Son of a Mermaid (7 page)

“Hey, do you have a bike?”

Shea cocked his head, knowing he’d seen a bicycle somewhere around. “I think there might be some old ones in Gramma’s shed,” he told her. “I haven’t really checked them out yet, you know, to see if they still work or if they’re hunks of rust.”

“Let’s go figure it out.” Hailey picked the plates off the floor and carried them to the kitchen sink. Shea followed with the juice glasses and silverware. “Then we can explore the neighborhood,” Hailey continued, falling back into her usual chatterbox mode. “Maybe we can figure out which house that other girl lives in, the one you met on the beach. Do you think it’s one of the big ones on the water? That would be cool to see inside one of those, to see if they’re as fancy inside as they look from outside. I mean, our new house is big, but my mom has her work cut out for her. And, of course, I wouldn’t mind a girl to hang out with. No offense, you know. But you are a boy and all.”

Shea was grinning from ear to ear, listening to Hailey’s running commentary as they walked through the kitchen door into the backyard. The screen door slammed shut behind him, stopping Shea in his tracks. “Oh, hang on a minute! I almost forgot.” He ran back inside and opened the door to the basement, to the laundry room where his grandmother had descended earlier. “Gramma,” he called down, “Mrs. McFadden said to remind you about bridge today at the Community Center. It’s your turn to drive since her husband’s out at sea.”

“You must’ve misheard,” Martha called back. “Or maybe she’s confused again.”

“What do you mean?” Shea was sure he’d gotten the message right.

“Mr. McFadden died a few years ago. Mr. Guenther took his place at our bridge table. I think the two of them might have a little bit of a thing going on between them.”

Shea’s frowned at the thought of his grandmother hanging out with that creepy old man, or that he might be having a “thing” with anyone, even the dotty old lady with the orange cat. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath as he hurried out the door to catch up with Hailey. He’d ask Martha the questions about his parents later on, maybe at dinner or something. He had plenty of time. After all, he was stuck here on the Cape for good. At least he finally had someone to hang out with.

Things on Cape Cod were finally looking up.

The warming ocean currents of late spring meant planting season in Nantucket Sound, and Kae enjoyed helping her mother work with the seedlings in the castle’s many gardens. Even if her mother thought of it as punishment for breaking the rules.

Kae enjoyed the slow pace of planting, gently coaxing the baby greens to grow alongside the algae-covered walls surrounding the underwater castle. She moved carefully down the rows of tender new growth, concentrating on slowing the flutter of her tailfins so as not to stir the sand and loam from the ocean’s bottom. She didn’t want to dislodge the seedlings before they had a chance to take root.

Using a clamshell trowel, she worked her way slowly down the row, lost in her concentration and her thoughts. She reflected on her younger years, when she would spend hours in muddy clouds stirred by her childish enthusiasm. Her mother always set aside a small patch on one end of the gardens, calling it Kae’s Corner. The rows were never as straight or neat in that area, and there would inevitably be a strange plant or two growing tall in the middle, a stray she’d brought home from one of the other fields. But over the years, having her own patch of greenery to tend taught Kae to appreciate the cycles of life in the summer months, and she learned new respect for her fellow farming Aequoreans.

In recent years, though, the war with the Adluos had pressed well into the waters of the Atlantic, making summertime travel more and more dangerous. Kae spent the last few summers stuck in the South Atlantic at the heavily fortified Winter Castle, tending the needs of the Princess, while the King and a smaller entourage traveled north for the traditional observance of the Solstice. Her parents had accompanied the King on these journeys, leaving her behind, wistful for the calm beauty of Nantucket Sound.

With the Oceans finally on the brink of peace, the King had decided to relax some of his wartime mandates, including lifting the ban on free travel within the regions of the Atlantic. In a few weeks, dignitaries from all the world’s oceans would be arriving for the Solstice ceremonies, to celebrate the end of the war between the Atlantic and the Southern oceans.

Kae knew the end of the war was a good thing, but every time she thought about the upcoming wedding her stomach clenched as if gripped by octopus tentacles. There was something wrong with making the Princess wed a stranger, let alone a six-year-old orphan. It shouldn’t matter that he was heir to the Southern throne. He was a mere guppy next to her Princess.

Even more pressing to her mind, she wondered if she’d be allowed to finish her schooling, or would the Princess expect her to travel to the Adluo court? She shivered at the thought of having to live among the blue shadows of the cold Southern Ocean. There were also those scary rumors floating along the current, of the cruelty of Prince Demyan, the Regent for young King Theo…

Some claimed the Prince himself murdered his royal uncle and aunt in order to inherit the Southern throne. That his cousin might not live long enough to attend his own wedding.
If Demyan has the audacity to kill royalty,
she wondered,
will my Princess be safe in the Southern Ocean? Would he hesitate even a minnow’s breath to kill a mere servant like me?

The peace was supposed to quell the uncertainty, and yet it wove its own net full of questions.

Worries scuttled through her mind like darting fiddler crabs poking in and out of their burrows. Rumors concerning her own Princess nagged at her as well. Rumors that Princess Brynneliana secretly married a drylander when she was young. A human. And that they had a child together who prophesies foretold would one day rule the Atlantic.

Her mother appeared at her side, interrupting Kae’s buzzing thoughts. “When you are finished with this section, I need you to swim to the oyster bed to check if any there are ripe. The Princess will need fresh pearls for the engagement ceremony, and the Cook will need plenty of hors d’oevres to feed the foreign royalty.”

“After I have done that may I swim to the shoreline? I could gather more of the wild scallops that grow there.” Kae hoped Shea would be on the beach again today. Her heart beat faster at the thought.

Kira put her hands on her hips, her tailfin fluttering faster. “The King has forbidden contact with humans, especially the ones on those beaches. You must not break his rules again, Kae.” She turned her back on her daughter and swam to the end of the row, picking up a tray of fresh seedlings.

“Why can’t I talk to him, for Neptune’s sake?” Kae argued, her tail swishing from side to side, stirring a cloud on the sandy ocean floor. Several hermit crabs scuttled out of the mermaid’s path as she moved to follow her mother. “The War is over. And he’s only a boy, Mother, not some kind of spy. What danger could there be in talking?”

Kira looked up from the tender plants she held in her hands, her eyes searching the area. Kae glanced over her shoulder to see what it was her mother was seeking. There was nothing. They were alone in the gardens. Her father, Lybio, was out of sight on the far side of the castle, still at work clearing the last of the debris from the cobblestone courtyard where the human trash tended to accumulate over the long winter months.

“You must not talk to him, Kae,” Kira said, her voice low and urgent as she swam back up the row toward her daughter. “Especially not this boy.”

“But why? He seems harmless. And he cares for the ocean. Every day, he clears debris from the shore, just as Father is doing now in the King’s courtyard. In fact, it’s probably the same exact trash, since Father merely dumps it back on the land where it belongs. Shea simply carries it a step further, away from the ocean…”

“You will not talk to the boy again,” Kira interrupted, as she pulled an extra scallop-shell clip from her own long hair. “I forbid it. And you must not talk
about
him, either. His name will only cause trouble. Now, pull your hair back from your face and let’s finish the planting. The King’s entourage will arrive any day now.”

Kae frowned, reaching for the hair clip her mother held out. “You don’t understand,” she said with a sigh, a thin stream of bubbles rising as she exhaled.

The pair began to dig, now side-by-side. A school of small shining dartfish swished eagerly toward the seedlings, their zebra stripes flickering in the sun-dappled field. Kira swatted them away with her hand, saying, “There seem to be more and more of these silvery pests each year, moving northward with us as the oceans warm.”

Kae said nothing, preferring to stew in her anger.
Why would the name Shea cause trouble?
Her mother was being unreasonable and overprotective, trying to keep Kae sheltered in childhood
. I’m no longer a youngling, for Neptune’s sake
. Why couldn’t her parents understand?

The pair worked in silence for hours. The garden covered the vast expanse of the rear courtyard, just beyond where a ring of boulders marked the edge of the formal patio. As they worked among the swaying greenery, Kae’s anger ebbed slowly, replaced by the serenity of the garden. Kae found the graceful green fronds and thin beige reeds much more beautiful than the stubby multi-hued anemones growing on the hard coral reefs which surrounded the winter palace.

The two castles were different in so many ways, both small and large. She wondered if the other clans had such variety in their summer and winter residences. She’d heard tales of the Pacific King building new summer residences every few years, scattered all throughout the wide expanse of his domain, one for each new prince or princess born into the already large royal family. She wondered how many servants they must employ to keep all those buildings maintained, and felt glad that her own clan was more traditional.

The Aequorean summer castle in the depths of Nantucket Sound had been in the royal family for many generations. Long and sprawling, the building stretched for more than a mile in each direction from the central courtyard. Long and low to the ocean’s floor, the castle consisted of many open winding corridors and countless guest rooms, all grouped in twos or threes to accommodate summer visitors.

Where the winter palace was a tall, imposing fortress of a structure built of glistening marble blocks and glinting with golden touches, the summer castle was built of local granite, the same as the jetties built by the humans which jutted out from the shoreline. Kae’s family lived in one of the servant cottages, which were separate two-room homes built with more of the stone and clustered off along the edges of the main structure.

Algae and seaweed grasses covered entire sections of the buildings, helping them blend into the surrounding landscape and go undetected in the comparatively shallow waters of the Sound. Although the castle had been built to go unnoticed, the proximity to the humans made drylanders impossible to ignore.

“Why are humans bad?” Kae asked carefully, finally breaking the silence between she and her mother.

Kira sighed, a slow stream of bubbles rising from the gills behind her ears. “Not everyone considers humans to be evil. The purity of blood arguments being spouted by the Adluos have been around a long, long time. But this utter hatred of drylanders is a new twist on an old story.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mermaids and humans have a long history of interactions. It’s nothing new, nor is there anything wrong with it.”

Kae rolled her eyes. She already knew her parents disagreed with the extremist views of drylanders. But her mother’s next statement made her heart skip a beat.

“Your father himself was born above water,” Kira continued, still intent on her planting. “His name Lybio means ‘born in a dry place.’”

Kae realized her mouth was hanging open at this completely unexpected revelation. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know such a thing was even possible. How can a mermaid and a human have a child together?”

“Just because a thing is possible, doesn’t mean it should be allowed.” Lybio’s deep voice startled both mermaids. They turned to find him standing at the edge of the garden. His muscled arms were folded across his torso, his dark grey hair and beard waving in the slight current. “Kira, what tales are you telling our daughter?”

“This may be her…her last Nantucket summer with us,” Kira said, holding her head high even as Lybio glared at her. “Whether she travels to University or stays to serve the Princess, she deserves to know her own history before she hears it from others who would use it against her. Especially if she is to travel south,” she added, raising her eyebrows. Kira was quick to read between the lines. If she were indeed even part human, she would be an outcast among the Adluos. Wasn’t it said their own Queen was murdered for having traces of drylander blood?

Lybio pressed his lips together, his mouth a barely visible line. Finally, he nodded in agreement. “So be it. But this part is my tale to tell.” Kira turned and with a few quick flicks of the tail was gone from the gardens, leaving father and daughter alone.

“Is it true?” Kae asked. Her eyes traveled the length of his body, looking for some outward sign of his drylander birth and finding none. “Your father was truly human?” Lybio gave a sharp nod of assent. “So I’m…part drylander?” she asked, glancing down at her own hands. They suddenly looked different to her, like they belonged to a stranger.

“This is no one’s business but ours,” Lybio warned. “There are those even among the Aequorean clan who despise anything tainted by the touch of drylanders.”

“I don’t understand,” said Kae, her voice small.

“Times were different under the kings of old,” Lybio said, his deep voice taking on the rhythmic pulse of a storyteller. “The oceans cleaner, the food more plentiful. For hundreds of years, the clans were at peace with the humans and with each other.”

Kira nodded, listening intently while he talked of the past. She wasn’t quite sure how old her father actually was but knew he was ancient even for a merman. Merfolk could live for a century without ever appearing older than a twenty-year-old human, unless they spent a lot of time above the surface. Everyone knew air was bad for the skin, causing wrinkles and ugly brown spots.

“Legends exist in every clan, and in every dryland culture, of mermaids falling in love with humans, foregoing their lives in the ocean to become land creatures,” he said, looking away from his daughter toward the edges of the garden.

“Surely, those are make-believe stories,” Kae said with a smile. “Who would give up eternal youth and life in our beautiful oceans?”