Myth

by Terri Todosey

“You’re quite the artist,” I said. “Do you sketch a lot?”

  “When I see something that catches my eye or imagination,” he replied. His thumb smoothed over a pencil line, and for a moment I was caught up in the way his hands moved over the image of my face. Smudging the shading of my cheeks and lips, his charcoal-stained finger worked its magic.

  The frogs began to chirp as the breeze settled with the ending of the day. The lake had become smooth and still, like a glass mirror reflecting the burning sky; it gave the appearance that our ship was suspended in the air.

  “Can you hear them?” Henry whispered.

  The night had come alive with the sounds of crickets and frogs, but I wasn’t sure which sound he was referring to.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Listen,” he said, and slowly it came. Like a surf that swells and ebbs, a musical call echoed in the night and slowly rounded off to a low hum. Then a response swelled up from the other shore. It stretched over the echoing song and was a tad higher than the last, but harmonious in perfect pitch. Similar to a loon, the call was hauntingly peaceful against the still dusk, and I recognized it as the same song I had heard back in the waters of Lily Palus. Back on the night I nearly drowned.

  “Is it the Syreni?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the sweet melody that had grown into echoes of harmony.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “It sounds so sad, and yet beautiful,” I said, with a new sense of who they were: a people who were sadly cursed.

  “Yes, but don’t let their beautiful voices fool you. Although it is a song filled with sadness over the curse that crippled them to the sea, the Syreni have become devoted to taking back what was once theirs. Quick to lure in a sailor with their enticing song, their melodic voices have mesmerized many men who have drowned trying to catch a glimpse of those who possess the haunting voice.”

  “Henry?” I looked over at him. “That night I nearly drowned, was that the Syreni in the water with me? Was that them who tried to drown me?”

  He nodded. “It is hatred for the ones who cursed them and an unforgiving heart that has them desiring the death of others so eagerly.”

  I must have looked petrified, because he was quick to add, “But you shouldn’t worry; as long as you stay out of the water at nightfall, you’ll be fine.”

  His response was not the comfort I would have liked, and I nuzzled in beside him on the blanket. We were silent for a while, as we lay on our backs listening to the haunting symphony that surrounded our ship. Their song eventually faded, as the orange sun descended behind the crater wall, and the afterglow warmed with brightening shades of red, pink, purple and orange.

  “It’s like a finger painting I made when I was a child,” I said.

  “Hmm?” He rolled on his side to face me.

  “The sunset,” I reiterated.

  “Are you calling me a child?” he stretched closer, and I couldn’t help but notice his inquisitive grin.

  “Aren’t all men?” I giggled.

  “It’s actually a beacon,” he said. “A red sky at night is a sailor’s delight, but red skies in the morning is a sailor’s warning.”

  I noticed his glorious green eyes fall over me again. “I should have had more time to teach you,” he sighed. He glanced down at my chest which had begun to glow from his pen under my shirt.

  “It’s time to write,” he said, sitting up.

  Spiritus gleaned brightly against the darkening end of day.

  “I don’t want you to go,” I said. “Not yet.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “But the tide will be going out soon, taking with it the Syreni, and there is beautiful girl out there who is going to drown unless I go and save her.”

  His wanting eyes stared back at me; the same eyes I had seen every night in my dreams, and suddenly I felt the anxiety of him leaving.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  I had no words for how I felt. Instead I pulled him closer and felt his soft lips touch mine. Spiritus glowed between us with passion as the dark night settled in, warning us of the time that was fading fast.

  “I rlly musft go,” he mumbled through our lips.

  I sighed, taking one last nip at him and sat up. “I suppose if you must,” I grumbled and released my hold on him. ‘The sooner he left, the sooner he’ll return,’ I thought, trying to be optimistic.

  Pulling the Troth out from his satchel, Henry flipped through the pages until he came to a blank page. “I want you to think back to the night you nearly drowned,” he said.

  “Must I?”

  “I know it’s not a pleasant memory, but I need you to remember the events of that night, so you can write them.”

  I searched my head for the memory of that dark, wet night. The night I thought I was going to drown. The night he had saved me. It was a memory I both wanted to remember and to forget, but I found myself dreaming of it nearly every night since. The dream that always ended the same way, with Henry being pulled away from me. That was the part I wanted to forget.

  “Yes, I remember,” I finally said.

  “Tell me about it,” he whispered.

  “Well...” I sighed, thinking. “It was wet,” I finally said, looking up at him.

  His brow cocked up. “Wet?”

  “Well yeah,” I replied. “Why do I have to write about it anyway?”

  “You need to write me a tail, so I can save you from drowning,” he said.

  “And how am I going to write you back once you’re gone?” I asked.

  His wide eyes stared at me.

  “Well it’s not as though you’re giving me much to go on,” I argued.

  “You worry far too much,” he sighed.

  “But how am I supposed to know what to do when you’re gone?” I scolded. “When’s this Myth you keep talking about going to show up? And what do I do if Ludo comes while you’re out in the water? And how long will you....”

  “Whoa, whoa, one step at a time,” he interrupted. “The Myth will be here soon, and you must trust that she will know what to do,” he said.

  “Oh,” I sighed. Of course the Myth would know what to do.

  “If it makes you feel any better, it’s all here in the Troth,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  “Page three hundred and twenty-four.”

  “Three twenty-four,” I repeated, making a mental note of it. Sliding the book over, I set it in my lap, and flipping my finger through the corner of the pages, I searched for the number.

  “What are you doing?” he stopped my hand.

  “I’m looking for page three twenty-four, like you said!”

  “Not until I’m gone,” he eyed me intensely.

  “But what if I don’t understand? Shouldn’t I look it over, just in case?”

  “We don’t have time!” he chided. “The tide is about to go out and I have yet to find the pen down there before I...” he paused as though searching for the words, “...I save your sorry little ass,” he finally said.

  “But...”

  Henry stopped me with his finger over my lips.

  “Yu promisf I’ll undrstnfd wht to do?” my lips mumbled through his finger.

  “Yes.”

  “Pge free twen-four?”

  “Page three twenty-four.”

  I looked up at him. ‘Why does he have to be so freak’n hot?’ I wondered.

  “What?” he asked taking his finger away.

  “What, what?” I responded.

  “You had that look,” he said.

  “What look?” I asked.

  “That look you get when you’re thinking too much.”

  “I think that you think I think too much, when it’s actually you just thinking it!”

  “Hmm,” he sighed. “So, the night was wet?” he said
firmly.

  “Yes... and cool. And the water was dark until you arrived.”

  “And I had a fish tail?”

  “Yes, with silvery green scales that sparkled from the light of the pen.”

  “And I lift you up to the surface?”

  “Yes, after...” I looked at him.

  “After what?” he looked confused.

  I smiled.

  “I what?” he scolded me. “I dare think I would be so bold what with my promise to keep my hands off you.”

  I raised my brow teasingly.

  “I think it’s about time you write,” he said, and shifting forward he gently lifted the chain and pen up from around my neck.

  “Just describe what you remember,” he said placing the brightly glowing pen in my hand.

  I realized that I could no longer delay his departure. I looked down at the blank page where the tip of his pen hovered. I sat, waiting for something to happen, but there was only stillness. Spiritus glowed brilliantly in the darkness as though wanting to write, but needing a nudge. I moved the pen towards the top of the page, hoping that might help. But again my hand just sat there, unwilling to write without Henry’s voice guiding it.

  “Just relax,” whispered Henry. “Go back to that night, and have Spiritus tell me all about it.”

  I stared at the bright pen in my hand. The dark ink oozed out into a drip that balanced delicately on its silver tip, as though waiting for my command. I took a deep breath and sighed. This was not going to be easy. Rolling my head back, I stretched my shoulders down to relax while my eyes glanced at the moon that had already climbed up into the star-littered sky. My mind flashed to the memory of how it had looked from under the water. It was eerie the way it danced over me like a shimmering, metallic search light. It was as though it was trying desperately to find me, but its light could barely reach the depths where I had drifted.

  Deep below the water’s surface I sat, suspended in the cold, dark water with one breath of air begging to be released. The pain was insufferable and my lungs burned. Justin had tried hard to find me, but it was not his task to fulfill. There was someone else there in the darkness, pouring his warmth out over me. My saviour had come like an angel, lighting up the dark water as he approached. His silvery, green scales that tightly covered his lower body had been transformed into a long, fabulous fish tail. Tenderly, he placed his brightly glowing pen over me, and as he did the burn in my lungs was extinguished.

  He moved playfully around me; quick and agile his shimmering tail slipped through the water and spliced the glowing light that hung around my neck into a sea of dancing lights. It was magical. Swimming deeper, he swirled around and looked up at me with his smiling emerald eyes, coaxing me to play and releasing all my fear. I watched the corner of his mouth curve up into a curious smile. He was altogether mesmerizing.

  His eyes widened, his body pulled away and Spiritus jolted out of my hand. My eyes flicked open and I found myself back on the ship. Henry was gone.

  The rigging clanged loudly against the mast, as the ship surged forward and the Troth slid along the deck to the bow of the boat.

  ‘Where’d Spiritus go?’ I panicked, struggling to see in the darkness without it. Standing up, I was violently thrown to the starboard side, and the boom quickly followed, nearly knocking me off the ship. I grabbed tightly onto the gunnels as the ship rocked and swayed in the turbulent water and pulled me back towards the port side as the boom returned to its original position.

  Then I saw it. The dim light of the pen. Its chain was caught up in one of the cleats, and without a second to think I lunged forward and seized it. I pulled it up over my head and then ducked out of the way of the boom as it swung around the mast of the boat again. I was tossed forward like a rag doll. Grabbing onto the halyard rope, I swung back around to the stern where I quickly belayed the rope down into a rear cleat.

  ‘The tide is going out!’ I suddenly realized. ‘What the heck was I supposed to do again?’

  “CLANG! CLANG!” the brass rigging rang out against the mast that was swaying from side to side.

  “The anchor!” I remembered. I’ve got to raise it.

  Suddenly the bow lunged down, throwing me down with it. Narina was anxious to go, but the anchor fought against her. Down to the bow I slid, watching the Troth slide along with me. I stretched my arm out to grab it and my fingers skimmed against the back spine. ‘I nearly have it,’ I thought.

  ‘WHAM!’ I slammed into the mast and the book sailed past me. Picking myself up by the anchor wheel, I held myself steady enough to lift the anchor.

  “Okay Narina, I’m gonna need some help here!” I called out to the carved mermaid who remained serenely poised below the bowsprit. Winding the chain wheel up and around, I began the vigorous task of lifting the anchor. It took most of my strength, which made it difficult enough, but with the ship swaying violently in the rough waves it was nearly impossible.

  My arms ached as I heaved the anchor up off the bottom of the lake. As I did, Narina responded, her bow lurched upward. Everything shifted to the back of the boat. I watched the Troth slide back down towards the stern and quickly slammed my foot down to stop it as it slid past me.

  ‘Success!’ I gloated, but the triumph quickly dissolved as I still had half of the anchor chain to pull up, and it wasn’t getting any easier. I cranked the wheel again and again, lifting the heavy weight, and in response Narina lunged forward, shifting all of the debris from the stern back to the bow again.

  “Easy does it Narina!” I panted, trying get the anchor fully up, but it was as though she was a wild mare the way she fought against me in the waves. Impatient to go, she was quick to surf forward over the wave’s break as I drew the anchor up. She slid towards the narrows over the funneling water that drew us in to where the cliff walls rose tightly on either side of us. Exhausted, I locked the anchor into its resting place and bent down to pick up the Troth.

  I realized that I had to get to the helm. Using the rigging and a long lanyard that was secured into a bitt, I held on tightly and carefully shuffled with the Troth towards the back of the ship. Narina careened without warning around a small eddy and dropped forward. I refused to let go of the rope and it swung me around the mast towards the helm. I leapt forward, let go of the rope and grabbed hold of the ship’s wheel. The wheel spun towards me and Narina regrettably followed direction, her bow taking a sharp left towards the stone wall.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I called out to her. Fumbling to my feet, I jammed the wheel down right, correcting the direction and preventing a cataclysmic disaster.

  “Work with me! Please!” I begged her to obey, as she dove down towards a swirling vortex. I wedged the book between my knees and held on tightly to the wheel with both hands, waiting for whatever was about to happen. We plunged down into the spiraling pool and instantly I felt the hard pull against the wheel, but I held on tight and Narina shot through the rapids and out to sea. My death grip eased as the cliff walls widened, and the water smoothed out into the large open sea that only hours ago had been an empty canyon.

  “Whew!” I breathed a sigh of relief. “We did it.”

  The billowing waves rolled out and the ship slowed its course until the sea around me became smooth like glass. The water had drained into Lily Palus and brought the ship along with it. I was alone with Narina floating under the moon.

  Off in the distance I could see the lily pads shining wet on the surface from the light of the moon. It was weird to look over and know that somewhere off in the distance I was out there, under the water with Henry.

  ‘I should drop anchor again and wait here for him,’ I thought. “He could have made this a little easier,” I grumbled to myself as I unlatched the lock and began lowering the anchor. It was much easier to drop than it had been to lift however, and for that I was thankful. Belaying the downhaul into a cleat, I set the
anchor.

  “So!” I directed my voice towards the mermaid at the bow. It seemed logical to me that she was the head of the ship, if such a thing could exist. “I understand that you’ve been on many journeys with Henry. I bet you have a few tales to tell yourself,” I mused, wishing she could reply with secret stories of the man I love.

  ‘Oooo, did I just say that?’ I thought. ‘No, but I thought it,’ I giggled, thinking that my ramblings inside myself should have warned me of my state of mind. Perhaps I was the mad one in all of this?’ I laughed.

  Climbing up on the bowsprit that stretched out above Narina at the front of the ship, I sat down with the Troth on my lap and let my feet dangle over both sides.

  “Thank you!” I said, leaning my head over the front to get a good look at her. She was a beautiful carving and appeared happy to have survived our first and possibly last journey together.

  “Alright,” I sighed. ‘Let me find out what to do next,’ I thought and opened the Troth up in my lap. Flipping through the pages I came to the part I had just written. There was a big squiggly line that went out from what I last wrote, when the waves jolted the pen out of my hand. I flipped over the pages, until I came to page three hundred and twenty-four.

  ‘That’s odd,’ I thought. The page was blank.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Myth

  ‘He did say page three twenty-four, didn’t he?’ I tried to think back. ‘I’m sure of it.’ I flipped though the pages that followed, but they were all blank.

  “Now what am I going to do?” I asked Narina, who gazed lifelessly back at me. I wish there was a way I could signal Henry. “How come I didn’t get a flute?” I asked my wooden companion, knowing full well that she wouldn’t answer. I sighed and looked down at my feet dangling over the water. The night was especially calm now that the tide had fully come in, and the brightness of the moon cast shadows from all the ship’s rigging.

  “What the heck was I supposed to do now?” I looked back at the blank page of the Troth and noticed that Spiritus was glowing. Lifting it up over my head I held its silvery body in my hand. Clearly it wanted to write, but I had no idea what to write or how to write it without Henry’s guidance. I brought the tip of the pen to the surface of the book and watched the radiating light brighten the starkly blank page; page three hundred and twenty-four. What do I write? I sat frustrated in thought.