Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
“Here you are.” Malachi placed the mayaweed in a sack and tied it closed. He placed it beside a jar of fresh carrageen moss on the counter. “Will there be anything else, Ms Aiida?”
“Dried dulse, please.” The selkie pushed her luscious locks behind her ear.
“Of course.” Malachi went to the large wooden cabinet where he kept most of the dried plants. His hand slid along the dark oak before he found the drawer with “Dulse” engraved on the front.
Whilst the Aquatic Horticultural Emporium specialised in living plants, Malachi tried to keep popular dried aquatic plants in stock too.
Customers bought his plants for a variety of reasons.
Some bought them for healing or restorative purposes.
Others, like the selkie, bought the plants for food.
Some used the plants as ingredients for magic potions or spells.
Then there were those who bought the plants in tanks to be used as decorations.
Malachi brought the drawer containing the dulse to the counter. “How much would you like?”
“About a handful should be more than enough, Mr Marin,” the selkie said.
Malachi measured it out and put it into a cloth bag. “Will there be anything else today?”
Ms Aiida shook her head. “That will be all. Thanks.”
Malachi wrapped up the order as the customer paid. Then, with the packages under her arms, she left.
Malachi would need to order more dulse soon. It grew along the coast in the ocean to the north. Malachi had eaten it when he lived there. It had been one of Forathia’s favourites.
Over the years, the intensity of his grief had numbed from a sharp, biting pain to a softer, duller ache. That ache had settled inside him, becoming a part of him.
Today the ache had intensified. Which it did sometimes. Probably because he’d seen the mated sirens that morning.
On days like today, Malachi longed to switch the sign to closed and go upstairs. He’d not light the fire or lantern. He’d just sit in the cold, dark gloom, letting the misery flow over him like waves. But he’d learnt not to give in to that feeling. It did him no good.
Better to keep moving. Keep going. One foot after the other. He could tend to the plants. Even if it didn’t help with how he felt, at least he’d know his plants would be well cared for. That was something.
He took out his tools and began to go through the emporium, focusing on their needs and pushing away his own. “How are you, my dears? Is everyone well and healthy? You are all looking well.”
He removed dead leaves. He pruned and trimmed. He checked water levels, salinity, and temperatures. One of the main reasons his plants thrived was because he was a siren. They grew stronger hearing him talk and feeling his touch. A siren’s special skill.
His throat tightened. But of course he did not do the one thing that would truly make them flourish. He would not sing for them. Aquatic plants flourished hearing a siren’s song. But he could not sing. Even for them.
The store door creaked open. Malachi turned.
Mr Berry entered, his cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold. He tugged off his gloves and shoved them into a pocket as he looked around the emporium. He spotted Malachi. A smile blossomed across his lips.
Despite the ache in Malachi’s chest, Malachi returned the smile. How could anyone not smile at the young man?
“Mr Marin,” Mr Berry said, somewhat breathlessly. “Good evening.”
“Good evening, Mr Berry.” Malachi walked behind the counter. “You are here for the elothea seeds for your brother, correct?”
Mr Berry’s smile stretched wider. “I am.”
Malachi reached beneath the counter and picked up the elothea grass. He placed the tank on the counter and reached into the water. The slippery grass slid along his fingers as he plucked the seeds.
Mr Berry stared at Malachi, appearing to study his face, his body, before finally fixing on his tentacles, which still held the tank. Mr Berry’s breath stuttered.
Malachi tried not to frown. Mr Berry should be used to his appearance by now.
Furthermore, although sirens in Anorra were rare, there were many non-humans. Malachi might have tentacles, blue skin, and sharp teeth, but surely Malachi was no more unusual than many others who wandered the streets.
Malachi placed the seeds on a glass plate. He leaned forward and examined them, rolling them with his webbed fingers, ensuring the seeds were whole and healthy.
He could feel Mr Berry’s gaze on him. No one else stared at Malachi with such intensity.
Malachi had been considered handsome by siren standards. But he had no idea what humans thought of him. He’d never asked. Why would he?
Obviously, he did not look anything like them. What did Mr Berry think of Malachi’s appearance?
He was aware that some humans, and in fact some non-humans, could be very judgemental to individuals not of their own kind. His instinct told him Mr Berry was not like that. But one could never be certain.
It seemed ridiculous to Malachi that some could be so prejudiced. But he was a siren. And since sirens often had mates who were non-sirens, they tended to be very accepting to all. Malachi didn’t know enough about Mr Berry to know how he perceived non-humans.
With a tweezer, Malachi placed the seeds onto a small white cloth, folded the seeds inside, slid them into an envelope, and placed it on the counter before him. “That will be 110 bells.”
“Oh.” Mr Berry’s eyes widened as if he was surprised. “Right.” He let out a half-laugh. He began to search his pockets. “Of course!”
Malachi fought the urge to frown. They had gone through this exact interaction every day for a long time now. Malachi provided the seeds. Mr Berry paid. It perplexed Malachi that Mr Berry seemed so flummoxed.
Was something bothering the young man?
Malachi kept a polite smile on his face as Mr Berry frantically searched his pockets. “Found it!” He held up the pouch. Then he counted out the coins and placed them on the counter. “One hundred and ten bells. Thank you.”
Then he turned and walked towards the door.
“Mr Berry,” Malachi said.
The young man stopped and turned back. He stared at Malachi with wide eyes. “Yes?”
Malachi lifted the envelope. “You forgot the seeds.”
“Oh!” Mr Berry laughed. He shook his head and shoved his fingers through his hair. Or he would have. Except Mr Berry seemed to have forgotten that he was wearing a hat today. He knocked it off.
A startled noise escaped Mr Berry as he glanced at the hat on the floor. He scooped it up, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Malachi wasn’t sure who Mr Berry was apologising to. Was he apologising to Malachi for dropping his hat on his floor? Or to the hat for dropping it? Both seemed odd.
He felt a pang of sympathy for the overwrought human. Because whilst he was often nervous and overly exuberant, he seemed more so today. Perhaps his brother was doing worse.
“Think nothing of it at all.” Malachi came around the counter and stood in front of Mr Berry. He placed a hand on the young man’s elbow and handed him the envelope of seeds.
Mr Berry’s breath caught. He stared at Malachi’s hand on his elbow.
Was he startled by the touch of a webbed hand even through his coat? Malachi had never touched Mr Berry before. In fact this was the closest they’d ever been. Usually a counter stood between them.
Malachi removed his hand from Mr Berry’s elbow. He was about to step back when Mr Berry reached out, took the envelope, and pocketed it. Then he clasped Malachi’s hand with both his own.
Mr Berry smiled brightly. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”