The Seas Between Us

Chapter Thirty-Two

W e searched for hours. Nothing. Nothing came up. I waded into the water until I was waist deep, with the sisters yelling at me to get out of the water. We didn’t see one man coming from the water or laying on the beach. Adara volunteered to go to his home and see if we just somehow missed him, but no one believed that.

Owen was still in the water.

The moon taunted us from the sky, shining so bright with only half of her face showing. Not even the rolling clouds could conceal the moon face.

“Merrow, I think we need to start talking about the possibility that he didn’t leave the ocean,” Tia said as gently as she could. She touched my shoulder with so much hesitation that she nearly jumped when her hand connected to my skin.

“Wouldn’t we know though? I mean if he drowns, then the ritual can’t be completed, right? That wouldn’t count–”

“It wouldn’t,” Serita added.

“So what then? I became a mermaid again and, and we all just die out? ”

“You knew what the stakes were,” Serita said, and the edge in her tone that I’d come to know was back.

“Then why did you let me go back with him?”

“Because we wanted you to succeed too!” Tia snapped and the three of us jumped, Tia surprising herself.

“At this point, we need to get you ready to go back to the ocean,” Serita said, looking at the large bracelet on her arm. It lit up when she looked at it, and she tapped it a few times before she looked back at me. It was a tiny phone she wore on her wrist.

“It’s nearly midnight. The seventh day will be hard on you. Did anyone tell you what to expect?” Serita asked. When I shook my head no, she swore–a curse so vile it invoked the gods and the sea boiling into nothingness. I hadn’t heard the ancient tongue in so long it startled me.

“Oh child, it’s like they wanted you to fail,” Tia said.

“What do you mean?”

“Because you’re going to slowly drown on land until you bring him to the ocean. If he’s already there though, I don’t know what will happen. The ocean might just take you once the day passes to the seventh day.” Serita looked at the little phone again.

“It’s nearly midnight, maybe we should just stay by the ocean, just in case,” Tia added.

“I’ll stay,” I said and they looked relieved. “You don’t have to stay though.”

“Child, you have walked this path alone for too long. We will stay with you,” Serita declared and that was that. Her voice threatened to crumble, and it would have taken me out if she let herself go.

“I wish you could come back to the ocean with me.” Tia and Serita held my hands, and smiled. Serita checked her wrist phone again and the smile that tugged tightly across the corners of her mouth was so tight it looked like her face might crumble.

“We wish we could too,” she whispered. And then I felt it, that calling, and heard the magic from my tribe, singing and singing to me.

“Can you hear them too?”

“Yes,” Tia said, and they joined the song. The words were still etched deeply in their memories. Adara came barreling back to the beach, out of breath, but joining in too. She shook her head, telling me that Owen wasn’t home. He was still in my home.

My feet went out from under me as they shifted back into fins again. The pain was much less, and I think it was just because they were here with me. Serita lowered me into the water, as my legs fused back together and the scales took shape. The three of them stopped singing as my tail unfurled, the fins slapping the water. Tia touched the ends with such awe. I flipped water at them until they smiled again. With the clouds parting, they could see the colors of my tail and each of them gently touched the scales.

“Do you miss your scales?” I asked.

“I miss my fins,” Adara said.

“I miss the taste of the water on my lips,” Tia said, reaching down to run her fingers in the water and touch them to her lips.

“I miss everything about the ocean so much I can hardly stand to look at it,” Serita declared and her sisters agreed.

“Then why do you stay? Here? You can go anywhere now.” My body had shifted completely again, lungs demanding water and they let me swim out a little to get fully submerged.

“Because leaving it would be even worse,” Tia said. They waved their goodbyes to me, and I let the tears fall. The ocean accepted them readily, and I waved my tail fins in the air, waving back to them. I ducked under the water and breathed deep, letting the water fill me.

The darkness in the ocean had never felt more oppressive, but I stopped and listened for the siren song. I listened for my mother’s voice and for Lilia to call me home.

A flash of gold in the darkness shot by and I chased after it. I knew what the gold streak was.

I knew who it was.

Thrumming with a renewed energy, I swam after Anahita. But she was swimming away from the music, away from my people. The power in her movements left a wake behind her, but I swam through it.

“Anahita wait! Please!”

She didn’t answer. I yelled her name again and again, but she didn’t respond. I saw her look over her shoulder, checking if I was still coming, as she picked up the pace. Anahita was much faster than me. She swam like the ocean couldn’t hold her back, like no current had the strength to stop her.

“Stop! Anahita, please!”

She finally slowed, turning fully to look at me. I rushed as fast as my tail would take me to her. “Why did you call me?”

“I was hoping you could help me–”

“Why?” she spat. This version of her was so different from the trapped and wounded mermaid I met just over a week ago. Her body was poised for an attack, regal but terrifying, and I fought the urge to cower before her.

“Please, I don’t want to hurt him,” I said, and the dam of emotions broke then. I cried and cried, and Anahita didn’t move. She didn’t budge, or sink, or even tread water. Anahita hung in the water completely suspended.

“What would you have me do?”

“Tell me another way to save him, to save my tribe.”

Her golden eyes narrowed, and she hissed, her face shifting briefly into something wholly beast like. I backed away, hiding my face. She seized my chin, holding me in place, forcing me to look at her.

“Your tribe? The White Tides?” Bitterness and resentment seemed to seep out of her, and now I was shaking. “Your tribe is full of backwards, stubborn cowards. Their magic isn’t just disappearing girl, it’s being consumed . And do you know by whom? I think you do, girl. You are as smart as you are kind.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, and she merely laughed. She didn’t move an inch, her magic simmering around her.

“Yes, you do, but you don’t wish to acknowledge it. Tell me who is taking all of the merfolk magic.” It couldn’t be–

“I don’t know–”

“Tell me!”

“I don’t know!”

Her tail fanned out, the span of her fins so wide and intricate I gasped. She swirled around me until I was trapped in a vortex, faster and faster, until there was no escape. The water violently cascaded around us. It was an impenetrable wall of water, and I struggled to breathe.

“Tell me, deep in your heart, you know who is running this farce.”

“The Pearls,” I breathed out, and Anahita’s cruel, beautiful smile beamed across her face.

“Indeed. Defy them and I will help you.”

“How do I–”

“The time is coming, girl. Fight their magic with everything you have, and if you succeed, I will help you.” She stopped swimming and the vortex immediately vanished. My body still spun from the current, and she grabbed my shoulders. The beast-like face was back–gone were the beautiful, angelic features and they were replaced with the long, jagged snout of an eel. Her golden features glowed so bright I could hardly look at her.

“How will you find me?”

“Merrow of the White Tides, I have known your name since before you were a dream forming in your mother’s mind. The future of your tribe is yours to decide.”

“And Owen? ”

“You should hurry,” Anahita said before disappearing in a ball of light.

The music from my tribe turned to a chant. The soft, lilting notes morphed into a rhythmic, haunting chant that chilled my bones. I knew very little of the ancient tongue, but even without understanding the words, I knew their meaning. The magic wrapped around me and I swam toward the sound. The waves amplified the song so even the ocean dwellers heeded the call.

I swam for miles and miles; my tribe wasn’t near the shoreline, and after chasing Anahita, I was lost. The water was inky dark and I wanted to go back to the surface to see if the clouds covered the moonlight again, but I didn’t. My body demanded that I follow the call of the music, and I drifted along with it.

As I got closer to the hum of activity, I saw my tribe coming into view. They have fires burning underwater, trapped in small globes. The firelight cast murky shadows around everyone, and their faces seemed gaunt and sharp. The beauty of the mermaids was gone; these creatures were dark and powerful, whipping around in the water like writhing eels.

And there was Owen, in the center of the firelight, a bubble of air wrapped around his head. Relief crashed through me like the breaking of waves. He was still alive. Caspian held him firm, not letting him move. Owen’s legs dangled in the water, bare and vulnerable. Humans were not meant to be so bare; his skin was so pale the firelight made him look even more exposed.

I saw the Pearls behind him, chanting with their hands together, magic flowing freely. Anahita was right; as my people swayed with the magic, the Pearls’ faces smoothed out, the wrinkles falling away and their hair growing and sparkling. Their scales shimmered more, the luster of their tails threatening to rival Anahita’s now. The mermaids were so entranced by the display that they didn’t seem to realize how much their bodies and faces were changing. Or maybe they just couldn’t do anything about it .

Owen’s wide eyes and pinched expression were clear even in the distance. His terror and fear filled the water as much as the music did. Every cell in my body wanted me to dance and sway with my people, wanted me to bow to the Pearls and lower myself to bask their magic. Owen tried to kick free, but Caspian was much stronger. Born and bred to be a warrior, but Owen was gentle and creative. His artist’s hands were soft and constantly covered in paint. Nothing about him was fierce, except in how he loved.

“She’s here!” someone screeched, and the chanting, the music all halted. The wisps and waves of magic still whipped around the Pearls, and everyone turned to look at me.

Even Owen.

He tried kicking in earnest again, not to reach the surface, but to reach me.

I was drawn to him, not the magic now. I wanted to touch him, see that he was real, that he was still alive. Shoving my way through the throng of merfolk, finally Owen and I were just a few feet apart. The entire guard of the White Tides was with him, Caspian trying his best to look calm and uninterested, but I saw the pain on his face. What earned that look didn’t matter, as long he didn’t harm Owen. There would be more days for us to work through this moment together, because we were going to have more days.

“Owen,” I said, and even though it looked like he had been crying, he beamed at me.

“You came back,” he said. His voice was distorted and distant in the bubble around his face.

“Of course I did. I won’t leave you.” A couple drops of red floated in the bubble and he tried to jerk away from them.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, but he shook his head, wincing.

“I’m okay, Merrow. ”

The guards tried to stop me from getting closer, but I was too fast for the bulky mermen. They grabbed at me and my tail slipped through their fingers. One of them grabbed my braid and I smacked with my tail fin as hard as I could to get him to release me. Owen struggled to free himself, to come help me, but Caspian wouldn’t budge an inch.

“Merrow, daughter of the White Tides, you have brought the human here for the sacrificial offering for your adulthood. He came to the water of his own free will, came to you with open arms, and an open heart,” the Pearls chanted in unison. They lost the essence of being separate beings when they spoke and cast their magic like that; their words echoed and pressure built in my chest, pressing and pulling my ribs until it felt like each one would about to snap.

“Merrow!” Owen shouted, and Caspian elbowed him in the back.

“Stop this, please!” I said, and no one listened. No one responded.

“Now it is time to complete this holy, ancient ritual and restore our people, revitalize their souls, regenerate their ethos.” They held out a coral blade, short and blunt with a brutally jagged edge.

“No,” I breathed, “No!”

“It is time,” they said as one. A hush settled over the merfolk, quiet gasps and murmurs. It had been over a generation since a ritual had been performed, and my people seemed to have forgotten how bloody this would be because no one mentioned to me how this would go. I spotted Lilia with my mother, both pale and holding her each with tears in their eyes. My mother shook her head no, and Lilia couldn’t bear to watch.

Even the guards had settled, not wanting to get roped into this cruel slaughter.

“I won’t kill him,” I declared, and Owen’s bright, sea green eyes were my grounding point. I would not do this– damn the consequences!

“You will, or we will remove his air bubble, and he will die anyway,” they said .

I swam to him and threw my arms around his neck. His arms were bound, but he tried to cradle me in the crook of his neck, his head leaning against mine.

“No,” I said, and saw that Owen cried now too. Silent, slow tears that the ocean greedily took. My hands cupped his face, his neck, anything I could touch and soothe. I shook my head violently, trying to force this moment away.

“Merrow, it’s okay. I knew what was coming,” he said, so soft, so quietly, that it was just for me to hear. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t let go of you,” I sobbed, and Caspian turned away to give me this moment. Tears were swallowed by the sea. I wanted to kiss him again. There had been so little time. I just wanted to kiss him again.

“Fight their magic with everything you have, and if you succeed, I will help you.” I heard Anahita’s voice in my mind again, playing over and over. “Fight their magic with everything you have, and if you succeed, I will help you.”

“It’s time, Merrow,” the Pearls chanted. Their voices blended together as one, ancient and chilling, and their magic dragged me away from Owen. I clung to him, trying to keep us together, my head shaking back and forth with him whispering soothing words in my ears.

My arms were not my own–heavy and painful, my arms weighed me down like an anchor had been tied to me. With my arms behind me, pulling me through the water, I flipped my tail helplessly trying to stay close to Owen. His lips were blue, and his breathing became more and more labored. The rise and fall of his chest was too sharp and shallow for him to draw a full breath.

His air bubble was running out of air.

The knife was in my hand. When did I pick it up? I hadn’t. I wouldn’t have. Owen’s resigned face broke me, and I strained against the weight of my body, my arms and tail now moving without my permission .

Fight their magic.

Fight it.

Fight!

I strained every muscle in my entire body, heaving and grunting, to force my fingers to open, to drop the damn knife. Its jagged edge was so close to my side that if I shifted at all it would have cut me. The blade wasn’t long, but the heft of it, the sheer thickness of it would slay any creature.

Owen’s bare stomach was just a few feet away now. My arm poised to jab the blade deep into his gut, a wound so fatal there would be no chance of survival. My hands cramped up from trying to open them, but they didn't. I couldn't drop it. Owen squirmed, desperate to get away from that wretched blade, but Caspian refused to let go of him. His fear was like a siren call of its own for the knife.

“Caspian, please! Let him go. Take him to the surface!”

“I–”

“Do not speak, warrior,” the Pearls snapped, cutting him off so harshly that Caspian dropped his gaze. I felt arms around my waist, and saw that Lilia tried to drag me back, tried to kick her fins, but it was useless. She didn’t move us at all, and the blade nicked her fin while she tried to free us. The little stream of blood didn’t stop her, and she only seemed to fight harder. My sweet, shy sister fought like hell to get me away from Owen.

“Stop fighting this. End the human before we do.”

“You wouldn’t–”

“As long as he dies in these waters, the magic will be sated. The blood can come after the death.”

“Merrow,” Owen said, and murmurs from the merfolk died out. “Thank you, for being real. For loving me.” His voice was so far away, so small I could have imagined it. Owen’s pale lips and paling eyes broke my heart wide open.

“It was never the magic,” I cried, and he nodded .

“I know, and I love you all the more for that. I’m running out of air, please, I… I don’t want to suffocate.” His words were ragged, and he used precious air to even speak to me.

“You are taking too long,” the Pearls hissed, and everyone, even the warriors, flinched. They popped his air bubble, and panic stole what little air Owen had.

“NO!” I screamed as loud as I could, as I broke the spell weighing me down. Owen sank, Caspian too shocked to keep his grip, and I dashed through the water to grab him. He flailed, burning through his air but unable to stop, and I grabbed his face to bring our lips together. I breathed air into him, covering his mouth to take another breath before blowing it into him. He stopped flailing, trying so very hard to stay still and breathe , but my breaths were too shallow. There wasn’t enough air to fill his lungs and Owen’s eyes became unfocused, staying open too long under the water.

He was dying.

“Owen! No, no, no, you can’t die, please, just breathe,” I sobbed, blowing more and more air into him until I was dizzy myself.

“This is how it must be,” the Pearls said, and I hissed. Cradling Owen in my arms, I kissed his lips again, blowing one final breath into him before I dove for the knife. It was on the seafloor, sticking out of the sand like a saber from the stories Owen showed me. He had shown me so many things, all of the small joys of the world above, and how precious it was to be loved.

“I refuse to be a part of this,” I said, a final act of defiance. I drew the knife and plunged it into my own belly. Pain shot through me and I screamed again, but I didn’t dare pull the knife out. Limply swimming, I went back to Owen and held him. What would life be without this love to sustain us? What good was the magic to keep me alive if it meant stealing life from this pure soul ?

“I love you,” I said, and Owen’s unfocused eyes locked into mine. Blood stained the water, filling it with an oozing, sickening red. He couldn’t see it anymore. He couldn’t see anything.

Owen was gone.

I heard the shouts of my family, screaming and crying, angry with me, but I felt no regret. The pain spread through me and I knew the knife had done its job. Owen’s body sagged in my arms, and I’d have it no other way.

“Merrow of the White Tides, you are worthy of your wishes being granted. Owen Harper, gentle heart, you are worthy of your wishes being granted.” Her voice boomed, shaking the foundations of the seafloor and making the drops of my blood form into globs.

Anahita descended from above, golden light and golden magic covering every merfolk around. She stopped right in front of me, eyes blazing with molten magic. Silence flooded the seas–all music, all noise–vanished in her presence, save for the sound of my terrified breaths.

“Allow me to see your deepest wishes, and I shall grant them.” I nodded furiously, but Owen couldn’t respond.

“He n-n-needs air,” I stuttered, barely able to speak over the pain. With a flick of her wrist, the wound closed up and the relief hit me so hard I whimpered. My body sagged but I didn’t let go of Owen. I’d never let go of him.

Anahita circled us, like she did before, faster and faster until we were wrapped in the vortex of magic. The water parted and air rushed in around us. I squeezed Owen, trying desperately to keep my grasp on him, but without the water to hold him, he was much heavier. We stayed suspended there, until Owen started coughing out water. I cried so hard my chest wanted to cave in as I beat on the top of his back, trying to get more water out of him, until he took a long slow breath, looking around. I pressed kisses to his face, his forehead, the top of his hair and the tip of his nose.

“How?” he choked out .

“I found her,” I said, and he locked eyes with Anahita. She smiled at us, at him, while he took in deep, gulping breaths of air.

“Neither of you will suffer here, but I need to know. What is it that you want, Merrow and Owen? You sought me out, you helped me when no one else would approach me, and you fought for him. Tell me,” she said.

“I want to save my people without hurting him. I can’t trade his life for anything,” I said.

“And you Owen, what do you want?”

“I just want Merrow to be safe and happy.”

“Why?” she asked, head tilted, curiosity in her tone.

“Because I love her,” he said, looking at me with a blush across his cheeks.

“Such large wishes will require a sacrifice.” We looked at each other, and Owen moved the hair out of my face, kissing my forehead.

“You taste like the sea,” he said, and I laughed. I cupped his face, my fingers digging into him.

“So do you.”

“What will you offer me for these wishes?” Anahita said again, more gently this time.

“What kind of sacrifice do you need?” Owen asked.

“That is for you to decide, but it must be something that you give freely. I will not take anything unless given.”

“Then, I’ll offer up my tail,” I said, and Owen’s attention snapped back to me. “I’ll become a human, and give up the sea forever.”

“Merrow, no, you love the ocean, you can’t–”

“Do you accept my offer?” I asked, and she smiled.

“Then I offer my legs,” Owen said quickly, turning to her. “Please, don’t take her tail. Don’t make her a human. Merrow would be miserable on land. I’ll give you anything, even my life.”

“Owen, no– ”

“And what would you be losing, Owen Harper? Were you not chosen for your loneliness on the land? How is this a sacrifice?”

“Because I was finally building the life I dreamt of. I’d lose it all, and I’d never be able to paint again.” His throat bobbed at the last words and I squeezed his hand.

“I accept your offers.”

“Wait, which one?” I asked.

“Both of them.” Anahita smiled wide and magic poured into us, down our throats and in our ears, until it seemed to be leaking out of us. “The merfolk will be saved, Merrow of the White Tides, and your lover will be safe, Owen Harper. The cost is a tail and two legs, but I am not cruel. You will gain and lose them every month, forever to walk between the worlds. There will be punishment for the Pearls, who abused our magic.” Her tone went sharp, glancing through the wall of magic, where I knew the Pearls had to be.

“Why are you helping us?” Owen asked, and I tried to shake my head, not to question this gift too much. Owen smiled at me, but turned back to Anahita, the earnestness of his question etched into the lines around his eyes.

“Because it’s time for things to change, and you two are the precedent of what life can look like for the land walkers and the ocean dwellers to live in harmony again.”

“How long will this last? For my tribe?” I asked, praying that this was the end of the rituals, of the bloodletting.

“Forever,” she said and the tears came back. Owen held me against his chest, my tail curling around his legs, and Anahita’s smile was radiant. “This is the future that I see, and I could not be happier.”

“Who are you?” Owen asked .

“I have many names–Atlana, Neptune, Regis, Solaris–but I like Anahita, ocean’s blessing , the best,” she said, golden, radiant magic flowing around us.

“What happens now?” I asked, the vortex already starting to fill with water. I wrapped my arms around Owen, and he squeezed me.

“That is for you to determine.” When the vortex collapsed, Owen and I floated on the surface. His legs were intact, along with my tail. I kissed him, savoring the feel of him next to me, alive and breathing.

“I love you,” I confessed, “I think I loved you from the moment I saw you in the gallery. I loved you when I saw you painting that night on the beach.”

“I’ve loved you my whole life, and I’m so damn lucky that I get to keep having more of a life with you.”

The cloudless sky held the half-moon amongst the stars. Owen didn’t even look up to admire them, his intent gaze on me. I had more nights ahead of me, watching these stars and this moon with him.

“My house or your cave?” he said, the grin I loved so much blooming on his face, lighting up those sea green eyes. I kissed him again, and his laugh against my lips warmed every part of me. My fins split painlessly into feet, and I swayed to get my balance, but Owen’s arm against the small of my back kept me steady.

“Yours, it seems. Can we order noodles again? With shrimp?”

“Only if you let me peel this time. Eating the shells is weird, you know that right?”

“Your tune will change after a few meals with our tribe,” I smiled and he kissed me again, playfully slapping my bare rear.

“We’ve got time to figure it out.” Covered in moonlight, I rested my head against his chest. Time. We had time to grow old and learn each other’s worlds.

“Take me home,” I said, and Owen held my hand as we headed for the shoreline.