Surviving The Tempest: Tempest Tales

by Elsa, Sandra

  So maybe it wasn't mages I disliked so much as their policies…but Harrison was right about that too. Why shouldn't they be able to decide what happened with their products. A lot of people feared mages because of their power. I'd feared them because I didn't want to be imprisoned. So what the hell was I doing tying myself to one man? One mage?

  The trolley stopped outside a hotel near the beach and I got off on the southern end, walking between the Oceanside and the Red Herring hotels. The boardwalk turned to parallel the water and I started north.

  I walked without paying attention to my surroundings until I noticed a cluster of teen drug addicts. No sense getting involved in that mess again. I turned south again, my speed barely slowed as I made it back to where I started. Nervous energy still roiled in my gut and I walked toward the water and out along the fishing pier. A man at the end of the pier examined me for fishing equipment as I passed. Since I had none, he let me by without paying the fee.

  There were no other night time fishermen so I wandered to the end and sat down, dangling my feet over the edge, wishing I had thought to wear a swimsuit. I lay back and stared at the stars, unwilling to go back to the house even though my stroll on the boardwalk had taken enough time Harrison should have finished his meal long ago.

  The stars weren't as bright here as they were from our little hideaway in the mountains, but with the decreased tint on the dome they were more visible than I’d seen them most of my life. The waves lapped gently under the pier in a regular cadence, generated by machines. It was restful and calming and I let my mind wander to tranquil places.

  A splash out of rhythm dragged me from my happy place in the mountains. I looked around to see if somebody had jumped in, then concluded it must be a dolphin. The locals assured me no man-eaters like sharks lived in the waters so I wrote it off as normal and relaxed again.

  Not five minutes later another splash made me sit up and gawk around. Behind me, further up the pier, a man was walking toward the shore. The keeper at the end of the pier tossed something at him and he stopped to draw on a pair of shorts. I watched him go, then laid back down, only to hear the splash again and turn to watch a woman walk away. She too received clothing at the end of the pier before she headed up to a restaurant for supper. I snatched my feet out of the water as something brushed against them. Then spun around to stare under the end of the dock.

  A fin, dimly lit by the nearly full moon, disappeared in the depths. I sat up straight and glanced around as another man hauled himself out of the water. This one turned to face me, laughter trapped in the shadows of his face. He waved, then ambled toward me. Within a few steps I saw the clothing wasn't covering bathing suits but nakedness. I watched him a moment longer then turned away, heat, flushing my face as he drew close.

  He plopped down beside me as though naked were perfectly normal. "Fancying a swim?" he asked.

  "Not dressed like this. And I'm not wearing your attire in public."

  "Then what's a beautiful woman doing sitting out here all alone?"

  I stared out across the water and saw a dolphin leap from the water. "Thinking."

  He put a hand around his mouth and emitted a series of high pitched clicks and whistles. The dolphin turned toward us and leaped out of the water skimming just below the surface until she stood before us on her tail, then flipped and circled below where my feet had been.

  "This is Poppy," the man said. “She likes new friends.”

  "You speak to her?"

  "Usually can't shut her up."

  As if to prove him right Poppy chirruped a couple of times. Then clicked and dove under the water to come up and stand on her tail again babbling dolphin speak at a mile a minute.

  I stretched a hand toward her and she thrust her head under my palm before settling back into the water.

  "She's asking what your name is."

  "All that was, what's your name?"

  He laughed. "No but you don't strike me as the sort to tell someone your life's story the moment you meet them. She wants to know where you're from, how long you'll be here. What you do for a living, what your parents’ names are…shall I continue?"

  "No, I get the picture." I hung my hand over the pier and she nuzzled it. "My name's Frankie."

  She chirruped again and the man at my side translated. "Nice to meet you."

  "Nice to meet you too, Poppy." I turned to the man at my side. "If I'm going to sit around here with a naked man I should probably know your name as well."

  His smile widened and he extended his hand. "Paul. Paul Whitover."

  "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Whitover." I tentatively took his hand, shook it quickly then dropped it. "So why do you and your friends swim around naked in the moonlight?"

  "We live in the water." He leaned his head back and moonlight shimmered off iridescent scales along his sharp cheekbones. Mesmerized I lifted my hand to touch them, before remembering how rude and improper that would be.

  He laughed at my hesitation and Poppy chirruped laughter with him.

  My cheeks heated and I stared back across the water. "I've seen others like you in the shops. I thought it was just make-up. Just wanted to check because this close they look real."

  "They are real. In the southwestern corner of the district there's a genetics lab. My great-grandfather was a geneticist. He experimented with the possibility of adapting people to survive in environments other than airbreathing. Several generations back I think we were looking for a way to assist mankind's survival in space. But as it became obvious we weren't going to space again at any time in the near future, Great-grandpa started varying experiments. He ultimately experimented on himself and a couple of volunteers, and here we are, Merfolk."

  "Cool."

  Laughter trilled across the water as Poppy flipped up into another tail-stand.

  Paul leaned over and touched her glittering wet hide. "Yes, I know you told me so." He turned back to me. "That's all you have to say?"

  "My Father's working on a unicorn for me. Why would I find Merpeople unbelievable?"

  "Your father's a geneticist?"

  "Head of research and development at a university."

  "So why a unicorn?"

  "I read a lot of fantasy/"

  "Daddy's little girl?"

  "Nope. I just met him two months ago and he's willing to bend over backward to give me what I want."

  "My father was a fish and I grew up knowing him."

  "My mother didn't plan…" I stopped. Melancholy or not, I didn't share my life’s story with just any naked man.

  "I'm sorry. None of my business. So what has you out here on the pier alone?"

  "Argument with my husband."

  He frowned, disappointment clear. "Husband?"

  "Yes. Husband."

  "Hope he's not the angry, jealous type." He glanced over his shoulder.

  "He would probably disapprove of this, but right now, I'm not inclined to care what he thinks."

  "What happened?"

  "I'm pretty sure his father happened. We've been married two months and it's our first argument but I'm reasonably certain it was caused by magic. I'm sitting here contemplating how to undo the magic. I'm reasonably sure it's hedge-witch variety, not mage. Although it may be a combination since his father is a mage."

  "Is he also a mage?"

  "Yes. But normally, very even tempered. He'd let you explain before he blasted you."

  "If his father's a mage, why would he resort to hedge-witch magic?"

  "That's personal, and I don't know you from Jack so forgive me, Mr. Whitover, if I don't share my innermost thoughts."

  "Not a problem. You hungry?"

  "Yes."

  "Anything but seafood and I'll be glad to keep you company."

  "Is that because it'd be like eating your friends, or do you eat too much of it straight from the source?"

  "Mostly the second."

  "So do you change in the water? Do you have fins and gills?"

  He grabbed my h
and and pressed it to the side of his neck. A series of nearly invisible ridges textured the smooth softness of his throat. "They're much more noticeable under the water. If you decide to swim with me I’ll show you my true form."

  "You don't consider this your true form?"

  "No. At most I spend two or three hours a day in this form." He paused and grinned. "Unless I happen to meet a beautiful woman I choose to spend time with."

  "Sorry to disappoint you."

  "Did I say I was disappointed? Pleasant company doesn't always need the potential of a romp in the bedroom."

  "Glad you feel that way. I can use some distraction right now."

  He gracefully stood and offered me a hand. I declined. But I did walk beside him on the way up the pier. The keeper tossed him some shorts and offered him a grin, nodding at me. "Find some company, Paul?"

  "Only for dinner." I was glad he didn't suggest it might be otherwise.

  "You have a good evening."

  "I plan on it." He saluted the keeper with three fingers and a tip of his head, then placed his fingers on my elbow.

  I stiffened and he dropped his hand. "Sorry. The tactile sense is sharper on land. It's habit to touch, while I'm here."

  "Don’t take it personally. Never been the touchy-feely sort of person. If my husband saw you with a hand on me he‘d either assume I hunted down the nearest good-looking, half-dressed male I could find, to make him jealous, or that I’d taken on a client, on our honeymoon.”

  “Client?”

  “I’m a private investigator.”

  “So what kind of things do you investigate?”

  “Pretty much anything, missing items, missing persons, cheating spouses. If somebody has the money to pay me, I‘ll usually take their case. Can‘t go against my moral compass though.”

  “So what are you doing now?”

  I winked and grinned. “My husband.”

  “He’s a lucky man.”

  “There are people that would argue that point, but yeah, lady luck tripped all over herself putting us together. So tell me about yourself. Are there houses under the water or do you live in simulated reefs. Do you eat seafood raw or do you have some way to cook underwater?”

  He touched my elbow to guide me into an Italian restaurant. The moment we were seated he said, “We have a row of houses along the outer edge of the dome. And food is more often raw than not, although one of our more inventive members did create a stove that heats off a charm. Of course pretty much the only way to cook anything is to boil it.”

  We ordered supper and traded stories. I had fun, until Terry walked in with a woman on his arm. He stopped and stared at me, then headed toward our table. I groaned and shrank down in my chair even though it was far too late to disappear.

  Chapter 9

  “Hello, Frankie,” Terry canted his head as though asking a dozen questions with that greeting.

  “Terry.” I nodded at him.

  “Where’s Harrison?” Apparently he had no problem being more direct than hinting at questions.

  “I really couldn’t tell you. You’ll be happy to know, we had our first fight.”

  “I don’t know why you’d think that would make me happy. Who’s your friend?”

  “Paul. I just met him down at the pier. He’s a local. Paul, this is Terry Dunston, my husband’s cousin.”

  “Like it or not, that makes me your cousin too. This is Melanie. She’s here on vacation from District Nine-Six-nine.” Melanie had black hair and green eyes that didn’t look quite right together but she had the hourglass figure Terry seemed to go for.

  I extended a hand to her. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “And I, you.” She took my hand, her eyes went to my shoulder holster. A normal woman would have met my eyes, then gawked at Paul. She coolly assessed me and I made a mental note to speak to Terry about his choice of women.

  “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way,” I said, “no, you are not welcome to sit.”

  “Does Harrison know where you are?”

  “No. Good night, Terry.”

  He looked at his date, then back at me and with a shrug, made his way to an empty table.

  “You don’t like him?”

  “Nothing specific, but no, not my favorite person in the world.”

  I watched Terry order drinks, then take out his cell phone. “And there goes the call. Took him about thirty seconds longer than I figured.” I stared down at my nearly empty plate. “Care to walk?”

  “Love to.”

  I looked for the waitress but Paul said, “Supper’s on me.”

  “Uhh…I watched you come out of the water stark naked. Where do you carry money?”

  He smiled. “I’m a regular.” He stood from the table and offered me a hand. We passed the waitress and he said, “Put it on my tab, Callie.”

  “Got it, Paul.” She smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  As we strolled out the door I said, “She a good friend?”

  “Not particularly, but most of the humans who work the boardwalk know that we enjoy being touched.”

  I laughed, “So I guess that line works out well for you most of the time?”

  “More often than not.” He grinned. “Of course most women are far more impressed by the fact that I’m a genetic mutation than you were.”

  “When you are one, genetic mutation just isn’t that impressive.”

  “You’re a genetic mutation?”

  “So my father tells me.”

  “He experimented on you?”

  “Nope, like you, the experiments were several generations back.”

  “So what are you? I would never have guessed you were anything other than a normal human.”

  “A lifetime of hiding what I am, makes it easy. Besides it’s more an absence than anything you could notice.” The crisp scent of a thunder storm assailed my nostrils. Harrison was nearby.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  The boardwalk was empty behind us. I focused on Paul. “I guess it’s not such a big thing…the worst has already happened. It’s still hard overcoming an instinct instilled in you since birth. I‘m a null.” It felt peculiar actually saying that to someone. But if the most powerful mage alive already knew, what was the point of hiding?

  “No fucking way. Poppy said you were special. Great-grandpa didn’t think any nulls survived the purges.”

  “Purges? My father admitted mages killed us fairly aggressively, but he didn’t call it that. Of course since he’s a mage, he probably wouldn’t.” Harrison was so close I glanced around again. Or maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe I just wanted him to be near.

  “Your father’s a mage?”

  “Hmm…“ Snatched back from my distraction, I said, “Did I neglect that detail?”

  “You said he was head of research at a university. You didn’t say it was MNU. So if they tried killing off nulls how are you here?”

  “They realized how well we worked to combine and improve their own talents, so we became more useful than threat. And then we realized we could just walk away from them. Once we got out of District Seven and blended with the general population we became invisible. Nobody can see or feel our magic in use.”

  “I assume you avoid mages?”

  “Like the plague. All the way up until I fell in love with one.” I resisted the urge to turn and look when I heard footsteps.

  “And he knows what you are?”

  “Yes.” Harrison spoke from behind us. “She’s the most beautiful, talented, amazing, woman alive. And she’s my wife.”

  I stretched a hand back toward him. “You must have been nearby.”

  He clutched my fingers. Raised them to his lips. “I went to eat seafood, as we agreed. I had rather hoped you’d join me.”

  “That was hours ago.”

  “I waited on the bench outside.”

  “There are at least five different seafood restaurants on the boardwalk.”

  “I
went to the one you last mentioned wanting to try. I’m sorry, Frankie. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I do. I took off because I didn’t want to fight with you when I was pretty sure it wasn’t you speaking.”

  “That, you’re going to have to explain.”

  “Remember your father’s phone call?”

  “Sure.”

  “The noises in the background…tapping and scraping?”

  “Yesss…I assumed somebody was cooking something.”

  “Remember when you became Daniel Bromer?”

  “Of course.”

  “Who turned you into Mr. Bromer?”

  Harrison’s eyes darted to Paul.

  “It’s all right,” I told him. “I trust Paul.”

  “But H--but…” Confusion flickered across Harrison’s face, his hand rubbed his jaw. “I…”

  “Can’t?”

  “My friend is a perfectly untalented human. You willingly gave him blood to bind you, and he did. Remember the sound of him mixing all his ingredients in a mortar, the tapping of the pestle as he broke up the solids. The scrape as he mixed things together. Imagine what a man like your father could do with the right ingredients. I’m only guessing, but I believe he was mixing something he hoped would snare me. Just because I’m immune to a mage’s energy, doesn’t mean I can’t be trapped. It‘s got to be why he was baiting me on that call. He wanted my voice.”

  “I thought the two of you just enjoyed sniping at each other. Oh my god, do you think that would work?”

  “I never studied old magic. I don’t think he could make it work long distance like that, because it would still require his energy to complete the spell, but I’m not impervious to ingesting something.”

  “You can’t just turn it off? I don’t want it to come between us.”

  “I think you’ve already overcome it, or we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

  “But that’s not one of my talents.”

  “No. It might have been a weak first effort. Or like your hair, your body may consider it an unnatural change and not allow it. Which would be good because that codicil would probably also protect me.”