Sarah Porter - The Twice Lost

“Naturally, though, she’s aware that other mermaids don’t share her ideas about the supreme value of human life.” There was something in Ellison’s voice that confused Dorian. He sounded prickly and on edge. Ellison was usually very steady, calm even when he was insulted.

“Well, sure. But there’s no way Luce would have sung to those people! Another mermaid would, maybe, but . . .” He was so agitated, Dorian realized, that he’d completely missed what Ellison was implying. Suddenly he understood. “You think she let them tape her on purpose? To convince everyone that mermaids don’t go around killing?”

“I think it’s quite clear that this was a deliberate maneuver, yes. The way she comes to the surface and looks back at the camera . . . There’s no other reasonable explanation.”

“Luce wouldn’t think like that.” Dorian couldn’t imagine that Luce would be so calculating. “She acts kind of crazy sometimes, like she’s stupid brave, but public relations? That’s just not what she’s like.” It sounded lame, even to him. But he felt sure. Whatever the explanation was for Luce’s behavior, it wasn’t what Ellison thought.

“People are enthralled. Simply by watching this clip.” Ellison sounded like he was complaining about it.

“I know,” Dorian snapped.

“Infatuated.”

“I know. ” Was that what Steve was? Infatuated?

“And this mermaid . . . Luce . . . she knew that they would be.”

“ No. No, she didn’t.” Dorian thought about it. “She knew her face was magic, but that just made her uncomfortable. Luce is pretty shy. It wasn’t something she ever tried to use.”

Something in Ellison’s silence made it clear that he didn’t believe a word Dorian was saying. “You see, Dorian? You have valuable insights to offer after all.” There was a distinct edge of sarcasm to the words.

“You think I’m full of shit, though.” Dorian was curt.

“I think you’re still trying, in whatever ways you can think of, to protect her. It’s understandable enough, given what we can see of her, but . . .”

Dorian felt even more annoyed. It sounded like Ellison thought he’d only loved Luce for her beauty and gracefulness, that he’d simply been out of his mind, addled by enchantment like all the idiots who were sitting in front of their computers now, gaping slack-jawed at that clip. It wasn’t like that with us, Dorian wanted to say. I actually knew her. It’s different. “I’m just telling you what she’s like. You don’t know anything about her.”

“I know what I can see.” Ellison gave a strained laugh. “Dorian . . .”

“Yeah?”

“How could you stand it?”

She didn’t do it for public relations, Dorian thought. She did it for me! But he didn’t think he could say that to anyone.

By now, he was sure, Zoe must be staring at the same video. She’d see Luce rise, and turn, and look into her eyes.

The brilliant sun, the stunned human faces, the camera’s black glass eye were all fixed on her. Luce’s first impression was that everything in the world was staring straight at her; she cringed, anxiety prickling through her aching body. Swimming hurt so much that she’d surfaced to get a grip on the pain before pushing herself onward again. Then she’d stopped where she was for a second, struck motionless by a sudden insane hope. If she talked to these people on the dock, then could they somehow get a message to her father? At least let him know she was alive?

She didn’t even know where her father was now, though. And starting a conversation with strange humans would only lead to problems. The sunlight on the water was so bright that Luce’s outstretched arms appeared to be sleeved in fire. She shook her body and dived, forcing herself to move faster in spite of the pain.

They’d definitely been pointing that camera at her. Maybe she should feel guilty about that; it was an outrageous violation of the secrecy the mermaids guarded so carefully. But if the government already wanted them dead, well, maybe it was time everyone knew. The humans should know that mermaids were their own daughters, the girls they’d driven away.

Maybe that was what she should have done when she’d seen them filming her.

Explain.

Tell them the whole story.

Luce kept wearily on. After a while she remembered to sing again, disguising her voice so that it sounded almost like wind. Calling. She couldn’t go quickly at all, and she needed to rise to the surface for air much more frequently than she normally would. The day passed without her covering nearly as much distance as she thought she should have. She found a secluded beach, slept a few hours and ate a little. She didn’t want to risk passing out while she was swimming again. Then she forged on just as dawn was breaking.

Luce felt different than she had for the past few weeks, suddenly awake and aware, her pain sharply defined. The world stared back into her eyes. The coast was wilder again, and Luce began to search for caves, singing her alarm-call all the while. It looked like promising territory.

She was skimming twenty yards below the surface through a green zone thick with seaweed when she saw tiny diving shapes, still very far ahead of her, their arms stretching out as they swam. Luce wanted to hurry to greet them, but the bruises on her stomach throbbed with every flick of her tail. If only she were well, she could have been with them in moments instead of drifting sluggishly forward like this. It looked like they were ducking into a cave, one after the other. Their bodies showed jet black against the gold-green dawn shining down behind them.

A cloud passed, and the water dimmed. The figures only looked blacker than before. Luce paused where she was and watched as a mermaid eddied in place for a moment. Her tail looked too short, Luce thought. Then as Luce watched the tail spread wide, split in two, bent in a way that was much too angular, and kicked what she’d thought were fins . . . The diver vanished. Luce tried to stay calm. Most human divers were harmless, weren’t they?

At that moment mermaid song began to blast and warble through the water, strongly audible even from behind rocky walls. It didn’t begin slowly and seductively. Instead it was harsh, brittle, and panicked, coming from several throats at once. Luce felt the shock of that terrified song racing through her and lashed her tail, trying to reach them. There must be a dozen soldiers in their cave, maybe more, all armed with those guns that shot silver blades. She’d have to do her best to fight, any way she could; she’d send the water crashing against them, batter them unconscious before they could kill . . .

But before she’d gone a dozen yards the songs had turned into screams. Half a dozen screams, more, loud at first then fading toward silence like a loud chord struck on a piano and left to decay.

Then there were only two voices Luce could pick out. Then one. And she was still so far away, still fighting the seizing muscles of her tail, still straining as her heart smacked at her ribs.

That final screaming voice was harsh and furious, and it wouldn’t stop. Luce was getting closer now, curtains of seaweed brushing around her torso. They must have their weapons trained on that screaming mermaid, Luce thought in confusion. Why hadn’t they already shot her? Were they torturing her?

Luce hovered at the mouth of the cave, sick with dread. The rock bent and she couldn’t see what was going on; she huddled back into the seaweed. She was so outnumbered. If she was going to rescue the girl in there she needed to have some kind of plan; anything would be better than a crazed dash into the center of a massacre!