Grasping the boy by his belt and collar, she whisked him out to sea with powerful flicks of her tail. Neesha assumed the stone would see to it that the human kept breathing, but hoped it wouldn’t.
When she thought they’d gone far enough, she surfaced and let him go. The boy sank briefly, then rose, spluttering and coughing. Neesha waited to see what he would do.
Fare gave a hoarse, involuntary cry as he tried to thrash away from the staring mermaid. Her yellow hair hung in ribbons, to cling to her naked shoulders, and even in his panic, Fare remembered the stories the older men had told him about lovelorn sea maidens. Surely if she’d just wanted that, she wouldn’t have dragged him out to sea. Maybe she wanted to watch him drown. His chest heaved as he coughed and struggled to stay afloat, and to fight down terror as he kept choking. He was drowning and sensed darkness closing in.
Suddenly he felt calm. The fear was still there, but less overwhelming, as if he’d felt it yesterday instead of just now. His arms and legs began to move in an organized way that brought his head above the waves. Still, the water’s cold leached his strength from him.
Without thinking, he grabbed the mermaid to keep himself from sinking, and she allowed it. Her eyes shone like a cat’s in the moonlight.
Looking into those staring eyes, he snapped, “What do you want?”
“You help,” she said, and her voice was like a song, although her Brezh was strongly accented.
Fare blinked in surprise, then half laughed, half sobbed. “Help you?” He gestured at the emptiness around them. “How can I help you?”
A look of impatience crossed her exotic features. “Not here! On land. Pirates hold my . . .” She paused, obviously searching for a word. “Chief. You help save, I let you go.”
Once he was on land, why would he do anything she wanted? Fare sensed a trick here.
“Pirates on island,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.
Ah! I knew there had to be something, Fare thought. Even so. “Why would you trust me?” he couldn’t resist asking.
Cautiously the mermaid reached out and touched the stone around his neck with a webbed and taloned finger.
“The stone? You want this?”
She cocked her head and stared, then nodded once.
“If I give it to you, will you swear to take me back to my ship?”
Again that slow nod.
Fare reached for the chain to draw the stone over his head. There was a crackle like lightning, a flash and burning pain. He screamed, and sank helplessly. A hand reached down and drew him up. He and the mermaid stared at one another.
The mermaid sighed. “You help,” she said, resignation in her lovely voice.
Fare shuddered. “What do you want me to do?”
What indeed? Neesha wondered. This was madness! One mermaid warrior and one human boy against an island full of pirates and Creesi murderers. All because she thought it was what the magestone wanted.
All right, I know the magestone wants it.
Neesha pointed to the stone. “This help you. Give you breath below.”
He looked at her uncomprehendingly.
Holding her hand above the water, she said, “Breathe.” Then, with her hand, she mimicked diving. “Breathe, no fear.”
“Easy for you to say,” he muttered.
Neesha ducked beneath the surface, stretching her senses. Finding what she sought, she called a pod of the cousins to her, and soon she and the human were in the midst of a chittering, rollicking throng of dolphins. Neesha explained what she wanted and gained their delighted consent. Mischief of any kind was always to their taste.
Fare tightened his grip on the mermaid. The frolicking pod looked somewhat alarming in the dark.
“They help,” she said to him. “You hold here.” She guided his hand to a dolphin’s sturdy fin. “Put . . .” She made a flickering gesture with two fingers.
“Legs?” he asked.
“Over.” She reached down and tugged his leg over the cousin’s body. “They take us.”
“What—” he began. But the dolphins were off, and he was underwater and unable to ask “What do we do when we get there?”
As they neared the island prison of the mage, Neesha emptied the pool of her mind, listening for other voices.
To her amazement, there weren’t many Creesi near the island—perhaps ten in all, widely scattered. Fear grabbed her; they must have gone a-raiding in force, and here she was, miles from where she should be.
Neesha forced her mind back to the problem at hand. Ten is more than enough to be a problem. . . . She probed deeper. Most were sleeping—over half in drugged dreams, she found to her relief—while four kept watch. Those who watched didn’t converse and she sensed anger and deep bitterness attached to their private thoughts.
Only four. Maybe this could be done.
There was a taint in the water that the cousins found disturbing, and so did she; it was at once oily and bitter.
Moving carefully toward the wakeful guards, Neesha found that she was also approaching the source of the awful taint that soured the water. They came to a massive rock and she clung to it, gazing through the moonlit waters. At last she spied her quarry, four brawny mermen with heavy bronze tridents and nets weighted with lead sinkers around their waists.
Doable, she insisted to herself. Then she studied the area as she’d been taught. The Creesi floated before the mouth of a cave, and the seabed before it had been cleared of all cover. Only the cliff face itself could give them a chance to get close without being seen, but even that was feeble cover. The magestone was proving astonishingly potent, but it couldn’t make them invisible.
Neesha considered. First she must rid herself temporarily of this clumsy human. So far, the outflow of rancid water had disguised her presence, but the thrashing progress of her companion was bound to attract notice.
Pressing his hands to the rock that sheltered them, she leaned close and said into his ear, “Stay.”
He looked at her, then nodded. Relieved, Neesha swam off.
Fare watched her go, then turned his attention back to the guards, only vaguely discernible in the faded light that came and went with the waves above. There was a faint sparkle along the cliff side, and on staring hard at it, he realized it was the mermaid.
What is she thinking? Fare wondered. Was she planning to attack them? Ridiculous! The guards were easily twice her size! Even though he could still feel the bruises she’d inflicted on him, he was certain she was no match for one of the mermen, let alone four. He forced himself to grip the rock tighter, fighting the urge to help her. If she did have a plan, attracting attention to himself would surely ruin it. Hating the necessity, he kept still.
Neesha clung to the cliff, pulling herself closer to the quarry, freezing whenever she thought she’d attracted attention, then moving stealthily forward. Finally she was close enough. Reaching into the natural pouch in her belly that would one day hold her young, she plucked out a blowpipe, and from a quiver attached to it, a specially treated sea-urchin spine. She paused, centering herself. She needed to be fast; she needed to be accurate. Her life depended on it—and perhaps the lives of her people.
She aimed and forced a precisely calculated amount of water through the pipe, propelling the dart toward her first victim. There was a slight tock! as it struck his neck; then his muscles froze and he floated quietly, drifting. Another . . . and another. Then the fourth guard turned and saw her. Startled, he flung his trident at her, then snatched the net from around his waist. The mermaid curved around the trident as she brought the blowpipe up. Her shot went wild, and the guard bore down on her, strong and swift.
He flung out the net but she spun upward, avoiding it and delivering a painful slap to his hands. He rolled in the water, reducing the force of the blow. Recovering, he swept his tail at her. Neesha evaded it, but only just. As he came around again, she plunged a dart into his tail. The net caught her tail fin and she rolled in panic, only drawing it tighter.
Before he could pull her in, the drug began to take effect. He gritted his teeth, fighting it, and reached out; he slowed, then stopped.
The young mermaid hung in the water, exhausted, and watched consciousness fade from her adversary’s eyes. In the distance, the cousins played, and the other Creesi still dreamed, heedless. Relief flowed through her, washing away fear. She dragged off the net and let it drop.
Now to see where this cave leads, she thought.
Fare was already on his way to her, knife in hand. When he’d seen the guard attack, he’d sprung out of hiding. Two of them might overcome the fellow, big as he was. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over—the guard drifting in the current, the mermaid motionless in the water. Was she hurt? Then she looked up, those silvery eyes flashing in a moon-beam as she shrugged out of the net and gestured him forward.
As soon as they entered the dark passage into the cliff, Fare knew there was something wrong. The water was foul, and there was a feeling about the place that made the back of his neck draw tight. At any moment he expected something vile to grab him. After what seemed an eternity he saw light. Looking up, he saw the flicker of torches through the murky water.
A face, upside down, loomed before him. A pale face with the eyes of a man tortured past sanity. A clawed hand reached for him, and Fare cried out, thrusting himself feebly backwards. The mermaid flashed between them, catching that deformed hand. She looked over her shoulder at him and gestured that they should surface.
Neesha drew Fare toward the side of the pool and surfaced carefully. The two of them listened. They looked around and saw nothing alarming. The pool was well below the torches, and she thought it must be deeper when the tide was in, for the rock was wet a long way up.
Then she froze. A single manacle was clutching the mage’s tail at its narrowest point, just below the great fan, holding almost half of it above the water. The fan itself was split and shattered, the supporting bones fleshless in places. The scales on the tail were twisted and buckled where they’d dried in the air. Neesha moaned, sickened at the sight. No wonder the water here is foul, she thought.
She had come to rescue Shashu. Now, remembering the mad look in his eyes, she thought they might be too late.
Rage, pure and fierce, coursed through her, and she turned to the human boy. Humans had done this, offending even the heartless Creesi. No wonder she’d sensed anger from them. Anything that could wreak such torture on a living being didn’t deserve to live. Neesha drew back her hand to strike.
“I’ll climb up and see if I can loose the chain,” the boy said, unaware of his danger. He turned to look her in the eye. “We’ve got to save him if we can.”
She lowered her hand and nodded, ashamed.
Fare climbed the slippery rocks, his stomach in knots. He knew pirates were killers, but this! This was unclean, and a sin against the gods. It made him feel ashamed of being human.
Then he was looking over the edge of a gently sloping ledge. Catching his breath at the suddenness of his exposure, Fare looked slowly around, then blew his breath out in a long, slow stream. No one was here. He pulled himself up and looked around.
One of the links of the chain that bound the merman was slipped over an iron rod sunk into the rock. Fare almost laughed with relief. No lock! He went to the rod and tried to pull the chain up and off. It came almost to the top, then stuck. After straining for a while, he let it go and sat down, panting, to consider the matter. He needed slack. He was about to call down to the mermaid when he heard footsteps. Amator, the pirate chief, stepped over the sleeping body of the guard. When you wake, dog, I’ll have the flesh off your back, he thought. “Worthless, motherless, sea wrack,” he muttered.
When times were good for pirates, things fell apart. The men could see no reason not to get drunk and stay that way. And Amator knew from experience that you could only press them so hard about discipline and keeping watch. At this post especially.
They didn’t understand that he wasn’t worried about being attacked from this place. He was worried about losing their prize prisoner. The fish-man’s magic had brought them untold success on the sea, and the Creesi had given much aid in that regard.
But now they had withdrawn, angry at his treatment of the prisoner.
“Plotting,” he mumbled, and realized with a grin that he was drunk, too.
Let ’em plot, he thought. There’s nothing they can do. It was the prisoner who raised storms or calmed the sea. And it was Amator and not the fish-men who held him captive. He’d do as he pleased with the ugly unnatural animal. And if the Creesi didn’t like it, they’d soon find out who was in charge and what was what!
Amator leaned over the pool, put his great, scarred hands on his knees, and shouted down, “You there! Show yourself!”
Shashu’s face rose slowly from the water, his staring eyes filled with hate and pain.
“Have you decided, thing? Will you do as I’ve asked?”
The mage didn’t answer.
“Such a simple thing,” Amator sneered. “Teach me to raise storms.” He shrugged, grinning. Then, at the expression of loathing on the prisoner’s face, he grew angry. “Too proud to answer, eh? Maybe I’ve been too kind. Let’s dry you off a little more and see what you think then, eh?”
Amator moved around the pool to the iron rod and lifted the chain off with a casual grunt of effort.
Fare rushed from his hiding place behind a fold in the cave wall, shoving the pirate over the cliff and into the water with a mighty splash. The boy himself fell, striking the sharp rock wall on the way down and scraping off half his tunic and much of his skin. When he hit the water, he turned to face the pirate, whose head rose out of the pool with a roar.
Before Fare could do anything more, Shashu’s two withered arms closed about the pirate chief, and he vanished beneath the water.
The mermaid surfaced and looked at Fare without expression. Then she said, “Come.” Wincing, he pushed away from the rock wall. She put an arm around him and pulled him out of the sea-cave.
Dawn had come, and morning light illuminated the awful scene before them. The merman, his eyes filled with nightmares, held the drowned pirate as though never meaning to let his tormentor go.
Neesha glanced at the human boy, wondering what to do. If she took the magestone from him, he would surely drown. If she gave the stone to Shashu, the mage might use its power on anyone who came near him, not knowing friend from foe. Or it might cure him, she thought.
The cousins had stopped their play and were approaching them. They circled Shashu, exclaiming in chirps of concern over the state of his tail. Some of the younger ones nudged the pirate’s body and the mage lashed out at them, causing them to flee with panicked cries to their mothers.
Neesha quickly explained to the dolphins that the body was that of one who had tortured the mage. The cousins were silent for a moment, swimming solemn circles around the wounded merman, weaving an intricate pattern. Their stately progress seemed to calm Shashu, and slowly his grip on the human body lessened.
Fare nudged Neesha and pointed upward. With a frown, she brought him to the surface.
“The dolphins are your friends, aren’t they?” he asked, wiping seawater from his eyes. “They’ll do what you tell them, right?”
Neesha smiled at that. The cousins did what they liked. “Maybe,” she said.
“Have them tow him back to your people, using the chain. That way he can’t hurt them. You, uh, have a place?”
Neesha nodded. It was a good idea. She even thought the cousins might do it. They were sympathetic creatures, and the mage’s condition had plainly touched them.
“Take me back to my ship. I’ll give you the stone and we’ll say good-bye. All right?”
She considered this. In some ways it went against the grain: humans were the enemy, every bit as much as the Creesi. But this one had helped.
“Yes,” she said simply, then turned and dove back under the water.
The cousins
were eager to help, and crowded around demanding that the chain be tied around “ME, ME, ME!” Neesha chose the strongest and used the pirate’s sash to tie the chain around the dolphin. Then she watched them swim away, the mage still clinging to the pirate’s body, looking back at her with haunted eyes.
When she popped up beside Fare again, the startled boy gulped water and began to choke. She held him up until he got himself under control.
“I didn’t think you were coming back,” he said.
She blinked. The thought hadn’t occurred to her. But no, she thought ruefully, the stone wouldn’t like that. She was convinced it wouldn’t surrender itself until the human was safe. Neesha smiled. The human’s life was a small enough reward to give; she didn’t begrudge the stone that.
It had taken them a while to find his uncle’s ship, till near midnight. The mermaid brought Fare close, but stopped when she saw his uncle Comgall leaning over the rail.
“I can make it from here,” he whispered. Biting his lip in fear of the consequences, he lifted the chain over his head and offered the stone to her.
Her lips parted and she accepted it reverently, pausing before she put it around her own neck.
“I have to ask,” he said, and she looked at him, tilting her head. He drew in a strengthening breath. “May I kiss you?”
She laughed once, then covered her mouth, but her eyes were merry as she looked at him. She dropped her hand and, smiling, nodded.
Fare leaned forward and, closing his eyes, very gently kissed her lips. He drew back, startled, and she was gone.
After a moment, he called to the ship. Laughing and cheering, the seamen threw him a line and drew him on board, slapping his shoulders, covering him with a blanket, and demanding to know what had happened.
“I kissed a mermaid,” Fare said.
His uncle considered him. “And how was that?”
Young Warriors Page 3
