Chapter Merfolk in the Moonlight #2
“You can take your dress off if you want to join us. I’m sure you have very nice breasts,” the beaded merwoman offered. “And I would know. I love a good pair of breasts.”
Louisa laughed and shook her head. “I’m— I think I’m good.”
“Why are you out here? Hardly anyone swims in the park at night, and no one does it in the winter.” The merwoman with the shorn hair pointed toward the glowing shape of the nearby wharf.
Even from a few blocks away, the sounds of people and piped in music drifted across the water.
“Were you watching the wharf? That’s what we were doing. ”
Louisa couldn’t say what compelled her to tell them the truth.
Maybe it was the fact that she was in a vulnerable position, or perhaps it was the cold addling her brain.
Either way, she found herself admitting, “I got broken up with tonight because I’m boring.
Going for a swim felt like— it just felt like maybe it proved him wrong. I know it’s stupid, but…”
All three merwomen’s faces froze. Incredulous, the oldest one asked, “Your mate left you?”
“Well, we weren’t officially…” Louisa shook her head. What did the details matter? “Yeah,” she answered, voice raw from emotion and saltwater. “He left me.”
Of all the things she could’ve expected from the three merwomen, it was not for them to explode into howls and begin thrashing the water with their arms and massive tails. Louisa recoiled, alarmed at the terrifying sight of three vicious predators' outrage.
Lunging for the fence, the beaded merwoman bellowed, “You should eat his liver!” Her black and white claws, thinly webbed between the fingers, curled around the buoy like it was Greg’s thin neck. “You should eat his kidneys, too, so you get all the nutrients he doesn’t use for his brain.”
“You let him into your cove and he abandoned you? You should take your mating rope and string him up below the docks! Let the selkies have him,” the older one called out, aghast.
The one with the shorn hair made a sucking sound behind her sharp teeth. Slapping the surface of the water with her palms, she growled, “Merfolk would never abandon a mate. This was your first mistake, brave woman. You should’ve chosen a strong mer.”
The merwomen made a chorus of noises, some of which Louisa recognized as agreement. Shaking her head in astonishment, she kept her lips just above the water line as she mumbled, “I’m not a good fit for a merman, I think.”
A series of scoffs made her cheeks heat despite the cold that was beginning to lose its euphoric effects.
“You’re brave enough to swim in the ocean at night,” the oldest one pointed out.
The beaded one gestured over her shoulder. “And my brother’s mate is human. She’s weak but he doesn’t mind.”
The one with the shorn hair gave her a look of deep concern. “You didn’t give the weakling land-dweller pups, did you? A mer won’t mind raising another’s pups, but you should kill the father first before mating. It will save your new mate from having to do it to avenge his pup’s honor.”
“I don’t think— Wait, merfolk kill people who leave their kids?”
The oldest merwoman flashed a terrifying snarl. “Abandoning pups means letting them die in the dark water or starve in a cove. It’s a fitting punishment.”
Louisa let another wave bob her like the buoy as she absorbed that troubling information. She’d known things were harsher under the water, but that was harsh-harsh.
Feeling a bit like she’d lost what little control she once had of the bizarre interaction, Louisa spat out a mouthful of saltwater before she answered, “Um, no. We talked about kids, but—”
If she wasn’t so cold, she would’ve jumped at the second explosion of sound from the merwomen. At least this time it seemed to be one of approval rather than outrage.
“Then all is well,” the beaded one exclaimed. “Once you eat his liver, you’ll be full and ready to find a better mate to breed with when the season comes. We will help you.”
Despite the growing stiffness in her limbs and the pain that was beginning to creep back into her skin, Louisa found herself laughing. “You’re a lot nicer than I was led to believe. I thought you’d try to eat me, not find me a partner.”
The one with the shorn hair flicked the water with a haughty sniff. “We only eat the weak and those who trespass. We like brave women who dare to swim at night. You’d do well in a pod. You’re weak, but we would protect you.”
The three merwomen nodded and made more of those strange melodic sounds.
Something warm bloomed in Louisa’s chest despite the frigid water doing its best to send her into hypothermia. It felt a lot like acceptance — and there was nothing headier than the acceptance of women.
“Thank you,” she rasped, arms swirling to keep herself afloat. “That… that really means a lot to me.”
“Your lips are turning a strange color,” the oldest one pointed out. “Is that supposed to happen?”
“N-no,” Louisa chattered. “I probably need to get back to shore now.”
“Come here for a moment, then you should go,” the beaded one urged, waving her toward the buoy.
Feeling a bit like her limbs had increased in weight tenfold, Louisa forced herself to wade closer. The fence stood between them, barely visible beneath the dark water. She grasped the frigid metal of the buoy with numb fingers and waited for whatever it was the merwoman wanted to say.
All three drew closer. Placing their hands over hers on the buoy, they leaned as close to the fence they dared.
The strangest sense of togetherness made Louisa’s chest go painfully tight when the beaded one whispered close to her ear, “We’re friends now, brave woman. You can’t be sad about your mate anymore. He’s not worthy of you, and your pod would eat him if he were here.”
The oldest one gave her wrist a gentle squeeze. “We will find you a better mate.”
“And,” the one with the shorn hair offered, “if you bring me his teeth, I will make them into a necklace for you.”
“Wow,” Louisa gasped, “I–I love th–that you do c–crafts. C–can you t–teach m–me?”
The one with the shorn hair puffed up with obvious pride. “I will teach you.”
Overwhelmed by the camaraderie — a thing she’d never gotten before from her own people — Louisa fought back a wave of tears when she said, “I’m Louisa, by the way.”
“Mary Celeste,” the beaded one replied, gesturing to herself. Pointing to the oldest one, then the one with the shorn hair, she introduced, “This is Lydia and Candace.”
“I–it was r–really great to me–meet you tonight,” Louisa said, with some difficulty. She offered the merwomen the strongest smile she could muster under the circumstances — mainly the brutal cold that was slowly stealing the life from her. “But I think I ha–have to go now or I–I’ll die.”
Like it was a funny joke rather than a very real thing that could happen, the merwomen released her hand with a laugh and shooed her back to shore.
“We’ll see you soon, Louisa,” they sing-songed in their strange, hypnotizing accent.
Forcing her limbs to work, Louisa began to doggy paddle back toward the sand. But not before she yelled over her shoulder, “M–may y–you find war–warmth on the da–darkest n–night!”
After all, it was a holiday, and as she stumbled blindly out of the water and into the sand, shaking uncontrollably and chilled to her very marrow, she knew for certain that they’d given her a gift better than any other.