Page 12 of Sea of Evil and Desire (The Deep Saga #1)

10

Morgana

R emains from the shipwreck were scattered far and wide. Bits of rusted metal were poking out here and there, half-submerged in sand. Glowing columns of bioluminescent coral protruded on either side of me, marking the swinging doors as an entrance.

Casting my eyes toward where I was used to seeing the sky, I saw nothing but darkness. A heavy and unyielding silence gripped me.

How deep under the ocean am I?

Stepping back, I surveyed the ship. It was a mottled monster of dark bubbles and slices of corrosion. Mold and seaweed danced in shafts of light from the portholes above.

The bar must have been nestled in the hull, perhaps the second deck from the top in the middle of the ship, but the keel was almost entirely immersed in sand. The portholes began peeping out about a meter above the sand, and more decorated the upper decks.

The Captain had assured me this wasn’t a dream, but to my reality-trained brain, it seemed absolutely mental. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the strange occurrences at Ruadán’s Port—the ocean’s pull, the music, the doctors and psychiatrists who had long names for whatever was “wrong” with me—all had something to do with this.

No. I shook the thoughts away. It was more likely I had succumbed to madness.

I sensed movement behind me and spun around. A forest of gnarled pillars loomed in the darkness, rising from the ocean floor like stalagmites. Plumes of hot water spewed from their peaks, giving the atmosphere around them a dreamlike quality.

The mottled pillars stretched into shadows, and I was surprised by how well I could see. A fish scooted past me to join others nibbling at the heat vents. Perhaps I had aquatic vision like them. Another absurd thought.

Curious, I followed the fish and reached into the glistening plumes. Argh! I snatched my hand back, and it instantly cooled in the crisp water surrounding the rest of my body.

What the hell? This was all too much. I would rather stay close to the Drowned and the Captain than take my chances in the dark forest of heat vents.

I plopped onto the sandy ground in the light of the portholes, pulling an object out from beneath me—an old boot. I chucked it furiously into the murky darkness, and tears pooled in my eyes. They burst out of me in a shaky sob.

How did I end up here?

The tears didn’t feel nearly as satisfying as they did on land, dissolving instantly into the ocean. Sniffing them back, I glared into the gloom. Perhaps it would have been easier if I had drowned.

More tears appeared. This time, they felt angry—hot and furious like the steam from the hydrothermal vents dancing in front of me.

“I wept upon my arrival here also.” The voice startled me.

A man around my age was standing over me, clad in a maroon porter’s uniform with a white collar and matching cap. His bent name badge still read “Edward,” and his bright orange hair contrasted against the green backdrop.

“Why would you cry? You’re dead. You can’t feel anything.” I knew the words were heartless as soon as they tumbled from my mouth, but it was too late.

The man called Edward winced but didn’t turn away. “The Drowned can still feel pain. We are souls, after all. Think of us like . . . vampires, but under the ocean. It’s quite peculiar, really.” He sat beside me, his red trousers hitching above his ankles. Barnacles clung to his leather boots, and the skin above his socks had begun to decay.

I thought of the naval officer I’d just seen stabbed in the bar, his face twisted in unmistakable agony.

“Was it hard to come to terms with your death?” I asked, making patterns in the sand with my webbed hands. Ugh, my webbed hands! A part of me still couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. If I didn’t look at the Drowned man beside me, he might disappear, and the real world would materialize.

“Indeed it was. Yet, it’s a mercy to have one’s soul intact. The fate of those Drowned whose souls have known too much evil is not as pleasant.” Edward sighed.

“What do you mean, like Hell?” I stopped trailing my fingers and gave him my full attention.

“Not exactly. They become gems in the Garden of Mortimer. They are tortured inside but shine so clearly on the outside that their beauty can be seen through the waves. They have been the cause of many sailors’ untimely deaths. They leap from boats to reach them, but instead find themselves a place in the garden.” There was pain and fear in Edward’s voice.

“What’s the point of dying if you can still feel? If Mortimer is like Hell, what’s this supposed to be—Heaven?” I scoffed, kicking the remains of the old boot further away.

“I do not think we are completely dead; as I said, we are souls. We can still feel pain and love, yet our hearts do not beat. I do not understand the intricacies of death. Does anyone? But I suspect we are here to pay our debts to the spirit of Manannán, God of the Drowned—Davy Jones, as some know him. He is a God of many names.” Edward let out a weary breath. “Eventually, the wicked souls of murderers and rapists end up in Mortimer. Still, if the average Drowned sinner dies down here and has fulfilled their debt, we can pass on.” He stared at the shimmering stalagmite forest.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I muttered as a tiny glowing squid propelled through the water before us.

“I’ve seen pirates tear each other apart with knives and then laugh about it afterward.” Edward rubbed the side of his face, and I thought of the scene I had just witnessed. “But occasionally, a skirmish unfolds, and something most peculiar occurs when a fellow gets stabbed. Their body seizes, sighs in relief, and disintegrates into the surroundings.” He looked at me earnestly, then shuddered. “A few times, I have seen them shrivel and shriek, disappearing to what I can only imagine is the Mortimer Garden.”

“So, you’re saying if I were to grab this piece of rusted metal,” I said, gesturing to a twisted beam lying half-covered in the sand at our feet, “and shove it through your heart, one of three things could happen. You might dissolve into peace, or you might wither in pain and end up in this ‘garden,’ or the most likely scenario is that nothing would happen, and we would laugh about it afterward?”

“That’s about the size of it.” He chuckled. His full lips and freckles made his face look pleasant.

“Man, that’s confusing. This God of the Drowned sure wants to keep you all on your toes.” I shook my head in wonder. Everything seemed unbelievable, and this tale of the souls sounded exactly like something from the pages of myths and legends. I stared into the gloomy darkness and wondered what my mother, the accountant, would think about all this.

“You’ll get used to it.” Edward patted me on the back uncomfortably. “Plus, every time there are a lot of new souls, we Mourn together, which makes it easier.”

“Mourn?” I sniffed.

“Last night’s storm saw a cruise ship turn sideways onto some rocks. Some fifteen souls have now joined us. Even though you’re not dead, the Captain asked me to take you along for the Mourning. It might aid acceptance.”

Did I really want to “Mourn,” or whatever it was, with the dead residents of Davy Jones’s Tavern? The thought seemed so absurd I nearly laughed out loud. But perhaps it would help me discover why I was here. Or better still, wake me up.

“Is this where all Drowned people go?”

“Good heavens, no! We wouldn’t fit. There are ships like this all over the world.”

“And where exactly are we?”

“Deep in the North Atlantic, far off the coast of Scotland and Ireland, past the Outer Hebrides, where the ocean swallows all land.”

Holy shit. I pushed down the anxiety that had clutched at my chest.

“You’re from England?” I asked, finding solace in Edward’s recognizable accent.

He nodded, gesturing to his uniform. “I was sailing from Liverpool to New York City via Belfast, working aboard a passenger liner when it went down.”

The Drowned began emerging from the bar, and I instinctively pressed closer to Edward.

“The Mourning will make accepting this place easier,” Edward said again, quietly. “I was never particularly close to my parents. It is my lover I miss most dearly. Have you a lover?”

I thought about Finn. Even though he was practically a stranger to me, there was something about him—a familiarity like I’d known him in a past life. I knew I would miss him for the rest of my days if I never saw him again.

Edward must have seen something in my expression, because he said, “Come, it is time. Maybe you will see them when you Mourn.” He stood up and reached for my hand.

There was a gash in the material across his stomach. I wondered if it was from the cut that killed him or if it had been the water. Probably both.

My mouth fell open as light radiated through Edward’s body. I tried to pull my hand free, but he held on tight. Around us, the other Drowned were glowing in the same way, but it wasn’t their bodies. The light came from luminous orbs they held against their chests.

“Come, child,” said the Captain, clutching his ball of light. “It’s time for you to remember and Mourn. As we rise to the surface, we will serenade those lost on the ship and give them a chance to say goodbye.”

My breath hitched as a glowing sphere appeared in my own hands. Had the Captain said we were rising to the surface? This could be my chance to escape!

“Don’t let go of my hand. You’re only a visitor to the world of the Drowned, and I don’t know what would happen if you tried to Mourn on your own,” Edward warned as though he’d read my thoughts. “Raise it skyward.” He lifted his ball of light.

The Drowned were no longer jostling or squabbling—they were focused on the little shining orbs dancing in their hands. Their eyes filled with something that looked like love.

I lifted my shimmering ball, awe washing over me as the bodies around me rose from the sandy seabed. Edward and I ascended together, carried by an unseen force.

We rose higher and higher. I gasped as the Drowned turned translucent, their forms fading into the water. Glancing at my hands, I saw nothing but the murky green of the ocean and the faint glow of the light guiding us. A chill ran through me. Had I become transparent, too?

A soft, plaintive wailing commenced, growing louder and louder. We were moving fast, and the sound was suffocating. Was I going to faint? Or would my head explode first?

The night sky unfolded above me as I broke the water’s surface, and my headache eased as the howling was swallowed by the crashing waves and roaring wind. Twinkling stars stretched across the heavens. Had I been here for a full day already?

I saw nothing of my body when I looked down, only the crashing black seas below. The light that had appeared in my palms still floated beside me, guiding the way.

The sensation of Edward’s cold hand clutching mine remained, but he and the other Drowned were invisible, their tiny lights twinkling like phosphorescence. Their lamenting engulfed me, and the glow dancing in front of me plucked at my heartstrings, willing me to remember. I saw my grandmother smiling at me, her thick black hair veined with gray. She faded into my mother sitting at her desk, poring over work documents. I felt compelled to call out to them.

“Mother,” I tried to scream, “goodbye!”

The words formed in my mind, but they emerged as an eerie wail when they left my lips. I succumbed to the ocean’s demands, crying out alongside the Drowned as I remembered my loved ones. My grandfather in his armchair, alone in the living room . . . Then, Finn appeared, his dark hair falling in arrows across his eyes. Would I ever see him again?

My little light danced in my free hand as I floated above the waves. I wept for all I was leaving and all I had lost. Around me, the Drowned did the same. Together, we filled the night sky with a beautiful, eerie sound as our many lights glittered on the surface.

It was over all too soon. The glow began to fade, and I was sinking back down. The hypnotic trance broke as the cool water touched the space where my waist should have been. I was still transparent. Would my body return if I stayed above the waves like this?

My thoughts turned back to my grandfather as my face slipped beneath the swell. Without me, he’d be left alone with only his broken heart for company. Our words may have been few, but he needed me. I had to try.

Taking a deep breath, I loosened my grip on Edward’s hand. He wouldn’t let go. I struggled against him, kicking at the water beside me where his body should have been. He flinched, but he didn’t release his grip.

“Let go of me!” I hissed, a gargle of bubbles filling the space before me.

I kicked out again, but he held me tight. My feet met soft sand, and I knew we had sunk back down to the ship. The bodies of the other Drowned materialized around me, their lights fading into nothingness. Grunts and shoves erupted as they resumed their frantic scuffling, heading for the coral pillars marking the bar’s entrance.

“I told you not to let go of my hand! Who knows what could have happened? You had no physical body. You could have just disappeared.” Edward rounded on me, his blue eyes narrowing.

“I was trying to get home! You should have let me try.” Tears burned my throat.

“I don’t believe it would have worked. I brought you up to Mourn with the Drowned, yet you are among the living! Mourning is the only time we are permitted to rise above the waves, and the Captain told me never to let go of you, no matter the cost.” His eyes filled with sympathy. I could tell he knew what it was like to yearn for a place up there.

“I can’t go back home looking like this anyway.” I sighed, remembering that I was now covered in fur and had webbed feet. “But perhaps you can help me find a way to transform back.”

Edward nodded, but his eyes were sad.

“Do you Mourn after every shipwreck?” I raised my brows.

Through the glowing porthole, I saw the Captain behind the bar, handing out rum. A teenage girl caught my eye as she led a younger boy inside, his small hand clasped in hers. Their familiar faces struck a chord. Then it hit me—I’d seen them on the news. They were the kids who’d been swept from Merrow Rocks. A small smile tugged at my lips. Somehow, it was comforting to think they’d found this afterlife together.

“We Mourn after accumulating a collective of new members. It allows them to say goodbye and accept this new existence. Did it work for you?”

Edward and I were now the only ones still outside. The forest of mottled pillars continued to spout heated streams behind us. I did feel lighter. I drew in a deep breath of water and let it flow out. If my grandfather could handle himself at sea, he would be alright without me for now. As for Finn, well, he was engaged .

“I guess it did.” I shrugged as a school of silvery fish scooted past. They moved like a disoriented cloud that couldn’t decide which direction to float in. My stomach lurched. How long had it been since I’d eaten? I swallowed as the fish darted back and forth, their scales glimmering tantalizingly in the light from the ship’s portholes. My stomach growled—I desired them.

What has become of me?

A large pale fish left the group to nibble at a sludge patch on the sand, and I pounced. Before I knew what I was doing, I was holding the wriggling creature in my newly webbed fingers. Flesh melted in my mouth, and bones crunched between my teeth, but it tasted surprisingly good.

Did I really just demolish a raw fish?

I looked around guiltily for another as I let its skeleton fall, but the rest of them had vanished.

“I have been here a long time, and that was the most absolutely revolting thing I have ever seen!” Edward sniggered.