Emerge (38 page)

Melusine takes him by the arm while her father yanks at my own. Soon, all four of us swim right above the symbols that deface the floor. Mr. Havelock moves a few feet back and begins chanting in Mermese.

His creepy half-music fills the chamber.

“Stay,”
Melusine orders, like I’m a misbehaving puppy. Keeping a firm grip on Clay, she swims to where rows of supplies lie on the ground, just outside the circle of symbols. When she returns, she holds a small bottle containing a deep purple potion. Then she brings it to Clay’s lips.

“What is that?”
Urgency suffuses my voice.

“Don’t worry—this won’t affect the potion keeping him alive down here. I need him alive so I can kill him.”
She laughs at her own sick joke.
“All this does is make things a lot more interesting.”

Clay’s hand jerks, and I gasp. He’s waking up.

Melusine returns the sharpened dagger to his throat.

“Now, tell him exactly what you are and what you’ve done to him. Or I play slice and dice.”

The ice clinging to Clay’s eyelids chips off with a soft crackle. He opens his eyes.

“Don’t move!”
I tell Clay, worried that even a small nick from the dagger at his throat will cause him searing pain. My words come out in the sibilant, melodic tones of Mermese. I don’t realize my mistake until Clay starts thrashing, wild-eyed. How much can he see in the semi-darkness?

Melusine moves the blade an inch or two from his skin but angles it threateningly at him.
“Better tame your stallion, Lia. I wouldn’t want to cut him by mistake.”

I rush to Clay’s side. He’s choking and sputtering.

“Clay, stop moving. It’s okay. You can breathe the water. Just let it in.” It’s strange speaking English underwater. The words are muffled, so I say them into Clay’s ear. But my eyes never leave the dagger.

“Breathe. Shh. Just breathe and stay still.”

It must take courage for Clay to take the salt water into his mouth and nose, but he does. Now that I’m close to him, I can see the potion has given him gills like mine—tiny openings along the sides of his neck below his ears.

He gasps again and again, no doubt getting used to the strange sensation. I use the time to keep talking to him.

“Clay, listen to me. I need you to stay very still. We’re both in danger, and there’s a knife at your throat.”

“Lia, are you okay?” His gaze searches my face. Melusine presses the dagger’s tip up under his chin, and he must feel it because he doesn’t dare move his head.

At least as long as he doesn’t look down, he can’t see my tail.

“I’m okay.”

His eyes move as far to the side as they can, trying to see who’s holding the knife. But Melusine floats behind him, out of his field of vision. Giving up, he says to me, “We’re underwater.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“How are we breathing? How are we talking?”

“You’re breathing because you drank a potion. A magic potion.” There’s no other way to say it. He blinks twice but doesn’t question this. I guess waking up deep in the ocean with an unseen attacker threatening your life does wonders to suspend your disbelief. Or maybe he’s in shock.

“I’m breathing … ” I hesitate. Melusine raises an eyebrow at me from behind Clay and adjusts her grip on the dagger’s hilt. “ … because I can.”

“You can breathe underwater?”

Melusine lets out an exaggerated yawn. “I’m getting bored, Lia. Start talking.”

“Mel? Is that you? What are you doing here?” Clay asks, trying to see over his shoulder without moving his head. It’s a useless endeavor, but he must be able to guess from the proximity of her voice that she’s the one holding the dagger, because he says, “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doing this because Lia’s been lying to you. It’s very naughty of her.” She smirks at me as she ruins my life. “I’m just making sure she finally tells you the truth.”

“Lia?” His hazel eyes, greener than ever in the chamber’s emerald glow, are wide and questioning.

“She’s right,” I admit, shifting my gaze away from his. “I have lied to you.”

“About what?”

I wring my hands, twisting my fingers together.

“I can breathe underwater because … because I’m a Mermaid.” I move backward so he can see all of me—all of my long fish’s tail.

His jaw drops.

The only sounds are my own heartbeat pulsing in my ears and Mr. Havelock’s ghostly chant growing louder. The seconds stretch.

“This whole time?” Clay finally asks. “This whole time you’ve been a … a … ”

Tides, he can’t even say it. “A Mermaid? Yeah.”

“But how … how did I not know my girlfriend was a … ”

“Oh, she was never your girlfriend,” Melusine interrupts. “Not really. Tell him, Lia. And you’d better hurry—that potion’ll be wearing off mighty soon.”

She says it so casually, but her words tighten my chest. How long before he stops breathing? Twenty minutes? Ten? Two?

I close the distance between us again so he’ll be able to hear me. If it weren’t for the dagger, would he recoil from me now? If he doesn’t want to yet, he will.

At Melusine’s dangerous look, I start talking fast. “She’s right. I … I was never really your girlfriend.” I look away.

“Yes you were. Lia, you were my girlfriend up until yesterday when you just ran off.”

“No. That’s why I ran off. I couldn’t lie to you anymore.”

“Because you’re a mermaid?” His voice is all shock, confusion.

“No, because being with someone means choosing them, but you never chose me. You never had a choice.”

I take a deep breath, the water flowing in and out of me. “Melusine—Mel—she’s a Mermaid too, and she sirened you. She, um, she used a spell … a song … to brainwash you. To make you love her. I wanted to protect you.” I stroke his cheek, feel his stubble graze my fingertips.

“Tell him what you did, Lia.” Melusine’s voice is menacing now, as she presses the blade harder against the flesh of his throat. He swallows.

I speed up, the words spilling out of my mouth. “I wanted to make sure she couldn’t hurt you, so I sang to you.” My voice cracks. “I brainwashed you.”

“My song … ” He trails off, putting the pieces together.

“Yes. I sang your song. Oh, Clay, every time I did it, I felt so awful. But I didn’t know what else to do. And then you started acting like you liked me, like you wanted me, like you loved me.”

“You liked it,” Melusine accuses in a hiss.

I nod in shame. “I didn’t want to like it, but I did. I used magic to control you, to control your feelings.” My eyes well up with tears. “I’m sorry, Clay. I’m so, so sorry.”

“So, I never loved you? It wasn’t real?”

“No,” I shake my head, the tears flowing freely now, dotting the surrounding water with the shimmering pearls of my regret, my grief. “I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be real so badly.”

Clay’s jaw sets. “Get away from me.”

“Clay, please, I—”

“You used me.” He clenches his teeth. “All those times you sang to me. I thought we were connecting. God, Lia, I thought … but no. You were making me think those things, you were making me feel that way. I can’t even look at you.”

Melusine may as well have cut me with that dagger. The pain couldn’t be worse than this.

Her laugh pierces the water, and she releases Clay with a flourish, letting the dagger hang at her side. It doesn’t matter now. The damage is done. He swims away from me.

“Brava,” Melusine says. “I certainly couldn’t have hurt him any worse than that.”

Neither Clay nor I say anything. There’s nothing left to say.

Clay’s eyes are red. If we weren’t surrounded by water, would there be tears in them?

Suddenly, the whole room vibrates. The symbols etched below us glow. Mr. Havelock stops chanting.

“That confirms it,”
he says.
“The human is heartbroken. He’s ready to be sacrificed.”

“Thanks, Lia,”
Melusine says.
“I couldn’t have done it without you. Ready to watch him die?”
A deranged look shines in her eyes as she rushes toward Clay, the obsidian blade aimed straight at him.

He sees her coming and tries to swim away, but with her natural speed in the water, he’s no match for her. This deep down, the current is strong, and without a tail to combat it, Clay looks like he’s swimming in slow motion. She’ll reach him in seconds.

It can’t end like this. Without planning, without thinking, I shoot toward her. My hand closes around her wrist.

Clay’s voice echoes in my memory from a long-ago lesson: “Keep as much distance between the weapon and the victim as possible.”

I wrench her arm upward so the dagger points away from Clay.

“Swim to the surface! Now!” I scream to him. He has to save himself before sunrise—before the potion wears off, and he stops breathing.

I squeeze Melusine’s wrist as hard as I can and smash my tail into the spot on her abdomen I bruised earlier. The shock and pain of the impact make her loosen her grip on the dagger for the briefest of moments. That’s all I need. I shake her arm violently, and the dagger flies out of her hand, plummeting toward the sea floor.

I let go of her and speed after it. Without the dagger, she can’t kill Clay in the ritual. If I can hold onto it until sunrise, she’ll miss her chance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clay hasn’t listened to me; he’s swimming toward us instead of toward the surface. But he’s making almost no progress, his human legs still hindered by the current.

I dive toward the ancient weapon, my arm outstretched, my fingers inches from the hilt.

Thick arms wrap around my waist and yank me away from my prize. Mr. Havelock holds me back, and all I can do is watch in horror as Melusine’s long-fingered hand closes around the rubied hilt.

She spins around, brandishing the dagger in my direction. Her other hand clutches her wounded side.
“You know, I didn’t want to hurt you, Lia. But you’re becoming a distraction. And we won’t let anything distract us from bringing this curse under our command. Besides, you’ve pissed me off.”

She’s coming closer. I fight to free myself from Mr. Havelock’s hold, but he’s too strong and he’s bending my tail again.

“Father, will it disrupt the ritual if I kill this meddling bitch before I take care of the human?”
Melusine asks, a crazed edge to her voice.

“No, my dear.”
His words cause water to ripple against the back of my neck.
“As long as we kill the human descendant before sunrise, spilling her blood first won’t matter in the slightest.”

That’s all she needs to hear. She gives her tail a mighty kick and comes at me, dagger raised.

I close my eyes. I don’t want to see her as I die.

I’m sorry, Clay. I love you.

I hope with everything I am that somehow, as I’m dying, he’ll get away.

Water rushes toward me. I try to prepare myself for the pain of the blade.

Guttural screams fill the throne room.

But they aren’t mine.

My eyes fly open in time to see Melusine twist the dagger deeper into Clay’s stomach. He’s right in front of me, his arms spread wide to shield me.

“That works, too,”
Melusine says.

Shocking realization hits. He saved me. Clay swam in front of the blade and saved my life.

And now he’s screaming. Covering the wound with his hands. Just as Melusine promised, the magic from the dagger inflicts burning agony.

I must be bucking like a bull shark to free myself, because Mr. Havelock wrestles me to the floor, forcing himself on top of me. He uses his body as a barrier to keep me from Clay. He holds me down by the throat, and uses his powerful puce tail to crush my own against the sharp shards of shell decorating the floor.

His eyes are wild, power-hungry.
“You can’t stop this.”

His cold hands tighten around my throat, pressing both my windpipe and my gills shut. I can’t breathe. My struggles do nothing but pound my head hard against the floor. I miss a raised chunk of quartz to my temple by mere millimeters.
He’s right,
I think, as my vision goes black around the edges.
I can’t stop this.

“Stop assuming you can’t do it.” Clay’s voice rings out in my mind. I’m back in our first self-defense lesson. “If using this move could help save your life, could protect someone you love from getting hurt, you would do it. And you’d get it right. You can do this, Lia.”

I know what to do.

I stop struggling. I close my eyes and force all my focus, all my adrenaline into the most important transformation of my life.

My tail splits into legs, and I wrap them around my attacker to pull him closer, throw him off balance. Mr. Havelock never expected me to use my legs—it’s too human an option for him to consider—so he’s doubly thrown off.

I grab his left wrist and forearm the way Clay taught me, and pull until he falls forward. With his hands no longer strangling me, I breathe in the oxygen-infused salt water and the blackness in my vision clears.

I put one leg down and angle my hips just like I practiced, then reach around and use Mr. Havelock’s own arm to place him in a chokehold.

My other hand hooks under the middle of his tail, and I flip us over—just like I did on the mats in Clay’s den.