Chimes from a Deeper Sea (2 page)

"I don't care
for it cooked." He gave me that odd smile of his, friendly and
cheerful, but with an odd glint to it that filled me with a strange
foreboding. "Give me land food. I'll be happy enough."

"I like fish."
Perhaps there was a touch of petulance in my tone. Our first
argument! Now we really were a married couple. "Will you not bring
me any? I shall be ashamed in front of your sisters."

"Are you
unhappy with anything I bring?" Still that smile, and the pleasant
tone, and my own unshakeable fear that something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.

"No, not at
all."

"Well,
then."

So I let it be,
and did not argue with him again. Over that, or anything else.
Because I'd had the most dreadful feeling, just for a moment, that
monsters were rising up from the deep.

But I took to
watching him. Early in the morning - he was up before anyone else.
And late at night, also, when he thought I was asleep.

Sometimes he
would steal away by himself. For the most obvious need, I thought
at first. But something about the way he moved puzzled me. He slid,
almost: glided across the sand with the smooth ripple of a snake.
I'd seen that movement before, somewhere else, but I couldn't think
where. And always it gave me the same feeling, of darkness and
chill and sharp teeth waiting somewhere far below.

"Where do you
go?" I asked him once. "At night, when everyone's sleeping. I wake
up and you're not here."

He looked
utterly surprised. "Nowhere. Maybe you dreamt it." And he was
careful, after that, to touch me or speak to me before he left. I
feigned sleep, I'd learned to do it well when Mother wanted me for
chores. The first few nights he stayed with me regardless, but
after that he sneaked away as before.

So I followed
him. A shameful betrayal of the trust a wife should have for her
husband, but I could not sleep for fretting. There were pretty
girls here, too - prettier than Tuni, even - and I had never been
noted for my beauty. As yet I had not dared to ask him why he
picked me.

Which is why I
slipped out into the night, and trailed my husband as he eased his
way along. Out of the village - not towards the boats, and not into
any of the houses. Relief gushed through me, so strong that I
faltered in my steps. Perhaps he had a secret errand no one should
know about, lest it put everyone in danger.

I could still
go back. Hide in our house, and never tell him of my doubts, and
never permit myself to indulge them again.

But I didn't.
Curiosity proved too strong. I followed him as he cut across the
reef wall that sheltered the village from storms, slithered after
him through dank undergrowth that clung to my feet. Held my breath
and melted into the shadows, every time he paused. I could barely
see him, a mere hint of a shape; it was movement alone that
betrayed him. But he didn't hurry, he seemed to have all night.

Finally he
ducked down into a little cove, set into the mountainside where
jungle spilled out towards the sea. I'd explored there with the
hostages, it was the only place on the island that looked directly
towards our home. So they'd told me, and I believed them.

Perin slid out
onto the sand. He paused for a moment and glanced back towards me.
I stilled against the undergrowth, held my breath, and prayed.
Because if he caught me he'd kill me, I was sure of it, though I
couldn't guess why.

Satisfied, or
at least not disturbed by my presence there, he turned towards the
ocean and waded out into the water. Long lazy strides, signalled by
ripples that glistened with moonlight. Further, and deeper, until I
began to fear for his safety and not my own.

"Come in," he
called - very softly, the way he'd spoken to me in our own bed.
This time I didn't move, and didn't answer.

He swam back
towards me - those slow gliding movements again, and I knew now
where I had seen them before. From the cliff at the edge of my home
village, where I'd sat and watched sharks gather and circle below.
I never found out what they came for, and where they went
afterwards. Certainly they had never shown any inclination to
attack. Perhaps they thought I would simply fall into their grasp,
like ripe fruit left to hang on the branch for too long.

"Wife?" He did
not insult me by using my name. "Come in. You're safe with me."

But I wasn't.
Or feared that I wasn't. Who would defend me, if he decided I was
worth the kill?

Perin emerged
from the water - limping slightly, or lurching maybe, as if not yet
quite used to legs. Moved directly towards me, with such certainty
that I could not bring myself to slink away. He already knew I was
there, I could not hope to escape. So I crouched there, rigid with
fear, until he came close enough to touch me.

What a strange
touch it was - dry and rough, nothing like his skin. And cold, like
the flesh of dead things.

"You know what
I am now," he murmured. "I hoped to keep it from you. Because I
thought you'd fear me, or hate me, or plead to be sent away. And I
can't bear that."

I said nothing.
But I let him touch me again, bring me close into - not quite an
embrace. A grip gentle as a lover's nibble, yet inexorable as the
sea.

"You know what
I am," he whispered. "Did you guess it from the first?"

I hadn't. Still
didn't know, not for sure.

"We call them
shark spirits." My voice scrabbled for a hold on my throat. "People
who can take the form of sharks. I always thought they were just a
story."

"All stories
are true." He slid onto the bank beside me, skin close to my own.
Dank skin, cool with water dripping. "Those ones especially. I
always knew, ever since I was a baby. They couldn't keep me from
the water." He smiled a little, I could hear it in his voice.

"Don't tell me
any more." My voice shook now, as it emerged into the chill light
of the moon. "I want to go home."

"You are home.
This is your home. And you are not leaving."

I stared at
him. Teeth glinted, faint in the unearthly pallor. How I could have
thought him handsome...

"This is why I
didn't want you to know." He sounded tired now. I wanted to care,
but in truth I just wanted to get away from him. Far away. Back to
my mother's house, where I'd be safe.

"Does it hurt?"
That wasn't what I'd meant to ask. But curiosity sparked within me.
"When you change."

"No. It feels
good."

I watched the
waves roll across the shore, patient, enduring. Listened to them
whisper about the hidden secrets of the deep.

"I used to
watch you," Perin said quietly. "Up on that rock. Hoping you'd
fall."

And I had seen
him, I realised. Over and over, while he circled under the surface
of the waves. I knew I'd recognised that gliding movement, ever
since he first came ashore. "You'd have killed me."

"Probably.
Maybe just tasted you, to find out." He grinned at me, a shark's
grin, the bright flash of teeth in the moonlight. And I wasn't
afraid any more.

"Find out
what?"

"If all flesh
tastes the same."

"Does it?"

"I don't know.
Usually I just catch fish."

My hand sought
his. "Show me."

We waded into
the water together. It pulled at me, sucked on my legs and licked
up across my thighs. Drew me in, and down, until my body dissolved
and the core of my being emerged.

Because this
had always been my nature, also.

###

To become a
shark is to join with the water, slide in and be at one with it,
until there is no separation and no self. There is only the Is, and
It is infinite.

We journey out
into the dark, and it is chill and deep and hard: it pushes in from
all around, relentless. Then brightens, warm and shallow, slither
over sand. Light above, floating brilliant and round.

And I see them.
Hinu and Tuni, friends. Beloved. They are there, on my rock,
watching the water. Watching me.

I circle. Wait
for them to come. To join me here, in the shallows, before we set
out to sea. To play, or hunt, or drift aimlessly through the
vastness that stretches out all around us.

They do not
come. Maybe next time. I turn and dive and explore far into the
abyss.

Perin is with
me. Close by, always. We chase each other through the depths, coil
and whirl and drift in lazy loops through growing light and
warmth.

Then smell and
taste familiar water, reach a small cove. Emerge, dripping, smiling
at each other in the fierce sunshine of afternoon.

###

"Would you
believe me if I'd told you?" Perin asked.

I lay with my
head on his chest, and his arms around me. Safe and comfortable,
filled with a strange jubilance. As after an orgasm, but different.
Greater. That can only let us touch the Infinite; in my own true
shape I could swim there.

"I don't think
I would have known how."

Because there
are no words there. Those are human things, an effort to fill the
void around us. Without knowing it, we long to seek the silence of
deep waters below the world.

"Do you still
want to leave?" Perin held me tighter. "Say no. Please."

I laughed.
Nothing could frighten me any more, because I knew my own true self
and I had lived it. "No. I want to stay."

He kissed my
forehead. I closed my eyes and let my mind tumble into dark
waters.

"Did you always
know?" Perin asked. "That you were different."

I hadn't. And
yet...

"I'm not
different," I told him. "I'm me." Because I was, and always had
been, no matter what my shape.

But I'd always
looked for a mate elsewhere. That much was true.

"There are few
of us," Perin said. "We meet sometimes, in the water.
It's...different, there in the sea."

"Different
how?"

"You'll find
out."

"When?" I
trailed my fingers down his chest.

Perin laughed,
and cuddled me. "We've caused a great deal of mirth already by
vanishing into the privacy of the jungle for much of the day. I've
heard your men were rather pushing for an expedition. Just to make
sure you were well, of course."

I snorted. "To
peek, more likely. I know their tricks."

"There's
nothing to peek at in the dark."

"No." But I'd
seen with other senses, deep under the sea. Felt the tremble of
life all around me, distant yet connected, vast beyond measure and
yet comprehensible, in a way that the human world was not.

"When?" I asked
again, and thought of journeying alone through that trackless
space, utterly free.

"Soon," Perin
promised.

We swam again
that evening. And the next one, too.

###

About the Author:

M P Ericson lives on
the edge of a moor in Yorkshire, with an assortment of spiders and
mice.
Visit
her
author page
for news about her work.

###

Also by this
author:

IN THE HALLS OF
ARUNDHATI

M P ERICSON

The jewel case snapped
open. Stars slept dim on a bed of night.

Nisha peered at them,
curious. She had never seen a faded star before.

"Arundhati left us
spares, of course." Manjusha eased one black-gloved hand into the
box and picked out a star. She dropped it into the silvery pouch
and held that out to Nisha, who hesitated. "Go on," Manjusha
instructed. "Put it around your neck."

Nisha complied. The
thin silver thread rested smooth against the back of her neck, and
the weight on her chest was nothing at all.

You wouldn't think a
star with the power to create a world could weigh so little.

Manjusha gave another
star to Dipti, who took it with confidence. Dipti never doubted
herself. That was why she always won.

"Two stars," Manjusha
said. "Two divers. Bring back both, or don't come back at all."

Nisha is an ice-diver,
who must visit the frozen halls of Arundhati and bring back the
magic that sustains her own garden country. But deep under the ice,
she loses her way - and risks her life to save that of her closest
friend. Fantasy short story.

Available now from
your preferred retailer.

###

Also by this
author:

THE SEA DRAGON KING'S
DAUGHTER

M P ERICSON

"Kameko!"

Something stirred
under the waves in a deep-green sway of seaweed. Kameko emerged
from the water beside the boat.

"I have kept my word,"
she said. "I have sent you rich catches and fair weather. Your nets
have never been empty, and your boat has never been harmed. What
more do you want?"

"You."

Kameko smiled sadly,
and said:

"I cannot come with
you. I would die on land."

"Then I will go with
you. The Sea Dragon King has power over sea and air. He can let me
live under water, if he wishes."

"If you come with me,
you can never return."

Urashima thought of
his elderly parents, alone in the solitude of their house. Then he
looked into Kameko's eyes and said:

"So be it."

Urashima is a dutiful
son who respects the wishes of his parents. But when he nets a
strange and beautiful woman from the sea, passion wins out over
duty. A short story retelling of the classic Japanese fairy tale of
Urashima Taro and the Turtle.

Available now from
your preferred retailer.

###