Adva

by Daniela Jackson

  “Adva, darling, how are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m gonna bathe you and put you to bed.” I run my knuckles down her cheek. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

  She gives me a nod and glides her palms over her hair. Ice fills my veins as her wisps start glittering like diamonds and turn silver from the roots down.

  “Baby, is everything alright?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice is strong, coated with excitement.

  I touch her hair and it’s as cold as frost, as rough as frost.

  Fucking hell. I’ve never seen anything like this.

  I scoop Adva up into my arms, grab a towel and carry her to the bedroom. I pat her dry and she rolls on her side on the bed.

  “I love you,” I say.

  I don’t know what else to say.

  Adva sits on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. She tilts her head and looks at me with freezing coldness. My heart leaps as she raises her hand. A half-smile plays on her lips. She whispers an incantation—dark and cold words, as crispy as a winter night.

  It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and I jerk my body back as a cloud of snow materialises around me and plasters me. I take a sharp breath, and an agonising coldness immobilises me. My lungs feel like ice has covered them on the inside. Pain jabs every atom of my body like a thousand of tiny icicles.

  Adva

  My pain of loss stops suffocating me.

  I’m as cold as a glacier.

  I’m as calm as an ancient iceberg.

  I’m free like a freezing gust of wind that smacks trees on a winter night.

  I look at Conah and a sense of dark contentment surges through me. He looks like an ice sculpture. The bastard is alive, but he can’t move.

  “I hope you enjoy it, darling,” I say. “I am.” I fold my hands as if praying. “Look at you—a big scary angel paralysed by a little mermaid. Funny, isn’t it?”

  I can move. I can run. I can escape my pain.

  I feel so connected with my mother I never met that I can almost hear her frosty whisper. My father loved her like mad. And she must have loved him in her dark cold way. She gave up her life to have me. Snow nymphs never mate, never love—love is lethal for them. They are the guardians of winter. They are all harshness, coldness and sparkly white beauty.

  I sing like a snow nymph—sad and beautiful words about winter, mountains and the winds blowing at night.

  I pull on a t-shirt, a pair of jeans and my favourite black biker jacket, then I start running. My family members jump away as I pass them. They look stunned, frightened even.

  Heather obstructs my way, but I layer her with my frost as I did with Conah.

  I walk out of the clubhouse and run into the woods. I run faster and faster until my surroundings blur and become a wall of greyness. Adrenaline circles in my veins. I run until I reach the shore. I strip and step into the water. The sea waves wash over my feet, warm against my skin. My lungs expand and the smell of seaweed pervades my chest. I wave my arms in an arc as my legs fuse and form a mermaid tail. The sea caresses my body as primal energy fills me. I sweep my arms and dive underwater. Then my mermaid tail slices the water and I swim to my kingdom as fast as a tsunami.

  Conah

  Heather passes a mug with hot chocolate to me, her chin trembling. I’m sitting in the couch downstairs. I’m so fucking cold my hands shake and I spill the drink over my thigh.

  “Fuck,” I growl. Heather passes a piece of kitchen towel to me. “Where is she?” I ask Rive as my voice falters.

  “I don’t know,” Rive says, looking aloof. “Maybe she decided to return to her kingdom.”

  “Take me there,” I say and clear my throat.

  Rive nods. “Okay.”

  “Maybe she wants to be on her own,” Talia says and purses her lips. I shoot her a warning glance. She shrugs. “We didn’t stop her because we suspect she may need solitude and a change of scenery.”

  “She’s my wife,” I growl. “She should be here with me. With her family.”

  Heather clings to my arm. “I think I should go with Rive.”

  “No,” I bark.

  “Dad,” Heather says. “You can piss her off even more. I’ll go with Rive, talk to Adva. She loves me. She’s my mom. She will listen to me.”

  I can see Talia grit her teeth and Rive smile with pity. Murray and Kai on the other hand look at Heather and me with concern and compassion.

  “Heather may be right, uncle,” Kai says. “Let them go. Adva needs our women around her.”

  Rive nods. “That’s a good plan.”

  I know they’re right, but I can’t stand this separation. My heart is dying without my wife by my side. She’s part of me. She’s my air and my life.

  I grab Rive’s arm. “Bring her back to me.”

  “I’ll try.” Rive shakes my hand off as subtle repulsion paints her face.

  I lean towards her. “I love her. You hear me? I love her whether you like it or not.” I send her a grin. “I’m your stepdad now so you’d better respect me, young lady.”

  Right. That’s pathetic.

  Rive rolls her eyes, and I see red flickers in her irises for a split second. My inner angel stirs and an urge of murder courses through me. I shake my head, blink, and the flickers are gone as are my murderous instincts.

  Chills torment me, diverting my attention to the unpleasant coldness still biting my body as I catch Kadmiel’s glance. “What?”

  He raises his hands in a warding gesture. “Nothing.”

  “I saw you in the gate to the past,” I say and grin. “Once. You had a dance class with your lovely wife.”

  Kadmiel’s ears tinge with pink and he waves his hand as Sabrael erupts into laughter.

  “Prez has no sense of rhythm at all,” Sabrael says.

  “You wanna tidy up the garage, Sabrael?” Kadmiel growls.

  Micah pats Kadmiel’s shoulder. “We’ll make a dancer out of you, Prez. One day. Eventually.”

  The whole clubhouse erupts into laughter.

  Rive tilts her head to Heather. My daughter’s wings appear from her back and the two of them vanish in an explosion of white light.

  “Everyone to church,” Kadmiel says.

  Ettrian helps me stand up as Theo grips my elbow.

  “Fuck off, you two,” I growl.

  I shuffle towards our office, every step shaky like two pieces of sponge have replaced my legs. I almost tumble down the stairs and Sabrael’s intervention saves me from banging my head.

  “Thanks, brother,” I stutter.

  Sabrael pats my shoulder. “Adva can be very resourceful.” He leans towards me. “I brought some mud on my boots one day. She told me to mop the floor. I refused. She is a woman, right? And I’m a man. I fucking fight with demons to keep her safe. She just smiled, you know, smiled like a good granny. An hour later, she prepared me a cup of tea,” he lowers his voice to a whisper. The boys enter the office and we stay outside. “I was… kind of edgy after this tea, you know. I smacked Kai’s ass then I smacked Yara’s ass. Ettrian broke my nose and Yara hasn’t spoken to me for six months.” He tosses his ginger hair back. “I’m going to propose to Yara soon, but she’s not talking to me so I don’t know…” He nods. “Anyway I’m very nice to Adva. I mop the floor once a month.”

  “I can handle Adva.”

  He pats my shoulder. “I saw that with my own eyes.” A grin crosses his face.

  He is the first to enter the office and I’m right behind him.

  We spread out. The chairs scrape against the floor as we settle ourselves.

  “Alright,” Kadmiel says. “A lot has happened.”

  Ettrian raises his hand. “There’s one issue, Prez.”

  “I bet, there is,” Kadmiel says.

  “The archangels,” Ettrian starts. “I’m gonna say that straight, Prez. The timeline has cracks but you need to know this. The archangels will rule over the world with demons
. They’ll bring the apocalypse to earth.”

  “The curse,” Micah says, “when we all fell asleep—“

  “When I fucking saw my own death,” Kadmiel says. “That was six thousand years ago. I was a human, my Rive was a human, my wife. The archangels cursed us and killed us both. And then they killed my kids.”

  My daughter sometimes meets with the future Heather and they talk. Then my Heather will burble and burble. She told me about the curse that fell upon Kadmiel’s family and about the warning that curse was supposed to deliver. I also know some of us have had more than one incarnation.

  I keep quiet though.

  I can already feel the timeline crack. It’s like something cold brushes against the back of my neck. A primeval force squeezes my heart and whispers to me. No, it forbids me to destroy the timeline in the hum without words.

  “Don’t fucking talk too much, Prez,” Micah says. “The timeline is unstable.”

  We all exchange glances and nod at one another.

  “They try to stop us in the various points of timeline,” I say.

  The oscillations of primeval energy surge through me, and I know I should not say more.

  “We’ll watch,” Kadmiel says. “We’ll kill as many demons as possible. We’ll be prepared.”

  “Aye,” we say with one voice.

  “We’re not gonna talk about it unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Kadmiel says and our ‘aye’ answers him. “Now the usual stuff. Conah is responsible for the ground around the compound.”

  I salute him.

  “All the dried leaves and garbage,” Kadmiel says and flashes me a grin. “Our bikes, and the spells.”

  I stifle my urge to say ‘no fucking way’. Sabrael pats my shoulder and all the boys nod at me.

  Right. I’m a prospect. Kadmiel gives the orders here—I obey them.

  Adva

  I see Rive walk into the chamber, her body wrapped in four leaves of sea grass—a fancy dress of mint, sage and pear colours. Water drips from her hair. Her eyes fill with dread at the sight of frost that layers the rock walls of the great hall. My sister is standing frozen in the corner—the rock arch above her head is adorned with icicles. She looks like an ice sculpture. No, like a marble angel in an altar, except she’s no saint. She loves having fun with human men.

  I couldn’t stand her laments so I silenced her and immobilised her.

  The seaweed leaves look like stalagmites and stalactites as the floor covered by ice glitters like diamonds.

  Heather lets out a cloud of vapour. I see goose bumps pop up all over her skin. She’s wearing sea grass similar to Rive’s.

  My heart leaps.

  Sadness wavers inside of me for a split second, but I kill it with my coldness.

  “Mom,” Rive says.

  “Go away,” I growl.

  “Mom, listen to me,” Rive snaps.

  “I want to mourn my daughter,” I say. “Leave me alone.”

  “I’m your daughter,” Heather says with resentment. She shivers with cold, her lips purple. “You promised me, Mom. You promised me you’d love me.”

  “Nineve chose to be a human,” Rive says. “She chose her human fragile life. She chose Carl. They had a good life. They’re somewhere better now. Together. And we need you to be with us.”

  Pain crushes my heart. My chest feels like I have a tight corset around it.

  “No,” I yell, but Rive’s words drill into my soul.

  “Some females of our kind choose to be humans,” Rive continues, “and we must be happy for them. We must let them go. We must forget them. We both knew this would happen one day.”

  “I was supposed to die with her,” I say.

  “Carl died with her,” Rive says. “I’m still alive. My daughters are still alive. Heather is alive and she needs you more than Nineve.”

  “She was my baby,” I cry out.

  “She was my sister,” Rive says. “But she chose humans not us.”

  Heather steps closer to me, tears flowing from her eyes. “Mom, please come back to us. I love you so much.”

  I feel her love for me. It warms the ice of my heart up, diffuses into my veins and takes the coldness away from me. I can hear Nineve’s laughter. I can feel her joy. I can feel her love for Carl.

  My pain of loss descends to the bottom of my heart, and I allow my baby to go farther. Her sigh settles in my ears, and I am at peace for a moment. Then I allow myself to be sad. I allow Heather and Rive to carry this sadness with me.

  Heather leaps towards me and hugs me, planting kisses on my cheek. “Love you, Mom. Love you. Please, be my mom.”

  Water drips from my body and from all the walls, flooding the floor. I can see it reach up to Rive’s knees. Somebody coughs. I turn my face to the side and my glance meets Callan’s.

  “You look normal back again, sister,” Callan says with a pinch of sarcasm and squeezes the water out of the hem of her long silver gown. Her warm green eyes sweep over Rive. “My little girl is here.”

  “I’m not that little, Auntie,” Rive says.

  “You’re still so young,” Callan says and hugs Rive. “Right. Show is over. Let’s sing for Nineve.”

  The water seeps through the floor down and blends with the sea murmuring below the chamber.

  The seaweed starts waving as its smell fills me with hope. I rise from my throne.

  “The emerald throne is yours back again, Callan,” I say.

  “It will be mine until you decide to come back for good,” Callan says. “I hate politics, you know this.” She opens one of the chests and takes two gowns out. “Girls, put them on.” She frowns. “You’re princesses, after all.”

  Heather beams at Callan.

  Rive and Heather change clothes as Callan helps them and she smothers them with her hugs and kisses. Rive has a white strapless gown on and Heather’s is blue with the open back.

  We sit on the shelf that protrudes from one of the walls—Heather between me and Rive, Callan beside me. We start singing.

  I feel united with the marine life that hums and swishes and squeals around the chamber. Pain and sadness surge through me and all the good creatures in my kingdom cry with me. I’m eternal for one second and I can hear Nineve’s joyful laughter once again. A warm breeze brushes against my cheek like a kiss.

  Heather clings to me. Her heartbeat resonates with mine. Our bond forms and I know it will last against all the odds—she’s my baby and I’m her mom.

  I feel strong.

  Then I feel weak, but the women around me are here to support me and shelter me with their strength for as long as I need it.

  When we stop singing, my sister leads us to the kitchen—it’s a cave with a tiny hot spring. Very rare species of seaweed inhabit the uneven ground that glitters like charcoal. The water has delicate ripples as steam rises from the green surface with orange and red hues that penetrate it like streaks of light.

  “Eat something,” Callan says to Heather.

  “I don’t eat seaweed,” Heather shrieks.

  “It’s really tasty,” Rive says and tears a long leaf off.

  She rolls it and puts it into her mouth and then chews, moaning and smacking her lips.

  A few young mermen Heather’s age peer into the kitchen.

  “Get lost,” Callan growls at them, scrunching up her nose.

  They bow their heads at us and back up.

  “So tell me,” Callan starts. “Tell me, sister, how it happened that you’re an archangel’s mother?”

  Callan is much older than I am, wiser, more experienced, but she happened to be born as a disabled mermaid. Her lifespan is shorter than eternity—three millennia in fact. It’s a rare disease that affects only females of my kind and there’s no cure. She’s not immortal so she couldn’t take the throne over after my father had passed away. She’s my deputy—one day when she passes away I’ll have to sit on the throne back again.

  She can mask her anxiety caused by Heather’s presence here with her c
alm and warmth, but I know my stepdaughter scares her.

  “I’m not single anymore,” I say. “I can’t tell you more.”

  Callan nods. “You must have a good reason.” She strokes Heather’s arm. “Eat something, sweetie.”

  Heather hugs her and then she tears a leaf off. She puts it into her mouth and retches.

  “Very tasty,” Heather says, as her eyes turn glassy. “Love it.” She kisses my cheek. “Love it, Mom. It’s delicious.”

  I pull her to me and hide her in my embrace. Rive nods at me and her eyes flicker—a scarlet dance. I shudder. Rive blinks and flashes me a bright smile. Her eyes turn emerald.

  I extend my arm towards her and pull her into my embrace. I give my two girls as much love as I can.

  Chapter 4

  Conah

  They stay in the mermaid kingdom for five months.

  I train with the boys every day, check the protection wall around the compound twice a day and try not to go insane.

  I’m not sleeping.

  I’m not eating.

  I’m waiting for my wife and daughter to come back to me.

  In the meantime, I’m a builder. I realise I like working with my bare hands. A thought about starting my own business crosses my mind a few times.

  As Adva walks into the bar on a rainy evening, I feel so relieved that my mind fills with dizziness. My wife looks normal—her hair is dark like I remember and her skin has this beautiful green shimmer. The cobalt mystery of her eyes enchants me as always. She’s so young in appearance but exudes the air of wisdom and experience. A few wrinkles mark the skin under her eyes. I love them as much as I love her.

  My daughter steps into the bar and she smiles at me.

  “We’ve sung, Dad,” Heather says. “It was creepy like hell, but I loved it.” She sprints to me and kisses both my cheeks. “We were eating seaweed all the time. You have to try it.” She clings to me. “I’m a princess, Dad. A real princess.” She squeezes my chest with her arms then pulls away from me abruptly and rushes upstairs.

  Soon, the squeals of all the girls drift down to my ears.