Fish Out of Water

chapter Five

Rick Astley and Other Old Friends


Gadulan Precinct, Aegira

I watched, kinda detached, as tiny bubbles popped like childhood dreams around me and Mom. All the pieces of me weren’t back together yet. My eyes, and the rest of me, were still adjusting after their heady, scattered flight through space and water. But I was getting there. We were suspended, floating, in The Eye of the Goddess, the site of tomorrow’s wedding, re-forming before what looked like a thousand eyes, antennas and various other ways of checking you out. I’d done this often enough to know that we were also glowing burnished gold, like idols.

Helluva way to make an entrance.

I knew I was a novelty for those watching. A dark, muscular Aegiran, only my breasts breaking the steel. Mermaids, honest-to-goodness ones, don’t look quite so badass. They manage to look like a Waterhouse painting even though they’re hard as nails.

Every time I came to this vast marine cathedral I imagined The Awakening. I knew from the legends that the piazza on the island of Hlsey had been the epicenter of Aegir’s storm. And now, in its place, a still, underwater lagoon, the eye of a magical tornado, framed by the rush and suck of mammoth protective walls. The Eye of the Goddess. This tornado, and the temple-like bubble it wrapped itself around, was all that was left of Aegir’s wrath. And it still swirled and broiled ten thousand years later at the centre of a bustling city-state refuge.

Aegira.

A place of peace and hope for all who breathed water.

I couldn’t see Aegira’s golden peaks here in The Eye of the Goddess, but I could picture them. After the sunken buildings of Hlsey had withered, a supple coral hybrid had been used to rebuild. Almost impenetrable, it allowed water through and burned with a fierce golden glow.

As my brain started to wake up properly, I wondered again if it was Aegira’s glow that had birthed the legend of Atlantis. I blinked a couple of times to release my little-used inner-eyelids and swept the scene before me. I don’t think I’d ever seen such an exotic menagerie of Aegirans and other sea creatures, promenading together in this giant bubble of warm water.

My eyes roved over the teeming life caught in the golden light of The Eye. Creatures of all the treaty nations of the deep, and refugees from other, more brutal states. Brilliantly colored fish, who made me feel insipid and small beside them. Massive rays, floating like ghostly liquid through the throng. Squid, eels, some of the more peace-loving sharks. Even a handful of junior dolphins (I guessed the leaders would be at the main event tomorrow).

Also the covert ones, known only to Aegira. Silent at the bottom of the sea, and grateful for Aegira’s veil of secrecy. Gynomarls, silver-blue snake creatures with women’s faces, midwives to generations of Aegiran women. The displaced Leigons, whom Aegira had adopted, carrying gifts of pearl on their broad, faithful shoulders. Like oxen with fins. Sand Seeders, shifting masses of pure energy that rose from the seabed and could form and scatter at will. Brilliant, but ephemeral. And then the Aegirans. Beautiful to a man, woman and child.

There were many children here tonight.

As the thought settled in my brain, I saw her. Swimming skittishly on the spot, looking like she was studiously avoiding gawping at us the way everyone else was as we came back together after the hydroport. The Princess Lecanora.

All silver blonde hair, floating around her like a halo, and serious grey eyes.

She was standing close to some children cavorting in the water with a group of young fish of the Resicalian Dynasty. Like peacocks of the sea, the blue-green fish flashed and shone as they played tag in the golden pool with the Aegiran children. I thought for a moment I caught a blast of bittersweet longing in the Princess’ eyes as she watched them.

It was not in Lecanora’s destiny to have a child. For that, you needed a man.

And Aegiran men did not choose with those without a line. Not even their Princess.

I tried to focus as the High Triad, the Queen’s key advisers, moved toward Mom. I could see she was still shaking off the hydroporting detritus, the shards of other places still clinging to her mind and body. Lecanora was holding back, even though she was the Princess. She knew the drill. There would be a moment, soon, when etiquette would demand she greet the newcomers. But there was a strict protocol, and for now she had to wait her turn.

The Magician, Shar, was first.

I wondered, not for the first time, why the Triad were all so darned pompous. And why, in a line of female Queens, they were all men. I hid the thought carefully so no passing Gadula could see the treason in my brain. Being judgemental on The Land was one thing. Here you had to be real careful. Someone might hear you.

Shar was small for an Aegiran man, and had the sliding, stealthy grace of a shark. He slid swiftly over to Mom, running his fingers over eyelids and cheeks before embracing her.

She stood still under Shar’s hands.

“Our beloved sister returns. Thanks be to Ran for your wellbeing, and safe arrival.” The implication was clear to all present: one is never sure when you will be butchered by the violent scum you have chosen to live among. Shar’s distrust of land-dwellers was legendary.

“Why thank you, brother,” Mom smiled sweetly at him. “And thanks be to Ran and Aegir for the kindness and grace of our Queen’s most senior adviser.”

Shar bowed his head. But beside him, Kraken was bristling. “You brought your daughter?”

Wow, Lecanora’s uncle needed to work on his manners. Then I remembered that even though she still used the term uncle for Kraken, it had been years now since we’d learned the truth. I watched Kraken, his cool blonde beauty drawing excited chatter from those who had gathered to watch the ritual greeting. Those inky blue eyes flickered handsomely as his pride responded almost of its own volition to Mom’s reference to his status as second to Shar.

Mom’s eyes widened at Kraken’s breach of etiquette. “No greeting for me, sea brother?”

I realized she was playing the little crowd, which had drawn a collective gasp.

Kraken saw his mistake immediately and moved to rectify it.

“I had simply hoped to greet you both as one,” he offered nimbly.

I moved close to Mom’s side.

“I’m here, Kraken,” I tried to smile. I’d quickly donned a beautiful, flowing shift of blue and green one of the serving Gag-ai-lan had offered. Mom was cool with being naked for a while, but I’d gladly grabbed the garb. I had enough Land Lady in me to want to cover up my girly bits. “I see the preparations are well underway. It looks beautiful.”

And it was true. The strange water chamber truly did look beautiful. Huge structures had been erected to float through the Eye, strung with hundreds of thousands of diamonds, and gleeda bugs had been drawn in to crawl among the revelers, their incandescence reflecting prettily off the stones and refracting a millionfold through the pool. The sandy floor had been settled and was as soft as powder under foot, shining like glass.

In the beginning, the Eye had been feared, and not just for the powerful magic of its conception. Early Aegirans believed that when the end came, the towering walls of water would collapse, crushing anyone inside. But as they had explored, entering and exiting from the top, where the tornado trailed off into the mass of ocean, they realized it was safe: held in place by the perfect symmetry of pressure and temperature in the deepest place on earth.

Today, in preparation for tomorrow’s wedding, hundreds of resting spaces littered the Eye at varying depths so groups of Aegirans and their guests could rest without swimming. Sit if they chose, as they talked, ate and celebrated. Each was draped with sea-silks in the blue-green of the royal line. Some were on the seabed, others floated on sea grass mats, like magic-carpets.

“Thank you, Rania,” Kraken allowed. “And welcome back to your home.”

Mom was considering Kraken quietly, with her habitual half-smile. But I was sure I could feel the twitch of unease in her shoulders as she considered Kraken’s retreating back and the third member of the Triad glided forwarded. Epaste, the Silent.

After The Awakening, Aegirans had taken a millennium to evolve the biology for underwater sound. A mute millennium, observing dolphins and whales, watching how they used vibrations under water. From this careful study, a beautiful and complex language of hums, groans and trills, resonant low notes and soprano-like highs, had evolved. And with it, the songs.

Epaste, however, chose not to use his voice. Neither did he sing.

None of the assembled company trusted him as a result.

Epaste moved effortlessly toward Mom like a whale granted the gift of dolphin grace.

“Epaste,” Mom spoke the Ageirian language aloud. “It is good to see you again.”

Lunia. Greetings. And to your daughter.

The massive man offered the welcome of his fingertips over our eyes and cheeks.

I felt a chill. As a child, Epaste, the summoner of the Seekers, had featured in my nightmares. My eyes wandered to the Princess again. She was still covertly watching the children at play around her. I saw that, even engrossed in their swift game of tag, they knew not to go close to The Eye’s rushing walls. One blonde slip of a girl was particularly captivating. No-one could catch her. She wriggled away from all pursuers, who began to stalk her. Lecanora seemed to follow her clever, nimble form closely with her eyes.

Who was that child?

As I watched the Princess watching her, entranced, the tiny blonde waif circled ever closer to those angry walls, and I realized Epaste was done. The High Triad had finished; it was Lecanora’s turn. I gave her a mental nudge. Stay with the program, Princess.

My old BFF snapped back into the moment and floated over to us.

She waited a moment in front of us, tracing our eyelids and cheeks. “Welcome back to the home of your mothers. May Ran bless your stay.”

I spoke again to her mind. Hi, babe. Thirteen years. How’re things in Aegira?

Lecanora tried to smile. Dark, Rania. Confusing. And you shouldn’t talk like that. She curled her lip a little, like she was inwardly cursing her stiff response.

An image rose unbidden. Me, at sixteen, shocking Aegira by binding my breasts as I raced (and won) the Sprint of Atla. Atla, the second Billow Maiden Queen, had also been called Fury, and I’d channeled her rage that day, daring my too-big breasts to stand in my way.

Lecanora had swum skittishly on the sidelines. Worried for me. Always worried.

I thought about how we’d once been inseparable. Singing, swimming, talking to the dolphins. Lecanora had totally got me. Despite all my Land stuff. And despite her mysterious past. Or maybe because of all that.

She studied me slowly. Your hair’s shorter now. Like a pixie of Norse legend.

I laughed into her brain. I always forget how you guys talk.

She frowned quizzically. Yes, it must be hard. So long without hearing the language.

I shook my head. I didn’t mean that. I meant the—

The Princess seemed to be doing a nervous little jig on the spot.

I wanted to settle her. It doesn’t matter.

But she was still frowning. I just meant… It’s lovely. The hair. It sets off those strange brown eyes and full, algae-red lips.

I tried not to laugh again. How did you even start to explain how weird it was to talk like that to someone like Lecanora? I shrugged. That’s me. All land-dweller.

She shook her head, her hair billowing around her like smoke on the wind. Not all of you. She cocked her head to the side, sized me up. You are tall. Broad of shoulder. You have large feet and long fingers. Your neck is long too. The characteristic trait of the regal Gadula.

This time I did laugh. I tried to imagine any girlfriend on the land telling you that you had large feet and a long neck, like it was a compliment.

Lecanora’s gaze shifted to Mom, and I saw it soften even more. I tried to see Mom as Lecanora did, a classic Aegiran beauty, with a twist of something interesting and spicy. Like Abermonth, the rare delicacy from the south-western ridges, served at royal weddings.

Rich and sweet, but with a searingly hot aftertaste that rocks your palate.

Lecanora touched Mom’s eyes again and Mom smiled as she telepathed. Everyone is here. She motioned to the creatures parading around us. As it should be, for a Gadulan wedding.

Lecanora smiled too, but with a sad downturn at the edges. There are many others who are not. Species that are missing now. Since the warming began.

The Princess sighed and made to move off. My hand itched to grab her arm. Wait.

I wanted to wrap my arms around her. But too many would report to Kraken. Her uncle had never liked our friendship.

Can we talk tonight?

The Princess shook her head, stifling a knife edge of disappointment. No, at the wedding.

“Thank you for your blessing, child,” Mom offered aloud as the Princess made to leave. “But we are already blessed. To see you, to stand near you.”

With that, Mom opened her arms to embrace the Princess.

But the Princess ducked them, and before anyone could stop her, she hurtled towards one of the mammoth walls of raging water, hurling herself at it.

I felt my heart explode into action in my chest, but before I could even kick off to follow her, she had already emerged, with a small but bloody wound to her head and bearing a small child in her arms. As the assorted watchers drew in a collective gasp, I saw what had happened.

A small hole had opened in one of the walls of water, like a frayed rip in a curtain. Anyone standing close could feel the diabolical pull of the hole and realized the child must have strayed too close and been caught in the rip as it opened. All were silent, shaking their heads.

How could this have happened? The walls of the Eye are as immutable as time itself.

They shook their heads, astonished that Lecanora had seen the danger before anyone else. And responded immediately, heedless of her own safety. The whole event could only have taken a fraction of a second. The child should have been dead before the Princess reached her.

The Princess herself should be dead.

How could she have survived the fatal suction of the tornado?

How could she have swum back against it, bearing the child? And so fast?

A hundred creatures, every color of the rainbow, spilled words of praise and comfort.

But Lecanora swam awkwardly on the spot, giddy from the assault on her body.

She looked like her habitual discomfort in her skin was magnified a thousand fold by all the attention. I knew that she heard, as I did, what they were all thinking.

Just another thing that makes her different.


Day Three: The Wedding

I yawned as I took in The Eye through the dense fog of my nicotine withdrawal.

Only a nation that doesn’t drink would hold a wedding in the morning.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what those diamonds must be worth. Lucky no land-dwellers knew about this place, or every woman in the U.S would be wanting one of those babies on her ring finger. God help the peace-loving Aegirans then.

My danger radar was on overdrive. It had been thirteen years and maybe I was paranoid, but I swore it felt warmer than I remembered. Just like back home. I still couldn’t believe they went ahead and had the wedding here in the Eye. After what happened yesterday. After the injury to Lecanora. My eyes, like those of all the seas creatures assembled around me (well, those that had eyes), continuously flickered to the rip, like a jagged black mouth.

If that sucker decided to tear wide open, we’d all be screwed.

My body felt stiff and cranky, the hydroporting hangover I called it. And believe me, it takes skill to use Mom’s Jacuzzi to hydroport. You have to submerge completely with your song-fish and hold each other, singing the required notes at the right pitch and focusing your minds in just the right way. But if you can swing it, your very essence becomes fluid. You melt down to droplets, but you’re still singing. You’re inside the note, dizzy and spinning and moving.

And then you’re there. Beginning in water, ending in water. Traveling through the very droplets of water in the air, to the place you’re singing about.

In this case, home. Aegira.

As you re-form, from droplets to flesh, you’re aware of being alive, real, but it takes a few moments to get back into your own head. It’s scary but it’s also pretty wild.

And let’s face it, when you’ve got this far to travel, it’s the only way to go.

Mermaids don’t always hydroport, of course. Around Aegira we just swim. Hydroporting is for long trips, like from Dirtwater to this hidden kingdom, nestled at the deepest place on Earth. You can also use hydroporting when you need to get somewhere really quickly. But that carries its own challenges. Like sometimes, just sometimes, if your concentration’s distracted, or you try to rush it, you can bring parts of other places with you.

I thought about the aquarium. Like Blondie did.

I could see Mom looking at me, and battled to keep my eyes open. It was harder underwater, even with the invisible opaque eyelids that slid down to protect my eyes.

I tried to focus. Kraken was presiding. The High Priest of Ran’s Temple.

He joined the hands of the love-birds, who gazed at the crowd. Not at each other. The vows were being taken on a floating dais, a thousand guests moving around it in a slow circle. The guests could be broken roughly into three groupings: envoys from the ocean nations; representatives of each of the refugee species; and the Aegiran Gadula.

The Queen sat high on a floating blue-green throne, flanked by her handmaiden, a lovely young mermaid with a face sweeter than sugar. Queen Imd. Dusk. The youngest sister, last of her line. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Aegir and Ran sure perfected the recipe with her. She’s blonde as blonde comes, but without a trace of vanilla. Kindness and wisdom beam out of these lively eyes, and there’s a wicked intelligence in each inch of her smooth face.

A thousand years old and not a wrinkle in sight. Eat your heart out Estee Lauder.

Imd saw me and raised a hand in a salute. I returned it. She knew me, after all this time. I remembered that she was kind and funny. But that underneath, you could smell her sadness.

I guess you can’t have it all.

Butchered family. Destined to be barren. Only the arrival of Lecanora had offered her some solace. Princess Lecanora was the full, rags-to-riches deal. She was found adrift as a newborn by Kraken, now High Priest of Aegira (and an irritating, uptight a*shole at the last Gadulan wedding I’d been to, fourteen years ago). Lecanora’s parents were never found and everyone assumed she’d been abandoned. Queen Imd had always longed for a child. So she took Lecanora in and bingo! The abandoned waif became a Princess and the Queen’s daughter.

Go Kraken. Way to ingratiate yourself with the Queen.

Although, if you ask me, spooky Kraken took way too much interest in the Princess.

I trained my eyes back on the young couple. Kraken was in full flight, intoning the importance of children to Aegira. Not exactly Gone With The Wind, but they were lapping it up.

Kraken’s like Aegira’s George Clooney. Even the ice-cool Aegiran babes get hot under the collar around him. But he’s married to one of the Queen’s most trusted confidantes, Shighsa. A sweet woman, a loyal wife. I always figured Kraken couldn’t be so bad, to have married her. I strained my memory to recall more of what I knew about the priest. That’s right. They have a child. A son, I think, but apparently he’s some waster. A real disappointment.

The sweethearts planted a chaste kiss on each other’s eyelids, and began the ritual swim, touching the eyelids and cheeks of all as they passed, and accepting various other blessings. A lick on the face from a Gynomarl envoy, her silver tongue flashing like ice. A salute from a Leigon with the facial disfigurement that marked him as a separatist. And now a refugee. I saw Shar offer them the blessing, his body stiff beside the other tribal leaders, and I remembered that he is reputed to resent the haven Aegira offers to the “lesser species”.

As the couple passed, I thought again about how land-dwellers think mermaids need tails to get around. If they could see this, they’d get it. The newlyweds strolled, almost regally, through the water, swimming standing upright. Guests greeted them, staying perfectly still in one place (which is so much harder than it looks under all that water). Children darted easily at the edges of the ceremony. An older woman had nodded off during the nuptials and as she napped, one arm moved through the water in her sleep, keeping her in place.

When I first came here, as a kid, I was a strong swimmer, Mom had seen to that. And after all, I was the product of ten thousand years of marine evolution, just like the rest. But I hadn’t grown up in Aegira, and I had some clumsy Sicilian blood in my veins, so it took time to adjust to the weight and currents at the bottom of the sea, to the suck and drag of all that water. I would flip over unexpectedly, and find myself swimming upside down. I would float off in the wrong direction. I had to move continually to maintain a desired position.

But not Aegirans. Ten thousand years is a long time to learn how to swim.

I saw Mom swim up to a podium resting high above the crowd like a silken nightingale’s perch, and realized she must have been asked to perform The Song of Two.

In seconds, her raspy sweetness wrapped the Eye up in its silky strands. She mixed the ancient sounds up with a bluesy ache and sounded like a soprano Aretha Franklin. Even Kraken, the old egotist, surrendered himself, eyes closed, straining right into the music in Lantara. As she finished, the rest joined in. There was this climbing, aching, building crescendo, and one hundred perfect voices melted into a long, sonorous, vibrating note of joy and hope. It reached down into my toes, and began the slow climb back to my heart before it made it to my lips.

Y’know, I always thought those voices would do an amazing Guns’n’Roses medley, but I had to admit they sound pretty freakin’ superb singing anything at all.

I looked up at Mom, high on her swing, and I could see she was wiped out. The hydro-porting and the solo had taken their toll. I wanted to go to her, but I saw the High Triad making their way up. Swimming with the slow dignity of the truly important.

I tried to have a peek into her mind, just to check if she was okay, but she blocked me.

Politely, as is her way. Don’t worry, Rania. I can handle these old guys.

She sounded like she’d been expecting them, and the cop in me wanted very badly to know why. What do they want? Singing lessons?

Mom wouldn’t be drawn. We’ll talk later.

And I was shut out. Yeah, so I guess we’ll talk later, Ma.

The congregation scattered through the calm pool of water, settling into little clusters. As I floated, I caught snatches of mind-talk, and it was all of the rip in The Eye.

Two ancient turtles, hulking and superior, treaded water and hypothesized. What can it mean? Is it the beginning of the end? The prophecy?

It must be The Evil One, returned.

A haughty young Aegiran I recognized as one of the Queen’s scientists shook his head at his companion as he passed the turtles and caught the tail end of their conversation. Superstition. They always blame Manos. It’s sea warming, of course. The land-dwellers.

A much loved Gynomarl midwife floated amidst a group of young Aegiran women. Keep your children close, away from the rip.

The serving Gag-ai-lan were circulating, swimming through the groups with platters laden with all kinds of Aegiran delicacies. There was Abermonth, of course, but also wild ocean mushrooms, sea-corn and this crazy Aegiran cheese made from the milk of sea turtles.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and swivelled quickly. I was looking at three young women. My age-ish, I guesssed. “Rania,” they trilled as one.

Then it struck me. Choirgirls. Specifically, the Throaty Three.

Aegira’s equivalent of The Pink Ladies.

They’d moved in a pack since we were teenagers, and looked like not much had changed now that they were all grown up. I’d schooled with them during the times we came home to Aegira, before That Time. No that I’d minded going to school on my summer vacation. There were no hall monitors, for a start. The teachers sought out your skills, showing you things and telling you stories in a way that seemed far too interesting to be real. And that’s even leaving aside the fact that everyone at school was hot. And half of them were naked, at least sometimes.

“Hello Zali, Nidan, Tricoste.” I smiled, pleased that too much Southern Comfort hadn’t completely destroyed my memory. “What did you think of the wedding? Kind of low on the romance, I thought.” I was remembering the chaste kisses and the big focus on community. Although, to be fair, I guess sometimes Dirtwater weddings aren’t exactly A Love Story either. I recalled Danny Docko had looked like a less than willing participant as he’d trudged down the aisle next to his eight-months-pregnant bride last year. Maybe the Aegirans are onto something.

Zali giggled into my mind. Oh Rania, you know it’s different here. Passions are for your calling, not your mate. She emphasized the last word like she was saying something banal, and laughed again as though the idea of getting hot under the collar over a sexual partner was absurd. I wondered why she had switched to speaking into my mind.

Tricoste weighed in. Yes, Rania. It’s the calling that matters. You know, science, architecture, teaching… whatever is chosen for you. Weddings are about children.

The three of them sighed in unison as Tricoste spoke the last word, like girls on the land sigh picking out wedding dresses and creamy, embossed invitations. It reminded me. Mom once told me the story about the confusion that reigned when a watch-keeper brought home the tale of Romeo and Juliet, coupla centuries ago. Lotta head-shaking among the fishes that day. And now Aegiran kids get told that as well as being violent and unpredictable, land-dwellers make crazy love choices and do really weird things as a result.

Well not me. I must have pure saltwater running through my veins ’cause I’ve never been crazy in love. Unless you count my Glock, but really, that’s more lust.

And we both know some day it’ll get traded in for a younger model.

I squashed the thought of Doug that rose, unbidden. No. That was done a year ago.

But the thought that replaced it was worse. It came from a traitorous corner of my mind that couldn’t help but keep scanning the crowd, looking for him. The guy from the shower.

‘Cause I knew one thing for sure. He was down here somewhere.

I gave myself a little mental shake and turned back to the girls. Normally, I would have noticed it sooner. Body language is my specialty. But I’d been distracted.

I looked at them now, swimming skittishly in place, smiling too wide, standing too close to each other. And, most telling of all, closing off great big slabs of their brain as they stood making small talk with me.

Okay. Whassup?

Nothing, they agreed quickly, again in unison.

Lying. Man, mermaids are bad at lying.

Okay, sure, I agreed quickly. Pause. So why y’all looking so green around the gills?

They laughed, and now I could separate their almost identical voices, each a heartbeat higher. The laughter was beautiful, like bells in some gothic church, and I almost lost my train of thought. Then I remembered that’s what mermaids do instead of lying. They distract you.

But they wanted something.

So I waited.

Mermaid lives are ruled by etiquette, so they lasted five seconds in excruciating silence before they broke. Zali, the leader by a whisker, kicked off.

Long time since the Seer, Rania, she telepathed gently. What did she tell you, that made you go away for so long?

I said nothing, shrugged. Waited.

Are you really a warrior? Her pretty little face puckered in disbelief.

Warrior was stretching the truth even more than I can handle.

No. I’m… I searched for the right analogy. I’m a seeker.

It was the best I could come up with. No cops down there. No need. Instead they have seekers. Sort of like a cross between emergency services and a peace-keeping force.

I’m someone who… finds out what’s going on when stuff goes wrong. Tries to make sure everything gets put back right.

Oh, they breathed, as one again. Then they darted around so they formed a quick circle, clearly consulting about something. When they turned back to me, they’d clearly decided to share something. Are you here because of the girl?

Did they mean my blonde? But how could they know?

Ah, no, I said, shaking my head, my limbs stiffening and my ears starting to pop as my brain whizzed through possibilities. What girl?

Zali again. It’s Imogen, she whispered into my brain. She’s missing. Almost a week.

This really wasn’t what I’d expected. Imogen the soloist? I definitely remembered Imogen. Voice like an angel, even among a cast of angels. And an unusual delicate pearl locket, formed into the shape of a turtle, always at her neck. Missing how?

Zali shrugged prettily, and the others mirrored her like a gorgeous blonde Mexican wave.

Then I recognized the furtive look in their eyes that had puzzled me. Fear.

But people don’t go missing in Aegira. Why was I telling them this? They knew it better than me. Has anyone tried to touch her?

On The Land, it would have been a creepy question, but they knew what I meant and they all nodded furiously. We’ve all reached out for her. Separately, and together. Nothing.

I tried again, more to reinforce to myself. But no-one’s ever gone missing completely.

The three girls cast their eyes down. Not true, Zali said finally. Saskia. Don’t you remember? And wasn’t she…?

Ah yes, she was. A maternal aunt of my mother’s. Disappeared swimming with the dolphins. They assumed after days that she had been found by the land-dwellers. And killed.

I was about to fire off questions, when a brusque incursion into our brains interrupted.

Enough of this nonsense, girls. Leave our guest to enjoy the festivities. Go.

Man, I really hate bossy men.

The three scattered like wild lichen on the waves. But not before Zali fixed wide blue eyes on me and telepathed directly into the deepest place she could find. Rania. I know this is unorthodox, but you must trust me. Do not mention it to him. Imogen. Do not mention her.

Before they went, I clocked the extra dose of fear in their eyes. “Hey, Epaste, enjoying the wedding?” I was talking not telepathing, just to annoy him.

It’s lovely. But his eyes didn’t look so impressed.

I was about to let him know I resent having my conversations cut short by anyone, when I noticed the Princess out of the corner of my eye. She was leaning back on a bed of blue-green silks, her golden hair splayed out behind her, talking with a group of young women. She did that quick, uncomfortable shimmy that I know so well. I thought how much she would be hating this. All these people. All watching her.

But she seemed okay, no signs of lasting injury from yesterday. Thank you Ran.

And then I remembered. I was talking to one of the pompous a*sholes who’d decided the wedding had to be here. Regardless of what happened to Lecanora yesterday. Men.

“Yeah,” I agreed, half-listening. “Listen, Epaste, I’m sorry but I really need to—”

Of course, you must have much to catch up on. But Rania. He paused, and I noticed that his eyes were quite beautiful inside his mammoth face. Don’t believe all you hear. Times are strange. It is so hard to know truth from myth.

Cryptic a*shole.

So many pieces to this puzzle. My dead mermaid, who was looking for me when someone did her. Then tried to do me. Angel-voice Imogen missing. Freaked-out choirgirls. And now a warning from one of the High Triad. None of it was making any sense to me right now. Epaste vacated my head and I kicked off and began to swim over to Lecanora.

But before I could get there, I got another telepathic interruption.

Hey Rania, long time no see, babe.

It was Rick the Dolphin.

Rick and I have been buddies since I summer-schooled in Aegira one year. I’d bonded with him after helping him disentangle his fin from a net one day. He had this awesome dolphin name – lots of squeaks and a series of high pitched trills. But I called him Rick. (As in Astley. As embarrassing it is, She Wants to Dance with Me was huge that year and I was a major fan).

Anyway, by way of payback all those years ago, Rick had let me peek into his head to get help with my algebra. And the shit I saw was out of this world. Whole universes swirled and the secrets of the cosmos peeped out. I knew then that if those guys were really responsible for The Prophecy of Earth and Sea, as legend told it, then I was totally buying it.

They were magical geniuses of the first order.

Anyway, Rick’s spent a lot of time hanging around human ports. He kind of thinks he’s human, although that would be a serious evolutionary demotion for a dolphin.

Hey, man. Whatcha doin’ here? Is the bride an old girlfriend?

Rick laughed into my head. Yeah, right. (He shuddered like only a dolphin can.) What would I do with an Aegiran?

I shrugged. Knowing you, you old smooth-talker, anything you want.

Rick started laughing again.

I asked him what was on my mind. Seriously, though, how come you’re here? Thought only the head honchos got invited to the royal weddings?

He tried to keep the ego out of his mental voice. I’ve ascended.

What? Que?

He shimmed again. To the High Council. I’ve moved up.

Wow. I didn’t know you were even in line.

Rick rolled tiny little dolphin eyes, another trick he’d picked up in those ports. Ha! It’s not like you guys, y’know, your quaint hereditary thing. It’s pure merit. And I’m brilliant. The Seer herself chose me.

The mention of the Seer made me feel sick. Took me back to the day we went to her. The oldest dolphin of all. The wisest and most magical of a race of magical wise-asses.

I touched his forehead gently. Kinda like a handshake. Wow, Rick. Congratulations. And regards to The Seer. But, to myself: Yeah, right, screw her and her Appointed Hour Of Death. Then, back to Rick again: I’m really sorry buddy. I’d love to chew the fat, but…

That cute dolphin shudder again. Ugh, that is a gross saying. I’m not using that one.

I shrugged. Sorry. Look, I really need to go talk to Lecanora. Maybe we could—

That eye roll again. Yeah, yeah, blow me off. But before you go, I need to tell you something.

He sounded serious and I felt myself still. What?

Rick paused, and I could have sworn he was milking the theatrics. Look for the others.

I was paying attention now. Something in his tone. What do you mean, the others?

Look for them. Those who are hurting. And those who will help you. Only you can do it.

My fingers started drumming on my leg. Rick. What in hell does that mean?

It was Rick’s turn to shrug. Sorry, sister, that’s all I’ve got.

My hand stilled on my leg. Are you serious?

Rick had the good grace to look kind of sheepish. For a dolphin. Yep, sorry, gotta fly. Or swim, rather. The pod’s calling. Outta here.

I reached out for him as he started to slide away. Wait, hang on. How will I know where to look? For the hurting? And the helpers?

Rick stood straight up in the water, his tail twitching, a habitual thinking gesture. Listen to the visions. They’ll guide you.

Then the whole pod was gone. Just bubbles and a pinkish aura where they’d been. And a million more unanswered questions in my mind.

My eyes met Lecanora’s as I closed the gap between us. And then I saw him, floating beside some rush mats laden with food, with the casual arrogance of a King, talking to a blonde who could earn a million bucks a day on the catwalks of my world. But he was looking right at me instead. A red-blonde wolf, with a body like a fighter. Looking at me like he’d seen a ghost.

He recovered quickly and as the rush and shock of the moment subsided I saw he was eating Abermonth with his fingers. He held my eyes as he bit deliberately into the soft, fleshy center of the dark vegetable with a lupine look in his eyes.

I suddenly remembered the other reason Abermonth was served at weddings.

It’s an aphrodisiac.

I got all squirmy and warm as the recollection settled in my brain, and slowly, but very surely, spread lower. You know, I’ve never really gone for mermen. Too much angel, not enough pirate. I never imagined I’d break that rule, even for a beautiful merman that had lain wet and naked in my arms. But I took one look at this guy and had to try real hard to convince myself that the reason I needed to talk to him was to get to the bottom of the mystery of Blondie.

He knocked on the door of my mind, and I felt his potency and wanted to give up and let him in. Like damsels have done for Kings since the beginning of time. But there was no way I could let him in with all those impolite thoughts swilling around.

He shrugged, swam over and used that wild and beautiful Aegiran speech instead. “Hello, woman of intense desires. Where are you going in such haste?”

Oh man, I dig the way these fish-folk talk.

“Guess it’s my turn to rush off,” I responded, going for casual, like naked men crash through shower curtains onto me and then disappear again within moments every day.

“Ah, yes, I am sorry about that.”

He smiled at me for the first time, intensely, in a way that reached right inside my lungs and took up all the space. I could tell he was not a guy who smiled easily. He looked like every misunderstood anti-hero down through time. Dark and cool all at once.

I wanted to be cool too. I wanted to play hard to get.

I’ve never been impressed by hot guys. I don’t trust them. I don’t like them.

And I definitely don’t get all girly around them.

But I annoyed myself by responding shakily. “You need to help me with some things.”

“Of course.” There was sorrow in his voice and my brain flitted to Blondie.

And then back to him, this man who was looking at me in that direct, arrogant way tall, dark, mysterious strangers have been using to mess with women’s heads for centuries. He could have been Mr Darcy or James Dean or Antonio Banderas in Interview With A Vampire.

But he wasn’t.

He was a merman, and they’re not supposed to look like this. They’re polite. They touch your eyelids and murmur ritual greetings. They establish lineage.

But it looked like no-one told him the rules.

He stared deep into my eyes. “You are right. We have much to discuss.” His mer-voice was low and slow. Deeper than any merman I’d ever heard. The aural equivalent of stubble scraping on your face. The scratchy edge of it set my insides on edge and turned them to jelly. “But many are watching. So…”

“So?” I challenged him.

“So,” he countered. “They’re playing my song. Come.”