirens were afforded too much power when they were numbered, and when they died it was a relief. I say we kill her.”

  I instantly disliked my horsey neighbor. “You’re not going to kill me! Half of you have alliances with me!” It was a bluff, but Marin had implied that sirens were good negotiators.

  The centaur snorted and curled his lip at me, but didn’t say anything more. I’d struck my mark.

  “Well,” said the Japanese man, “we must decide to do something with her.” He turned to the tiny girl next to him, “Kaida?”

  She stared down at her hands and spoke so softly, at first I thought it was too low to hear her clearly. Then I realized that even if her volume adjusted, I couldn’t have understood— she was speaking what I guessed was Japanese. I wondered if the man was her translator, especially when he turned back to us and said, “She says the prudent thing is to ask the girl what she wants.”

  There were a few sighs. Most of the people didn’t seem to have an opinion. The bulk wore bored expressions, like they didn’t want to be here. The smoke-man in the fire pit had a blasé look on his face, the faeries had been silent so far, and the ghost woman didn’t show any emotion whatsoever.

  The vampire, however, looked as though he was enjoying this… albeit as a form of entertainment. I hoped he was getting a good show. It occurred to me that if it was daytime in his usual location, this interaction might be a special treat.

  “Well,” said the elf woman after a few moments, “what do you want?”

  I considered my words carefully. “I want to learn more about sirens.” It seemed the safest answer I could give. It was what I wanted, but provided no explanation as to why. The fewer who knew about the incident with Susan and Rick, the better.

  “That seems reasonable,” Marin’s father said.

  “And what medium should we take to help her learn? What will we do to aid her? Do we even want to aid her?” The ghost woman spoke! The voice was strange, breathy. It sounded like words formed from a breeze whistling through the trees. I shivered.

  “She should have an education, at least,” the elf said, “and of course a proper guardian. There are no sirens, but we can do our best to find someone at least willing.”

  King Dorian leaned forward in his chair, “For now, I suggest she approach Aldan. He lives close enough to our home in Whitecrest. While he is a keeper, he is on unusually good terms with the council.” A few of the council members nodded their approval. “This will be a decent enough basic education. I’ll see to it that Marin keeps her at hand until we find her a suitable guardian.” He paused. “Someone must be willing to take her in.”

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Somehow, even in a land of magic, I was being put in the foster system again. My stomach ached dully as I considered being shuttled from house to house, this time with magical families. I blanched, picturing the vampire to my right taking me in.

  The elf queen bowed slightly toward Marin’s father. “I have one other suggestion for consideration,” she said with authority.

  Marin’s father raised an eyebrow, “I am listening, Lady Amaranthe.”

  She gestured at me, “This is an endangered species, for all intents and purposes.” I disliked the elf woman. She treated me like I was an object, not a person. I scowled, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “That falls in our jurisdiction, Dorian. Though she is sapient, I feel it is my responsibility as a guardian of life to provide her further protection.” She waved her left hand, and the silver-haired elf stepped forward. “This is Glenn,” she announced, “a member of my Amaranth Guard. I request formally that he act as this young siren’s protector for the time being, perhaps indefinitely.”

  “Now wait just a minute—” I started to protest. The idea of being babysat bothered me immensely. I was sixteen for crying out loud! This whole thing was turning into a disaster, spinning completely beyond my control. A new foster system, a tutor, and now a bodyguard?!

  “Agreed,” said the merman, cutting me off. I glared at him.

  Glenn placed one fist across his chest. Bowing his head, he mumbled, “My Lady.”

  Before I could gather my thoughts, he was already crossing the little circular clearing to stand beside my throne dutifully. I had no idea what he thought of this change of assignments, because his face remained stony throughout the entire ordeal.

  “It’s settled then,” Lady Amaranthe said. “So let us adjourn.”

  With that, everyone promptly vanished. I had the sensation of being picked up and tossed by a giant… or at least what I’d imagine that would feel like. For all I knew, that could’ve been exactly what happened
. The change in equilibrium caused me to pass out. My last thought before being claimed by unconsciousness was that I didn’t do very well holding my own in this council.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Glenn

  I awoke groggily in the room housing the round pool. I must’ve been out for a while, because the sun was starting to dip into the night. Marin sat beside me, completely dry and looking human again.

  “I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, smiling, “I’ve been dying to talk to you.”

  I moaned. I’d never even sipped alcohol in my life, but this is what I imagined a hangover must feel like. My mouth was parched, my head pounded, and my vision swam.

  She handed me a little cordial flute that contained a pale blue liquid. “Go on,” she urged.

  I eyed it suspiciously, but drank it down. At this point, I was committed enough. I may as well trust her completely. It was foul tasting, bitter, but I felt an instant relief. The ache and fog in my head lifted and the dryness of my mouth eased. I was thirsty. I noticed two large bottles of water on the little table next to me. Without saying anything, I twisted the cap off one and began to drink it greedily.

  After a few gulps, I asked, “Why do I feel so terrible?”

  Marin’s response was gentle, “You’re not made for this kind of gateway. Takes a lot out of you.”

  I groaned and set the half-empty bottle back on the table. The water helped a lot.

  “What did you give me?”

  “Just an herbal mixture. A couple of rare seaweeds, kava kava herb, lavender, a little licorice root… not the best tasting thing, but it packs a punch. Helps to diffuse any residual magic.”

  “Thank you.” I sighed. Details of the council meeting were floating in my head. In the end, I had a tutor, this Aldan, a guardian would be assigned to me— something that had been oh-too-familiar in the foster system— and a new bodyguard just to make sure I survived it all. “Ugh,” I complained, “I’m so bad at this. I can’t believe I let them decide everything.”