Submerging (Swans Landing) (24 page)

Mama’s humming grew loud in my head, causing golden sparks to burst at the corners of my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut, silently begging my head to stop spinning so I could focus.

I rolled over, opening my eyes slowly, to face the sharp end of a spear pointed directly at my chest.

Chapter Thirty-One

I raised my arms over my face, as if flesh and bone could protect me from the sharp end of the spear. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the scream building inside me.

A grunt made my eyes snap back open. The guard wavered a moment, then fell, collapsing onto the floor next to me. In his place stood my mother, her hair wild and whipping around her head, the bronze mermaid clutched in her hands. A trickle of blood oozed from the back of the guard’s scalp and puddled on the floor.

Mama’s gaze moved toward me and her face paled. “Sailor,” she said.

I leaped to my feet, throwing my arms around her tiny frame. “Mama,” I whispered, hugging her tight.

“Sailor,” she said again. When I pulled back, I could see the blankness was already returning to her eyes. The clarity that had existed in them was so brief, so quickly erased.

I choked back a sob. “Mama, no, stay with me. Please.”

“She will never be well,” said a voice at my side. Domnall stood over us, the lines in his face deep. Josh and Callum struggled with Artair and the other guard. Domnall’s cheek was bruised across the jagged scar. He hadn’t escaped the fight unharmed. “As long as humans taint the earth, your mother will never be well.”

“I’m taking her home,” I told him. “Let us go. You got what you want, you don’t need us anymore.”

Domnall laughed. “Do you think I trust you? You will return to warn your people about me. I will not let you leave this island until I have what I want.”

I stepped away from him, pushing my mother behind me. “We want to go home.”

Domnall moved toward us. “Whether you stay or go, I will still be free to do what I want. But you will be less trouble to me if you stay here.”

I grabbed the knife from my belt, holding it awkwardly toward Domnall. I had never held anyone at knife point before and felt a bit silly now. But I tried to hold my hand steady and glared at Domnall.

“Wee girls should not play with sharp objects,” Domnall growled. He extended his hand toward me. “Hand it over before you hurt yourself.”

I swiped at the air between us. “Leave us alone or else I’ll hurt you. I swear.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “I do not think you will. Have you forgotten the consequences of harming another finfolk? Do you want to end up like your beloved Callum? Could you endure a life with one leg?”

I pushed Mama backward toward the door in the floor. I could feel her shaking, and I prayed she wasn’t about to have another panic attack.
Hold on, Mama,
I said silently.
We’re almost there.
Once we were in the water, we could change and swim away.

I couldn’t leave Josh and Callum, but I didn’t see how I could save them and Mama and myself.

“We can talk about this, Sailor,” Domnall said. “You could be happy here. You would be where you belong. You could have everything you have ever wanted.”

My gaze had been so focused on Domnall that I didn’t notice the shape moving behind him until Callum suddenly rose up, like a part of the shadows. Behind him, the second sentry was out cold like the first.

“Your fight isn’t with her,” Callum said, his nostrils flared.

“My fight is not with you either,” Domnall growled. “You are nothing to me or to Hether Blether.”

“I’m the rightful king,” Callum said. “You are the imposter.”

Domnall laughed. “You gave up your rights when you killed my wife.”

“You are unfit to be king. I’m taking my claim back.”

“You have already been charged with treason once, Callum,” Domnall said. “You should not push your luck a second time.” He stepped backward, closer to me. Callum followed, his fists curled at his sides and his muscles tensed.

“Let them go. You don’t need them.”

“Oh, but I do,” Domnall said. “I still have use for them. Perhaps they might be useful in my dealings with their people.”

“Pearl didn’t marry the man you are now,” Callum told him. “She wouldn’t have loved you like this.”

Domnall’s face turned red. “Do not tell me what Pearl would have wanted! You took her from me.
You
killed her!”

With a swiftness I hadn’t seen before, Domnall lunged at me, ripping the knife from my still outstretched hand. He pushed me backward, sending me crashing into Mama and we fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

I sat up, pushing the hair out of my eyes, as Callum lunged at Domnall. The finfolk king turned around to meet him, swinging his arm.

Callum’s gasp echoed through the room, roaring over the sound of Artair and Josh struggling on the floor. He doubled over, the blood draining from his face and turning his skin white.

Domnall stepped away, letting Callum fall to the ground. He still clutched the knife in his hand, though now it dripped with bright red blood.

It took a moment for me to realize the piercing noise in my ears was my own scream.

Callum rolled over on the floor, his hands pressed to the blooming red stain on his robe.

Domnall stepped back, his steely gaze locked on Callum. “I am king here,” he said in solemn voice. “And that is the way it will remain.”

Artair and Josh had frozen in mid-battle, and now they both stared at Callum. A dark red pool stained the floor next to him.

Domnall glanced at his unconscious men, then jerked his head at Artair.

“Come,” he barked. “We must prepare for the journey.”

Artair rose to his feet, but his gaze was still locked on Callum’s prone figure. He appeared to wobble a moment as a grimace passed across his face. But then he held his shoulders back and the serious expression overtook his face once again. He turned and followed Domnall out of the room.

I crawled across the floor to Callum. He was so still, his eyes looking unfocused at the ceiling overhead. Was he dead? Had I led him to his death after everything he’d already been through?

I let out a breath when he finally blinked, slowly.

“Callum,” I said, leaning over him.

He turned his head to look at me and lifted one hand from his side. “Sailor,” he said in a hoarse voice.

Tears fell down my cheeks, dripping onto his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It is all right,” he told me. “This is what should have happened to me five years ago.”

“No.” The word choked me and I leaned over, burying my face into his shoulder. I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. As long as I heard that steady beat, I could hope he would be okay.

But even as I listened, I could hear it slowing.

If only we were in Swans Landing. Grandma would know what to do. Grandma could fix anything.

As I lay there with Callum, I became aware of a roar underneath me and an ache deep in my bones. The ocean. We were on top of the door that opened to the beach below. I could smell the salt in the air and feel the whisper of the water calling to me. I wanted to shed my human form and become finfolk, letting my body remake itself.

I sat up, gasping.

“Josh,” I said. He stood with Mama, holding her hand gently as they looked down at us. Mama was eerily quiet and still, her eyes wide and focused on Callum. “We have to get Callum into the water.”

“He’ll bleed to death,” Josh said.

I shook my head. “We can use the song to heal him. The body undergoes a rebirth during the change from human to finfolk. It remakes itself.”

I had tried to sing the song before and had failed, but I had to try again. I couldn’t sit here and let Callum die in this place.

“Josh, please,” I said. “I need help getting him into the water. We have to try.”

“Okay,” Josh said at last. He glanced at my mother. “What about—”

“Mama,” I said, stretching out my hand. “Mama, remember? It’s me, Sailor. We’re going home.”

I hoped somewhere inside her was still the clarity I had seen moments ago. A tiny spark was all I needed.

Josh helped me move Callum off the door and then we pulled it open. It was high tide and the water foamed and crashed under us.

Mama looked at me, then Callum, and then at the water below the opening. Finally, she looked at Josh standing next to her.

“Oliver?” she asked.

Josh hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, it’s Oliver. Follow me, Coral. Let’s swim.”

“You can’t swim,” she told him.

“Yes, I can,” Josh assured her. “Follow me and we can swim back home. Together.”

Mama studied him a moment longer. Then she smiled and jumped through the opening into the crashing surf below.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Josh and I swam with Callum between us, moving farther away from the shore and into the waves. Mama followed close behind, not speaking, but at least she was moving with us.

The change I had tried to hold back as long as I could took over and I sank under the water, releasing a gasp of pain in a stream of bubbles. Bones popped and moved, skin stretched and tore, ripping away to reveal red and silver scales. My body shed its human form and became the other me, renewed and revitalized with the salt water I inhaled.

When I resurfaced, I found Josh and Mama also bobbing among the water. They too had changed. Mama held her hands up in front of her face, as if she expected them to grow scales as well.

But I didn’t have time to feel relief at the fact that Mama could still change form. Callum bobbed in the water next to me and he moaned, his face contorted into pain. I hoped the blood he was releasing wouldn’t attract curious sea life. I didn’t want to find out what it was that had injured the finfolk woman we’d seen on the beach that day.

“We have to sing like the finfolk on the beach did,” I said to Josh. “Use both the earth and the water songs.”

Josh didn’t look confident, but he nodded.

I closed my eyes, leaning my mouth close to Callum’s ear, and I began to hum, pulling the vibrations from deep within me. It was hard, but I squeezed my eyes shut and focused all my thoughts on the two songs. Josh’s voice joined mine and he moved close, helping me hold Callum up in the water.

I became aware of another voice in our song, an alto I had never heard before. I lifted my head and found my mother near Callum’s side. She helped hold him stretched out across the surface of the water, running one hand over the gaping wound in his side. Salty tears burned my eyes. I had dreamed of hearing her song my whole life.

Callum thrashed slightly, his eyes squeezed shut. He was still pale, much too pale. He kicked one leg, the one with the prosthetic. I reached down to unhook it from his leg, holding onto it to keep it from floating away.

Callum arched his back and cried out, and we sang louder. I pressed my forehead against his, focusing on the vibrations of the earth and the sea around me. My pulse throbbed in my head, my body already feeling exhausted with the effort.
Please, please work.
It had to work. I had nothing else I could do for him.

When he stopped thrashing, I lifted my head. His eyes were closed, but his chest moved up and down as he panted. He still lay on the surface of the water among the undulating waves around us.

But now he had changed.

He had only half a tail where his leg ended. The left side of his tail was there, but the right side ended in a scarred edge where the rest of his leg once was. His scales were brilliant green, like an emerald, and his half of a tail fin spread out in a translucent blue-green web.

I turned him onto his side, my hands clutching at the area where the knife had gone in. Where there had once been blood oozing out, now only freckled skin with a light line marking it remained.

Callum opened his eyes, blinking. His gaze found mine and he smiled slowly.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hey,” I answered, laughing as relief swept over me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed my lips to his, tasting the salt on his mouth. We sank under the water for a moment, our tails entwining. Already I could feel the warmth returning to his body despite the cold water.

We resurfaced, shaking water out of our eyes.

“Well,” Callum said, “I should almost die more often.”

“Don’t you dare,” I told him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The sun peeked through the hazy clouds that hung low in the sky when I opened my eyes. Morning dawned, and birds were already flying over the ocean in search of breakfast. Water gurgled in my ears as I lay drifting on the surface, bobbing among the rippling waves.

With a flick of my red-scaled tail, I dove deep into the water, then twisted around and broke back through the surface, arcing gracefully. The ocean enveloped me as I slipped back in, wrapping me with the familiar song I felt deep inside me.