Island of Secrets

by Janni Nell

  “Would now be too soon? I have a helicopter waiting.”

  Sophie didn’t whine when the flight made her puke again. She didn’t complain about the long walk from the helipad to the beach, and she didn’t waste time making small talk. If not for her relationship with Casper, whatever that might be, I’d have liked her. A lot.

  When we reached the beach, she took off her flat-heeled shoes and walked across the hot sand into the water. As the little waves lapped around her ankles, she made a series of clicks and whistling noises. It wasn’t long before a young mermaid surfaced. She was a kid of about ten, who chattered away to Sophie until an older mermaid appeared and gave her a good tongue-lashing. Probably for talking to strangers.

  Sophie waded deeper into the water and spoke to the older mermaid. As the mermaid listened, she kept a tight grip around the young female’s wrist. Finally she nodded and both mermaids dived. Sophie retraced her steps up the beach.

  “I have asked to speak with the mers’ Keeper of Histories,” she told me. “But there may be some delay while they decide whether to trust us.” Sophie’s face was pale again. Sweat ran down her cheeks.

  “I’ll get us some water,” I said. “Wait in the shade.”

  Leaving her beneath a palm, I hurried back to my cottage and grabbed some bottled water from the maxi-bar. When I returned, she had left the shade and was standing near the water’s edge. Her face was flushed.

  I shoved a bottle into her hand and said, “Drink this.” She’d taken only a few sips, when three mers appeared. Two were young males carrying spear guns, and the third was a mermaid with many shells in her hair.

  Sophie spoke to them, translating for my benefit after each burst of speech. The mermaid, who was the Keeper of Histories, began by saying, “I apologize for bringing armed guards to this meeting, but we are a people at war.”

  When Sophie asked how the war with the Tikini-Kai had begun, the historian answered, “Princess Melani of the Tikini-kai was betrothed to a prince of the Talini-kai. Custom demanded that the princess and her family travel to the prince’s island for the wedding. They asked the mers for safe passage across the sea. It was a courtesy not a necessity. The mers and the Tikini-kai had long been friends. In our waters they were not in danger. Not from us.”

  So far this was pretty similar to the Tikini-kai’s version.

  “The mers kept their word and escorted the Tikini-kai vessels across the sea. All went well until the human ship with the dark flag attacked the Tikini-kai. The humans stole a treasure and sank many vessels. The mers defended the Tikini-kai against the humans but, in the heat of battle, a Tikini-kai was killed by a mer weapon. The Tikini-kai believed the mers had joined forces with the humans. When the mers tried to explain the truth, the Tikini-kai refused to listen. They declared war on both mers and the humans with the dark flag. But the humans sailed away. Only the mers were left to fight.”

  When Sophie fell silent, I said, “Ask them for a description of the human’s flag.”

  Sophie translated, “Black with white bones. Crossed.”

  “A pirate ship.”

  “It makes sense,” said Sophie. “The mers would not betray the Tikini-kai. They are a gentle race, known for their fairness.”

  So why did the Tikini-kai have such a radically different view of the event? I thought I knew the answer. Only three Tikini-kai had survived to tell the tale. A five-year-old boy and his sisters, who weren’t much older. They had all been traumatized by the deaths of their parents. Their perception of events was not reliable.

  I was inclined to believe the mers’ version, but that was bad news. If pirates had been responsible for the theft, we were unlikely to find either the dowry or the Star of Light. Pirates were not noted for their frugal habits. Probably they had spent their ill-gotten gains long ago on good rum and bad women.

  Plan A had been to stop the war by returning what had been stolen, but there seemed little chance of doing that now. Moving on to Plan B, I told Sophie to ask the mers whether they’d attend a peace talk. They were up for it, but Sophie managed to rain on my parade.

  “That’s the easy part,” she said. “The million-dollar question is, how will you get the Tikini-kai to attend?”

  Chapter Seven

  The peace talk was scheduled for the following morning. It had taken all my patience to persuade King Kanu to attend, but he’d be there. At least he would be if he wanted to collect my bribe of a boatload of fish. If everything went to plan, Oak would soon have peace in his waters and I’d have a vastly improved bank balance.

  I’d recently had the crazy idea of buying my own apartment. Not that I could afford it, even with Oak’s fee, but if I saved really hard…maybe. Everyone needs a dream. Just like Oak had his dream of peace.

  The peace talk was scheduled for early morning so Sophie was spending the night on the island. By now, she should’ve been tucked up in bed, but she wasn’t. From my balcony I could see her moonlit silhouette sitting on one of the jetties, dangling her bare feet above the water. She wasn’t alone. Casper hadn’t touched her yet, but I figured it was only a matter of time… Yep, there you go. He put his arm around her shoulders. Unwilling to witness anything more intimate, I turned away and went inside.

  Being thoroughly conscientious, I crawled into bed and brushed up on my Goblin vocabulary. I’d need to be the best translator I could be if I expected to persuade the Tikini-kai to put aside their prejudices and trust the mers again.

  I fell asleep thinking about lies and deceit and betrayal. Under the circumstances, it was no surprise that I had the worst dream.

  I was at an outdoor wedding. A pretty square of garden served as a chapel. Rows of chairs were filled with guests wearing bright summer colors. Beneath an arch thick with climbing roses stood the bride and groom. She wore frothy layers of white lace. He was elegant in a gray morning suit. I was behind them with the other guests, unable to see their faces. When I noticed red hair beneath the veil, I knew the bride was me. Suddenly I was standing in the minister’s place in front of the happy couple, looking at myself and Dylan hand in hand. He was smiling. My cheeks were wet with tears.

  “Do you take this man…?” said minister-me to bride-me.

  Before I could answer, the scene shifted and minister-me was addressing the congregation. “If anyone objects to this marriage—”

  “I do.” Casper flew down on golden wings.

  “On what grounds?” minister-me asked.

  Casper opened his mouth, but instead of words a swarm of wasps flew out. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Bride-me ran toward him through the cloud of stinging wasps. I ran and ran until the garden became a desert. Across miles of sand I stretched out my arms to Casper. Clouds covered the sun and dust billowed around us.

  Minister-me called, “Come back. You’re not married yet,” as huge hands reached down from the gray clouds and yanked Casper away from bride-me.

  I awoke sobbing.

  Unwilling to go back to sleep in case I had more horrible dreams, I turned on the light and spent more time brushing up on my Goblin vocab. When my concentration wavered, I threw on some clothes and headed for Sunrise Beach.

  Jogging for the first time since my coral cut had healed was pure bliss. Soon the memory of the bad dream melted away. The sand was cool against my bare feet, my blood pumped and my head cleared. When I’d worked up a sweat, I launched into a series of stretches.

  Afterward, as the sun rose higher, I waded along the water’s edge, cooling my feet and going over my Goblin vocab yet again. What was their word for hibiscus? Bugger! If I forgot that the peace talk would fold like a giant in a closet. As I racked my brain, trying to remember the word, something snaked out of the water and grabbed my ankle. I yelped and tried to shake myself free, but the mermaid’s hand held on tight.

  She’d never have sneaked up o
n me if my toe had itched. I silently cursed the feral coral. The mermaid’s silvery-blue tail swayed below the water. Elegant, beautiful. Shifting my attention from her tail to her face, I recognized the mermaid who had sung alone when we’d returned the mer’s body to the ocean. Water glistened on her broad shoulders. Her breasts were so perky even the best plastic surgeon in the world would struggle to reproduce them. Her skin was lightly tanned. The shells in her hair clicked when she moved her head to look up at me.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  She clicked and squeaked, struggling to communicate. She seemed sad rather than hostile but, of course, I couldn’t understand the words. I shrugged and shook my head.

  She raised her voice and spoke slowly just like humans do when we’re trying to communicate with someone who doesn’t speak our language. I shrugged again. The mermaid frowned. She beckoned me closer, lifting her clenched fist. I clenched my own ready to fight back, but I soon realized fighting was the last thing on her mind. She opened her fist. On her palm was a perfect pink pearl.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  She tried to give it to me, but I pulled my hand away. If this was intended as a bribe to favor the mers during the peace talk, the worst thing I could do was accept it.

  “Consider me neutral,” I said. “I can’t take sides.”

  She became agitated. Tears glistened on her long lashes. She said something that sounded like please. I felt sorry for her, which was pretty dumb when she was trying to bribe me.

  “Hey,” I said, even though I knew she couldn’t understand, “I’m not perfect. I eavesdrop. I punch first and ask questions later. I lie, when it’ll help with a case—actually, I lie over most of my friend Wanda’s fashion choices too—but one thing I don’t do is take bribes.”

  “She’s not offering a bribe.” It was Queenie, moving toward me, her dress hitched up revealing stockings and red garters above her black boots.

  “And you know this because…?”

  “I speak her language,” said Queenie. My skepticism must’ve been obvious because she went on, “I’ve been on this island a long time, ducks. All alone. Except for them.” She jerked a thumb at the mermaid. “After a while I started to pick up the language. By now I speak it bloody well.”

  I’d wasted all that time looking for a Mer translator, when there’d been one here the whole time.

  “Is the pearl a bribe?” I asked Queenie.

  She shook her head. “It’s a gift. Pink pearls are sacred to the mers. Only they know the location of the special oyster beds. Coral is thanking you for returning ’er mate’s body to the ocean.”

  “Coral?”

  “It’s a very popular name for mermaids.”

  “Hope she won’t cause me as much trouble as the last coral I met,” I grumbled, wriggling my toe and hoping for an itch. Nope, not even a tingle.

  Queenie exchanged some more sounds with the mermaid, who once again gestured for me to take the pearl.

  “Coral is ’appy you helped ’er give ’er mate a proper funeral,” said Queenie. “She begs you to accept the pearl as a mark of ’er gratitude.”

  Tears bloomed again in Coral’s eyes. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t really refuse her gift. Besides, the pearl was lovely. My fingers brushed against her cool skin as I accepted the gift and put it in my pocket. “Thank her for me. Tell her I’m—” I struggled to find a word to express my feelings.

  “Honored,” suggested Queenie.

  “Yeah.”

  She and Coral exchanged more sounds until Queenie said, “She wants to know if ’er mate had any last words.”

  “Well, no,” I said. “When I first saw him, he was Oak’s deep freeze. He’d been dead for days.”

  Queenie thought for a moment. “Want to do your good deed for the day?”

  “I’m always up for good deeds.”

  “Make three clicks with your tongue, followed by one of those long high-pitched squeaks, followed by two clicks.”

  I did as Queenie instructed. Coral nodded and blinked back fresh tears. Then, with a sad little wave, she dived beneath the water, disappearing in a flash of silvery-blue.

  “What did I say to her?” I asked.

  “That ’er mate’s last words were that he loved ’er.”

  I smiled at Queenie’s kindness, but she immediately spoiled it by saying, “You can pay me back for that translation with gin. I ain’t had a tot in years.”

  I promised I’d bring her a bottle after the peace talk, but I didn’t keep my word. Not my fault, I swear. Blame bad luck and bad timing.

  Chapter Eight

  A group of five Tikini-kai stood on the dry sand. King Kanu had arrived early, accompanied by two advisors and two bodyguards. Unfortunately one of the bodyguards was Narfu, who spent some quality time practicing his death-stare on me.

  The king wore full ceremonial costume, including a cape of multicolored feathers and a tiara he must’ve salvaged from a wrecked ship. Instead of appearing ridiculous, he looked dangerous, his eyes sparking for a battle. I wanted to tell him to chill, but I was distracted by the arrival of the mers.

  Like King Kanu, Lord Wave Rider was attended by two advisers and two bodyguards. He had the well-developed shoulders and chest common in mers, but his neck was much thicker than average. Guess he needed that extra strength to support the weight of all those shells woven through his hair. In contrast to King Kanu, his eyes were as calm as the blue-green shallows, where he and his followers reclined.

  Providing a buffer between the warring races, was the human contingent. Oak was sitting cross-legged on the sand, preparing to take notes on his laptop. Quinn stood beside him. He wasn’t really big enough to be a bodyguard, but he was the best Oak had on the island so he’d have to do. Besides, he was trustworthy and that counted for a lot. Then there were Sophie and me, both of us nervous, both hoping for a good outcome.

  No one was supposed to be carrying weapons, but the Tikini-kai had arrived with bows and arrows, which they refused to put down. Sophie did some swift talking with the mers, who proved they weren’t armed by holding up their hands and rolling over in the shallows to show they had nothing concealed. The Tikini-kai reluctantly put down their weapons. Not far enough away for my liking, but the mers found it acceptable. Probably they had their own weapons hidden on the ocean floor.

  Sophie and I exchanged a glance. Whatever my feelings about her relationship with Casper, I now had to put them aside and work with her to achieve peace. Speaking of Casper, it was right about then that he walked onto the beach.

  I faced him, hands on hips. “What’re you doing here? Are things about to get dangerous?”

  Sophie stared at us. “You know each other?”

  “We’re old mates.”

  “That is good.” She smiled. “We will work as a team. I asked Casper to join us for protection.”

  The mention of Casper and protection in the same sentence encouraged me to ask, “Are you his morsub?”

  Sophie looked confused. “Morsub? I do not understand this English word.”

  “It means nothing,” said Casper. He glared at me. “Maybe you should start the peace talk. The Tikini-kai are getting restless.”

  We flipped a coin to decide who would be the first to speak and King Kanu won. He began on a confrontational note. “Tell the mers we’ll make peace when they return Princess Melani’s dowry and the Star of Light.”

  Right, so we were off to a great start. Not that I’d expected diplomacy from a goblin.

  Improving King Kanu’s opening statement just a little, I translated, “The Tikini-kai bid you welcome, great lords of the ocean. It is an honor to talk peace with such an illustrious race.” Sophie clicked away to the mers and when they nodded approvingly, I went on. “King Kanu’s ancestors were dee
ply saddened by the disappearance of Princess Melani’s dowry and the Star of Light. If the mers know the location of these treasures, King Kanu would be extremely grateful if they shared this information.”

  After some clicking back and forth, Sophie translated Lord Wave Rider’s response. “Greetings, Tikini-kai, great lords of the land. The mers would gladly help find your treasures, but regretfully we have no knowledge of them. However, as a gesture of good faith, the mers would like to offer the Tikini-kai fishing rights in the place we call the Fragrant Sea.”

  King Kanu licked his lips at the prospect of fresh fish. “What do they want in return?”

  I was surprised he didn’t pursue the issue of the stolen treasures, but perhaps he realized there was little chance of getting them back after all this time. Or maybe he was willing to do anything for a regular supply of fish.

  Through Sophie, Lord Wave Rider asked for hibiscus flowers in return for the offered fishing rights. I was passing this on to the Tikini-kai, when Sophie grabbed my wrist with her good hand.

  “Wait. The mers want something else. They want the Tikini-kai to acknowledge they did not steal the treasures.”

  I groaned inwardly. There was no way to put a good spin on that, no matter how many fancy goblin words I used. King Kanu would never go for it.

  Deciding a bit more sucking up wouldn’t hurt, I said, “Oh great and magnificent King Kanu, the mers will trade fishing rights for hibiscus flowers.” King Kanu’s advisors nodded approvingly.

  The king said, “We agree.” And right there, Oak had his peace. I wanted to punch the air in victory. Of course, I hadn’t told King Kanu about Lord Wave Rider’s other request. But was that really necessary? Neither side knew the other’s language. No one would know if I failed to mention it. I’ve learned a bit about politics and diplomacy (let’s not call it lying) from my stepfather, Senator Steven Richard Hampton XXXIII, who had been voted sexiest politician of the last decade. I’m not ashamed to admit I put what I’d learned into practice. All for a good cause, you understand.