“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.
“Humans have lost so many of the senses that form an intricate part of our society,” he replied sadly. “The ocean is a better carrier of it I guess, but it’s just as potent on land.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Blood,” he replied, “or rather the spilling of innocent blood. It has a very specific smell, one that ignites a burning desire for revenge in every Oceanid that comes into contact with it and, like I said, water is an excellent carrier.”
I was gaping at him, my jaw hanging open stupidly.
He let out a short hard laugh when he saw my expression and I snapped my mouth closed.
Clearing my throat I tried to placate him. “There’s no way you could bring them here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not, we haven’t been desperate enough to risk it yet because if we’re wrong then whichever children we bring here will die – parents aren’t willing to volunteer their child’s life. The question you should be asking though is whether you have enough land resources to keep humans and Oceanids going. You should be asking what will happen to rainwater when the ocean is so polluted that the water is poisonous.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I admitted glumly.
“It’s all connected, if only we could make them see that, if only we could show how much danger they’’re in, perhaps they would change.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that apart from the war that seemed to grow more imminent with each passing day, the threat to the ocean may become dangerous to humans too.
“What do you mean it’s all connected?”
He shook his head slightly, his shoulder hunching angrily as he continued to lead me through the valley. “You humans are so naïve when it comes to the interconnectivity of life that surrounds you.”
I cleared my throat and gave him a pointed look as he turned to look at me.
He apologised immediately, looking sheepish.
“Let me rephrase it without holding you responsible for everything?”
I nodded and smiled as he resumed his pace.
“If the ocean dies, it will set off a series of events that will result in the extinction of thousands of species of fish and mammals, similar in consequence to the extinction of the dinosaurs, and the very next species in line for extinction will be land mammals, including humans.”
“But I still don’t understand why. I mean the idea of so much life dying in the sea is awful, particularly because of the tragedy that spells for Oceanids, but the land and the ocean are two completely different eco-systems.”
He shook his head. “That’s just it, they’re not. Apart from the billion or so humans the ocean feeds, oceanic algae produce more oxygen than all of the earth’s rainforests put together. With all of the animals in the ocean dying and the continued pollution of the ocean, the rain that is created out at sea will be acidic, killing the algae and melting the ice caps, changing the salinity of the ocean. Apart from the massive shortage of food and oxygen, if the ocean waters continue to be heated and the salinity altered, as they are already being, the currents will be disrupted. Cold countries are warmed by warmer ocean currents and vice versa. So when the currents are disrupted then humans will have the dual catastrophe of an ‘ice age’ in the far northern and southern countries and a ‘heat age’ in the middle. Those humans left after the oxygen and food has run low will have to adapt to vastly different climates, and while the humans may cope, the plants and animals they rely on to feed them are not as likely to adapt as quickly.”
My mouth hung open in shock as I reached out and tugged on his hand.
“Merrick, do they know about this?” I asked, incredulous because I hadn’t and I considered myself relatively well educated.
“How can they not know?”
“Because they live on land, and only go to the beach for the occasional holidays, because they have bills to pay and children to educate and bosses to placate, because they don’t have the time to go and look up oceanic wellness.”
He shook his head, his eyes hard. “They don’t care, Alexandra, they don’t care about the animals in the ocean and if they knew about us they wouldn’t care about us either, that’s why they haven’t found out.”
“You’re right, and you’re wrong,” I told him, seeing for the first time the obvious issue with the Oceanids’ attempts to change human behaviour. The Oceanids were as self-absorbed as the humans, thinking their problems more important than what the average human’s problems were.
“They don’t care because it’s not something we hear about every day. I promise you the news headlines don’t discuss the upcoming oceanic demise, so most people, including me, don’t even know how desperate the circumstances are, and I have to believe that if they did, a lot of them would get involved in changing that. And the other half who don’t care about anyone or anything besides themselves don’t care because it doesn’t relate directly to them. You’ve been trying to get them to change based on what they are doing to other species, not based on what will happen to them if they don’t. That’’s how we’re going to fix this.”
He was frowning in concentration.
“We need to change our approach,” I said, “we need to get them thinking about self-preservation and ocean preservation and in doing so, save them both.”
“That’s not the tactic I expected,” he replied, looking a little stunned, “but it makes sense. The question now is how.”
“I’m not sure how the mind-altering talents work yet,” I told him, “but after the swimming today, that is what I want to work on first.”
“Why?” He sounded surprised.
“Well, if we have a narrow approach perhaps we can use a combination of human stuff and Oceanid stuff to plant the right ideas in the right people’s minds.”
“What human stuff?”
“There are so many ways to plant opinions and get people talking, media, social stuff.” I didn’t want to get into those details as they were easier than the Oceanid stuff as far as I was concerned. “The trick is going to be getting the right people to start influencing society and that’s where the Oceanid stuff plays a role.”
He nodded. “OK, we can work on that later today, but right now there’s something else I want to show you,” he said, his voice light.
He led me down the side of the valley holding onto the branches and roots of trees until we came to a pathway in the cliff face. We walked away from the valley’s opening into the crease of the mountain, the trees growing ever more densely meshed overhead, the air uncomfortably hot and close.
The path came to an unexpected end, opening out into a perfect circle of rock that must have been hewn out of the side of the mountain by some very energetic and dedicated people. The centre of the circle was punched out creating a doughnut shaped pathway.
Merrick walked to the edge of the circular path and stood sideways, his legs braced against a steep slope. He held out is hand and beckoned me forwards. Using his hand for support I sidled forward and peered into the centre of the circle.
The pool was pitch black, the water oily and ominous.
“What is it?” I asked.
“This pool is said to have magical powers,” he replied. “Legend has it that Sabine became a Halfling by swimming in the waters.”
I stared at the pool, every cell in my body recoiling from it. The dark water seemed to writhe with life just below the surface, and the idea of getting into it made me feel sick to my stomach. The menace that drifted up from it was almost tangible.
“Are the rumours true?” I asked, trying not to be impolite.
“No, I don’t believe they are,” he replied, “but that hasn’t stopped Talita from ordering me to test you in this pool.”
I went cold.
“What do you mean?” I asked, horrified.
“She wants me to get you to breathe on your own in there,” he shrugged casually.
“And are you goin
g to?” I was frightened that by asking the question I’d opened the door to action.
“Do you want to?” he asked.
I shook my head, my eyes stretching wide in horror.
“It would be a good way to test your other abilities too,” he replied, “perhaps they’re stronger in water.”
“Merrick, please, I don’t want to go into that pool,” I said shakily, “I’ll go into any other one, we can try again in the cave we were in yesterday, and I promise I’ll learn, but not this one please.”
“Why are you so afraid of it?” he asked, curious but not pushy.
I fought to push the fear aside so that I could examine it more objectively. There was a horrible sense of déjà vu associated with this pool, as if I’d visited it at some time.
A misty image of the nightmares I’d endured last night roiled just out of reach.
“I… I don’t know… but please don’t make me do this.”
“OK then we won’t,” he replied easily, squeezing my hand gently.
I took a shaky breath, utterly relieved that he wasn’t trying to push me beyond where I was willing to go, because this pool terrified me, shook me to my very core. Every time I looked into it, I felt like a malevolent force within it was drawing me towards it.
He continued to regale me with the legend of Sabine’s transformation, pointing to various elements of the valley as he did so.
A whisper of a breeze was the only clue to the attack.
Icy fingers pressed me insistently towards the edge of the cliff, beyond which I would tumble into the yawning depths of that ancient and terrifying pool.
I tried to shout, I tried to ask Merrick for help, but found to my horror that I was mute, my tongue an uncooperative lump in my mouth.
Merrick still held my hand but was turned away from me now, still prattling about a now unimportant detail of the ancient civilisation.
I watched in terror as my heightened senses charted the movement of each dried leaf, each tiny pebble as I was pushed relentlessly toward the waiting black water below.
I concentrated every ounce of mental energy on Merrick’s hand wrapped around mine, hoping that the strange connection he shared with me went both ways.
A rumbling roar exploded from Merrick as he hurled me out over the cliff that led to the pool far below, and swung me round. He let go of my hand at the end of the arc, and I watched helplessly as I flew towards a tree trunk, my body folding around it.
And then there was darkness.
Chapter 30
Collateral
I struggled to open my eyes and focus on the attack I felt sure was coming. My brain couldn’t quite process what I saw when I eventually did get my eyelids up.
Merrick crouched in front of me in a feral arch ready to pounce, a low, menacing hiss rolling out of him.
I thought about sitting up but decided against it when the slightest movement of my head sent colours dancing in front of my eyes and intense pain rolling across my head.
“What do you think you are doing?” Merrick yelled, enunciating each word in punchy fury.
I jumped at the unexpected volume of his voice.
“Testing her,” came the soft reply.
I shuddered, every hair on my body standing on end.
Merrick whirled and shifted so that he had his back to me, shielding me with his body.
“Show yourself,” he shouted again.
They did.
A dozen of them.
Melting into the dappled sunlight, each one looking past Merrick and staring at me, the threat in their eyes unmistakable.
“Who sent you?” asked Merrick, his voice strained but quieter.
“The same one who sent you,” said the Oceanid closest to us.
Although he was “dressed” in human skin, there was nothing human about him. His eyes glittered cold and reptilian in a savagely beautiful face, his body leaned toward me, just past a natural angle, as if each cell had a mind of its own and the sheer force of his desire to attack me defied gravity.
I watched in slow-motion horror as a muscular Oceanid sprang from the bushes and casually held a razor-sharp blade to Merrick’s neck, grinning wickedly as he nicked his skin and a trickle of blood wandered down his chest.
A slither of something smooth wrapped itself around my body and locked into place. I realised with leaden horror that Merrick was completely outnumbered and would lose. I tried to struggle but the more I did the tighter his grip on me became.
“Stop struggling, little one,” he hissed in my ear as he inhaled deeply, running his hand up my arm to my neck. Bile fought its way up my throat.
Merrick used his opponent’s weight to flip himself over and incapacitate him in one easy move, swivelling quickly as the others ran at him.
I screamed as he disappeared beneath a swarm of writhing angry bodies.
And suddenly Aerowen appeared.
“Boys, boys,” she murmured.
I watched in fascination as she lifted her hands languidly, a fine mist lifting from her and drifting in an absurdly relaxed manner swirling lazily around each person.
The Oceanids responded immediately, the fire in their eye’s cooling, their posture relaxing as they moved away from Merrick and allowed him to stand, swatting angrily at the blood from the split lip he’d acquired.
She sauntered over to Merrick and trailed a hand over his shoulders before pulling his head down to whisper in his ear.
She glanced at me, her beautiful face twisting into a mask of disgust, her deep-blue eyes running from my head to my toes. She tossed her thick golden hair in dismissal and placed delicate hands on Merrick’s chest, gazing into his eyes.
Jealousy blossomed greenly at the way she bowed her body to his and the way his eyes focused on her.
“Thank you, Aerowen.” Talita’s voice echoed across the water as she and dozens of other Oceanids appeared on the other side of the circle of rock that encased the pool.
“Bring him here please,” she instructed as Aerowen led a now meek Merrick around the circle and to Talita’s side. At the same time Indra led Josh and Luke forward.
In the audience behind Talita I recognised two of the tiny Merrow I’d met previously. Shannon and Tirta were standing close to the edge of the group, their protective menfolk conspicuously missing.
Shannon’s expression terrified me. She kept glancing frenetically between Merrick and me, and Luke and Josh, her beautiful face lined with worry.
“Why has Alexandra not swum in this pool?” Talita asked, her tone curious but not angry.
“She is terrified of it,” Merrick replied. “I didn’t think forcing her would help her.”
“You were meant to test her, Merrick. Do I need to remind you that apart from guarding her, you were meant to form her?” Her voice was velveteen steel, the authority it took to lead such a unique people blatantly clear. “You have had a few opportunities to get this right. You could have left her when she fell into that pool the first time. You could have left her yesterday. But you didn’t and now on the third opportunity you have failed to complete what was asked of you.”
“I left her as long as possible. Nothing happened,” he replied.
“Well,” she smiled very sweetly, a smile that didn’t touch her ice-cold eyes, “perhaps she lacks the right motivation.”
She turned to me for the first time.
“Alexandra, would you please clear up this terrible misunderstanding and swim in this pool?”
I didn’t want the trouble I could see brewing, to erupt, and I didn’t want to defy Talita either, but as I stared deep into the depths of that awful water, every nightmare I’d ever had about Brent’s drowning paled in comparison to the thought of that water even touching my skin. I knew without a shadow of doubt that I would die if I allowed it to cover me.
“I’m sorry, Talita,” I told her, trying to force courage into my frightened voice, “I can’t do it.”
Abruptly, she turned from me.
&
nbsp; “What precautions have we taken so far with these” – she waved in Luke and Josh’s direction – “boys? Aerowen, Indra what do they know?”
The two women who had been guarding Luke and Josh glided forwards, curtseying slightly before they spoke.
Their movements and speech intonations had an alien quality to them, the inflections in just the wrong place, as if English were something they were still trying to get used to, and another language’s rules kept intruding on their attempts.
They swayed constantly too, reminding me of seaweed in a current, which gave them a sinister air.
“Luke is easy enough to control and has bought into the story I have given him,” Aerowen reported.
The woman I assumed to be Indra dropped her head slightly, a sly smile playing on her lips as her eyes slid to Josh, before turning momentarily to me, her smile widening into a vicious silent snarl, when she caught me staring.
“Indra, what of Joshua?” Talita asked.
She straightened slightly, lifting her chin as she spoke in an overly humble tone. “He is less easily controlled,” she replied. “His parents and grandparents have long memories, and their education has assisted him in resisting some of the explanations I have given him.”
“Is he a risk to us?” asked Talita.
Indra’s curls bobbed as she nodded. “Yes, my Queen, I believe he is.”
My blood ran cold.
Talita dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
“Neith, step forward.”
The creature who’d attacked Merrick earlier stepped into the light. His long black braids were pulled back into a severe ponytail. Thick bands of muscle rippled across his bare back and shoulders as he strutted to the centre of the circle at right angles to us.
“My Queen,” he said, bowing low.
I watched Talita smile and shift forward slightly. It seemed she liked Neith.
Water Page 22
