Chapter 6
Keld
Keld lay on his back in the water, perfectly still. His ceiling was painted a soothing lilac, the shade of Usoi’s shoreline grasses. With his ears underwater, he could barely hear his phone ringing. If he hummed, he could drown the sound out entirely.
He closed his eyes, willing the phone to stop. But his mother was nothing if not persistent. After five minutes without ceasing, Keld gave up. He snatched his phone up from the pool’s edge and pushed it against his ear.
“Jiei,” he said flatly. “What do you want?”
“Why in the depths did it take you so long to pick up?” his jiei snapped. “And don’t take that tone with me.”
Keld pressed his forehead to the smooth, granite edge where the apartment floor met his pool. “What happened this time?”
“Got fired. Need money for food.”
Keld ribs squeezed his lungs like furious fingers, preventing him from taking a full breath. His mother was unemployed more often than not. That tended to be the case when one failed to show up to work on time, or left early whenever she felt like it.
“You have the entire ocean right there, go fishing,” he retorted.
“You know damn well my joints are no good. I can’t catch shit.” That, at least, was probably true. Prolonged tavra use was known to cause buildup of crystalline structures in a Mer’s joints.
“I’m not sending you money.” Keld sighed. “But I’ll bring groceries. Send a list.”
His jiei grumbled and cursed, but eventually sent a list of items—mostly nonessentials Keld would be ignoring.
“I’ll be there in an hour. Just… take a nap or something.
” Keld hung up before his mother could start raging.
He ground the heels of his hands into his temples, wishing he could crush the fear and anger from his mind.
That his mother would just disappear and free him from the burden of being her son.
From being the consequence of a heat-induced mistake.
Keld had no doubt that his mother would have crushed him in the egg had the Paeil government not stepped in to incubate him.
Apparently his genetics were too valuable to risk.
So few Mer nymphs survived long enough to hatch, those that did were more precious than any resource.
Though, apparently, the government’s job ended the moment a nymph emerged from the egg.
No one had stepped in to save him when he was returned to his mother.
Keld hauled himself from the water, the drops falling obediently from his scales.
He didn’t feel like putting on human clothes—night market it was.
He left his first floor apartment and crossed the road to the sea.
His tail rasped against the asphalt, sending a little flare of pain through his malformed tail fin.
The ragged tear was a permanent reminder of his mother’s cruelty.
His mind flashed to the day it happened. A kitchen knife, piercing his fin, nailing it to the floor, the sound of ripping flesh when he pulled himself free—Keld shook the memory away. The Florida sea was warm, even in the dim light of sundown. The days were longer now that April had arrived.
Keld struck out for the night market on the northernmost point of the island. It was one of the places Mer didn’t concern themselves with human discomfort. Miami’s human populace was concentrated on the southeast coast, while northwest catered to the Mer.
The night market stood in the shallows, with vendors and customers alike wading or diving through glowing stalls. Bioluminescent algae painted each structure, adding to the pool of faint, blue glow cast by string lights overhead.
Single Mer hovered around street food areas, perched at submerged tables and eying passersby. Normally, he’d have headed in that direction without question, but today, he had an unpleasant task to accomplish. Perhaps he could reward himself with a pretty Omega on his way home.
As quickly as he could, Keld gathered bags of fish steaks, algae soup packets, fresh kelp, and artificially grown Usoi vegetables. It would be enough to last her the week.
A young male Omega with scales like the sunrise caught his eye and gave his fins a slow, sultry flare. Keld returned the display, then plunged out into deeper water. With any luck, the dawn-scaled Omega would still be there when Keld got back.
The journey to his jiei’s house was not nearly long enough. Keld splashed to the surface in the dank living area of his childhood home. The only light was coming from a television to his left.
“Took you long enough.” Kioas Vihinu sat sprawled on her tattered sea sponge sofa.
A tube sucked water from the central pool and carried it to the sponge, keeping it damp enough for comfort.
As far as Keld knew, his mother only left the sofa when absolutely necessary.
It was the only functioning piece of aquaconductive furniture she had left.
“Nice to see you, too.” Keld climbed from the pool and strode toward the kitchen without bothering to look at his jiei.
He knew what he would see there—cheeks hollower than before, pale yellow scales slowly dulling to gray, and a pallid complexion on her face.
He often wondered if she’d been beautiful once.
“You get everything on the list?” she yelled.
“I got everything you needed on the list,” Keld retorted.
“You’re an ungrateful biyaug, you know that?”
Biyaug. Usoi grub used for baiting traps—his mother’s favorite term of endearment for her only child.
Keld didn’t bother to respond. The water channels between the kitchen tiles still flowed, though blockages of debris caused most of it to spill aimlessly across the floor.
He stored the perishables in the cooling unit, wincing as the fans at the back screeched. His jiei would need a replacement soon.
“I want a steak,” she shouted from the living room.
“Would you please sear a steak for me?” Keld mumbled under his breath. So much for his tentative plans to find the pretty Omega at the market.
He set a battered pan on the stove and twisted the knob to light it. Gas hissed out, but failed to spark into flame.
“Use the matches!”
Keld closed his eyes for a moment. “Your stove is broken?”
“No. You just have to use the matches to light it. Works just fine.” A harsh cough rattled through her chest.
Keld bit back his retort and struck a match.
The moon had risen high in the sky by the time he returned to the sea. Every muscle in his body felt weak and ragged, as if he’d spent the evening performing manual labor rather than simply spending a few hours with his mother. His mind was little more than wisps of cloud—devoid of energy.
He hated that house.
∞∞∞
“Look!” Zasia jammed her phone beneath Keld’s nose.
“What?” He snatched the phone from her and stared down at the photo. It was an email attachment from their boss, Loriun. It showed a pudgy, wrinkled nymph with champagne-colored scales and pale pink fins. The infant’s eyes appeared to be a human brown, though the lids were screwed up in a wail.
“Isn’t he cute?” Zasia rested her chin on the cubicle wall. “He’s a little Alpha.”
Keld shrugged. “Sure. Cute.” He handed the phone back over.
Zasia rolled her eyes, sweeping a twisted braid of dark emerald hair from her shoulder. “Not a kid person, huh?”
Keld grimaced. “Not exactly.”
“I’m sure the Paeil repopulation program is thrilled with you.”
“I’m their favorite.”
Zasia smacked him on the back. “Get up. Lunch break. Let’s go fishing.”
A groan nearly slipped free at the mere thought of relaxing his contracted tail.
Keld followed the female Alpha to the shoreline bordering their office.
Without hesitation, Zasia shucked her blouse and pencil skirt.
Seafoam green scales caught the Miami sun, accented by the bright silver at her fingertips and stomach.
Her fins were a deep green that matched her hair.
Keld could understand why male Omegas threw themselves at her feet. He folded his own clothes and laid them out with Zasia’s, appreciating the stretch in his tail and spine.
“Ah, that’s so much better.” Zasia swept her tail across the sand. “I swear it’s going to atrophy if the office dress code doesn’t change.”
Keld grunted in agreement.
The pair jogged into the shallows and dove headlong into cool water. The liquid rushed over Keld’s disused gills, rehydrating them after long hours in a human office. Zasia flipped herself over in a series of barrel rolls, like an aquatic rotisserie chicken.
Keld chuckled and drove himself deeper, where colder water rested at the bottom. The pressure of the ocean soothed his nerves, allowing tranquility to filter in. The sea bed was one of the only places he truly felt at peace.
“Come on,” Zasia called overhead. “I think I see some grouper.”