The Sea King's Daughter (3 page)

Remembering this now, as I swam toward the ship, I resolved to keep myself hidden. I didn't completely believe that humans were savages. Still, there must be some truth to all the horror stories. There must be some reason why our two peoples kept entirely apart.

As I drew near the ship, I could make out the carved swan's head decorating the ship's high curving wooden sternpost. They'd loaded the deck with jugs and bundles. Woven mats protected the cargo. It was the first time I'd seen a ship under sail. Always before, they were nothing but shadows sliding overhead or barnacled wrecks moldering on the bottom of the sea.

There they were -- human men.

My mouth fell open in astonishment. All the murals and friezes of heroes and gods couldn't prepare me for this moment. I stared, fascinated by the strange, fleshy sticks where their scaly tails should have been. Legs were such a strange idea, as if the men chose to stand up on an extra pair of arms. I tried to imagine growing legs of my own. I couldn't picture it.

They wore short tunics, too, another foreign idea. In the sea we wore jewelry and other ornaments, but never cloth. I angled my head, trying to peek underneath and determine how the men's legs attached to their bodies. Unfortunately, their tunics blocked my view. My curiosity remained unsatisfied.

The men ran about on the deck. They tugged at the ropes attached to the sail, pulled frantically at the oars, and called out to each other. The wind ripped the words from their lips. I could sense their fear as I swam in the ship's wake. All humans were afraid of the sea, sailing always within sight of land, but these men were panicking. They knew they were in trouble. The storm must have taken them by surprise. I'd seen enough sailor's bones to understand their terror. The same sea that cradled and protected the merfolk sucked men down and drowned them. I pitied them, but there was little I could do to help.

Swells slammed the sides of the long wooden ship, slopping over onto the deck. I wiped the foam from my eyes and swam closer until I could almost touch the pitch-sealed planks. The men, caught up in their life-and-death struggle, did not notice me. The wind blew to the west, driving the ship away from land. Two sailors fought to lower the sail.

Only one man stayed calm. He stood at the bow of the ship, shouting orders. My gaze lingered on his sensitive, fine-boned face. He was younger than the others, maybe eighteen or nineteen, but a mantle of authority already lay over his broad shoulders. In the dim light his skin shone gold. Rain plastered his dark curls to his head. Under his short tunic his body was slim and straight. He planted his legs wide on the wooden platform, bracing himself against the rolling of the boat. He had a kind of glow about
him, some special quality I'd never seen in any young merman. I couldn't look away from him. He was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen -- despite the little shock I got every time I looked at his strange human legs.

Mesmerized, I fell back and followed the ship at a distance. I had to know whether these sailors survived Poseidon's wrath.

The men succeeded in loosening the ropes. The sail crashed down on the deck. Steersmen tugged on the double oars. Lightening cracked in the sky. Waves battered the ship. The boards groaned and creaked and began to split apart.

Gull-gray water swamped the deck. I remembered the other wrecks I'd seen on the bottom of the sea. Upholstered with rust and weeds, they looked just like underwater rocks. Black mussels, corals, sponges, mollusks, and worms covered their rotting planks. Ancient lead anchors lay nearby in the silt.

Soon this ship would join the others on the bottom.

The sailors scooped desperately at the water with clay basins, but it rushed in faster than they could bail it out. A huge swell broke over the deck, knocking one of the sailors overboard. He cried out, clawing at the water, sinking down and then bobbing up again. As the wave swept over my head, I could see his flailing legs and his face contorted with fear.

He squeezed his eyes shut and bubbles gushed from his mouth. Instinctively, I flicked my tail and darted closer. I'd always learned that merfolk had no business interfering in the lives of men, but my instinct to help was stronger.

Hands reached down from above and caught hold of the drowning man, hauling him from the water. Relieved, I rose to the surface myself -- in time to see that the sailor's rescue came too late. The ship rolled and foundered. Another bolt of lightening ripped across the sky. In the pale flash I saw the young man standing in the bow, his skin like marble, his face grim and rigid. Then he went over with his ship and I lost sight of him.

With an unearthly screech, the ship broke apart. Wood and cargo littered the surface of the sea. Men cried out. They clutched at the foam on the waves, treading water with so little skill that I had to wonder whether they knew how to swim at all. Some grabbed on to floating debris. I scanned their frightened faces for the handsome man who'd so fascinated me, the one who looked like a young prince, but he wasn't among them.

My heart hammered. Where was he? He was too beautiful to die. I dove down into the churning water. He was young and strong. He should be swimming with the rest of them, clinging to the wreckage, maybe even striking out for shore.

I had to find him.

CHAPTER FOUR

I dove down and swam under the water. I muttered a prayer to Poseidon under my breath. After what seemed an eternity, I found him. His eyes were closed. His lashes rested on pale cheeks. His hair around his head like tendrils of algae, and his chest no longer rose and fell.

Up close, I could see that he was only a few years older than me -- sixteen or seventeen, no more than that. I reached out and touched his perfect face. It was like alabaster, beautiful and cold. What a terrible waste. Just a moment ago he'd stood tall and strong, the master of his ship. Now he was dead.

Suddenly his eyes sprang open. They were blue, and dark as the deepest sea. We stared at each other for a long moment. He seemed to see me, really see me, and I read a silent plea in his eyes. I gave him a reassuring smile. His lids fluttered, his eyes closed, and he let out a sigh that sent silvery bubbles streaming toward the surface.

I was alone again, but now I knew what I had to do. I wrapped my arms around his waist and bore him up with half a dozen powerful strokes of my tail. His head rolled back onto my shoulder. His hair brushed my cheek. I swam harder.

We exploded up through the waves and into the pelting rain. I took three quick breaths to expel the water in my lungs. I saw no sign of the wreckage through the mist and spray, but I could hear the shouts of the survivors. I strained to stay afloat. The young man in my arms weighed me down. He still wasn't breathing. His body was so lifeless I began to feel afraid. I pushed his head off my shoulder and it rolled forward limply.

Just when I was sure he'd drowned, he lurched in my arms and began to cough. I fought to keep his head above water as he retched painfully and vomited seawater. Then he took his first labored breath. My own breath caught in my throat in sympathy. I bore him up and waited until his breathing grew less ragged

He was still unconscious when I struck out for shore.

At first, it wasn't too difficult. I floated on my back and kept one arm tight around his chest as I paddled with the other. I wished I could dive down and burrow under the whitecaps, but with my human burden that was impossible. Instead I rode the waves. I let them carry me toward the land. It was dark now, and I couldn't see the beach, but I knew where it was.

The storm eased. The rain stopped, the waves flattened, and the gray clouds scuttled away before the wind. Looking up into the sky, I saw stars for the first time. They glittered coldly. I could make out several of the constellations I'd learned from star-charts -- an eagle, a dolphin, a horse. A full moon cast spangles over the water. I dragged my rescued prince backward down the path made of moonlight. I kept his back pressed to my chest. His head lolled sideways onto my shoulder. Each of his shallow breaths tickled my earlobe.

As the minutes drifted by, my muscles began to burn. I fought to breathe, my lungs bursting, my neck cramping. Even my tail ached. I told myself fiercely that I must not give up. This was the most important thing I'd ever done. I couldn't bear to let him just slide down in the water and die. I switched paddling arms and swam on.

We closed in on the rocky shore of an island. I twisted my head around and searched the coast until I located a thin, silvery strip of beach in a tiny half moon of a bay. A cluster of buildings clung to the hills above the beach. Red terra cotta tiles topped walls made of mud brick. High above the village, on a moon-kissed cliff, rose the shining white columns of a temple. I knew from my father's stories that humans must live nearby. They would find my prince and help him.

I shook with exhaustion as I paddled the last few yards into the bay. Once, then twice, I faltered and began to sink. Each time I gritted my teeth and forced myself up again. I shifted my burden in my arms, careful not to let him slip away.

At last, after what seemed an eternity, the waves washed us up onto the coarse sand. I collapsed in the surf, gasping. I still clutched the unconscious man in my arms. We lay together like lovers. The sea sighed and tugged at us with wistful fingers.

My body felt heavier on land, heavy beyond simple exhaustion. Water no longer cradled me and held me up. The night breezes playing over my skin were foreign and almost unpleasant after a lifetime in the water.

I wanted to look around, to enjoy my first foray onto land, but I couldn't. Exhaustion overtook me. My eyelids fluttered closed and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Pain woke me -- pain and the itch of drying scales. I groaned and rolled over in the sand. Slanting rays of sunshine played over the water. Waves the size of my palm crept up to the shore, folded over onto themselves, then slipped out to sea again, leaving fingers of foam on the beach. The tide had crept away from me while I slept. It had stranded me at least a half-dozen tail lengths from the water.

I gave the young man I'd rescued one last glance. He was no longer unconscious. Now, in the first light of dawn, he slept more easily. Color stood high in his cheeks. Dried salt crusted white in his hair. Sometime in the night, he'd brought those foolish man-legs up to his chest so that he lay curled into himself like an elaborate salmon-pink shell.

Curiosity made me reach out and touch the bunched and corded muscles in those legs. He tensed and muttered in his sleep, and I jerked away, startled. Then, when I saw that he would not wake, I inched closer and pressed a kiss onto his loose, sleep-swollen mouth. His skin burned hot. He tasted of salt. My lips stung where they'd touched his.

"May the gods watch over you," I whispered.

With my arms, I dragged myself toward the water. How helpless I was on land! In the water I could outswim a shark or an eel. On the beach I could barely crawl.

The sand and small rocks scoured my tail, peeling away scales and scraping the flesh beneath. I bit my sun-chapped bottom lip against the pain. Looking back, I saw a faint silvery residue of scales, a trail on the sand.

As I slid between the lapping waves, I heard a shout from the cliffs.

More humans scrambled down the steep path from the temple, slipping and sliding on loose pebbles. I swam underwater toward one of the rough gray stones protruding from the sea. Behind the rocks, where the waves broke and showered me with sea flume, I concealed myself to watch.

Half a dozen girls in white tunics descended on the beach. Their braids bounced on their backs as they skipped along. One of the girls, slightly taller than the others, stopped and
pointed to the unconscious man on the shore. She said something I couldn't quite hear. The others hung back, but she ran lightly toward him, without fear. She knelt down and took his hand.

After a brief discussion, two of the girls ran to the village for help. The tall girl lifted the young man's head and cradled it in her lap. His eyes must have opened because a smile of pleasure lit up her sweet, heart-shaped face. I ducked down and pressed my back to the sharp stone, breathing hard.

I waited and watched until the men came and carried him away, still unconscious, toward the village.

When I couldn't see him any more, and the girls had climbed back up the hill to the temple, I reluctantly slipped down under the water and began the long swim back to the palace. During the whole adventure, I'd never remembered once that they would miss me. I'd disappeared for hours and hours. Grandmother would skin me alive, but I didn't care. All I could think about was the young man I'd rescued, the texture of his skin, the touch of his lips, his eyes staring into mine for that instant under the water, connecting.

I knew I belonged with him, in his world, and yet now I had to go back to my own. I could never run on the beach like the girls in white tunics. I could never let him see me the way I truly was, as a mermaid with a tail coated with silver scales.

I would probably never see him again. If I wept as I swam, I didn't know it. The sea swept any tears from my cheeks and bore them far away.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Child, child," my father said, clasping me to his chest. "I feared I'd lost you."
I pressed my face into his shoulder. His close-cropped gray beard tickled my skin. Father's face drooped into leathery folds at the jowls, and his skin was as mottled and gray as a barnacle-covered rock. His eyes had faded to watery blue. I hadn't noticed, until this morning, how ancient he looked. He was old already when he married my mother, and now each of his years showed plainly on his face.