Lost Voices

by Sarah Porter

  It came out in a long, beautiful gust. And it was much more powerful than she'd intended: a luxurious rush of sweet, high sounds. Luce was so delighted she laughed out loud and dove again.

  She understood how it worked now. She still needed to breathe, yes. But a single breath was enough to last her for a very long time.

  She found them in a skinny, pointed beach squeezed between high rock walls: a beach no human could ever get to without a boat, where protruding crags would block the view of anyone who chanced to pass by. The mermaids were cracking mussels on the rocks and sucking them down raw. Luce's stomach roiled with nausea at the sight, but then the nausea turned into hunger.

  "Hey, Luce! I was just about to go back and look for you when we heard you answering.” It was Catarina, who looked more beautiful than ever in the pearly daylight. She was perched out in the middle of the inlet on a wide underwater crag shaped almost like a sofa, lolling back against an outcropping of rock, and Luce joined her there. Luce was surprised by how cheerful Catarina sounded now, and also by the intense joy she felt at the sight of Catarina’s welcoming face. She almost didn’t care what the other mermaids thought of her, Luce realized, just as long as Catarina liked her. “You really have a wonderful voice,” Catarina added, and this time Luce heard something a bit resentful in her tone. And wasn’t there something strange in the way Catarina looked at her, something hungry and suspicious at the same time? Luce’s sudden worry must have shown too clearly, because Catarina laughed, and when she spoke again all the resentment was gone. “Do you want help getting breakfast? I bet you’re not used to cracking your own this way.” She took a mussel from her stash on the rocks and bashed it open. Luce accepted it uncertainly. This was a new start for her, after all, and Luce was very conscious that she couldn’t afford to make a bad impression. It hadn’t lasted long, but even so, her experience that morning of finding herself abandoned to gray, rocking emptiness still lingered, its cold pressure filling her chest. She made an effort and gulped the mussel down.

  It wasn’t bad at all, actually. It was chilly and smooth and salty in a way that felt right to her. She ate more, and then she swam to the beach and tried some rubbery leaves of brown seaweed. The other mermaids were very entertained by the diffident way she bit into the first leaf and then by the changing expressions on her face as she chewed. She was introduced to more of them: Kayley, who was eleven, with an Inuit tint to her skin and beautiful tipped-up eyes and who had sleek black hair; Miriam, who was the same age as Luce, but had been a mermaid already for more than seventy years and had lived with other tribes along the coast. But as they ate and talked there was something that was starting to make Luce uncomfortable.

  The mermaids on the beach ranged in age from five or six up to about sixteen, and they chattered and giggled like any young girls. But at the farthest edges of the group and out on the water, there were a few smaller, softer heads that bobbed and stared or suddenly popped out of nowhere like the heads of seals and then vanished again. Some of them didn't even have hair. They watched Luce in a sad, yearning way that made her feel a little queasy.

  Samantha saw her looking. "Larvae,” Samantha explained, although that didn't help Luce understand much. "Don't pay any attention to them, okay? It only encourages them to hang around more.” Then Samantha failed to take her own advice, and shot a look of distaste at one little head that had floated up too close. "And besides, they attract sharks.”

  Luce didn't know what to think of that. She was just starting to understand how much she didn't know, how many questions she would need to ask before everything made sense to her. Larvae?

  "Are they mermaids?” Luce finally asked, and Samantha grimaced. Kayley nudged Samantha and shook her head to say that it was time to change the subject.

  "She does need to know these things,” Samantha snapped at Kayley. "We have to talk about it sometime.” Then she turned back to Luce. "Technically, yes. Technically they're mermaids.” Her bell voice was colder, more emotionless than ever. "That is, the timahk protects them.” That word again, Luce thought. "You can't ever hurt one, no matter how much you want to, and you're not allowed to drive them away. But they’re not, not proper mermaids. They can’t even talk, and they just make these awful squeaks when they try to sing...” Luce couldn’t help thinking of Gum. She realized she missed him, and she glanced around at the bobbing larvae curiously.

  Babies, Luce suddenly realized. Toddlers. What happened when someone hit a baby girl or left one in a dumpster? They turned into these mermaids that weren’t quite mermaids, and they could never get any older, never learn how to talk or act right ... Luce shuddered. She was starting to understand why the other mermaids were so repulsed by the larvae, but at the same time she felt sorry for them. They had such sad, mushy, helpless little faces, and they stared at her with such longing in their wet, wide eyes.

  “Couldn’t we try to take care of them?” Luce hazarded, and saw the disgusted looks the other mermaids flashed at each other.

  “That’s a really terrible idea, Luce,” Kayley snapped. “We told you. They attract sharks. It would be a lot better if we could drive them away, but the timahk...” She shook her head angrily. “Anyway, there’s no point getting attached to one of them. They can’t swim that fast and the orcas just gobble them up all the time.” She made another grossed-out face. “But there are always more of them. They just keep coming.”

  Luce realized that it wouldn’t help to talk about it more now. She was just making the other mermaids angry. Maybe later she could try to talk to Catarina.

  Catarina was right there suddenly, leaning on one elbow. She’d swum over from her rock so smoothly that Luce hadn’t even noticed her arrive. Now that she was here, though, her presence was so elegant and so forceful that Luce had to make an effort not to stare.

  "It just occurred to me,” Catarina announced. "We still haven't explained the most important thing to Luce. She doesn't know what the timahk is.”

  The other mermaids stopped chattering at once. Their faces turned severe and solemn.

  "What is it?” Luce asked. "Everyone keeps saying that word.” Catarina reached out and lightly, tenderly, touched Luce on her left cheek, right where the golden tail had smacked her earlier that morning.

  "I almost broke the timahk myself today,” Catarina admitted softly. "If I'd slapped you even a little bit harder...” There was a low murmuring among the other mermaids. "If I'd actually hurt you, Luce, I would have deserved expulsion from my own tribe. That's the penalty for breaking the timahk. And a mermaid who's thrown out on her own like that...” Catarina didn't have to finish the sentence. The grim looks on the faces all around her were enough to let Luce understand the truth: the ocean was full of dangers, and a mermaid swimming off on her own probably wouldn't survive for very long.

  Luce couldn't bear the idea of that happening to Catarina. With a small start Luce realized that she already loved Catarina, and not only because she was so grateful for the risk the older mermaid had taken in rescuing her. If only she had had a sister like her, so powerful and clear and fair, maybe being human wouldn't have been so hard at all.

  "It's our code,” Catarina said. "The timahk is the code of honor for all the mermaids in the world. Breaking the timahk is the worst thing that can happen to a tribe. It would be better if we were all killed than if we lost our honor that way. That’s why a mermaid who violates the timahk has to be expelled. It’s to preserve the honor of her tribe.”

  Luce began to grasp how serious this was. She straightened herself, and her voice turned so cold and strong that it surprised her.

  “What do I have to do?” Luce asked. “To obey the timahk?”

  There weren’t very many rules, really. The most important rule was that no mermaid could ever hurt another. No mermaid could ever be banished from a tribe either—unless she broke the timahk first. Anyone who came would be automatically welcomed into the group. And if you saw another mermaid in trouble, you had to do your best t
o help her, unless it was a situation where interfering could get you killed, too. Luce agreed in her heart with these rules. It all sounded much better to her than the way people on land treated one another.

  And then there were the rules concerning humans. These were harder for Luce to accept.

  “No contact with humans,” Catarina said firmly. Luce was upset by that; she’d already been thinking about swimming back to Pittley to visit Gum, though she wasn’t sure which direction would lead her there. She had the vague impression that she’d swum a long, long way after she fell off the cliffs the night before. But if she found her way back and called to him, maybe he’d scramble down to the beach.

  “That just means we can’t be friends with them?” Luce asked. She had to suppress an impulse to ask why she couldn’t have human friends. She understood that questioning the timahk wouldn't go over very well. Catarina was already scowling at her.

  "Friendship with one of those creatures is unthinkable,” Catarina snarled. "Friendship! No contact means much more than that. It means you never speak to a human, and you never touch one. No interaction at all. You can sing to them if you feel like it,” and here Catarina's smile turned cruel. "But then they have to die. That's the last rule. That's the rule you almost broke last night, Luce.” Catarina's voice was bitter now and merciless, so that Luce felt a little scared. "No human who hears a mermaid sing can ever be permitted to remain alive. Ever. And that means you don't sing to a boat unless you can guarantee that there won't be a single survivor.”

  Luce was so shocked that she couldn't restrain herself now. "Why? Why shouldn't they get to live? At least the good ones?” Her voice had turned pleading, and Catarina's tail flicked out of the water; it waved urgently for a moment, drops flying from its golden scales. She was obviously fighting a desire to smack Luce for real this time.

  "Good humans? Luce, haven't you learned anything?”

  Luce couldn't answer. She was thinking of her father's warm voice, his sidelong, playful smile. But if she tried to explain about him to Catarina, she'd have to tell the truth: that her father was a crook and a liar. Almost anyone would judge him to be an extremely bad man. Luce was perfectly aware of that. He was a thief, a scoundrel, a cheat, and he was also the best and kindest person Luce had ever known...

  So maybe that proved Catarina's point in a way.

  "You saw how they acted last night, anyway,” Catarina added in the same savage tone, though at least she’d put her tail back in the water. “As long as you do a good job singing, they want to drown. It makes them happy. Happier than they’ve ever been in their rotten human lives! They’re so disgusted with themselves that they’d rather be dead. We just help them, really.”

  There was silence for a moment. Luce was thinking about the face of the drowning old man when Catarina added something, a little reluctantly. “But it’s hard for any mermaid to keep too many humans enchanted at once. Even the best singers can only handle so many at a time...” Then Catarina shot a vindictive glance at Samantha. “Some of our singers can barely even deal with one human.”

  Samantha’s face buckled with humiliation, and Luce knew this was revenge for what Samantha had said back in the cave: that Catarina was too sensitive about her past.

  Luce tried not to let the personal drama distract her. She needed to understand. “And that’s why you won’t try to sink a ship that’s too big? You wouldn’t be able to ... to make completely sure...”

  “Exactly.” Catarina nodded. “We can’t risk losing control of the situation. Just think of what they’d do if they ever found out we’re here! They’d poison the whole ocean if they had to just to kill all of us.” A snarl came back in her voice. “They already do poison it. Such filthy things they throw in here!”

  Luce was still brooding over all of this. She didn’t like the idea of killing anyone. But on the other hand, everything Catarina had said was obviously true. Humans did do terrible, unimaginable things, to one another and to the whole world. They’d done something awful to every girl here.

  "But what do we do about kids?” Luce asked at last. "If there's a kid on one of the ships...”

  Catarina flashed a callous smile, and stroked Luce's hair with her long, cool fingers.

  "Oh, but they're just going to grow up, aren't they?” she said.

  5. Wondering

  After the painful explanation of the timahk, though, the afternoon turned wonderful. The mermaids swam out into the open sea and taught Luce tricks: ways of swimming upside down, of turning underwater loops so fast that the flying bubbles made their long bodies look like giant silver rings, and how to use a quick corkscrewing movement of her tail to shoot straight up out of the waves. They took turns twirling up into the air and then splashing down again, and Luce laughed so hard she felt breathless. It was a pale gray day, the clouds above glowing like soft lamps, and around her the water pleated aluminum white and dull dark green together. The crisp salt smell excited her, the rhythm of lift and fall became a kind of music ringing inside her chest, and the gulls wheeled and screamed above. Once in the distance she spotted the sweeping shape of a bald eagle.

  It was so easy to tread water now. She didn’t even need to use her arms. Just a tiny circling movement with the broad, sensitive fins at the end of her tail, and she could stay in one place with her head above the water for as long as she wanted, riding the swells. It still felt a little strange, but Luce was becoming aware of just how much she loved having that forceful tail. It was infinitely stronger than her legs had been; it was stronger than any human legs, even a marathon runner’s. And then the color of it was so beautiful, a brilliant silver glimmer over soft jade green. It was perfect for her, exactly the color she would have chosen.

  They were all so friendly to her, so much fun. Luce had barely ever had real friends in her life. She and her father never stayed anywhere for more than a few months, so even the rare friends she had made were always left behind as soon as her father told her it was time to pack up again and the red van rumbled off down the next highway. But Luce had been enrolled in different schools a few times, and the other kids had never treated her like this, with so much warmth and acceptance. Luce was starting to realize that a lot of the other mermaids actually admired her, even though she was the one who was new and strange. It was an incredible stroke of luck, she thought, that she’d found them all. Luce still didn’t like what her new friends did—sinking ships, drowning people—but it was hard to think of them as evil when they were being so nice to her.

  Luce did an especially high twist up into the air, then at the top she somersaulted and curved down again into the sea. Silver water flashed in her eyes, and when she came up into the circle Catarina beamed at her delightedly. “That was incredible, Luce! And when you're still getting used to your tail. You're really a natural at this.” Again Luce thrilled at Catarina's warm golden smile, and the sweet moonlight glow of her gray eyes set in their thick fringe of auburn lashes. She was sure now that Catarina did like her, very much. Luce was just grinning back when she caught sight of another dark, disquieting flicker in Catarina's eyes.

  "She's such a natural,” Miriam agreed. While most of the mermaids had a slightly green or golden cast to their skin, Miriam's was just faintly blue, her tail inky, and her eyes were smoky black above high, fragile cheekbones. She seemed very small for her age: fourteen, like Luce. "I've been in the water for longer than any of you, and my singing's nowhere near—” Miriam broke off. Luce understood by now that singing was a touchy issue, and also that it might be the reason for the awed glances some of the younger mermaids gave her.

  Something else kept bothering Luce, though.Just the ghost of an unbearable idea, always hovering at her back. Maybe if she ignored it for long enough, it would eventually go away.

  "Catarina! You know what you should teach Luce?” Samantha exclaimed. "Some of those singing tricks you can do. Like that one where you make your voice into a ball, kind of? I bet she'll be great at them.” Luce thou
ght that sounded fantastic. She loved how it felt to use her voice now, and also she wanted something to distract her from that needling, half-formed idea. She turned to gaze excitedly at Catarina, expecting to be met by her shining smile.

  Instead Catarina looked tense, sullen. The happy sounds of the chattering mermaids faded as they all noticed Catarina's darkening mood. She looked around at them all with her brows drawn together, her lips pursed. The silence lasted much too long.

  "Singing can't be taught,” Catarina finally announced in her coldest voice. Hearing it, Luce felt like the back of a steel knife was being drawn along her skin. Was her singing the reason why Catarina watched her with shadows stirring just behind her eyes? "You know that, Samantha. Maybe it's possible that someone could get better by practicing on her own, though I can't say I've ever really seen that happen...”

  Samantha and Kayley exchanged a look that was much too obvious. It was like they were daring each other to say something. Luce wasn't completely sure what was going on.

  Kayley was the one who took the chance. "Do you even hear yourself, Cat? Everyone can tell you're just afraid. You think if Luce was that good while she's still just metaskaza...” Luce was dismayed. Catarina's lovely face was crumpling with pain and anger, and Luce had the awful feeling that she was about to be stuck in the middle of a fight. Whatever this was really about, she didn't want anything to do with it.

  "I don't want Catarina to teach me anything about singing,” Luce lied firmly. "I'm not sure singing even interests me that much. I'd rather learn more about swimming.” Kayley shot her a look of open disbelief, but Catarina's tension finally dissolved.