It’s not all about my parents, either. On land, ever since I was six, I’ve been an outsider. A scarred, broken version of who I was supposed to be. I never let anyone witness how deeply it affects me. It would only bring more pity. Underwater, in spite of the incident with the eels, it welcomes me, which is so weird to say considering the signs pointing at it being the opposite. There, I have a chance to be the girl who lives inside me—brave, adventurous, whole.
In my room, staring at a poster of humpback whales, I’m trying to figure out what to say to Mom when she enters cautiously. She perches on the end of the bed and I examine the dark circles under her eyes, knowing that what I’m about to do will only bring her greater heartbreak.
“Zoey, I wish you’d talk to me. You’re going through a lot, so let me help you.” She draws in weary sigh. “You’ve been in the ocean, haven’t you?”
I wring my hands, raw and bleeding at the reality that I’m leaving her. I memorize every new line in her face, the way her green eyes are dotted with specks of gold, how the right side of her blonde hair curls up just a little more than the other. Licking my lips, I say, “It’s, like, I finally felt comfortable with myself. I’m not awkward or clumsy. I’m healthy and not broken.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re perfect as you are.” Grasping my fingers, she pleads, “Please promise me you’re being careful.”
“I am,” I reassure her as I briefly meet her stare.
She starts to pace, her long legs eating up the small space of floor in my room. “You’re angry at me and I understand that, but think about what you’re doing. What if you came across a shark or something worse? The oceans aren’t safe.”
“What if I’d spilled salt water on myself in class and sprouted a tail right there? Would that have been any safer?” Immediately I regret it. I don’t want to argue, not tonight.
“Don’t start with me again. I admit I’ve made mistakes, but I’m your mother. If you need to find out more about this, let’s do it. We can go someplace isolated and safe, where you can try it out, get a feel for your tail.”
My heart reaches out for her. It’s true. She has made mistakes and, on land, she’s the only person I can count on. I struggle against the urge to confide in her, but explaining myself will be easier in a letter. Cowardly, but easier.
If she knew, she’d fight to keep me from going.
To appease her, I say, “Maybe this weekend we can, and I’ll show you what a freak I am.” The smile blooming on her face twists my insides. Please let her forgive me, I pray.
Mom leans forward and kisses my forehead. “You are not a freak to me. Go to sleep. I love you, my little fish.”
That makes it worse. Loving me in any form is her job and her acceptance eases my lingering anger. I can’t be angry, or whatever it is I’m feeling toward her, anymore. I love her.
Crawling out of bed, I sit at my desk and take out paper and pen. I compose a goodbye letter to Mom and hope it doesn’t hurt her as severely as I’m afraid it will, as much as it hurts to write it.
Mom,
When you read this, you’ll realize I’m gone. Please don’t be too mad, but I have to do this to find out who I really am. Ever since my birthday, and finding out I’m part mermaid, I’ve felt lost and torn between two worlds. That won’t fade until I’ve experienced the other half of me.
Don’t worry, I’m not venturing out into the open ocean alone. I’ve met Galina and she’s arranging for me meet my father. I’ll be under their protection. I need this time to know my other family. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this.
I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but please remember I love you so much. I might not have shown it these last few days, but I’m confused. I know why you did what you did and I forgive you for keeping it from me. All I’m asking is for you to let me go. Let me find out who I am.
I promise I’ll come back, Mom. This isn’t goodbye. Please tell Charlotte where I’ve gone and that I love her too. I’ll see both of you soon.
Your little fish, Zoey
Once I’m certain she’s asleep, I fold the letter and lay it on the counter. I’m not taking anything with me except my expectations and guilt for running out on Mom with only a pathetic letter in my wake. Sadness drags at me, tempting me to stay. And I almost do. I cast my gaze over the living room, the pictures of us on the walls and the blanket we share when curled up on the couch. Even the bag of cookies she knows I’m addicted to on the counter is a barbed dagger.
Millions of emotions slide over me as I steel my heart and exit the rear, sliding-glass doors. It’s a challenge to be quiet, as I’m on crutches. I figure taking them is easier than leaving the expensive prosthetic abandoned on the beach.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper to the silent house.
The entire ride to Mission Park I doubt my decision. Leaving behind the familiar is a huge step. All I can do to calm myself is to remember it’s temporary. Part of that is a lie, though. Realistically, if I enjoy living with these exotic people, I might stay and visit Mom when I can.
All doubts fade when I hobble off the bus and inhale the intoxicating scent of the ocean. A quick glance confirms my seclusion, so I throw off my pajama pants and sweatshirt, tucking them out of sight behind a rock with the crutches. I’m naked, except for the bikini top, and rebellious. I hop forward and dive under the waves. A second later, the change is complete and I’m free again, confident in my decision as a smile stretches my lips.
A few hundred yards out, Kona and Nerio are waiting. I draw up to hover in the water, suddenly awkward with the young merman so close. He’s got chiseled features that belong on a movie poster. His upper body isn’t too big. It’s nice and lean, covered with a faint trace of maroon scales fading upward from his tail. Topping it off, he has a defined set of abs and his skin is a golden tan.
“Hi, Zoey!” Kona bumps me in greeting and I grin at his exuberance.
“Hi, Kona.”
Glancing at Nerio, I am sucked into his brown eyes, unable to look anywhere else. He swims over to us slowly, not once taking his gaze off mine.
“I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to wait.” His tone is strong and deep. It slides over me, kicking my pulse up a few degrees.
“I-I couldn’t wait any longer,” I say quietly, stroking Kona’s rubbery skin. “I didn’t want to change my mind.”
“You are very comfortable in the water for someone who just learned what she is.” Heat floods my cheeks. “It should make the journey easier.”
“I’m nervous, and a little scared, but I’m ready. I’ll probably have a million questions.”
A smile plays on his lips. “I imagine you will. Let’s get going then.” He abruptly frowns. “I don’t like how unsettled the seas are near shore, especially after hearing about the attack. Eels don’t travel in clusters.” He stares out, as if searching for them, but shakes it off. “We’ll travel two days, straight through the night, so I will try not to push you. The palace is far and we have to move fast. Galina is concerned for your safety. Please inform me if you tire.” He shoots off into the murky distance.
I sneak a final glance toward land, letting a single second of doubt settle in before wiping it away. I’ll miss my life, but will I miss land? My body? I shove the notions aside and set out after Nerio at a breakneck pace. Neither of us speaks as we pass the farthest I ever swam alone. I watch in awe as the seascape changes swiftly and dramatically.
Near the coast, the ocean floor is unremarkable and littered with garbage, a jumble of grays and browns. Of course, with my new vision it had been magical. I’m not prepared for how its appearance changes a couple miles off shore.
The floor slopes downward and a broad, flat plain extends out. The darker water turns a deep, rich bluish-green color. Light filters down about a hundred feet even at night, but below that, I can see through the murkiness. It’s full of energy. More fish than I’ve ever observed in a single place swim to and fro, moving along on unknown missions. While it’s not
the most scenic, the epic size strikes me dumb.
I’m only a tiny speck in this vast ocean. It humbles then frightens me and I scan every miniscule thing, searching for danger. Kona’s presence is reassuring, especially remembering how he sensed the attack. Every now and then, the dolphin disappears, zipping upward like a dart.
“Where does he disappear to?” I ask, worried about him in this vast unknown.
Nerio flashes me a grin. “He’s not like us. After half an hour down here he has to go up for oxygen. Some species can make it two hours but not his. He’ll be back.”
I return his expression and follow Nerio as he veers south, anxious for my little friend to come back and act as a buffer. Being alone with this exotic boy sends my pulse into overdrive.
Chapter Thirteen
Each school of fish we pass has the usual reaction. They dance and show off, watching us swim by. A giant sailfish, a marlin, soars overhead, its shadow blocking out the sun. The colors of its fin are so vibrant and I recall that as soon as they are caught and pulled out of the water, their color fades. It’s a shame because the animal is gorgeous.
“Do the fish really know who I am?”
“You’ve noticed, huh?” Nerio chuckles as a torpedo-shaped animal twirls in front of us.
“It happened before I knew what I was. We went to an aquarium and things got pretty interesting.”
Nerio shudders at the word “aquarium” and I can only imagine what my reaction would be now, considering I’m swimming around with a tail.
“Fish following you and showing off?”
“Exactly, except the sharks. They always tend to have a more violent reaction.”
“Always?”
Not a story I want to share with him on the first day. “Never mind.”
“Sharks don’t like us,” he says abruptly, then softens his tone. “The fish, though, they can smell you because of their heightened senses. They detect your royal blood. It’s how they acknowledge you.”
“Can we talk to them? I mean, is it the same as with Kona?” I have a vision of Ariel with her fish and crab friends in The Little Mermaid. I hope it isn’t as silly as that. It would be disappointing.
“Only the purest royals can communicate with the sea life. You’ll find out more once we arrive at the palace. It’s not actual talking. As far as Kona, mammals are different. Even I understand them.”
It’s disconcerting how fast we cover distances and there aren’t many chances to be scared. All my focus goes into not getting left behind. Nerio leads us deeper and the temperature grows colder. It doesn’t affect me and I attribute it to the thicker skin.
I use every second I’m not gawking at my surroundings to revel in the way my body moves, so free and unencumbered. The fluid motion of my muscles is heaven, filling me with a happiness I thought I’d lost. This is truly who I am supposed to be.
The water darkens more and the fish practically disappear. It hits me then how lonely the ocean is. It’s immense and, at times, not a single creature can be seen. It doesn’t mean they’re not there, only invisible. The landscape morphs so quickly, becoming foreign and lunar in the blink of an eye, or broken into a seemingly bottomless abyss.
As nonchalantly as I can, I study Nerio swim. He’s strong and his movements are graceful. My gaze drifts down over his tail and, to my surprise, I find it attractive. His hair is a rich chestnut brown and the longer style brushes his jaw when not flowing behind him. On land, he would have been the kind of guy girls fawned over. Heck, it’s probably the story down here as well.
“Nerio is an interesting name. Is it Greek?” I ask.
He flashes me a grin and my heart stutters a couple beats. “Yes, it means sea traveler. Most mer have names that are Greek in origin.”
“Why?” Interest overtakes my blossoming crush as I listen to learn as much I can about these mystical creatures.
“Most of our history is enmeshed with theirs. Long ago we lived in harmony with them. When the Greeks wrote about us, it wasn’t fairy tales or fantasy. It was real.”
“So mermaids originate from the Greeks? Do you mean the people or the actual gods?”
“From Poseidon himself.” He straightens proudly. “Homer’s Odyssey is based on truth.”
“You’ve read the Odyssey?” That detail surprises me more than being the descendant of a god. Maybe because it’s easy to assume mermaids and myth fit together so seamlessly.
“We have school, same as you do.” He smirks. “Part of our Sojourns, the week we spend on land, is to help us identify with the surface and learn the language. We start at the age of five. They say it’s necessary, keeping us linked to a species we’re so connected to, but I’m not as impressed with the human world as others are.”
The disdain when he mentions my race fills the space between us. “What do you find wrong with it?”
“What’s there to like?” He shoots me an incredulous glance. “Don’t be so shocked. There are many mer who feel the same.”
Part of me wishes he’d elaborate on what he considers appalling so I can try and change his opinion. I don’t know why it’s important for me to have him perceive my world in a positive way. Or maybe I want him to picture me in a pleasant light. I worry I’m not measuring up, which is lame. Instead, I switch gears.
“How many mer are there?”
“In all the oceans, there are about twenty thousand. The numbers used to be triple that. We’re slowly dying off, along with the seas.”
We swim over the destroyed wreckage of a large ship and I stop. Curiosity pulls at me, calling out for me to explore the object, which probably hasn’t seen sunlight in at least fifty years. The bow is buried in a layer of silt, leaving the rear of the ship to stick up at an angle. Many of the details lie in shadow.
“Can we check it out?”
Nerio gazes around carefully, then nods. “Keep your senses open. They will alert you if danger is nearby. We’ll spare a few minutes.”
I follow him down and most of the light from above fades, more than I’d experienced before. What happens to my sight startles me. I have night vision! The darkness lightens to a soft gray and I can actually see everything. Then, a valid concern hits me.
“Why doesn’t the pressure affect us at this depth?”
“The same way it doesn’t affect a regular fish. Our bodies have adapted to it. You’ll know when you are too deep.”
I swim closer to the wreck. The metal is almost rusted through, but judging from the turrets and broken antennas, it used to be a naval ship. I reach out and touch the corroded remnants of a big gun, clouding the water with rust, and wonder how many souls were lost when it sank. For people who are not used to it, the sea would be a scary place to die. The vast empty space is so cold and dark. It’s no wonder ancient sailors were both fascinated and terrified of being taken into the ocean’s depths.
“You’d be surprised how many of these are down here,” Nerio interrupts my contemplation, his intense gaze locked on the wreckage. “Human wars are horrible. As hard as I try, I can’t fathom that level of hate. For the most part, we are peaceful.”
“If mer are so peaceful, how come you’re a guard?”
Absently, he fingers the sheath housing the sword slung across his chest. Foreign symbols and etchings run along it and my gaze shifts to the broad chest beneath. “Mostly, we’re for ceremonial purposes. We have had wars and uprisings, but not often. There are rumors of unrest and a lot of us are worried.” Catching himself he adds, “But I shouldn’t say.”
“You mean because of the strange weather?”
He nods, his expression turning to steel, giving me the impression he has a deep sense of duty in him. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m not sure anyone has. It requires a lot of power to unleash that kind of fury.”
“So, you think it might be a mer who’s doing it?” I ask, remembering the merwitch Kona and Galina mentioned.
“There’s no other explanation. The state of the oceans has
been deteriorating steadily for decades, but this is too serious, too sudden. It can only be someone with tremendous power.”
I fully intend to reply, but his proximity derails my train of thought. There’s a small scar along his left cheekbone, but instead of marring his face, it adds depth and character. His pupils are so dark I could fall into them. My imagination plays tricks on me and I swear the heat coming off him sears into me. We exist in our own little world for one precious second.
Until Kona spirals down between us and breaks the spell. I’m glad, because I have to catch my breath. It’d be stupid to develop a crazy crush on a merman. I mean, I’m a novelty. The freak half-breed, of course he’ll be interested. Plus there’s the fact he appears to hate my kind.
He retracts, putting a respectable distance between us. “Come on, let’s get moving again.”
Kona and I follow wordlessly. Nerio plays the part of silent guard flawlessly, rarely smiling, and stays ahead, just far enough that I can’t question him anymore. What exactly happened at the wreck? My heart is still racing.
I brush it off. No need to take it personally.
Chapter Fourteen
The farther south we travel, the more diverse the fish become. They’re big and vibrant, set apart by the simplest and grandest of differences. Two silver ones swim side-by-side, nearly identical, although the shapes of their fins and contour of their bodies identify them as two distinct species. The variety is endless.
Even at the safe depth Nerio keeps us at, we don’t pass unnoticed. I’m growing used to the sea creatures and how they react to me. Sea anemones reach their pink and purple tentacles up, stretching and waving in the current as I pass by. A school of tiny fish swirl around me, tickling my skin and making me giggle. A huge tuna approaches cautiously and tracks me with its bulbous eye.
Into the Deep Page 7
