The Seas Between Us

Chapter Twenty-Five

A nne Marie didn’t stay the night. She said she wanted to process everything again, assured us she wasn’t angry, just really blindsided. How did I expect her to react? How could I expect anyone to react if I told them the story? The scales on Merrow’s body were the only shred of evidence we had. She said she was going to dig around and see what she could find on Anahita, if there was anything to find.

Merrow and I stayed up late; sleeping felt like such a waste of the few precious hours that I had left. I painted more images of her, trying to capture every look and movement that I could of Merrow, because I knew even if things ended well for me, this was still a goodbye.

So I painted.

The wine finally got to Merrow and she fell asleep, snoring like a wild animal, mouth open and dangling off the bed. I placed my large popcorn bowl near her face in case she woke up retching. Cleaning puke off of my bed was also not how I wanted to spend my final hours.

I’d worked myself into some kind of frenzy as I painted. The muse took over and my hands moved on their own. Merrow laughing. Merrow with a fragile, webbed hand on her chest. Braiding her hair. Staring at the TV remote like it was some magical object. I tried my best to capture the light in her eyes, the sweetness of her face, and while each painting was beautiful, none of them were exactly her. I’d only ever done one painting that captured her essence, and I’d painted it a long time ago.

Stomach growling and back aching from being hunched over for so long, I finally joined Merrow in bed. She rolled over to me immediately, her arms wrapping around me, legs twining through mine. She barely stirred and from the amount of snoring, she hadn’t woken up. I breathed in the scent of her, still mixed with the smell of the wine, and let peace settle around me. Safety, happiness. I’d never truly known those feelings until this past week. She’d brought me to life just in time for it to end.

I hugged Merrow to my chest, making her bristle a bit in her sleep, but didn’t let go.

When I finally woke up, the sun was high in the sky. It had to be close to noon. Merrow was awake but laid next to me, rubbing little circles on my shoulder. I didn’t remember taking my shirt off, but I was bare chested, and Merrow seemed to delight in that. Her lips brushed against me, and I felt how she smiled as she peppered me with kisses.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Yeah, how are you feeling?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Her hair was a giant pink mess and she had dark circles under her eyes. Merrow’s normally pale skin was even paler than usual. I kneaded the back of her neck and she practically melted around me.

“I have a terrible ache in my head that has spread down my neck, but otherwise I feel fine.”

“Wine headaches. Not fun.”

“It reminds me of swimming too deep in the ocean, the steady pounding that makes you wonder if your head is just going to explode from the pressure. ”

“Yep, that’s a wine hangover,” I laughed. “Where is my shirt?”

“You didn’t look comfortable, so I took it off.”

“How did you get it off?”

“Owen, I escaped the watery depths of my home, I can manage to get a shirt off of a human man.”

To that I had no response.

“What time is it?” I asked, trying to reach my phone. She handed it to me, not bothering to look at it. She couldn't tell me the time.

“I don’t understand time here. There’s morning and daylight and night, but the humans have every ray of the sun monitored and counted. It’s exhausting.”

“You have no idea,” I chuckled, seeing that it was a quarter until noon. We rested all morning. I had seventeen messages from Anne Marie, and surprisingly, one from Liz at the gallery.

I opened that one first. Hi Owen! It’s been a few days since the exhibition and I wanted to know if you could swing by for us to talk about another event? Maybe in the fall? Call me when you have a min!

My stomach dropped. They wanted me to do another art show. They liked my work enough for me to have a second show, and none of it mattered because I was going to die in two days. I deleted the message and then opened the message thread with Anne Marie.

Yo, there is literally nothing on the internet about this chick Anahita.

Is that how you even spell it?

Ask Merrow how to spell it.

Wait. Nvm. Don’t do that. God I’m a bitch.

Okay so, I might have something.

It looks like there was a story of a pretty mermaid that granted wishes, but there’s no name in it. She’s just a pretty mermaid.

How fucking sexist, honestly

Anyway

The pretty mermaid grants wishes to those with pure hearts and then only if she likes them? There was something about her “conquests” but like, I honestly don’t think you have sleep with her.

Pretty sure the author of this did some fan service.

Right so, we need to find some pure hearted ppl and then get them to not drown and ask her a question

Bc it looks like everything happens in the ocean

But who knows, this seems so out there. Like none of this is helpful.

Owen seriously, are you still sleeping? You didn’t even drink.

Lol how hungover is Merrow?

Ugh, I know you’re not working bc I took you off the schedule, but I feel like we need to talk again. I don’t like how things happened last night and I need reassurance that you don’t hate me.

OMG is that why you aren’t texting me back????

“What does it say?” Merrow asked, gesturing to my phone. I read out the messages from Anne Marie and she laughed. “Tell her that she was right, hangovers are not fun.”

I typed out the message and hit send. She responded back immediately with a laughing emoji. Merrow’s toes were tucked behind my knees so she could keep them warm. She was still wedged against me, like letting go wasn’t an option.

“So today’s the day,” I said. The stones that the sisters had given us sat on the nightstand, and Merrow turned to look at them. I didn’t want to admit how nervous this all made me. Excited too, but my nerves trumped the excitement.

“Yes, we should try to rest today. Thankfully that storm has passed. Are you ready to see the ocean?” She laid the palm of her hand flat against my chest, feeling my heart beat.

“Yes,” I breathed .

“Do you know how to swim?” Merrow propped herself up on an arm to look at me. She scrubbed a hand over her face, and it brought a little color to her cheeks, but not much.

“Of course I can swim!” I flicked her nose, and she squeaked. It was the cutest sound, and we both laughed. I needed that laughter–I knew things were ending, but it wasn’t done yet. I needed every second of joy I could soak up with her.

“Underwater?”

“Well, sorta, I mean I haven’t really done that in a while.” I thought about how I struggled to go further underwater in the past. I tried, but I never made it very deep. The crushing knowledge that my lungs could only hold so little air made it difficult to propel myself deeper.

“You’ll learn quickly, and we will go together.”

“I trust you,” I said, and the blue of her eyes seemed to darken. Her lovely, soft pink hair trickled down her shoulders. The braid was nearly undone, hanging in wild, loose curls. I had my hands curled in it before I could stop myself.

“Didn’t I just mention how we should be resting? ” she laughed. Her voice was husky but bright, and I watched as she licked her lips, readying to kiss me. I knew where this kiss was going by the way her body responded to me, how she clung to my chest, her scales lightly scraping across my skin.

It was about two hours later when we finally got out of bed.

I needed to stretch my legs, so I volunteered to get some lunch for us. Merrow couldn’t stomach the smell of pizza after last night, and I didn’t want my final meals on earth to be mediocre take out. She offered to come with me, but I asked her to stay home. For just a little while, I needed to be by myself to breathe in the sights and sounds of my home. This wasn’t a goodbye, I tried to assure myself, but that’s how it felt.

The art gallery was just up ahead, and my feet seemed to be moving there of their own accord. I shouldn’t go in. I shouldn’t talk with them, because they would want to know why I wouldn’t be around in the fall for another show. They’d ask questions and be disappointed that I wouldn’t agree to another show. But it didn’t matter, because Liz and Carla were outside, looking at their current window display.

There was no avoiding them now.

“Owen!” Liz shrieked, running over to me with her arms opened wide for a crushing hug. Carla smiled at me, but didn’t rush in for a hug and my ribs were grateful. Liz finally released me, and they both grinned at me.

“Did you get my text? We need to start talking about the next exhibition! We’ve gotten so many people asking for more of your prints. You’ll be getting another check from us soon!”

“That’s great,” I said, trying to force myself to smile.

“Let’s meet next week to talk about the fall showing. I think sometime in October would be good. Do you think you could have enough pieces by then for another showing?”

“Yeah, definitely.” My words fell so flat, and I saw them register how emotionless I was.

“Owen, are you alright dear?” Carla asked. She squeezed my arm and it was everything in me not to break. Or to spill my guts about the mermaid in my bed. Instead I focused on the window display, taking in all the details of the pieces they had there. Glass vases and metalwork animals. The theme seemed almost jungle-like, like they already moved on from the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m good, just a little tired today, sorry. Had some friends over last night and we drank a little too much.”

They smiled at this, probably happy that I wasn’t alone like they always saw me. We said our goodbyes, and they both hugged me this time, and I hugged them back. Liz and Carla were still new in my life, but I could see how they would become the fun aunts that I’d never had. The gallery could have been another home .

I’d been gone longer than I meant to be, so I hurried to my favorite sushi place, Osaka Rolls, and ordered several of their famous rolls. I knew Merrow would love these, and I went for more sashimi and simpler rolls. As I waited in the small restaurant, I watched the koi pond and let my mind wander. I kept thinking about the gallery and the mural that Anne Marie wanted me to paint. I kept thinking about my art and how much I didn’t want to stop painting. How I didn’t want to die.

The hostess called my name and handed me the bag of sushi, jarring me from my thoughts. Merrow was at my apartment waiting for lunch, so I hurried back. I didn’t want the sushi to get soggy either. This place was on my special occasion only list because it was so pricy, and I couldn't think of any other occasion that would be more important than enjoying my last days. Hours.

I needed to stay optimistic–we had a plan, and I’d happily pay off my massive credit card bill if it meant that I was still around to pay it. The stones. Merrow believed in them, and so did the Saltwater sisters.

The heat of the day dragged on and I was sweating hard when I made it back to my apartment. Merrow was there, pushing buttons on the remote, flipping through channels and shows like a woman possessed. She didn’t even stir as I came in, her focus wholly on a home renovation show.

“I’m back,” I said and she nearly jumped off the couch. She rushed into my arms and I nearly dropped our lunch. “I brought sushi, it's like fish and rice and some veggies together. I think you’ll like it.”

She only nodded, hugging me tight. “What’s wrong, Merrow?”

“I saw something horrific on the box,” she said.

“The TV?” She pointed to the TV and buried her face against me. “What did you see?”

“I saw a shark and a human tried to kill it. I don’t understand why; sharks are mostly gentle creatures, but always hungry. They don’t harm mermaids, but the humans treated the shark like it was some kind of monster. They eat, like all creatures, and this human with very large arms kept trying to hit it with a hammer!”

“It might have been just a movie? You know, like a story. It’s not real.” I stroked her hair, letting her snuggle close to me.

“It did look odd, like it was a painting instead of a real shark. I haven’t actually seen any humans that look like that.”

“Can you show me?” Her face blanched, but she stayed close as I looked through what she was watching. Her fingers dug into me, clenching my arm almost painfully. Her nails were sharp like little spikes.

Merrow was watching cartoons. Old-school cartoons. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh as she watched a cartoon cat and mouse chase each other around and around, throwing dishes and knives from a kitchen cupboard.

“What are those things doing!” she turned away, utterly afraid.

“Merrow, it’s a cartoon. It’s not real, just a drawing.”

“Why are the small creatures so violent!” Merrow shrieked, pulling my blanket up to her chest. Her hands were fisted in it and I quickly changed it back to the home renovation channel. A show about gardening started and she visibly relaxed. Her concern over the cartoons had me worried about the sushi, and if she would be upset about the fish. But then I thought back to how she chewed through the shells of the shrimp.

“Ready to eat?”

“Yes, I miss fish.” The worry was misplaced as her eyes glazed over at the tuna and salmon. She ate each piece in one bite, licking her fingers. Merrow refused the soy sauce and wasabi, instead preferring to eat the fish by itself. I doused mine in soy sauce and spicy mayo, and she laughed as she happily munched away. I opened the seaweed salad and she lit up again.

“This reminds me of home,” she said, and the affection in her tone nearly choked me up.

“We’re going to the sea in a few more hours, are you ready?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “We have to find Anahita. ”

“Do you know where we should start?”

“I have a couple of ideas,” she announced with a spark of confidence in her voice.

But for now that was the end of the conversation. Merrow led me to my room after we finished our meal and we cuddled up in my bed. She stripped off her dress and laid herself bare on the sheets. She rolled into the blankets, humming with delight. Merrow loved my blankets, and she loved the feel of them on her skin and scales. I crawled into bed with her and touched the delicate scales just to hear how she responded–little chirps and cries, shivering and burrowing closer to me.

Neither of us had any words as we laid together, but the silence wasn’t awkward and didn’t hang over us like a cloud. It was peaceful, like how I felt standing at the shoreline secretly hoping the waves would break against me.

She lightly slept, tossing and turning in the mess of sheets. I stayed still and quiet, content to spend time with her. I should have rested too, but I couldn’t.

By five pm, I was restless. The reality of going into the ocean was now just hours away, so I painted. If I somehow lived–doubtful, really–I wanted to have some paintings for the gallery. And if I was going to die, then I’d leave a note for Anne Marie to give them all to Liz and Carla. I’d have to ask Anne Marie to take care of things for me… but it's best not to think about that conversation just yet.

Tonight I painted the shoreline. I thought about the arc of the crashing waves and the way the sand held its color as it got wet, and the tracks of small sandpipers. I thought of shells and driftwood, and the scene came to me in bits and pieces. I always sketched out my paintings before I really dug in, when I knew it would be a complex piece.

This one would be complex; because I imagined Merrow at the top of a crest, trying to wave at me. Mixing the colors on my palette, the tension drained from my shoulders. I hummed the song I knew that Merrow was supposed to sing–her siren song that haunted my dreams–as I worked.

“Once I’m sure that the song won’t make you go crazy, I want to sing for you,” she said, stretching in bed with her voice still muffled with sleep..

“I can’t wait. I feel like I know what your voice sounds like from my dreams, but I want you to sing to me.”

“Maybe once we’re in the water. I don’t think it would affect you if you have a tail.”

“When are we going?” Merrow looked out the window, pressing the stone around her neck closer to her heart.

“Soon. We should head to the beach soon. Wear something you don’t mind losing.”

Merrow let me paint for another thirty minutes, but I couldn’t concentrate. My brushstrokes were awkward and the colors didn’t look right. I stopped before I threw the whole canvas away. I hated messing up on large canvases. They were expensive, and every mistake made the money spent feel even worse.

Merrow paced as much as I did, before we decided that it was time. I wanted to pack my things, but what would I even bring? I didn’t need a wallet or a phone.

“We need to see Anne Marie. I have to give her my keys before we go,” I said. I felt naked without my wallet and phone, but Merrow simply nodded, not used to needing such things. The spot she wanted to go to was the same spot where she arrived on land; Merrow hoped that her friends–Caspian and Lilia–would be easy to find so they could help us.

Beans and Barley was already closed when we popped our heads in, while Anne Marie cleaned up for the evening.

“Hold onto these for me?” I asked, tossing the small keyring to her.

“Your apartment keys?” she said as she jingled them .

“Yeah, we’re going tonight. And, I needed someone to hold them for me, so if we come back–”

“ When you come back,” she snapped. Merrow narrowed her eyes at me too, like she didn’t approve of my word choice either.

“When we get back, so I can get back into my house. I didn’t want to just leave them under the welcome mat,” I grumbled.

“You don’t have a welcome mat,” Anne Marie said, her tone so flat it was past sarcastic.

“He will be safe with me,” Merrow said, touching her arm but Anne Marie said nothing. I wanted to linger here, wanted to find a reason to stay and talk but there wasn’t anything left to say. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me, to see what I would do or if there was anything else for me to say. It wasn’t goodbye, I tried to remind myself. But as the moments passed and it was clear that I didn’t know what to do, Anne Marie broke the silence with a nod and gave us both a quick hug before we were back outside heading for the ocean.

The weight of the stone around my neck felt like an anchor. Magic pulsed in it as we got closer and closer to the waves. Each pulse seemed to radiate through me like a second heartbeat. My hands trembled, shaking from nervousness or the magic, I couldn’t tell.

And then I froze. For the first time in my life, I was afraid to enter the water. Merrow strode toward the water, half dragging me. She didn’t sense my rising panic, and I didn’t want to even acknowledge it. The ocean was always beautiful but watching Merrow dip her toes in the water, shoulders bare with her scales in plain sight, made the water shimmer with magic and energy. The waves slowed as she walked in ankle deep. Once the water touched her, Merrow released my hand and breathed in deep. The joy she felt was so clearly visible on her face and I tried to drink it in; this would be the perfect painting .

When the water reached my toes, it shook me from my thoughts. The cold shocked my system, lighting up my nerves and making my stomach churn with the waves.

“Merrow!” I called out. She was already up to her waist before she turned to look at me. The water calmed around her as if it was yielding to her presence. Welcoming home one of its lost children. Her splayed fingers trailed in the water and every place she touched stilled.

“Come on, Owen, I’m here.”

“What’s gonna happen?” My knees locked up. I couldn’t force myself to go in any further as panic blinded me. Everything in me screamed in terror, desperate to get out of the water.

“The water will activate the magic, and then we will dive under the waves. It’s going to be okay–”

The change hit her so hard, it knocked her under the water as I watched her slack-jawed thrashing like she was drowning.

Was she drowning?

I ran through the waves, searching for where she went down but I couldn’t find her. My arms grazed against the sandy bottom and as I got closer to the drop off, I felt it.

The magic.

First, it took my legs. My clothes ripped apart as my bones fused together and the pain was blinding for a second until I was numb and couldn’t feel anything at all. I couldn’t feel my legs because they were gone.

My feet melted away, dissolving into water. I felt the space where my feet had been floating against the water, like the tingling of nerves. And then my hips and the muscles along my spine shifted and flexed until I wanted to cry out again but couldn’t–

Because my head was underwater and my lungs were collapsing with it. The taste of salt filled my mouth and drowned my nose. My eyes burned as the water had rushed into my ears, until I didn’t know which way was up .

I was drowning, I realized, as black spots danced in my eyes and the burning in my lungs slowly engulfed my whole body. I wanted to breathe. I wanted air , but I didn’t know where to even find it. My body was leaden and heavy, the dead weight of my legs– tail –dragging me down, down, down. It wouldn’t matter about Merrow’s ritual; I was going to die right now.

My body sagged and I tried to figure out where I was before the lights went out completely. I must have been dragged out to sea, because I kept sinking.

The burning in my lungs and body flickered out like a dying flame, and my eyes closed.

This was it.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Merrow.

Just as my eyes closed, something collided with me like a harpoon to the gut. Everything tensed up and the burning lit me on fire again, everything tingling and alive all the way down to my mangled feet.

Air, I just needed air .

Hands cupped my face and when I opened my eyes again, I saw Merrow. Her pink hair floating wildly behind her, panic etched in those blue eyes that pierced even through the color of the seas. With just the water between us, I saw her as she truly was and my heart seized. Merrow brought our lips together and she kissed me, the taste of the salty water still in my mouth but then there was the taste of her .

And air.

She blew air into my lungs, and I nearly cried as my body greedily took it in, desperate for more.

Again, a kiss and a breath.

Again.

Again .

And then the magic of the stone righted itself, the pearl-like pendant hovering at nearly eye level. I was breathing. I was breathing! I gasped and sucked in mouthfuls of water, down my throat and through my nose, but wasn’t drowning.

“Owen, can you hear me? Please, answer me, please,” Merrow crooned, and her voice traveled through the water and wrapped around me like an embrace. This was how she sounded in my dreams. This was her true voice.

Then I saw her tail. It was long–like really long. And her fins splayed out through the water rippled like harp strings. Her tail was mainly blue with flecks of purple and pink in it. And her fins–they were iridescent, shimmering against the waves, drawing my attention.

I wanted to touch them. I needed to touch them.

“Owen, please, are you okay? Can you hear me?” Her voice was distorted, echoing in a whisper within each drop of water. She sounded like water rushing and bubbles forming. Her voice was the ocean itself.

“Yeah,” I stammered out and she swam around me, the muscles in her abdomen moving with controlled strength. A flick of her tail and she rocketed around me, inspecting, searching. The clothes that didn’t fall away hung in heavy rags around me. Merrow ripped my shirt off, and the chill of the water hit me again. I shivered and noticed that my tail rippled too.

My tail.

I had a fucking tail. And fins . There were scales on my body, covering most of my stomach and chest, and all down my arms. They were midnight blue like the color of the ocean at night. It was so heavy–so much heavier than my human body had even been–and I struggled to move. The scales had the same iridescence as Merrow’s but while she shined, I had a quiet luster to mine. They felt as soft and I shuddered as I touched them.

My hands still looked like my hands, but they were blue now, and something deep in my heart eased. Not the absolute panic of being a merman, but the joy of it. The joy of being in the water, a part of it, a part of something .

“Let’s see if you can swim,” Merrow said. I’d never tire of that voice. It lilted all around me. Soft pink skin and dazzling blue scales circled around me.

“How do you do that?” I asked, and I startled at the sound of my own voice. It carried through the water too. I felt it in the water like it was a physical thing, like the water now carried more than just my body.

“Do what?”

“Your voice–”

“Ah, mermaid magic.”

And then she sang. Merrow sang in a language I didn’t know but the pull of the music threatened to break me. Sorrowful and beautiful, full of life and promise–the song promised so many things and I ached just being away from her.

I tried to swim, but my body protested. My stomach didn’t move the same way hers did. My tail bent oddly and pain shot through me when I tried to get it to move too. Nothing responded to me as I willed my body to follow her.

“Swimming, Owen, not walking. Your tail is one limb, one vital piece of you. As are your fins. Can I touch them?” Merrow was already near my fins–also midnight blue and thin, darker than hers but not as beautiful.

“Umm, sure,” I said, trying to move them. They didn’t feel like feet . They felt like when your foot falls asleep and you force it to move.

Merrow lightly, so very, very lightly touched my fins and electricity shot through my tail and up my spine until I shivered. It felt so good .

“Sorry, fins are… tender. So it’s rude to touch someone’s fins without permission. ”

“Can I–”

“How about you swim a little before you try to rub your fins with mine?” Merrow’s eyebrow shot up, and the laugh that came from her seemed to shift the direction of the waves.

“I think I need a swimming lesson?” I flashed a smile, trying and failing to get my tail to flap or swish or do something other than twitch like a dying fish.

Merrow’s laugh sprayed bubbles toward me, each one floating and tickling my face. She swam to me, her hands on my stomach and pushed against the muscles there, trying to show me how to move. Merrow gripped the base of my tail where my torso gave way to it, pressing against the back of my tail. It twitched and my cheeks heated. The grip stirred up my desire for her, and with every grazing touch, I felt desperate for more.

“Think of your tail like your legs, but you’re moving it as one. It’s an extension of your back, your hips. Remember how you held me when you made love to me, pushing into me until I was nearly screaming, do that. It’ll ripple down your tail.” The heat from her words shot through me, igniting that hunger for her. Those ocean eyes locked onto mine and I started to move, trying to pivot my tail like I had moved my hips and fire burned in her eyes. The way she licked her lips, tongue darting out, told me she remembered that night too. Merrow grinned, and we were swimming.

“Every time I swim, I’ll be thinking of you,” I said. The words were husky, catching in my throat.

“When aren’t you thinking of me, Owen Harper?” she said, flipping away so just the tips of her tail brushed against me.

My muscles screamed in protest, demanding me to stop to catch my breath, but I pushed through that pain. I never wanted to stop–this swimming, this flying through the water unleashed a part of me I tried to bury.

Home, I realized, the water felt like home.

Merrow flicked her tail and she shot straight down, heading deeper into the waves. I tried the same motion and didn’t get nearly as far, but I was starting to get the hang of it, the feel of my fins instead of feet. They floated and drifted much more than I ever expected, the delicate fins rippling in a way that flesh couldn’t. It surprised me that I felt them all the way down to the tips.

She slowed down, waiting for me to catch up to her. Light became more scarce as we swam deeper and deeper. The water was so icy, it stung my skin and scales. I grimaced, rubbing my arms to try to warm them up but it ruffled the scales there, making me wince.

“Where are we going?” I asked. Words filled the space around us, echoing between the waves.

“I want to look for this ship wreck. It’s where I saw Anahita, maybe we will find something there.”

“How deep down is it?” I asked, the blackness of the water more terrifying than anything I’d ever seen. It was all consuming, all encompassing–

I’d never been more afraid of the dark. Every nerve in me told me not to go any further, but Merrow simply waited, her head cocked like she was trying to puzzle through the fear etched in my face. My tail froze and I couldn’t convince myself to go any further. The darkness seeped into me and terror gripped my bones. This was not the oceanic wonderland that I imagined.

“Not too far. Owen, are you alright?” Merrow swam back to me, and the warmth of her body was enough to ease the chill around me. She was warm and alive and not afraid.

“It’s so dark,” I whispered out but the waves still echoed it, blasting my fear all around us.

“Trust me, trust your eyes. They will adjust,” she promised, stroking my cheek. I felt my scales fanning out, lifting. Her touch made me shiver, and I leaned into her, letting her cup my face. Ever since meeting her, I sought after these small comforts, her touches .

I nodded. The words were stuck in my throat and I didn’t want them to echo around us again. “Trust me, Owen. Your fear is valid, your feelings are valid, but I won’t let you drown in it.” Her extended hand was practically lost in the darkness, but I saw it. I saw her. Our fingers intertwined and it made it harder to swim, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go.

The darkness swallowed us whole, and as we swam deeper, the cold punched through me even harder. It ripped through my senses, bringing me more alive than I had been the entire time I was in the ocean.

Pressure built up, pressing against every inch of my body, and I struggled to swim. My muscles were spent. How did Merrow just get up and walk on the land? Like she had been born with legs. I sucked in another lungful of water and choked at first, my instincts telling me how wrong this was, how dangerous it was to take in all that water. But then I just kept breathing, the water flowing in and out so easily because this body was made for water.

“The pressure change will take some getting used to, but we have to go deeper. The ship is at the bottom of this ledge. Then we can go find my tribe,” Merrow said.

“Will it be just as dark?” I asked, already knowing what she was going to say.

“Yes, but your eyes will adjust soon. Things will start to get brighter. You’re a merman now, Owen. Don’t fight it.”

Merrow took both of my hands then and I saw the smile blooming on her face. Her features were sharper in the water, more like a predator instead of the sweetheart I met on land. I saw the mischief in that smile, saw the hints of her humor and how she loved to play. Her finned ears twitched as she smiled too, brightening everything around us.

With one massive flick of her tail, we were spinning. Merrow spun us until there was a vortex forming, dragging us through the current. It felt like being in the teacups ride at the carnival, spinning and spinning with the world just a blur around us. Her hair whipped wildly around and her fins splayed out. Mine had too, as we rode the waves together.

“Don’t fear the ocean, I’m here,” she said, and the words were more lyrical. Merrow started to sing, and the seas between us seemed to vanish. Wrapped in her voice, the pressure eased around my body, and the nerves eased in my chest. She hummed the song that I knew, then changed the tune to just her harmonizing with the echo of the water.

The water swirled and swirled, and when she stopped, when the grip of the current finally let go, we had descended even deeper into the water. I saw the ship. The husk of it, rotting away from the salty water. But I saw it.

The world wasn’t pitch black now, but rather just muted. The colors were there and lovely, but everything was monotone. Blues and more blues, except for the dark, rotting wood of the ship.

“There it is,” she whispered. She kicked her tail and we shot off straight toward it.