The Merman King

by Michelle M. Pillow

  King Lucius had made up his mind. It was time.

  ‘Surface slowly,’ Brutus instructed. ‘And don’t stay up long.’

  ‘Hold your breath and let the air in slowly,’ Demon added. ‘And be careful, I feel vibrations on the water. There is a boat nearby.’

  King Lucius would not let the fear stop him. That he could still be afraid after so long meant something, and he held on to that emotion. He moved his tail slowly, easing his way toward the surface light. He focused on it, watching as it danced on his skin. When he was within touching distance, he grazed his fingers along the bottom edge. He poked a finger out and waited. When it didn’t burn, he pushed a hand. He waited for the flames that didn’t come.

  Lucius tilted his face down and closed his eyes as he pushed the back of his head out of the water. He inched higher until finally he turned his face upward. The air was warm compared to the ocean.

  Lucius held his breath and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times as his vision adjusted. His eyes stung, but they did not burn in his head. He felt Brutus and Demon below him, felt a hand brush his tail.

  ‘My king?’ Demon asked.

  ‘Should we pull him down?’ Brutus asked.

  ‘I’m well,’ Lucius managed to tell them.

  He wanted to thank them for their friendship, for being there with him. He wanted to say so many things but knew those words were not necessary.

  A boat caught his attention. The faint sound of strange music came from it as it neared. He opened his mouth, letting the air touch his tongue without breathing in. His mouth tingled, prickling like tiny needles being jabbed into his gums. Still, he did not burn.

  Movement by the boat drew his notice, and he saw a flailing red missile fall from the deck. He focused his vision as it hit the water, sending a vibration over his sensitive skin. A woman?

  The king gasped, realizing a woman had fallen into the water. The air filled his lungs at the involuntary reflex. He dove under, blowing bubbles from his mouth as he swam to save her. The twins came up behind him.

  ‘What is it?’ Brutus called.

  ‘Are you injured?’ Demon asked. ‘Does it burn?’

  ‘I saw something.’ The king darted through the water toward the ship. He dove deeper when he didn’t see anyone kicking at the surface. ‘In the water.’

  Just then, a large block passed by him, seemingly coming out of nowhere as it traveled to the bottom of the abyss. The glint of a shiny cord caught his attention, and then a leg. Out of instinct, he reached out, catching the human body before it sank past him. The heavy weight dragged him down with the person, and he was forced to thrust his tail to counter the pull.

  The smell of blood in the water was unmistakable. It mingled with the seaweed-like drift of the mortal’s long blonde hair.

  It was a woman.

  The king glanced up as the boat sailed away and then to her lifeless face. Instinct caused him to open his mouth wide and place his lips on hers. He inhaled sharply. Pulling the water from her lungs, he suctioned his mouth over hers. Her soft body was so delicate in his arms that he was sure she didn’t stand a chance at survival. That didn’t mean he stopped trying though.

  As he tried to breathe for her, he let the heavy block pull them both down. Strands of her hair were in his mouth, but he didn’t dare break the seal. The pressure of the abyss and their rapid descent might otherwise kill her.

  Already she was as cold as the water. The dying heat from her body couldn’t sustain her, so he wrapped his arms around her tightly and held her as close as he could. The anchor pulled them down, alleviating his need to swim as he instead did his best to guide the descent. She didn’t fight his embrace. His sensitive skin detected her heartbeat and he tracked each thud with worry, fearful it might be her last.

  How did the hunters do this? Time and time again, pulling ill-fated humans from the water, only to have them die on the way down? And still they went back and tried. That was true honor. There could be no doubting the hunters’ nobility.

  The law was clear. He knew because he’d declared it, but he’d never been made to follow this particular one. Since women were rare in Atlantes, and he had a dome full of lonely Merr, the king had decided it was best to try to satisfy the needs of both lonely Merr and dying humans. If a human was condemned to a watery death and could be saved, they were to try, even though the odds were not in their favor. Sometimes that meant pushing them to the surface so they could cling to a raft and be discovered by nearby ships. When there was no hope, it meant trying to bring them down.

  Human life was so fragile, so delicate, like the woman in his arms. It was a wonder they’d managed to save any, and it was why they only attempted it with those destined to perish at sea.

  ‘Where did she come from?’ Brutus asked. ‘There was no wreck.’

  ‘The weight,’ Lucius ordered in desperation, as he tried to keep his mouth over hers in the breathing kiss. It was the only chance she had to survive the dive toward the sea floor and to Atlantes.

  The light from above dissipated into darkness. His Merr vision cut through the black with ease, and his eyes radiated a soft glow that reflected off the woman’s face. Beyond them, he felt the creatures of the deep moving in the water. It was more an impression of vibrations and changes in the currents. If the Merr left the sea creatures alone, they normally avoided the Merr in return.

  He listened to rather than saw Brutus and Demon. They darted past him. The pull of her anchor lifted as the two hunters found the cord.

  ‘We can cut the rope with our fins,’ Demon said.

  The cord jerked a few times and he knew they sawed at it with the sharp fins protruding from their forearms like defensive weapons. Suddenly, their descent slowed and he was able to control their path. He turned, angling them toward Atlantes and away from what appeared to be a squid of enormous proportions. The deeper they swam, the fiercer the creatures would become. In the deep, they did not resemble their surface-dwelling counterparts.

  Lucius felt the faint beat of her heart as he pulled her as close as he could. He tried to breathe deep and fast, unsure how much air was the correct amount. It had been so long since he’d held a woman that the brush of her legs along his tail was torture. His lips tingled, but he didn’t dare move them. If the seal broke, the pressure from being this deep would kill her faster than the water in her lungs. What choice did he have but to take her below? She was already almost dead, and whoever had tossed her into the ocean would not welcome her safe return to the surface.

  ‘Steady your breathing,’ Brutus instructed. ‘You’ll need your energy.’

  ‘Well done, my king,’ Demon said with pride. ‘Today you are one of us. You are a hunter!’

  Lucius was worried the man boasted too soon. They still had a long way to go until they made it home. She trembled violently in his arms, and he knew she didn’t have long to live.

  Chapter Three

  Damn it was cold.

  Olivette’s first instinct was to grab for blankets. Her hand met with something smooth. Her hair pulled down around her shoulders. Seeing the image of Tanner flash across her mind, she jerked violently and began to struggle. Arms held her tight and a gag pressed over her mouth.

  When she opened her eyes, two blue dots of light looked at her from the darkness.

  Unfortunately, her struggle wasn’t very effective. Her numb limbs had lost feeling from the cold and she flopped around more than struck at her captor. As she became more aware, she realized the pull on her hair was the rush of water, as if her spirit glided through the ocean. The salt stung her eyes, and she had to close them.

  Her temple throbbed where she’d hit her head when she had tried to escape after Tanner cornered her on the boat. No one had answered her cries for help. The music had been too loud. Now there was no music, only silence broken by the slow thud, thud, thud of her heart.

  They rolled through the ocean, twisting and turning like a roller coaster. She’s always hated
amusement park rides, the jerking back and forth and the sickening feel of free falling. The motion sickness patch she’d had on during the boat trip had most likely come off, because she felt nauseous.

  She tried to take a deep breath and realized the mouth around hers was giving her air. The man was breathing for her. That made no sense. She was lucid enough to know she was hallucinating.

  Still, the man represented life, and she pressed her mouth more fully to his, gasping in what warm air she could deep into her burning lungs. The harder she panted, the worse she felt. They spun erratically as if a sudden current swept them out of control. An object knocked against her back and bounced off again. She gave a small scream of surprise. There was nothing she could do, nowhere to go, so she closed her eyes tight and prayed that the trip would soon be over.

  She had no reasonable idea of how long they swam like that, or if she was even fully conscious for all of it, before light peeked through her closed lids. The stark contrast to the darkness forced her to fight the saltwater sting to look. A man’s face emerged from the shadows, forming around the blue eyes. She caught a glimpse of another swimmer, half man, half fish, but the image was so brief she couldn’t be sure what she saw was real.

  For, if she wasn’t still hallucinating, she’d been taken hostage by mermen.

  The light seemed to be coming from an underwater facility. It grew brighter as they approached. They dove lower, along rocky inlets, until finally dipping into a tunnel. As frightened as she was, the idea of an entrance gave her hope that this ordeal might soon be over.

  They emerged inside the light. The man drew her upward until they broke the surface. He unlatched his lips. Her head rolled back on her shoulders and she struggled to lift it. The impression of crystals on cave walls filtered past her vision. The air was sweet, but she didn’t care as her lungs filled deeply again and again. She coughed, the briny taste in her mouth becoming pronounced now that she was breathing on her own. Her vision faded and she fought to stay awake.

  Olivette was useless as they lifted her out of the water. Her ridiculous costume dripped water over the stone as two men lifted her up and set her against the cave wall. The one who had been carrying her leapt out of the water. He flipped a blue tail. The caudal fin clung to the rocks like wet silk.

  She couldn’t turn away, even when she perceived the two other men to be standing in the cave damp and naked. The blue merman shook his hands to dry them before gliding his fingers over his tail to flick water from it. The caudal fin stiffened, bloating as it morphed into feet. His tail tore apart, blue scales fading into tanned flesh. The fins on his forearms retracted as if stored in his muscles. When he stood, he too was naked. There was a blur of a strong chest, the flexing of an arm, a fisted hand. She waited for the glow to leave his eyes, but they remained an unnaturally bright blue, more brilliant than the gemstones reflecting light on the walls.

  This cave wasn’t big enough for all of them. Olivette felt the walls crowding in. Her breath rasped and she had to fight for each slow intake of air. A cool tear slid down an even colder cheek, or perhaps it was her dripping hair. She couldn’t stop shivering, and she’d lost feeling in her limbs.

  “Co-cold,” she tried to whisper but the word was slurred.

  The merman captor reached down and lifted her up. He held her against him like a limp rag doll, her toes skimming the ground. She didn’t protest as the warmth of his body seeped into her. It wasn’t enough.

  “My king,” one of the others said, “we should take her to Althea.”

  The merman lifted her into his arms. “Run ahead. Tell her we come.”

  He carried her through the caves. Olivette used all her energy to keep her eyes open, even when they couldn’t fully focus. They passed from the primitive cave into an elegant hallway. Impressions of statutes in ancient garb swept past her. She thought to see one of the statues move. Footsteps sounded like bare feet on marble, the slap of skin and rock in a steady rhythm.

  “My king…my king…” People spoke as if from far away.

  The numbness spread. She could no longer feel her shoulder or hips. The only sensation she had was the painful draw of her chest and the bounce of her neck as the man carried her. Her head shifted, turning from the man to the passing walls. Blue, yellow, and white tiles created a mesmerizing pattern. They flashed as light reflected off their glossy veneer. She stared until the repetitious pattern became hypnotic, lulling her sluggish mind with the promise of rest. They passed under an archway and the break in the pattern shocked her back from the brink.

  “Althea isn’t in the palace,” a voice said.

  “Where is she?” the man holding her demanded. “This one’s heart feels weak. We need the healer.”

  “With Aidan in the village. Demon went to search for her.” A hand touched her head and angled it so she again stared at his chest. “You must make her warm and dry.”

  “Send the healer to my home when you find her.” The man holding her began to run, jostling Olivette. The numbness and pain were too much. Let the darkness take her. She no longer cared. Anything to make this strange journey come to an end.

  Chapter Four

  Lucius set the unconscious woman in his bed and inelegantly jerked the wet clothing from her body. The red and white dress sloshed as he dropped it on the floor. The leg coverings looked like a fisherman’s net. They weren’t as wet, but he tore them off as well. He forgot what the new arrivals called the undergarment over the breasts, but he pulled at the back of hers until it broke free.

  When she was out of the wet clothes, he arranged her limbs into a more comfortable position on his bed and drew his blankets over her. As much as he wanted to look at her naked form, he didn’t allow himself the luxury. He watched to see if the warmth of the dry covers would help revive her. It didn’t appear to.

  He left the bedroom and hurried out to the hallway to see if Althea was coming. The palace hall was empty. He glanced around his home, trying to find something to help him know what to do. Though larger in size than most, in many ways his home was just like the others at the palace. The square living area was the center of the home, leading to an office, sleeping chambers, and a bathing room. He ran to his office. He’d spent many nights alone at his desk in isolation. There was nothing of use unless he dumped parchment scrolls over her.

  He rushed to a small table. What was he doing? He took his meals in the dining hall, so there was no need for a place to dine.

  Flustered, he turned in circles. All the decor had been tributes given to him by his subjects, including the furniture. His people had nothing if not time to perfect their trades. The couches were low with no backs and covered wool cushions. The chairs were hand carved. Vases were intricately engraved and painted. Tapestries depicted great scenes from their proudest moments in history.

  He grabbed a blanket from the couch and hurried back to the bedroom to toss it on top of her before searching for more.

  Lucius again found himself looking down the palace hall, anxiously awaiting help that did not come. He wished the healer was there to tell him what to do. It was bad enough that coming out of the ocean left his kind filled with the need for sexual release. Passions ran deep in the Merr, and it was pure torture. They called it the affliction, and if they didn’t manage it they started to feel ill and their thoughts would become unfocused. His blood felt thick with desire, and it clouded his judgment. He didn’t like the fact that his biological needs were trying to take over his thoughts. Just another cruel jest of the gods—deep sexual desires with little opportunity to fulfill them with a woman.

  Unmated Merr, both men and women, were given pleasure instruments to deal with their afflictions. Taking a lover from amongst the population was discouraged. For a time, he’d had a lover—Maia. He supposed it had been good between them. It must have been. However, she’d wanted to be queen and he’d not wanted to marry. In truth, he hadn’t wanted to give her that much power. Her temperament wasn’t suited to leadership. So, s
he declared herself ruler of the Olympians and he’d lost his lover. She became his enemy and now they were at war. Eternity was a long time to hold a grudge over old relationships.

  He went back to the bedroom to check on his ward. She was still shivering and her pale color had moved into the blue spectrum. None of that appeared favorable.

  His naked body was dirty, covered with saltwater residue, and he hesitated before moving to touch her. He laid next to her, cradling her in the blanket so their skin didn’t touch. He rocked and held her, willing her to take his warmth. She shivered violently and when it didn’t stop, he scooped her up and carried her wrapped in the bedding toward the shower.

  With a pull of a cord, warm water rained down onto a platform. Merr did not transform in fresh water. He sat with her on the platform, cradling her to his chest as he leaned over to block the rain from her face. Water soaked the blankets, and he hoped the heat would be enough.

  Lucius didn’t know what else to do. It was still surreal that he’d saved a human woman. Was this a sign from the gods? The first time he’d felt the surface air in thousands of years, and a woman was dropped down into the water for him to capture. It forced him to bring her back down, to leave the surface. Were they not happy that he’d dared to break free of the underwater prison? Or was it a reward for bravery?

  The memory of the surface air in his lungs, sharply tingling, scared him now that he had a moment to think about what he’d done, how close he’d come to death. In many ways, he hadn’t expected Lady Bridget’s theories about the seaweed to work. He was ashamed to admit that a part of him had hoped to die on the surface, for the loneliness and the years to be over. Instead, he rescued his first human.

  The messages from the gods made no sense.

  Maybe they were not messages at all. Maybe there were no signs, only the tediousness of existence.

  Poseidon had cursed them down and forgotten about them. They were disowned children. An embarrassment. Discarded. Buried at sea.