“I’ll take you around the side,” Manx said, leading me down a path away from the others.
The walkway at the side of the mansion was lined with flowers. I bent to breathe in their perfume. Intoxicating. The ocean did have its own beauty. Nothing was more stunning than a bloom of iridescent jellyfish or when the seaweed filled the water with an aromatic scent. I loved the kelp forests, but the simple blossom’s rich fragrance surprised me.
“Gardenia,” Manx said, picking a blossom and stuffing it behind my ear. He brushed a stray hair away from my forehead. “It brings out colors in your hair.”
“Colors?”
Manx grinned. “Come see.”
We entered a side door to the mansion. Inside the entryway was a gold-trimmed mirror. Manx stood me before it. I stared at myself. It was strange to see myself with legs, my shimmering blue tail gone. But my hair…it had always been dark, highlighted by the blue waves. Dry, however, my dark hair was shimmering with highlights of purple and blue, my hair glimmering with a magenta hue. I gazed up at Manx. Under the bright human lights, his dark hair also carried a bluish tint.
“Won’t the humans notice?”
“No,” Manx said, shaking his head. “They’ll believe it is artifice. They love to play with the color of their hair. They even have a hair color that is the same as Indigo’s. Humans are stupid, cruel, and stupid. It’s hard to believe we ever warred with such creatures. We are sharks gliding among manatees.”
I turned from Manx and looked back at my reflection. My skin looked very pale under the bright light. But my eyes were still clear blue.
“Come,” Manx said. Taking my hand, he led me forward.
Even though it was hot outside, the air in the house was extremely cool. Covered only with the light robe, my skin rose in bumps. The chilly air froze my bare toes. The unnatural light felt over-bright. It hurt my eyes.
We came to a large staircase. “Let me carry you,” Manx said, and then, without waiting for my reply, he picked me up. “You’re just getting used to your legs. The stairs are trickier than they look.”
He lifted me gently and carried me up the stairs to the mansion's second floor. I wanted to resist him, feeling indignant about being carried, but his embrace was comforting. I appreciated his thoughtfulness. Maybe, just maybe, I could become accustomed to him. After all, it wasn’t like I would ever see the nagual again. I would be married to Manx the following night.
Manx pushed open the door to reveal a massive bedroom suite. He set me down slowly on the marble-tiled floors.
“Pangi?” he called.
“Here,” a singsong voice called back.
It took me a minute to steady myself. The large room was decorated beautifully. There was an enormous white-wood bed draped with gauzy blue fabric. The bed cover, trimmed with sparkling beads, matched in color. On the walls were paintings of the ocean and of mermaids. How handsomely the humans had painted us.
“Oh, my king, my princess, welcome,” Pangi called out once she spotted us.
I remembered her just a little. A pretty mermaid with flowing rose-gold colored hair, she’d gone to exile around the same time as Roald. She and Indigo had been close friends. I remembered Indigo crying at Pangi’s exile ceremony. She’d told me later that Pangi was some distant relative of ours, but the mermaid and I had never traveled in the same circles.
“Pangi, help Ink get ready and then bring her downstairs.”
“Of course! Oh, Lady Ink, wait until you see what your king has done for you. All these human clothes and jewels. You are outfitted like a human princess. Here, I chose this dress for you. Do you like it?” Pangi asked, rushing from Manx and me to the bed, where she picked up a pale pink gown made of soft material.
“Not that one,” Manx said. He crossed the room and opened the double doors to a large closet I realized was stuffed with clothing. “This,” he said, handing Pangi a short black gown with sparkles that shimmered like our tails.
“Open back. Good idea. Everyone will see her tribal mark.”
“What does that matter?” I asked.
“Well, everyone knows about your tribal. The Gulfs say—”
“Don’t talk her to death. Just her get dressed,” Manx said, shooting her a sharp look. He then turned to me. “I’ll go greet our guests. Are you all right here?”
What was I going to say? “I’m fine. Thank you for everything.”
“Of course, my princess,” he said with a wink and then left.
“Oh, you’re going to look beautiful in this,” Pangi said, laying the garment on the bed. “Now, let’s get you out of this robe and dressed. Everyone is waiting to meet you. I have to warn you that it's wild down there, but you’ll get used to it. Mer ways on land are different,” she said, gently unbelting my robe and pulling it off my shoulders. “Wow, it’s even more impressive now. Come look,” Pangi said, then pulled me to a mirror.
I stood naked before my reflection. The large mark on my back had changed during my transformation. Now, it took up my whole back. Its strange design played tricks on the eye. At times, it almost seemed to move.
“What do people say about my tribal mark?” I asked Pangi.
“Well, you know how it is for our tribe. We don’t pay much attention to our marks other than them indicating we’re drywalkers,” she said, turning to show me the mark on the side of her neck. It was small and shaped a bit like a turtle. “But to the Gulfs,” Pangi continued, “the marks are significant. They tell about your fate and your strengths. The bigger the mark, the more powerful the mer. All the Gulfs know about you. Your mark is a rumor, legendary among them. Seems like you’re quite the mystery to them. No wonder they wanted you for Manx. Surely they will send you to see their cecaelia so she can read your mark.”
“A cecaelia? I thought such creatures were long dead.”
“I’ve never seen her. The Gulfs have her stashed away somewhere. They have a lot of secrets like that. They are different from us, Ink. They,” she began, then paused and looked toward the door, “…they are very superstitious. They have their own ways, ways we don’t practice.”
“They don’t worship the Great Mother Ocean as we do?”
Pangi shook her head. “I don’t know. We are not invited to their practices. But I’ve seen things. You saw the mamiwata?”
I nodded.
“Another creature under their protection. They say in the swamps of Louisiana, the Gulf mers practice very old magic. Strange things are happening here on land, Ink.” She suddenly turned quieter, more serious. Her bubbly persona faded. She met my gaze in the mirror. “Something has happened among the suffocators. They’ve all but disappeared. Please don’t tell Manx I told you. Roald will know more. I just didn’t want you to walk into the situation blind. I don’t know how much Creon and Isla know, but it’s good that Creon chose you. The Gulfs don’t know you, Ink. All they know is you are a princess with an amazing tribal mark. Don’t show them your real self, the strong Ink we know. We know what and who our princess really is, the orphaned daughter of Dauphin and Coral. We know what that means. We’ve all suffered because of the Gulfs. Let them think you’re soft. Be cautious. Keep your eyes open. And above all else, don’t trust anyone.” She painted a fake smile and said, “Now, let’s get you in that dress. Your king is waiting.”