Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
A s quickly as his tail would allow, Mo swam to the surface, holding Kent in his arms.
He whipped his hair back and out of his face as soon as he was in the open air, and tried to do the same for Kent, reaching up and pushing his curls away from his nose. But Kent didn’t respond to his touch—his eyes stayed closed, his mouth parted slightly. Was he breathing?
Please, please be all right!
Mo held Kent close to his chest, his nose above the water as best as he could manage, and there?—
He felt Kent’s heartbeat against his own. He felt soft, warm breaths on his skin, on the crook of his neck.
“Oh, thank the seas…” He held one hand on the back of Kent’s head, keeping him steady as wave after wave continued to roll around them.
In front of them, the massive blazing John Beaut was a sight to behold. The ship creaked and cracked, splitting in two, flames reaching high into the sky, and the remaining pirates on board panicked in a frenzy, their senses returning. While Mo made sure he swam a safe distance away so as to not get hit with any flying debris, the mens’ terrified screams echoed through the sky, reverberating through his very bones. Some pirates jumped into the water, while others seemed to accept their fate, staying on the ship until it could float no longer.
Rain continued to fall, yet it was lighter than it was initially, and the thunder started to wane. Mo had heard tales about how, if used with such intensity, the Siren’s Song could affect the weather. This had never happened when he’d sang before, but then again, no other time were his emotions as strong as they were now.
“Mo! Over here!”
He turned his head, and to his left, he spotted Allen. The burly man swam toward him, cruising easily through the rolling waves that threatened to push him under; though curiously, he’d lost his shirt in the wreckage. That’s when Mo spotted it—there were deep lines embedded on Allen’s neck, almost like scars?—
No, they were gills.
“Are you all right?” Mo managed to ask.
“I’m fine, better than ever actually!” Allen put a hand on his neck and rubbed the new feature that must’ve been incredibly sore. Mo thought for a moment he might’ve had a tail as well, but upon closer inspection, no, Allen still had legs, wrapped in his breeches. “How is Fareham? Is he breathing?”
“Yes, he is. He’s all right.”
He felt magic bloom in his chest, pulsing along, matching Kent’s heartbeat with his own. Yes, he was sure that Kent would be fine, as long as they could make it to land…
“I lost my hold on Seth as we fell,” said Allen with a grim look on his face. “And I haven’t seen him bobbing his head. I’m afraid…”
“Mo, are you there ?” a feminine voice clicked loudly in mer-tongue.
“Wenta!” Mo shouted.
There she was, a short distance behind Allen, holding Seth in her arms similarly to how he was holding Kent. Thankfully, it appeared Seth’s eyes were open, albeit barely.
Allen looked at Wenta with a puzzled look, and there Mo realized—this was the first time the two had ever met. Mo wished they all could have met under better circumstances, but alas.
“Let me help you with him,” said Allen to Wenta. He reached and threw one of Seth’s arms over his shoulder, helping her keep him afloat. “For some reason, I could understand your clicks. That’s so strange. I am Allen, by the way.”
“I’m Wenta,” she said in English. “That is so very strange. You have gills like a merman, yet you still have human legs. I’ve never seen such a thing!”
“I am a half-breed, or something of the sort, so I’ve been told.”
“Perhaps we should spare the chatter for the moment,” said Mo. “We need to focus.”
“Right,” replied Wenta. “We are very close to England. If we swim around the ship, we should be able to see land.”
“Truly?” Mo’s heart raced in excitement that their journey would soon be over. Especially so, when he wasn’t sure how long Kent would last being mostly submerged in the cold water. Mo knew humans were not built to accommodate the temperature like merfolk were.
“Yes, now let’s hurry!” Wenta urged.
Mo swam quickly, kicking his tail, holding onto Kent dearly, doing his best to keep his head above the surface. They circled around the burning ship that was plummeting into the depths; the screams faded as the lives aboard vanished along with the vessel. But as each piece of the ship sank, and the rain still sprayed down, it churned the sea with a forceful storm surge. Waves ebbed and flowed, shrinking low, growing tall—it was a struggle to stay within the group, to not be plunged asunder.
“Wenta, my dear?” He heard Seth’s voice, weak and quiet. “Allen, too? Oh, where are we?”
“Don’t you worry your head,” said Wenta. “We’re bringing you back to England.”
“England?!” Seth’s eyes widened. “How could you! Oh, this is madness! They’ll hang me for treason; I’m a pirate!”
“They don’t know that, do they?” she said with an edge of playfulness. “From what you told me, last anyone heard of you in England you were a swab on HMS Halliday. They won’t know the wiser, that you joined a pirate crew after it was seized. Please, don’t assume the worst of me when I’m trying to save your life!”
Mo watched Seth sigh as the two redheads pulled him along the waves. “Yes, I suppose you’re correct. You’ve never steered me wrong, Wenta. Right along, then!”
They kept swimming; the mound of land in the distance grew larger as they crept closer. Mo wondered where Noon was, if she was nearby still, but figured that she likely took shelter elsewhere. The wreckage of the ship certainly would be frightening to any sea life, and he wouldn’t want to see her hurt by any sharp wood or loose weapons. Perhaps they will meet again, should fate allow it.
“Ugh… Mo?”
His breath hitched as Kent stirred in his arms. “You’re safe, darling. You’re safe.”
“Where are we…?” He coughed. “Why are we in the water?”
“We’re heading back to England. I’m swimming you there.”
“We are? Oh… Lord…”
Kent seemed to pass out as he said no more words, closing his eyes again. Mo held firm onto the back of Kent’s head, running his fingers through his long brown hair. Before he could let any worries overtake his mind, the magic pulsed inside himself again, and strangely, he felt a pressure from Kent’s chest touching his as well. It was if they truly were one—connected to each other.
But while Mo and Kent were connected, the three others drifted further away from them. The waves rolled higher as the John Beaut —now behind them—finally cracked its last cry, crashing its massive, towering mast into the sea. It sent a shockwave of water hurtling toward them, unavoidable, unrelenting.
“Mo!” Wenta called out.
“Wenta!”
Mo swam backwards, out of the rogue wave’s way as much as he could muster, never letting go of Kent. But Wenta and the others were pushed away behind the water wall, the current too strong to swim against.
“Wenta! Allen! Seth!”
The three were much farther now, and each passing moment they only drifted further and further away. He could barely make out the details of their faces anymore with how distant they’d become.
“Mo, don’t concern yourself with us!” Allen yelled, the wind carrying his voice from afar. “Focus on Fareham. We can meet up on land later.”
He knew Allen was correct, as much as he wanted to reach out to them. But Kent was his utmost priority. He felt in his gut that the other three would be fine. “Yes, all right!”
With that, Mo adjusted his grip on Kent, feeling his breath on his neck, and swam onwards.
Thankfully, as he sped along, the strong waves around seemed to lessen. The water became calmer. The clouds above spread across the sky, the rain merely a light sprinkle, and the sun peeked out again, casting stark, shimmering rays upon the earth before him. Light bounced off the sea and into the atmosphere, highlighting a spot of shore in the distance.
While had no idea exactly which part of England this was, he knew it must be rather close to Kent’s home if that’s where the pirate ship was headed. Closer and closer he swam to land— stay strong, Kent! Only a little further now! The power of the connecting magic surged through him, giving him strength, filling his muscles and urging him forward. He’d never swam this fast before, absolutely never, especially not while holding onto the weight of another being. But he was thankful for this; he would not take for granted any power that helped keep Kent safe.
As land grew nearer, the details of it became clearer. This shore’s landscape was quite different from the one of Kent’s home: large rocks and boulders jutting out of the sea composing most of the beach, and rolling, grassy hills instead of forests of trees. Perhaps they were a bit further from home than he’d thought, but either way, he knew once they’d settled, Kent could navigate his way back home.
But if Kent goes home, what will happen to me?
Mo took in a deep breath, his heart beating fast.
What will happen to us ?
He shrugged the nagging thoughts away as he focused on swimming onward. He couldn’t handle any more distressing thoughts, no, not when there were more important matters at hand.
Gliding along in the water, Mo managed to find a stretch of shore that was flatter than the rest—small pebbles and grass forming the smooth beach as opposed to the hard, rocky cliffs that surrounded it. It was so close, he could smell the earthy grass! He could taste the richness of the air! Oh, just a few more kicks, a few more thrusts of his tail, and they’d be there.
He’d completely lost track of Allen and the others; hopefully they were making it back to land safely just like him and Kent. He could only hope, but he didn’t doubt that a mermaid and a man with gills could easily pull Seth back to shore. And then—finally— finally— the water surrounding grew shallower. The ocean floor was so close to the surface now that his fins brushed against the underwater sand, and he had to maneuver carefully so he or Kent wouldn’t get tangled in seaweed.
With all his might, he crawled onto the pebble-filled beach, hauling Kent, panting ruthlessly, heart beat hammering. Needless to say, after a long swim at such an intense speed, he was exhausted. Before he allowed himself to collapse, he laid Kent down on the ground gently, careful that no stones cut into his skin and that they were far enough away from the water to where the waves wouldn’t cover his face.
“Kent…” Mo panted, raspy and low. He lay down next to his human, curling his arms around him, brushing Kent’s hair away from his face. “We… we made it…”
He put his hand flat on Kent’s chest, feeling his pulsing heartbeat, watching as his lungs gently filled with air—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Kent was alive. Kent was safe.
The rain had since completely stopped, letting the glow of the fresh sun blanket them.
Mo closed his eyes, content and blissful that the pirates could no longer hurt his beloved.
Kent wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, or if the strange, rough ground beneath him was real. His head felt heavy, his mind buzzing in a whirl, and he could barely open his eyes. But one thing that felt constant was the warm hand placed upon his chest through the opening of his soaking wet shirt—a comforting, reassuring magic pulsed within, and he knew that hand could belong to none other than Mo.
They were finally together again.
But… what happened?
As he started to come to, his lungs quaked, and he coughed a violent cough. He turned his head to the side, away from Mo, as he coughed out water that was trapped in his lungs.
“Kent! Are you all right?” he heard Mo say.
He coughed again before he could speak. He turned his head back toward the merman, finally able to open his eyes, catching sight of Mo’s concerned, tender expression. “Yes, I… feel all right. Where are we…?”
“I’m not quite sure exactly, but I know we’re back in England.”
“England?”
“Yes. I carried you, and swam us both here.” He smiled. “You’re safe now, Kent.”
Kent first pushed up on his elbows, then, struggling, tried to push himself into a sitting position. Mo sat up too and supported his back with one hand, helping him straighten up all the way. He looked around, making note of the large rocks surrounding their small area of beach and the sun shining on hilly grassy plains behind them. It all looked quite familiar. If he had to guess, perhaps they landed somewhere in Cornwall.
“You swam us…” Kent panted, brushing his wet hair away from his nose. Mo rubbed small circles on his shoulder blades, caressing him, soothing his aches. But something still wasn’t sitting well in his gut. He dug into his mind, sifting through his memories… and then—it hit him. The recollection flooded his mind like a massive ocean wave. “Wait, I remember now. We were on the John Beaut , and those awful pirates had me. But then… you were singing. Everything stopped. I saw you kill them, and… we… we fell in the water. You’re telling me that you swam me all the way from where we were back to shore?”
Mo bit his lip, fangs peeking out, and he removed his hand from Kent’s back, placing it onto his scaly blue lap. “Yes, I did. It’s… all true. What you saw was real.”
Kent stared into Mo’s azure blue eyes, wet and shiny with concern, a pain-crease between his brows. “I appreciate you saving me, Mo,” he said with genuine intent. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Mo’s brows relaxed, and one side of his lips ticked up in a small smile. “Of course, you’re welcome, darling. I promised to always protect you.” He huffed a small, shaky breath. “I cannot believe what those pirates put you through. It was terrifying enough to watch, but I cannot imagine the horror you must’ve been going through…”
Awful memories flashed in his mind like lightning, twisting Kent’s face. He tried to shoo them away. “It… it was horrible. Oh Lord, I’m so glad to be away from that.”
“How are you feeling now? Are you all right?”
Kent gulped. “Yes, I’m all right. For the most part, anyway. Thank you, again, for rescuing me. I truly mean that.”
Despite being relieved that he didn’t have to endure any more terror the pirates were forcing upon him, despite being relieved he didn’t drown under the waves, and he felt Mo truly was sincere in protecting him—he did swim him all the way here, after all—Kent couldn’t shake the bitter feeling that in some way, he was betrayed. It created a knot in his stomach, and now that he finally knew the truth, he had to speak on it.
“Mo… back on the ship, when you sang… you used the Siren’s Song. You’re a siren.”
Mo was quiet for a moment, gnawing his fangs into his bottom lip again, worrying the scar already there. He looked down, fidgeted with his hands, then looked back up, making eye contact with Kent. “I am.”
“You really had that power the entire time? I had no idea. I…” His lips trembled, trying to find words to express what he was feeling.
“Yes, I—I was born with this power within me. But Kent, I… um…”
“Did you ever feel like that was something I needed to know about you? That you should tell me?”
Mo shook his head, his gaze still down towards his lap. “I truly am sorry I did not tell you before.”
“Truly?” Kent’s heart raced, his nerves attacking his stomach. “But Mo, you didn’t just omit the fact. You lied to me. And I believed you. I defended you against the others that you were merely a normal merman!”
Mo did not reply immediately. But the way he looked at Kent was so pained, so scared, it somehow made the magic in Kent’s heart ache to match what Mo must’ve been feeling. It only upped his restlessness tenfold.
“I’m sorry, Kent. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“I thought sirens were supposed to hate humans. That’s why I so easily believed you. I didn’t think sirens were able to make friendships with humans, or, even more…”
Mo licked his lips, and Kent noticed he drew a tiny bit of blood from where he was biting them. It reminded him of the scene from earlier: the pirates’ blood dripping from his mouth. “Being a siren simply means I am a mer bestowed with the magic of the Siren’s Song. It’s a power I was gifted at birth, but it does not control me. I’m… still free to make whatever friendships… bonds… with humans if I please.”
“All right. I understand that, but…” Kent shook his head. “You still used the Song. You used it to kill other humans.”
“I used it to save you!” Mo cried, hand clutching at his necklaces.
“I don’t mean just that!” Kent shuddered. Tears threatened to spill as pressure tensed behind his eyes. “If you are a siren, that must mean you’ve killed dozens others before! Hundreds even, I don’t know!”
“I…”
“Don’t try to lie to me! I know you must have.”
Mo’s face pulled in a grimace. “But I…” He sighed. “You’re right. But—I usually only ever attacked pirate ships. I went after those that the kind humans deemed cruel. Please, Kent, you must understand…”
Kent was trying to, but the sudden realization of all this new information was so overwhelming. He knew he should calm down, try to talk this out more, try to understand Mo’s reasonings, but his anger at the fact that Mo lied to him was still consuming everything. Mo lied, and here they were now—Kent had trauma from the horrid actions of the pirates, far away from home, shipwrecked with nothing but the clothes on his back.
“I just…” Kent sniffled. “I don’t wish to be here… I want to go home…”
Mo let out a whine, a dry, tearless sob. He tried to touch Kent’s shoulder again, but Kent shrugged him away, forcing his hand to return to rest on his tail. “Oh, Kent, it’s all my fault anyway.” He rubbed at his eyes, cast downward; what was running through Mo’s mind must’ve been just as troubling as Kent’s own thoughts. Kent could feel it in his core, pulsing that shared magic. “ The Sterling Mer wouldn’t have been attacked by pirates if it weren’t for me, since I wasn’t keeping watch. You would still be home if it weren’t for me. I never meant to bring you misfortune, but it seems like that’s all I do. If it were not for what I did, you wouldn’t have taken Harris’s place…”
“Wait.” Kent held out his hand to make him stop; he could tell there was more to it with Mo’s tone. “What do you mean by that?”
Mo looked back up, meeting Kent’s eyes. “I need to tell you… Do you remember the old surgeon who disappeared, Harris?”
Kent nodded.
Oh, no. He had a feeling of what Mo was going to say before the words even left his mouth.
“I killed him. I used the Siren’s Song and killed Harris so you could board the ship.”
“You…” He couldn’t hold them back—he couldn’t stop his tears. “But he wasn’t even a pirate! He didn’t need to die, we could’ve found another way!”
“I know that now, I know!” Mo cried out, and there—Kent saw tears flow from Mo’s eyes as well. He’d no idea that merfolk could cry like humans until now. It sent a dagger of sorrow plunging into his chest, matching Mo’s own. “I realize now, but… then, I was acting on instincts. At the time, to me, it seemed like the right thing to do. All I was thinking about was how badly I wanted to be with you. I’m sorry…”
He wanted to be with me so desperately, he killed someone else to make it happen.
Such a thought stirred around in Kent’s chest, beckoning the magic again. It was a bizarre sense of longing, of want for Mo, a merman who did something terribly drastic because of how much he wanted Kent near.
But his stomach still churned. He whined out a sob.
“I thought you said the Song doesn’t control you? Instincts? What?—”
“Kent, please…” Mo wiped his eyes, making a curious face as if he was just as surprised as Kent was to see himself crying. “As the moons have gone by, I’ve been learning more about the Song. I’ve learnt more about myself—what the Song does to me and how it affects me.”
“And you thought you could just hide all this from me?” His chest quaked again, he coughed, and it only made his nerves tighten further. Tears ran down his chin as he cried. “This is a whole part of who you are that I had no idea about. A part that kills, a part that murders humans!”
Mo dug his hands into his scalp, pulling at his hair. “I know! I know! But I’ve learnt I can control it now. I don’t have to use it like I used to. Please, Kent, please…”
The pain in Mo’s voice was almost too much for him to bear. Kent wanted it all to stop. He knew he was being unreasonable when everything Mo was saying made sense, when Kent, as ridiculous as it sounded, could understand. But he didn’t want to listen further. No, not at the moment, not when he was still angry at him for hiding such a vital part of who he was from him.
He needed space. He needed to be alone; he couldn’t handle seeing those beautiful blue eyes so desperate for him.
“I’m going to take a look around here,” said Kent, putting a hand on his knee, and he stood up, pebbles grinding into his bare feet. Mo reached out to him, but he took a step back before the merman’s hand could touch. “I want to figure out where we are… see how far away from Portsmouth this is.”
Mo hesitantly put his hand down, and looked up to Kent from where he was sitting, tears trickling down his face. “How long will you be? When… when will you come back?”
His heart ached, magic clutching around and coiling in his chest. Pressure pulsed behind his eyes. A lump clogged his throat. “I don’t know… Oh Mo, I just don’t know.”
He turned on his heels, wincing at the uncomfortable small rocks poking underneath, and walked up the beach, toward the rolling grassy hills, trying his hardest to not look back at the merman.