Page 72 of Under Gorse and Stone

“I do,” Marin says solemnly. “I had the same reaction when I saw a microwave in the human world.” He tuts thoughtfully. “What geniuses walk amongst you?”

Sigurd’s eyes twinkle. He holds out his hand, and I stride to meet him, moving as smoothly through the water as I would on earth. “There is more to see,” he says, and I fall into step with him as we walk down the sandy slope. “Be careful,” he warns. “We are near the edge here.”

“The edge of what?”

He points ahead, and I gasp. We’re standing on a cliff-like rise above a huge castle made of white stone that gleams in the sea light. Flags bearing an octopus emblem fly on the turrets and battlements.

“It’s like a medieval castle,” I say.

Sigurd nods. “I thought that the first time I visited here. It reminded me of castles I saw built in Bavaria.”

I visit medieval buildings and marvel at how well-preserved they are, and a man who appears to be in his late twenties actually saw them being built. It’s mind-boggling.

“It is home,” Marin says, with an odd tone in his voice.

We head down a steep sandy path towards a pair of closed gates. They’re so tall I can’t see the top of them.

They swing slowly open, and two Mer guards emerge. Their tails are covered in dull green scales that aren’t as pretty as Marin’s, and their expressions are stern. “State your business,” they snap.

Marin moves into vision, and their attitude immediately changes. They straighten, coming to attention and snapping off salutes.

“Be at peace,” Marin says, smiling. “These are my guests. Please send word that they are to be treated with the utmost respect.”

They nod and swim back, allowing us to enter the castle grounds. We find ourselves in a courtyard filled with strange flowers, black and green, their leaves moving in the current. I look back in time to see the gates close with a bang. The sound is ominous, making me shiver. I edge closer to Sigurd, who puts his arm around me. Even here under the sea, he’s warm, and I nestle closer.

“All will be well, Cary,” he whispers. “I shall keep you safe.”

“I know. It’s just that we’re shut in now.”

He nods solemnly. “Have courage, little one.”

“Little?” I say indignantly, and his mouth twitches.

“All humans seem little to me. It is no reflection on your character or courage, which are giant in stature. More your life span.”

“Pretty words.”

He laughs and then sobers as Marin and the guards turn to us.

“The king is in his chambers,” Marin says. “He will see you.”

Sigurd bows. “He does us great honour.”

Marin waves away the guards and moves close. “I would not be too happy, my friend. He is not in the best of moods lately.”

“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself. I know Sigurd said not to talk, but this is his friend, and he’s spoken freely in front of him.

Marin sighs and gestures for us to walk beside him. I notice that the sandy path has changed, and we’re now on a narrower path made of shiny cobbles. It winds ahead of us through watery corridors. As we can no longer travel side by side, Sigurd walks in front of me. He looks back and says, “Stay close. Even one step from the path will have terrible consequences.”

I swallow hard and watch where I’m walking. My feet hit the solid path but make no sound. It’s rather eerie.

Marin carries on speaking. “Melusine’s family have the king’s ear, and they talk of nothing else.”

“Their daughter is missing,” Sigurd says gently.

Marin grimaces. “They talk of retribution when they do not know the crime. That is dangerous. The king is getting old, and he knows it. His back hurts, and their words take root in his pain.” He looks at Sigurd. “You know the mood of the old court. It has long been a balancing act to keep humans safe.”

Sigurd pats his shoulder. “It is an act that you do well, my friend.”