Flotsam and Fool

by Amber D Sistla

  Flotsam and Fool

  By Amber D. Sistla

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  FLOTSAM AND FOOL

  Copyright © 2011 by Amber D. Sistla

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Zephyr Publishing

  www.ambersistla.com

  **********

  Nen scrambled across the dunes. He should have left long ago at the first signs of the storm's approach.

  A squawking family of petrels circled above a rocky outcrop. Nen paused to consider them. They'd probably found an injured seal and were waiting for it to die. He studied the sky; lightning flicked across the charcoal grey clouds. Dangerous, but there might be enough time to investigate what the petrels were so interested in. He poked his limp scavenging bag; definitely enough time, he decided.

  Nen spotted a good-sized branch and grabbed it. He hefted the makeshift club a few times, then jogged in the direction of the birds. Their raucous calls surrounded him as they flew at him, trying to claw at his face. He swung his stick wildly. A few petrels screeched in pain as his club connected, and then they all retreated to a safe distance, encircling him.

  The wind scoured him with sand, and Nen winced as it stung his scratches, souvenirs from the petrels. He turned to look at his prize and froze. A merling. He'd seen a merling once or twice before from a great distance, a blur that appeared just at the edge of his vision. This one was so close he could touch her.

  Couldn't he? Nen knelt by her side and reached out. Thunder boomed across the ocean. He snatched his hand back. Probably best not to touch her yet, Nen decided and then studied her profile. She's so perfect. He was surprised at how human, how beautiful she looked, more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen in the king's capital.

  She was smaller than he'd imagined a merling would be. A few braids were fixed about her head, but most of her white hair mixed with the sand in tangled disarray. She wore a tunic, patterned with pearls and small pieces of coral and woven from a fiber that he wasn't familiar with. It was open at the sides of her waist, and he saw her gills flutter. The silver scales on her arms and face were so tiny they were almost invisible. The scales were larger on her tail and flowed down to a translucent fin.

  Nen frowned when he noticed jagged rips in the fin and scales. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

  The merling stirred. She looked at him with eyes the mercurial grey of the ocean beneath stormy clouds, eyes that displayed intelligence and compassion despite the pain that shrouded them.

  Drowning in her gaze, Nen's breath caught in his throat.

  She groaned, exposing her teeth.

  Nen stumbled back from the double row of needlelike incisors. He started to inch away then stopped. She would die if she didn't get to the ocean before the storm hit. "I'll help you."

  She gestured with one webbed hand, as if to beckon the ocean closer, and then fainted.

  Nen looked up at the sky; lightning flicked the ocean and waves lashed the shoreline. Taking a deep breath, his trembling hands eased underneath her. Slippery with the oil that gave her scales their sheen, she started to slide from his grasp. He tightened his grip. She looked so vulnerable. "I'll protect you."

  The merling didn't move.

  Nen struggled to a standing position. She was heavier than she looked. He waded into the ocean; the waves buffeted him. He choked on mouthfuls of seawater but didn't loosen his grip. Now what? The water surged over them both, and he struggled to keep upright.

  A hand shot out of the water and seized his arm. Another merling, covered with black and yellow stripes, emerged and pulled at the silver merling in Nen's arms.

  Nen hesitated. She's my responsibility.

  Stripy growled. He flexed the claws of one hand in front of Nen's face. He pointed to the silver merling, then to himself, and nodded. He pointed at Nen and made a slashing movement.

  Nen understood. I don't belong. He loosened his grip.

  Stripy grabbed the wounded merling. He flipped his tail and doused Nen in water.

  Nen spluttered. By the time he rubbed the water out of his eyes, all traces of the merlings were gone. A huge wave crested over him. He clawed his way out of the ocean, choking and gasping while the waves nipped at his heels.

  He wheezed on the beach, rain pelting his face. Nen looked at his empty hands. Time to go; past time to go. He didn't belong here.

  ***

  The tourist fingered the ring with an expectant look.

  Nen struggled to provide a glib answer. "Found it on the beach. Looks real nice." He kept a smile plastered on his face.

  The tourist dropped the ring with a shrug and disappeared into the crowd.

  Tez leaned over and pinched Nen's arm. "Boss, what's wrong? People could never resist buying something you told them a story about, now they can't resist leaving. 'Looks real nice.'" Tez's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What is going on? One bad day happens to everyone now and then. Two bad days, possible. But three? Three bad days in a row, people start to talk about how maybe you don't have what it takes anymore."

  Nen pressed his palms against his eyes and rubbed, trying to rub the image of Silver away. Grey eyes dominated his mind's eye. He opened his eyes and folded his hands across his chest, avoiding Tez's searching gaze. "It's nothing."

  "Nothing? Nothing? The gang depends on you, believes in you. But if you don't sell their stuff, Lennie's going to get them one by one." Tez gestured across the street. "Look at her over there, already working on Vik. When she gets them, where will your cut go?" Tez didn't wait for an answer. "To Lennie. You'll be just another scrounger again. Do you remember what it's like to only have your haul to sell? Or are you planning on joining her gang?"

  "Nonsense. I'm a boss, not a kid. Besides, Lennie couldn't sell food to a starving man."

  "Don't underestimate her. She's been itching to expand her territory, and your 'nothing' is giving her the perfect opportunity. Just imagine: she takes your gang and your beaches."

  Nen's shoulders slumped. "It won't come to that. I'm just coming down with something is all."

  "You've never been sick a day in your life." Tez glanced quickly around and then lowered his voice. "Why don't you go see Aradia?"

  Nen flicked his hand. "That old witch. What does she know anyway?"

  "You know she doesn't like to be called a witch. None of that has ever been proven." Tez leaned close, whispering in Nen's ear. "But there are rumors. . . " He jerked away, keeping careful watch on the king's guards that had just arrived in the square. "She'll fix whatever is wrong with you, help you with any problems that you might have." He rolled his eyes in Lennie's direction.

  Nen resisted the urge to close his eyes. His fingers drove into the sand beside him. He gripped a handful and watched it dribble through his fingers. The tighter he gripped the faster it flowed. He stared at his empty hand then slowly unclenched it. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should see Aradia."

  "Yeah, maybe. Just go and get fixed up quick." Tez looked across the street and glared at Lennie.

  Lennie must've sensed it; she glanced across the street and winked at Tez.

  Tez pounded the sand with his fist. "You got a nice thing going here, Boss. Don't mess it up."

  Nen left Tez in charge of the wares. He skirted the edges of the bazaar, not in the mood for conversation. He hiked along the road, kicking up small clouds of dust in his wake. Aradia would fix his problem, would fix that Lennie, he kept telling himself. His feet slowed to a stop. The ocean caught his gaze.

  Nen drifted off the road and stumbled to the water's edge. Storm clouds draped the ocean in grey. Grey eyes, grey e
yes. He waded into the water. The waves pushed against him, denying him entrance and knocking him down.

  Nen choked on the salty water and dragged himself back to the beach. He flopped on his back and looked at the sky. Aradia had to help him, he thought and then pushed up to continue his trek.

  Aradia's lop-sided shack looked like it would collapse in a strong breeze. Nen strode toward the door, stopped, then retreated like a wave.

  The eighth time he tried to enter a raspy voice sounded from behind. "That's it, boy. I think you'll make it all the way in this time."

  Nen jumped. He saw Aradia perched on a nearby dune and wondered how long she'd been watching him.

  With her gnarled staff, Aradia pushed to a standing position. She settled a bag over a shoulder. "These old bones like to soak up the sun. I was sitting here when you came. Didn't notice me, eh boy? Got lots of troubles on your mind?"

  Nen shivered despite the sun's heat, remembering all the whispered tales about Aradia's powers. Could she read my mind?

  Aradia gave him a toothless grin. "Don't worry. I can't read your mind. You young folk like to think you've got all these new, wonderful thoughts, but they're all the same. Same as your pa's and you grandpa's thoughts. And once you get to be my age it's easy enough to figure what you young things are thinking by the look on your face." She waddled to the door and held it open to usher him inside.

  Nen glanced at the gloom and almost turned back, but the thought of grey eyes urged him in.

  Aradia dragged a seat next to the window where the sunlight streamed in to light the shack. She motioned for him to sit.

  Nen made his way to the seat, nudging rubbish away with each step. Spider webs hung from the ceiling and clung to his face. With a shudder, he flung the webs away then looked up and saw a wizened face in a jar. His mouth dried; the walls were lined with shelves covered with jars. He scurried to the seat, heedless of garbage.

  Aradia scrutinized him until he began to fidget. "So what can old Aradia do for you?"

  "I need something. Some people say you can do things."

  Aradia cocked her head. "Can't we all? You'll have to be more specific, boy. What ails you?"

  "I need a potion. A magic potion."

  Aradia's straightened in her chair. Her expression reminded Nen of the look the petrels had given him. "Unlicensed magic is punishable by death." She relaxed and leaned back. "You don't look like one of the king's enforcers. Perhaps I can help you after all. What exactly do you want?"

  "I want to be a merling."

  Aradia tsked at him. "You don't want that. A fine, strapping, young lad like yourself. Tell you what, how about a love potion? Or a get-rich potion? Eh, that's better isn't it? You can always buy the love with riches, but you can't get rich on love."

  Nen trembled at the laughter in her voice. "No, I want to be a merling. If you can't do it, just say so. You don't need to mock me." He jumped up.

  Aradia waved him back down. "No need to get feisty. Of course, I know how to do it." She looked at him; sadness settled across her face. "You looked a merling in the eye, didn't you?"

  Not trusting his voice, Nen nodded.

  "Don't you young folk ever listen to warnings anymore?"

  "Listen? What warnings?"

  "Are you telling me you don't know the story of the Maiden and the Merling?"

  Nen shrugged. "Everyone knows that old tale. The maiden looked into the merling's eyes, and enchanted, followed him home. . ." He looked at her in horror.

  "And her body washed ashore the next morning." Aradia supplied the ending Nen couldn't voice.

  Nen felt faint and held onto the edge of his seat for support. "It's not like that. She . . . I . . .Please, just give me the merling potion. Is it hard to do?"

  "It's not the doing that's hard." Aradia gave him a long, hard look. "You are in the body that nature gave you, it has a strength in it that I can draw on. To change it to something else is easy enough. Painful, but straightforward. A changeling form is magic-made. It doesn't have the flexibility to change or ability to recover from a change that a natural born body does. If you go for more than a few days in your changeling form, four days tops, it becomes irreversible."

  "I don't care. I need to be where she is."

  "She doesn't love you."

  "It doesn't matter."

  Aradia shook her head. "It's just the enchantment talking."

  "Then give me a body that won't drown when I can't fight the enchantment anymore and follow her to her home. Because I can't forget her. She's all I think about."

  "I have a potion of forgetfulness."

  Forgetfulness? Things would go back the way they were before he saw her. He would be in control again. Lennie wouldn't get his beaches or his gang. But to forget about Silver? To forget the look they shared? To forget how it felt to hold her in his arms? "No."

  "Boy, it's just--"

  "The enchantment talking, so you say. But I don't want to forget her. Something happened between us, something more than an enchantment. Every day I sit on the ocean's edge, longing to be with her." Nen's voice dropped to a strained whisper. "Please, help me."

  Aradia sat for long moments without talking. "You have a merling scale?"

  "Yes." He'd found the scale stuck on his shirt; it must have gotten snagged on it when he struggled to return Silver to the sea.

  Aradia sighed. "Of course you do. Give it to me. Come back tomorrow, and the potion will be ready." Her voice changed, flattened. "Now, about my fee."

  Nen looked up, surprised by her tone. A cloud passed over the sun, and the room darkened. Outside, the gulls ceased their crying. Goosebumps sprouted on his arms.

  Aradia watched Nen with an impenetrable expression. "I'm flexible. What do you prefer? Your soul signed away with your own blood? Or giving me your first-born child?"

  Nen's blood chilled in his veins. His heart felt like it was expanding in his chest, crushing his lungs and pushing up through his throat. He tried to speak but only managed a few strangled squeaks.

  Aradia's lips quivered. Then she laughed, full-bellied, bent over, lank hair brushing the floor, uncontrollable laughter. She gasped for air and managed short bursts of speech. "Oh goodness. You should have seen. Seen your face. Goodness." She wiped the tears from her face. "I haven't laughed so much in ages. Don't worry about the payment for this one. I won't take your money. I'll put it on the king's tab." She chortled and poked Nen in the ribs. "The king's tab!"

  Nen fled, her laughter echoing in his ears.

  ***

  Nen knelt near the water's edge, clutching the small jug. Sea lions basked in the sun; fool, fool, they seemed to bark at him. He ignored them. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the stopper from the jug and drained the contents. He gagged a moment on the rotten taste, then swallowed it all down.

  Nen looked at his hands; nothing happened. Had Aradia tricked him and given him the forgetfulness potion after all? A wave broke over his foot. His body melted. He screamed until his voice was hoarse, and then he blacked out.

  Nen stretched, eyes closed, and wondered if he'd really drunk the potion or just had a nightmare about it. He opened his eyes and screamed, or at least, he tried to scream. I'm drowning. Water flooded his mouth. He thrashed around, and his tail swished awkwardly, banging him into the ocean floor.

  Tail? Nen looked at his golden-brown scaled hands. His racing heart eased. He flexed his webbed fingers, startled when claws extended. This isn't so bad after all. He reached inside his mouth to explore the double rows of pointed teeth.

  Nen tried to push himself off the ocean floor, but unable to coordinate with his tail bruised himself on the rocks. With a giant heave, he pushed himself aloft and hobbled into the ocean depths.

  ***

  Nen stopped to catch his breath; his gills flapped rapidly. He pressed a fist to his stomach to mute its growling and tried to calculate how long he'd been swimming, but he'd lost all sense of time. The ocean extended in all directions; a darker dark he knew wa
s down, a lighter dark was up--that encompassed what he'd learned about his new home. I'm never going to find her. Are the four days already over? He tried to hug his knees to his chest, belatedly remembering he didn't have knees anymore; the movement sent him spinning head over tail.

  Nen's gyrations slowed to a stop. Dizzy from a combination of spinning and hunger, he had a hard time focusing his eyes. He didn't see the shark approach until it was close enough for him to see the hungry gleam of its eyes and the sharp points of its serrated teeth. For a surreal moment he envied the smooth flicks of its tail as it stalked him, and then panic gripped him.

  Nen kicked his tail wildly, almost managing to match the frenetic tempo of his heart. His arms flailed, trying simultaneously to pull at the distance and to push more ocean between the shark and himself.

  The shark circled him.

  Nen stilled. Let it be quick. He fixed the thought of Silver in his head.

  The shark's maw gaped, and then javelins protruded from its mouth.

  Nen spun around. Merling hunters had arrived. Most of the hunters chased the shark; a small group stayed and surrounded Nen.

  Merlings. Nen relaxed. They were merlings; he was a merling. He smiled at his rescuers. They were small, like the first merling he'd met. He'd kept his human length and was longer than all of them. They clicked at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the water choked his words.

  The merlings swirled around him; their clicking intensified. They prodded him with the blunt ends of their javelins. The shark hunters returned, dragging the shark carcass behind them. The merlings who had stayed with him spoke to a tiger-striped merling.

  Nen's eyes widened as the leader studied him. Their gazes locked in mutual recognition. His heart sank. The leader was Stripy.

  Stripy clicked to his followers. They grinned and spread into a larger circle. He swished his tail and sent Nen flying through the water. Another merling caught him and sent him flying in another direction. With their powerful tails, they bounced Nen back and forth in the circle.

  With a final, bored expression, Stripy sent Nen spinning in a circle. He pinched Nen's face in a hard grip, nails biting into the skin. With his other hand, he made the slashing, you-don't-belong-here gesture.