Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
K ent was counting the days—a week had already passed. A whole week stuck inside this room, having meals brought to him consisting of bread crusts and salted fish, sleeping on a thin blanket on the hardwood floor, and sharing a crude chamber pot between the three of them. It was rough living this way, and especially jarring coming from the comfort they had known on The Sterling Mer . But at least it was temporary, and once back in England, Kent would be free again. He didn’t wish to say goodbye to Allen, and he definitely was not looking forward to his father’s reaction to the situation, but he was playing with the cards he was dealt, using the best strategy he saw fit. His father would understand. Allen reassured him time and time again that he would be fine. And then, after that, he could be with Mo again.
Aside from Allen, the only other soul he spoke to was Seth. Occasionally, Seth went out onto the upper deck and Kent and Allen were left alone, but the door was always kept locked, keeping them in the musky room regardless. How he wished he had his books, but all of his possessions he’d brought were left on The Sterling Mer . At least they’d stay safe there, and hopefully could be returned to him once the ship docked in Portsmouth after her round trip.
How long until The Sterling Mer would reach her destination in New England? Last he heard when he was still on board, Captain Brooks had said they’d reach Fall River in a fortnight. If it had already been a week… hopefully only one more remained. Kent could only pray they stay safe without his or Allen’s presence, and will find people to fill their missing roles once on land.
Allen was recovering quite well. Kent had an exquisite talent with the needle, and had sewn him up precisely and carefully, holding his wound together and keeping it clean and monitored with fresh bandages. The redhead continually thanked Kent for his good work, showing his appreciation with assuring kind words and gentle smiles. Kent was pleasantly surprised no sort of infection took its course with how long the wound was exposed before treatment, but perhaps, Kent thought, the mer-blood in Allen’s body protected him against that.
And of course, Mo never left Kent’s mind. His beloved merman must’ve been terribly worried since they couldn’t see each other this entire time, and Seth had mentioned he’d seen Mo bobbing his head out of the water a few times when he had gone above deck himself. Though, by his captain’s orders, Seth wasn’t allowed to say anything to the merman other than that Kent was still alive and secure. Kent tried looking out the porthole window for any signs of him out on the water, but the glass was so clouded with green grime and grease, it was a miracle if he could see the sea at all. But despite not being able to meet each other, that pulsing in his chest continued to assure Kent that his merman truly was always nearby. He didn’t understand what the feeling even was, but he just knew. Mo was there, and he figured as much, Mo must’ve been feeling the same pulse as himself. Love connected them. It was the magic Mo’s whale friend Noon described, tying the merman to humanity and, eventually, would grant Mo legs when the time was right.
On the subject of merfolk in particular, Seth had a lot to say. Captain Young wasn’t lying when he also called Seth a ‘mer-fucker’, and Seth himself rambled and raved about his dearest mermaid friend?—
—without censoring anything.
If Kent thought their pirate companion was brash before, he had a whole new view of him from listening to his lewd monologues this past week. Yes, Seth never said anything lewd about Kent himself like he’d promised, but that didn’t stop him from spouting other nonsense. Allen tried calming Seth down occasionally, telling him he’d already said plenty, but Seth was quick to ignore any suggestions. He told tale after tale of himself and a mermaid named Wenta, how she had boarded the ship previously and, in great unnecessary detail, of their sexual escapades. It was like listening to someone read out loud to them an erotic novel.
At least it was more entertaining than if they were to sit in silence.
“When was the last time you’d seen your mermaid?” Kent asked Seth one day. The three of them were all sitting together on the wooden floor, arranged in somewhat of a circle.
“Hmm, perhaps a week or so before you came on board,” said Seth.
“So not even that long ago?” Such a notion excited him, making his heart leap. “Do you expect her to come again somewhen?”
“Most certainly, I’d hope so!” Seth laughed. “I figure she must’ve gotten lost with how we’d changed course. She should be back around, though. She wouldn’t abandon me; I am her dearest friend.”
That warmed Kent’s heart, but then—an idea popped in his head. If Wenta were to meet Seth again… “I wonder if she is somewhere nearby? And if my merman friend Mo has seen her?”
“Now there’s a thought! Perhaps he has, then?”
“Good thinking, Fareham,” said Allen, patting Kent on the shoulder.
“You’d mentioned you saw Mo in the water yesterday, I believe,” said Kent. “What if… what if you asked him about Wenta next time you go above deck?”
“I’m not supposed to say much to the merman, but…” Seth put a finger to his chin, “I suppose I could try to slip a word in. Those two must’ve crossed paths by now, right? Swimming around down there, they must’ve. Yes—yes! I’ll do it.”
Kent smiled. “Perhaps… if Wenta knows the crew already, perhaps she could help persuade Young to let me above deck? Just for a moment. All I wish is to see Mo’s face again.”
Seth’s lips puckered in a pout. “I don’t know about that. Young seems to be very strict about you, to ensure nothing goes wrong with this plan. But I suppose there’s no harm in asking.” He shrugged.
“I have a feeling you’ll see Mo again sooner than you’d expect,” said Allen, giving Kent’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He’s very protective of you, and I know he’ll take any opportunity he can get if there’s a chance to see you again, too.”
“It all depends on what Young agrees to, then.” Kent sighed. “Thank you, Allen. In truth, I do wish us all the best.”
“Of course, of course,” said Seth. “Next time I see your merman, whenever that may be, I assure you, I will ask.”
Mo slept on Noon’s back, taking a mid-morning nap since he felt like he had nothing better to do. Every time he went above the surface, scouting the pirate ship for even a glimpse of Kent’s face either above deck or through the windows, he was always met with disappointment. There was one pirate that spoke to him: a tall, thin young man with a sunny disposition and jet-black hair. But he didn’t tell him much other than reassuring him Kent was safe, before Captain Young shooed him away. It was something, at least. To hear anything about Kent that confirmed he was still prospering settled any nagging thoughts that relentlessly dug into his mind.
Though, even if there were a case where none of the pirates decided to speak to him, something swirling deep inside himself communicated to him that Kent truly was safe. He didn’t have to wonder if the pirate was telling the truth—no, Mo knew Kent was fine. It was magic connecting them together. Love and devotion in its purest form, linking them heart to heart. He’d told Noon of what he was feeling, and she confirmed that indeed, it sounded exactly like what he was looking for to become human.
As he slept, he dreamt he was a human again. He was back in England with Kent, walking side-by-side with him, hand-in-hand, on that familiar lonesome stretch of beach of the Solent. He even wore the same sort of clothes as Kent, yet his feet were left bare, feeling the warm pebbles under his toes. How was it possible that it all felt so real? How did he already know how to use his legs, walking effortlessly, as if he’d been doing it all his life? The dreams occurred nearly every night now.
If only he hadn’t lied. If only he had been honest from the beginning, telling Kent he was a siren?—
“Mo, wake up.”
Noon’s voice stirred him, yet as his head was still weighed down by his thoughts, he couldn’t open his eyes yet. One of his arms was bent under his head like a pillow, and he petted her smooth back with his free hand. “Ah… what is it?”
“You have a visitor.”
“What?”
Instantly, he pushed up on his arm and sat up.
Right there in front of him was a mermaid. A mermaid—who?—
—who bare a striking resemblance to Allen with her long, fiery orange hair.
“Well, good morning,” she said in mer-tongue with a curious smile. “I need to know: who are you? And what are you, a siren , doing trailing my ship?”
Mo blinked. “ Your ship? Pray, this is my ship!”
The mermaid’s smile faded, cruelly evolving into a menacing glare. “Seas, no, she isn’t! If you dare try to use your Song on that ship, I will bare my claws and cut your tongue out of your mouth personally!”
Mo’s jaw hung open. It took him a moment in his groggy, after-nap haze for his mind to catch up with what she just said. A siren. “Wait, no, you have it all wrong!” he clicked. “My beloved is on board—a human, himself. I shan’t dare use my Song and put his life in danger.”
She put her hand on her hip, bubbles fluttering in front of her from the motion. “And I’m supposed to believe that a siren has a human for a beloved?”
“Why would I lie about this? Why would a siren trail a ship day after day and not simply use his Song the moment he saw the vessel? Surely if this ship is yours like you say, you must have been watching me already and witnessed that.”
“He is telling the truth,” Noon added below him, slowing her swimming to a stop. “Be it may that he is a siren, he would not endanger the man he loves the most, who is on board. His devotion to the human is strong, unlike anything I have personally witnessed before.”
Mo’s cheeks warmed.
The mermaid shook her head, letting out a sigh of bubbles in front of her face. “A whale never lies. All right. I believe you. I apologize for the ferocity I showed. I, especially, should know better—how could I forget the tale Grandmother told me of the siren and the human? Forgive me, I was merely acting protective.”
Mo smiled, realizing the tale she spoke of must’ve been the same one he knew: where a siren became a human themself. He got off Noon’s back, treading water next to her and facing the mermaid visitor. It still struck him so peculiarly how much she resembled Allen—same vibrant hair, same sea-green eyes, same pattern of freckles on her similar slim nose. She was physically a bit smaller than Mo, swimming in place kicking her deep purple tail, but he couldn’t shake the thought—were she and Allen related somehow? Mo felt a bit awkward to ask. “You’re forgiven. Let us meet properly then: My name is Mo.” He put a hand flat on his chest. “What is yours?”
“I am Wenta. Tell me, who is your beloved? I do have to admit, I have been away from the ship and only caught sight of you trailing not long ago, just before the sun rose.”
“My beloved is a man named Kent Wilson, though the humans will also call him Lord Fareham.”
“ Lord ? Oh, is he of human nobility?”
“Yes, that is why he has a second name. He’s not a pirate; he’s been taken as hostage along with one other man from their original ship.” A man who bares a striking resemblance to you , Mo thought, but did not say aloud. “The pirates are to deliver him back to England for a sum of money, and I’m trailing along to ensure Kent is safe. Wait—you’d mentioned it was your ship. Who do you know who’s aboard? Is one of the pirates your beloved?” Unless she somehow was aware of Allen…?
Wenta chuckled, bringing a hand near her mouth. “I wouldn’t call him my beloved , but yes, one of the pirates is my dearest friend. Perhaps if you’ve been following, you may have met him. His name is Seth Jefferson, though he just goes by Seth.”
So it wasn’t Allen she knew, but his curiosity was still piqued. “I don’t know of any of the pirates by name, aside from Captain Young. What does Seth look like?”
“Very tall for a human, very thin, appears about our age. Long, rich black hair. He says the most outlandish things too, he never stops to think before words spill from his mouth! Such a charming man; he doesn’t fit with the rest of them.”
A light flickered in Mo’s head. “I know him! He’s the only other pirate who’s spoken to me. What a coincidence. He’d told me Kent was staying with him in his room.”
“Really!” Wenta trilled. “Well, that sure is something.”
“Still though, you are friends with a pirate?” It was strange to think, when he’d heard the pirates’ cruel words said to Kent directly from their own lips, that a mer would befriend any sort of pirate. However— “You say he doesn’t fit in with them. Why is he aboard with such unfavorable people? You trust Seth—that he is honest in keeping my beloved safe?”
Wenta nodded. “He is a strange one. He became involved with the crew of the sloop John Beaut simply because he’s an adventure hunter; he’s a man whose prior life was dull and uneventful, and he was promised something greater.”
“I suppose living on a pirate ship would be very… eventful. That’s what it’s called—the sloop John Beaut ?” He pointed to the ship above them, moving forward slowly. With his free hand, he gave a gentle pat to Noon, and their underwater group continued swimming along as well.
“Yes, that’s it,” said Wenta. “But even with Seth’s eye for adventure, he isn’t always aware of what he’s getting himself into—or exactly what sorts of people he’s aligning himself with. He does it for the thrill, he does it for the fun of it, but…”
Mo could feel the underlying hurt hidden in her voice. “…He’s too optimistic to always recognize the pain it causes others,” Mo concluded.
“Exactly,” she clicked. “But it’s where he is now, and the others still treat him well.”
The way she talked about him panged a dreadful feeling in his chest. Perhaps not every pirate was genuinely cruel, but some were honestly affable, and just happened upon a situation that labeled them as pirates. Allen was in a similar situation; Mo remembered how the redhead said he would join the pirate crew in order to go along with Kent’s plan. Yet that would mean—of all the pirate ships he’d sunk in the past, how many also had good and honest men on board? How many of them actually deserved to die?
And, despite being a loathsome human which no one had seemed to like, despite his death bringing Mo and Kent closer, did Harris truly deserve to die, either?
His thoughts plunged a dagger in his throat, and he mentally urged to pull it out. He couldn’t dwell on this any longer, and needed to move the subject. “Were you planning to swim above the surface and meet Seth again soon?”
“Yes, I would like to do as such.”
“I’m not sure if they’ll allow it at the moment,” said Mo. “I’m not allowed on board to meet with Kent, since he is their prisoner. I think they’re afraid I’ll cause havoc, which, I wouldn’t, unless they dared harm my beloved. So they might not let you on, for fear I’d join you.”
Wenta pouted, pulling a long lock of hair away from her face. “That’s possible. But I would still like to see him. Wait—have you even spoken to your beloved since he’d boarded the ship?”
Mo shook his head. “No, I’ve only spoken to Seth. They are keeping Kent belowdecks, and… oh, I just wish to see him. I miss him so dearly. I know we’ll see each other again once in England, but… you can imagine how worried I am that this will go smoothly. The lewd things the captain and crew said about him rise a fury in me that I can’t even describe.”
“I understand,” she chirped. “Say, perhaps I can help? I might be able to convince the pirates to let your beloved above deck, even to only see him for a moment.”
“Could you?” He could feel a smile start to stretch on his face at the prospect. “Please, oh please! I desire to see him so badly. I know he must wish the same.”
Wenta chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Mo’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do. But first, I really do need to eat something; I’ve been traveling for some time. Mind hunting a little with me?”