Submerging (Swans Landing)

by Norris, Shana

  A laugh from the water bubbled up next to me. I leaned closer to the surface, perched precariously over the edge of the boat. It was all I could do to keep from plunging my face in. I searched the shadows, my fingers digging into the wood.

  Then I saw her. The face appeared in the water in front of me, below the surface. She smiled up at me, looking as young and vibrant as she did in the photos in Grandma’s album back home. She looked alive and happy and she lifted a hand toward me.

  “Mama!” I called, reaching for her.

  “Sailor!” someone behind me shouted. But the shout sounded far away and muffled. It didn’t sound real. My mother, swimming in the water below me, that was real. She was calling me home, leading me to her.

  I stood in the rocking boat, pausing only long enough to kick off the sandals I wore, and then I dove, arcing through the night air, toward the roiling water below.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The water enveloped me, the current sucking me away from the boat and the two faces that peered over the side. One more rolling wave and darkness obscured my vision as I slipped deeper under the surface. The change overtook me when I opened my mouth and let water rush in. My bones cracked and popped as they reformed themselves. I had worn a dress specifically so I wouldn’t have to worry about clothing in the water, but I had to quickly slip out of my underwear, letting it float away in the current. The skin between my toes stretched like rubber bands as my feet fused and spread into a wide tail fin. Red and silver scales replaced the bronzed skin from my waist all the way down to my feet.

  I was the other me once again. Changing form always made me feel giddy, as if I was only truly myself once I was in the water and could be finfolk.

  The song was stronger now, wrapped all around me. I couldn’t see my mother anywhere and for a moment, it was just me, floating within the black sea.

  A splash and an explosion of bubbles signaled someone else’s arrival, but the water was too black to see the face of the person next to me.

  Then I saw her again, my mother swimming farther below us. I shouldn’t have been able to see her that far away in the dark water, but she created her own light, glowing somehow. A part of me knew it wasn’t real, that it was the effects of the song on my mind. The finfolk song made humans see what they wanted most. It was why people had believed for centuries that mermaid-like creatures could lure humans to their deaths through song. The humans became so entranced in what they saw they would do anything to get to it.

  I wasn’t fully finfolk, so the song affected me too.

  Even though I knew this, I also knew that the visions the song had given me before now had never looked as vibrant or as real as my mama looked right then. She was solid, not hazy like I’d always seen her. I could reach out and touch her, certain I’d feel actual skin if I did.

  I couldn’t let her get away. Not when she’d never been this real before.

  I dove deeper, following the glowing light of my mother as she darted through the water. I could almost swear I heard her laugh mixed into the song around me. She was quick and I had to swim hard to keep up with her. The current pushed me back, but I fought to reach her. She dove farther into the black depths of the ocean and my mind swirled with dizziness as exhaustion overtook me.

  My mama was now a barely visible glow in the darkness far below me. I reached toward her, calling out, but the only thing that left my mouth was a stream of bubbles.

  A hand grasped my arms under the armpits, snatching me up. I didn’t have the energy to fight, so I let myself be pulled toward the surface.

  Callum bobbed in the water next to me, his hair wet and stuck to his forehead. His shirt was soaked through and plastered to his shoulders.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth, but his outburst had taken me by surprise and I couldn’t find a response. He didn’t wait, but dove under the surface again. He returned a moment later, with a stunned-looking Josh at his side.

  “Are you two daftie?” Callum asked.

  “I saw my mother,” I said.

  Josh still looked confused and shook his head to clear water from his eyes. He was susceptible to the song’s power too and had probably seen a vision of his own that he wanted to follow.

  “You saw a figment of your own imagination,” Callum snapped. “You should know that by now. You know what that song does. What do you think happens to humans who try to find Hether Blether? They chase their desires deep into the ocean until they drown themselves.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We can’t drown. We’re finfolk, remember?”

  “Not fully,” Callum said, his eyes flashing angrily. “And that’s what you keep forgetting. Your human side makes you susceptible to fatigue. Or maybe you would have kept following that vision long enough until you were lost. Being finfolk doesn’t make you immortal.”

  I hated being scolded like a small child who had done a very bad thing. Josh seemed to recover quickly from the song’s effects and now both of them looked like they expected me to swim off again at any moment, their bodies tensed.

  “Fine,” I snapped, turning away from them as I let a wave swoop me up and then drop me back down. “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s get back in the boat and go.”

  “That would be a brilliant idea,” Callum growled, “except the boat is gone.”

  I spun around, looking at the darkness around us. The three of us tread water in a small circle in the middle of the dark ocean. The boat had disappeared within the blackness around us. I couldn’t see more than a couple feet in front of me.

  Josh sighed. “Now what do we do?”

  Callum lifted one hand from the water. He still gripped the twisted metal key. “We have the key. So we follow the song and swim.”

  Josh listened for a moment, then pointed. “It’s coming from that way.”

  Callum nodded. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The island appeared out of nowhere as the three of us swam and floated along the open black water. Thick fog swirled around us, obscuring the shape of the landmass, until my tail fin brushed sand and rocks below the surface.

  At last, I could stand on my legs again, leaving my finfolk form behind as I waded toward shore. Josh splashed at my side, his jeans now tattered shreds attached to the waistband still around his hips. Neither of us had thought to grab our bags when we dove from the boat, so there were no extra clothes to change into. Josh’s stony expression told me he had noticed this fact, even though he didn’t say a word.

  The beach was a mix of flat rocks and sand, but I collapsed onto the rough ground, trying to catch my breath. It had been a long swim and I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The faint hint of pink lit the eastern sky, signaling that it was almost dawn.

  “Where’s Callum?” Josh asked after a moment.

  I sat up, looking back toward the water. I thought I could see the shape of his head still bobbing among the waves not far from shore. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted his name.

  But he didn’t seem to be moving any closer to the beach.

  “What is he doing?” I grumbled. “Does he plan to swim back to Pierowall?”

  “If this is Hether Blether, he may not be able to come ashore,” Josh said. “He is banished.”

  “Where else does he expect to go?” I didn’t want to dive back into the water after swimming for so long, but I didn’t see any other option. I stalked into the crashing waves, letting the change overtake me as I swam toward Callum.

  He tread water where the land began to rise up from the ocean. His face was pale in the early morning light and his breathing was ragged.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “Come ashore.”

  Callum shook his head. “I vowed not to set foot on the island when I left five years ago.”

  “So what do you plan to do? Stay out here forever?”

  He looked over his shoulder, as if he expected the shores of Westray to materialize suddenly. When he turne
d back to me, his face still showed hesitation “If I come ashore, I’m subject to imprisonment,” he said. “Or something worse.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What did you do to get yourself banished anyway?”

  Callum looked toward the beach, where Josh still waited in the darkness. He looked almost convinced to come ashore, but not quite.

  “There is another problem aside from that,” he said.

  I sighed. “Which is?”

  “My leg,” Callum said. “The prosthetic came off while we swam. The current took it away before I could grab it.”

  Shame flooded my cheeks. I had forgotten about his leg. He was still able to swim, although he had lagged behind us.

  It was my fault he didn’t have his prosthetic anymore. Just like it was my fault that Josh and I didn’t have our bags. And my fault that the boat was gone.

  “I’ll help you walk,” I told him softly.

  Callum regarded me warily. “Do you really think you can hold me up?”

  “I’m stronger than I look,” I snapped. “Besides, what other choice do you have other than hanging out here forever?”

  Callum pressed his mouth into a tight line, but at last he turned toward the shore. I focused on the land and shed my finfolk form as I rose from the water, dripping and shivering in the cold air. I slipped Callum’s left arm over my shoulders and my right arm around his waist to help steady him in the crashing waves. He wore a loose pair of khaki pants, which were still intact.

  “You didn’t change form,” I said, my eyes widening.

  Callum smirked. “I told you, I’m not finfolk anymore.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t stop being finfolk.”

  “There is so much you don’t know about our people,” he told me.

  Josh met us at the edge of the water. “Need help?” he asked.

  “I got him,” I said, determined not to let anyone see how tired I already was from fighting the water as it rushed back against us. If this was penance for a foolish decision, I’d take it. It was another of a series of mistakes that had plagued my life.

  I helped Callum ease onto a rock and then sat down next to him.

  “So where are we?” Josh asked, looking around at the empty beach. The sand stretched behind us until it reached a thick grove of trees. There was no sign that the island was inhabited, no lights to lead the way and no one to meet us.

  “Hether Blether,” Callum said. “I expect we came ashore a few miles from the village. Which is a good thing.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because otherwise, the first greeting we would have had would have been at the end of a sentry’s spear. Which still isn’t out of the question.”

  “Where do we go from here?” Josh asked. “Which way is the village?”

  Callum nodded toward his right. “That way. Beyond the forest, along the shore.”

  I yawned. My muscles ached and my eyelids drooped closed. A night of swimming and no sleep had left me on the brink of exhaustion.

  “Can we take a nap first?” I asked.

  Callum looked grim. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  But I was already stretching out onto my back. “Just a few minutes. It won’t do us any good to walk into the village exhausted. We need to be alert, right?” I closed my eyes, letting the warm feeling of sleep wash over me.

  “We should get moving,” Josh said. But he too sounded tired and I didn’t hear any other protests as I finally fell into sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A sharp pain stabbed through my back and half-woke me from a deep sleep. I groaned and rolled over, squeezing my eyes shut at the morning light.

  Whatever it was poked me again, this time harder and in the shoulder.

  “Ow!” I pried my eyes open, staring up into the stern face of a man I didn’t know. He wore a loose knee-length blue robe tied closed at the waist with an embroidered green belt, and a string of seashells hung around his neck. In his hands was a long stick, topped with a sharp, pointed piece of metal. Judging from the way it was pointed at me, it had to be what had woken me.

  A quick glance around the beach showed that Josh was standing nearby, with a man in front of him also wielding a spear pointed at his chest. Callum still sat on the sand, but he was also being guarded.

  “Get up,” the man in front of me growled.

  I clambered to my feet, brushing sand from my hands. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Sentries,” Callum told me. The guard next to him poked his shoulder with his spear and Callum recoiled, scowling up at him. “I told you, I can’t walk. Do you expect me to hop through the forest like a rabbit?”

  The sentry scowled and then poked at Callum again. “Get up,” he said.

  I rushed toward Callum, pushing myself between him and the sentry. “He can’t walk. Can’t you see that?”

  “They know, Sailor,” Callum said. “They don’t care because they know who I am.”

  “You should not have come back,” the guard who had woken me said. “You know the sentence.”

  “Believe me, Artair, I’m not here because I want to be,” Callum mumbled.

  The guard, presumably Artair, glared even more, then pointed his spear at us. “Get up. This is the last time I will say it. After this, I will take care of you myself and save Domnall the trouble.”

  The look in the man’s eyes showed he wasn’t joking or making empty threats. I knelt and helped Callum to his feet, putting my arm around his waist again.

  “He needs a prosthetic,” I said as we started across the sand behind Artair. Josh fell into step next to us, and the other two guards took their places in the rear.

  “He will not have need of a prosthetic much longer,” Artair said, tossing the threat in his tone over his shoulder casually, as if he threatened to kill people every day. I gulped. Maybe around here, he did.

  Artair led us away from the beach and into the trees, down a narrow path almost entirely overgrown. It would have been easy to miss for the untrained eye.

  “Where are we going?” I whispered.

  “To see Domnall, most likely,” Callum answered. His body tensed under my hand, the muscles of his abdomen tight and twitching with each movement.

  “Who is he?” I asked.

  “The finfolk king,” Callum said in a grim tone, as if the words were a death sentence.

  The path wound through thick vegetation, and both Callum and I stumbled several times. At one point, his foot got caught in a vine on the ground. Of course none of the sentries offered help. Artair eyed us impatiently while Josh bent to free Callum’s foot.

  So far, finfolk weren’t impressing me with their hospitality.

  At last, we broke through the trees and came into a cleared stretch of beach. We stood at the bottom of sandy hills that rolled on into the distance around us. Small stone homes clustered together on the beach, parts of them immersed in the water that lapped onshore. A few larger buildings stood in the center of the village, including one that rose above the others and looked to be made of golden sand.

  It was in that direction the sentries led us. A few people—finfolk, I reminded myself—wandered through the village and they stopped to watch as we passed by. They all wore robes of different colors, both men and women, and they had long hair that they kept tied back. Most were curious, but some looked frightened. I heard one whisper Callum’s name to someone else and then the word spread throughout the crowd. More people came out of homes and shops to peer at us, their wide eyes locked on Callum.

  “This is...interesting,” Josh muttered.

  “Remember what I said,” Callum whispered. “Don’t let them know about your heritage. Use the Mooring name. It can protect you.”

  Something in Callum’s tone and the fact that we were being escorted under armed guard made me wary to find out what would happen if these people knew that Josh and I were part human.

  The building we were taken to looked almost like a castle, rising above the rest
of the village. As we drew closer, I could see it was made of golden sandstone and rock, and almost blended into the earth around it. A giant sandcastle, I thought. Dried starfish and seahorses dotted the outside walls and a huge heavy door stood open to allow a sea breeze in.

  Artair led us through the door and into a wide room. Tall windows stretched along the back wall, allowing light to stream in. Old, elaborately carved furniture was set throughout the room, heavy chairs and tables like I had seen in pictures of old castles. On the walls were paintings and woven tapestries, mixed with the wooden wheel from a ship and gleaming shields and swords.

  A man stood near one window, outlined by the sunlight. He turned at the sound of our footsteps.

  Artair paused and then bowed his head. “We found trespassers on the south side this morning. I believe you remember one of them.”

  The man’s eyes never left Callum’s as he stepped toward us. He had a scar across his face, from his right eye to his chin. Long blonde hair was left loose around his shoulders in wild waves.

  “Callum,” he growled. “Was I not clear what would become of you should you find your way back to this island?”

  Callum didn’t flinch at the tone in the man’s voice. “You were,” he said. “And yet, I came back anyway. I suppose that means you don’t have the authority you like to believe you do after all.”

  The man I assumed to be Domnall, the finfolk king, stepped toward us, his face twisted into something sinister. His blue eyes flickered toward Callum’s leg. “Perhaps you need to lose your other leg in order to remember what power I do have.”

  Callum stared back at him, his body tight against mine. I dug my nails into Callum’s hand.

  Finally, Domnall broke Callum’s gaze and looked at Josh and then at me. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What business do you have here?”

  “I’m Josh,” my brother said, stepping forward. He swallowed a moment, then said, “Josh Mooring. And this is my sister Sailor.” His voice didn’t waver on the false name.

  Domnall’s eyebrows rose. “Mooring? You are finfolk.”