The Wild Mermaid Read online

  The sound of his voice found its way into her body, shaking her without physically moving her. At first, it was like a tickle, somewhat pleasant and a little like pain.

  She looked to her fin, stunned to see it stitch itself together. It was the only evidence she had of the fiery transformation consuming her body.

  Triton swam onto the stage, and Cora’s traitorous heart thudded at the sight. Sarina grabbed her hand, holding her tight. The contact grounded Cora to her mission, even as her faithless mind yearned to return to Triton.

  Triton smiled and sprinted toward Maestro—but with a surprising smile, Maestro sang his final phrase.

  The last shadow of him dissipated, transforming into seawater. Gone.

  Then the final wave of his lifeforce barraged Cora’s body. She writhed on the cushions, struggling to take the power of it into her body.

  She cried out, to think it was Maestro who was gone, his strength that was changing her. She longed to grieve, to think, to say goodbye.

  But no.

  Cora snapped her eyes open, forcing herself to embrace the power of her new, burning body. She was different. Stronger, clearer.

  She turned to Sarina and saw her hair had returned to its normal dark shade, her fin salmon. Her skin grew taught. She was young again, glowing just like an immortal.

  She clenched Sarina’s hand and released. Together, they pressed upward, toward the open ocean. Up, up, and up. There was no chance to look down, no reason to turn around. She had to face the future.

  “Cora!” Triton screamed, frustration lacing his voice.

  Cora tried to block her ears and searched for a song to sing. Anything to distract herself from the sound of his voice.

  Yet he continued, “You may escape now, my darling, but you will never be able to hide from me. I will always find you, so why flee?”

  Even as Cora swam away, his words had sway. She hesitated, slowing her stroke. Maybe Triton was right—she would never be able to escape him. If that were true, was this worth the fight, worth Maestro…

  “Go!” The command jolted her back to life.

  Kyla had shouted! She was still there!

  The force of her command and the strength of her will broke Triton’s hold on Cora, at least for a moment.

  But that was enough.

  Cora crested the top of the recital hall and chased after Sarina. Together, they swam into the faster currents, seeking the quickest routes. They fled the great city of Atlantis.

  Chapter Fifteen:

  Into the Depths

  Maestro’s deathsong fueled them.

  Feeding off that burst of power, they pushed their muscles, finding their bodies to be stronger and faster than anyone who could chase them. They journeyed to the Caverns of Tetheris.

  They followed the rhyme: Eager for the rage of war, Tetheris built caverns in the ocean floor. Colder current they did ride, only to then die. But their rocky labyrinth still remains, a home for all things untame.

  Sarina said they would pass an island when the sun was high in the sky and estimated they’d reach the caves by nightfall. The final marker was the point where the current ran cold.

  While the Tetherean were long gone, their nebulous cave system had once housed an entire army. Over the millennia, the caves had become the perfect home for Atlantean outcasts, those willing to forego the Queen’s gift of immortality.

  Hopefully there would be places for them to hide.

  They swam past the farmland, passing many mortal mers at work. Their tails were left unclipped so they could work more effectively, and Cora listened as they sung. They recited the songs Cora had learned with her pod, seemingly happy and content.

  Some turned to look as Cora and Sarina passed, but no one questioned them. Naturally. With the glow of Maestro’s lifeforce, they appeared as immortals.

  Finally, they passed the last of the farms and reached the open sea. To their relief, they soon found the island Sarina had heard of. Even Sarina questioned the truthfulness of her information.

  Core hoped they’d reach the caves by nightfall. They were a tiny pod—just two—and she feared their safety in the dark open sea. They needed somewhere to hide.

  But what happened then, once they reached the caves? She couldn’t see many options. Not without the physic.

  Sarina was still fuming with Cora over the lost medication, and Cora understood. Their lack of physic terrified Cora too.

  Without it, wasn’t it just a matter of time until they forgot what had happened and lose all they had become? Then they’d become silly mortal mermaids, willing to join whichever migration pod claimed them first.

  That was assuming Triton didn’t find them first. Triton’s final words still rattled in Cora’s head. I will always find you.

  “Are you sure they can’t track us?” Cora asked Sarina again.

  “Stop asking,” Sarina replied. “I’ve already told you that I don’t know, but I don’t think so. This has never happened before, so why would they have a plan for it?”

  And yet, Cora wondered. Triton had a power over her that no one else seemed to have. When she’d been at court, he managed to outshine everyone, even the Queen. Yes, there was this glamour that Maestro had explained…but her connection to Triton seemed like something more.

  Maestro. Thinking back to any of their conversations caused her breath to catch.

  And for the umpteenth time, her mind replayed the memory of his final song. Could she have done something differently? Maybe if she’d been quicker, she could’ve come up with a better plan…but she hadn’t, and Maestro was dead.

  As dead as the guard she’d cursed. She recalled the way his body had floated, life stolen from him in a moment—killed by a reaction she’d barely chosen. A spell Cora had cast to survive.

  She shivered, forcing herself to stop thinking of it. Maybe it was a blessing that the physic was lost. Soon, she’d forget…

  A sea turtle darted in front of her. Playful.

  Cora responded in kind, pulling at its toes and brushing her fin against its shell. It sprinted ahead of her, and she giggled as they began their casual race. She had missed this, the simple pleasure of swimming with the current, the contentment found by sharing her migration with sea creatures.

  Everything about it made her want to sing. “Mermaid pod, sing-along—”

  Sarina pushed her fin against Cora’s. “Stop it. Song can travel.”

  Cora knew that, but she had…forgotten, lost herself to the magic of migration. To think that she hadn’t even skipped a dose of physic yet. She was far too silly, too easily distracted.

  How would she survive without Kyla’s help?

  She knew she’d heard Kyla. Cora hadn’t been the one to overcome Triton’s in the recital hall—Kyla had. Maybe that meant whatever was broken between them could be fixed.

  “Kyla?” she asked herself.

  The vague sense within her replied, ambiguous and without words. Its tone—if it had a tone—was more reassuring than desperate. But maybe that was what Cora wanted to feel.

  Sarina brushed against her. “Do you feel that?”

  The current had gone cold. “We’re here,” Cora replied.

  They dove together, Sarina taking the lead. Cora tried not to get too distracted but allowed herself to spin within Sarina’s draft. She liked having Sarina beside her. Even if her pod was small, she was glad to know she wasn’t alone.

  They plunged deeper into the ocean, quickly reaching depths that only the brightest light could penetrate. Cora’s eyes adjusted to the darkness as her body transitioned to handle the pressure. Atlantis might be a sunlit city, but mers could handle the deep ocean twilight. Soon she could now see shape and movement, even though color was difficult to distinguish.

  They passed fewer and fewer creatures now. Cora’s stomach growled, and she regretted that they hadn’t paused to eat fresh fish during their swim. There wouldn’t be as much to eat down here.

  They swam along the rocky seabed, pa
ssing a few strange fish as they traveled. One blinked with light while another swayed their elongated fins. No algae covered the rocks, for plant-life didn’t grow here. There were no vibrant reefs. Instead, they passed the occasional lanky-limbed starfish, desolate sea sponge, or lone cucumber.

  Not long after they reached the seafloor, they found their first entrance to the cave system. They examined the cave but moved on. They passed on the second one as well, but by the time they reached the third, they’d seen enough to feel secure, to be confident that there were so many caves that Triton wouldn’t know where to look. He couldn’t find them here.

  I will always find you.

  Sarina swam into the cave first, her tail flitting against its narrow opening before disappearing altogether. Cora followed after her, tracing the cave wall with her fingers as she entered its depths.

  Thick, unmoving water filled her sealungs. She exhaled, trying to relax, and to her surprise, succeeded. This cavern was strange, but the walls felt sturdy.

  Sarina swam deeper, leading them down a tunnel that connected to an enormous chamber. It must have been some sort of barracks, for off the large cavern were dozens of smaller chambers, like rooms. The doorways between the rooms and the greater cave where thin, small openings. This felt very secure.

  They selected a chamber near the bottom, one that was large enough for both of them to stretch out. Sarina settled against the rocky floor, lying on her side so that she faced away from Cora. She pulled her fin to her chest.

  Cold, perhaps. Cora was cold too.

  Cora opened the pack Sarina had been carrying, the one Maestro had given her. It didn’t contain much, but there were a few more jewels—worthless in their current situation—and some rations. Cora bit into a hard biscuit, recalling the days from her migration when fresh fish hadn’t been readily available. Like then, the biscuit wasn’t tasty.

  Cora tried to lie down and settle, but found she couldn’t hold still. She shifted from one side to the other, uncomfortable.

  But Sarina seemed to have no problems. Wasn’t she afraid, like Cora? Maybe she had reason to be confident because this was another elaborate ruse. Cora was trying to be cautious but knew enough to understand she was a novice in this undersea world.

  “Sarina,” Cora began. “Can I ask a question?”

  The mermaid grunted. Maybe she’d answer.

  “Why did you trust Triton?”

  Sarina rolled to her back with a huff. “That’s why I like you, little fry.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Trust? You’re cute. I never trusted Triton. I was prepared for him to use me as I wanted to use him. When I swam away with Isain, I expected to be double-crossed, but I was ready to play that game or, at least, die trying.”

  Cora shivered under Sarina’s intensity. Sarina really would have sent Cora to her death if it had helped her to survive. It made the distance between them feel vaster than the hand widths between their bodies. Cora missed having Maestro. He’d been kind and always had the best stories… He’d provided a link between herself and Sarina.

  But he was gone.

  Cora wanted to cry. About Maestro, the physic, the guard, Kyla. Sarina would just call her a baby if she cried.

  “I’m sorry we lost Maestro,” Cora said eventually.

  Sarina sighed. “I know, little fry.” She turned away from Cora. “Now get some sleep.”

  Cora lay on her back, her head spinning with thoughts as Sarina’s breathing slowed. And it wasn’t just that she couldn’t relax, she was nervous to dream again.

  Would Kyla be there? Or worse: what if Kyla was there but she kept Cora away?

  Her gaze followed the scuttle of a strange, spiny starfish. It appeared colorless, as though it had been bleached. She reached out to touch it, and it didn’t shy away. It was as rough as it appeared, transformed by the nature of living in such a place. She pulled back her hand, and slowly, the critter continued its journey across the cave.

  Inside the ominous cavern, everything seemed much less magical than anything in Queen Mari’s halls. Atlantis was a fantastical place, but it was still a city built for gods on the backs of mortals.

  A fish darted into the cave and flashed with a glow of light. Playful maybe? Cora sat up.

  It swam toward her, and she brushed its scales with her fingertips. It retreated into the main cavern, and Cora followed after it.

  She hesitated at the mouth of their small chamber and turned to look back at Sarina. Maybe she should stay—

  The fish flashed with light again, catching Cora’s attention. She followed.

  She swam into the larger cavern, and her uncertainty only deepened. Something was shifting in the darkness cast by the glowing fish. Something big.

  “Hello?” Cora asked.

  An eye peeked open. It was as large as Cora’s hand. She readied herself to sprint back to Sarina—

  The glow-fish went dark.

  Cora’s vision adjusted, discerning the shape of the massive underwater beast. And as details became visible, she realized she not only knew what he was… She had already given him a name.

  “Meryn?” Cora asked the gigantic squid that had been her companion during the migration. She knew that their farewell had been barely a week before… But her recollections of him were dreamy, memories so deep in her past that she struggled to believe they had really happened to her.

  She studied him, watching as his many long arms swayed idly for balance, as his two tentacles probed at the cavern’s walls. She studied his mantel, it was as tall as her, and checked the patterning of white on his red flesh.

  It really was Meryn.

  The name made her smile. After everything that had happened, there was something hopeful in that coincidence. A fortunate accident.

  She reached a hand toward the tentacle closest to her, but Meryn shied away. Cora rubbed her palm against her scales. Okay, he was being cautious. That wasn’t a surprise, befriending him the first time had been an act of patience.

  “It’s good to see you again.” She looked to the one bulbous eye she could see. She stilled her motion, reminding him she meant him no harm.

  One of his tentacles neared her, and she raised her hand to greet it. They touched, fingertip to sucker, and the tentacle gently wrapped itself around her palm. She knew how to handle such the creature and took his tentacle club into her hand, careful to avoid his teeth-like hooks.

  “Glad you’re happy to see me too,” she said, speaking for the animal, guessing at his disposition. “I’ve changed a lot since I last saw you. I’m glad you can recognize me.”

  Meryn didn’t really respond, but the fact that he stayed said something.

  “I guess I look the same, but my mind is different—I’ve changed. Apparently, I was always changed to begin with…but now I know that, and understanding makes everything different.” She laughed and shook her head. What was she doing? He couldn’t understand her.

  But it had felt right to speak. She’d always liked talking to him. He squeezed her palm, asking her for something. Maybe he wanted her to continue.

  So she did.

  Cora told him of everything that had happened. She tried to keep the story linear but found it impossible. She mangled the details and lost context. Yet, it helped.

  Kyla was the hardest to explain. “I think Kyla blames herself for what’s happening to me. I wish she wouldn’t. I need her help,” she confessed.

  Meryn listened, she thought, or maybe he was just resting. Regardless, she still held his tentacle club in her hand, and it felt good to continue.

  “I don’t know what we’ll do without the physic.” Losing it was the mistake that would haunt her. “Without it I… I don’t know what’s going to happen. How long do I have before I lose all my memories and become the mermaid I was before? I’ll blissfully forget everything and swim back to…him.” She didn’t want to say Triton’s name, couldn’t afford to give him any more power over her.

  Cora told him
of Maestro, not just that he’d been Meryn’s namesake, but what he’d been to Cora. The safety he provided her, the explanations. It was still difficult for her to fit all of Maestro’s identities together in her mind. She needed time to understand but doubted she had the opportunity.

  “I’m running and hiding. Again and again. I don’t know how to get away.” Her words were wandering now.

  Meryn reached for her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. the suckers on his arm pricking at her flesh with a quick kiss-and-release.

  Even as she found comfort in his contact, her chest clenched with the innate fear of being prey. Meryn was not a pet but she chose to trust.

  “I killed a guard.” The confession had choked out of her. She didn’t regret what she’d done, but she struggled to accept it. Maybe she never would. Maybe she’d forget.

  That was when the first tear finally fell.

  “What if killing him makes me a monster?”

  Several more tears left her eyes.

  “What if Sarina tries to leave me behind?” The words were difficult to get out now, but she continued, “Where is Kyla?” and finally, “I don’t see any hope.”

  With a hiccup, Cora began to sob the tears that she’d hidden, fought against for fear of seeming immature. But right now—damn it—she wanted to cry and cry she would, the water joining with the ocean.

  And Meryn wrapped another of his arms around her, soothing her with his kissing caress. In time, Cora heaved a final sigh to discover her tears were spent; she was sated.

  She rubbed her hands against her face. “Thank you,” she told Meryn.

  He squeezed her body a final time, giving what physical comfort he could. Then, slowly he withdrew his arms from around her.

  “You can stay!” Cora cried after him.

  But with a forceful kick, he pushed himself higher into the cavern and away from her.

  Cora considered chasing him, but he moved so fast and had already reached the cavern’s ceiling. She could chase him and play as they used to but—

  She stayed behind. If he wanted to come back to her, he would. There was no point in chasing him.