Mermagic

by Lucia Ashta

  But this merqueen, the one who radiated light and magic, might become a part of my future. Nothing about my life thus far had resulted as I’d expected. I had no greater idea of what might come next, but I did have a feeling, the kind I’d learned not to ignore.

  And apparently Urlan was experiencing it too. She took both my hands in hers and said, “I believe I shall see you again, Lady Clara.”

  I met those magenta eyes and thought I could stare into them forever. “I believe so.” I’d remember every fleck of sparkling fuchsia until such time, and I’d remember the way her magic traveled through my hands and up my arms as if it alone could sustain me, activate me, forge me into something new.

  But it wasn’t just Urlan’s magic, it was mine too. For whoever and whatever I was in the process of more fully becoming, I was alive with it.

  The five-petal knot burned to life in my heart, glowing through my chest. I didn’t have to look to see it. The glow of my magic reflected in Urlan’s eyes.

  Just as her magic ran through my arms, filling me, my magic flowed into her.

  Her eyes widened. “I imagine when I see you next, you’ll be so bright I’ll have to squint to look at you.”

  “I imagine so.” I didn’t know where the answer came from, but I didn’t want to take it back.

  With reluctance, I disconnected from Urlan and went where the glow of Marcelo’s promise ring led me: to him, to his side, because he was a part of my future, and he was a part of my growing magic. After all, hadn’t Mordecai’s runes predicted that there was power in our connection?

  The same runes that predicted that someone would arrive to lead the magical community into a new age.

  Well I was that someone. I was that witch, and I was ready to fulfill my role.

  With Marcelo at my side.

  It was time to leave the water, because it was time to marry the man I loved, the only one who could’ve awakened me to who and what I was, the woman I was meant to become.

  Chapter 27

  Grand-mère was the last to leave, taking her time with her farewells to Urlan, the rest of the merpeople, and especially Randolph, whom she obviously didn’t want to leave. But there could be no doubt he’d fare well without her, with all the attention the merpeople continued to lavish on him, and finally, Grand-mère swam upward to join the rest of us.

  The ascent from the ocean bottom was faster than the descent, but it was still long, reminding us just how far below the shoreline beneath Bundry Castle we’d really been.

  And it was dark. As soon as we left the glowing orbs of the mervillage behind, we’d relied on the interior glow of the five-petal knot, which seeped through my skin. It illuminated our way, but not enough to negate the sensation that the weight of the entire ocean pressed in on us, bearing down.

  At first, Mordecai, with Albacus right beside him, had been the one to lead Anna out of the water, but she wasn’t faring well, going first into the darkness, even if she couldn’t see the spirit that buttressed her on the other side.

  Once Mordecai moved Anna next to me, where Brave flanked her on one side and Marcelo the other, she began to do better, but the urgency of getting her out of the ocean became even more evident. It’d all been too much for her, and she was in visible shock.

  “She’ll be fine,” Marcelo said, noticing the concern on my face. “She’ll come out of this.”

  I wasn’t so sure. At least Carlton had been a magician, but Anna wasn’t. Still, she worked in a castle that was home to magicians. She must’ve seen something along the way that couldn’t be explained away by the rules of the ordinary world, the non-magical one.

  I hoped Marcelo was right and she’d bounce back.

  “This way,” Mordecai said. “I think we’re off track.”

  Mordecai was leading us, and I was happy to concede the role. We’d swam far to reach the mervillage, over a mountain and a trench and who-knew how many leagues, and there were few definite landmarks beneath the water to guide us, especially when we could only see a few body lengths in any given direction.

  But Mordecai seemed to be managing it, with Albacus’ help. Together, as a team, the brothers were strongest. I hoped they’d find the way to deliver us directly to the shore beneath Bundry Castle, where I’d left my pile of discarded clothing.

  The more we swam, the more exhaustion set in. I was ready for a burning hearth and whatever might pass as home.

  “Yes, this way,” Mordecai said, and the rest of us adjusted course to follow.

  “Marcelo,” I said, a thought striking me, “How did you manage to find us? We were really far away from the Bundry shoreline, we must’ve been.”

  Grand-mère chuckled and I looked over my shoulder for her, in the fading light. “What’s so funny, Grand-mère?” I called back without pinpointing exactly where she was.

  “Oh nothing, chérie,” she said, and it was exactly the kind of nothing that definitely meant something.

  “What?” I asked again, this time to Marcelo.

  “I suspect Ariadne notices the bond between us.”

  “You could say that,” she said on another chuckle, implying I was the only one there that didn’t see something, other than Anna, whose eyes were still glazed over.

  “What do you mean? How did you find me?” I’d lost whatever patience I had in the last quarter hour of swimming, when every one of my muscles registered how fatigued my entire system was. Now that the fight was gone and the night had drawn long, I was fading quickly.

  “Let’s just say I found you, no one else.”

  I started to say something, but before I could complain about his ambiguity, he continued. “I followed the ties that bond us.”

  “Explain,” I said tightly, curiously, tiredly.

  “I feel you always now. I just followed the ring that binds us already.”

  “You can feel my ring?”

  “Absolutely. I followed it to you as easily as if you’d left me a trail of string.”

  “But we’re not married yet.”

  “That doesn’t matter. We’re bonded in the heart. As long as our hearts are connected, I’ll always find you.”

  “You promise?” I said before I could wonder why I’d say something like that.

  “I promise. And if you’re lost, I’ll guide you back.”

  I didn’t think he knew why he was saying that either, but I supposed I was glad to hear it.

  “Look at your hand,” he said. “See, your ring is glowing. So long as we’re connected, it can do that, and it can point me to you.”

  “I’m glad it led you to me this time, that’s for sure.” If Marcelo hadn’t arrived, and Brave with him, things might have gone very differently. Washur might’ve claimed more than one life before we took his, or worse, he might still live.

  We fell into silence at how close we’d all come to losing that which we were unwilling to lose. The minutes ticked by and drew out, each stroke and each kick bringing us gradually closer to land.

  Finally, just as I’d begun to think I wouldn’t be able to swim much longer, Albacus said, “There, we’re almost there.”

  Even the spirit, who couldn’t grow tired, sounded excited, and the rest of us imbued every reserve of energy we had into our last strokes.

  It wasn’t as close as Albacus suggested it was, but eventually, we broke the surface of the water. Six loud splashes and deep gasps for air marked our emergence from the depths of the ocean. Albacus, the seventh among us, was silent as he slipped through the water as easily as he’d now slip through everything.

  Anna seemed to blink back to life with the real air, and I was filled with hope for her. Marcelo was correct, she’d be all right. Life in Bundry seemed to instill resilience in all its residents.

  The air felt glorious across my face as we all blinked rapidly while we adjusted from the darkness. Above us, the sun was in the midst of breaking the horizon, lighting up the sky just in time for our arrival.

  But more brilliant even than the su
nshine, and the knowledge that most of us had managed to survive the night, was the sight of my little sister.

  Not Mina but Gertrude, in her full, glorious human body, waited amid our reception party. The two firedrakes, Sylvia and Mathieu, and Sir Lancelot were there, and Gertrude stood next to a man who could only be our great uncle Gustave—he looked so similar to Grand-mère.

  My little sister looked marvelous... and like she was exactly where she belonged, at ease in the midst of magicians and magical creatures.

  The pygmy owl cried out, “There they are! They’ve arrived!” just as I sloshed through the water until it was low enough that I could run.

  The remaining distance between my little sister and me flew by.

  And then, at long last, she was in my embrace.

  Chapter 28

  Now that Gertrude and I were reunited, I didn’t want to ever let go of her, and it was with great reluctance that I finally did.

  I took in the sight of my little sister, who looked very different than she did when I last saw her in human form. “I’ve missed you so much, and look at this, you’ve grown into a young woman since I last saw you.”

  “Well, it’s been several years since you left Norland and we last saw each other, Clara.” Gertrude sounded sad about it, about all the time we could’ve shared and didn’t.

  “I know, and I missed you every single day. I wanted to see you, I wanted to write you and let you know I was alive, but the others told me it’d endanger you, so I didn’t.” I took her in, the little sister who’d been my solace while I was at Norland Manor, and I experienced the pain of missing her all those years like a stab in the chest. I flung myself back into her arms. “Oh Gertrude, I missed you so much.” I was crying, I couldn’t help it. I’d feared this moment might never come. “And once I learned you were with that terrible, awful sorcerer, Washur, I feared for your life, for your well-being.”

  Suddenly panicked, I pulled back enough to look into her face, those features that so closely resembled my own. “Are you all right? Did Count Washur... hurt you? Did anyone hurt you once you left Norland?”

  “They tried. Winston tried first and I kicked him so hard in the, uh, unmentionable areas, that he didn’t try to touch me again. When Count Washur tried to claim his right as my husband, I did the same since it worked so well with Winston. Washur became so angry at me that he transformed me into a cat in a fit of rage, and then I remained that way until just a while ago.”

  “Did Great Uncle Gustave transform you back or did it happen all on its own?”

  “All on its own, how’d you know?”

  “Because Count Washur died, and when he did, it appears he took all of his magic with him. So you’re forever free of him.”

  I felt Gertrude’s body relax beneath my hold.

  “So being Mina the cat turned out to be a surprise blessing then?”

  “Yes. I could tell Washur was deliberating whether to change me back or not, but every time he started to, I’d hiss and spit or whatever I could think of, assuring him I wouldn’t make the process of bedding me a pleasant experience. Then he became too consumed with you and your friends to worry much about me.”

  “It isn’t always clear in the moment what the blessings are, is it? I feared you were suffering as a cat, when it was what was saving you from harm… when I couldn’t do anything to protect you.”

  A cry slipped loose at the thought of my little sister at the mercy of such despicable men, and Gertrude, always thinking of me, settled a hand against my head to comfort me. “You did what you could, Clara, I know that, and if it weren’t for you, I’d be a bloody clump of fur decaying beneath Washur Castle. You saved my life.”

  I had, but I’d also indirectly endangered it. After all, Count Washur wouldn’t have had any interest in Gertrude if he hadn’t been trying to claim me and my power.

  Gertrude pushed me away from her enough to look into my eyes, those eyes that matched hers, except for the unique streak she had going through one of her irises. “Clara,” she said softly, but with power, “you flew.”

  She let her words hang in the air in front of us.

  While she focused on what I’d become in my absence from her life, I looked at her and I really saw her. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, but it went far beyond the changes of her body. There was something alive in her, something in her eyes, that conveyed strength... and magic. I’d left a little sister behind only to meet her again as a young woman capable of becoming a skilled witch.

  “You look so well, Gertrude. So beautiful, so... powerful.”

  She didn’t bother denying it.

  “So you have magic too, obviously?”

  “Oh yes, and lots of it. It’s funny, isn’t it? Mother and Father went out of their way to teach us that magic was an ugly, terrible thing, something that delivered shame and wickedness.”

  I smiled gently. I still felt too raw for anything more. “And look at us now. Two witches.”

  “From the look of it, two powerful witches.”

  I studied her some more. “It seems like it.” At first, I’d shrunken from my power, then I’d doubted it; I’d only recently begun to feel comfortable in my new role. Whether or not I understood, it didn’t matter. I was a witch, with a new way of accessing the pure essence of the five elements of all magic.

  But Gertrude had always been stronger and braver than me, even as a young girl. Already, she hummed with power, and I didn’t think she’d had the chance to train. Count Washur wouldn’t have taught her anything.

  I squeezed her arms. “Oh no! You’re all wet.”

  Her lips tilted into mischief. It was a look I recognized from our times together as girls, doing what we weren’t supposed to be doing. “And you, my sister, are all naked. You’ve certainly come a long way in shedding Mother’s ideas of propriety. Imagine what she’d say if she saw you?”

  “Ugh. I don’t want to.” I stepped away and searched for the pile of clothes I’d abandoned earlier that night.

  “Well I wish I could see Mother now. She’d probably have a fainting fit while she tumbled over her words in rage.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Spare me the image. I’ve had enough of Mother’s nonsense to last me.” Though this time, she might have a point. I was naked as the day Marcelo rescued me from the merworld—in front of everyone I knew.

  But I wasn’t the only one. Grand-mère didn’t even bother dressing before greeting her brother or Gertrude. Mordecai, Marcelo, and Brave were heading toward their discarded clothing too.

  I’d seen plenty of all of them while in the water—some of which I wished I could unsee—but Gertrude hadn’t, and I noticed her tracking the men while they moved across the stones of the shore. No, not the men, just one of them.

  “He’s a good man,” I said.

  “Who?” she looked up at me, innocence hastily arranged across her face.

  I wasn’t falling for it. “You know exactly who. He’s still discovering who he is separate from the man Count Washur tried to make him out to be, but I believe he’ll find his way. He’s the one who killed Count Washur.”

  “Really?” She turned to me, surprised.

  “Yeah. He has strength in him, that’s for sure. Count Washur was more than a father to him, he was a tyrant, who even had spells in place to control him. Washur called on one of the spells to control him underwater, but Brave was stronger. He fought against Washur’s spell and won.”

  “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

  “Neither did I, but he did it. Just don’t ever call him Salazar. That name is the one Count Washur gave him and attached the spell to. That name should die with the Count.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll call him Brave. The name seems to suit him just fine.”

  “Yes it does,” and I had the feeling my sister would be using the name quite a lot in the future.

  When Brave sensed her eyes on him and turned to meet her gaze, I was sure of it.

  I smiled at the back
of Gertrude’s head, at the long, wild red locks that tangled in the wind of the dusk. Her eyes were locked with his.

  “I love you,” I whispered to her, thinking she wouldn’t hear me.

  But she did, and she turned back to me. “I love you too, Clara. I’m so glad to be reunited with you. I feel whole again.”

  And then she turned back toward Brave.

  Chapter 29

  The rest of the events of that early morning melded into a swirl of sounds and images as exhaustion finally took hold of me and refused to let go. My arms and legs were wobbly from the hours of swimming and the aftermath of facing Count Washur and Mirvela and their ever-constant threats of death.

  I struggled to stay awake for the happy reunions and introductions, but I barely managed it. I fell asleep in Marcelo’s arms before we even made it up the cliff, and my last memory was of Marcelo sweeping me off the ground and against his chest.

  Until I woke, alone, in the yellow room that had once been Clarissa’s. Marcelo’s sister had died at Count Washur’s hands when she was younger than Gertrude. It was a tragic end, but one imbued now, I believed, with hope. Clarissa’s son and her brother had found each other, against all odds and Count Washur’s dastardly intentions. I was certain that, together, Marcelo and Brave would find the way to make something good of the tragedy, to bring forth light from the well of darkness, to honor Clarissa’s memory through their resilience.

  It was the best they could do. Death seemed to be the one thing in magic that Mordecai and Albacus insisted you shouldn’t undo, and they weren’t overly respectful of the rules of the magical world.

  When I rang for someone to help me dress, Anna arrived, and I sat up in bed, surprised. “Anna! I didn’t expect to see you today. How are you?”

  “I’m well, Milady, thank you for asking.”

  “You look quite well, Anna. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “Of course I am, Milady, why shouldn’t I be?”