“That’s a good point, Doctor Ramaris,” Visola said, grinning, “and even if they could see directly through our chests, they would be far too distracted by the exterior to do so.” Corallyn giggled at Visola’s indicating hand motions.
“The extra inch of webbing between my fingers and toes is very conspicuous,” Aazuria said, self-consciously examining her hands.
“Sweetie, there are varying degrees of webbed fingers and toes even in land-dwellers,” Sionna said. “Seriously, they consider excessive webbing a disorder called syndactyly. Some people have complete webbing of the fingers or toes that they have to fix with surgery. No one will think anything of it, even if they do notice.”
“I saw on TV that girls with partial webbing of their toes get piercings there to accentuate it,” Corallyn chimed in. “I thought it was pretty. I kind of want to get the webbing between my toes pierced too.”
“It would be hard to wear shoes and walk around while you were healing,” Visola commented.
“Maybe I’ll do it when I no longer have to wear shoes,” Corallyn argued.
“What about my legs?” Aazuria asked. “What if I collapse at some point and have to lie to explain it…”
“Oh Zuri, that’s nothing,” Sionna said with a laugh. She had always been captivated by anatomy and medicine, and she came alive when the topic of conversation drifted to biology. “Doesn’t even Trevain have a limp? Land-dwelling humans are chock full of interesting imperfections. I recently read about a disorder called Sirenomelia which people nicknamed the ‘Mermaid Syndrome.’ Apparently, on rare occasions, human babies are born with their legs completely fused together. That’s what they think of us. They think we are radically abnormal and disfigured in some grossly apparent way.”
Aazuria frowned. “I know that their notions of us are ridiculous. That is partly what protects us from them; their unwillingness to understand. However, if Trevain has all these legends from across the globe, and I am going about declaring myself to be a mermaid…”
“I told you, men don’t believe anything a woman says any longer. The legends could just be a collector-type thing. Maybe he hasn’t actually read them.”
“Nah, they’re dog-eared,” Corallyn affirmed. Then seeing that Aazuria’s face had fallen, she added, “Maybe he just hasn’t read them in years. He’s probably forgotten all about anything he ever knew about us. Decades of hard work will suck the magic right out of life.”
Sionna scoffed. “Darling, we aren’t magic. We’re just biologically superior. It’s all science, really.”
“All life is magic,” Aazuria said softly.
“Speaking of life,” Visola said, drumming her fingernails on the wooden bookshelves, “this is unbelievable. This guy… who is he? Look at these books.”
“What is it?” Sionna asked.
“Underwater birthing. Apparently it has recently become popular with land-dwelling women.”
“How fascinating,” Sionna said, selecting a book. “Perhaps there’s even knowledge in here that could be of some use to Adlivun’s midwives.”
“I doubt that,” Visola said, “but don’t you find it strange? All the subjects? It’s like he knew we were coming. This guy has every instruction manual you could possibly need if you were planning on falling in love with a mermaid.”
“There is something odd about the focus of this library,” Sionna agreed. “I don’t trust him. He could be allied with whatever enemy forces threaten Adlivun—we don’t know nearly enough about our attackers.”
“There’s only one army big enough to dare,” Visola muttered softly.
Aazuria leaned back in the sofa leisurely, studying the suspicious faces of the twins. “Girls, if we really consider it, it makes perfect sense that Trevain would be personally interested in all of these subjects. He’s a seaman. Someone who spends his life on the water probably spends a lot of time meditating on the water. Listening to stories, imagining what could be. Maybe he just likes to research mythologies and practices concerning that which he knows best.”
“That’s right,” Visola said. “There was an Inuit man in his crew—maybe this began with a fascination with researching Inuit traditions, and one thing led to another.”
“Goodness. We have to be very careful around him,” Aazuria said, straightening her spine abruptly. “We may henceforth only curse to generic, non-water-related deities.”
“That’s right,” Corallyn chimed in. “Instead of ‘Dear Sedna’ we can just say ‘Dear God.’ It works just as well.”
“I’m quite fond of the scintillating phrase, ‘Holy Shit,’” Visola offered.
“My sister has charming taste,” Sionna said.
“We still need to investigate part of this house which is much more important than the library,” Corallyn said, uncurling her small body and bouncing to her feet.
“What’s that?”
“The hot tub, of course,” Corallyn said with a grin.
“You goof,” Visola accused with a chuckle. “Mmm, but it has been a while since I’ve gotten wet.”
Aazuria smiled at the girls encouragingly. “You all should go have a soak. I need to spend some time reading and try to get more caught up on this modern world. I need to know everything that has happened above the surface in the last hundred years if I am going to successfully implement reform in Adlivun.”
“Fine, be a bookworm and miss out on the fun stuff!" Corallyn said with a pout. “I sure am grateful that I don’t have responsibilities like yours.”
“You might someday,” Aazuria said to her with a fond smile, “but for now, go relax!”
Corallyn grabbed her laptop and had exited the room almost before Aazuria finished speaking. Sionna smiled and predictably selected a medical volume. “I’ll take this along. I can read and soak.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Visola, trailing after her sister.
The other three having left, Elandria rearranged the throw pillows in the corner of the couch and sat down beside Aazuria. She snuggled in and got comfortable before returning to a weathered leather volume.
“Are you sure you do not wish to go with them?” Aazuria asked.
Elandria smiled and shook her head. Using her elbow to mark her place in the book, she signed to her sister: “I prefer to stay here and read with you.”
Chapter 9: We Have Been Decimated
It was their second day out at sea, and everything had been perfect. Trevain briskly walked across the deck of the ship, his limp hardly noticeable in his determined stride. He meticulously supervised the work of his entire crew, barking out unyielding commands instead of his usual polite-but-forceful recommendations. He was normally very respectful; he knew that the men were capable of doing their jobs and he did not like to insult them by treating them like newbies and nitpicking over minutiae. However, things had changed—Trevain found himself suddenly searching for the proverbial Devil whom he understood to have a penchant for haunting the details.
He would have liked to exchange a word or two, or better yet, blows with that particular Devil.
The crew responded to his behavior in kind, carrying out their instructions in jumpier, but more obedient form. It had only been a few days since Leander’s death, and to a disinterested onlooker the actions of those aboard might have seemed more or less exactly the same as before, (the men were still performing the same routine procedures, and still catching crabs, after all) but the atmosphere had changed significantly.
“Good work, Edwin. Those pots look secure. Careful there, Brynne—if that pitches to starboard you’ll get crushed.”
“Not my first rodeo, Captain.”
Trevain smiled at the woman’s lithe movements as she climbed over the pots. She really was an asset to the morale of the team. “Perfect as always, Doughlas. Just rig a few more of those up and we should be ready to start today’s catch. Callder, for god’s sake! You aren’t done with the bait yet?”
“If this herring didn’t reek so goddamn bad I co
uld work faster,” Callder complained, wiping his forehead with the back of his gloved hand.
Trevain rolled his eyes at his little brother. “Jesus, how long have you been doing this? You should be numb to the smell of fish by now.”
Brynne could not help cracking a smile. “The aroma must remind him of the strippers he’s been hooking up with lately.”
The men all burst into laughter. Doughlas clapped Brynne on the back. “Low blow! I swear; these jokes are twice as funny coming from a lady.”
“She’s just jealous,” Callder said with a scowl as he scooped up great handfuls of putrid bait. “She just needs to get laid is all. She misses all of this hotness.”
“Brynne is way out of your league, Calamari,” Billy said with a giggle. “She could have you in a second if she wanted to.”
Callder grinned. “True. Do you want me in a second, Brynne?”
“You can ask me ten times a day, Calabash, but my answer isn’t going to change.”
Trevain smiled at the antics of his shipmates. “Let’s get started, guys. Ujarak, did you remember to bring the…”
He found himself trailing off midstride and mid-speech. The captain’s head swiveled sharply to the south, and he felt a keen sense of awareness overtake his body. He felt shivers of trepidation suddenly arrest him, along with a dark feeling that could only be described as dread. He walked to the edge of the deck and grasped the railing, staring out at the giant swells of the sea breaking against the boat.
In the darkness of the wee morning, the water looked black. It felt black.
The color was not for lack of light, but for malevolence. Trevain suddenly felt himself taken by a bout of dizziness. Am I going crazy? Today looks like it’s going to be a perfectly fine day for fishing. The skies are clear, the temperature is mild, and the waves are pleasant. What’s wrong with me? He stared at the water until he imagined he saw large, dark figures just under the surface. He peered down at them, trying to determine whether they were whales or sharks or something of the sort. But something about the silhouette of a certain figure struck him as oddly human—and there was no shape more capable or terrifying. He turned around, observing his men hard at work as his double vision began to correct itself. He felt ill.
“Stop,” Trevain said abruptly. “We’re turning around at once.”
Ujarak’s brows knitted together in confusion as he paused, his hands full of ropes. “Captain Murphy? You’re kidding right?”
“No. We need to turn around.”
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Cap’n!” Wyatt Wade shouted across the boat. “Billy and I are just getting’ warmed up here! There are plenty more crabs for the catchin’!”
“Everyone stop,” Trevain said resolutely. “We won’t be fishing today. We’re going back to shore.”
Brynne frowned deeply. “What the hell, Murphy? I know I only worked eighteen hours yesterday, but I needed a nap mainly due to the jet lag. I’m good to go for another twenty-five to thirty hours today.”
Everyone else chimed in with murmurs of agreement.
“Listen,” Trevain said gravely. “I may sound crazy right now; I know I’m asking you all to sacrifice potentially fifteen thousand dollars each… but we need to turn around.”
The crew members looked at each other in quiet surprise and disbelief. The Wade brothers, Wyatt and Wilbert mumbled to each other in displeasure and bewilderment.
Edwin flexed his enormous arm and scratched the back of his neck in puzzlement. “Look, Captain Murphy. I want to be home in front of the television with a beer in my hand and my feet on the ottoman just as much as the next guy… but we have a job to do. We can’t go it alone—we need to stick together as a team.”
“We’ve already taken some unexpected time off,” Ujarak added as he crunched down on an unfortunate toothpick. “We lost prime fishing days due to the whole situation with Leander. We have major catching up to do.”
“I’m telling you all now—if we want to avoid more unexpected days off, and more anguish and grief, we’re not going to fish today.” Trevain’s voice was inflexible and resolute.
“But Trevain…” Wilbert Wade whined.
“No buts, Billy.”
Callder snickered a bit at this, but promptly stopped when he felt Wyatt’s elbow connect with his ribcage.
“Trevain,” Brynne began, almost frantically, “I know that you feel responsible for what happened. My outburst didn’t help. I’m really sorry for attacking you before. I said some awful things. I just didn’t know how to deal with it other than to lash out, you know? But please, Trevain… don’t give up on us. Be reasonable…”
“Brynne, this is not up for discussion. We’re turning around.”
“Wow. When did my big bro grow a pair?” Callder questioned sarcastically. The captain glared at his brother, but their staring contest was interrupted by Arnav stepping between them.
“Guys… look. It occurs to me that we’ve been decimated.”
“What?” asked Wilbert grumpily.
“It’s a word that’s been stuck in my head for days,” Arnav spoke. “Decimation. It’s not an easy thing to deal with, and I think we’re all a little off our game…”
“Decimation?” Ujarak asked.
“It’s a war term. It means that one tenth of our forces have been destroyed,” Doughlas answered. “There were ten of us on this boat originally, and one of us was killed. That amounts to exactly one tenth of our unit being destroyed.”
“But this isn’t a war, boys,” Brynne said “We’re a crew, not a unit. No one is attacking us. The crabs certainly aren’t fighting back. It was just an accident.”
“Whatever it was, I won’t let it happen again,” Trevain vowed.
“It won’t. Leo was an anomaly,” Wyatt Wade said. “If we get scared now, it’s kind of like we just got pulled over for speeding on the highway, and decided to slow down for the rest of the trip out of fear. It’s asinine —I mean logically there won’t be another cop around for ages. This is Alaska, and it’s fucking gigantic. They can’t afford to put a cop at every exit.”
“That’s an interesting comparison, but a little more is at stake here than a speeding ticket. All of your lives are at stake,” Trevain rebuked, running a hand through his grey hair in frustration.
“Captain Murphy,” Arnav said politely. “I think that’s something we all have accepted. I’m sure everyone here has heard the statistics. There are dangers in every job… people die all the time from construction and mining accidents and whatnot. But this is the most dangerous job in the world. I came here knowing that I was one hundred times more likely to die doing this as I was doing anything else in America.”
“Not on Trevain’s boat,” Brynne said softly.
“Now you show some loyalty, eh?” Ujarak spat. “That’s nice, Brynne. After callin’ the cap’n names all day yesterday.”
“I needed a nap,” she said defensively.
Arnav sighed before putting his hands up. “I know Captain Murphy runs the best crew on this sea, maybe the world, and that’s why I begged him almost on my knees to hire me. Still, we’re not immune to the elements. What makes up for the danger is the money. If we don’t work, we won’t make money, and the danger isn’t worth it. We can’t hide from the danger whenever someone gets a bad feeling.”
“I’m with the kid,” said Edwin, in his Canadian way. “This job is all kinds of nasty. It’s physically strenuous, it’s exhausting, and it’s wet. But we’re here because we prefer to be rich men of action than poor men of cubicles. We’re here to get insanely rich. So let’s not wimp out because of what happened to poor ol’ Leo. Let’s catch some more crabs! Let’s make expensive, scrumptious entrées out of some poor unsuspecting suckers!”
A cheer went up from the men aboard the boat, and Trevain found himself frowning. “We already have a good day’s catch. We can head out again tomorrow when we’ve all had a good night’s sleep at home in our own beds and refreshed ourselves. We nee
d to learn not to be greedy. Let’s just take what we’ve got so far and head back to shore.”
“A day’s catch isn’t bad, Captain,” said Doughlas, “but there comes a moment when every self-respecting man has to upgrade the old Toyota. I need a few more bucks to buy that new Audi I’ve been saving up for.”
“Seriously? You’re still on about that Audi?” Wyatt said scornfully. “I told you to go with the X6.”
“Leo was saving up for a goal too. He wanted to buy a house so he could marry his girlfriend. Now he can’t do any of that,” Trevain scowled. “When you get too greedy you end up losing everything. Isn’t that right, Callder? Isn’t that the way gambling works? I won’t gamble with your lives!”
Callder glowered at his brother, but was prevented from responding by Brynne grabbing his shoulder and shaking her head.
Ujarak sighed. “We’re gambling with our own lives, Cap’n. We’re already here. Other fishing crews aren’t going to fish for a day and then go home to rest. They’re all out there now, hauling in their pots and catching as many crabs as possible. They’re pulling inhuman marathons to make the best of the season. They’re bulldozing through their setbacks and focusing on the cauldron of gold at the end of this watery rainbow of shit.”
“This isn’t a competition with the other fishing boats,” Trevain argued. “We need to focus on ourselves. I want us to do well, and I want us to make our money safely—we shouldn’t be concerned with how much other fishermen are making.”
“It totally is a competition,” argued Wyatt. “At the end of the day, I want my house and car to be bigger and shinier than my neighbor’s house and car. This is my method of achieving that. I don’t have anything else in life to aspire to. This is America, you know. Do you expect me to have some kind of nobler intent than competition?”
“And when your neighbors are all also fishermen, you’ve gotta fish harder than them,” Ujarak added.
“Fish harder!” Billy echoed, as though it were a prayer in a gospel choir.
“We make a lot of money, but it’s in fleeting periods of time. The fishing season is always gone in minutes. Every single day of fishing that we lose is a massive amount of money lost as well, and it hurts,” said Doughlas. “I start getting really depressed if I don’t make money for a single day—you don’t even understand.”
Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4) Page 9
