by A. L. Knorr
No. I decided they weren’t. Whatever magic Gabriela had done with her paints had created a different kind of face. I was a portrait of myself, almost a caricature. Swallowing, I glanced up at Gabriela where she was standing nervously at my elbow, looking into the mirror at her handiwork. Maybe it was okay that I didn’t look like myself. After all, no one at the party would know my true identity except for Jozef. I would be the only siren in the room, disguised as a human, or maybe an Atlantean. I didn’t know how many of each would be in attendance, but most certainly I would be the only mermaid.
I swallowed down any doubts I had about wearing paint and accepted that for the night of the party, I could pretend to be someone else. I could pretend to be human. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done it before.
“It’s perfect,” I said.
Nineteen
Jozef had called the event his family was hosting a party, but as we walked through the massive double doors leading to the ballroom, I realized that it would have been more accurate to call it a ball. We’d just finished our elaborate dinner, served in a room next to the ballroom at four very long tables. The number of people seemed even larger as they milled about and stood in small groups on the parquet floor.
The silk-covered walls were decorated with ornately framed mirrors, many of which looked to be gilded with gold leaf. Chandeliers and oil paintings and portraits of aristocratic men and women added more ambience and wealth. A grand piano in one corner murmured soft classical background music, the pianist barely visible––just the balding wisps of gray hair could be seen over the sheet music. A small orchestra was arranged around the grand piano but none of the musicians were playing yet. I didn’t think anyone felt like dancing, not with such full stomachs.
Jozef bent to whisper in my ear, pointing out the aristocrats and politicians in the group and making me laugh with his cheeky gossip.
“That’s Mrs. Emily Pierre van Ermengem,” he said, not pointing but clearly indicating with his eyes the woman in a short, snow-white cape trimmed with ermine over a red satin gown. “Notice how her face doesn’t move?”
I had been looking at the red jewels encrusting the hem of her spectacular dress, but at Jozef’s words my gaze shot up to the woman’s equally spectacular face. She was a honey blonde, with a long neck and dark doe-eyes lined with thick lashes. Her petal-pink lips were a perfect heart shape, and her eyebrows were thick and dark, arching over those huge dark orbs. She was listening to the man at her side, their heads tilted close together. He said something funny and she burst out laughing, displaying perfect white teeth. Though she’d laughed, her eyes did not crinkle, her brow did not wrinkle, and her cheeks remained perfectly smooth––like a mask.
It was true, her face did not have any folds or shadows, though I wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t pointed her out. “You’re right, why doesn’t it move?”
She was very beautiful, but now that Jozef had brought her lack of facial movement to my attention, I couldn’t stop staring and for the wrong reason. Now she seemed like something at an exhibition.
“Her son isolated a crystal toxin from a bacterium called Clostridium botulinum, which can cause a paralytic illness.” Jozef stood just behind me and spoke quietly into my ear, one hand at my waist. “He was able to isolate it and now uses it privately to freeze the muscles in the face which lead to wrinkles forming in the skin. Emily was one of his first patients.”
“She voluntarily has bacteria injected into her face?” I was sure Jozef must be tricking me.
“Just the toxin, not the bacteria. She is nearly one hundred years old. When they finally get permission to go public with it, she’ll be an excellent spokesperson. Don’t you think?”
I just nodded my head. How much the world had changed, and yet, in some ways, not at all. Women had always gone to great lengths to preserve their beauty; it was just the first time I’d heard of anyone injecting something into their face to achieve this end.
“Is that her husband?” My gaze drifted to the man who was making her laugh.
“Oh no, her husband is over there.” Jozef directed me to look to where an elderly gentleman was seated on a velvet chair, perched on the end. He seemed in deep and serious discussion with another younger man. “The man she’s talking with is a chemist named Schlatter who is working on an artificial sweetener that he discovered by accident during an experiment.”
Jozef continued to point out people and describe their considerable accomplishments, most of which involved developing a new technology or inventing something obscure but life-changing such as something called an ATM where people could withdraw money from a hole in the wall. My mind was buzzing. The things people had invented, the changes that had been made since the last time I’d been part of human society, were too incredible to be believed.
“Why are there so many inventors here?” I asked, taking a sip of my own champagne.
“They’re friends of my father’s, mostly,” Jozef explained, pulling me close to him as a group of people passed by us. “My father gets all the periodicals and white papers from the best universities, laboratories, and think tanks in the world.”
“Think tanks?” I blinked in surprise.
“Not actual tanks,” Jozef chuckled. “It just means a body of experts. He likes to know what everyone is working on and when he finds someone with something he thinks is promising, he funds them.” Jozef bobbed his head in a way that indicated there were strings attached to the funding. “For a percentage of the profits, naturally. My great-grandfather was very good at nosing out opportunities. He passed his knowledge on to my grandfather, and my grandfather passed it on to my father.”
“And you? Will you be next?”
Jozef shifted his shoulders inside his dinner jacket, a little uncomfortable. “The investing nose passed to my sister, who is even now on a plane to London to meet with some researchers. I’m more interested in the natural world.”
The sheer number of intelligent minds and accomplished inventors assembled in the ballroom kept me engaged and amazed for hours that evening. Then I realized I hadn’t yet seen Claudius. My stomach did a nervous turn at the thought. Jozef had told me I had nothing to worry about, but how could I not be apprehensive when it came to Jozef’s father?
I really hadn’t cared much what the families of my previous mates thought of me because I’d been under the power of the siren mating cycle. I had one powerful biological need driving my actions––find a mate and have offspring. If my mate’s family didn’t like the union, that was their problem.
With Jozef, things were different. My love for him was not driven by a desire to make children with him, but by a genuine desire to be with him and near him. He made me laugh, made me feel good, and most importantly of all, I liked who I was when I was with him. If Jozef’s father didn’t like me, it made me sad for Jozef, who I knew would suffer emotionally because two people he cared about weren’t getting along. The idea of being caught in the middle wasn’t a nice one.
“Where is your father?” I turned to Jozef, my indigo gown swishing against my bare legs.
“He always arrives late to these things,” Jozef answered. “Sometimes he doesn’t come at all. He throws them as a sign of appreciation, and to ensure his network of high-functioning brains meets one another. I’m sure he’ll be along.” Jozef’s eyes cut to me, filling with concern. “I told you not to worry about him, Bel. He’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
“The youngest Drakief, what a pleasure,” said a smooth and oily voice from behind me.
Turning, I saw a tall, slender man in a top hat and a long coat with tails. He must have recently come in from the outdoors, as small beads of rain had gathered on the shoulders of his jacket. He leaned heavily on a cane of dark wood topped with a silver knob.
“Hello, Professor,” said Jozef, taking the man’s outstretched hand. “You sneaked in through the back again, did you?”
“I am rather lazy that way.” The professor doffed his top hat
in one silky motion and set it on the head of a passing waiter carrying a tray of drinks. Upon feeling the hat, the waiter stopped and waited patiently for the man to take off his outer wear, shifting the cane from one hand to the other. The professor lay his wet coat over the waiter’s shoulder and patted it.
“Thank you, my good man,” he said. Then he turned to me and reached for my hand. “And who might this vision of loveliness be?”
“This is Bel Novak,” Jozef said. “Bel, this is Loukas Vasilakis.”
“Let me guess, another brilliant inventor,” I said as he took my hand and bent low over it.
Loukas let out a belly laugh which sounded a bit forced to my ears. “More of a researcher, my dear.” As he straightened, his gaze fell on my aquamarine and his face seemed to freeze. His eyes locked on my gem for several moments before his eyes slid up my neck, over my lips, and on my eyes. My stomach sank and the sensation of déjà vu chilled my skin.
“My, what an interesting piece of jewelry you have there,” Loukas drawled.
To my horror, Loukas lifted a thin-fingered hand and reached for my necklace. It was all I could do not to step away, but the sudden and warm presence of Jozef’s hand on the small of my back stilled me.
Loukas picked up the gem, brushing my skin with his fingertips, then turned his hand open and let the aquamarine sit on his palm.
“Such a simple but elegant stone. It brings out the blue of your eyes so fetchingly. How funny it was your chosen adornment for this evening,” Loukas said, his voice crawled over me like a pair of ghostly fingers.
I kept my face neutral but it took effort.
“It’s become so interesting to me, this particular rock.” He looked me in the eye again. “Perhaps we have some tastes in common. Perhaps we are,” he tilted his head and his eyes narrowed just a little, “kindred spirits.”
The way he was looking at me made me feel we were anything but kindred. I could not stand him handling my property any longer and my hand went to my throat of its own accord, pulling the gem from his grasp by the chain. My own gaze felt flinty. “How beautiful this world would be,” I replied, “if we could find a way to be kindred.”
His eyes became hooded as he let his hand fall to his side.
I became aware of more than a few glances in our direction, and a few people were whispering behind their hands.
“I look forward to getting better acquainted with you, Miss Novak,” Loukas said, though his tone suggested that an acquaintance with him wouldn’t at all be to my liking. With a last look that promised this interaction was not likely to be our last, Loukas moved laboriously away into the crowd. The sound of his cane on the floor was a sharp retort with every step.
“Jozef?” My hand reached for his though my eyes felt locked on Loukas’s back before he disappeared into a cloud of colored taffeta and tiaras.
“I’m here,” he said, quietly.
“How many of your father’s friends are human,” I turned my eyes up to his, “and how many are Atlantean?”
Jozef looked surprised that I would ask. “We are nearly all Atlantean, Bel. There are only a few humans in my father’s circle.” He let out a slow sigh and I felt his fingers tighten around mine. “I feel I should apologize for my father’s prejudice; it’s one I find childish. Even after you explained about the war between us all those millennia ago, I find it so ridiculous that I can’t really believe the ancient war and his feelings are associated. I’m very sorry, Bel. Please take some comfort in knowing that I do not share these feelings.”
“No need to apologize,” I whispered, squeezing his fingers back.
A cocktail of apprehension and anxiety had filled my belly, in spite of Jozef’s comforting words. On land, I couldn’t tell an Atlantean from a human, but it was clear that if an Atlantean was really paying attention, they could figure out I was Mer without too much effort—even under the layers of Gabriela’s make-up.
More and more gazes were being directed my way. The interaction with Loukas made me feel that those looks were tinged with hostility, but was I imagining it? Looking back at those who put cold eyes on me, I realized that they weren’t eyeing me in a mistrustful manner. Their gazes were directed at my gemstone. Some of them appeared to be squinting, or discreetly moving to afford themselves a better view.
My hands drifted up of their own accord, and found the clasp of my chain at the back of my neck. Taking the aquamarine off, I slipped it into my clutch and out of sight. I was bound to mingle with many more of Claudius’s friends as the ball wore on, and I didn’t want the gemstone to become a liability. I wanted these people to talk to me like I was one of them. How else could I broker peace between our nations unless I could get to know them as they were among themselves? But my gem made that impossible.
“Are you all right?” Jozef asked, after he’d watched me take off my necklace and hide it.
“I’m fine. Just wondering why my stone makes people so twitchy.”
Jozef’s face relaxed into something like regret. “There are prejudices that run deep all over the world. It can’t be entirely unexpected, silly though it may seem. Look at how colonization of North America two hundred years ago has left a legacy of tension.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I took comfort in the fact that I had time to learn. It was clear that I had an overwhelming amount of history to catch up on. The world had changed while I’d been living peacefully in the sleepy waters of Okeanos.
When Claudius finally joined the party, the way he was heralded made him seem like royalty. In fact, part of me wondered if that’s what Claudius was, among his own kind.
Jozef and I were waltzing when the band suddenly stopped playing the waltz, got to their feet, and began to play an anthem heavily dominated by the brass instruments. It was loud, pompous, and formal. Everyone who had been dancing stopped and began to clap, straining to see over the crowd as Claudius’s presence was announced.
“Claudius Araneus Heracleon Drakief, Lord Commander, Savior and Knight of the great nation of Atlantis,” the doorman bellowed, teeth bared and sparkling. He looked fit to have a heart attack from happiness and launched into a spasm of energetic applause.
I blinked at this ponderous title. Jozef looked down at me and winked as he clapped. Leaning over he whispered, “I know, it’s a bit much.”
“Savior and Knight? Lord Commander?” I whispered back. “What does that make you?”
“A little weak at the knees under the weight of expectation,” he replied through the side of his mouth, then laughed.
“Do they really have expectations that you’ll ‘pick up your father’s mantle’ and all that? I mean, you’re not even in the same line of work.”
“As he reminds me on a regular basis.” Jozef’s words might have sounded bitter except that I already knew Claudius had paved the way for Jozef’s chosen career in oceanography.
The icy blast I received as Claudius’s gaze found his son and then me standing beside him was completely personal. He loved his son dearly, that much was apparent. I supposed I should have been thankful that Jozef and I didn’t have to meet secretively, but it was difficult to feel gratitude when I felt like all Claudius wanted was to gouge my eyeballs out, and for no reason other than a centuries-old conflict that neither of us had anything to do with.
I suddenly realized, as we stood there applauding Claudius, that if I could help Jozef’s father to see that peace was possible between our people, then I would win all of his people, too. A man who was this popular, this well respected, and seen somehow as a savior and Lord Commander––he’d be the perfect place to start.
Claudius addressed the crowd briefly, welcoming everyone to his home and thanking them for their friendship. He was genial and comfortable in the limelight, but he didn’t bore the crowd with a long-winded speech. Rather, he signaled to the band to take up their waltz and to the crowd to continue dancing and making merry.
Jozef took me in his arms as the waltz began and we
commenced whirling around the room.
A familiar face passed by––a smiling woman whose features seemed familiar. As Jozef spoke in my ear about his ambitions for his work and his latest discoveries, I kept an eye out for a glimpse of this face.
I saw her again, smiling up into the face of her partner. Thick dark curls nested at her neck and a green feather fixed in her hair arched gracefully up over her head and swayed as they danced. Once I’d seen the feather, I couldn’t lose her.
Frowning, I was loathing to tear my eyes from her face, but had to as Jozef and I whirled about.
“You seem distracted, my love,” Jozef said. “Shall I get you a glass of champagne? Perhaps time for a rest?”
I sent him a smile. “Thank you, that sounds good. I’ll wait just here.” I gestured to one of the red velvet chairs against the wall and stepped out of the milling crowd. Jozef kissed my hand and headed for the bar.
Now able to look for the woman in earnest, I found the green feather and homed in on her face. She was tantalizingly familiar, but evaded being identified, no matter how much I watched. The way her lips moved when she spoke, just a little crookedly. She was lovely. Older, with laugh lines and a few streaks of gray in her brunette hair.
By chance, she looked over her partner’s shoulder to see me staring and the two of us locked eyes.
I smiled and waved, hoping she would come over and introduce herself––putting me out of my misery.
Her smile slowly dissolved as her brown eyes stayed glued to mine. Her partner said something to her and she didn’t answer at first, so intent she was on me, and I on her.
Suddenly, she whispered something in her partner’s ear, gave him a smile, and left him standing on the dance floor alone. She turned her back to me and made her way toward one of the many sets of open doors leading onto the terrace and gardens.
