Female Fantasy
After our first full month of training, Ryke informs me that we are going to embark on an adventure. I scoff—simply being in this underwater world that I never knew existed is adventure enough to last lifetimes. But he just smirks and tells me to be ready by moonrise.
I stagger over to the stone dresser in the cavern, barely able to remain upright.
Every muscle in my body aches from holding planks and balancing on one foot.
My legs shake. My core has turned to jelly.
Even my brain hurts, my temples throbbing from solving logic problems, riddles, and puzzles of the heart and mind.
I am exhausted, shredded and stuck back together again.
And yet, I feel myself growing stronger.
More sure of myself. And my ability to help the mer.
From the closet, I select a wet suit made of a reflective turquoise fabric that stretches to fit my form.
As the garment contorts to cover my curves, a gasp catches in my throat.
The sight is practically obscene. Every part of me is hidden yet exposed, and the blue-green nylon shines like the scales of the fish.
With my hair loosened from its braid and cascading down my back, I do not look like a mere woman.
I look like the mer.
My breath quickens.
There is only one reason Ryke would have instructed me to dress in a suit this tight and elastic.
He appears at the archway, ridding my head of all thoughts. He is wearing a vest of a similar material, the same obsidian color as his tail. His dark hair is slicked back out of his golden eyes, which twinkle in the moonlight.
“Ready?” he asks.
I start. “You mean…”
He nods once. “Yes. We shall swim to our next location.”
“But I am not—”
“You are ready, little minnow.”
For weeks on end, Ryke has been following through on his promise to teach me to swim.
At first, I was terrified that I would panic outside of my air bubble and sink to my death.
But Ryke’s hands gripped my waist, and he vowed not to let go until I felt ready.
His confidence in me allowed me to start kicking my legs and moving my arms.
And then I was swimming.
Like a babe, a guppy.
But still.
He hands me some sort of contraption, which he then helps me place over my head.
“Whenever you need to breathe, do so through this tube,” he instructs me. “This device operates like a miniature air bubble. It will allow you to draw breath from the water as you swim like the mer do.”
I follow his instructions, inhaling through the tube. Clean oxygen floods my lungs, sending a wave of shock through my body.
“It is miraculous,” I declare.
He grins at me. “Follow my lead. It is a short swim, but do your best to stay close to the surface. Remember, it is imperative that we stay hidden.”
I do as he asks, flexing my tender core and flipping my feet as if they were fins.
We swim silently, side by side, passing over a reef of pink speckled coral.
I let out a squeal of delight around the tube between my lips.
Ryke surprises me by reaching out and taking my hand. And I surprise myself by accepting it.
Together, we swim the rest of the way in each other’s grasp.
Finally, we come upon a grand castle of sand, complete with a moat guarded by two great horses of the sea, their manes as golden as Ryke’s eyes.
“Welcome to Fort Caspian,” Ryke says. “One of my family’s ancestral homes, long abandoned by my kin and forgotten by the sirens. We shall be safe here.”
My eyes widen, though I’m unable to speak around the contraption.
Instead, I follow him down a narrow path of crystal-covered sand, past the grand sand columns and double cork doors.
Once we enter the magnificent hall, complete with stained-glass windows and fresco-covered ceilings, I feel Ryke’s hands at the back of my head.
He removes the breathing device, and my heart starts to hammer, my hands immediately flying to my mouth.
“It is all right, my minnow,” he says softly. “The entire castle was built in an air pocket, intended to allow the mer shifters in my family to take their human and maecenean forms as well. You can breathe here.”
I let out a literal breath of relief.
“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show his face,” a mer calls down from the spiral staircase, his voice rolling like thunder.
His eyes are a pale gray and his skin dark as smoky quartz. But it is his dragon-red tail, long and thick behind him, that causes my heart to skip a beat.
Put plainly, the mer is beautiful.
He looks at me and winks. “Before you ask, yes,” he says with a smirk. “It really is that big.”
I feel my neck start to heat.
“Play nice, Kai,” Ryke grunts. “It is not like I was in hiding. Or exile.”
Kai rolls his eyes. “Prince Ryke, ever the martyr.”
The two grin at each other for a beat before embracing.
“Good to see you, old friend,” Kai says.
“You too, brother,” Ryke says, his voice choked. “Where are the others?”
“Whoever could you possibly mean?” A high-pitched voice rings out from the other direction.
A pale-skinned mer with short blond hair emerges from the left wing.
She wears a bustier of rose-colored pearls, which matches her narrow tail.
When she spots me, her eyes twinkle. “Ryke, you disappear on us for years, then emerge with…a date? And here I thought you were saving yourself for me.”
Ryke laughs heartily. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mira. This is Merriah.”
I offer up a meek smile, but I am distracted by the pretty mer’s words.
Decades.
She said Ryke had been gone for centuries.
But these mer look no older than thirty and two years.
Just how old is Ryke?
“Merriah! What a lovely name. Welcome, welcome to Caspian. My name is Mira, and this scoundrel here is Kai. Do not sit by him at supper unless you wish to have your appetite disturbed.”
I stifle a giggle.
“Might I suggest he dine in the kitchen?”
Another male appears behind Kai, his skin pale like Mira’s but his locks a fiery orange color, the same as his tail. With an earnest grin and shaggy brows, he appears friendlier than the others. Approachable, even.
But I know all too well that looks can be deceiving.
“Oh, shut it, Dylan,” Kai growls. “You shall scare off poor Merriah before she has her dorsal fin soup.”
The female mer claps. “My favorite!”
Dylan saunters over to Ryke and pulls him into a hug. Ryke practically collapses into his arms, I note. The two must be close.
“Good to have you home,” he says. “Where you belong. Come, there is much to discuss. I need to hear about your travels into the human world. And you owe us an explanation. We all heard the conch, Ryke. Was it you?”
Ryke winces. “That story requires many glasses of ale indeed.”
Kai lets out a chuckle. “Then follow us outside. We thought we’d dine on the balcony this fine evening.
The water is just the perfect temperature.
Not too hot, not too cold.” The mer then turns his head, gesturing to me.
“Why don’t you shift and join us, little one?
I cannot wait to hear the tale of how you melted our ice prince’s heart. ”
I freeze when I realize that they know not what I am. Ryke’s friends believe me to be a mer shifter in my human form.
“I—” I stumble over my words. “I cannot.”
Dylan raises a brow. “And why is that?”
“Because she is not mer.”
The voice sounds from the entryway behind us.
I turn around to find a petite mer with hair as black as night sliced in a sharp line above her shoulders, the sandy skin of both of her forearms and her torso covered in dark inked designs.
She wears what resembles a cowhide vest. And her tail, her tiny but magnificent tail, is the hue of a deep green jewel, matching the color of her eyes.
She squints at me, her stance mildly threatening.
“Guinn,” Ryke says, his tone a warning.
“She is not mer,” Guinn continues. “No, not at all. Can you not smell it on her?”
Her nose scrunches as she sniffs the water around me.
“Tell me, human. How did you come to be below the ocean floor?”