03. sink or swim: a novel of lady pirates and merfolk
In the days that followed, he began to put names to figures. The tall one with skin even darker than his and long hair that fell in tight curls was Jo; she was always close to the pale one, Harry, and their body language was confusing. Often, Jo deferred to Harry: she walked a step behind her, stood at her left shoulder, and let her speak first to the others. But there was also a sense of equality and familiarity between them. He decided they were lifelong podmates, perhaps raised by the same matrons, though he thought Jo was older than Harry. It was difficult to gauge ages with humans.
Jo's golden aura complimented Harry's fire-tinged halo nicely, and her movements sounded like the bells of sunken ships during storms. In fact, the entire group now settled on his beach was very musical -- there was not a sour note among them, nor a black, oppressive aura. They were a rainbow hued pod that moved easily around one another. They whistled and sang and laughed, as noisy as dolphins.
Agnessa was the one with a green aura and flute-like movements, Zora the one with hair as blue-black as octopus ink and skin the color of sun-baked sand -- Zora made him think of a sea-snake because she seemed to undulate, and spoke in short, sharp snaps, and had a hissing cadence to her. The others wore things he knew were called breeches but Zora did not: she wrapped red fabric around her waist, which fell to her knees, and had strung ribbons and gold threads around her belt. Coins and jewels and beads and shells and talismans hung from these, shimmering and clattering as she stalked barefoot across the sand.
Katherine was very large compared to the others, taller even than Jo, with brawny arms and sturdy legs, skin that was spotted like a leopard fish -- he thought humans called such markings 'freckles' -- and a thick braided coil of gold hair that she usually wound around her head like a crown. She boomed when she laughed, and barked like a seal, and had tattoos across her chest and arms. He had seen her heft up a huge barrel on one shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
The one called Mad had skin like his, a tawny brown, and hair like his, too: dark but streaked with gold. Her face and nose were long and she seemed to smile constantly. She was also in constant movement, running from tent to fire to water, a wild energy about her. She made him think of the spiny crabs that scuttled restlessly across the beach, or anemones that shot out brightly colored fronds when startled.
And there was a strange human who followed Mad around -- he wasn't sure if it was male or female. Male, he finally decided, if only because of the way he smelled: a muskier scent than the others. Even muskier around Mad, who he decided must be his mate. He was called Franky, or maybe it was Lucky, or perhaps The Boy: the pod didn't use a single name for him. He had shaggy dark hair and tanned skin, and long legs that he didn't have complete control over. He stumbled and tripped a lot, almost as often as he laughed or smiled. His energy and aura complimented Mad's.
There were others, too, about twenty in the pod: Lizzie had very short hair and skin even darker than Jo's, Wilhelmina was missing her right leg beneath the knee and wore a carved foot in its place, Marcella had a crescent scar across her right cheek, Hope always .wore red, Euphemia was very old and very strange...
The more he watched them, the more he liked them. Every morning they would share a meal before heading back to their ship to continue repairs; every night they would tell stories or sing or play instruments around the fire. Harry was clearly their leader, and they all deferred to her without question, content to obey her orders.
Harry was the one he was most curious about. She was the most mer-like human he'd ever come across. He would almost swear that she could hear the ocean's song just as he could, because she would adjust herself according to its moods. One day she told her pod to stay ashore and hold off on repairs because there was a small squall approaching -- this was true, but how could she have known? Humans couldn't taste the air and feel the seabed's vibrations, and it was a clear and sunny day right up to the moment the sky went black and crackled with thunder.
His matrons had always told him to avoid humans. To hide if he could and chase them away if he must. It was dangerous to trust them because they were notoriously selfish, greedy creatures and liable to hunt and capture their kind. "When they abandoned the water, they left a part of their souls behind. They became almost deaf," he was told. "That's why they hate us -- because they know we can still hear the song of the sea."
But these humans seemed so happy and generous. They sang songs of their own, even if they weren't as beautiful as the songs of merfolk. And it had been many, many years since he had lost his pod. He had been alone for so long he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have the comfort of community; and now he watched another from afar and felt the ache of longing. Reason said that humans would be a poor substitute. That they wouldn't satisfy his need for companionship.
But he had never been fond of listening to reason.
"Cap'n, I'd swear on my mother's head that the hole's smaller today," Katherine called up from her harness, scratching her head. Her heavy accent always put Harry in mind of mountains and goats and women in funny white hats; by all rights, the very large woman currently suspended by ropes with a bucket of sealing tar should be shepherding a flock of woolly sheep through a valley right now, not living on a ship and maintaining its cannons. Destiny was a very fickle thing, if it truly existed.
"We have been working on closing it for more'n a week now, Kath," the captain pointed out helpfully, leaning over the railing to look down at her.
"Smaller than it was when we left it yesterday, I mean. See here? Where we brushed on the pitch for caulking? It looks as if someone's smeared something else here." She scratched experimentally at it with her thumbnail. "Something that's dried as hard as rock."
"Seeing as how that's what we want, and so long as it's watertight, I don't see a problem."
"Nay, but what in the hell is it? Who put it there? Mayhaps Agnessa's right and there's a very odd tribe of brownies living by these waters. Or wish-granting faeries."
"Have you been wishing on stars for our ship to be repaired?"
"Naught I, Cap'n, but I wouldn't put it past Maddie."
"Wouldn't put much past Maddie. Perhaps I'll leave a sentry onboard tonight, just to see if we can catch these unusual brownies in action. A shame we haven't any milk to leave them for their troubles," she joked lightly.
The next day, Zora woke early and took a walk along the tide-line, scanning the jetsam as she did. She always kept an eye out for beautiful shells and stones; Tessa, her sweetheart in Bogo, constantly teased her about it. Said she had a magpie's eye and that if she wasn't careful her skirt would rip clean off under the weight of her treasures.
The sun was just cresting the horizon, turning the sky the rosy pink of a conch shell's interior, when she saw the chest. Judging by the barnacles encrusting the thick wood and the rust edging the hinges and lock, it had been submerged for years. It was too heavy and the sea had been too calm for it to have been simply tossed up by the waves. How it had appeared was a mystery no one could explain when she summoned the others.
Lucky Franky produced the mallet he had taken to carrying, Lizzie supplied a chisel from her bandolier of tools, and with a couple quick blows he'd knocked the lock off and thrown back the lid. It had been a well-made chest: not much water had seeped inside, just enough to turn the copper coins green. The gold and silver still gleamed brightly enough, and the sprinkling of gems was a cheerful sight.
"Guess we won't have to worry about covering supplies next time we sail into a port," said Jo dryly. "And we none of us even had to bleed for this booty."
"It's the definition of a windfall," Harry agreed, crossing her arms and chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully.
"This place is magic, Cap," Maddie exclaimed, scooping out a handful of coins. "It's truly Paradise!"
"Maybe we actually died in that typhoon," suggested Wilhelmina cynically. "The ship sank, we all drowned, and this is Heaven."
"If this is Heaven, then why are you here, Wil?" quipped Marcella. "Thought you didn't believe in God."
"I just said I can't prove He exists. I can't disprove it, either. As a woman of science, I must concede that until proof presents itself, either theory could be true. I try to keep an open mind on all things, Marcella."
"Didn't you tell me a couple months ago that we used to be monkeys or something?"
"You're referring to Mr. Darwin's theory that--"
"Ladies, I've no patience for scientific debates right now," Harry interrupted. "Katherine, can you haul this back to camp?"
"Absolutely, Cap'n."
"Thanks."
"Afraid it's faerie trash? A bunch of rocks glamoured to look like coins?" Jo asked in an undertone.
"I don't really know what I think. We'll keep an eye on it -- if it stays exactly as it looks for another day or two, it's probably safe."
"Unless there's a curse on it," piped up Maddie, almost gleeful. "Maybe it's from a ghost ship, or was a bloody ransom for--"
"Mad, I am searching your locker and burning any penny dreadfuls you've got in there," Harry threatened.
"Aw, Cap!"
"Should we be worried?" Jo continued as the crew followed Katherine back to camp to better examine the treasure.
"Nothing has been hostile."
"Yet. Perhaps regular patrols?"
"I've a couple suspicions. But for now, we'll just wait and see. After everything we've been through of late, I've no desire to plant a seed of worry in their heads. They're relaxing and enjoying themselves for the first time in weeks. I want this to last as long as possible."
Two days later, Maddie and Franky returned from a stroll -- Harry took one look at the state of their hair and read between the lines -- to announce they'd found a splendid cave that would be perfect for a storage room.
"The stream curves right up to it, but the cave itself is higher up on this little hill," Maddie explained earnestly as they lead the way back, following the markers they'd cut into the bark of the palm trees. "The floor is a little sandy, but the rock looks solid and there's no damp or dripping inside, and it's not too awful big. Just the right size for a few barrels. And I bet we could rig up a door or something to secure it, so animals couldn't get insi--"
The sentence was cut off when she ran smack into Franky's back, teeth clicking down on the tip of her tongue. "Owwww," she mumbled, putting a hand to her mouth. "I think it's bleeding."
"Shhh!" Franky gestured sharply, shoulders tensing, and the group immediately crouched into the undergrowth, hands reaching for an assortment of blades and pistols. "...Hear that?" he whispered, looking sharply to Harry.
It was just audible over the rushing of the stream a mere few feet ahead: a dragging sort of sound, as if something heavy was being pulled across the rocks. Her chipped sword in hand, Harry crept forward, reaching out her left arm to push back the leaves.
There was a loud splash -- she even felt the spray on her face as she rushed forward. The rocks glistened dark and slick in the dappled sunlight but nothing surfaced from the churning water. Raising her gaze she saw the cave, maybe thirty feet further up at the head of a sloping incline.
And lying at its mouth was a sword, a far finer weapon than the one she currently held. The blade had been recently honed into a deadly sharpness and the basket hilt was polished to a mirror gleam. It fit her hand snugly, well-balanced and beautiful with a faint yet indecipherable design etched into one side of the steel.
"Another present?" Jo said dryly, eying the strange, wide drag marks in the dirt that stretched from the stream all the way to where the sword had been left. "No, don't tell me: a woman in the stream threw it to you and said you're the one true king of England."
"I have no idea what you just said but I'm sure it was scathing and pithy," said Harry.
"It was a reference to the classic Arthurian legend, dear," Miss Euphemia volunteered cheerfully with a twirl of her parasol. Why she carried the thing no one knew: it was dotted with so many holes it no longer performed its intended function. "According to balladeers, the Lady of the Lake presented Arthur with a magical sword, signaling that he was indeed the prophesized king who would unite..."
While the schoolteacher-turned-scribe nattered on matter-of-factly to Katherine and Wilhelmina, who both nodded and ahhed politely, and the others examined the cave under Maddie's urging, Harry made a few experimental swings and stabbing motions. "This is a very nice blade," she said appreciatively.
Jo sighed.
"What?" Harry demanded.
"You and your toys," the first mate clarified, crossing her arms. "You don't even care where it came from, do you?"
"No. Because I know where it came from."
"Oh? Do share."
"Same place that treasure chest came from. Obviously. And people think you've the brains in this partnership," Harry teased. "Nessa?"
"Yes?"
"Just give me a rough estimate. How many wrecks do you think we dodged sailing into the cove?"
"I've seen three for sure, Captain, but there's no doubt more. The reef system is a sprawling one and there are some sharp dips into crevasses."
"See, Jo? There's a plethora of shipwrecks to choose from. Someone's just been raiding old holds, that's all. And how's that map coming along?"
"Lizzie and I have covered the immediate area and we're relatively certain we've marked down the truly dangerous spots. Once the repairs are done, sailing out and back in shouldn't be a problem."
"Glad to hear it -- what, did you think I was sending them out in that lifeboat every morning on pleasure cruises?" Harry said, experimentally hanging the sword from her belt. She liked the way it looked on her hip. "I hope I'm the sort of captain that plans ahead and has her crew's best interests at heart."
"I never doubted you," said Jo woodenly.
"Ooh, you know better than to tell lies, Josephine," Harry grinned. "Because lying is sinning and we all know how Jesus feels about that. C'mon, sweetie, buck up! Why are you being such a curmudgeon?"
"I would just prefer to know what's going on rather than accept a bunch of mysterious gifts blindly, without a single question."
"Oh, I've got plenty of questions. And I'll get answers. Soon enough. For now, let's take a gander at this fine cave Mad and the Boy found us. Yup, that sure is a nice cave. Very cave-like. Well done, you two. Champion cave finders you are. Alright, everybody, back to the beach."
When everyone, Jo included, had filed past and disappeared into the jungle greenery, Harry hesitated beside the stream.
"I'd like to meet whoever's been so kind to me and mine," she said loudly, voice ringing out clear into the sudden stillness. "After all these gifts, I'd feel downright rotten if I didn't at least thank you properly. I'd just like an introduction, that's all. Say... Down at the lagoon tonight? At dusk? I'll be there, anyway, because I rather fancy another swim."
Then she turned on her heel with a jaunty whistle and set off back to camp.