Mythical Creatures, Part VI
The Grove
It had been a beautiful place, once. Ghostly stalks of kelp stretched and swayed against blue infinity and the light that streamed from above. Fish weaved in and out of the beams, and their silver scales winked back at the distant sky. Maia could feel as her vessel slowed and then simply drifted there. The dolphins all broke rank to rest at the surface. They looked as solemn as pallbearers as they passed through what she had been brought to see.
Tangled in the monstrous plants were the bodies of fallen merfolk, mostly female. Really, they didn’t look the way that artists or lovesick sailors would have one believe. They were fierce and angular, formidable even in death. More striped than mottled, these were the fighters of their people. The colors, brighter than the males, were primarily deep reds and shimmering golds. The stripes extended to their short, wild hair. They were beautiful once, too.
Some of them had been torn to something beyond recognition. Others looked more like they had just been scared clear out of their bodies and mind, and chosen to abandon ship. Maia honestly found those more unsettling to look upon. Tero was just outside the window. He turned to look on Maia. She placed her hand on the glass, fingers splayed wide. He followed suit.
After a beat, the ship was being towed to the surface above the kelp forest. Even before it broke, she knew that she could not go anywhere, not before something was done. These isolated people were being murdered by the dozen, and for what? Certainly, they did not know what was happening to them, but she had at least a few ideas.
The hatch opened, and she was above. As the midday sun hit her face, along with the wind and the powerful and familiar smell of the sea, Maia nearly felt weak in the knees. Had it not been an overcast day, the brightness of the light might have hurt her eyes. She looked in every direction. Nothing, as she expected. They’d not have brought their secrets to the surface with prying eyes nearby. The wind was warm, warmer than she ever would have expected.
Alongside her vessel, they began to surface. A few of the females, weapons in hand, faces grim. The guard, no doubt. A few of the males were there as well, and Tero. He came nearest, an expectant look on his face. They wanted an answer, and she needed to know more.
“I need a small knife. One of you has one, probably? I will go below and look more closely, and then I will know more.” Tero turned and made some sounds. One of the Reds approached and presented a knife, made from the same stuff that she suspected comprised the ship. It reminded her of bone. Maia pulled up the grey hem of the long robe and took the knife to it. Very sharp.
“Good,” she said, before she dropped the robe, leaving it in the seat that was hers. She jumped into the water, knife in hand, and immediately felt clumsy. In the presence of creatures of such extraordinary grace, it was understandable. It was colder than she would have liked, but tolerable. She’d have perhaps two minutes, and with help, it might be enough. When she felt her body adjust to the water, she issued her next command.
“Take me to one of the untouched, first.” Tero translated to the unarmed Red, who stayed near.
“Are you ready, ma’am?”
“Stay close, Tero.”
Maia sucked in a few deep quick breaths, expelled them, and then drew as much as she could, reaching for the hand of the red. No further confirmation was needed. How swiftly she was pulled through the current to the carnage below. She kicked her clumsy legs, as though it would do something helpful as the descended into the cold deep. The pressure of the sea was intense, and though it made her ears ache dully, she shut it away and walled it out.
Wisely, they brought her to the nearest of the dead. He was a blue, like Tero, and his eyes were locked open. The expression was more shock than terror. It was as comforting as any fact could be. The Red stayed near, orange eyes watching as Maia looked briefly over the body, then cut at the kelp in which he was tangled to free him, and turned him around. There was a mark at the base of his neck, where it met the spine.
They surfaced, and Maia gasped, and shook her head to both sides, shaking water from her ears. After a moment, she was ready again. Red took her below, to one of the gold-colored females that had been slain. Maia went through the same motions, and found the same mark, placed more haphazardly. This time, it sat on her striped flank, in a place that had not been brutalized by whatever had killed her. It looked, to Maia, too rough and irregular to be a blade.
Maia beckoned Tero over and indicated the mark before she moved to surface again. She had pulled herself back into the transport and reached for her robe when he emerged. Maia returned the knife, then wrung her hair over the edge of her vessel.
“I need to know if they all bear that mark. I know it’s unpleasant, but I suspect it is significant. Get it done.”
Tero nodded. “Are you ready to return home?”
Oh god yes, she thought. Hot food. Tea. Fresh air and trees and the timbers beneath her feet. Maia closed her eyes and breathed deep, feeling the sun on her face.
“A few minutes more in the sun. Then I shall consent to return to my chamber.”
Her consent. Yes, it made all the difference in the world.