Authors: Missy Fleming
Chapter Eleven
I blink rapidly, struggling to quiet the pounding of my heart. This must be a dream. But I manage a better view as she swims closer. Eyes flash, so eerily familiar to mine, and my voice comes out stronger.
“My mother told me about you. How did you know I was here?”
“News travels fast in the ocean.” She tilts her head regally. “And a dolphin sent word that you were in danger.”
I lean closer to the edge, careful not to let her see that I’m marred. For some reason, I’m not ready for her to know, afraid she’ll gaze at me with pity or tell my father I’m not perfect. “You got here fast.”
“I was on my way, considering your sixteenth birthday had arrived. I hoped to be here earlier, but we had to be extra cautious.” She pauses to purse her lips. “Why are you up there and not in the water?”
A nervous laugh bubbles up. “Where do you want me to start? Last time I turned into a mermaid I was attacked by an angry horde of eels. Up until that point it was amazing, but then I was told a merwitch might have sent the eels to hurt me.”
Her expression is full of patience and understanding, which melts the tension sitting across my shoulders. She brushes a strand of hair out of her face as she speaks.
“There are many dangers in the oceans these days. I won’t lie and say you’re not smart for being apprehensive. But I’m here and so are two guards from the palace.” I jerk at the word “palace.” That’s an interesting piece of news. “You’re safe with us if you want to try again.”
Hesitation seizes me in its grip. My body is straining to dip under the soothing waters. Galina swims close and lays her hand on my leg. I hold very still so she can’t notice that it isn’t real.
“What else is holding you back?” she whispers.
“I’m afraid if I turn into a mermaid, even with the dangers, I’ll never want to be human again.” There, I stated my biggest fear.
She cups my cheek and it pulls a few tears from me. “You will always have your human nature inside you. Mer are half-human after all. You grew up in a world so different from ours, but it will be with you forever and allow you to observe things in a new light.”
I nod, soothed by her words. She confirmed what I held as my deepest hope—that I could remain part of two worlds. Gathering my courage, I say, “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Joy softens her features. “I’m so happy to hear that. We have a lot to talk about. I’ll feel better if you’re out of the rain and not shivering.”
She sinks as I stand to strip off my clothes and remove my leg. Unlike before, when I inched down as slowly as possible, I leap in an effortless dive. It’s full of a grace I never knew I possessed.
The instant I’m completely underwater, I’ve already changed. I’m practically overwhelmed by the force of contentment and relief. God, I missed this. I execute a few twists and flips, then swim over to where Galina watches me with delight.
“I guess I don’t have to worry about you taking too long to master your new form. You are a quick learner, like your father.” Her brows knit together. “But why did you hide the fact you’re missing a leg?”
This sobers me, throwing a damper on my joy. I should have guessed she’d notice and am honest with her. “Look at you. You’re perfect. I felt embarrassed to be meeting you for the first time as myself, as scarred.”
“Oh, my sweet child, you’ll always be lovely to me. Are you curious to know what I see? I see a brave girl who must have dealt with terrible adversity. How did it happen?”
I consider my answer for a moment, suddenly very protective of my mom. I can’t admit to my grandmother that she was out searching for Stavros when I was hurt. It feels like a breach of trust. No matter what I long for, Galina is a stranger. So, I simply say, “A shark attack. I was six.”
Horror skitters across her expression and she reaches out to touch my arm. “I can imagine how scary that was. Are you positive you’re ready for this? You’ve witnessed more than most how unforgiving the sea can be.”
I nod stiffly. What I’m not ready for is talking about it. “Please, don’t tell him.” My plea comes out in a strangled whisper.
“But why?”
“If I ever have the chance to meet my father, I want him to see me like this and not with pity. Besides, I’d rather be the one who explains it to him.”
“He’d never look at you with pity, but I understand. I promise. This is your tale to recount, so I will leave it to you.”
Movement catches my attention, distracting me. Near the mouth of the small bay we’re in are two mermen—I guess that’s what they’re called. One thing is for certain. They are hot.
The older merman is big and muscular. His arms and chest are hard, flat, with a scattering of scales across his wide shoulders. The younger guard, who’s lean with curling dark hair and skin, reminds me of a Hawaiian or Samoan. I can’t tear my gaze from him. Then, an embarrassing thought occurs. Did they hear our conversation? How mortifying.
Swallowing the hot lump in my throat, I manage to return my attention to my grandmother, who grins knowingly. “Don’t worry, they didn’t hear. We’re too far away. Now, you probably have many questions.”
That’s a heck of an understatement. I don’t have a clue where to begin.
“How can we talk?” It isn’t the most pressing inquiry, but it’s what my brain chooses to spit out.
“Water is actually a great conductor of sound. Our gills help. The vocal chords still vocalize, just in a different way. It’s more complicated than that, but the technicalities are a mystery to me. It’s one of those things that have always been.”
“I didn’t expect it.”
She moves a piece of algae from my hair that has drifted over. “I hope the familiarity eases your transition.”
“Is this permanent?”
“To be honest, it hasn’t happened too often, a half-mer, half-human child. There’s a kind of magic involved in the change, old magic, but it’s too complex to explain without more time.” She bushes the notion aside with a flick of her wrist. “In your situation, the ability to transform starts on your sixteenth birthday. You will then have a full year where you can change at will. Before you turn seventeen, you must choose one world or the other. You cannot choose after the day passes, but you can anytime prior. To put it simply, you cannot live in two worlds, even though you have two inside you.”
I incline my head, not entirely confident I understand, but suddenly I know, without a doubt, I can’t decide on either until I experience them both, including my father.
“And Stavros has no idea?” I ask, changing the subject to what will ultimately decide for me. “How could you do that?”
“No, he doesn’t know about you,” Galina says, taking my hand in hers. “Although by now, he’s certainly heard rumors of a strange royal girl in his waters. I can promise you that he loved your mother and continued to pine for her. But the kingdom needed a strong king. I was afraid that if he knew about you, he’d give up his birthright. I don’t seek forgiveness for my decision. I did what I believe was justified in the moment and I had every faith in your mother to raise you.”
“He’s married, right?” I inquire cautiously. While I’m not ready to let them both off the hook yet, I can’t imagine what played into their decisions.
“Yes. It was a marriage of political means. I am certain I can trust you, so I will say that my son is not happy. The queen is cold and their daughter isn’t any better. It’s one of the drawbacks to being a ruler. Our hearts are often unwilling casualties. I was lucky with my marriage.”
“I have a sister?”
“You do, although you are nothing alike.”
I’m not really reassured. It only increases the butterflies swarming in my stomach.
“So, what if I want to meet him? Or at least visit parts of the kingdom? I have to understand this part of me, Galina.” My plea warbles with emotion. The urge to experience this strange world is so immense it smothers me.
She beams at me, full of pride. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve to become familiar with this part of yourself and I’ve wondered about you every day. Always hold onto that.” She pauses a moment. “I must prepare Stavros first. We have a great deal going on at the moment.”
“Okay,” I reply meekly. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.” The possibility of having this dangled in front of me only to be snatched away clenches my heart in a vise.
“Of course you won’t be trouble.” She locks me with an intense gaze. “You must do one thing for me, though. Think long and hard about this. It’ll be a difficult journey and you’ll be gone for weeks, possibly months. That’s a significant amount of time to be in an unfamiliar location. No matter what you decide, you will never be the same. There are risks, too. The ocean is dangerous to someone new, as you’ve already found out.”
“I promise.” Her reference to the eel attack ignites my curiosity. “Is it true the attack on me might have been ordered by a merwitch? Is she causing the oceans to rise and the storms?”
Her shoulders slump. “We’re aware of the situation and doing everything in our power to stop it. Calandra continues to be a mystery to us. If she knows you exist, we must be very careful. I can’t share more, not until you choose to come with me. I also wish I can give you longer to consider this, but there are reasons it has to be now.” She pauses. “If Calandra has heard of you, you won’t be safe. Personally, I’d feel better if you leave with us tonight.”
Even though her answer is cryptic, I respect her reasoning, but my heart is breaking. I hadn’t realized she meant leaving now. I should have an opportunity to mull, to explain it to Mom without vanishing, but here is this magnificent creature offering me my heart’s desire.
“If I leave with you, my mom will freak. I have to at least leave her a note.” I can’t deny that I won’t go with Galina. It’s too special to turn down. This is my chance.
“I’ll leave Nerio here,” she indicates the younger merman. “I will depart in haste, get a head start, and return to the palace to speak with your father, to inform him of your existence. You mustn’t tell anyone who you are. You are a princess and our enemies would use that against us.”
I swallow thickly. “A-am I in danger?”
“No,” she rubs my arm in comfort. “You’ll be safe with Nerio and in the palace. Return once it’s dark and he’ll escort you. If you don’t show by dawn, we’ll assume you have changed your mind. Say your goodbyes and I hope to see you soon.” She leans in and hugs me close. I’m startled, but quickly recover and mimic the gesture.
“You too,” I answer.
She ends the hug and leaves. I watch until she vanishes with the older merman and, when she’s gone, my gaze lands on Nerio. He nods once and I quickly turn my back on him to swim for shore. Once again, my life is about to be altered drastically.
Chapter Twelve
At home I’m a nervous wreck.
The decision I have to make is daunting, and while I know in my heart what it will be, it’s not easy to let go. I want to meet my dad. That’s what it boils down to. If I can’t find a place to fit into his world, at least I can say I tried. God, it feels as if I’m choosing between my parents. If I pick one, I lose the other.
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.