Chapter Twenty-Eight
T he world spun once Lilia said my mother was in danger. Caspian and Lilia wouldn’t tell me another damn thing, just leading us back to the tribe in silence. Owen’s sweet, smiling face held the pieces of my heart together, but just barely. I wanted to rush to him and let him cradle me in his arms, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t look at his face when I knew he was the key to saving her.
The tribe’s atmosphere was solemn. Lilia led us to the ocean floor, to an area that wasn’t as deep at the shipwreck. It was more built up than I ever remembered our tribe’s settlements being. It looked like they were working on shelters. Braided seaweed and rocks made the bases for walls and floors. Merfolk worked together to weave grasses together making some kind of roof. What need did we have for roofs in the ocean? Anger tinged my senses, bitter heat erupting in my mouth. What were they doing when my mother was–
Laying on a rock, near a small enclave. It wasn’t big enough to be a cave, and I suddenly recognized why we were so close to the surface. Why the caves here weren’t deep and what my people were doing .
They weren’t building shelters. They were building transports . Breena was near my mother. Both of them laid too still for my liking.
I kicked my fins as hard as I could, launching myself forward. Lilia called after me, but I ignored her. I swam until I knelt before my mother, pressing kisses to her hands, her face.
“Mom?”
“Merrow? What are you doing here–”
“It doesn’t matter, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”
“Oh darling,” she said, turning away from me to rub at her eyes. Time stopped as I waited for her to collect herself, to speak. “I think I’m turning.”
“Into an ocean dweller?”
“No, darling,” she said, lifting her tail. Her perfect, beautiful tail had a split forming down the middle. The scales were torn and falling away. The shimmer of them was nearly gone; her pink and purple scales were the same color as flushed and bruised human skin.
“You’re turning into a human,” I cried, and she nodded. I glanced around at the others around us. Breena. A few of Caspian’s commanders. His sparring partner, Auros. Only the merlings and a few of the younger adults were up and about. Some had split fins. Some stared at nothingness, the vacancy in their eyes more terrifying than the breaking fins.
“Is it time for the ritual to end?” she asked.
“No Mom, I just–” I couldn’t say the words. The bag of golden scales seemed to twinkle and tingle, jarring our attention. I pulled one out to explain what happened and my mother sat up, straining to look at them.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, her voice growing hollow.
“I found them at the shipwreck,” I said, and handed her the bag. My mother pulled one scale out and held it between her fingers. The reverence in her eyes made my throat close up, but then she popped the scale in her mouth and chewed .
Her scream filled the waters, scaring away fish and making the merfolk take cover behind each other. Her fins slowly, achingly knitted back together. The sound of wet flesh smacking and sliding as the split bled and bled made my stomach knot up, but I didn’t look away. Her fins were back together. The split was gone, and her newly grown scales shone with life. She looked like a young mermaid again.
“Mom!”
“Those scales are pure siren magic,” she said.
“What? What do you mean?” I asked, and she kissed my face.
“Those scales will save our people.” She stroked the hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ears. I could tell how badly she wanted to braid it, but I just leaned into her touch. My mother’s soft scent, sunlight and salt, filled the water around us, and I hugged her. When was the last time I just hugged her like this? So much had happened, so much she needed to know.
Before I could stop myself, I told her about Owen. I told her everything about him, how I met him, what art was and how he dreamt of me. When I finally told her that he’d come to the ocean, she paled.
“He’s here?”
“Yes.”
“But the ritual is so soon, if he’s in the water when it starts–”
“We have to leave the ocean tonight, before he changes back.”
“Child, now that he’s here, the ocean won’t release him, no matter what kind of magic you have.”
“Mom, what are you–”
“Oh my sweet Merrow, you succeeded. You completed the ritual, and I am so sorry,” she said.
It was that moment that Owen chose to approach, the feeble smile not making it to his eyes. The sandy blonde hair floated around his head like a jellyfish in motion. Everything in me told me to go to him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t .
“Pasha? I’m Owen, and I’m so glad that you’re okay,” he said, and my mother’s face softened as he spoke. Whether she felt his sincerity or was just too tired to stay stoic, I couldn’t tell.
“Hello Owen,” she said, and neither of us missed the edge of sadness in her tone.
“Owen–”
“I’m so sorry child, truly.” Her grip on my hand tightened, and I couldn’t move. The scales made her incredibly strong, and I strained to get out of her grip. Her nails cut into my arm and sparks of pain shot down my arm.
“Mom, stop it, what’s going on–”
Before she could answer me, Caspian and his fellow warriors surrounded us. Owen backed into me, and I turned as much as I could to him. My mother pulled me closer to her, and Owen didn’t move. He didn’t reach for me. He didn’t try to escape. He floated next to us, holding out a hand to me. Our fingers barely grazed when he said, “I love you.”
Caspian seized Owen’s hands behind his back and half dragged him away. Owen started to fight, but Caspian whispered something that made him go still as death.
“Owen!” I screamed, but she still held me. I screamed his name again, trying desperately to get to him, to tell him to swim away, but Owen only smiled that damn, sad smile. The one I’d see on his face when he watched people walk together on the streets of his home world. The one he’d make when he painted some kernel of desire that he tried so hard to keep locked in his heart. The one he’d been giving me all day.
“Owen!” I shouted with all my might, willing whatever siren magic I still had in my veins to call to him and force him to obey.
It didn’t matter once Caspian hit him on the back of the head and Owen’s lithe figure went completely limp.
“We have to find more of these scales,” my mother said .
“I have a bag of them. There’s maybe ten–”
“Merrow, if we can find the owner of them, maybe this will all be over.”
“And Owen?”
“I think it’s too late for him,” she said, finally releasing me. “He’s being taken to the Pearls now, I’m sure. At least you won’t be a part of it now.”
“But the ritual isn’t until tomorrow! We have to try !”
“You don’t have much time. The magic will pull you back if you aren’t here. You have to see this ritual through, my Merrow.”
She touched our foreheads together, fins lightly brushing. Every moment felt like a goodbye and I couldn’t breathe. The warriors were still around us, watching. Waiting. Lilia peeked out from a small boulder, pointing away.
“What should I do?”
“You know what to do, but you have to hurry.” I kissed her cheek and gave her the rest of the scales.
“Help whoever needs it the most,” I said, and then I darted off. The warriors shouted out at me to stop, to yield, but I swam even faster. Their bulk and muscle slowed them down, and I took every advantage I had to get further away. The daylight waned and darkness flooded the ocean.
Owen was gone–Caspian and his warriors hauled him away. Their shadows were so small now that I could barely see them. They moved deeper into the ocean, and soon they were gone completely. I had to keep going.
Back to the shipwreck.
Back to Anahita.
Time was running out.