Prologue - Marella #3
For a moment, nothing happened, and I was sure that the witch had lied—that she’d played a trick on my mother to see how gullible the merfolk truly were, and that she’d laugh us out of the cavern without a backward glance.
I was so sure, but so wrong.
Suddenly, the cavern began to shift. The bricks that formed the walls shook on their foundations, filling the space with the sound of screeching stone.
My mother’s hand dropped from mine, and I spun in place, convinced that we were about to become buried beneath mountains of rubble.
But despite the thunderous noise, nothing fell but dust.
When I finally turned my attention back to Petra and my mother, I froze.
The Stone Witch had pulled my mother from the water, fin dangling and thrashing beneath her flailing body.
From the juncture of their wrists, I watched as the same cracked, hard surface spread from Petra’s fingers across my mother’s arm.
It spread slowly, but all at once, so in a matter of seconds, my mother was still as a statue.
Because that’s what she was.
Where my mother, once vibrant and brave and powerful, had been moments before, stood the statue of a mermaid, yellowed skin flaking as if weathered by thousands of years in the sun, and a terrified expression plastered across her face.
With an expression I was sure mirrored that frozen face, I dared to look once more at the witch.
"I suggest you run, little princess," she said menacingly. "If you want to spend eternity with your family."
With one last glance at my mother, I took off through the brackish water. It took me longer than I thought possible to find my way back to my family, and the sun was beginning to come up when I finally rounded a familiar corner and found them, awake and panicking, near the bed of the canal.
My father’s eyes were alight when he saw me, concern and terror painted clearly across his face.
"Marella," he cried as I barreled into his arms. He pulled me away from him by the shoulders, looking over me to check for any obvious signs of hurt, as he had when I was small. "Where is your mother?" he finally asked.
"Father, I—" I began, but I was cut off by the rushing sound of water and tumbling rocks. With a violent gust, we were sent flying to the surface, ejected onto the cobbled streets of the city.
My sisters immediately tried to dive back into the water. The noise had caught the attention of the humans living in the surrounding apartments, and when they saw us splayed out on the ground, they immediately began crying out for weapons.
Before any of us could scramble back into the depths, however, a searing pain speared through my fins. And judging by the screams of my sisters, I knew they felt it too.
I watched in horror as my fin split in two, the bright green scales melting into smooth, pale skin. Legs.
All around me, my family screamed as their fins separated into the spindly human appendages, leaving them unable to move, unfamiliar as they were with the muscle structures.
"Marella!" my father cried out as he attempted to stand. "What happened?"
"Father!!" I screamed, tears pouring from my eyes as I watched the first humans spilling from the doors along the canal. "I’m sorry, I tried to stop her! I tried, I—"
But I was cut off.
I could still see and hear, but my voice had become lodged in my throat. For a moment, I thought that the humans had reached me. That I’d look down and see a harpoon, or some other weapon, protruding from my midsection.
But the truth was far worse.
The humans had not reached us in time. But neither were we safe.
Around me, my father and sisters had all turned to stone, their faces a mix of horror, fear, and blistering anger, all directed towards me.
Just like my mother, we were frozen in space, aware of the passing time, but unable to move or interact with it.
When the humans did catch up to us, they first tried to break us down. They came at us with hammers and chisels, axes and swords. But whatever material the Stone Witch had crafted us from was sturdy, and we held firm.
After several days, they decided that we were no longer a threat to them.
After several years, they had all but forgotten how we’d come to be there in the first place.
And after several centuries, we were nothing more than decoration, a tourist destination, a place where parents took their children to look at our faces and shout in mock-horror.
We became part of the backbone of the city.
Never mind that we discovered the ability to move on the night of each new moon. Never mind that when we woke, we did so with a thirst that was more of a threat to humans than anything we’d been before. Human memories were short, and our hatred was fuel enough for stealth.
We became something more than humans, more than merfolk, forged from stone and thirsty for revenge.
And we remained such for so long that I can barely remember being anything other than this: a night-stalking creature made of hunger.
But thirst was never going to be enough to drive us forever. We needed something more.
And so, every month, when we woke in the dark to hunt humans for sustenance, I left my family behind and searched for the Stone Witch.
I never found her.