Sea God's Siren (The Brother's Keep) (5 page)

Chapter 11

Becoming One

Syrena awoke upon Dagon’s sturdy frame. The cave grew more humid over the past several days, or was it that she caught her lover’s passionate fever? She folded her hands on his chest, resting, and admired his peaceful countenance.

He stirred beneath her, then opened his eyes and smiled.

Other than Dagon gathering food for them both, they had remained in the sea’s rainbow cave delighting in each other.

Syrena supposed the time came for her to venture away from their bubble when Dagon asked her if she was ready to get into the water. She hesitated.

“You have fear?” he asked.

“I do. I don’t know why. I guess it stems from not having the ability to swim.”

He gently pinched her cheek. “That’ll be easily remedied.”

“And it’s so comfortable in here. I don’t know what we’ll find out there.” She pointed.

“More of each other.” He grinned.

Syrena stood and slipped her dress over her head.

Dagon watched her every move. “I don’t think you need that.”

The heat of a blush still managed to climb into her cheeks. She smoothed her hands over the fabric.

“Uh, it might feel cumbersome in the water, yes?” he suggested.

A staccato song erupted from the water, bouncing off the walls.

“Blue,” they both exclaimed.

“Shimmery-shim-shimmery Blue, I come-come to check on you,” the creature said gaily.

Dagon answered with a hearty laugh. “We’re grand, Blue! Tell us, how does the open sea fair, our friend?”

“F-f-f-fair, w-w-well. F-f-f-fair-r-r-r-r! S-s-see you there.” With great athleticism, Shimmery Blue leapt into the air and plunged sideways, then dove. A giant splash doused Syrena as Blue disappeared into the pool. Then something else happened.

Syrena felt odd. Her legs tingled. The sensation rippled from her torso down to her toes and beyond. She gasped and fell back, the air knocked from her lungs. “What’s happening?” she wailed.

Dagon knelt beside her. “Your tail is beautiful, Syrena!”

“What have you done?”

He tilted his head, his brow furrowed as if confused. “I’ve made you mine.”

“That means I’m to become like you? I am like you!” She stared, bug-eyed, at the light pearly green sheen of the scales that now covered the lower half her body. “But I,” she sobbed, “but I—”

“Oh, Syrena.” Dagon clasped her chin with his palm while his other hand stroked her tail. “Please, don’t be frightened, please. You’re beautiful.” He sought her eyes. “We’re supposed to be one.”

“I didn’t know . . .”

“Would that have changed things? Changed how you feel about me?” His hands slipped from her. He leaned back, reluctant. “How else did you think you could survive, a life in the ocean, unless . . .” Dagon stood, staring at her form with both admiration and anxiety. “You gave me your decision. You can’t go back.”

“I didn’t know you were going to turn me into a fish.”

“It was my seed that did that. I cannot help nature.” He turned his back, silent, and his eyes seemed to bore a hole in the stone. “Anyway, a
fish
? Is that all you think of me?”

Before she could answer, Dagon dove into the water.

“No, don’t leave me,” she begged, tears running the gamut of her face, dripping off her chin. But after Dagon’s departure, the cave grew unbearably silent.

Syrena struggled to sit up in her new form. At last she perched, gaping at her tail in a moment that seemed to run forever. She had a tail! And, just like Dagon’s, when it dried she gained her legs.

For a long stretch, she paced the inner walls of the cave, careful to keep away from the water’s edge. Until she felt certain Dagon would never return. Then she inched to the entry. Kneeling, she lifted the hem of her dress. She dipped a finger into the water then smeared it over a bare leg. The effect was immediate. That light pearly green reflected back at her at the spot she touched. She gasped and fled once more to the back.

After another length of time, she missed Dagon something awful. Her heart ached. Would he ever come back? Did he leave her? But mermen mate for life, she reminded herself.

Syrena crept back to the opening. While hanging on to the edge, she lifted herself down into the water. The weight of the tail unfolding beneath her threatened to drag her under. She clamored and gasped, trying to pull herself back up. And then she felt gentle yet firm arms enfold her torso from behind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear.

She turned in his arms, staring nose-to-nose with him. “I don’t care. I just want you back.”

“I never left.”

She kissed him full on the mouth.

He cleared her tears.

“Teach me, then, about your world. Teach me how to use this thing,” she tittered, while jiggling the end of her tail.

Dagon’s smile was soft, apologetic, loving. He began unbuttoning the front of her dress, slipping it back from her shoulders. Then he rolled the fabric into a ball and flung it onto the stone floor of the cave.

He caressed her. She moaned at his tender touch.

“Come with me. I’ll show you everything,” he said.

Syrena took his hands as he guided them out of their coral cave.

With patient guidance, Dagon showed her how to use her tail to propel forward, turn, move back, spring. They explored the Pink Coral, swam with schools of fish, and consumed various forms of seaweed and other plants—all of which began tasting good. And she couldn’t believe her eyes of the amazing beauty of Dagon’s undersea world. Syrena could see everything! And she found it breathtaking; most especially her mate, who both dazzled and adored.

They swam like a bolt of lightning. Then they lingered, hovering in front of each other, tails twisting together into a multihued braid. He stroked his hand downward from her waist, until he touched a spot with a sensitivity that made her quiver. There, he pressed his entire form against hers and in a prolonged moment of instant gratification, they writhed in ecstasy.

Afterward, Syrena swept her floating hair back in awe of Dagon and the pleasure he brought her. She almost forgot the need to breathe. In a single motion, she thrust to the ocean’s surface and gulped a giant amount of air. Dagon appeared by her side. For the first time, she noticed sprays of water spouting from behind his ears and pushed aside his hair to get a better look. A set of diagonal slits like gills.

“It is how I breathe underwater,” he said, matter of fact.

She nodded, absent of speech.

Dagon smoothed the strands away from her ears. “You have them, too.”

Syrena’s hand flew to her neck. She fumbled until she located them, one on each side. Anxiety caused by the sudden changes flittered through her bosom. “Do mine work?”

He chuckled. “It will feel like you’re drowning when you first use them. But then . . .”

She could tell he wanted her to go through with the transformation, but the idea scared her.

He softly squeezed her shoulder. “When you’re ready, I’ll hold you.”

“To die in your arms?” She didn’t mean to sound so hysterical, but couldn’t help it.

“No.” He shook his head, his expression exuding assurance. “It’ll only feel like it. Then the sensation will amaze you, the freedom and ability to reside in this kingdom, my realm.”

“You’re a Lodian. I’m not. How do you know for sure?”

“I have . . .
friends
who knew my parents.” He smiled. “Shimmery Blue, for one.” Then he cupped her face. “My real mother was a mortal who fell in love with my father, a Lodian, but their history is rather unclear, I admit.”

Stunned, Syrena said, “Then you truly aren’t the offspring of a witch and a serpent?”

“No. They fill me with lies still. I don’t think they know that I’ve learned the truth.”

“And your brothers?”

“I’m not sure what blood it is we share, if any.”

“Then you’re only half Lodian.” Syrena tucked Dagon’s hair behind his ears.

“Because you accepted my seed, wife, you are as well.” He matched her gesture.

“It’s all so confusing.” She stumbled on her next words, but then they came forth in a forced sounding confidence. “Then I shall learn to breathe underwater.”

Syrena filled her lungs with air and went under a few feet, but Dagon led her further down, into the deep. She glanced up through the layers of shifting light and variant currents. She caught a beam of the heavens’ Bright and Morning Star then lowered her gaze so that she stared into Dagon’s green eyes, stalling until she couldn’t any more. Beginning to lose courage, she tried to wriggle up out of Dagon’s arms. Her determined attempts turned into a tussle, but he held her steadfast, insisting she stop and face him.

She panicked. The air lost, and a stinging liquid surge shot through her lungs. She arched her back in pain. All sense of light and life faded. She drifted.

Syrena sensed light taps on her cheeks. Clarity came back enough that she discovered the light taps were Dagon’s feather-light kisses. She gulped some water, and then more. Her head bobbed with each attempted breath. Dagon moved with her and then nodded affirmatively as she began to realize she could do it. She was alive and breathing underwater!

Dagon flashed a toothy smile.

Syrena clambered to him, overjoyed with what of himself he shared.

He spoke to her in the Lodian tongue and she understood.

He said, “Now we are truly one, love.”

Chapter 12

Trouble

Dagon placed another string of seashells and coral beads around Syrena’s neck.

She giggled. “Really, Dagon, if you adorn me with anymore necklaces and jewels, I’ll not be able to keep myself afloat.”

He kissed her brow. “Get used to it.” With a wink, he stood and went to the back of the cave to sift through more of his collection.

A strange hum had begun in the cave some hours ago. She’d thought nothing of it, until the sound magnified, reverberating right through the walls.

Before she even asked, he said, “It’s a storm. And it’s getting fiercer.”

“Are we safe?”

“Here, yes. For now.” He exhaled. “However, when we go to visit your sisters, like you’ve asked, we risk everything.”

Syrena nodded.

“
They
are at risk, as well. Gwyn and Steffi, I mean.”

She bowed her head. “I haven’t thought of that.”

Dagon drew himself closer to her. “Are you sure you want to do it?”

“I just miss everyone so much!” Syrena tried to remain strong, but tears managed to escape.

“Ah, Syrena. Your heart is so full of love.” He wrapped his arms around her. “And I love you so much that I’d do anything for you, anything you ask, no matter what the cost.”

She sniffed. “I don’t want to cause a curse to be inflicted on them. I just wish I could get word to them that I’m, well, better than well, and that they needn’t worry. I’m happy, so happy.”

Dagon was about to lower himself onto her when an object burst from the surface of the sea’s entry and then buoyed.

Slowly, Dagon gained his feet and stared at a giant clamshell that opened like a mouth. He grabbed Syrena’s waist and thrust her behind him.

“What news do you bring, Chariot?” Dagon asked it.

The clamshell’s soft pink tongue wiggled in response. It made a series of undulated murmurs that Syrena couldn’t decipher.

After an awkward spell, the clamshell snapped shut and sank beneath the water’s surface.

Dagon turned to Syrena. He steadied her shoulders and leaned close to her face. “My mother has discovered what I’ve done and is furious with me for escaping another one of her prison sentences and then taking you as my wife. She searches for us.” He paused. “The clam is my mother’s mode of travel for she is nothing like a Lodian and cannot swim as a mermaid. Chariot jeopardized its own self by coming here to warn us.” Dagon inhaled quickly. “When my mother, the sea witch, beckons my father, the serpent, for help, it’s only a matter of time before they find us.” Dagon straightened and wildly searched the interior as if the cave contained answers. “I didn’t have a plan, for no plan exists that I’m aware. Syrena”—he pressed the end of his nose to the tip of hers—“I only know that I desire to be with you forever. Forgive me for my impetuous ways. The last thing I’d want is to bring harm to you, to us. Please forgive me . . .”

A beam caught the corner of Syrena’s eye. She glanced up through the portal, witnessing the compelling light twinkle. “They say it can guide, perhaps protect, too. They say others worship the light, for it brings beautiful hope to the despairing. It can be our navigator in the midst of a storm.”

“Bright and Morning Star?” Dagon questioned, following her gaze.

Syrena nodded.

“You wish to find it, to see if the star truly offers help?”

“What else have we to lose if we’ve lost each other?”

“The storm will be difficult to weather, Syrena, to reach that star from below the sea.” He snorted, a mist spouted from the sets of gills behind his ears. “I’m not even sure how we can do it.”

“Then let’s trust in it, beginning now.” Syrena cupped Dagon’s face. “And believe in each other. If we don’t survive, then we’ll die in each other’s arms—your arms, the only place I long to be.”

“Syrena.” Dagon kissed her deeply. “Ready?”

She nodded.

They dove.

As soon as they left their home, the coral cave, the sea tossed them about like twigs in a raging river. Even the currents below in the deep endlessly shifted, ravaging them. The lovers gripped each other—Dagon especially holding Syrena tight—as the sea swayed and billowed to great heights once they broke the surface. Moving walls of water plunged and jerked upright with a final whitecap. Each threatened to come crashing down on them.

They groped blindly for the star. Syrena gasped, begging the star to show itself, to guide them. Instead, Chariot appeared at the cusp of a roaring wave above them, carrying the sea witch who stood in its shell, arms raised, and eyes glaring at the two of them. She had man-like hands that twisted and thrashed as if they possessed all the anger and spite of the world.

She glowered at Dagon. “Dare you defy
me
?” Then the sea witch convulsed. Her eyes rolled back before she jerked to and pointed at Syrena. “Dare you steal my son!” she sputtered.

Syrena screamed, just before a wave made the couple rise and fall. Other than the sense of Dagon’s arms clamping her, she couldn’t get her bearings straight. In one instant, she felt like she tipped from on top of the world, and in the next she plummeted to the lowest point, swallowed by the lashing water. In the dark night sky, she could discern the rain-carrying clouds waft by with enormous speed, like a great black shadow anxious to unload its burden.

Pitched about, Syrena tried to communicate to Dagon that she didn’t think they could sustain the constant beating of the ocean’s fury, not to mention the sea witch’s rage. However, even Dagon grew weak and she doubted he heard her. He’d worked hard to hang on to Syrena, all the while muttering, “I will not let you go. I will not let you go.”

Syrena licked her salt-coated lips. She glanced upward toward the star flittering in and out of view. How long could they stay adrift, abused by the relentless elements of fury?

The sea continued to speed and gush, whip and cascade with its swelling arms. Wails of wind amplified. Yet she had an ominous feeling that entrapment by her husband’s mother would prove far worse.

My poor Dagon. No wonder you escaped her will, for her wrath is terrible.

“Give him the freedom he needs,” Syrena shouted. Though her cry was drowned by thunderous waves, muffled by despairing gales, she heard the sea witch cackle, loud and clear. In fact, with the shrill laugh came an intensifying of the storm’s vengeance. Clouds increased and grew much darker, the ocean’s tug much stronger, and the wind . . . the wind. Syrena spotted unusual movement against the darkened sky. A shadow she had witnessed earlier weren’t clouds at all, but Dagon’s brother! He meant to destroy her with his wind, destroy them both.

“Syrena,” her lover said with a pleading undertone.

Syrena nodded. She saw the defeat in Dagon’s eyes. If he couldn’t fight, neither could she. A monster wave heaved them up then crashed down, threatening to swallow them.

“Can we go under?” She meant as a means to escape, but he shook his head while his eyes danced warily around them. Syrena hadn’t noticed. They were surrounded by sharks, their eyes glowing red like fire.

Dagon’s brother, the one who was of the wind, appeared with more clarity and approached as a spinning funnel. His translucent hair whipped about wildly. He blew, and a wave collapsed over them, separating the lovers. Syrena groped and struggled to cling to any part of Dagon. She shouted for him, continuously gulping water, but lost all contact.

Brother Wind propelled the sky into an aerial eye, whirling the ocean into a spinning spiral. Around and around she went.

“Dagon! Dagon!” she shouted, but he was gone. The center of the massive vortex dropped, sucking her toward it from the fast whirling edges. The black water smothered her. Ocean’s arms tugged and pulled at her helpless body with current, speed, and foam. Yanked down, Syrena fought. Bobbing to the surface, she gasped for breath through the spindrift. Again, the force dragged her under. Thrashing seemed to worsen the circumstance, but to not wrestle exacerbated the condition as well.

Once more Syrena found the surface, but couldn’t take a sufficient breath because the fierce winds stole the air from her. Below, the treacherous currents. After another plunge she bobbed again, yet that time only her mouth broke surface. She gasped and called for the Bright and Morning Star.

You exist. I know you exist. Help me. Help us. Have mercy on our souls!

Her arms felt as if they’d been wrenched from their sockets as the vortex began to swallow her completely. The weight of enormous water crushed her chest. Pressure squeezed every minuscule part of her, while currents dragged her down, down.

Thoughts, ideas, notions fled, as Syrena allowed the darkness to overcome. Her first and last thought was of Dagon. But then there came one more. A brilliant beam of white from above enfolded her body. Peace came to her as she was instantly carried through the storm to a place of serenity. Positioned on some sort of hard, comfy surface, she began to doze for exhaustion and sorrow overtook her. Yet before she closed her lids, she spotted a woman bent over her. It was not the sea witch, but someone else entirely. Someone the like of which Syrena had never seen before. And this woman, though her brow furrowed, etched with concern, glowed with a strange aura, a pure beauty.

“Bright and Morning Star?” Syrena asked through a croaky mumble.