Chapter Nine

Priddy

had fallen off a cliff once. He’d ridden the Death Drop roller

coaster at Newquay once, too, and been dragged to the bottom of

Rosewarne harbour when one of Vigo’s stolen boats had

capsized.

This was

worse. This was impossible: he would die. Merou had bound their

hands with the weird blue-green filament—delicate as seaweed, tough

as steel—that grew from his wrists. His arm around Priddy’s waist

was a cable. They were going down.

So fast,

so hard. The great tail propelled them, surge after surge from the

fluke. Darkness extinguished the starlight. Priddy’s last vision

before absolute green-black night was the whip of bubbles back

towards the surface—his last breath, the one he’d instinctively

snatched as Merou dived. Blind panic ate him whole. His lungs would

burst. His skull must surely already have exploded, but for the

hole in his neck, somehow allowing passage of pressure from his

pounding brain to the water. He struggled in Merou’s grip, a final

fight-or-flight seizure even though without him he’d be lost,

tumbling forever in the lightless abyss. A howl built up in him,

the scream in whose aftermath he’d be forced to suck in water. Down

again, so fast, so hard...

Merou

spun him round. The tail ceased its propulsion and coiled around

him, holding him still. They helixed downward together on momentum

for five heartbeats more, and then they stopped—Merou stopped them,

gently, absolutely, and Priddy must have been already dead because

the water was full of lights, blue-gold orbs like a hundred aquatic

suns. They hung in the dazzling drift of them, suspended, and Merou

drew Priddy’s fringe out of his eyes, cupped his face firmly

between his hands and kissed him.

Breathed into him. Priddy took the sweet, clean inrush like

parched ground soaking up rain. He stiffened with the joy and

relief of it, clutching Merou’s shoulders, arching his spine. Merou

drew back. His eyes were wide, clear of their protective membrane

and full of the reflected suns—questioning, bright with amusement

and hope. Yes? Yes?

Priddy nodded. Oh, God, yes.

Tentatively he reached for Merou again, and this

time the kiss was different, raw need rising from the near-death

fear. Priddy could give something back.

Merou

shivered in astonishment. Sound couldn’t carry this deep but Priddy

heard his laughter anyway, felt it in the back of his throat. They

drew apart lingeringly, Priddy still clinging to his

hand.

He didn’t need to breathe. The one compulsion that had shaped

his existence from the moment of his birth was gone, switched off,

erased. His heart had slowed from its syncopating gallop and was

beating easily, his limbs warm and loose in the water, as if every

tissue in his body had been flooded with oxygen, enough to hold him

forever. Merou surveyed him in wonder, dark hair floating in a

corona against the lights. He stretched out the hand Priddy wasn’t

holding and gestured down again. Come with

me?

Oh yes. Yes.

There

was a city down here. That was what Priddy’s eyes tried to convey

to him, in the glimmer of a thousand drifting stars. He was

drifting himself, flying, lightly tethered to Merou’s hand. Elation

was blazing through him still. Released from gravity and the

demands of his lungs, the unceasing in-out that brought humans down

here with a tank on their back and a wedge of rubber thrust into

their mouths, he was insanely, dizzyingly free. Hallucinating too,

no doubt of it, but that was all part of the matrix, and he let the

barriers fall. That rock was a gold-plated dome. Beneath it dropped

a sheer cliff of basalt, too polished and perfect to be real, so he

allowed the dome to be part of a cathedral, perched on its

black-mirror cliff above other rocks that morphed as he looked at

them into towers, spires, a vast branching fractal of opalescent

roads. Beautiful archways sprang out of nowhere, bridges that

connected nothing to nowhere and served no purpose except the grace

of their architecture. Kelp groves became forests, dancing in the

current, the floating suns catching in their branches...

Too

much. He turned to grin at Merou, who smiled back at him and

released his hand. He turned a somersault in the water and took a

first strong swimming stroke of his own. The power of his own kick

astonished him. Tail or no tail, he could keep up with Merou here.

To prove it he thrust ahead, then whipped round in fright at the

thought of losing him. Oh, and he hadn’t seen him yet, not properly

in his merman form, not as he was seeing now! He was beautiful,

tapered from the waist into that majestic sheath of muscle and fin,

the scales—like scallops or shingling, seal-blue and bright copper

green—overlapping and shifting as he moved. Priddy swam back to

him, arms outstretched. Together they tumbled off the edge of the

basalt cliff, spiralling down towards the swaying seaweed

groves.

A palace

soared from the midst of them, or a sea-sculpted formation of

serpentine rocks. It didn’t matter which. Merou let Priddy choose

the way, between spires and outcrops and through the arch of a

window into a prince’s chamber. Ancient tapestries on the walls, or

just shifting colours of rock? Priddy could see both, then neither,

as he closed his eyes and drew Merou after him onto a great tilted

monolith, a fallen pillar covered with rich blankets or sea

moss.

What is this place?

Nowhere. Just the sea floor.

Priddy’s eyes flew open. He’d heard Merou speak inside his

head before, but this was different, not to be lain at the door of

imagination. Direct answer to a question, so Priddy was speaking

inside Merou’s head as well. You can hear

me?

Yes. It isn’t usually the way. They can hear me,

but...

They can’t answer back? Must be handy for you.

Priddy grinned. He should have wondered who

they were, how many

landlings Merou had borne off to his undersea lair. All he cared

about was the lithe strength enfolding him as he lay back against

the pillar, the arm behind his head, the immobilising sweep of the

tail. I see more than sea

floor.

What... What do you see?

It mattered. Merou was watching him intently.

Buildings. Bridges and towers—a whole city. Then

when I look again, there’s just stone.

It’s called Lyonesse. And none of your kind has ever seen it

before, unless... The strange dark gaze

opened hungrily. Oh, Priddy, stay here

with me.

He wanted to. He wanted to shed all the trappings of the upper

world. Suddenly it seemed impossible that he was still dressed in

his T-shirt and jeans. The storm of their arrival here should have

stripped his clothes off him and taken a layer of his landling skin

with them too. He could barely send words to Merou anymore—only

images, desires. Naked. Held fast in the

coils of your tail. Opened like an oyster shell and fucked, only

how...

Merou burst into laughter. He twisted: moved fast as a minnow

and peeled Priddy’s jeans off him, webbed hands supernaturally

deft. The T-shirt next, shucking him out of it like a bean from a

pod, and then, with a gesture so domestic that Priddy began to

laugh too, folding the garments and weighing them down with a

stone. Don’t want them to float

off.

Will I need them again?

Oh, fine man, don’t tempt me. Don’t...

He pushed Priddy back against the rock, encouraging the

instinctive lift of his thighs to clasp round his waist. Drew back

a little, caressing him: Look. See how I’m

different to you, and see how I’m the same. Don’t be

scared.

I’m not.

Well, you ought to be. You oughtn’t to believe me when I say

that our blood—the blood of the Mer—isn’t capable of bearing

disease. That you’re safe with me.

But I do believe you. Priddy rubbed

his face against Merou’s neck, fearlessly kissing the place where

the skin parted in a fronded slit. He chuckled, making Merou

jump. It’s not like you’re spinning me

some pickup line in a bar. Show me how you’re the same as me. Show

me how you’re different.

Differences first. Merou edged back far enough for Priddy to

see. The pattern of the scales across his belly wasn’t uniform. At

the pit of his abdomen, the place where his upperworld legs had

once begun, the mesh became intricate, like interlaced fingers or

feathers. He took hold of Priddy’s shoulders: arched his head back

in a spasm of pain, deep-laid joy and release. The mesh blossomed

open, a sea-anemone burst, and there he was: human, the same, long

thick cock fully erect and ready. Priddy reached down in

welcome. Look at you!

Strong lads have been known to faint at the sight of

that.

Oh, you’re a handful. Not a record-breaker,

though.

Not the size of it, you idiot! The arrangement.

Seems perfectly sensible to me. And

yet when Priddy took hold, he too had to fight a wash of vertigo:

Merou was warm and shapely down there, but slick with some kind of

oil. You’re... slippery.

Well, what do you expect? I’m excited. We don’t leave all the

work of lubing up to our women, you know—not like you

lot.

Your women... Merou, am I gonna meet your enraged missus on

the harbourside some day? Or a crowd of them?

Listen to me. Merou cupped his face

once more, offered him another of the life-rich kisses that sent

sparks flying to the tips of his fingers and toes.

I’ve taken you under the sea with me and breathed

for you. I can change from a fish into a man. Why do you assume our

reproduction is anything like yours? My closest contact with a

female is a brief explosion of my sperm over the eggs she’s just

left behind.

Priddy tried to absorb this. Don’t

you...

Yes, all the time, but it’s not connected to the way we make

our children. We only fuck for love.

Priddy surrendered. His white flag went up at the same time as

his answering erection—a total capitulation to this fantasy, to

Merou in all his sweet strangeness. A merman’s tail was pushing

between his legs, the fluke playfully enclosing and caressing his

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