A Fish Out of Water, page 4
“But you pointed it out to me, remember?”
“Ariel, please. Really, you broke the edict and now you’ve been caught. Don’t blame it on others.”
Laveena smiled that evil, feral smile of hers and only then did Ariel realize what was happening. “You tricked me!”
Caliba was looking at Ariel in horror. “She’s going to tell!”
Ariel swung around to Erica. “She put you up to it!” She’d been drunk on pheromones not to have sensed it before it was too late.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Erica said softly. “Can’t we just go somewhere and be alone? I want to be with you. Your mouth felt wonderful. I want to touch you again. Ariel…”
“Oh no!” Morova had appeared, rapidly pulling clothes over her nude body. “She’s infected. Ariel, how could you?”
Ariel, pulsating with fear and anger, turned deliberately to Laveena. “Tell them the truth. You saw the rose too.”
“Even she says she never wore a rose. After your little show tonight, you really are full of yourself, aren’t you? Beautiful Ariel, she never gets caught. You might be able to block Kareel from hearing my voice, but you won’t stop me from telling what I’ve seen!” Laveena twirled to the door and in a moment was gone.
“She did this,” Ariel said desperately. “Morova, you have to believe me.”
Morova slowly shook her head. “I want to, Ariel. I believe you thought you saw a rose. She says she never wore one.”
Primia, hair disheveled and not yet bothering to get dressed, looked Erica up and down. “I hope she was worth it.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Erica said. “I just know I want to be with you again. Can’t we be together again? No one has ever been like you. I want you.”
A profound sense of horror settled like bottom sand in the pit of Ariel’s stomach. Erica was a lesbian. Erica was infected with mermadness. Ariel had infected her. It’s not fair! She’d had no way of knowing Erica could be infected.
But, a small voice reminded her, you suspected she wasn’t merely curious.
Erica would not just sing of Ariel’s passion, she would refuse the love of any other, eventually refuse all comfort, food. She would refuse life. For centuries the occasional human woman became fatally infected by her need for mertouch, but it had seemed pure chance and extremely rare. It was only several decades ago, with so many of human women experiencing their innate lesbian sexuality, that mer healers had realized the fatal infections happened only to the lesbians.
What have I done?
Caliba seized Ariel’s hand and dragged her through the club, where dancers wearing fewer and fewer clothes were pairing off. Ariel saw only a barrage of bare shoulders and breasts. Roses were on the floor, petals crushed. One of them had to be the one she’d seen on Erica’s jacket, but how could she ever prove it? And what did it matter? She’d infected a lesbian and Laveena knew about it.
It’s not fair, she thought again.
The smell of roses and alcohol was both overwhelming and nauseating.
They were out on the street before Ariel pulled away from Caliba. “I have to at least tell her!”
Ariel, why are you going? I need you, need to love you… Ariel…
Erica’s song was growing stronger as the hunger to hear, touch, feel more of Ariel spread in her body. It was hard to think. Erica would never stop, her last breath would be for Ariel. Some mer had become addicted to fervent, obsessive, endless power of lesbian song, and had used it to attire their egos the way a glamour spell could attire the body. Ariel could feel the thick, heady swelling of her senses as the pure longing in Erica’s inner song grew. She’d understood the edict after the wave of lesbian deaths years ago. Now, finally, Ariel didn’t just understand it—she felt it. Erica was already suffering.
Ariel knew she was in danger of liking Erica’s pain. Her own response nauseated her.
I must find you, have you…don’t go…Ariel…bound forever…stay…find you…find…
Caliba continued to drag Ariel down the street.
Find you, touch you…
“I have to go back to her!”
“You can’t!” Caliba swung around to Ariel, her face contorted with misery. “I’ll try to hide you, but—“
A crash overhead made them both clap their hands to their ears. Primia and Morova, who had been following, both screamed. The sky above them opened and rain poured down so thick that the humans around them cried out and ran for cover. The street emptied within seconds, leaving the four of them to stare up into the sky.
Ariel blinked into the downpour to adjust to water vision. She heard thunder, but when her vision cleared she knew she was wrong. Not thunder, but the beat of manta rays surfing their rain to find their quarry. Ariel fought back her terror while hope died inside her. There was no hiding from the Queen’s Riders. Her mother already knew what Ariel had done.
Touch you…Ariel, please…where are you? I need you, ache for you…
The waterfall of rain washed over Ariel, pounding the breath from her body as the riders swept over her.
Ariel…
Ariel…
Part II
The Abyss
There was no point in opening her eyes. There was no light. Even the soothing phosphorescence of the sea had been blacked out.
Ariel rolled onto her side, adding her own whimper to the echoes that dripped from the grotto walls.
No point in reaching out her hand to test if today the water she heard, gently lapping against a surface she could not see, was within reach. No point to pulling at her chains, speaking her magic or searching for a more comfortable place to rest among the gritty, fetid stones.
She could almost slip into her own mind, visit a memory or dream, a fantasy, even a nightmare, but when she paid less attention to the echoes they would become so loud she could not hear her own blood in her veins.
The only way to survive the torture was not to fight it. She let the stones hurt her skin and what was left of her muscles. Thirst tore at her throat. The chains weighed on her arms to the edge of blissful numbness, but never quite all the way there.
The perpetual darkness had even become an ally of a kind. With no light she could not tell the passage of time. She could easily persuade her mind that any moment could bring deliverance.
Sometimes she forgot why she was there. The echoes would eventually remind her she’d hurt someone. She heard someone crying for her but couldn’t remember who.
When ignorance became nearly complete, the echoes gave back memory.
Erica’s hand on her body, Erica’s wet, hot flesh in her mouth, Erica’s precise understanding of how Ariel needed to be taken, Erica’s gentleness, forcefulness, the feel of Erica’s hand inside her, the wonder in Erica’s voice as Ariel came for her again—it all flowed over her, every moment of it.
When those memories almost became a pleasure, the echoes took them away and she heard only the crying, pleading voice of Erica’s suffering.
When she blissfully forgot why she suffered, she heard Laveena’s accusing voice and her powerful aunt’s accusations. There was no light for her eyes, but her mind replayed her brief trial in vivid detail, including the queen’s revulsion that one of her own daughters would not only defy her edict, but actually prefer human sex to mer.
Sometimes she could convince herself it wasn’t true, she didn’t prefer human women. Then the echoes would parade the long line of all the women who sang for her, ending with Erica and her amazing hands. Just as those memories threatened to be pleasurable, the echoes presented visions of Erica wasting to a shell. Erica was only human, but it hurt to see her like that.
Ariel didn’t want to know.
She would remember ocean, sometimes, and the echoes gave her desert.
Moonlight under water at midnight—she could nearly hold the image in her mind. Then the echoes gave her the crushing pressure of the abyss.
When her soul welcomed the abyss and tried to embrace it forever, the echoes gave her songs of her past lovers, still singing for her.
When she wanted to die, the echoes gave her reasons to live.
When she wanted to live, the echoes brought beautiful dreams of oblivion.
* * *
The rocks were moving. This was different, but Ariel tried not to feel anything about it. If she liked it the echoes would take the difference away. If she hated it, the echoes would give her more.
Then the floor moved like the surf, rumbling and groaning. The rocks were trembling. Ariel could hear the water swirling, but there was no light.
Something touched her feet and she screamed and tried to jump away from it, but the chains held her and then she realized…
Fell to her knees…water…water…water rushing over her feet, over her legs. She brought the salt of the sea to her face, her hair, water on her body. She was mer again. She drank from her cupped hands and felt the healing power of the sea mother inside her.
The rocks were no longer moving under her, but there was a terrible grinding above her. The water she knelt in receded. She crawled desperately after it only to find herself in over her head as a large wave knocked her down. She swallowed water and felt her mer lungs pull air from it. If there were no chains she could swim. Swim…feel the sea mother and all her children around her. She could truly be mer again.
Then she was swimming, the chains heavy but free of their moorings. She plunged downward and felt the percussion of rocks on the surface of the grotto’s pool, and she kept swimming down into the cold embrace of the depths.
Or at least she thought, until her eyes began to trick her, flinching from what was to her left. She closed them tightly and followed the shifting black. Black…then indigo behind her eyes. Indigo mutated to a color she had no name for.
In the growing light that made her eyes hurt she saw the bubbles of her breath in the water. Only then did she know which way was up.
The chains fought her, but she swam up, toward that color. Her arms and legs screamed as she rose toward the color of something beautiful. Her wasted skin flapped in the water, slowing her down.
Up, she thought, even as her arms refused to stroke any more. Her legs ceased their pumping and the chains began to win.
She cried out as the color faded. The echoes played their tricks, made her want the color, and now they took it away. Her destruction was complete. She would die slowly in the crushing cold of the abyss. What had she done to deserve this fate? She couldn’t remember. Something bad. Something evil. Had it been her fault? But what?
And then the sea under her changed. She felt warmth passing under her feet. She knew that feeling, knew it from long ago, from when she had been someone else. Little Ariel had known what to do: reach down, grab hold and hang on.
Orca, brother orca, exhaled warmly again as Ariel found a barnacle she could grasp. Brother orca needed to breathe, would go up to breathe. The color, that beautiful color, was getting closer.
The sea thinned, shimmered and her eyes wanted to close from the pain of the color. Her head broke the plane of the water and she smelled fresh, salty air and saw the smile of the sky mother over her. The color…silver moon, silver light. Silver for freedom. Silver for insanity. She laughed into the surf and clung to brother orca, who listened to her mad story and agreed to take her toward land.
* * *
She rolled onto a beach, exhausted. The chains would not come off and she had no strength to swim against their weight.
She knew a day had passed because the sun rose. She had screamed as the yellow of it stabbed into her weak eyes, but the tiny island gave no shelter. The sun set and she wept for glory of the sky mother’s returned smile. Silver again.
She was still weeping when the Queen’s Riders found her. They carried her into the sea again, down to the deep lands of the mer. She did not know if they returned her to her prison or to an even worse fate.
Chapter 8
“This is what an example looks like.” Ariel shrugged as she turned back to the mirror.
Even Caliba, who loved her, could not hide her shock at Ariel’s appearance. But she smiled bravely. “It will all heal.”
Ariel nodded, but so far felt no real conviction. She’d soaked for hours in the bathing pool, ever since the Riders had unceremoniously dumped her in the guest chamber in her mother’s hall. She still felt dirty and rough. The undertone of her skin was sallow, like a moon behind smoky haze. Her flame red hair was extinguished to the shade of an ancient lobster boiled a thousand years ago. “I’ve had better centuries.”
“I know you have, Ari. You’ve been through hell.”
“Hell is a picnic compared to the queen’s grotto.” Ariel stared at her dull hair, sagging skin, even the scars criss-crossing her body from the stones she’d slept on. It would all heal, eventually. But she could not look at her eyes, which refused to stop watering in the low light. Not yet. She had seen the glances the guards had exchanged. She did not want to know how deeply she might have changed.
“No one will tell me anything, Caliba. What are they going to do with me? I didn’t leave that place on purpose, but here I am.”
“I don’t think anyone knows what to do. An earthquake set you free. To put you back would defy the sea mother, maybe. They really don’t know. I’m afraid the queen will think of something else.”
Ariel could only nod. She was afraid of her mother’s inventiveness, especially when she was in a bad mood. She let the small silence extend, still reveling in the simplicity of quiet. Finally, she asked the question she most wanted answered. “How long was I away?”
The next silence was unexpected, so she turned from her reflection to gaze directly at Caliba.
Caliba would not look at her. She was unchanged, but then Caliba had several more centuries before anything would alter in her body. She bore three more rings along the rim of her left ear—signs of increasing status— but otherwise, Caliba was as Caliba had always been.
“Fifty years?” Even to mer fifty years was a long time. “I survived long enough for it to have been enough punishment, didn’t I? “Forty?”
Caliba shook her head.
Ariel’s voice broke. “Twenty-five? Please tell me.” She spun to the mirror again, surveying the damage to her body, her hands. She would heal, wouldn’t she? She was a wreck, certainly, but twenty years of torture explained it. Her hands were claws.
Without meaning to she looked into her eyes.
Silver eyes, the pale color of the sky mother.
They had been deep blue, the mark of the queen’s line. Their radiant color, so admired, was not a false memory left by the echoes. Now she was Silver Eye, a name of respect for the old, but one of madness for the young. She had been young. Fifteen years? All her youth gone in such a short time? How could it have been only fifteen years?
She had lost her eyes of her youth forever. “Look at me,” she said to Caliba’s reflection.
“I can’t.”
“Am I so terrible?”
“One, Ariel.”
“What?” Ariel momentarily went numb. “One what?”
“One year,” Caliba said miserably. “The earthquake happened at midnight on the first new year since you were sent away. That’s why everyone is nervous about it. It could be a sign.”
Ariel lost herself in the silver of her eyes, shaking in tears, mourning her beauty. She was a shadow, a wraith, after only a year? Her life would span millennia. A year was nothing, and she was destroyed.
“They’re coming for you.”
“I can’t go back! I can’t!” Ariel covered her ears, hearing the echoes. They’d given her freedom just to take it away. If she went back she would be utterly mad. She would rather go to the abyss where at least she knew the suffering would eventually end. Death was better. She could not go back.
The chamber door burst open and the humorless guards swept in. They drug her sobbing to her audience with the queen, dumping her unceremoniously onto the floor.
Ariel scrambled on her hands and knees up the dais steps, and flung herself at her mother’s feet. “Mercy, please, mercy. I never meant to do it, I will do anything, don’t send me back, please.”
Hands pulled her roughly away, but Ariel begged, with all her soul, even at the price of her soul. “I have nothing left, I can’t go back, Mother, please, mercy—“
“Enough.” Queen Vellia drew back and Ariel realized it had been a mistake to remind her that they shared blood. Even a seventy-seventh daughter had to obey a higher standard, or at least be skilled in not getting caught if she decided to break a rule.
Ariel managed to stop her flow of words, but her whimpers of fear and distress were beyond her control. The echoes washed through her mind. Show what you want, they said, and it will be taken away. She focused completely on the queen’s austere expression.
A voice said coolly, “The sea mother delivered the prisoner and we risk destruction if we go against her.”
Ariel found the speaker—Barwen, her eldest sister, who had centuries ago become an acolyte to the sea mother. Barwen’s deep blue eyes, the shade Ariel’s used to be, were filled with horror as she gazed at Ariel.
Behind Ariel another voice spoke. The hatred in it was so plain Ariel knew it was Laveena even before she turned to face her. “But her punishment is not complete.”
“Look at her! She is example enough.” Ariel could have cried for the strength—and the bitter truth—in Caliba’s voice. Caliba had ever been better than any sister.
“Not enough! She must pay for what she did!” Laveena’s eyes glowed like algae. “The lesbian will die because Ariel wanted human sex and didn’t care how she got it. It’s depraved!”
Ariel turned from voice to voice and the memory of her first trial washed over her. Voices twisting her in circles, accusing, never listening. The echoes gave her freedom just to take it away.
“You saw the rose, Laveena! I know you did. I never meant to hurt anyone.” Ariel didn’t have the anger to speak with conviction. She just said it, weak and afraid.
