115

The Mer

Queen Ha-Lah

Nautilus Beach, Strait of Medusa

MAR-EL

 

“I do not like this,” my husband shared something that I was in no doubt about, considering his expression and the way he held his body.

We stood in the sand on the empty beach, the pre-dawn wind whipping about us, and we did this holding hands.

“I will be fine,” I assured.

“You could catch a chill,” he returned. “It is coming on winter and that water—”

I squeezed his hand. “Aramus, I am Mer, my darling. I do not feel it.”

He glowered down at me.

I leaned into him and gave him a reassuring smile.

“We are here while all are still abed. No one can see us. I will go, then I will return, hopefully with new allies in the seas.”

Close to the end of my words, I noted I was losing his attention as his gaze drifted to the ocean.

It was then I felt it, so intent on assuring my king, its coming did not register with me.

Thus, I whirled and but only glanced at the waters before my hand tightened in his and I shouted, “Run!”

Aramus did not need me to share this warning, he was already bracing to drag me up the beach.

Thus, together, we bolted up the shore.

His boots sunk in the sand, and I lost a slipper before I’d taken two steps, the other one on the third, but the both of us knew it was useless as the roar of the water filled our ears.

This was why Aramus tossed me to the sand. And I had barely hit before he was throwing himself bodily over me.

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, just as the tidal landed on his back.

Being dragged uncontrollably into the sea, I wrapped an arm around him too, cupping the back of his head with my other hand and pulling his mouth to mine.

I opened my lips, he opened his, thus our lips were sealed, and we held to each other tightly as the power of the seas drug us deep.

I felt my legs knitting, the scales pressing through the skin as they formed, my gills opening, while the water twisted us and towed us, flipped us and twirled us.

I knew only one thing in the tumult, I had to keep hold of my husband, and I had to keep his mouth to mine, breathing air into him, until it was over.

For if I did this, no matter how deep it swept us out to sea, I could take him with me as I swam back.

I simply had to keep him alive until the furor was over, and we could surface.

Aramus knew this was my strategy, thus he held my head to his as I did the same and locked his long legs around my scaly hips.

We could do this, together.

I could help him survive.

I would help him survive.

All we had to do was hold on.

On this thought, he was ripped from my arms.

My underwater scream formed large bubbles as I began to flip my fin to regain my hold on my king, but I got nowhere, and not only because I froze at what I saw before me.

Hands had seized me under my arms.

I turned my head to the side and looked angrily at one of the mermales who had a hold on me and was drawing me deeper into the sea.

My watery words I knew he could hear.

“He cannot breathe!” I screamed, violently trying to pull at his hold.

The mermale remained facing forward, his grip on me unbreakable as we swam deeper.

“The pressure!” I shrieked.

The male just glanced at me and carried on swimming.

I tugged and fought as we followed the males dragging my husband into the depths of the ocean, my heart beating a fierce tattoo, my mind sending messages to my friends to come and save me.

Save me.

And my husband.

Save us…

From my people.

I saw the dolphins, and the octopi, even a few whales in the distance.

But I did not think to call out to them as I also saw the manner in which Aramus’s body floated in the hold of the mermales before us.

“No!” I screeched.

He could not be dead.

Please, no.

He could not be dead.

My mind scrambled.

How long had he been separated from me?

Too long.

Oh, Medusa.

He could not be dead!

I struggled with all I had against the hold on me.

“You will calm, maid,” the mermale on my other side demanded.

“You will let me go!” I shouted.

“You are not queen here, Ha-Lah,” he told me.

No, I was not.

Sirens dammit.

“By the gods, by Medusa, by the sirens,” I chanted, so fraught, I paid no heed to the dim light I could now see shining from below.

Where we were heading.

All right.

I had to think.

My beloved was the Sea King.

The Mer would not kill the Sea King. His line was chosen by the gods. Triton and Medusa would be furious.

My people would do naught to anger the gods. Especially not Triton and Medusa, whose loved created the Mer. Mer revered Triton and Medusa almost past reasoning.

I knew, for I was Mer and I did too.

Thus, they must be taking him to air, and doing it swiftly, for they swam much faster than us.

These thoughts assailing me, it was only vaguely I noted the ocean floor as it became awash with bright blooms of sea anemone, not as if they grew naturally, but as if we were entering a garden.

Ahead of us, the males dragged Aramus’s body through a slim opening which was the source of the light. This opening being a slit in a great cavern.

There would be air there, I prayed.

There had to be air there.

My captors and I entered behind them.

We swam through a tunnel, me trying to make them do it faster, the light becoming brighter and brighter, before I noticed, my heart slamming in my chest, Aramus and his abductors dipping low, apparently entering a larger section.

Going down was not good.

They must endeavor to go up.

All right.

They had to know what they were doing.

He would be fine.

They would keep him alive.

He was the Sea King.

They were surely taking him to a bubble of air.

I knew there were pockets of air under the surface. They were how, in times millennia ago, the Mer had adapted to being able to breathe outside the water, as well as in it.

I was pulled into the larger section, a mammoth cavern that went down stories upon stories of what would be human buildings, and up the same. Not to mention, it was so vast across, it could fit half a dozen of the coliseums of Fire City within it.

And I stopped.

I reared back as the massive space around me could be seen, mermaids and males swimming amongst other sea life, anemones sprouting from below and along the tall walls of the vast space, sea lettuce and kelp drifting lazily.

And all around, from the bottom to a top that went so high up, I could not see its end, there appeared to be doors or windows, the latter with lights shining through. Some even had what appeared to be window boxes tucked with sea lettuce and anemone and trailing vines of seaweed.

These were dwellings.

But I could pay very little mind to that.

Or to where they took my husband.

For right before me floated a mermale, the largest I’d ever seen who also had the longest, most powerful fin I’d ever beheld. His tail had to be at least fifteen feet long, curling behind him.

I didn’t even know merfins could get that long.

His chest was wide. His muscles pronounced. The definition of his stomach indented. The veins along his forearms distended.

His hair was long and jet black.

His beard was thick and distinct, the swoop of whiskers guiding from his beard up to the bottom edge of his lower lip something, in other circumstances, I might find fascinating.

His thick, dark eyebrows were drawn.

His eyes were a startling silver I had seen before.

He was carrying a fearsome trident in one fist.

He scowled at me before he growled, “Welcome, Ha-Lah.”

And then he turned on a supple swell and swam ahead of us.

We followed, straight to another sea wall, swimming down, to and through a tall, arched doorway that was adorned with floating anemone and set with seashells and pearls in an extraordinary pattern I did not have it within me to appreciate at that time.

Beyond the arch, we swam through another tunnel into another open underwater pool, and then we swam upwards.

My gills closed instantly as we made a glassy surface that only broke with the most gentle of ripples at our emergence.

Here, I saw we were in a grotto that had an island in the middle on which was built a magnificent half dome, the opening pointed my way, that seemed to shine with an ethereal bright pearly light.

And on the smooth rocks that formed the island’s base, beyond the opening to the dome, lay my husband.

I also saw the merman who had met us had formed legs and he was walking, nude, up the rocks of the island, his trident still in his hand.

I pulled viciously at the hold on me, and I did not pause to register surprise when they easily released me.

I also did not look at the variety of Mer bobbing about in the pool around me, or the ones that milled about on the island, including the mermaid who was handing the silver-eyed, raven-haired mermale a pair of trousers.

I struck out toward my husband.

I ignored the pain of the split I felt as I closed in on the island and formed legs.

I just found my feet on the rocks in the shallows and ran through them, my sodden gown slapping against my skin.

Aramus was on his side, his back to me, and I fell to me knees when I reached him, pressing him to his back, battling fear and hysteria and a pain so overwhelming, it threatened to consume me.

His eyes were closed.

My king looked to be asleep.

Oh, Medusa.

Maybe he had not survived that swim.

Or maybe the weight of the sea had crushed his innards, made pulp of his brain.

Regardless of these thoughts, I pressed against his chest, holding to hope that it was just water in his lungs, thinking fast about how, once I revived him, I could get him back to the surface. Back to the beach.

Back home.

As I pumped, I lifted my accusatory gaze to the silver-eyed male who stood, now wearing trousers that appeared to be subtly gilded leathers, the shine against the gray material shimmering a light aqua and silver.

He was leaning negligently on his bloody trident.

“You sent that tidal!” I bit.

“If you spent time amongst your people, Ha-Lah,” his deep voice returned to me, “you would know, with the magic of a Mer, if a human has the touch of one of our own, we can take him or her anywhere we wish, even to the bottom of the deepest depths of the sea.”

I stopped pressing against Aramus’s chest as relief flooded through me, and with it came the ability to gather my wits enough to look down upon my husband and see he was breathing.

This was joyous.

And I felt that joy.

But our abduction was anything but.

And thus, I felt fury.

I lifted squinty eyes at the male.

He shook his head, muttering with disgust, “The land Mer. So intent on passing, they forget who they are.”

“The decision to remain on land was not made by me, male,” I snapped. “It was made generations before my existence was even a hope.”

“But have you visited us?” he asked, opening a hand and using it to indicate our surroundings. “Have you come to be amongst your people?”

“No,” I spat. “And it would appear it was a smart decision, as I am not feeling much delight at the manner of my first invitation here.”

The male glowered at me, and I assumed, quite rightly in my mind, that meant my point was taken.

“And I was amongst my people on the surface,” I went on. “Or have you forsaken us as it’s clear you feel I have forsaken you?”

He had no answer to that either.

I decided not to pursue that line of questioning any longer, for something vastly more important took precedence.

“Why does my husband sleep?” I demanded.

“He was struggling. If his guards lost hold on him, he would die. Necessity urged he lose consciousness. Thus…” he trailed off on a shrug and an indication with a tip of his head to Aramus.

“When will he wake?” I asked.

The male shrugged. “He will be fine.”

With some difficulty (it must be said, my husband was bulky), I pulled Aramus’s torso up and held him to me as I kept my gaze pinned on the mermale.

“Why did you send the tidal?”

“You were coming to us, were you not?” he asked.

I did not request to know how he knew this.

“I was,” I amended. “My husband was not.”

“But I wished to speak to the king of the sea.”

“Well, you can’t speak to him if he’s unconscious,” I pointed out.

“Settle, maid,” he rumbled. “You are amongst your own here.”

“I thought he was dead,” I spat, hearing my husband breathe steadily, feeling the warmth return to his skin now that he was no longer in the chill of the sea, neither of these wiping away the fear and misery of the last ten minutes.

“Did you think to come and demand an audience, and aid in correcting the ruin you made of the surface, at your whim?” he asked.

Belatedly, important things were dawning on me.

Starting with the fact he knew much that I did not understand how he knew.

But onward from that, and the priority in the moment, something else.

Thus, I adjusted my tone when I noted, “I see you’re angry with me.”

“You?” he returned. “No. Him?” He jerked his trident toward my husband. “Yes.”

Oh no.

I held Aramus closer.

“He knows I am Mer, and he accepts this,” I shared.

“Bully for him,” he clipped.

Hmm.

I decided to begin again.

“You know I am Ha-Lah, Queen of Mar-el. But I do not know you.”

“I am Jorie, King of the Mer.”

Well, it was advantageous to know I’d been directed right to the top.

Except if the one at the top wasn’t terribly thrilled to see you.

“There is much happening on the surface,” I shared.

“There is always much happening there.”

“It may be the end of Triton.”

“And this concerns us how?” he demanded.

This was not going well.

“We have reason to believe the Beast wakes,” I informed him. “My husband feels—”

“Oh, he wakes. And he will make the surface,” Jorie confirmed. Finishing ominously, “Soon.”

I had no response to that, partially because Jorie seemed so unconcerned, but I, on the other hand, was very much the opposite.

He explained this presently.

“We took care of this the last time for the humans of Triton, and where did it get us?”

I knew very well where it got my people.

At first, I had no response to this either.

And then I asked, “If you are so angry, if you wish to remain detached, if you do not wish to come to the aid of Triton, then why do you want to speak to my husband? Why did you pull him and I under? Why are we here?”

He scowled at me.

He did this for quite some time.

And then he said words that seemed dragged from him.

But they were words that gave me hope.

“I wish to meet my sister.”