Page 19

Perils Beneath

My lungs were burning. On and on I was dragged.

“ It’s drowning ,” a harsh voice said. I could see nothing. My vision darkened.

“It’s only a mortal girl,” said a second voice. “Let it drown.”

“It’s marked,” said the first voice. “The queen’s mark. Best not let it drown just yet.”

“Very well,” growled the second voice, and my head was yanked back.

Something cold pressed against my mouth, and a rush of icy air filled my lungs, driving away the burning, and clearing the stars in my vision. I exhaled, flooded with relief to realise I could breathe again, though my mind struggled to grasp how I could be breathing while water flowed over my face.

Something cold now pressed upon my eyes. I opened them, and shuddered.

Black eyes, devoid of compassion, regarded me. I stared back, noting the translucent skin, the long, snaking hair, the suggestion of a womanly form, until the place where legs ought to be showed the scales of a fish.

What had I read of mermaids? One thing I remembered—they feasted on the souls of men.

“Where are my—?” I caught myself just in time. I must not refer to Jack and Jory as companions. “Where are my servants?” I demanded, stifling my fear for the brothers’ fate.

The mermaids regarded me with their cold, black eyes. I forced myself to glare back at them and not betray the revulsion I felt at their razor-sharp teeth, like monstrous pikes, their bloodless lips, and the two dark cavities where a nose ought to be.

“Release my servants, and do not hinder a Daughter of the Rose,” I said, striving to sound haughty, though my voice sounded strange underwater.

Their eyes strayed to my rose wreaths, and I forgave Jack for jamming them so tightly onto my head. They regarded me for long, cold moments, and I steeled myself to meet their icy stares and not look away.

“Shall we take it to Merharion?” said one mermaid.

“It is of no use to us. Let us take it,” agreed the other, and I was grasped by the arms and propelled through the water again.

At first glance the cavern of pearly walls held a vast shoal of enormous fish, gliding and twisting in ever-moving patterns. It was no shoal of fish, but a circling court of mermaids that parted to make a passage for me and my captors. I felt countless black eyes watching me pass by.

The queen of the underwater kingdom held a tall sceptre of narwhal tusk. I made a bow as best I could whilst treading water to keep from sinking, for the water was deep. I could swim and stay upright with ease now that I held the breath of a mermaid in my lungs.

“What is this?” said the mermaid queen, indicating with a lift of her sceptre that I was to be brought nearer.

“Another mortal, Merharion,” said one of my captors, yanking me forward. “Only a girl.”

“It says the others are its servants,” said my other captor. “It has a mark on it.” She pointed to my forehead. “It says it is a Rose Daughter.”

“Did the south queen send you?” demanded Merharion.

I took a risk, for I did not know what the relations were between this mer ruler and the above-ground queen. I gambled on the likelihood that this Merharion was among the subjects of the queen.

“I am under the protection of Her Highness,” I declared. “As are my servants,” here I glanced about, anxious to see the brothers. “She bids all her subjects to aid us in our quest to recover the Daughter of the Red Rose, who is held captive in the house of Amara.”

There was a hissing and a gnashing of teeth at my words, and I quailed inwardly, for I did not know if they were hissing disdain for the faerie queen or at the name of Amara.

“How shall you recover this Red Rose Daughter?” said Merharion, looking me up and down. “Have you magic stronger than a sorceress who has strengthened herself by dark ways?”

“I will restore the Red Rose Daughter her crown, and we shall make our escape. ”

There was a ripple of cold mirth from the circle of the court.

“I perceive you are as unwise as all other mortals,” said Merharion. “Your crown only protects you while you are in the kingdom of the queen. That Amara”—she hissed the name as though it were abhorrent to speak it—“has declared her island her own kingdom and gives no allegiance to the queen.”

“Then she is a traitor,” I replied, “and must be made to acknowledge the authority of the queen.”

Another ripple of icy laughter.

“Will you help me?” I said boldly.

“Why should I? If I let you go your way, I have fulfilled my allegiance. But you will perish, just as all who attempt to traverse the island moat.”

“If the Rose Daughter is not recovered, she shall be wed to the dwarf lord, and he will take the throne of the Westshires of Albion. The border will lie unprotected. Greedy men shall pass into Faerie, seeking its treasures and usurping kingdoms. Even underwater kingdoms shall not be safe once man and dwarf conspire together in craft and new weaponry, and in mingling their races.”

“Who is this Red Rose Daughter that she should give the dwarf lord the right to rule in mortal lands?”

“She is the lost daughter of our king, and the last living heir to the throne.”

Merharion’s hair was a glittering grey, its tendrils like countless eels swaying in the current. When she tilted her head, as she did now, her hair rippled and shimmered.

“I fear no mortal men,” said Merharion, showing her pointed teeth.

“But if the border were no more,” I argued, “they would come in their boats with great nets and hooks. You would be confined to your hidden caves. You would not have the liberty of the waters as you do now.”

All the while I stood before the merqueen, I continued glancing about for any sign of Jack and Jory, my concern for them rising.

“What do you want, Rose Daughter?” said the merqueen, flicking her head again so that it seemed as if a swarm of eels were about to engulf me.

“Give me my servants, and tell me how to get onto the island.”

“That is two requests.”

“The second is a request for your assistance. The first is my right to what is mine.”

The merqueen was before me in a flash, her teeth snapping in my face as she said, “What trespasses in my domain is mine .”

The mermaids hissed, echoing their queen’s displeasure.

“I did not consider it a trespass to seek the aid of one loyal to the queen, Your Highness,” I said, quelling the urge to draw back from the row of knife-like teeth so close to my face. “If it were a small matter, I would not have troubled you. But this is a matter that threatens us all.”

“You speak as smoothly as a sea serpent, mortal girl,” said the merqueen.

I was not sure if that was a compliment or otherwise, but she withdrew from me, and my heart ceased hammering in my chest.

“Bring them!” ordered Merharion. There was a confusion of figures and flashing scales, and two dark-haired heads appeared out of the crowd .

I feigned coolness towards my ‘servants’, when in truth, I was flooded with relief to see them alive.

“They will not wish to leave us,” said the mermaid, holding onto Jory’s sleeve.

She wore the glamour of a beautiful maiden, her straggling seaweed hair now silky smooth, her face adorned with soft lips, a perfect nose, and black eyes that appeared green and lash-rimmed.

Only her razor-sharp teeth remained beneath the coral-red lips. Jory gazed at her, entranced.

“You do not wish to leave, do you?” crooned the mermaid. She sang a strange, high melody without parting her lips wide enough for her teeth to be seen.

“Never,” said Jory, his eyes aflame with longing.

Jack fared no better. His captor hummed a tune to him, and he grinned inanely, mesmerised.

“Shall you leave me?” said his siren.

“Never,” breathed Jack. “I shall marry you and stay here forever.”

The mermaid laughed. I heard the cold edge to the laugh beneath the silvery ripple of the glamour, but Jack grinned slavishly.

“Release them,” ordered Merharion.

The two mermaids obeyed, dropping their glamours. The brothers’ expressions turned to horror.

“ What a pity ,” hissed Jack’s paramour, showing all her teeth. The mermaids laughed. The brothers were shoved towards me, and I snatched them to my side, saying, “How quick you are to transfer your allegiance!”

They were too shaken to answer, and I felt pity for Jack as he shivered beside me, but I could not show compassion in the company of these cold-blooded fae. They would despise me for it.

There was a golden glow, which shone very yellow among the cold colours of the merqueen’s cavern, and I was glad to see my bag with the faerie lantern still shining from the strap.

“A royal lamp,” remarked Merharion as the bag was thrust at me. She averted her eyes as though the light was unpleasant to her. “Give them tails,” she ordered, and three mermaid tails, like garments made of fish scales, were given to each of us.

Jack recoiled and would not touch it.

“Swim to the island with your ugly mortal legs if you choose,” hissed the mermaid who brought the tails, “but the draig shall bite them off.” She twined around his legs and snapped her teeth.

Jory hastened to pull his tail over his legs, but Jack was not so easily persuaded. “Is there no other way?” he said, eyeing the scales with fear. “Don’t want to be left a merman,” he confided to me, glancing nervously at the mermaid whose glamour he had fallen for.

“You had best put it on,” I replied, tugging the tail up over my legs and trying not to show my alarm at the odd sensation of feeling my lower body tingling with cold magic.

“Could I not put on a turtle shell or something?” begged Jack.

“Let him,” said a mermaid. “The draig is partial to turtle.”

More laughter.

“Put it on, Jacko,” urged Jory, “and let’s get out of here. So, whose was this?” said Jory as he flicked out his tail. “Where are all the mermen?”

“Keeping out of our way,” said a mermaid with a horrible smile. “Would you like to stay and be our merman?” She began to manifest her glamour .

“No, he does not,” I said, grabbing hold of his arm.