The Awakening

By

Alp Mortal

The Carter Seagrove Book Boutique Edition

Text Copyright© 2014 Alp Mortal

All Rights Reserved

Contents

Author’s Note 5

Cover Image Acknowledgement 6

The Tempest 8

Chapter One – Poseidon’s Wrath 10

Chapter Two – Sven’s transgression 12

Chapter Three – Rescued 16

Chapter Four – Questions 20

Chapter Five – The story of Trillion and Sven the Elder 23

Chapter Six – Aftermath 27

Chapter Seven – Consequences and decisions 31

Chapter Eight – Farewell 35

Chapter Nine – Journey to the cave of the merpeople 40

Chapter Ten – Not the reception that was expected 46

Chapter Eleven – Captive 51

Chapter Twelve – Ransom 54

Chapter Thirteen – Drotha 59

Chapter Fourteen – Exchange 62

Chapter Fifteen – Departure 66

Chapter Sixteen – The Blade 72

Chapter Seventeen – Strange companions 75

Chapter Eighteen – The Gates of Sven and the Northern Realm 83

Chapter Nineteen – The audience with Atlantis 93

The Changeling Moon 99

Chapter One – The Sea Horses 101

Chapter Two – The Riders 109

Chapter Three – The Orca and the Ice Prison 116

Chapter Four – Flight back to Atlantis 126

Chapter Five – A night and a day 136

Chapter Six – The Awakening 149

Chapter Seven – What has happened to me? 152

Chapter Eight – The Changeling’s Moon 159

Chapter Nine – Sven the Younger 169

Chapter Ten – Whale Dance 172

Chapter Eleven – ‘Honour your gifts’ 176

Chapter Twelve – To the Plain of Ur 182

Chapter Thirteen – Sven’s Progress 186

Chapter Fourteen – Parley 188

Chapter Fifteen – The redemption of Sven 192

Chapter Sixteen – The chamber of horrors 197

Epilogue 205

The Pallasite Star 208

Chapter One – There was a time 210

Chapter Two – Questions 215

Chapter Three – Telbat’s folly 224

Chapter Four – Erik 227

Chapter Five – The Leviathan is abroad 231

Chapter Six – Sven lives? 233

Chapter Seven – Meet thy Maker 239

Chapter Eight – One of his gifts 243

Chapter Nine – Briscoe, King of the Southern Reaches 244

Chapter Ten – Chessmen 249

Chapter Eleven – Lovers 252

Chapter Twelve – The giving and receiving of gifts 256

Epilogue 269

Author’s Note

'The Awakening' is the single volume that contains the stories, 'The Tempest', 'The Changeling Moon' and 'The Pallasite Star'. The stories have been combined into one volume to make it easier for you, the reader, to enjoy this epic love affair between men and gods.

The individual stories published here remain unaltered from the original editions.

I really hope you enjoy this story. Feedback is always welcome.

Thank you

Alp Mortal

alpmortal@hotmail.com

www.alpmortal.weebly.com

Find the book boutique at:

www.carterseagrove.weebly.com

and come and join us in the forum:

www.carterseagrove.proboard.com

Cover Image Acknowledgement

The cover photograph copyright by:

Sergejs Rahunok via fotolia.com

The model photograph is used for illustration purposes only. The author does not know the model or his sexual orientation.

The Tempest

Part One of The Awakening

By

Alp Mortal

Text Copyright© 2014 Alp Mortal

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One – Poseidon’s Wrath

The storm raged all night, from the moment the sun set to the moment the sun rose the following morning; in living memory nothing like it could be recalled. The waves tore the beach apart; towering infernos of seething brine crashing down and sending the wooden supports of the groyne five hundred yards in shore; it rained shingle and Jessie’s boat was flung into the harbour and smashed into a thousand pieces against the granite wall, the only thing that could withstand the onslaught.

In the morning everything was covered with sand and seaweed, huge clumps of it that had been ripped out of the sea bed and hurled hundreds of feet, a clinging, stinky mass; huge gouges scarred the beach like teeth or claw marks, revealing the bedrock thirty feet beneath, the groyne was gone and the glass atop the lighthouse was shattered. The lighthouse stood one hundred and fifty feet above the sea!

The harbour side village looked like a bomb had exploded in its midst, smashed windows, shutters hanging from one hinge, sheds upturned, boats on roofs of garages, the phone box lay on its side and everywhere the stench of rotting seaweed and the cries of gulls many of whom had broken wings and lay flapping pathetically on the ground where Joe, the harbour master, wrung their necks.

They called it “Poseidon’s Wrath”.

Jeremiah’s house was not in the harbour but some way out of the village about halfway between the settlement and the lighthouse, afforded a little protection by a stand of copper beech which now resembled a pile of sticks but at least the windows on that side were intact. He ventured out, or at least as far as he could for the sand lay three feet deep to his front door burying the vegetable garden, only the roof of the greenhouse was visible and the car was upended and in the stream, like it had taken a nose-dive. He fetched a shovel and dug a channel to the beach that was devoid of sand for the most part.

The beach in front of his house was littered with crab baskets, lobster pots and thousands of smashed oyster shells. The sea was as calm as a mill pond, not a ripple spoiled the glass like surface but the colour of that sea, oh my goodness, the colour of a bruise; dried blood red and bilious yellow, sick green and haemorrhaging violet, pockets of inky black and throttled blue; a sea of contusions.

He ventured a little farther and found the remains of the lifeguard shack, part of the sign; it read “_ _f e_ _ a r _”, he wasn’t afraid, just stunned; the shredded remains of the canvas chair that stood out front during the season; the red flag, Bastion’s enamel mug and the dog, “Stobart”, it’s back broken; he covered the corpse with seaweed and left a marker.

Utter desolation, desperation and destruction; the aftermath of a thousand landmines all having been triggered at once.

The sun rose over the edge of the coastal downs and bathed the scene in the clearest golden light and the sky was the colour of Wedgewood blue. He picked his way along the beach towards the village hoping to find Bastion to tell him about the dog; as he passed the Chine he saw it was full of sand and debris, the foot bridge was gone and the steps were buried save the last two treads, eighty feet above his head. He couldn’t make it to the village for a huge rift had been opened that barred his way so he turned back and as he did he saw the pile of seaweed nearest to him move. He approached, what could it be he asked himself; maybe fish, a basking shark, another dog; what he found was no less astonishing than for the fact that it was alive at all; a man, a young man; shirtless and buried from the waist down.

Chapter Two – Sven’s transgression

Like all young mermen, Sven was happiest swimming with the dolphins; he alone could keep up with the alpha male and they frequently out-paced the rescue launch which was the fastest boat on the water; not that the crew would have seen him, he swam just beneath the male dolphin. They might have seen a shadow, believed his form was a trick of the light but usually he was mistaken for another dolphin and that was how it was meant to be.

Unlike all other young mermen, indeed, all other merpeople, his tail was the most scintillating and electric blue; in the sun it dazzled as if covered with crystals. His upper body was the colour of mother of pearl and smooth like the inside of the shell; his muscles rippled like so many eels writhing under the surface of the water; his hair was golden like sand, out of the water and left to dry it curled and shone like the sun. His mother said he had the face of an angel; softer than the more angular faces of his brethren; it set him apart and fuelled the rumours that he was not of Poseidon’s loins whereas all other merpeople in Middle Waters were, no, his mother had surely coupled with Atlantis; it was never spoken of but he knew he was different.

“Sven”; it was an old merman name, the name of the merman who swam out of the northern seas and fought with Trillion to free the merpeople of the middle waters from their bondage; a proud name and one this Sven struggled to live with.

If his tail, his parentage and his name set him apart then his absence from the sleeping den most nights surely marked him out as different and possibly dangerous but most certainly foolhardy; none flaunted the rule and escaped the trident’s bite for long.

He’d spent the day doing what young mermen do; ripping holes in fishermen’s nets to release the catch; tying boots to fishing hooks and giving the line a tug and coaxing lobsters and crabs out of their woven prisons. He swam with the dolphins and visited his mother, presenting her with a beautiful shell. But a secret he had; ill kept for the rest of the youngsters knew it; he cavorted with the raymen; the black and sinister shapes that inhabited the edge of the coastal waters; perhaps his tail had earned him recognition but every evening he swam with them and raided the oyster beds; deftly prising out the lustrous jewels more easily than the raymen could with their thick and clumsy wings.

He returned always before dawn and feigned sleep but everyone knew where he had been and what he had been doing. That day, just before sunset he was summoned by Poseidon himself; it sent a tremor through all of middle waters and everyone stopped their various occupations and quietly contemplated the possible fate of the young merman; Ingrid went to his mother and they held hands; the very sea held its breath;

“You summoned me great Lord” said Sven as he entered the chamber; not afraid for he believed himself beyond the justice of his people; he was special and altogether reckless;

“I did” answered Poseidon with his back turned

“What does my Lord command?” asked Sven with due reverence for a summons was a rarity although not that uncommon

“The honest truth; the cockleshells tell me that you cavort with the raymen and raid the oyster beds…is this true?”

“I sometimes meet with the raymen; that is true”

“Have you raided the oyster beds with them?”

“I have been with them to the oyster beds that is true”

“Have you ever; whilst in the company of the raymen, stolen a pearl from one of the oysters?”

“Yes Lord, I have”

“Why?”

“They ignore the differences that set me apart from my brothers and value my skills”

Poseidon knew all and for all the thundering rage he could display he was often kind and lenient;

“What sets you apart from your brothers?”

“I have a blue tail; a softer face and everyone says it is because my mother coupled with Atlantis; I am faster than any other and I am called by the oldest of the Northern names…”

“Yes; these gifts would set a light under the rumour tongues but I wonder why you care so much; great journeys and deeds await you after you turn a man”

“I suppose I am impatient”

“Foolhardy certainly; how could I send you to the Southern Reaches if your character is besmirched with these wicked acts that you yourself have admitted to; stealing pearls and cavorting with the raymen are punishable by death if I so choose”

“What would you have me do Lord?” asked Sven in supplication

“Break off all relations with the raymen immediately…”

“But Lord; I am betrothed to…”

Sven realised he had said too much;

“Betrothed? To whom?”

“No one; nothing; I will do as you command” he added quickly

“Betrothed to whom?” Poseidon asked in an even and measured tone but the bedrock beneath his trident was cracking sending shockwaves through the realm;

“Abrial…”

“Abrial…ABRIAL…” and the thunderous roar shattered every mirror in the palace

The sea began to swell; the cavalry fish that attended Poseidon darted out and headed for the sanctuary of the cave along with everyone and everything else that heard the name for all knew the terrible significance of it;

“Tell me it is a pretentious lie” he added

“I have told the truth Lord; I am betrothed to Abrial”

“Then you must be insane”

“I am in love”

“LOVE!” and Poseidon smote the seabed and a rift opened and shot out across the sandy floor as if slashed with Atlantis’ very own blade;

“Yes…”

“Trillion’s seed lives in Abrial’s line, Trillion who enslaved our race and used our mothers to breed mutants for his wars with men; and you tell me you are in love!”

“I know the history of our people; my name is “Sven”…”

“Then do your ancestor the honour of breaking off the arrangement and be grateful I do not flay the very tail from your body for your impudence”

“I will not”

“FOOL!” and he smote the seabed again and chunks of the palace tumbled down like huge apples falling out of the tree;

“It is my heart and I alone will choose to whom I give it”

Poseidon laughed; and then the sea boiled up around him and in one, mighty, eruption of his full power he bellowed;

“BANISHED…..”

A gigantic bubble of energy spread out from the palace; it hit the coral reef and reduced it instantly to powder, vast fields of seaweed, chunks of the bedrock the size of ocean liners and millions of shells were catapulted out of the realm and we know what happened next. In the midst of it all was Sven crying “Abrial…save me”.

But Abrial lay bleeding to death, set upon by brother and sister alike for the grotesque union and the consequences of Sven’s admission tore the accord between raymen and merfolk asunder and enmity centuries buried at once was released and the two kingdoms reeked of the fetid gas of hatred.

Chapter Three – Rescued

Jeremiah reached out his hand tentatively towards the man to see if indeed he was still alive.

He touched the skin and an ear splitting screech pierced the silence; shattering all the remaining windows in the village and the lighthouse lamp exploded. Jeremiah was thrown back and momentarily dazed but as he recovered his senses, although his ears were ringing, he saw the man move and the hands stretch out; the man levered himself up a little and raised his head, focussing on Jeremiah, five or so feet away;

“Were you in a boat?” asked Jeremiah

The man looked confused;

“The storm; were you out in a boat?” Jeremiah repeated

“No…swimming”

“The storm has destroyed almost everything; you were incredibly lucky…”

The man smiled;

“Poseidon banished me…”

Jeremiah just looked, the words made no sense;

“My cottage is not too far from here; we can’t reach the village; can you get up and walk?”

Sven laughed;

“Why are you laughing?” asked Jeremiah feeling a little uncomfortable

“You will see; but others must not; are we alone?”

“Yes; for now; the town is trying to put itself back together”

“If I reveal my true self to you, you must promise me that you will not go squawking it to the townspeople like a gull…”

“I promise but I don’t understand; who are you?”

“My name is Sven and I am a merman…”

“A…”

“Merman; believe all those stories for we exist”

“You have a tail?”

Instead of replying Sven whipped his tail from side to side to free himself from the seaweed and shingle cocoon he was in and the blue tail shone like a thousand kingfishers had taken flight;

“Holy God!”

“I have a tail”

“We must get you back to the cottage; but how?”

“I can crawl for I think you can’t carry me”

“It’s there” said Jeremiah pointing at the cottage three hundred yards further down the beach

“I cannot crawl that far, the stone will take these scales off like a knife”

Jeremiah spied a deckchair that had survived the holocaust

“I could drag you, at least part of the way; we’ll use the chair as a kind of stretcher”

“Get it; if I am out of the water for too long my skin will dry and blister”

Jeremiah fetched the chair and laid it beside the man who manoeuvred himself onto it face down. Jeremiah grasped the fabric and began to pull but he made no progress save to bring beads of sweat to his brow;

“I’m at least twice as heavy as you” said Sven

“As I pull then push with your hands; together I’m sure we can do it”

They tried and eventually got a system going where they managed to inch along but after a hundred yards Jeremiah was exhausted;

“Stop!”

Jeremiah collapsed breathing hard and sweating profusely;

“Are all men as weak as you?” said Sven

“Are all mermen as ungrateful as you?”

“Cover my tail with seaweed and rest if you must”

Jeremiah gathered clumps of the stinking weed and covered the tail throwing himself down again to regain his breath;

“You said Poseidon banished you…”

“Yes; he did, for my sin of cavorting with the raymen and stealing pearls”

Jeremiah heard the words but they meant very little except for the stealing part; he lay for fifteen minutes until his pulse quietened;

“Come; we’re nearly half way, the worst is over and nearer the house there is more sand and it will be easier to pull you”

“Thank you” said Sven with a little awkwardness for he never felt weak

They heaved and pushed until they were almost at the copper beeches;

“The ground is littered with oyster shells; they will cut me to ribbons”

“Hang on there I have an idea”

Jeremiah raced off to the ruins of the shed and retrieved the wheelbarrow;

“Can you haul yourself in; at least the tail?”

Sven laughed but good-naturedly;

“Weak but inventive; hold it steady”

He clambered aboard as best he could and had the tail in the bucket so that he could propel himself with his arms still; Jeremiah pushed and between them they made it to the edge of the garden that was covered three feet deep in sand;

“I can make it alone from here but I need to submerge my tail else it will start to decay”

“Make it in to the house and on the left there is a bathroom, we can put the shower on it”

Sven slithered forward and propelled himself along quickly but the rasping sand made him cry out in pain;

“In there”

Scales were beginning to be prised off and the skin beneath was quickly rubbed sore and all along the hall there was a trail of blood and everywhere the stench of rotting seaweed;

“Get in the bath and I’ll put the shower on; hot or cold?”

“Cold!”

The water had a near instant effect and pretty soon Sven was quiet and his face shed the contortions of pain;

“Thank you again”

“You’re welcome…”

“What is your name?” asked Sven

“Jeremiah”

The screech cracked every tile in the bathroom and blew out the window.

Chapter Four – Questions

“Stop!” screamed Jeremiah

Sven stopped;

“What in God’s name…”

“Your name is a legend amongst my people”

“Your screech is going to bring mine rushing down here”

“I’m sorry; it’s just the fact that you rescued me; it’s like the fairy-tale becomes truth”

“What fairy-tale?”

“A young merman was out swimming and was caught in a violent storm; he was thrown against the reef and knocked unconscious; the storm carried his body ashore and left him on the beach; the sun was drying his skin and he was minutes from certain death when a boy; Jeremiah, happened across him and saved his life by hauling him back into the surf, spent from the exertions he couldn’t save himself from the rip tide and the merman was too weak to help; the boy died, drowned. The merman took his body back to his people and told them what had happened; they buried the boy under the reef; each year, on the anniversary of the death of the boy; the merpeople gathered and gave thanks leaving gifts on the beach where the boy had found the merman”

Both were quiet for a little time;

“Do you need anything?” asked Jeremiah

“I do not need to drink; least, not yet, I can absorb enough water through my skin but I am hungry…”

“What do you eat?”

“I need pearls”

“Not exactly a cheap date are you?”

“A what?”

“Never mind…I have no pearls”

“The beach outside is littered with thousands of shells I would be very surprised if you didn’t find a few; the shells are from Poseidon’s own garden…”

Jeremiah went back outside and quickly returned;

“I need a bag” but this was more to himself and half an hour later he returned with the bag full of pearls”

“It’s a King’s ransom; some of them are the size of eggs”

“I need only two or three; they will help me to heal”

“What else do you eat besides pearls?”

“Pearls prolong our life but we also eat the beards from mussel shells and gnaw cuttle fish bone; sometimes very young kelp…”

“So you’re kind of vegetarian; I mean you don’t eat a living animal; fish”

“No; we look after the fish and the other animals in the sea”

“How’s your tail?”

“Healing fast”

“Why did Poseidon banish you; I understood the stealing part but not the other”

“Ah; that’s a long story; your King Henry was on the throne then”

“The eighth?”

“The fat one…”

“The eighth; how long do you live?”

“I should expect to live for three hundred years”

“Three…how old are you now?”

“Fifty”

“You look seventeen”

“We age differently to men”

“How do you know so much about us?”

“We watch you and we had dealings in the past”

“You speak my language”

“Yes, we speak many human languages”

Jeremiah sat quietly on the bathroom floor trying to take it all in;

“What happens now?”

“To decide that we need to go back six hundred years to the time of Trillion”

Chapter Five – The story of Trillion and Sven the Elder

“Trillion was a monster; a mutant; half merman and half rayman; no one knows exactly how he came to be; reviled and feared he grew; hideous and cunning; courting Poseidon and Atlantis on the one hand and Drotha on the other…”

“Drotha?”

“The king of the raymen”

“When you say raymen do you mean “sting rays”?”

“Yes; the shadows of the deep”

“He played both sides but he was angling for the ruling seat of both kingdoms; merfolk and raymen were not natural allies; but up to then there was no emnity; Trillion changed all that and he wanted above all things to dominate man”

Sven shifted and the water cascaded over his tail and sent a thousand rainbows across the room;

“Your tail is amazing” interrupted Jeremiah

“It is unique; no other merman or woman has a tail of blue”

“How is it that you have it then?”

“A mutation probably” answered Sven choosing to avoid the rumour that his mother had coupled with Atlantis

“Sorry; please continue…”

“There was only one way that Trillion could enslave the merpeople and promote the rights of raymen and wage war on you humans and that was to secure the only source of pearls and limit our food; he egged on the raymen to do battle and they won control of the pearl fisheries, not without heavy losses but by withholding our primary source of food he made us weak and bargained heavily for the pearls he did allow us to take…”

“But there are other fisheries right?”

“Yes; many leagues away; in the Southern Reaches; your Southern Oceans; we were too weak to make the journey”

“I thought Poseidon was all powerful”

“In the bargaining he had to relinquish certain powers and rights so that his people wouldn’t starve”

“Why did the raymen trust Trillion?”

“He gave them something they could only dream of…merwomen mates”

“He…”

“Precisely; he forced merwomen to mate with the raymen and bred battalions of mutants like himself to wage battle against man; getting ever stronger”

“That’s horrible”

“The merwomen were slaughtered; mostly by the merfolk and many asked for death as a release from the horror and the shame”

“When you said your tail was a mutation did you mean that it was a…”

“Vestige? No; in actual fact; my mother is believed to have coupled with Atlantis and not Poseidon; that is the reason”

“Did you never ask her?”

“Would you?”

“I guess not; why Atlantis; he isn’t a merman, is he?”

“He is a god like Poseidon; lesser than he for Poseidon is one of the twelve but powerful nonetheless”

“How were the merfolk saved?”

“Before the war we harvested and sent pearls to the Northern Realm; they do not flourish there; we had many friends and relations in the freezing waters of the North. After Trillion took control, the pearls stopped and a northern merman came to find out why the supply line had failed; his name was “Sven”…”

“You are named after him?”

“Apparently; it is a proud name and rarely given; it isn’t an easy name to live with”

“A war between Trillion and men…I don’t recall that from our history…”

“It was played out in the shadows; Trillion bred mutants who could masquerade as men; he called them the “Ambassadors”; much of the conflict was hidden behind human wars and bloodshed”

“What did Trillion want?”

“To marry the Queen”

“Elizabeth?”

“The red headed one, yes; he courted her; gave her the finest black pearls but she could see into his heart and knew he was a traitor”

“They met?” said Jeremiah in complete astonishment

“Yes; no doubt he was heavily disguised and probably much of the debate was held through the chief Ambassador, Freen”

“I wonder what she wanted”

“To rule under the waves and atop?”

“How did Sven triumph in the end?”

“He disguised himself as one of the mutants and poisoned their food; in the end he plunged Poseidon’s trident through Trillion’s heart; the malevolence released destroyed Atlantis’ home where Trillion had taken up residence; Poseidon gave him the princedom of the Northern Realm for bringing salvation to the Middle Waters…”

“But this was hundreds of years ago…they still live?”

“They are immortal”

“And Sven?”

“Returned to the North with Atlantis’ daughter Tria”

“So stealing pearls has a heavy penalty”

“Stealing pearls and cavorting with the raymen is treason in Poseidon’s eyes but he did not banish me for that”

“For what then?”

Sven realised he’d said too much but continued;

“I became betrothed to Abrial; it was for that reason”

“Why?”

“Trillion’s seed lives in Abrial’s line; we could have spawned a mutant more powerful than Trillion himself”

“What happened to her?”

“Abrial is neither male nor female; I expect Abrial has been put to death”

“If Abrial is neither male nor female how would you have mated?”

Sven raised an eyebrow;

“I think we’ll cover basic merman physiology another time”

“Oh, right, sorry…so how does all this end?”

“Atlantis is the key but he resides in the North with the descendants of his daughter; I must go to him and plead my case and perhaps he will grant me pardon to live out my life there”

“Why would he forgive you?”

“He is my father…”

Which Jeremiah thought was probably the least good reason given that the Northern Realm would be getting hungrier by the hour.

Chapter Six – Aftermath

“I must eat” said Jeremiah

“I’m fine here; I should rest to hasten the healing and I need to think”

Jeremiah left the merman in his tub and headed to the remains of the kitchen picking up the kettle but finding he had no electricity or gas; in the end he drank a pint of milk that had been spared and made a tuna fish sandwich; feeling like a cannibal.

“I should go to Bastion; he’ll be wondering where the dog is and I should help in the village; I’m surprised no one has been here yet…”

He wandered back to the bathroom;

“I need to go to the village and tell the Lifeguard I found his dog dead; they may need help there with the recovery; I might be gone some hours”

“I will rest; fear not, I shall not go yet and not before I have the chance to say goodbye; in any event I want to thank you for saving me; I’m sorry I called you weak”

“It doesn’t matter…I’ll be back as soon as I can; the bag of pearls is by your side”

“It was Trillion who started the fashion of dissolving pearls in wine; he believed it was a powerful aphrodisiac; if the Queen had dissolved her black pearls and drank the heady concoction rather than wearing them then history would have been very different…”

“Thank God she liked jewellery”

Jeremiah left and headed for the road to the village; the rift that had prevented him from getting to the town along the beach cut across the road but it was narrow and he jumped it. As he approached he felt he was walking into the aftermath of the holocaust itself; covered with the stinking mass of weed and dead gulls lay everywhere; bar two or three that Joe had not found; he wrung their necks himself. All was eerily silent.

The houses that lined the edge of the harbour were broken like shells; nothing moved save the fall of bricks and tiles and glass. In the street behind, where the artisans had their workshops a few of the houses still stood; many had had their rear walls caved in and looked like the cavities in a rotten gum; black and jagged. Finally he saw signs of life in the Square, a few townsfolk were picking their way through the rubble; he spied Bastion tending a man who was lying on the ground covered in blood;

“Bastion!”

“Jeremiah! I was sure you would have been killed”

“The copper beeches saved me from the worst; I found “Stobart”…”

“Dead?”

“Yes; on the beach; I’m so sorry”

“I have lost my dog; many have lost their lives or their loved ones and everything else they held dear”

“What can I do?”

“Go to the church; it is the only building that is still standing and safe; they need help tending the wounded and getting some food ready; there aren’t many left”

“Who has survived?”

Which sounded like an easier question under the circumstances;

“Joe…Ronald…Peter…Mary and ‘Beth are uninjured; there are twenty laying in the church in need of care; that is it as far as we can tell”

Jeremiah then recognised the men wandering about the square in search of survivors; they looked like ghosts;

“I will go to the church”

“I’ll be along presently; there isn’t anything more I can do here save say a kind word”

And Jeremiah avoided looking down at the face of the man that Bastion was cradling.

The church stood at the back of the village and was built of solid granite; it stood out amongst the carnage like an angel, a grey angel; a grim angel. Jeremiah headed in to find Mary or ‘Beth;

“Mary!”

“Oh dear God; you are spared”

“Thankfully yes; I saw Bastion in the Square; what can I do?”

“Rip these sheets into bandages; ‘Beth will have some soup ready soon…”

“I found “Stobart”…I’m sorry but he didn’t survive”

“I guessed he would be on the beach…where else would you expect to find the Lifeguard’s dog?”

“I covered the body and left a marker”

She didn’t say anything and there were no tears left to cry. Jeremiah ripped up the sheets and helped ‘Beth to serve the soup; gently spooning the liquid into the mouths of the injured; for some it would be their last meal.

“What else can I do Mary?”

“The Services will be here soon; Bastion managed to get the telephone working; tomorrow we need to meet to decide what to do”

“You mean leave or stay?”

“Yes; is it worth it?”

“We can re-build the townhouses”

“Who will live in them; we are but twenty-seven and none of us are that young”

“Did none of the children survive?”

“They were at Giselle’s party; the roof collapsed”

Only the constriction in his throat stopped him from throwing up;

“Go home Jeremiah; come back at noon tomorrow”

He cried all the way; stopping every few yards to give vent to all of his emotions; not that any of the children were his; but in a community of this size they were everyone’s children; he knew them all.

Twenty- seven survivors, including himself, out of three hundred and eighty-four; seven able bodied adults and twenty casualties, some of whom would not see the dawn; Poseidon’s wrath unleashed by the treason of the man he’d found on the beach; no sin in his mind could justify the outcome. A town had been destroyed and hundreds killed because a vain, stupid young merman had fallen in love.

Chapter Seven – Consequences and decisions

He entered the house and went to the door of the bathroom;

“Why did you fall in love with Abrial and not with one of your own kind?” he said

Sven looked puzzled for the question seemed out of place;

“The raymen did not judge me like my brothers; they valued my skills and did not hold my differences against me; I felt worthier…”

“How many merpeople live in your home?”

“About one hundred and forty…why do you ask…what did you find in the village?”

“I found twenty-six survivors out of nearly four hundred; all the children were killed; many of my friends, Poseidon caused their deaths because you fell in love with a ray…whether you go to the Northern Realm or not; I want to see Poseidon and hear what he has to say about sin…”

Sven looked down and only then did he feel, really feel, the weight of the responsibility which he was due to bear for the tragedy;

“You cannot go to Poseidon; my people or the raymen would kill you rather than risk you betraying their whereabouts; in any event; you’d never find it”

“Then you have to take me”

“I cannot go back; he will kill me; I have been banished”

“Then draw me a map”

“Stupid and weak”

“Take me or I’ll turn the water off and you’ll die here”

Silence descended and the air pulsed with the emotion of the moment and the energy caused the walls to warp or that’s how it seemed;

“You’d risk your life to ask a God the reason for his actions?”

“God or Devil; he killed them all and whether he cares I wish him to know the consequences of his actions”

“Collect as many pearls as you can”

“Do you not have enough to sustain you?”

“They are not for me; if you bring him the pearls he may spare you”

“I’m taking some to the village tomorrow to help pay for the recovery; there is a meeting at noon; after that I will return and then we will leave”

“How will we travel? You cannot swim that far”

“I cannot swim at all”

“Not swim!” exclaimed Sven

“It is superstition here; none learn to swim; Bastion looks out for the visitors who come in the summer, none of us ever go in”

“How then shall we go? Do you have a boat and diving apparatus?”

“Neither; you will have to carry me”

“Doubtless I could to the point on the sea above the entrance to the cave but how should you descend a thousand feet?”

“In our stories and fairy-tales, a mermaid can give a human the ability to breathe under water…is it true?”

Sven stuttered a little;

“Is it true?” repeated Jeremiah wondering if Sven’s reluctance to say yes or no was born out of his fear of returning

“It is true” Sven finally said

“Then give me the gift”

“It is not that easy”

“Why?”

“It requires a kind of bonding”

“What kind of bonding?”

“It is difficult to explain; I do not think I could bond with you”

“You had no qualms when you betrothed yourself to Abrial who was neither male nor female; bond with me; give me the gift and take me to Poseidon”

“I need to think; this is very dangerous; we could both be killed by the merfolk or the raymen; what good will it serve? Poseidon will surely not care about your losses”

“How many pearls do you think are left in his garden?”

“Judging by the number of shells on the beach; not that many”

“He will not kill me if I bring him food”

“Bartering with a God is no child’s play”

“If you don’t take me I’ll dissolve them all in vinegar and his children can die as mine have”

Jeremiah was astounded by his own words; he felt possessed of something alien and much bigger than himself;

“Neither stupid nor weak” said Sven

“Tomorrow morning I will collect all I can find; deliver some to the village and then I will return; bond with me and we shall leave; how long will it take to get to your home?”

“A day and a night if I was swimming alone; two days and two nights with you in tow”

“Be ready then”

“You do not yet understanding the nature of the bonding; you do not understand the danger you are courting”

“There is nothing left for me here; do you think I care?”

Nothing much else was said and Jeremiah retired for he was dead beat but not before he had removed the sack of pearls from Sven’s side;

“Do you think I will try and slip away while you sleep?”

“You cannot get to the water unaided and without pearls you will starve; I saved you; you owe me; taking me will be thanks enough; I’ll speak to Poseidon and deal with whatever comes after”

He left the merman contemplating those words and ascended to his bedroom that was freezing because the windows were all broken. He stuffed pillows and blankets in the ragged frames and wrapped himself in the duvet and despite everything he fell asleep almost instantly. His dreams were plagued with visions of sinister dark shapes and grotesque bodies, drunken, writhing creatures high on wine infused with black pearls, fucking each other with their forked tongues.

Chapter Eight – Farewell

At sunrise Jeremiah went to the beach and collected as many pearls as he could find; he filled the wheelbarrow. He took a shopping bag full to the village and handed them to Joe and Bastion before the meeting;

“The beach outside the cottage was littered with shells; take these, they must surely do some good; I cannot stay; there is something I must do to lay the soul of the village to rest”

They did not speak and all cried.

He carried Stobart’s body to the festival field and buried him; marking the grave with a makeshift sign; Bastion and Mary hadn’t had time;

“Mary; you alone know where all the people went that were born here but left; invite them all back; we will re-build the town; I shall return, but I have something I must do first”

“Don’t go Jeremiah; we are but seven standing; four of the twenty died last night”

“Please bear the loss Mary”

He left her and the gaping wound that was once his home and returned to the cottage;

“I have put all of the pearls in my rucksack; I can carry it on my back; we need to leave” he said to Sven

“Save six of the cherry sized ones; we will need them for the journey…are you sure you want to do this?”

“I will have an answer from Poseidon’s own lips”

“Then get ready”

“What do I need to do?”

Sven looked uncomfortable;

“Sven; what do I need to do?” he repeated

“Our bonding is much like the bonding during mating; I need to plant my seed deep in your body; there it will change you; you will be able to breathe under water; you will be able to swim and your will grow in strength, speed and stamina; without a tail you won’t be able to swim as fast as me so I will still need to tow you but it will be less arduous for us both; you’ll also be able to see under the water and hear me…”

“Why through mating; can I not swallow the “liquid”?” Jeremiah could barely say the word

“The acid in your stomach will destroy it”

“What is the way?”

“Lie on your side with your legs drawn up to your chest”

Almost as a way of filling the awkward space he asked;

“Will I feel the cold?”

“No, you won’t; and shed the clothes, they will weigh you down”

Jeremiah placed the rucksack by the back door and returned to the bathroom where he shed his clothes, for some reason he folded them and placed them neatly on the chair by the sink; he lay down on the cold, wet tiled floor and turned onto his side bringing his knees up to his chest;

“Do it” he said stoically with his eyes tight shut

He heard Sven slip out of the bath and the thud of  his tail as it landed on the floor reverberated around the cottage; he sensed Sven moving across the floor and as the merman got closer he felt pins and needles over his entire skin; there was no heat coming from the merman’s body;

“I have never done this so please forgive me if I hurt you”

“Just do it” he managed; the anticipation was paralysing

He heard a sound, not a very familiar sound and devoting some thought to where he had heard that sound before gave his mind at least some respite from the other thoughts he was trying to keep at bay;

He recounted the incident; he’d accompanied the vet, Greg, to a birthing at the stables; the sound he heard was not unlike the sound of the foal’s body slipping out of the mare’s womb;

“I am nearly ready” said Sven and his was closer, the merman slipped an arm around his waist drawing him tighter; it was the first time he had felt the merman’s skin save for the brief moment on the beach; it was as smooth as the inside of a shell and cool but the power throbbed in it;

“I am entering you now”

Something thick and blunt touched his anus, he shuddered involuntarily;

‘Try to keep still and relax”

He held his breath and tried to relax; he let out his breath slowly and breathed in slowly; the “thing” pressed against the opening; an agonising second or two later the invasion began;

“I will go deeper than any man could possibly go; you will feel no pain after a while, I will be too deep; if I “damage” you, then I apologise now…”

Jeremiah nodded and continued breathing in and out very slowly; the end of the “thing” slowly entered and his muscles rebelled for an instant but they were no match; in any event; it was slipping in and the sensations were all consuming; bewildering; mind numbing. The merman moved closer; pressing his body against Jeremiah’s; he felt the tail and the scales were not slick or soft like a fish’s; they were hard but flexible; more metal than organic, perhaps more like a snake’s skin but the thought of “snake” was not helpful so he tried to focus on the cold floor and the terrible smell of rotting seaweed and he attempted to recall the faces of the children, stitching the images together to create a kind of home movie; all the laughter and the silly antics playing out in his head but for all that he could not completely ignore the invasion or the pain and yet despite everything neither could he push other thoughts away; the fascination and the longing, abandoned years ago;

“I am deep; soon I will release my seed; you will feel a sensation; I cannot control the energy”

Jeremiah couldn’t speak and kind of nodded and seconds later he felt the merman go rigid and the “sensation” was like someone had struck him in the stomach with an iron fist;

“Christ!” he screamed through clenched teeth and he felt hot and sick

There was a moment of pure, unadulterated pain; the intensity of which he had never experienced before; it was quickly followed by the ecstatic agony of having the “thing” withdrawn and his muscles cried out and spasmed which sent shudders through his entire body;

“Lay still Jeremiah and let the seed do its work; its effect is near instant and we should not wait too long before we leave; you can breathe out of the water but like me you will suffer if exposed to the drying air”

The seed did its work and Jeremiah felt it; like a drug had been injected into his bloodstream, a powerful drug like heroine.

“I will fetch the barrow” he said, barely above a whisper as he slowly unfolded his legs and readied himself to stand

“There will be no need for it; you will be able to carry me now; you have the strength” said Sven as he slipped away

Jeremiah got onto his hands and knees and sought out the face of the merman; in so doing he allowed himself to glance at the man’s groin; there was nothing there, not even a bulge; Sven knew what he was thinking;

“It recedes into a special pouch in my body; the opening is very tight”

Embarrassed at being caught looking he got up and put the rucksack on his back;

“Let’s go”

“Swallow a pearl first”

He did, with some difficulty but as the stone hit his stomach he felt a surge of energy;

“Jesus!”

“Powerful and highly addictive to your kind”

Jeremiah strode forward and bent down to pick the merman up; he had no difficulty and straightened up as if he had picked up a baby and he was wearing the rucksack that weighed as much as a sack of potatoes. He walked out and down the path to the beach; he didn’t look back and he didn’t say a word but he was conscious of Sven looking at him; only once they had reached the surf did he return the look and said;

“How long do the effects of the bonding last?”

“A month; after which you must be above the water or you will drown; the strength may last a week, maybe less depending on your exertions, have the other pearls handy just in case…”

Jeremiah put the merman down in the surf so that he could adjust the straps of the rucksack and only then did he realise that the man could swim off and leave him standing there, albeit he had the pearls and the strength to defend himself if Sven harboured thoughts of wresting the bag from him; he shook his head to rid his mind of the thoughts and stepped forward feeling the water on his feet then his shins; it felt good!

Chapter Nine – Journey to the cave of the merpeople

He strode forward until the water was around his waist and he didn’t feel cold;

“Come out further until you can tread water; we need to agree how to do this; I think it will be better if you are beneath me, I can put my hands under you, laced across your chest; if you ride on my back I won’t be able to move my tail so easily”

“But I’m wearing the rucksack; you won’t be able to reach around me”

“Put the rucksack across your front and I can hold you by the straps”

They repositioned the rucksack and after ten minutes had a method worked out. Jeremiah was effectively slung beneath Sven who had hold of the straps; Jeremiah could not move his arms easily because the sack was across his chest so he held his arms at his side but he could kick his legs; however Sven had no use of his arms having hold of the sack and all the work had to come from legs and tail and Sven habitually used his arms to change direction; in the end, after various trials Jeremiah had the sack on his back and held onto Sven who could use his arms and they could both use their “legs” once they got the timing right; then they shot off like a dolphin, swimming just beneath the surface. For minutes Jeremiah held his eyes shut but when he did open them he was amazed at what he could see and the water did not sting his eyes like he expected. He could hear so much and Sven barely needed to talk in a whisper, in fact, Jeremiah believed that they communicated telepathically some of the time.

The pearls gave them strength, stamina and speed and they covered a hundred yards in less than ten seconds and soon the miles were eaten up and though he couldn’t turn to check, Jeremiah sensed that the coastline had long disappeared and now he was reliant on Sven to navigate them to the cave;

“This is truly amazing” was all he could say and “look there”

Sven was in his element; each thrust of his tail sent energy coursing through his veins and Jeremiah could feel the power and to him Sven seemed more animal than human now;

“Do we sleep?” asked Jeremiah unsure of the habits of merpeople

“I will for a short time; by sunset we will have reached the Range of Venus, an underwater mountain system; there are safe places to rest; but it is a full moon tonight and we should watch her rise; she is like a pearl and we call the full moon the “pearl moon”; it is the time of the month when we celebrate and if a merwomen wishes to bear a child this is this night she will couple with Poseidon…”

“Does Poseidon father all merchildren?”

“Yes; it protects the purity of our race and he imparts each child with the gifts they need to survive out of the sea, like the ability to breathe air; if a merman and merwoman mate it is usually just for the pleasure of itself, they can produce an offspring but the child can never leave the water”

“And Atlantis fathers all the children in the Northern Realm?”

“Yes”

“Who fathers them in the Southern Reaches?”

“Briscoe”

“So why are you the only merman with a blue tail if Atlantis fathers all the children in the North?”

“Because my mother was an offspring of Poseidon”

A thought flashed across Jeremiah’s mind but Sven read it;

“Yes; the Gods mate with their own children; except in my case”

“Will you mourn the loss of Abrial?” said Jeremiah thoughtfully

“I am pushing that out of my mind; we loved each other, of that there was no doubt; many; if not all, say it was wrong; we would have striven to help others to understand; now there is only hate and death”

“I am sorry; I didn’t mean to open the wound anew”

“It is kind of comforting to think of Abrial despite the pain; it will help me to heal…the Range of Venus is up ahead; we can rest and the moon will rise two hours after sunset”

They reached the range and dived, descending two or three hundred feet to find the cave which Sven had used before. A clump of kelp grew on the ledge just outside the entrance and provided a curtain and some privacy, once in the sanctuary of the cave Jeremiah allowed himself to sink to the sandy floor and he shrugged off the rucksack, it wasn’t that it was heavy, he just wanted to move his arms freely;

“We have made good progress Jeremiah; if we rest until moon rise and watch her ascent then start again we should reach the mercave by sunset tomorrow, with another break at noon”

“How will we announce ourselves?”

“The cave is guarded by the Sentins; they will carry the news to Poseidon, though I suspect he will know before we arrive; his curiosity will stay his hand and the trident, hopefully long enough for you to deliver the pearls and demand the answers to your questions; I cannot guess what he will do”

“I care not what comes after; you said you would go to the Northern Realm to seek sanctuary with your father; if Poseidon allows you to live, and I will plead your case, then I should like to go with you and for that matter to the Southern Reaches…”

“If he allows me to live and, for that matter, you. Those journeys take longer than a month”

Jeremiah knew what he meant;

“Perhaps Poseidon will give me the gifts without the need to bond”

“He will be overjoyed at the sight of the pearls, as to whether he is that generous, we shall see, I should be happy to stay alive and be allowed to go north”

They rested and just before moon rise they roused themselves and swam lazily to the surface to see the “Pearl Moon”. The sky was crystal clear and the light of the moon was already visible long before she rose above the horizon.

They were not alone; very soon it seemed the whole Ocean teemed with beasts all waiting for the moon to rise;

“Keep an eye out for the rays” said Sven

The moon rose; inching above the line of the horizon and indeed she looked like a pearl; perhaps it was the atmosphere but she shone with the same lustre, the same iridescence and all were spellbound;

“We should go whilst the rest are occupied” whispered Sven and they slipped away

They swam, as before and the moon touched the crest of their wake and it shone briefly and each time Sven whipped his tail it sent an eddy to the surface and the moon touched it and it looked like a flower blooming, a lily or an orchid.

They swam until noon and even Sven was tired and they rested under the overhang of a reef and swallowed another pearl; they did not sleep but Jeremiah closed his eyes;

“Why did your mother mate with Atlantis?” he asked aimlessly almost

“I think she wanted something different; but I think she saw a purpose, for her offspring”

“Was Poseidon angry?”

“No; not angry; I think she thwarted a bigger plan; she chose for herself and I think he would like to have chosen the one”

“Did she travel to the Northern Realm alone?”

“No; there was a gathering; a rare event; all the merpeople, at least all those who could make the journey, travelled to the Middle Waters”

“What was the occasion?”

“One of the northern folk, became betrothed, to the prince of the Southern Reaches; Orin is his name”

“And your mother coupled with Atlantis then?”

“So it is said”

“Why did he choose her?”

“She is especially beautiful; even by merfolk standards”

“You have inherited her looks then”

Jeremiah was suddenly embarrassed by his comment;

“They say that too…why have you not married?”

Jeremiah squirmed a little; wishing he hadn’t opened the topic;

“I guess I haven’t meet the right one yet”

“How old are you?”

“I am forty; I’m leaving it a little late to start…”

“It is never too late; when you have met the woman of your dreams you are like a teenager again”

“If you are fifty but live to three hundred you are but a child then in your people’s reckoning”

“Yes; well, youngster; manhood is attained at the age of seventy-five”

“If Abrial is dead what will you do? Live out your life in solitary confinement?”

“I don’t want to think about that…”

And that ended the conversation and they recommenced the journey shortly after. Even at their depth they could feel the heat of the sun on their backs;

“It grows warm” said Jeremiah

“We are considerably further south than your home now; in six hours we shall have reached the point above the cave; it will become dangerous; raymen patrol the waters although mostly after dark; still; we should be cautious”

“If we encounter raymen what do we do?”

“Neither of us has arms; just swim like your life depends upon it!”

As they grew closer to the point above the cave Jeremiah sensed tension in his companion; the manner of their reception sat squarely in the lap of Poseidon; only days had passed since Sven’s banishment; hardly time for the fault to have been forgiven and he doubted if it would ever be forgotten; he just hoped the food he was bringing would buy them both sufficient time.

“We approach; take the last pearl” said Sven in a voice which Jeremiah hadn’t heard but he realised it could only be the voice of a man who assumes he is going to die.

Chapter Ten – Not the reception that was expected

Sven slowed and then stopped; it was perhaps a half hour before sunset;

“The entrance to the cave is directly beneath us; one thousand feet down; you will feel the pressure of the water but it will not harm you whilst you are under the effects of the change; we will swim steadily down; when we approach the gate you will see the Sentins; name yourself and your purpose clearly and wait for them to give you permission to enter; on the other side of the gate there will be guards; do not fear any save Poseidon; in any case, none will have seen a man in the cave before; curiosity will give you your chance…”

“What will you do?”

“Pray…”

They descended and of course Jeremiah hadn’t ever seen under the water before this journey had begun; he had never entered the water above his knees! The light faded as they moved from the surface but it was quickly replaced by phosphorescent jelly fish that seemed to him to be lighting their way; the oddest kind of “cats’ eyes” in the road. At one point a huge shape loomed out of the semi-darkness;

“Hold still Jeremiah; it is a whale shark; perfectly harmless”

The beast was the size of three buses; its gaping mouth could have swallowed a car;

“Dear God; I never saw a beast so big”

“Wait until you see the blue whales in the Southern Ocean”

Jeremiah said nothing but hoped he got the chance.

As they approached Sven’s home he saw the destruction wrought by the wrath of Poseidon; a scene not dissimilar to the one he had left above;

“Can any fault justify so much anger?” he asked but more to himself

Sven said nothing; he needed no more of a reminder that this was his doing. The palace stood some way from the cave entrance; it had been part of the coral reef that now was gone; turned to dust; the debris was piled up everywhere and any movement caused clouds of the powder to rise up and in the phosphorescent light it looked strangely unworldly; like the pictures he’d seen of nebulae; the birthing place of the stars themselves. The tattered remains of the kelp groves told him where the seaweed had come from and the rift that cut across the beach emanated from the centre of the palace; from the very point where the trident had been touching the seabed. Bearing in mind how far they had swum, Jeremiah was no less awed as he was saddened and angry; the tremendous power had torn a hole in the seabed and only the cave remained unscathed yet that bore scars where the huge blocks of rock had flown passed it and grazed the surface like a ferocious beast’s talons.

Before he could ask what kind of beast the Sentins were they had arrived at the entrance to the cave;

“Halt!” one cried

The pair stopped. The Sentins were lobsters but not anything like the lobsters Jeremiah had seen on the quay side. The beasts were at least three or four times the size of a man and each had three heads and six claws; their bodies were covered with barnacles;

“Announce yourself”

“I am Jeremiah and I seek an audience with Poseidon”

“I am Sven and I seek forgiveness”

“Why have you given the human the gift?”

“He brings food for the merfolk”

“Proceed…”

They moved more like statues, animated statues, stiff and slow; they drew back and Jeremiah and Sven proceeded through the gateway; at the other side they were faced with six tridents; tridents of the guard;

“Sven; have you lost your mind?” said one

He ignored the remark;

“Who is this?”

“My name is Jeremiah and I bring food for the merfolk and I seek an audience with Poseidon”

“Why?”

“I have some questions for him”

“Gods do not parley with humans” one sneered

“This human will know why this God destroyed his home and killed his friends”

Jeremiah didn’t know where the voice came from; he wasn’t angry; the power in his voice sent a wave through the water;

“Gently Jeremiah” cautioned Sven

“Follow us”

The troop circled the pair and they headed off to the rear of the cave and it was only then that Jeremiah saw just how vast the cavern was and even with his new keen eyesight he could not see the walls or the roof;

“Sven…stay here, the human alone will be allowed to proceed; your arrival was not without some warning” said one of the guard

Sven stopped and two of the guard stayed with him whilst the other four chaperoned Jeremiah to the palace; or what was left of it;

“You will address Poseidon as Lord…proceed”

Jeremiah swam forward and towards the back of the palace where there was a kind of enclave and a garden; an old man was seated at what appeared to be a pool, the light from which reflected in his face and it emphasised the deep creases and to Jeremiah the face looked like stone;

“Are you Poseidon?” he asked

The man looked up and in his direction;

“I am Poseidon and you are Jeremiah”

“Yes; my name is Jeremiah”

“You saved Sven and he gave you the gift; why?”

“So I could deliver the pearls and ask you why you destroyed my town and killed my friends”

Jeremiah shrugged off the rucksack and let it fall to the ground; it toppled and the precious contents spilled out;

“I collected as many as I could find; Sven said you would starve without them…”

“I banished Sven; he is seeking forgiveness; shall I give it to him?”

“If he is truly sorry then why would you deny it?”

“I doubt he is as sorry as he would have you believe; despite his youthfulness he knew exactly what he was doing…”

“Love blinds us all”

“Perhaps it does…I cannot rebuild your town or resurrect your friends; how may I win your forgiveness for my rash display of temper?”

Jeremiah was stunned; it was the least expected question;

“The town is destroyed and most of the people killed; all of the children…” Jeremiah let the words fall like stones; “It is not I that you need to win forgiveness from…”

“What do you want?”

“The gift”

“Why?”

“So I can travel freely and seek a new home”

“Is that the only reason?”

It was as if he could see directly into Jeremiah’s head;

“I wish to accompany Sven to the Northern Realm and perhaps the Southern Reaches; I cannot do this without…bonding”

“You have brought the pearls and for that I should grant you what you desire but I ask you to be sure that you wish to change; it cannot be reversed and you could never live out of the water for long”

“My home is destroyed”

“It could be rebuilt”

“I wish to see things”

“The whales dancing in the light of the pearl moon; three headed lobsters; Gods?”

“Yes…”

“To find a mate?”

“Perhaps”

“Does Sven know that you love him?”

Chapter Eleven – Captive

As Jeremiah was escorted off to see Poseidon, Sven was led to a small chamber and told in no uncertain terms to wait until he was summoned but his mother was allowed to visit him;

“Sven!”

“Mother…”

“Of all the idiotic capricious things you could have done…”

“It is done Mother and no doubt Abrial is dead”

“Abrial is dead; the horns were heard”

“Then it was in vain and now I have neither home nor lover, I seek forgiveness and if our Lord spares my life then I will travel north and stay with my father if he will permit me”

It was the first time that Sven had referred to Atlantis in that way;

“He is more lenient than our Lord here that is true; and you are his son; but don’t expect to be welcomed with open arms…”

So it was true and that was something in itself to finally know that Atlantis was his father;

“If I take food he may look more kindly on me”

“A bag of pearls is not going to put all these things right Sven; merfolk have died and from what I hear, many of the humans caught in the storm too; who is this man who came with you; is he truly named “Jeremiah”?”

“Yes; he is named “Jeremiah” and he saved my life; he found me on the beach and took me to his home; he collected the pearls and he wanted to deliver them to our Lord himself and ask why so many had to die and why so much had to be destroyed on account of my fault…”

“He may well ask and many have done it privately; there is discord in the hall; a few have said they wish to leave; either going north or south; we had not the food for long journeys; that could change now…”

“Will you stay or go north?”

“I do not know yet”

They conversed a while longer and then the guard announced that Poseidon wished to see him;

“Where is Jeremiah?” Sven asked the guard

“With Ingrid; he wished to talk to the healer”

“Is he sick?”

“No…”

He was escorted to Poseidon’s inner chamber and left at the entrance;

“So Sven; you return despite being banished…”

“I had to bring Jeremiah; he didn’t know the way”

“You could have summoned a guard from the surface; they would have brought Jeremiah down; what do you want?”

“Forgiveness Lord and I wish to travel north to see my father and deliver the pearls”

“Someone does need to go; the supply line is very weak; Jeremiah has saved many lives; he too wishes to go”

“We discussed the possibility of travelling together”

“He wants to change, for good, I advised him to speak to Ingrid about the consequences. You may go north Sven; I could not stop you; I banished you from the Middle Waters and that order remains for the rest of your life; you must leave; and be warned, the Raymen that you were so fond of demand your head or its weight in pearls to repair the damage to their fortress…”

“Abrial is dead Mother says”

“Abrial is dead”

“I will go north and accompany Jeremiah; will you change him if he wants it”

“I am thinking that I will after his has been north, once he sees what kind of life this really is”

“He would need to be bonded with again if he wishes to travel to the north and back”

“Yes; he would”

“He may change his mind after he has spoken to Ingrid”

“Perhaps he will; but he is owed for bringing the pearls”

“Changing him would seem a fair trade”

“It is a fair trade but he has to be sure; when he returns from the Healer we will discuss it again; as for you; say your goodbyes and make ready for a less dramatic departure; by sunset tomorrow you must be gone”

Poseidon turned away and Sven left with so many heavy thoughts and he couldn’t even begin to grief for Abrial; he wondered if that meant that he had not truly loved Abrial or if the dam was getting ready to burst. He made his way out of the palace and was heading in the direction of the cave when three dark shadows loomed out of the haunting cloud of dust and light; his cry died in his throat as he felt the first sting.

Chapter Twelve – Ransom

“Did our Lord explain that the change is irreversible Jeremiah?” asked Ingrid

“Yes; he told me that”

“Your home has been destroyed and your friends have been killed, you grieve but time will heal the pain; then you may wish to return and rebuild…”

“It is a thought; a recurring one; but I am alone in this World; I have seen so little of it…”

“You could spend short periods of time out of the water and you would, unlike us, have legs and could move freely; but you would still have to return to the water every day, for at least as long as the night; longer at times”

“What else will change?”

“You will have far superior eyesight and hearing; you will have the capacity to learn many languages. You will be endowed with strength, stamina, speed and long life; at least a hundred years longer than you might expect to live; maybe more; you would have to adopt our diet, human food would be like poison; you could not mate with a human woman or a merwoman; least you could bond but there will be no offspring”

“None of that sounds especially bad”

“Some of it is no doubt very attractive but be warned; don’t expect merfolk to accept you so easily; you are a curiosity right now and everyone is exceedingly grateful that you brought the pearls but a change; is a different matter; some will treat you with disdain; some as a freak; some may befriend you and others may love you but you will never be a merman and that will be “always in the water” as we say…”

“I wish to travel; both north and south; if I do not live permanently in one of the settlements then I might be better off”

“A wanderer, alone; relying on charity; the bag of pearls will eventually be forgotten; what then; what will you do; you cannot swim as fast as us or create children; what role will you have?”

“If I meet someone who sees me for who I am; then the rest won’t matter”

“No merwoman will court you as you cannot father a child or protect her; you will still be weak by our standards, so not a good catch; some mermen may take a liking to you…”

“Are there others like me; like how I may be I should say?”

“Yes, a few; they are very old now from memory; it is a rarity; you will not find companionship there”

“Thank you for being so honest with me; I need to think; is there a place I can rest and be quiet?”

“The healing chamber; through that entrance; it is like a garden; no one will disturb you; there is some food too. Be advised; Sven will have to leave very soon; if you wish to go with him then by sunset tomorrow you will need to have made a decision and the change will need to have been performed; that is not a five minute operation; at least an hour or two are needed; but do not rush the decision; you can bond again and think about it for another month”

“Yes; I realise that; it might be best to see how it goes but the bonding is…”

“Awkward?”

“It’s a good enough word”

“Better an awkward moment than a long life full of regret for the choice of path”

“Wise words Ingrid; I will think a little”

“Think, certainly, ask as many questions as you want; I need to go to the hospital; some of my kinsmen need my help and your gift of pearls will save a few who would otherwise perish”

Jeremiah sat in the garden; a coral garden; gently swaying with the motion of the water and tiny fish darted in and out of the fronds and fans; it was very soothing but did not help with making the decision. Bonding and delaying the permanent change sounded like good advice and his life as a “merhuman” would perhaps be lonely and even precarious; remaining as Jeremiah and helping the others to rebuild the town was the only other concrete option but this had lifted him out of the stupor he realised he had fallen in to and seeing whales dance and three headed lobsters and Gods would be very exciting; but perhaps the novelty would be short lived. Perhaps he could find a place; an island, remote; where he could live out his long life half in the water and half out; but who would share that; then he realised he hadn’t asked if merfolk could be changed and have legs; just at the point at which he had decided to talk to Poseidon again the guards’ horns sounded and there was the feeling of an alarm; he went out and many of the merfolk were outside the cave too;

“What has happened?” he asked no one in particular

“Sven has been captured by the Raymen and they demand their ransom” replied one of the guards standing closest

“Captured?”

“Yes; they were waiting in ambush; hidden by the dust in the water”

“What do they want?”

“His head’s weight in pearls or his head”

“How long before they want an answer?

“Noon tomorrow”

Jeremiah sought out Ingrid and she introduced him to Sven’s mother, whose name was Jocelyn.

“I am happy to meet you Jeremiah; I just wish it was under better circumstances; thank you for the gift of the pearls”

“You’re welcome; sounds like we are going to need them”

“If only it were that simple”

“What do you mean?”

“None will relinquish their share to pay the ransom”

“Oh no; we have to save him; I didn’t save him once to see him die here; like this”

“You don’t understand the gravity of his error Jeremiah; this is not on the scale of a lovers’ tiff; this could have resulted in outright war”

“Will Poseidon try to negotiate?”

“Unlikely; he banished Sven; this just adds to his woes but it might rid him of a problem”

“You can’t be serious”

“We are highly political creatures Jeremiah; safeguarding the truce with the Raymen is worth a hundred bags of pearls”

“He seems to court danger and trouble”

“Sven? Yes; it is in his genes; far better he had gone to the north a long time ago; they are different; their life is harsher and more challenging; he wouldn’t have got bored and sought the bosom of Abrial, he’d have been fighting Orca and protecting the supply line…now he will probably die”

“I need to speak to Poseidon”

“Go gently Jeremiah; his anger is on a short fuse, especially so now”

“Thank you Jocelyn”

Jeremiah sought out Poseidon; in deep discussion with the cockleshells”

“Ah, Jeremiah; I was hoping that you would come quickly…”

“What are we going to do?”

“Do?”

“To get Sven back”

“We cannot spare the pearls” Poseidon said but the excuse sounded reedy in the old man’s throat

“If you change me then I am due a share of the pearls that I brought back; I will put my share forward and Sven’s mother will too I’m sure”

“Why Jeremiah?”

“Because I do love him and I can’t let him die; then all the death will have been for nothing”

Poseidon looked into his eyes and bored deep into his soul, searching out the very core of the truth in Jeremiah’s heart;

“If you give up your promised share so you will relinquish the chance to be changed and if you wish to stay with Sven then you will need to bond frequently; are you sure he wants the same things as you Jeremiah?”

“I think he needs to be given the chance to find his place and I have no doubt he will repay the debt in the fullness of time”

“If he does not want to be with you; what then?”

“I will go home and rebuild the town with the others”

“Your share and Jocelyn’s share won’t be enough; but I will contribute the rest; once we have him back then you both must leave”

“Agreed”

“I will go with you to the Raymen; only my presence will stop them from killing you on sight”

“Thank you”

Jeremiah and Poseidon collected the pearls and this spectacle of human and God hand in hand had the merfolk spellbound; like myth and legend were being acted out in front of their very eyes;

“Say nothing; do nothing; even if provoked” said Poseidon quietly as they swam towards the fortress which was some distance from the merfolk settlement.

Jeremiah swam on stoically; choosing to ignore the thoughts of what might have been; what could be; all he could do was pray that Sven was unharmed and that they got him back safely.

Chapter Thirteen – Drotha

When Sven woke he panicked; he couldn’t see or move and the pain his only clue that he was in fact alive and not already dead and in Hell.

He worked out he was bound; his hands were tied behind his back and the kelp rope was wound tight round his tail and the same rope was knotted around his wrists; the fact that there was no light soon indicated that he must be in one of the dungeons. He was numb from inactivity and hungry!

“What do they plan to do with me?” he kept asking himself; “Abrial is dead; Trillion’s genes also; is their reaction to Abrial’s loss more about the loss of the genes I wonder; did they hope that we would produce the monster foretold in the stories and then they could launch their assault on the merfolk anew?”

Which was not far from the truth and the loss of Abrial was a damning blow to the Raymen’s plans; Drotha had not sanctioned Abrial’s execution; that was dealt out by a hastily formed possé and he had been, still was, furious; the members of the posse had been killed for their unlawful act. In truth many Raymen hated Abrial and the thought of further conflict with the merpeople; six dead raymen was a good price to prevent a union and the creation of the monster; Drotha had not shared his plans with all; so they had little understanding of the true loss of Abrial; but most breathed easier knowing the freak was gone.

Sven’s cogitation was broken by the arrival of the guard who dragged him unceremoniously to Drotha’s throne.

Drotha was a ray of immense proportions; the span of his wings exceeded five yards! His tail was just as long and the tip was clad in gold; his crown in fact; the sting more powerful and deadly than the sea snake and all feared him. A congenital malformation had produced a mouth that was strangely human; more like a beak; it gave him a sinister demeanour as if his lips were permanently fixed into a sardonic grin.

Sven knew Drotha and many of the raymen; Drotha had approved the betrothal so he was unclear as to why he was being treated like a criminal;

“Great Drotha; I am your servant” he said as they approached careful to adopt the correct form

“Sven” Drotha hissed flicking his tail from side to side

“I grieve for the loss of Abrial” said Sven with his eyes downcast

“You understand nothing you stupid boy; Abrial did not love you; Abrial merely wanted your seed; it is all we ever wanted; and if we can’t have that then we’ll have your head’s weight in pearls or your head; the Old Man will no doubt be glad to see you dead”

“He will bring the ransom”

“Don’t be so sure; he banished you; if I kill you it will save him the bother”

“He has given me permission to go north and stay with my father”

“Has he? Who is this man who is changed and comes with you?”

“Jeremiah”

A gasp like hiss was let out by the king and all who heard the name;

“The myth becomes truth; he saved me as I lay dying on the beach”

Drotha eyed him differently;

“But the Jeremiah in the story dies saving the merman”

“I changed him; it saved him”

Which was strangely nearer the truth than any realised, even Jeremiah;

“You changed him?”

“Yes; we bonded; there was no time for anything else”

“Why did he come with you?”

“He seeks counsel from Poseidon”

Sven did not wish to allude to the pearls or Jeremiah’s wish to be transformed;

“You have until noon; if the ransom has not been paid by then I will cut off your head and we will feast on your organs”

Sven knew that Drotha spoke truly. He was dragged back to the dungeon.

“Please come Lord and save me” he prayed and the revelation that Abrial had not loved him had not yet sunk in; nor the realisation that he was just a silly, vain and capricious boy who was unworthy of love, from ray, merfolk or human alike. He cried and it was the first time that the tears were genuine; they stung his face and he felt so cold.

Chapter Fourteen – Exchange

Poseidon and Jeremiah approached the fortress; it had once been a reef; long dead and the “atoll” served as an effective fortress where the rays burrowed and languished under the deep overhangs; parts of the fortress were damaged as if bombarded with cannon;

“Your wrath reached here?”

“Seemingly” was all Poseidon said in reply

In an instant the guard were upon them and only Poseidon’s trident saved them from being stung without warning;

“Take us to Drotha” commanded Poseidon in the Ray Tongue

“Follow us Old Man”

“Old Man” was how they addressed the Lord of the Seas and it was purposefully insolent. The pair were escorted to the throne chamber; a cavern beneath the “atoll”;

“Great Drotha; we are your servants” Poseidon said in the politest manner

“Old Man; you have come; I would have wagered against it…do you bring the pearls?”

“I have the pearls”

“Fetch Sven” Drotha bellowed but it was more of a loud hiss like a steam boiler had suddenly burst; five minutes later Sven was dragged in and Jeremiah started at his condition;

“Say and do nothing Jeremiah” and Jeremiah knew that Poseidon had spoken directly into his head

“I cannot understand why you want it back Old Man; didn’t you banish it?”

“He will depart from Middle Waters before sunset”

“To the Northern Realm; let us hope Atlantis can teach him some sense where you failed”

Poseidon said nothing and put the bag of pearls on the ground in front of the king;

“His head is empty; you brought too many” laughed Drotha

All this time Sven had his eyes on Jeremiah who returned the gaze and smiled through his eyes;

“You” said Drotha and his tail arched over his back and pointed directly at Jeremiah

“Great Drotha, I am your servant” Jeremiah replied steadily but his hands were shaking

“Is your name truly Jeremiah and did you save the merman on the beach?”

“Jeremiah is my name and I saved Sven on the beach…”

“He changed you so you could seek counsel from the Old Man; what advice did you ask for?”

Jeremiah had spoken because he sensed that if he ignored Drotha as Poseidon had advised, his silence might be construed as rudeness and it wasn’t Poseidon’s neck that Drotha’s sting was aimed at;

“How to heal the pain of the loss I bear”

“The village and the people; is this what you refer to?”

“Yes…”

“And what has he advised?”

“To travel to all realms…”

“Are you offering the human the “gift” Poseidon?”

Both Jeremiah and Poseidon knew this was leading onto difficult territory;

“It has been offered”

“Why did you save Sven?” Drotha asked Jeremiah

“He was injured and I felt compelled; I would have done the same if it had been a ray washed up on the beach…”

“That I doubt…still; there is something uncommonly good in your nature; so unlike many of your kind who kill us for sport”

Jeremiah said nothing;

“I place Sven in your keeping; you will take him to the Northern Realm”

“It was my intention to accompany him”

“You will need to do more than accompany him…”

“What have you done Drotha?” asked Poseidon picking up on the tone

“My guards were a little too zealous when they captured the poor boy; too much of the numbing agent was administered; it is unlikely he will ever regain the use of his tail; such a pretty tail too…”

“NO” and it was Sven who cried out

Drotha flicked his tail and he shot out from his throne and positioned himself before Sven, the point of the gold cladded tail an inch from the merman’s brow, menacingly poised between his eyes;

“Be grateful I did not cut it off as a trophy or your piece for that matter…depart and if you are ever seen in these waters you will be killed on sight”

Between Poseidon and Jeremiah they towed the bound Sven out of the chamber and headed out of the fortress and towards the open water; Sven was near comatose with shock; the pair said nothing for a good long while;

“Perhaps Ingrid can do something” Jeremiah finally said to break the silence

“Doubtful but I will urge her to try; what of the change Jeremiah; time is running out”

“I will take Ingrid’s advice and bond again and delay the decision until I have been to the Northern Realm and delivered Sven to his father”

“Probably wise; it is unlikely that Sven will be able to do it…”

“Who else then?”

“You will need to get to Atlantis before the end of the month; there is no point doing it now; it will not prolong the effect”

“We have many days before the first change expires”

“It is a long way and you’ll have to tow Sven; it will slow you down; there are many hazards and none more deadly than the Orca”

“I’ll make it in time and Sven will recover”

But the confidence sounded a little hollow and Jeremiah didn’t really know what he was heading into; it felt like another tempest”

“He may” was all Poseidon said and he upped their pace and called upon the dolphins to assist and whereas their outbound journey had taken some hours, their return took less than one; for all the worry Jeremiah felt exhilarated whilst being towed by the dolphins. They arrived back and immediately Poseidon took Sven to Ingrid;

“Go find the Provision’s Master Jeremiah; he has your supplies and the food for the Northern Realm such as we can spare”

It all felt so much more serious and weighty at that moment but as Jeremiah said to himself;

“You wanted to see the whales dance and three headed lobsters, the mighty Gods…”

Chapter Fifteen – Departure

Jeremiah first sought out Jocelyn to give her the news and to ask her to take him to the Master; she cried long and hard;

“He will recover Jocelyn; I know it”

She took him to the Master and left him there and Jeremiah guessed she would go directly to Sven’s side;

“Master; I am Jeremiah; I have come for our supplies and the food for the Northern Realm”

The Master, whose name was Logan, was not old as Jeremiah had expected but fairly young; darker than his brethren;

“I am from the Southern Reaches; we are darker than our relatives farther north” he said reading the question on Jeremiah’s lips

“I hope to go there”

“You will be welcomed…guard these with your life”

Logan pointed to the pearls he was sending north. They were encased in a shell, a weirdly shaped shell;

“The creature that lived in this shell has long been extinct; the casing is especially durable and shaped so that it fits snuggly on your back without impeding your movements; try it on”

Jeremiah donned the bizarre “rucksack” and it did seem to fit more snuggly than his own and it was smooth and sleek;

“It will not slow you down and it will offer some protection if you are attacked”

The word jolted Jeremiah;

“Attacked?”

“Shark, orca; barracuda; harpoon…”

“Let’s hope it is not needed”

“Tell Kyle, the master in the north, that these are the last pearls he will see for at least six months; if he’s lucky…”

“Don’t they eat mussel beard and kelp too?”

“Yes; but the water is colder and their life is harsher; only the pearls sustain them…right; your supplies; you have pearls as does Sven; he will need less because he will be inactive for the most part…”

The news of his paralysis had travelled quickly!

“…you have kelp cakes and Ingrid made them; she has fortified them with pure spirulina and the oil which is found in the kelp flower; it will keep your skin from drying out too quickly if you have to venture on land…the mussel beard has been woven into these coils; one should suffice for the day; they are an acquired taste shall we say…”

“Is there anything else I can eat if I have to?”

“Cuttle fish bone; it is your last resort; I have placed some in the supply pouch; you will find you get hungrier more quickly as you travel north; the water is colder and the tides are always against you; pace yourself”

“I have to get there by the end of the month; by next full moon”

“Ah, yes, the effect of the bonding will cease and it ceases almost immediately; so be warned”

Jeremiah could see that Logan wished to say something;

“Please say what is on your mind Master”

“None envy you and all wonder at your bravery; we are grateful beyond words for the pearls that you brought back; some question whether Sven is worth the trouble…”

“I sense that…I don’t understand it all yet myself; all I know is that it is important that I take him to his father; he loved Abrial, rightly or wrongly; and paid the price for it…”

“As did we all…”

“As did we all; but he cannot stay here; I saved him once and I will do it again”

“Let us hope not thrice and speaking of protection; you need something; take this”

Logan handed him a sword; made from sword fish bone; it fitted in a scabbard that was strapped to his leg;

“I don’t much feel like a warrior” Jeremiah mused

“Use it and don’t be afraid; you have strength, stamina and speed; keen hearing and eyesight; keep a steady pace, rest occasionally and check your bearings frequently…”

“Sven knows the way”

“On reduced rations Sven will be less lucid, drowsy; you will need to guide yourself”

“How?”

“You have used a compass before I take it?”

“Yes”

“This is a special compass; it is made from a special shell”

Logan held out the shell which was like a globe and it was transparent;

“What is inside?”

“Mermaid’s tears…see the needle; it is made from one of Poseidon’s own hairs; this is very rare; the hair is straight and points to the Northern Realm and the Seat of Atlantis; guard this more closely than the pearls; it is worth ten times the weight of the pearls on your back”

The globe fitted into a pouch; made of a leathery material; apparently shark skin and it was fastened to the wrist by a thong made of mermaiden’s hair.

Jeremiah looked at Logan as if to say, “Am I ready?”

“You are ready, save the harness to tow Sven; he will wear it and it has two long trailing handles on thongs; they attach to this belt; the thongs are long enough so that you can still freely move your legs”

“Thank you”

“We thank you”

Jeremiah needed to ask a question and the awkwardness must have been plain to see;

“What is it?” asked Logan

“If Sven is not capable of bonding with me; I will need to approach someone else; uhm; how do I do that?”

“Speak to Kyle and when you return I will bond with you if you still plan to go to the Southern Reaches”

“I may choose to transform…Poseidon has still promised he will do it if I elect to receive “the gift”…”

“So we hear; I advise caution; wait and see how you feel; good luck; look for assistance everywhere but have your wits about you; the guard will accompany you to the edge of the territory, then you’re on your own”

“Good bye Logan; I will see you again”

“Good bye Jeremiah”

Jeremiah left to seek out Ingrid and ascertain how Sven was doing;

“I have no time to perform miracles, the medicine takes time to work; but he is strong; there is an excellent healer in the north, Margaret; seek her out immediately; he may recover some use of his tail by the time you get there; I can’t promise”

“I have our supplies and the pearls”

“And a weapon; good!”

“Logan gave me the compass too”

“Jocelyn is fitting the towing harness; and saying goodbye no doubt; Poseidon wishes to speak to you before you go; good luck…”

“Thank you; good bye”

Jeremiah sought out Poseidon;

“Lord…”

“Jeremiah…the guard will be with you until you reach the edge of the territory but have your wits about you, especially there; the rays may be waiting; the further north you go the better; despite the orcas; do not rely on the dolphins but they may help you from time to time; this packet is for Atlantis and I have sent messenger fish to tell him all that needs to be shared. If you are in real danger; outnumbered and fear for your lives then blow this”

Poseidon handed him a shell that looked like a little trumpet; a child’s toy;

“If you blow this it will make a sound that will split stone; it will work just once so be prudent…”

“Thank you” Jeremiah said as he fastened the horn to his belt

“Think about the transformation Jeremiah; you will see our life as it is as you journey; there will be things that you find that you miss from your old life; weigh everything carefully, be guided by Atlantis and there was a human like you there once; he may still be there; his name was Malachi I think…”

“And Sven may never return to Middle Waters?”

“Never; if he wishes to live at all…if you return here I will change you if that is what you want and I will recruit you into my personal guard or Ingrid will teach you the healing ways if you desire an occupation; think long and hard but for the most part don’t dwell too much on all that is heavy; see the sea and the wonders within it; dance with the whales and taunt the lobsters; parry with sharks and sing with the starfish, explore the Northern Realm; visit the bears and walrus and gaze at the Northern Lights…now go; safe journeys”

Jeremiah bowed and left to find Sven who was in the harness and the guard attached the handles and they swam slowly out of the settlement; none save Jocelyn, Ingrid and Logan bore witness to their departure.

At the edge of the territory, about an hour from the settlement the guard turned and left silently and pretty soon thereafter Jeremiah and Sven were alone. Sven had said nothing this whole time but now seemed to rouse himself;

“I cannot thank you enough Jeremiah; you save me a third time”

Jeremiah was unsure of his emotions;

“Thank me when you see Atlantis; rest; Ingrid says rest is the best cure”

“I wish I could help; if but a little”

“For now I feel strong; save your strength for I am sure that there will be tests of it aplenty; sing or tell stories; I want to know about your myths and legends, customs and laws; recite poetry and teach me the language of the merfolk”

“You will ask for the change then?”

“I don’t know for sure”

“Logan gave you the compass and the blade”

“Yes he did; I’m not sure I could kill another; let’s hope I don’t have to try”

Before the words died three shadows loomed out of the dark;

“Jeremiah!” screamed Sven

Chapter Sixteen – The Blade

Jeremiah had speed, strength and stamina and keen senses and he too had seen the shadows; a fraction before Sven in fact and he whipped out the blade before he realised it; he acted partly from the inherited instincts which came with the bonding. He circled so that Sven was more protected and on a shorter rein.

The rays circled drawing closer with their stings poised;

“Three against one” said Jeremiah to himself

Sven could use his arms although they were weak but still much stronger than any human’s; the rays were big; half as big again as their brethren, no doubt chosen for the task deliberately for that reason. There was no time to agree tactics and in the next instant the rays flew at them but as luck would have it because they were that much bigger their wings hampered their movements in close quarters and they collided with each other as they advanced. Jeremiah dived under the approaching sheet of black and whipped Sven around with him who had his own blade which he used to cut off the tail of one as Jeremiah parried with the others, narrowly avoiding getting stung and leaving deep wounds in the bodies of the two armed rays who retreated a little; the maimed one fled;

“Be cautious Jeremiah; their anger will make them unpredictable but careless too hopefully” was all Sven was able to say before the attack was re-launched but two on two was better odds.

Jeremiah parried with one who used its tail as a sword and in the hands of a human no doubt the power wielded would have pulverised bone but Jeremiah had the strength and the speed, slashing his blade right and left, meeting the sting each time. Sven was tiring quickly;

“Dive beneath me Sven; quickly” shouted Jeremiah and Sven complied and as he did one of the rays turned to head down too and in that instant Jeremiah cut off its tail but he wasn’t quick enough and the other ray flicked its tail and hit him squarely on the back; the armour of the shell he was wearing spared him the sting but he saw starfish and almost dropped the blade. The ray positioned itself for the final blow and in the second before the tail lashed out a bolt of grey and white exploded in their midst and the ray was carried away some distance and then a cloud of crimson enveloped them.

Sven used his last remaining strength to literally crawl out of the maelstrom, dragging Jeremiah with him; they found sanctuary in a clump of kelp;

“It is a shark; no doubt it smelled the blood”

“Will it come for us?” Jeremiah managed

“Unlikely; but there may be others; we should stay quiet and wait”

Two or three more did arrive and the three rays were ripped to shreds in the feeding frenzy that ensued and then for a hundred yards in all directions the sea was tinged pink and Jeremiah was sure he could taste the blood. They waited out the next hour barely moving; neither spoke and in an instant the sharks were gone, as quickly as they had arrived;

“We were very lucky” said Sven

“And the attack was so close to the territory”

“They do not venture that much farther north; it felt like an act of desperation”

“I do not know why they wish to kill you; what purpose does it serve?”

“Revenge for the death of Abrial but if what Drotha said was true then I am surprised he did not keep me captive and hope another could be found to bond with me to create the beast that he hopes will win him his war…they would also have killed you”

“I am just fair game”

“Drotha’s reaction to the knowledge that you are named “Jeremiah” and saved me says different; if Poseidon had not been with you then you would not have been allowed to leave; of that I am sure”

“I am not the myth or the fairy tale; it is just a name…”

“I am beginning to think it is more than that”

Jeremiah had no clue what that could mean; the boy in the story had died; he hadn’t;

“We should go and get as far north as we can whilst the stench of the blood masks our trail; do you have the bearing” Sven asked

“Yes; this compass is indeed a wonder” Jeremiah replied with his wrist held out just in front of his face and the globe partly exposed for the sheath that protected it was able to be removed from the top half of the globe leaving the bottom half secured to the wearer’s wrist.

They moved forward and Jeremiah swallowed a pearl and upped their pace;

“We should rest at the Range of Venus as before” said Sven but he sounded sleepy

“Agreed” replied Jeremiah and they cruised forward leaving no tell-tale trail for all was obliterated by the Raymen’s blood and guts.

They reached the Range and rested where they had done so on the journey to the merfolk settlement; not that it was necessary but Jeremiah lay down; he could rest just hanging in the water but his human instincts were still very strong;

“I killed two rays” he said; ostensibly to himself

“With Poseidon’s own blade” replied Sven who was also laying down with is eyes closed

“His own!”

“The honour should be felt as keenly as the blade”

Jeremiah closed his eyes but did not seek the sanctuary of sleep; all the while he wondered if Poseidon had plans for him just as Drotha had had plans for Sven.

Chapter Seventeen – Strange companions

Sven slept just as Ingrid predicted he would need to; for two hours at least. For a time Jeremiah rested his eyes then he opened them to examine the blade more closely. It was some work of remarkable skill and evidently ancient. It made him think that the tales of the Gods were; until now, just that, tales and myths, but they were real; this blade had been used by Poseidon; maybe other heroic warriors; the compass had guided merfolk for centuries perhaps millennia; it all made him feel small and very insignificant but, perhaps it was the diet of pearls; a bud of something was growing inside him; he could feel it; a strength, a confidence; perhaps inherited.

He ate one of the mussel beard coils and as Logan had said the taste was definitely an acquired one; it was like the strongest seafood and grass combined; it gave him vitality but a disgusting taste in his mouth like he’d sucked a mussel shell for too long. He roused himself and called out to Sven;

“Sven; we need to leave…”

The merman came to but only just so Jeremiah gave him a coil and a pearl; the attack had spent his reserves;

“Just rest; I will keep a steady pace but not push things too much”

They left and Sven allowed himself to be towed; resting his arms but he spoke, sang to be accurate; songs learned at the mother’s tail; they were simple and very pleasant to the ear. Jeremiah was quiet; they were approaching the straits that led to his home albeit that was hours away but as they drew near he felt sad and wondered if his choices were sensible;

“I should help the village to recover but greater deeds seem to lie in wait for me; I will return, one day…”

Sven must have guessed it or even heard his thoughts and he sang different songs; celebrating great merfolk victories or heroes;

“Were there always merfolk?” asked Jeremiah

“There is the thing; it depends on whether you believe in the creation of all things or the evolution of all things; many believe that the merfolk just evolved from the same stem as humans; others believe they were created by Poseidon”

“What do you believe?”

“That we were created by Poseidon”

“Tell me of the North”

“It is colder and the waters are more treacherous; the orca prey on us and it’s a constant battle to keep the supply line open; there are many wonderful things in the North; the Lights, the bears, the walrus, great icebergs that float like ships. The merfolk are hardier; stronger; “aquatic Vikings” Poseidon calls them; all the children of Atlantis…”

“How are you like them?”

“I have the added strength and speed; the hair and the recklessness!”

“Will they accept you?”

“I cannot say; my crimes will be forever against me; they suffered less but the scarcity of pearls will be a constant reminder of my fault”

“Then why go there; why don’t you travel?”

“A vagabond; a hermit; I need my people; I need my brothers”

“If they reject you or Atlantis refuses you sanctuary, what then?”

“South to Briscoe I suppose; though I have no connection but the family ties are less important in the South; they are more independent and have pearls in abundance”

“Perhaps we should have gone there”

“The North needs your gift of pearls; they cannot survive without them; and I must see the healer; she is the most skilled of all who practise the craft”

They fell silent and swam for many hours; deliberately Jeremiah did not stop before they were beyond the reach of his village and some hours after that turning point in the road;

“I need to rest; is there a safe haven nearby Sven?”

“An hour from here is an old volcano; dormant; it is a safe haven but we will not be alone; we approach the very edge of the orca territory; rays are mere children in comparison”

“Why?”

“Their size is formidable and their jaws can crush rock; they travel in pods and have no fear of swordfish blades!”

“How do the merfolk of the North combat them?”

“Likewise the merfolk of the North travel in greater numbers; they use long handled harpoons to keep the orca at bay”

They reached the volcano and slipped into the crater and found a hole where they could hide themselves.

“Sleep Jeremiah; I will keep the first watch; we are safe here”

Jeremiah was already asleep and despite the threats all around him he slept soundly.

He woke to find Sven asleep;

“What kind of burden are you?” he asked himself as he gazed upon the sleeping merman, who, in sleep; resembled a child, a mere baby.

He was brought to his senses by a tremor; a vibration; not an earthquake but something else, something moving slowly and even though he couldn’t see it he knew it must be vast;

“Sven, wake up; something is approaching”

Merfolk sensed vibrations in the water just like hearing or seeing;

“It is not orca; they are like flies buzzing; this is a whale and judging by the tremor it is a big one; not a blue; we are too far north; maybe a grey or perhaps a sperm whale; just one I think…”

“What do we do?”

“Announce ourselves; this could be advantageous”

They left the hole and swam slowly up to the lip of the crater; still nothing could be seen but the tremor was stronger and beat like a hammer on an anvil;

“It’s the tail; swim higher; it will see my tail though their eyesight is less good than other creatures”

They swam a little higher and just at the edge of their keen sight they could see a shadow; a vast grey shadow; like a submarine; it drew near. Sven called out in his own tongue; a kind of greeting; the shadow advanced and then the lines became more distinct; evidently the beast speeded up a little because soon it was plain to see and the whale was indeed a grey; and the size of a submarine; it slowed as it approached;

“What have we here?” it boomed

Sven answered it its own tongue;

“A merman and a changeling; why are you tethered merman?”

Sven explained and the whale drew very close; Jeremiah was speechless;

“What is your name changeling?” the whale asked

“Jeremiah”

The whale let out the loudest shriek it was possible any animal could and the sound wave was like a depth charge had exploded;

“Peacefully” said Sven in a kind of soothing tone

“There are orcas not too far from here; grab hold of my flipper and I will tow us to safe ground”

Still recovering from the shock of the sound wave, Jeremiah grabbed the flipper and they were towed to the edge of the kelp grove that was called “Fathom Forest”;

“We will wait here for the orcas to pass through” said the whale

“Why are you travelling north great one?” asked Sven

“To seek counsel with Atlantis”

“What is your name?” asked Jeremiah unsure if the whale could understand anything else he said

“Prow”

And the kelp swayed on the sound wave like ribbons in the breeze, “keep perfectly still and silent; they approach” the whale added

Twelve ominous black shapes passed by just out of clear sight; their tremors were indeed like flies in comparison to the whale’s; at least half an hour passed before he signalled it was safe;

“I must surface soon; keep hold but the ride could be bumpy” and he kind of chuckled

The whale headed to the surface and broke through; letting out the tell-tale blast of air before descending again and this was repeated many times. To Jeremiah it was like a rollercoaster ride, a slow and undulating rollercoaster ride and surprisingly swift because soon they were clear of the forest; the water was that much colder too;

“We have reached the edge of the Northern Realm” Prow announced, “I wish to feed so let go and wait”

Jeremiah let go of the flipper and he and Sven drifted some distance away but the whale was also moving and then the whale descended almost out of sight but then turned and swam up in a spiral; exhaling the air from its lungs as it did and the curtain of bubbles drove the krill to the surface where the beast opened its gargantuan jaws and caught the krill in its “net”; the baleen. It did this three or four times and then halted the process.

“Why do you seek counsel with Atlantis, wise one?” asked Sven

“Something strange is happening; I hear it everywhere; like myths and legends have woken up; it is why I was so surprised to hear that you are called “Jeremiah”; it confirms that something is “amiss”; Poseidon’s wrath may have opened the cage…”

“The cage?” asked Jeremiah suddenly very anxious

“Yes; the Leviathan may be free and if it is then none are safe and all should gather with arms to defeat the beast this time; I said locking it away was a foolish decision…”

Sven glanced at Jeremiah as if to say “please don’t reveal the reason for our Lord’s wrath”

“What is a Leviathan?” asked Jeremiah

“Oh; a beast like no other; ten times the size of the biggest blue whale; a mass of stone crushing tentacles and jaws that can rip open a ship; it is cunning and seeks only to destroy; it is a demon and likely more powerful for the centuries it has rested; save Poseidon I doubt any could defeat it; we should gather; the three sea lords and their armies…”

“Where was it held prisoner?”

“West and North of here; in a great ice prison”

“If it had escaped wouldn’t someone know?”

“Perhaps; if they survived to tell the tale!”

“We should get going then” urged Jeremiah

“Agreed; hold on”

The whale carried them for league after league, occasionally resting and soon there were other animals travelling in the wake, dolphins and fish, octopi and myriads of starfish and jellyfish;

“It is as I thought; the Leviathan is free and all seek either counsel or a safe haven; there are no safe havens…what is on your back Jeremiah?”

“Pearls for the Northern Realm; Poseidon’s wrath obliterated the oyster beds; these were all we could salvage”

“What angered him so?”

“He uncovered a plot by Drotha”

“Is it true that Abrial was killed?”

“Yes it is true”

“Our Lord is quick to anger Prow; this you know” added Sven hoping to angle the questioning away

“I know it and all suffer for it”

They travelled in silence but were aware of the growing “cavalcade” behind them; more whales joined the throng and seals and walruses, sea lions and many sharks even orca who took up the acknowledged “peace” formation. Jeremiah and Sven rested as they were pulled along; it was a Godsend and helped them to eke out their supplies;

“How do you know you are heading in the right direction Prow?” asked Jeremiah intrigued that none save him needed to check their bearings and when he did he found that their course was true and straight;

“Ah, a secret which I suppose I can share with you since you are changed…you humans believe that we have some kind of magnetic field sensor; it is not wholly wrong; we do; we know where north is but that is too imprecise; we use the “beacons” to pinpoint our location…”

“The beacons?” questioned Jeremiah who was sure that it could not mean some kind of underwater GPS system

“Ancient transmitters; throughout Water World; incredibly powerful crystalline structures that emit a pulse which we learn to tune in to and by using them we “know” where we are and in what direction we are going”

“Will we see one?”

“Atlantis is custodian of one; did you not see the one in Middle Waters?”

“Did I Sven?”

“I did not even think to show it to you…it is in the dome of the rock above the cave”

“Do merfolk use these beacons; these transmitters?”

“Oh yes; on long journeys but the roads between the kingdoms are well trodden and for the most part we use underwater features to guide us; like the Range of Venus and at night we can navigate by the moon and the stars”

For all man’s accomplishments, Jeremiah still felt very small and somehow much less intelligent.

“We approach the Gates of Sven” said Prow slowing slightly

“The “Gates of Sven”…” Jeremiah repeated to Sven

“My ancestor’s legacy, after his triumph over Trillion; he built the gates as a kind of memorial to all the merfolk who died and all who pass through the gates shall receive the welcome of Atlantis and a safe haven”

“There are no safe havens” boomed Prow and as his sound wave died the gates came into clear sight.

Chapter Eighteen – The Gates of Sven and the Northern Realm

Gates they were but to Jeremiah the word was grossly misappropriated; like calling “Big Ben” a wristwatch;

“What in the Gods’ names…” he exclaimed and turned to Sven

“The Gates of Sven…” was all he said and it was only the second time he’d seen them himself so he too was full of childlike wonder.

The gates were at the entrance to a vast valley or more likely an old rift for the sides of the valley was sheer and hundreds of feet high. Each gate was easily one hundred feet across and twenty feet thick but Jeremiah could not determine of what they were made. As they drew closer the arch above the gates came into view, a stone arch spanning the entire width of the entrance;

“It was once the doorway to a vast cavern” explained Prow, “A prison…”

“There is light…” Jeremiah began to say

“Billions of bacteria, light emitting bacteria; when they die their bodies harden like stone and that is what covers everything” said Prow like an old school master

“What are the gates made of, I mean, underneath?”

“Mother of pearl and gold” replied Prow

Jeremiah just gawped; the vastness dwarfed him. The pillars either side of the entrance were carved from the rock; they looked like tridents and despite the bacteria having filled up the spaces in the pattern of the gate he could still see that it had once been an amazingly intricate filigree. The gates were open and unmanned; more ceremonial than affording any real protection; they had been guarded in the past; but for centuries they had been left open;

“If the Leviathan is abroad then the gates may soon be closed” said Prow

“How far are we from the seat of Atlantis?” asked Jeremiah

“Two days; at the farthest end of the rift is the citadel and the seat of Atlantis but expect a welcoming committee before we reach it”

They swam on and passed through the gates and entered the rift; the light soon dimmed as they advanced and to Jeremiah it seemed like they were swimming into a vast black throat.

“How do we announce ourselves Sven?” asked Jeremiah

“Atlantis will have heard all from the messenger fish; we are expected; address Atlantis as “Lord Protector”…”

“I have a package from Poseidon for him”

“Yes; no doubt it says all; let us hope the pearls soften his heart”

“You are his son Sven; he will not turn his back on you”

“If the Leviathan has been released I would not be so sure, all is in peril now; many will die before the beast is slain”

“You cannot bear the entire fault Sven; Poseidon was rash in unleashing the storm; he said so to me…”

“Poseidon is God and King; none will lay the fault at his feet, not publically”

“Then you best think of a way to redeem yourself”

“By killing the Leviathan and I doubt that will be enough…”

Jeremiah kept his thoughts to himself and plagued Prow with a hundred questions about the sea and history for the grey whale had lived for centuries;

“How is it you have lived for so long Prow?”

“I am not immortal; but certainly blessed; I did many great services for the Gods when I was a youngster; I was quick and reckless then; perhaps they have bestowed the gift on me but I don’t remember; I remember a lot of things but some are like the faded memories of half remembered dreams…”

Their entourage was ever growing and the rift was beginning to fill with the train of creatures;

“Poseidon said nothing of the Leviathan before we left; is it possible he didn’t know?” asked Jeremiah of Sven

“Maybe he had but rumours at that time; but I see plans as vast as this valley and you Jeremiah will play an important part”

“What makes you say that?”

“You have the blade”

“Does he expect me to kill the Leviathan?”

“Don’t feel unworthy; it would be the greatest victory for a thousand years or more; but like Prow said, we should need all three kings and their armies to defeat it; but someone will deal the fatal blow; why not you?”

Jeremiah didn’t reply; that sounded too improbable; greater warriors there must be;

“The guard approaches” said Prow and he slowed to a stop

“Who seeks the protection of Lord Protector?” said the foremost guard and Jeremiah studied him closely for his was the first true Northern merman he had seen.

“My name is Prow and I seek counsel with Lord Protector; I fear the Leviathan has escaped and is abroad…”

“Who accompanies you?”

“Sven; son of Atlantis, Lord Protector and Jeremiah, a changeling; food bearer from Poseidon” said the old grey whale

The sound of his name echoed back down the entire length of the rift as it passed from lip to ear;

“I am Jeremiah and I bring food and messages from Poseidon for Atlantis, Lord Protector; I carry Sven who needs the healer…”

“I am Sven; son of Atlantis, Lord Protector, I need healing and sanctuary”

“You three may proceed”

The whale moved forward towing Jeremiah and Sven and the guard stood aside; they were indeed as Poseidon had described them; “Aquatic Vikings”, the guard had pelts of seal fur around their shoulders and many had their hair braided and tied back.

Two of the guard moved with them and the rest, a token force of four, remained; the huge body of creatures behind them remained behind the cordon;

“Four guards only?” said Jeremiah to no one in particular

“None will move forward unless invited” said one of the guards

It was still some distance to the citadel and it remained cloaked in shadows but a dim light could just be made out;

“Is the light from the beacon?” asked Jeremiah remembering that one of the navigation beacons was located here

“No…you see the light of the palace; the beacon stands beyond, at the head of the valley like the prow of a ship”

Slowly, very slowly, the palace and the citadel of Atlantis came into clear view. The valley or rift began to narrow and the sides grew taller and where the two sides met there was a kind of shelf upon which was the city; above it the end of the rift rose and a tooth stood out, the beacon, a crystal some forty metres high; it didn’t shine but more it glowed and even Jeremiah could see that it pulsed. On the shelf the palace stood and the city of the Northern Realm that was home to three hundred merfolk and often as many guests. The city was different in that it was built; unlike the Middle Waters where the merfolk lived in the cavern and Poseidon’s Palace; or what remained of it, was once a coral reef; built yes but it looked like no other city Jeremiah had ever seen;

“Of what are the buildings made?” he asked

“Typically a frame is built, usually of woven kelp and then we wait for the bacteria to colonise it; they create the shapes and give us our light; the city is ever growing as the bacteria multiply and die; given enough time the city would fill the rift and the light would be seen from Southern Reach”

The guard who spoke whose name was Forn directed them to a building, a kind of reception;

“We will wait here until summoned; there is food, rest”

The hall; as Jeremiah described it, was big enough for Prow to enter; it seemed to be constructed from many pillars that reached from the floor of the valley to the edge of a large overhang; it resembled a birdcage but despite the size of the pillars there were few gaps between them where the bacteria had filled in the spaces.

They came to a rest point, a vast circular area that was swaying with kelp within which there were spaces, some were furnished, others just empty spaces;

“I have food to share and I bring pearls from Logan” said Jeremiah

“Then you are a Godsend” said a voice and Jeremiah guessed it must be Kyle’s, “I am Kyle, Provision Master, greetings Jeremiah”

“Greetings Kyle; Logan said the supply will be the last you will see for at least six months”

“Short rations but not for the first time; our sincerest thanks for bearing the gift”

Jeremiah took off the shell and passed it over;

“You carry Poseidon’s blade” said Kyle with a mixture of surprise and respect

“Yes…” replied Jeremiah but in a tone that sounded full of doubt and fear

“Deal with weightier matters later, rest and eat; tell me of the human World” said Kyle and Jeremiah found him to be very engaging and very inquisitive;

“My village is by the sea; someway north of the Range of Venus; at the end of the straits”

“There is a lighthouse, yes?”

“Yes and a harbour for the fishing boats”

“I know it; although it is some time since I passed that way”

Kyle was careful to avoid asking any difficult questions and Jeremiah guessed he may have heard much already;

“I have kelp cakes from Ingrid and beard coils” said Jeremiah

“Kelp cakes from Ingrid no less; the coils are…”

“An acquired taste” interjected Jeremiah

“Sven needs the healer; of that I knew and Margaret will be along shortly” said Kyle

“Sven?” said Jeremiah but the young merman was already dozing

“He was hit by three rays”

“If he can be healed then our healer will do it, she is the most skilled of all merfolk; you are lucky that she is here; she goes often to the Southern Reaches”

“I would like to go there to”

“If the Leviathan is abroad as the grey one says then all is in the balance”

“Sven said it would need all three Gods and their armies to defeat; but I thought Poseidon alone was all powerful”

“Jeremiah; myth and legend and fact get woven; Poseidon is powerful; we felt his Wrath here; but the Leviathan is cunning and truly evil, a demon; maybe even the Devil himself; but; if the beast can be killed then we should do it; the grey one was right last time to counsel against imprisoning the beast”

“Poseidon gave me his blade; well actually, Logan did…”

“Poseidon will have sanctioned it worry not; the blade is as old as he; many great warriors have had the honour of carrying it and slaying great beasts”

“I thought Sven would be the one to do it; but if he is crippled…”

“Margaret will be here soon; don’t vex yourself until she has seen him; Sven is young and strong; reckless too; I hope Atlantis agrees to his request and he remains here”

“Is there any doubt that Atlantis will agree?”

“There is always doubt when you deal with the Gods; but Sven is his son; if he cannot remain here then Briscoe is his last hope; merfolk don’t do well by themselves, we are a family, a tribe; we need each other”

“He needs his brothers now that’s for sure”

“Margaret is coming; I will introduce you and whilst she attends to Sven I will show you the armoury; though we have no blade as fine as yours; I also suggest we find something for you to wear”

“I haven’t felt the cold”

“You will but you need protection too; I see the pearl carrying shell is marked; a ray?”

“Yes, we were attacked at the edge of Middle Waters”

“You wielded the blade?”

“Yes; almost without thinking; like an instinct”

“It is the bonding; it transfers a kind of memory but me thinks Poseidon guided your hand too”

Margaret approached;

“Margaret!” hailed Kyle

The healer was old, ancient but vital and the eyes were everywhere, the boring gaze hidden behind a tranquil smile;

“Kyle and…”

“Jeremiah great lady” Jeremiah replied and he didn’t know a better form of address

“Call me Margaret please; Jeremiah; that is a curious name; you know the story?”

“Yes, Sven told me”

“How is he?”

“Drowsy; Ingrid said you would need to see him immediately”

“I will do what I can; but the numbing agent used by the rays is difficult to combat; leave him to me and it would be better if we were alone”

“Thank you”

“Come Jeremiah; I’ll show you the armoury”

They left her to administer the healing and Kyle escorted Jeremiah out of the reception hall to a building somewhat further on and on the opposite side of the rift; it was heavily guarded.

“Why do store so many arms?” asked Jeremiah as he looked upon the vast array of weapons

“Some are trophies from earlier times but we hold the armoury for the merfolk; it was Sven the Elder who created it with Atlantis; should there ever be another war like the one with Trillion he was adamant we would be ready for the call…”

“Life seems harsh here…”

“It is harsher than Middle Waters or Southern Reaches but that is mainly due to the cold…here it is, the armour that I was searching for and it would serve you well”

“Who wore it before me?”

“Sven…”

“Oh; but…”

“Jeremiah, you feel like a very small fish in a very big Ocean but don’t be afraid or feel unworthy; you brought the pearls and saved the life of a merman”

“Neither feels like they have prepared me for the trials ahead; I’ve stumbled on something much bigger than I imagined; much bigger than I wanted…”

“Some have greatness thrust upon them…isn’t that what you say?”

“Yes” and Jeremiah laughed

“Try it on and you may feel less small” was all Kyle said

The armour was made of shells not unlike the shell of the pearl carrier; there was a piece that fitted across the chest and was laced with a similar piece that was slung across the back. Jeremiah felt like a tortoise but rather than feeling the weight and the confinement he found the suit to be well fitting and light;

“Here is the helmet” said Kyle has he handed over the close fitting cap that laced under the chin. The nose guard looked more like a beak then he really did feel like a tortoise!

There were separate guards for the forearms, tied on;

“You’ll soon adapt to the weight and learn how to move…you need something to cover your…”

An awkwardness descended;

“I should have worn trunks” said Jeremiah realising instantly what he was referring to and until then it hadn’t mattered, or seemingly it hadn’t, but as no merfolk displayed their genitals he suddenly felt very exposed;

“Don’t be embarrassed Jeremiah; if you feel more comfortable then wear this”

It was a shell; shaped more like a cricketer’s “box” and it was fastened with three wide straps;

“That’s better; now you are protected”

“Kyle; Logan said I should apply to you as and when I need to bond for the expiry of the month approaches”

“How many days remain?”

“Full moon”

“Not easy to forget; good, ten days; yes, I will bond with you…I have done it before”

“Poseidon said there was one such as me here; at least there was in the past; he thought his name was Malachi…”

“There was a man; with the “gift”; his name was Malachi; he left more than a hundred years ago”

“Oh; I should have liked to have spoken with him; Poseidon will transform me but I need to think about the consequences”

“Think hard; his life, Malachi’s, was difficult”

“Why?”

“He had no place, a lesser merman than the human he was; weaker and slower, a burden, especially as he got older”

“Why did he receive the “gift”?”

“Oh, payment for some debt no doubt”

“No one thinks it is a good idea”

“Do what you think is right Jeremiah but think very hard and talk to Atlantis”

“When will we see him?”

“Tomorrow; he is in deep counsel with Prow just now; the grey one is rarely wrong and the numbers seeking sanctuary in the rift swell hourly and only the Leviathan’s escape can account for it; scouts are due back by midnight to confirm if the demon’s prison is empty”

“What will we do?”

“Take up arms and fight; there is no other way; the beast will consume us and everything else”

“If we have to wait to see Atlantis then maybe the time would be well spent learning to use the blade properly…”

Kyle eyed him for a moment;

“You do not need to take any part of this; you brought the pearls and Sven to the healer; you can go home and your deeds will be remembered”

“Poseidon gave me his blade; if I win honour on the battlefield then maybe I will earn a place with merfolk if I decide to receive the “gift”…”

“Kill the Leviathan Jeremiah; it would earn you immortality”

But before Jeremiah could quiz Kyle on that statement a guardsman arrived with a summons; an audience with Atlantis;

“So soon?” Jeremiah said

“Come; you are dressed in a manner befitting an audience with a God”

They swam out and headed up the rift to the palace.

Chapter Nineteen – The audience with Atlantis

They’d left before Jeremiah had seen Sven or asked Margaret how he was but it felt like time was running;

“Atlantis is “Lord Protector”, answer his questions fully and honestly but don’t be afraid of him; he is more human than Poseidon”

Jeremiah thought of Poseidon as a lonely and tired old man; very “human” in fact

“What do I say of Sven’s “transgression”?”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow but Jeremiah was sure he knew the truth;

“He will know all by virtue of the messenger fish but you bear messages from Poseidon; they will say all that needs to be said”

They approached the palace and a palace it was; not a dead reef or a cave this!

The shelf upon which the palace was built was reached by a broad winding staircase, many yards wide and it ascended for perhaps two hundred feet. The palace was like a pinnacle, a spiral, like a shell, coming to a point not much wider than a finger; it rose three or four hundred feet from the ledge and almost reached the lip of the rift; in older times a bridge had connected the very top of the palace to the base of the crystal but it had fallen down. Like so much of the buildings in the rift the palace was covered in the dead crust that was once bacteria and it glowed, rather it shone, the light reflected by the facets of the stone in the rift. They reached the stairs and began to ascend;

“Why are there stairs?” asked Jeremiah who had out of habit begun to climb them with his legs whilst Kyle swam slowly beside him

“For guests…”

“Guests with legs?”

“Crabs, lobsters…”

“Oh, yes, of course”

“And deep in the past, men…”

The import of that was lost as sights began to bombard Jeremiah; fountains of light, gardens, groves of the youngest kelp, pools within pools filled with starfish;

“What is that?” he asked pointing to a kind of enclave

“The stables…for the sea horses”

“It’s huge” exclaimed Jeremiah thinking then that there must be thousands if not millions housed there

“Not the sea horses you are accustomed to; the kin of the mighty sea horses that drew the chariots of our Lords; related to Pegasus and all are white…”

Jeremiah was about to ask if he could see them but Kyle said;

“All in good time; Atlantis summoned us; we should make reasonable haste”

They quickened their pace and ascended the stairs to the plateau upon which the palace was perched but it looked like it had grown out of the rock. They had seen no one;

“Where is everyone?” asked Jeremiah

Kyle said nothing and they approached the doors to the palace; huge doors not unlike the gates they had passed through at the beginning of the rift; they were open and unmanned;

“Enter the palace of Atlantis our Lord Protector” said Kyle and Jeremiah stepped through into the main chamber;

“Oh my God” he managed for the sight caught his breath

It was like the inside of a beautiful shell, smooth and polished, iridescent, lit by hundreds of jellyfish that floated throughout the palace, their pale bluish light reflected in hundreds of mirrors;

“Welcome” a voice boomed from the stairs that led upwards that hugged the wall;

“Lord Protector” said Kyle clasping his fist to his chest in a kind of salute; merfolk didn’t bow easily

“Lord Protector” repeated Jeremiah but unsure of what to do with his hands

“Jeremiah, come, I seek your counsel”

Jeremiah glanced at Kyle;

“All is well Jeremiah; have no fear, tell the truth but be wary of making any bargains”

Jeremiah proceeded; swimming this time for it was quicker. As he drew closer to the man stood on the stairs he saw a young man; not a crumbling stone effigy like Poseidon but a strong and confident warrior who looked not much older than Sven;

“I suppose I must thank you” the man said

“The pearls are my gift; they warrant no thanks”

“The pearls will save lives; I thank you from the deepest well of my heart for those; I was referring to your travelling companion”

“He needed to see the healer”

“He will need his strength”

And with those words Jeremiah had gotten as close as he deemed appropriate and it was like he was looking at Sven, a Godly version of the young merman he had saved;

“Lord Protector” said Jeremiah

“Welcome to the Northern Realm Jeremiah; Poseidon has shared with me all that I need to know; although he knew nothing of the Leviathan; he will by now; there is no time to waste”

“I…”

“Have no idea what on Earth or under the sea is going on or what will happen next…war Jeremiah, the defeat of the Leviathan, perhaps a battle or two with the raymen; skirmishes with the Orca hordes…you will have need of the blade and the armour; but come; there is still time and I would know things…”

Atlantis ascended the stairs and Jeremiah followed. They climbed the stairs to near the highest point of the palace and entered a chamber that looked out down the rift to the Gates of Sven;

“The mustering has begun and millions seek protection; the Leviathan is abroad, the prison was empty, the gates unhinged, Poseidon’s Wrath the culprit” said Atlantis as he looked out, Jeremiah came to his side but held back a pace or two

“How should we defeat it; Prow said it would take all three Gods and their armies…”

“It will and more; maybe it will take us all this time…many will die; but we cannot fail, the evil unleashed will destroy everything if we do nothing”

“How?”

“Someone needs to get close enough to deal the fatal blow”

“A single blow?”

“With that blade, yes; getting close enough is the problem; the Leviathan has many allies too, none more deadly than the snakes”

“Will you grant him sanctuary?” asked Jeremiah, probably breaking all rules of protocol but seeing as Atlantis knew all there was no point being coy

“Yes, he is my son; if he recovers from the attack by the rays then I shall bestow my blade on him and command that he protects you to his last ounce of strength and if he dies then he should count himself lucky”

“I did not save him three times to see him die”

“In the face of the Leviathan you will have more than enough to think about”

“Do you seriously expect me to kill this beast; I never killed anything”

“You have the blade”

“Logan gave it to me; I had no idea it was Poseidon’s blade then”

“Ah; next time you see Poseidon you must challenge him over that; better still if you do it with the Leviathan dead at your feet”

“Apparently that will earn me immortality”

“Do you not wish to live for eternity?”

“I suppose it depends on the World I live in and who I could share it with”

Atlantis smiled; maybe it echoed something, a very, very old joke or perhaps even a proverb;

“Kill it first and worry about that after”

Jeremiah felt more than ever that if Drotha had plans for Sven then Poseidon had plans for him;

“Don’t think too much about it Jeremiah; a massing of the armies will take weeks but the Leviathan will not be idle; if Sven regains the use of his tail then I suggest that a small force, maybe twenty mermen go scouting; the call to arms has been issued, I sent it before you arrived”

“Where will we muster?”

“The Plains of Ur; from the dawn of our time it is where such battles were fought…go and see Sven; come back later, there are things I want to show you…”

“Thank you Lord Protector”

Jeremiah left and Atlantis stood like rock and looked out down the rift and still more came but his brow was not furrowed like Poseidon’s, no, it looked like he was relishing the chance to do battle.

The Changeling Moon

Part Two of ‘The Awakening’

By

Alp Mortal

Text Copyright© Alp Mortal 2014

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One – The Sea Horses

Jeremiah left and the palace was deserted so he swam out onto the plateau and headed for the stairway that led down to the floor of the rift. He found Kyle there.

“Kyle.”

“Jeremiah…let us go to Sven and see how he is.”

“Yes. I wish to see him. Atlantis, Lord Protector, said something which I want to discuss with him.”

“The massing of the armies will take some weeks. There is time for much to be discussed and agreed, but, whether you realised it or not, and whether you like it or not, you will be at the thick of things. You need to be prepared and I have an idea. Speed is a merman’s primary weapon; he is as fast as a dolphin and few can out-pace them. You need the advantage of speed. You have the strength and the stamina, and perhaps your legs will prove to be advantageous in some way-”

“Let’s see Sven first…”

Jeremiah wished to push all other thoughts out of his mind for the time being. As they swam down the rift, he was aware that Atlantis was probably watching him.

They met Margaret in the sanctuary.

“He is resting, sleeping very deeply, and I do not expect him to wake for at least two days. When he does, the antidote that I have administered will have worked or it will have not. If it hasn’t, there is nothing more I can do. So we wait,” she advised.

“Thank you Margaret,” said Jeremiah.

“Don’t thank me yet, and I’m sure Sven will have thanks enough for two if he recovers.”

“How confident are you that the antidote will work?”

“I’ve seen worse and I’ve seen better,” was all that she would be drawn to say, and Jeremiah took that to mean fifty-fifty.

“Jeremiah, if it eases your mind then go and see him. Whilst he sleeps, take the opportunity to rest as well, or, if you want, I will show you the sea horses,” offered Kyle.

“I will see him for a minute and then I would very much like to see the horses.”

“You smile at last. I will wait here.”

Jeremiah ventured into the sick bay where Sven was the only patient. He was asleep on a bed of kelp. He hovered by the merman’s bedside just looking down on the sleeping form. Sven’s face was peaceful and never more beautiful.

“What kind of gift are you Sven? Nothing but trouble so far. If you recover then we have things to do and if we are very, very lucky, then we may both get what we want. I’ve saved your life three times now; I don’t wish to save it a fourth. So, get well and ready your hand for the blade that your father plans to place in it.”

Jeremiah left his side and went back out to find Kyle, quietly very excited at the prospect of seeing the horses. They made their way back up the rift to the stables.

“The horses are, almost without the need to say it, very special.”

“Are they related to the kind that I know?”

Kyle laughed good-naturedly.

“No. These are magical beasts, created by the Gods. They are curious so do not be surprised if they come up to you and their faces are almost human.”

Two guards stood at the entrance to the stables. They moved aside to allow Kyle and Jeremiah to go in. Jeremiah could hear them, not that the sound resembled any kind of “neighing” he had heard before. It was musical; higher in note so it sounded more like a flute, though one sounded like an oboe or bass clarinet. The stables were built like the rest of the city, from kelp, covered in the dead bodies of billions of bacteria, hardened to form a structure, cathedral-like, their dead forms emitting the eternal light.

The horses were pure white and for a second it was impossible to make out a definite shape. They were like pearl white clouds; hovering clouds; musical, hovering clouds.

“Jesus,” whispered Jeremiah to himself. A second later one of the clouds moved very quickly in his direction.

“Have no fear Jeremiah;” said Kyle, “It is Throne, their king.”

The “horse” approached and stopped just in front of Jeremiah.

“Do they understand what we say?” asked Jeremiah, without turning his head for the horse’s face, especially the eyes, held him transfixed.

“The sense of what you say, certainly.”

“I am Jeremiah.”

The horse let out the loudest ear splitting note that brought the entire rift to its senses, and to his utter amazement, the horse knelt before him, bowing its noble head.

“He invites you to touch him Jeremiah,” whispered Kyle.

Jeremiah reached out slowly and placed his hand between the upright ears of the horse king. Unlike land-bound horses, the hair was not coarse but like silk and Jeremiah was moved to rub the head. He was enthused with a deep joy; from whence that came he knew not.

“Throne welcomes you like no other,” said the astonished Kyle.

“He has no saddle,” queried Jeremiah.

“No one has ever ridden a sea horse Jeremiah. They allow themselves to be harnessed only to draw the chariot of the Gods.”

Whilst Kyle answered the question, the horse moved to present its side to Jeremiah and it leaned in a little.

“Until now…”

These majestic beasts were like their land cousins except that they had wings; not for flight but for propelling themselves through the water at great speeds.

Jeremiah moved closer. He’d never ridden a horse in his life. The horse lifted its wings and pushed them forward and Jeremiah eased himself on to the back of the great stallion. The wings grew from the shoulder and his knees slipped in behind them and gave some support. He held the edge of the wing near the base and leaned forward a little. Almost before he’d settled himself the horse moved off. Instinctively he leaned further forward and placed his arms around the neck of the beast, his cheek pressed against the side of the horse’s head. Taking that as a signal that he was ready, Throne turned and with two mighty “flaps” of the wings was already out of the stables and into the rift.

Jeremiah looked back and down to see Kyle stood outside the entrance, stupefied with wonder.

They hit a “gallop” within seconds and Jeremiah didn’t need to say anything since he heard the horse’s thoughts in his head as clearly as he heard his own.

“Down to the gates and back,” he urged, and the horse doubled its speed.

They flew like a dart and Jeremiah kept his head down. The rift was heaving with millions of creatures and still more were entering the valley.

“I hope you’re ready for the fight,” Jeremiah said to them.

“Orca!” Throne cried in his head.

A pod was hovering just outside the gates.

“They won’t attack here.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Throne replied, and Jeremiah sensed the pod was readying itself.

Clearly the pod hadn’t seen one of the horses before and was probably unsure of what the creature was. That thought was still going through their heads when Throne smashed into their midst, scattering them like billiard balls. Several received deep gashes along their flanks from his silver shod hooves. Before they could regroup, Throne had banked around and shot back up the rift.

“Was it wise to incur their wrath, Throne?”

“They play both sides Jeremiah; hovering in the ‘peaceful’ formation at our doors. Doubtless they have already been recruited to the Leviathan’s camp.”

“The Leviathan…”

“We must leave soon Jeremiah. You must know thine enemy.”

“In the face of such a danger I doubt that even your speed and my blade will be enough.”

“Have more faith; today was play!”

They headed back and Throne dropped to the stables, depositing Jeremiah in front of Kyle, still stood dumfounded just as they had left him.

“Tomorrow, Jeremiah,” Throne said in parting.

“I shall never see the like of it again before I draw my last breath,” Kyle finally managed, and Jeremiah stood grinning in front of him.

“I’m hungry, Kyle. Let’s eat!” Jeremiah demanded, as a way of breaking the spell.

Kyle showed them to the Mess Hall and it was the first time that Jeremiah had seen so many mermen of the Northern Realm in one place. The Hall was scattered with pod-like tables that rose on thin columns to the height of Jeremiah’s head. There were no chairs. Groups of mermen occupied each table; suspended in the water like so many sea horses of the regular kind. All paused and stared at Jeremiah, as he and Kyle entered.

“Your antics on Throne precede you, Jeremiah, and no doubt your blade and travelling companion. The audience with Our Lord Protector and-“

“You stare at one who feeds your bellies and saves our kin; show more respect!”

The booming voice had not come from Kyle but another merman, from half way down the Hall. A merman of great stature, and if his size was any clue, probably the General that Kyle had mentioned, Striel.

“Is that…?”

“Striel? Yes, the General of the Army of the Northern Realm”

A ripple passed through the ranks as the General propelled himself to where Jeremiah and Kyle had stopped. The General was twice the size of any other merman that Jeremiah had seen. Upon his head he wore a helmet fashioned from the skull of a walrus. The huge tusks framed his face; as if he needed anything more imposing! They curved to meet at his chin.

“Kyle!” he boomed.

“General…”

He eyed Jeremiah for a moment or two before extending his hand.

“General Striel…” he formally announced.

Jeremiah reached out to grasp his hand. Despite the gravity of the situation, he was struggling to keep the smile from his face; his hand was no bigger than a child’s in comparison. “How prophetic,” he thought.

“Jeremiah, at your command, General,” Jeremiah stated formally, as his hand slipped into the other man’s who gripped his firmly.

The mention of his name sent a tremor around the room as rumours were thus confirmed.

“The honour is mine.”

The eyes held Jeremiah and seemingly some questions were answered as the General broke into a smile and then escorted them to his table.

“Throne will make a mighty seat if you will excuse the pun,” said the General.

“An army of horses such as he might tip the balance,” thrust in Kyle.

“Twenty will suffice with this man, and his blade, at their head.”

And it seemed to Jeremiah that they spoke of him rather than to him; much like you would of a warrior long since dead but still remembered for his act of bravery.

“Twenty against the Leviathan?” posed Jeremiah.

“Speed and agility, Jeremiah, that’s what we need. But even twenty horses like Throne are no match for a battalion of raymen and Orca. We’ll keep them busy whilst you deliver the fatal blow. Tomorrow the twenty will assemble and ride out; you will lead them on Throne.”

“I never commanded men before, General.”

“You command Throne; it is enough.”

The conversation moved to more light-hearted matters until it came to Sven and his condition.

“If the rumour is true, and I don’t expect you to confirm or deny it, Jeremiah, but if it is, then Sven will find few friends here. If his father puts his blade in his son’s hand then none will argue, but he’ll fight alone.”

Jeremiah grew more anxious as the weight of resentment increased, and it seemed nothing Sven could do would expunge the sin. It would be a test of character, he thought to himself, but doubted, on the basis of what he had seen, that Sven possessed the character to do it.

“I would, with your permission General, retire and prepare myself for tomorrow,” said Jeremiah, excusing himself as he readied to leave. “I will visit Sven and talk with Margaret if she is still there.”

“Sleep well, Jeremiah, you’ll need your strength these next days,” the General replied.

“I will come with you as far as the Sick Bay, Jeremiah,” offered Kyle, “I have some thoughts I would share with you.”

They left and as they passed out of the Hall Jeremiah heard the volume of the noise of chatter increase.

“Worry not, Jeremiah, deeds always speak louder than words. I wanted to say something to you. If we leave the rift tomorrow, and we are gone more than ten days, then I will need to bond with you. I will, don’t worry about that. You are vulnerable all the while you need the bonding to bestow the gift. Once the battle starts it will be, at best, inconvenient. All mermen can bestow the gift; most would, but some would decline. If you have a mind to change for good, then, I say do it sooner rather than later.”

“I am almost certain that it is what I want, Kyle, but I wish to wait a little longer. I must wait to see Poseidon before I can be changed, in any event.”

“We will see him; we will see them all, before the next time. Do not worry about the command that Striel places at your feet. You command Throne; he commands the rest. Our foray tomorrow is to search out the Leviathan, at least evidence of it. We will not engage until the mustering. The messengers have been sent but it will take some weeks for the call to reach Briscoe.”

“Sven needs to heal and get strong.”

“He needs his father’s blade and a skin tougher than your armour. However, if Lord Protector commands him to safeguard you, none will oppose him he if carries the Kindred Blade.”

“I will go to him now and rest by his side. If what Margaret says is true, he will not wake until after we have left.”

“He could not leave until he had seen his father. Rest easy, Jeremiah.”

“Rest well, Kyle.”

Jeremiah headed into the Sick Bay and Kyle headed back to The Armoury, avoiding the Hall. He did not want to be plagued by hundreds of questions. A little mystery surrounding Jeremiah would do no harm; as if the legend wasn’t enough!

Chapter Two – The Riders

Jeremiah went swiftly to Sven’s bed. The light was dim and the room was deserted save for the young merman. His scintillating electric blue tail shone coolly in the pale light. Sven was on a bed of kelp and Jeremiah found it easier to sit on the sandy floor, cross-legged; especially so, once he’d shed the armour. For ten minutes he just sat and gazed upon the young merman’s face.

“I ride out on Throne tomorrow at the head of the party that seeks out the Leviathan. I should be more confident if you were with me. Margaret says you’ll not be awake and when you do, the healing will have worked or it will not; so we just have to see. Your father will command you to protect me. With the Kindred Blade in your hand I hope the tide will begin to turn.”

Perhaps out of need, or maybe instinct, Jeremiah stretched out his hand and laid it on Sven’s arm. The skin was cool and the energy that throbbed beneath the surface was quiet; not weak, just quiet; garnering itself or diverted elsewhere, Jeremiah thought. He stroked the arm very gently. Sven shifted slightly. The energy within the pearly surface hummed for a moment, like a hive of bees all beating their wings for a few seconds; then all became quiet and peaceful again.

“You look like your father and he looks as young as you; nothing like I imagined. I met Striel, the General of the Army. I think he is a little envious that Throne chose me; though I’m not sure how a merman rides a horse. I found it easy and Throne spoke to me inside my head. The Orcas were mustering at the gate, feigning the peace formation; Throne scattered them like bowling pins.”

Jeremiah shuffled closer and placed both his hands on Sven’s arm, gently gripping it. After a silent prayer he slipped both hands down to clasp the merman’s own hand. He recited the Lord’s Prayer out loud, for no other reason than it was the only one he knew by heart.

“Please recover, Sven. If you are disabled or weakened then it will all have been so pointless; needless suffering. If you loved Abrial, then I hope you can love me. If I ask for the gift of change, and I think I will, then we should not be so different, you and I. Once all this war is over, we could find a place to live together where nothing else would matter. You would out live me but I’d try to make you happy. If you prefer to be with your own kind; create a child or stay here in the north, I will understand. Please give me a chance.”

Jeremiah was certain that he wouldn’t have been so candid had Sven been awake.

“I think I love you. Poseidon saw it more plainly than I do. It has been a very long time, too long, since I held another’s body close to mine and pressed my lips against theirs.”

Jeremiah leaned forward and very gently placed a kiss on the merman’s lips. There the power was still strong.

“I must rest. Tomorrow I will be tested to my limits.”

Jeremiah lay down beside Sven, moulding his body to the odd contours; finding a comfortable space. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost within seconds.

Sven opened his eyes briefly and smiled. He wrapped his arms around Jeremiah and drew him gently to himself. For the first time in his life he wished he had legs; legs he could have intertwined with Jeremiah’s. And for the first time in his life he felt the stirring in his loins that signalled a need far beyond the mere instinct to mate.

The level of light didn’t change but the buzz of activity roused Jeremiah. After allowing himself a brief few minutes to re-capture the feeling of having Sven’s body pressed up close against his, he left the Sick Bay, but not until he’d kissed Sven once more.

The Sick Bay was still empty; all the noise was coming from outside in the rift, specifically from the area in front of the stables. Jeremiah ventured out, hoping to see a familiar face immediately. He did, Kyle’s.

“How is he?” Kyle asked.

“Sleeping.”

“Ready?”

Jeremiah smiled nervously.

“I have the armour, the blade and the steed…”

Kyle smiled too and dropped a black pearl into his hand.

“Swallow this; it’s the last of the best. Pray Briscoe brings more.”

Jeremiah swallowed the pearl which was about the size of a grape. The effect was instant.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Ten times more potent than the ones we get from Middle Waters. Come! The riders are assembling and Throne is looking for you.”

The idea that the horse was looking for him was just as bizarre as everything else. They swam swiftly to the stables and Throne parted the crowds and knelt before Jeremiah as he had done the first time, the day before. It was easier to ignore the hundred pairs of eyes scrutinising his every action if he just concentrated on getting on the back of the horse with as much aplomb as he could muster. Fortunately, his shaking wasn’t so obvious in the water. Once he was on the back of the beast, he felt calmer. The horse’s presence was like a suit of armour that covered his whole body.

“Good morning, Throne,” he said.

“Jeremiah, are you ready?”

“Ask me another!”

The horse neighed and brought the herd to attention and the onlookers fell silent. Throne rose above everyone’s head and the nineteen others fanned out each side, like birds in formation, readying themselves to fly south for the winter. Each of the other horses had a rider, and like he, all were new to the experience. They could not sit astride the horse as he could. They all adopted the same pose; with outstretched hands they gripped the base of the wings where they joined the horse’s body. They lay along the back of the horse, keeping the profile very streamlined. As the horse moved forward the merman’s body lifted slightly and he was able to move his tail. This increased their speed considerably. The disadvantage was that the merman could not wield a weapon whilst in full flight.

Throne was evidently waiting for something because he did not move off. Then the crowd parted and Atlantis, Lord Protector, arrived, clad in armour, carrying the Kindred Blade. All bowed their heads.

“Lift up your heads and do not bow them again until after the enemy is defeated.” He turned to address Throne and Jeremiah. “Find the Leviathan and report back. If you happen to kill it, all the better…” and his laugh was deep and melodious. “Be back here by Full Moon.”

“As you command, Lord” replied Jeremiah, barely audibly. In truth it had been Throne who had answered.

Some kind of chant started up and Jeremiah strained to catch it. Each line was repeated three times.

“Legends live;

Myths are made;

Dreams come true.

Fight to the death;

Glory be your sword;

Honour the blood of the kin that fall;

Crack our enemies’

SHELLS!”

The last word was shouted in jubilation. Throne used it to signal the off and twenty sea horses bolted out of the rift like twenty arrows fired from twenty bows.

“Hold tight, Jeremiah!”

Only by virtue of the fact that the other horses had the benefit of the merman powering their tails in time with the beat of their wings could they keep up with Throne. Jeremiah felt awkward that they had to work so hard, whereas he just needed to hold on. Throne heard his thoughts.

“Worry not about them. Their names will be remembered for centuries.”

Within what felt like seconds they were out of the rift and Throne chose to use the gate, barely skimming over the creatures that still poured in. The pod of Orca was nowhere to be seen.

“Where first?” asked Jeremiah.

“The Ice Prison. From there we’ll pick up the trail.”

“How long?”

“One day at this speed, two, if we conserve some strength. I am expecting a skirmish as the enemy tests our metal; or should I say, your metal…”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Fear paralyses, think of the glory; think of the face of the one you love.”

Jeremiah immediately thought of Sven and Throne saw the image.

“No easy life you give yourself Jeremiah. Hold tighter, we need some distance from here. Then we will rest and discuss tactics with the others.”

He shot forward as if the Devil himself was on his tail and the rest strained to keep up; they did, and seemed to relish it in fact. Jeremiah only saw smiles on the faces of the other mermen he could see. Kyle was immediately to his right and was beaming. Forn was on his left, looking equally elated. Gradually, Throne slowed and signalled to the others that they were stopping. Up ahead there was a bare, smooth, featureless patch of the Ocean bed. Throne dropped down to it.

“Why here?” questioned Jeremiah, “what is this place?”

“It is the cemetery of the Northern Realm.”

Jeremiah involuntarily shuddered.

“Fear not, there are no ghosts. When a merman dies he is left here. The creatures in the sea eat his body and take his spirit far and wide.”

The description did nothing to quell Jeremiah’s apprehension. They descended but did not touch down. They remained hanging in the water two or three feet above the sandy surface. The horses formed a circle and the mermen swam forward and rested just in front of their mounts. If Jeremiah had ever been intimidated in the past it was nothing compared to how he felt now. The energy emanating from this group pressed against his skin. He felt crushed, like a tin can sinking into the deep trench of the Southern Reaches. Kyle must have sensed it. Jeremiah had relinquished his hold on Throne in order to move forward and the protective shield of the horse’s aura no longer gave him the confidence he’d had.

“We must welcome a brother into our ranks. Brothers!” Kyle commanded, and the mermen moved forward, drawing Jeremiah in and tightening the circle around him. The horses moved too and raised their wings to create a solid wall around them. Closer the mermen moved and Jeremiah felt panicky and sought out Kyle’s face for some reassurance. It was a mask of concentration. The mermen had moved forward until their shoulders touched; they couldn’t move further without breaking the symmetry of the ring. They lifted their arms and with fingertips outstretched each merman touched Jeremiah; the circle a wheel, their arms the spokes and he at the hub.

Energy flowed down the mermen’s arms and through him, to join with other streams and the streams got mixed and travelled both up and down the spokes and around the group and Jeremiah was held in a pillar of the essence of these ‘men’; the source of their courage, their spirit, the well of their soul. And whilst connected he shared their thoughts and feelings and they, his. Fear was split and shared and quelled; joy shared and multiplied.

Unashamedly and, seemingly uniformly, they spoke of their loves and desires. A kaleidoscope of images flashed in Jeremiah’s mind’s eye; the faces of loved ones and cherished objects; lips recounting deeds and victories, lips singing songs and reciting poems, lips murmuring the names of lovers and tender declarations. Jeremiah shared his too, without censor, without shame, without seeking approval; none was given because none was needed. He could not stop the flow but he didn’t want to because he felt that he belonged to something; a brotherhood. Then he realised that they were all like him; and the images of the lovers they shared were all…of mermen.

His enlightenment infused the energy net with a joy greater than he could imagine ever experiencing and something else, acceptance. At first a question and then a nineteen fold answer. Lurking in the corners of the myriad of images were the dark passions and undisclosed desires, unspoken needs and the unhealed wounds of ecstasy. The energy was building to a crescendo, a physical sensation; no longer confined to the mind. And words cut their way through the flux and spelt out the same phrase, over and over, “I desire you”; the words repeated endlessly until Jeremiah was sure he would ejaculate them over the sand as they struggled to find space in his mind and body.

Like the energy in the crystal beacons, the energy in the wheel began to pulse, moving them higher, each pulse concentrated in his loins until he was sure it would explode or implode. There was a release; a final, triumphant and gargantuan surge that sent up the energy into a ball above their heads where it stayed for a few seconds before it came crashing down. It passed through Jeremiah at the centre of the wheel, and then it was shared and each man received a twentieth part. And in that instant, just as he had with Throne, he felt connected and protected. He was now both protected and protector, giver and receiver, a brother. The hands were dropped and his share of the energy was sucked into his core and had it not been for the arms that suddenly reached out he would have collapsed.

Without hesitation or shame, each merman came forward to embrace him and kiss him on the mouth; the passion of the kiss no less extraordinary for the tenderness that accompanied it. Kyle ventured forward last.

“Welcome Brother; you will never stand alone.”

“But I am just a…”

“You are one of us. Now let’s kill some Orca!”

The ring was broken and the men mounted their horses and waited for Jeremiah to bring Throne to the head of their formation.

“Still afraid?” Throne asked, and Jeremiah sensed he was laughing.

“No…and some of this armour is no longer as comfortable as it was!”

He and Throne touched down to bound off and twenty darts smote the gloom leaving their hoof marks in the sand.

Chapter Three – The Orca and the Ice Prison

Swimming at such speeds did not allow Jeremiah much opportunity to study anything. His eyesight was that much keener but it was still just a blur. Instead, he plagued Throne with a hundred questions and begged him to teach him the language of the merfolk.

“You are not very humanlike, Jeremiah. Most just want to dominate and destroy.”

“Many humans are like that but many are not.”

“It is the first time a…stranger…has been accepted into the Brotherhood.”

And Jeremiah was sure Throne had meant to say “human” or even “alien”.

“I cannot express myself.”

“There is no need. All saw inside your heart and saw the purity; anything less and they would have expelled you. Now you are chain mail, bound like rings of steel until death.”

“What of Sven? Will he be welcomed into the Brotherhood?”

“It is not for me to say.”

Jeremiah thought that was just a convenient way of avoiding the truth; that Sven would not be welcomed. And that would present the first test. Could a lover, if that was what he became, exist outside of the group? Other mermen’s lovers did, and happily. Jeremiah did not think Sven would be so happy.

“Don’t dwell on that Jeremiah. Sven has choices to make himself. If you do not end up with Sven, I count at least five others who would try to make you happy.”

“Then I should make a decision and allow Poseidon to change me.”

“Let us just say that there will be no lack of volunteers for the job of bonding with you this Full Moon!”

For all the jesting, Jeremiah had to apply serious thought to the prospect of a life as a merhuman, and perhaps one without Sven.

At the next rest stop he stole glances around the group and looked for the most likely bonding ‘volunteers’. Two or three of the mermen smiled more broadly than their brethren. Still, this was unhelpful and he reminded himself of the task in hand and the fact that he’d be lucky to stay alive until Full Moon. As if running from time itself he pushed their pace until Throne signalled that they risked exhaustion, though he was exhilarated.

“We’ll rest for some hours here and then we’ll approach the Ice Prison,” Throne advised. “The water feels much cooler. We are not too far; an hour at a steadier pace. Rest Jeremiah and speak with the others; touch the other horses. This brotherhood and cavalry is only as strong as the love held within the net.”

Jeremiah set off to see the other horses, all of whom were like Throne, albeit most were smaller. They jostled to place their foreheads under his palm. Their energy was like chattering birds; they were childlike in their enthusiasm and very affectionate. It was also a time to get better acquainted with the mermen, most of whom Jeremiah had not even seen before. The bonding had shared many things, but simple things like names had been overwritten by the experience. He sought out Kyle and Forn, the two he did know.

“Jeremiah…”

“Kyle…Forn.”

“Come and meet the others; without the spectacle!”

Kyle guided Jeremiah over to the small groups of mermen and without any awkwardness they welcomed their brother and the banter started immediately.  Jeremiah remembered that these were Northern mermen, physically bigger and stronger than their Middle Water and Southern brethren. They had hardier features than Sven, tougher looking skins; all wore capes of fur and most had armour, somewhat like his. Poseidon called them, ‘aquatic Vikings’ and the label was well deserved. No merman cut his hair but these mermen had wild locks, manes that reached down their backs to the tops of their tails, darker in colour than the golden hair of the Middle Water mermen. Perpetually at war with the Orca, and in a constant battle with the strong tides, they had magnificent bodies; hewn from rock, it seemed to Jeremiah, but he also knew the tenderness that existed therein. Many, when he approached to properly make their acquaintance, kissed him. It took him by surprise and his bashfulness provided ample fodder for banter around the group.

Two or three made their feelings known in simple and honest statements. Marcus, an older merman and battle-worn, simply said, “I would try to make you happy and honour the bond of our union.”

Dumbfounded, Jeremiah merely replied, ‘Thank you’. None expected any declarations of love. All knew of Sven; all had seen inside his mind and knew the difficulties that lay ahead. Jeremiah instantly liked Marcus; he liked the plain and simply honesty. It contrasted so starkly against Sven’s recklessness, negligence and arrogance, though they had been blunted somewhat by the disability he’d suffered at the hands of Drotha’s guard.

Jeremiah sensed that the others had moved away a little to leave Marcus alone by his side. Marcus asked Jeremiah some innocent questions about his home and family. Jeremiah sensed a longing in the eyes, the pain of needs unfulfilled. Marcus reached out and picked up Jeremiah’s hand, just loosely at first. There was nothing for them to watch, the Ocean about them was empty. It concentrated their feelings and Jeremiah could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“Marcus…” he stuttered, unsure of the ground.

“Worry not, Jeremiah, being close is enough for now. For the longest time I just wanted someone to hold and press to my chest and know that there was another single living soul that felt as I.”

“Have you not found companionship within the Brotherhood?”

“At times; nothing permanent…yet.”

“If you want to…I mean, but only if you …”

Throne called them to attention. Jeremiah was glad for the interruption on the one hand; pained on the other that there may not be another opportunity for some time to explain to Marcus how he felt.

“Later, Jeremiah,” Marcus threw back, as he moved swiftly to his mount.

They waited for Jeremiah to climb on the back of Throne and to show them the way. They moved off slowly at first. Now stealth was important because Orca patrolled the waters near the prison.

The water was appreciably colder. Jeremiah didn’t feel cold but he felt the energy draining from his limbs now. Throne began to ascend a little.

“Soon we will enter the waters around the prison. The icebergs will give us some protection from prying eyes, but it is doubtful that we will not have to fight.”

“Orca?”

“Most likely; not rays this far North, or sea snakes.”

The moved slowly and entered a different realm. More light filtered down from the surface and it illuminated the huge icebergs that, in the half light, looked like ships, partially sunk, bobbing like corks in the near freezing brine. Between the icebergs there were corridors and alleyways, like a maze; all shifting.

“How do you know where we are going, Throne?”

“There is a beacon at the prison; you will feel it soon.”

They ducked and dived and at one point broke the surface. Jeremiah gasped; he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. The surface was relatively calm and flat. The sky was the clearest blue and the sun was shining brightly. There was no land in sight, just the tips of the huge icebergs, moving majestically with the current. The blue white of the ice glowed like the white hot embers in the centre of the fire. From their angle the sea looked black; it made the icebergs look like teeth; hard sharp teeth in liquid gums.

“Orca!” The cry went up from the rear of the guard. The merman next to Marcus had seen a fin.

Immediately the horses descended and formed a defensive ring around the mermen, who themselves formed a ring around Throne and Jeremiah. The mermen couldn’t fight on horseback; they were used to that at least. Jeremiah had the advantage.

“Draw your blades!” commanded Kyle.

“When I signal, Jeremiah, be ready. We will seek out the alpha male and draw him away from the pod. The others can handle the rest; we will deal with the bull.”

Jeremiah’s keener sight sought out the pod but it remained hidden in the shadows and spaces between the icebergs.

“They fear us because they have not had the pleasure of our company before. They do not know how we will respond. If you have courage, Jeremiah, I propose to show them we mean business.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Drop down and out of sight. Then we will bolt to the surface, straight through their midst, scattering them for the others to pick off.”

“Straight down to business then?”

“There is no other way; we could be hours playing hide and seek.”

“I am ready!”

Throne communicated the plan to the other horses and they passed it to the riders. Throne sank down. The dark shapes of the Orca, the mermen, and the horses, contrasted against the bright surface above them.

“We have one chance, Jeremiah. If they scatter before we hit them, we won’t have a chance to surprise them and then we’ll be picking them off one by one, unless they feel brave and launch an assault of their own; they seem reluctant to do that.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“As we pass through them, hold the blade out to the side like a scythe. If you’re lucky you’ll hit the bull male and slit his throat. Once there is blood in the water there will be confusion, and with luck, it will attract the sharks.”

“With luck?” queried Jeremiah.

“We’ll escape in the midst of their feeding frenzy. Did I not promise you excitement?”

“Promise not to let me kill myself in the process, Throne.”

“Get ready. The sun has moved and we have the clearest view.”

Throne dropped another fifty feet and then turned. They accelerated quickly and Jeremiah was hard pressed to keep hold and not slip backwards. He gripped tighter and saw the underbellies of the pod members rushing towards them. His arm and sword had been trailing behind him but now he brought it back and to the side, holding it out from his body at an angle of forty-five degrees. The seconds before impact disappeared in a blink and they were no longer rushing headlong towards the pod but amongst the pod and Jeremiah brought up the blade in a kind of whip action and sliced deep into flesh. He had his eyes tight shut and could not tell what he had cut. As it happened he’d cut off the last third of the big bull’s tail, as easily as if he was chopping tomatoes. Their speed and trajectory took them clean out of the water and Throne exploded through the surface and continued to flap his wings, carrying them higher and higher. He was obviously enjoying it and let out bellow after bellow in exaltation. They reached the zenith of their arc.

“He is not dead yet, Jeremiah. As we dive, aim for the head. Here we go!”

They plummeted like a bird diving for fish. At the crucial moment, Throne drew in his wings and they hit the surface cleanly, like a spear. Hitting the water slowed them down and Jeremiah had the chance to bring his arm back and out. The bull was incapacitated and no match, but his head was huge, too big for the blade to cut it off cleanly. The blade passed through flesh and bone but just as it was about exit the body of the bull, something arrested its progress and Jeremiah was yanked from his seat. Fortunately he did not relinquish his grip on the handle of the blade.

The bull could do him no harm but now he was a sitting duck and not just for the other Orca. The blood in the water was attracting the sharks; the Great Whites; four in number.

Jeremiah did not have a tail to whip from side to side in the hope it that the motion would free the blade. He dare not let go of the handle for fear of losing it and without the blade he was completely unprotected. He had both hands on the stock and pulled with all his new found might but it wouldn’t budge.

An adolescent male realised his dilemma and turned to head straight for him. Jeremiah could not see Throne; there was too much blood in the water. Seconds before the young Orca had his jaws around Jeremiah’s mid-drift it was hit by a grey and white torpedo as one of the sharks flew at it from beneath. The male did not give up without a fight and in its death throes the creature careered into the dying male that Jeremiah was attached to and the alpha’s body twisted and brought Jeremiah to the surface. As the body rolled like a log, he managed to climb atop it and for ten seconds he was stood upon the now dead male, a black raft in a sea of blood, surrounded by hundreds of scintillating white teeth.

Now standing, he could brace himself and pull the blade free. It was buried deep in the skull bone. By pulling and twisting he cracked the bone and freed it. He staggered back two paces and fell onto his behind. Just as he decided to try and stand back up, Throne appeared beside him and he rolled off the Orca onto the back of the horse; not as elegantly as he described it later but he was back with Throne who dived immediately.

“We have to get away. The sharks will do the rest but they are indiscriminate.”

They ploughed straight down two or three hundred feet.

“Are you hurt?” asked Throne.

“No, are you?”

“I lost a shoe but I got my monies worth for it.”

“Is everyone accounted for?”

“Yes. We were lucky to catch them sitting like ducks.”

They slowed and out of the gloom the others appeared, in a loose circle.

“We’ll head for the prison. There we can rest,” ordered Throne, and they moved off quickly.

They descended like snowflakes through the night sky, illuminated by the pulsing light of the beacon. They continued to descend, into the pit, the vast cavern of ice that had been the Leviathan’s prison for centuries. Hundreds of feet they dropped until they neared the base. The door of the cell, a vast grid-like structure as big as the gates of Sven, lay in ruins, the steel lay shattered like glass. Throne brought them to a halt.

“Rest!”

Kyle quickly moved to hand out provisions; a smallish pearl, one to each merman. He came to Jeremiah.

“Are you injured?”

“No, not at all, miraculously!”

“Take some time to rest before we join our hands in healing.”

Jeremiah could only guess at what he meant and through habit no doubt, he found a rock upon which to sit down. He drew his knees to his chest and folded his arms across them upon which he laid his brow, eyes closed.

For the first time in his life he’d killed another living thing, purposefully, premeditatedly. His tears were more out of shock but also the realisation that it wouldn’t be the last time and he shuddered at how many creatures would die before the Leviathan was killed. He felt a hand on his arm and looked up. It was Marcus.

“Come! Join the circle and heal.”

Marcus led him to the others and they formed a circle, holding hands. The horses formed a ring around them; wing tip to wing tip.

Kyle led the prayer.

“Blood spilt; breath spent; spirit gone,

Heal the wounds, heal the rent, heal the rift.

Take the children and put them to bed,

Bring salve to the wounded,

Bring hope to the desperate,

Bring grace to the fallen,

Bring humility to the conquerors.

Jeremiah!”

Jeremiah was confused until Throne spoke to him.

“They do not mean you, Jeremiah; it means ‘let it be so’…your name has powerful connotations in our language.”

The healing was like the bonding of earlier that day; all felt the pain, all felt the suffering. Marcus had pulled a muscle; they all felt the burning for a second and then the feeling was divided amongst them. Everything was shared: the exaltation, the loathing, the blood lust, the pity, the honour and the thanks giving for their deliverance.

They dropped hands and the circle was broken.

“What now Throne?” asked Jeremiah.

“We follow the trail and seek out the Leviathan.”

“How do we follow it?” queried Jeremiah, for there was no ‘trail’ to his eyes, just the murky water.

“You will begin to ‘see’ it, but before that you will begin to ‘feel’ it. The malignancy leaves a taint in the water.”

“Do we have need of speed?”

“At first. It is days since the Leviathan escaped from here. As we get closer we will have need of something else…”

“What?” Jeremiah interrupted.

“Courage. Nothing so evil will you have seen ever before in your life.”

They left, gathering speed. All relished it, for the water washed the last traces of blood from their hair. It wasn’t long before Jeremiah detected something, a taint; something foul. It was as if they followed an oil slick; a slick of hate, bent on destruction. Soon after, they encountered something and Throne slowed to a stop.

“Close your eyes, Jeremiah; you do not want to see this.”

He sensed that all the mermen had closed their eyes and all the other horses too. Only Throne kept his eyes open.

“If something touches you, Jeremiah, do not panic. It is the flotsam and the jetsam. Do not open your eyes until I command it.”

They proceeded slowly and all the while Throne sang out a kind of lamentation in his flute like neigh; it helped to keep them calm. Periodically, something would touch Jeremiah; something would brush against his cheek or knock against his shoulder. It took all his self-control not to open his eyes when the sensation came upon him. It was ten minutes before Throne allowed them to open their eyes and a stiff gallop for another ten before he spoke.

“It is how the Leviathan destroys, Jeremiah.” In truth he spoke to everyone because none were acquainted with the beast, only through legend and myth. “It eats everything and then, in the vast cavern of its gut, it breaks everything down, sucking out the life forces, but in the process, defiling it, corrupting it and at the end it defecates what remains. What we passed through were the ‘remains’ of something that it ate. I would say large vessel, judging by the debris.”

“A vessel…you mean a man-“

“Yes, Jeremiah. The Leviathan spares no one or anything and once it tastes the diesel and the oil, it will become crazed on it like an addict.”

Jeremiah was frightened, not only by the description, not only by the thought of what he had passed through but by the ugliness of the words. They sounded harsh and all too human.

“This conflict will touch my world?”

“Your world is our world and our world is yours, Jeremiah; you just forgot it. Poseidon’s destruction of the village will be nothing compared to what the Leviathan will do if it remains unchecked.”

“Will men not see it?”

“They may see the tidal wave or hear the hurricane approach. Doubtful they will see the beast and if they do, doubtful more that they survive to tell the tale.”

“We must stop it!” Jeremiah urged and he sensed he was panicking and could not stop shaking.

“Jeremiah! JEREMIAH!”

It was too late. He slumped and fell from his seat.

Chapter Four – Flight back to Atlantis

For the longest time he felt heavy and sank like a stone. The pressure built and squeezed his lungs and he fought to breathe. Then he remembered that he didn’t breathe and he felt light and floated back.

“Jeremiah…”

The word sounded strange and the voice nothing like he’d ever heard before. He opened his eyes and saw a face looking down on him; the angelic face of a boy, perhaps ten years old. The boy moved and held out his hand. Jeremiah grasped it and the boy pulled him. They swam for a time, through a reef and then into a dark cavern that was lit by a pool and in the pool were stars.

“Take one,” commanded the boy.

Jeremiah put his hand into the water and picked out a star. He held it in the palm of his hand, reaching out to show the boy.

“My gift…”

The boy disappeared leaving Jeremiah alone in the cave with the star in his hand. He drew his hand closer to his face to examine the star more closely. The light was dazzling and blinded him so he had to close his eyes. He woke to see Marcus looking down on him.

“Jeremiah…”

He heard the word, his name, but couldn’t connect it straightaway.

“You live. It was touch and go there for a second or two…”

“What…?”

“Be quiet and gather your senses. Throne says it was the shock. Your heart stopped and only the healing circle brought you back. We all saw the boy and we all have the gift of his protection.”

Jeremiah collected himself and gathered his limbs to right himself from where he lay on the seabed. The others weren’t near and he was grateful that he didn’t have to suffer their gazes.

“How long was I gone?”

“Three days…”

“THREE…”

“Shush…it matters not. You are back and you have brought us a great gift.”

“Please explain…is it the star I took from the pool?”

“Yes. That light will protect us as we get close to the Leviathan. The closer we get, the more profound the effects of the evil. Now we have protection, like armour.”

“It was Jeremiah…”

“Yes, it was he, the boy, who saved the merman.”

Marcus reached out with a hand and helped Jeremiah to right himself. He did not let go immediately. Once on his feet, Jeremiah looked at Marcus, sensing more than brotherly concern in the man’s eyes.

“Marcus…”

The merman did not speak. He leaned forward and placed his lips on Jeremiah’s. As hungry as leopard seals, they gorged on their tongues, floating higher in the water, swaying like kelp on the tide.

Jeremiah was painfully aroused but felt insecure. This was neither the time nor the place. Marcus too, was aroused, and the cavity, within with his manhood receded, was opening like a clam shell.

“No, Marcus…not here. I want to, but when we are back.”

“Please let me be the one to bond with you on Full Moon.”

“It shall be you.”

“Then I am happy; happier than for many years.”

Jeremiah left him hanging in the water and swam off until he was out of sight of the group. There were so many questions forming in his mind but only one needed to be asked and answered, “What of Sven?”

It was an hour before Jeremiah came back and mounted Throne.

“Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

They left in formation and swam above the trail so that they did not have to perpetually suffer the taint that coated their throats and made them gag. It became easier to see, like a slick, and regularly they saw the clouds of debris that signified yet another attack. They were too high above the trail to make out clearly what the clouds comprised and Jeremiah was grateful for that.

The terrain changed. No longer the smooth undulating desert they had flown over for league after league since leaving the prison. Now the desert gave way to mountain ranges and deep rents. In some, fire burned hot and Jeremiah was afraid. Few creatures they saw, and those they did were fleeing north or dead.

“How shall we stop this?” Jeremiah asked Throne.

“It is for the gods and the generals to decide but, the beast will not be killed with any weapon we possess. It will take something more…”

“What?”

“Courage and sacrifice.”

“How close are we?”

“A day and a night. Soon we will see which of the creatures of the deep have answered its call.”

“The Orca…”

“The Orca, the rays, the sea snakes, the stinging fish, the sharped tooth eels…”

“Why do these creatures rally to its side?”

“They are the creatures that Poseidon ejected from the garden when he created his paradise; vanity on his part.”

Without warning, a slither of snakes appeared out of the gloom, and like a hundred arrows aimed at their ranks, sped towards them.

The snakes were quick but slower than the blades. There were many of them and each merman was hard pressed to keep the tide back and ensure none broke through their ranks and formed rings around them; the precursor to the strike to kill. The venom in one bite would be enough to kill them all and tens more besides.

Jeremiah slashed left and right, slicing heads from bodies, watching the parts separate and sink like multi-coloured ribbons on the breeze. One, different to the others, larger with fangs that were visible, feigned death and Jeremiah believed he’d caught it on the last stroke, but he hadn’t. The snake lunged and clamped its jaws around his forearm, the armour sparing him from instant death. Jeremiah could feel the fang points through the armour and was sure it would give and splinter after a few more seconds.

Marcus was at his side and cut the body off but the head held fast, and if anything, the jaws clamped tighter.

“Hold still, Jeremiah,” he ordered.

Marcus gripped the lower edge of the two halves of the protective gauntlet and pulled it off Jeremiah’s arm. It had been tightly bound to his arm and the snake’s jaws gripped it like a vice. By agonising degrees the gauntlet slipped down and off his arm. Once free, the jaws of the snake snapped shut and crushed the shell plates. The indentations of the fang points were clearly visible on the upper and lower forearm, but the skin was not broken.

“Thank you!”

“Kyle wishes to retreat. We did not come to engage the enemy, merely scout. That was too close for comfort.”

Throne deferred to Kyle’s decision and they moved back a few leagues to assess what they should do.

“The snakes were designed to scare us but the enemy is not far and we know enough,” Kyle suggested, and the tone was open and invited anyone to comment.

“Atlantis, Lord Protector, said the battle would be waged on the Plain of Ur…are we near there?” asked Jeremiah, no strategist but keen to contribute.

“Not far. I would agree with our Lord Protector, and as it stands, we know enough. The Leviathan is abroad and reeking destruction. Its allies already seek to engage in open warfare. This suggests confidence and readiness,” offered Forn.

“Then we need to get back and report; hasten the mustering and prepare all defences,” counselled Kyle, again seeking ratification.

“Agreed!”

“Give everyone the last of the rations, Kyle,” urged Throne. “We have need of the utmost speed. I counsel no rest until we see the gates of Sven.”

It was as if the word was a beacon, and a presence was felt. Jeremiah described it as a search light, a sweeping search light, but dark light, a cold black light.

“The Leviathan’s eye,” announced Throne, “we are not the only ones that scout. Hand out the rations, Kyle, and we must be away.”

Kyle dished out the supplies, two pretty meagre pearls, no bigger than the tip of Jeremiah’s small finger. He, at least, still had some of the power left from the black pearl. The two seed pearls hit his stomach and he felt the now familiar surge.

If they had galloped before it was like a trot compared to the speed that Throne insisted upon now. For a while the black light did not recede and Throne was convinced that the Leviathan pursued them; though not with any serious intent beyond wasting their scant reserves. Throne knew the Leviathan would not launch an out and out assault. It didn’t need to; the Gods would bring the fight. In any event, the Leviathan was in no hurry. The waters were full of pollution, upon which it happily feasted, gaining strength.

Their speed never diminished and they overtook many creatures on their way to the rift, seeking protection. They kept formation, ever alert to the possibility of surprise attack by Orca or barracuda. News of the deaths of the Orca at the prison would have been broadcast, especially the death of the alpha male and who the death dealer had been. Jeremiah could not stay out of the fray now, even if he wanted to.

Throne shared the signal of the beacon with Jeremiah so that he might learn how to navigate by them himself. It meant they were not that far from the rift and home.

“Six days we were gone, Jeremiah, four more to Full Moon…”

Throne purposefully left the comment treading water.

“I have asked Marcus to be the one.”

“What of Sven?”

“I do not know anymore. When we get back, I hope above all hope, he is fully recovered. Beyond that, I do not harbour any hopes with him. If his father has promoted him into the guard, and placed the Kindred Blade in his hand, then he’ll have enough to do.”

“It could be judged that you have abandoned him, after seeing how difficult it would be to join with him.”

“He has made no declaration; Marcus has…”

“That makes you sound fickle.”

“I do not know my mind.”

“That is more honest and a better policy, Jeremiah.”

Throne said nothing more and Jeremiah was astounded that this horse demi-god should worry about such things or counsel him one way or another. The horse must have picked up on stray thoughts, because Throne added, as they drew close to the rift, “Jeremiah, we are bound until death; your happiness and my happiness are intertwined. If I counsel you, it is to avoid losing the best rider in the three Oceans. More than that, I would not lose a friend.”

The salt water washed the tears away before anyone was the wiser.

Their arrival was heralded and a larger crowd than saw them off was there to see their return. Atlantis was waiting, to hear the news first hand without a second’s delay. Kyle and Forn were in conference with him even before the horses were taken to the stables. Jeremiah and others took the horses and then headed to the Mess Hall. Only now that the adrenalin had dissipated did Jeremiah feel the full force of his exhaustion; the rest looked similarly drained. He shared a table with Marcus and another of the mermen, Elijah.

“Where are you staying, Jeremiah?” asked the younger merman.

“I have not given that any thought. Is there a place for visitors to stay?”

“Of course! But you are not a visitor now. Something more appropriate needs to be found. Kyle will allocate you a room. Take it; you will have need of the sanctuary, we all do at times, and it is a personal space that is respected.”

“For now, I wish to sleep; above all things, sleep.”

They all shared a chuckle at that. Kyle joined them.

“Lord Protector is most pleased and we are invited to the palace tomorrow,” he announced.

“What of the mustering?” asked Marcus.

“Middle Waters are expected here two days after Full Moon; the South, two weeks later…”

“So long?” queried Jeremiah.

“It is a very long way, Jeremiah; not all have steeds as swift as ours!”

Jeremiah smiled.

“Jeremiah needs a room, Kyle.”

Kyle looked fleetingly at Jeremiah, obviously unsure of how things stood between him and Marcus.

“We all have need of the sanctuary at times, Kyle,” added Marcus, and it answered just as many questions as it posed.

“I have a room for you Jeremiah; it is nothing special.”

“I have no need of anything more special than anyone else, Kyle…just a place to sleep and find a quiet moment whilst we have that luxury.”

“I’ll take you to it. Did you want to stop at the Sick Bay?”

“Is he not recovered?”

“Margaret would not give me a straight answer.”

“Then we will go and see him and then you can show me the room.”

They left and Marcus caught his eye. It was a look that begged an answer. Jeremiah just nodded slightly.

“We must find you better armour,” Kyle said, as they crossed the rift and Jeremiah knew it to be his way of keeping the conversation open.

“Perhaps tomorrow…”

“Lord Protector is most impressed…”

“Things have happened far more quickly than I expected…”

“Do you regret your decisions?”

And Jeremiah didn’t know which he was referring to, so answered, “No. Not that I understand them fully. When I left my home with Sven, it was to ask Poseidon a question and beyond that I had no idea what would happen. But fighting the Leviathan and protecting our worlds can’t be wrong.”

“It isn’t.”

They reached the Sick Bay and found Margaret in the outer room.

“Margaret! I am pleased to see you.”

“Greetings, Jeremiah. And from the look of you both, you have need of some healing…drink this,” she ordered, as she handed over a phial.

“What is it?” asked Jeremiah.

“Black pearls dissolved in the oil of the kelp flower; drink it!”

Kyle needed no encouragement and seeing the glow appear in his cheeks, Jeremiah quickly complied with the order.

“Wow!”

“Tell no one; everyone else thinks we’ve run out,” she whispered with a wink. “He’s resting after a day of therapy,” she added, as she headed out.

“Go and see him, Jeremiah. All need to be certain of where they stand, especially as danger and maybe death approaches. If you have made a choice, then tell him so.”

“Where shall I find you afterwards?”

“In the armoury.”

Kyle left and Jeremiah made his way slowly into the ward where Sven was still the only patient. He was sleeping. Jeremiah approached his bed and sat on the floor, cross-legged, like before. He recounted the details of the escapade, skimming over the Brotherhood ceremony.

“Will you conquer us all in the end?” And Sven opened his eyes.

“Sven!”

His joy was short-lived.

“First Throne, then the Brotherhood. My father orders me to protect you to my dying breath and you carry the blade of Poseidon and wear the armour of Sven. Is there any room left in your covetous heart for one such as me?”

Jeremiah was dumbfounded.

“Full Moon approaches; who has begged for the honour to bond with you?”

Jeremiah got up and left without uttering a word until he was at the doorway.

“I am pleased you are recovered Sven.”

At which, he darted out as quickly as possible, if only to avoid hearing the wailing and gnashing of teeth. He headed for the armoury and found Kyle.

“How was he?”

“Getting back to his normal self,” Jeremiah reported.

“I have found stronger armour; take this and this and these.”

Kyle handed him the pieces, fashioned from the shell of a turtle, highly polished and inlaid with silver.

“This is beautiful!” Jeremiah exclaimed.

“It belonged to Tria’s first born son; wear it tomorrow when we go to the palace. Come; let me show you your quarters.”

They left and headed to a complex of buildings behind the armoury and not far from the stables. Kyle navigated them to the farthest block from the main thoroughfare.

“Enjoy the sanctuary, Jeremiah. No one can enter your space without your permission. It is yours. At reveille tomorrow, meet at the stables. Lord Protector wishes to inspect his new cavalry guard and you will be at the head of it on Throne…”

“Jesus, Kyle!”

“Life as a merhuman can be very tough. This way you will have less to worry about: a career, status, respect, brothers, a home…”

“You talk about these things as if the future is certain, Kyle…”

“I am more sure of it now…goodnight.”

Jeremiah was overwhelmed. The things that Kyle had mentioned: a home, brothers, status and respect, were, if he was honest, the things he had looked for in much of his life. Kyle had not mentioned one thing, deliberately he felt, and Jeremiah couldn’t help himself but dwell on that.

“Is it to your liking?”

And Jeremiah recognised the voice. He turned, smiling.

“It lacks only one thing…”

Chapter Five – A night and a day

Jeremiah reached out his hand and Marcus placed his in it.

“Are you sure?”

“I cannot be sure of anything, Marcus. In every second that passes I experience things that I never dreamed of, good or bad. I lose myself; my old self. I need something real, that I understand…”

“I am flesh and blood. I am real…”

“You have declared your feelings for me and I want you to bond with me. I will be honest and respect your honesty, beyond that I will not make promises that I cannot keep. We are Brothers in the guard; this may be a…distraction that neither of us can afford…”

“I understand this…and I agree. But, what is fighting for, if not to protect the ones you love and the things you cherish?”

“Do you love me?”

“It is a complicated word. I cannot say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but I know that, as we stand here, I feel something beyond the simple love of brotherhood.”

“I will not declare for you yet, Marcus. Not until the fighting is over. But I want you. That sounds selfish.”

“It is honest and I prefer honesty. That will guide the rest. If you want me and invite me to stay tonight and we bond, it is enough for now.”

“Please stay.”

They entered the chamber. It was a simple room with a door and window. The door and the window were open but they could be closed and the shutters were made from the same material as everything else; the hardened, encrusted kelp. The whole room glowed with the same light as all the buildings in the rift. There was a bed cot but it was unfurnished and the kelp beds were too far to go foraging. There was a table like the ones in the Mess Hall; a round slab supported on a thin column that rose to the height of Jeremiah’s head. Several cupboards occupied one wall and that was pretty much it except for a mirror in an alcove.

Jeremiah closed the door and the window. He shrugged off the armour and placed it on the table with the blade and the horn. Marcus shrugged off his armour too and the belt that held his blade and a pouch.

“What is in the pouch?” Jeremiah asked.

Marcus smiled as he tipped the contents out on to the table. There were crystals, strange coloured stones and an amulet made from a shell within which there was a pearl.

“Emergency rations!” jested Marcus.

There was a comb and a ring of plain, bright gold.

“The comb belonged to my mother and the ring to my father.”

“Are they dead?” asked Jeremiah, remembering that merfolk lived to an average age of three hundred years.

“Yes. Northern Realm dwellers live less long than their middle and southern kin. I am one hundred and fifty years old and I was born to older parents than most of the merfolk here. The concept of parents is an odd one in the merKingdom. My father is, of course, Atlantis, but my mother took a mate with whom she lived out her life and he cared for us. In the Middle Waters, I know that happens less. A merman or maid will have a close relationship with their mother but the mate of their mother with not usually be that close to them. Then Poseidon probably exerts a stronger influence and there are fewer mermen than maids in the Middle Waters. I don’t know how it is in the Southern Reaches.”

“What was your father like?”

“A fine warrior. He taught me the use of the blade and that earned me recognition and entry to the guard.”

“Did they know that you were…?”

And Jeremiah didn’t even know if the word applied or even existed in the merKingdom.

“A Brother? Yes. It matters less here, Jeremiah. Atlantis fathers all the children.”

“Oh! Yes…then…”

“He creates them! He created me…”

This revelation was astounding to Jeremiah; he alternated between frowns and smiles in quick succession.

“It is not taboo to discuss it nor is it seen as wrong or against god. Here, we truly are, all gods’ children,” added Marcus, enjoying the disclosure and the reaction for it seemed to lift a huge weight from Jeremiah’s brow and the smile won over the frown and remained.

Marcus moved closer, sensing Jeremiah needed the strength of a pair of arms.

“Hold me for a moment.”

“For as long as…”

The rest was lost in the foraging; their tongues like the fish feeding between the fronds of the coral. For all their sterner features and hardier temperaments, these Northern mermen had a passion and a tenderness that Jeremiah had not experienced in any man before. Perhaps because of the harshness of the life it was their chosen antidote. Marcus had a different view.

“We are of the loins of Atlantis. He is passionate and tender in his love of this place and of us, his children. He is a different man to Poseidon; more human, less god. In any event, passion warms the blood…”

They were suspended in the water, facing each other, holding each other loosely around the waist. Jeremiah felt the bud of his arousal start to open and Marcus sensed it. Then a shadow of concern briefly passed over Jeremiah’s face.

“What is wrong, Jeremiah?”

“Sven bonded with me to change me…it was…”

“Awkward? Painful?”

“Yes! But, it wasn’t sex or love; it was just the change I wanted and we didn’t…so I don’t know how…”

“Jeremiah, relax! I am like all men, like all my brothers. I enjoy the touch of your fingers on my skin; your lips grazing over mine. I want your hand wrapped around my organ.”

“Is it truly the same for you as it is for me?”

“Of course…mine is just…a little bigger…”

“But…how…where…?”

Marcus was smiling richly and feeling some of the same awkwardness that Jeremiah was patently failing to explain in words.

“Jeremiah…” and Marcus framed Jeremiah’s face with his hands, “…tell me what you want to know.”

“Your body is different…”

“Ah, I think I understand. Let me show you.”

Marcus drew back a little. “My manhood retracts into a special pouch which closes tightly.” Marcus used a finger to trace a line where the opening was located and Jeremiah could now see a slight ridge where the two edges met. It extended from just beneath the line between the upper body and the tail to a point half way between that divider and where Marcus’ knees would have been had he had legs.

“Touch it,” encouraged Marcus.

Jeremiah extended his hand and placed his fingertips on the ridge.

“Is it sensitive?”

“A little...” and Marcus let out a stifled groan. The edges of the opening began to part. As the rent got bigger, Jeremiah could see the organ beneath. He ran his fingers along the edge of the rent; it was smooth and hard. Just inside, the tissue became soft and the heat was intense. It was having the obvious effect on Marcus and the organ began to move as it became engorged. It emerged by degrees, pushing the sides of the rent apart and majestically it rose until it had completely evacuated the pouch and once it was perpendicular to Marcus’ body it stopped growing.

He was breathing deeply and his eyes were closed. Jeremiah could not help himself but touch the organ. The skin was very smooth and stretched taut. The organ itself was incredibly hard. There was no foreskin. The head of the organ was not bulbous, just a continuation of the shaft, ending in a blunt tip in which there was a slit.

“Do you have testicles?” Jeremiah asked, and at this point fascination had overtaken his awkward reticence.

“Reach inside the pouch under the shaft…” murmured Marcus, grazing his teeth over his bottom lip.

Jeremiah reached in. The cavity was soft and hot, like a mouth. He groped with his fingers and found two hard lumps, near the top, under the base of the shaft, one either side.

“Those are my testicles,” moaned Marcus, and Jeremiah gathered this was a pretty standard merman foreplay technique.

It had the obvious effect on his own organ which was now rigid and painful. Marcus opened his eyes and smiled. He reached down to grasp Jeremiah’s shaft and gripped it firmly.

“You have a fine piece…”

But the difference in size was readily apparent and almost ludicrous. The self-awareness must have played out on Jeremiah’s face.

“It will satisfy me, more than satisfy me. My passage is tight and probably no deeper than yours…”

Jeremiah was instantly reminded of the bonding with Sven and the mind numbing pain that had accompanied it.

“When Sven coupled with me, it was very painful.”

“It sounds like there had been no time to sufficiently prepare for the…’procedure’. I would lubricate it with kelp oil if we had some and lubricate inside you. It is how we do it.”

“Then perhaps we should wait for the Full Moon?”

“Perhaps, but, I am aroused nearly beyond my control…”

“Do you want me to suck it?”

“Yes…but be warned, the seed is ejected with force.”

And Jeremiah recalled the three hammer blows he had felt in his gut when Sven had ejaculated his seed into his body.

Marcus flicked his tail and brought his organ up to the level of Jeremiah’s mouth. With both hands around the shaft, near the top, Jeremiah steadied it and himself. At first he just kissed the blunt tip and ran his tongue over the slit.

“Push your tongue in…it’s one of our…things!” managed Marcus, ecstatically high on the sensation.

Jeremiah complied and found the opening was willing, almost hungry for his tongue and was practically sucking on it. Energy throbbed in the shaft.

“Are you close?” Jeremiah asked, breaking off.

“It would not take much to bring me to release.”

Without any further questions or prompting, Jeremiah took the end of the shaft into his mouth. The fat member filled the space and stretched his jaw almost to the point of pain. There was hardly space for his tongue to move but the small movements seemed to be enough. In any event, concentrating on sucking and breathing was about as much as Jeremiah could handle. The throbbing intensified and Jeremiah was pretty sure that Marcus was close to releasing. He wanted the seed but was convinced he’d drown in it. Whilst he was thinking about that, the throbbing stopped momentarily and then he felt three pulses, in quick succession.

Jeremiah had eaten oysters and remembered the way the flesh of the oyster, loosened from the shell, slid down his throat without any real need to swallow. The sensation was similar but the power of the ejection was phenomenal. The seed shot down his throat and hit his stomach and detonated like three depth charges. At once he was infused with feelings of immense joy, ecstasy, and love.

He felt Marcus’ hands on his shoulders and looked up. Marcus was looking down. His face, and in fact his entire body, was covered in a swirling iridescence of colour and light. Marcus slipped his hands under Jeremiah’s arms and drew him up to kiss him. Marcus’ light sheathed them both and for a second, Jeremiah was lost in the bliss-cloud.

“Wow!”

Marcus grinned and looked a little coy.

“I want you too,” he whispered, and he placed his hands on Jeremiah’s waist and lifted him up until Jeremiah’s groin was level with his mouth and he feasted on the organ like a man starved. It wasn’t long before Jeremiah felt his own surge and he thrust forward instinctively and in a moment of complete abandon, ejaculated his own seed into the ravenous throat. Marcus pulled him closer and sucked every last pearl out. The light faded and they sank to the sandy floor.

Neither spoke for a good long while. Marcus broke the silence.

“Are you happy, Jeremiah?”

“I cannot describe my feelings. I did not imagine it would be like this.”

“It is but a part of the ritual we call making love. There are oceans of feelings we have not yet begun to explore.”

Marcus organ began to retract and, unashamedly, Jeremiah watched with rapt attention as the thick shaft slowly receded back into the pouch and the edges of the pouch knitted together, leaving just the faint ridge visible to the naked eye.

“On Full Moon, we will prepare as mermen do for the coupling,” reassured Marcus.

“I want to satisfy your needs too.”

“You will. You satisfy so many of them already. Companionship, Jeremiah, it is what the merman craves. To know he is loved and loves in return. Without that, we are weak and vulnerable.”

Jeremiah’s thoughts immediately turned to Sven and it was as if Marcus could see into his head.

“Did you see Sven?”

“Yes…”

“How is he?”

“Recovering…”

“But?”

“He said some things which…”

“The Brotherhood?”

“Nothing in any great detail. He thinks I am trying to ‘ingratiate’ myself. The honours that the mermen and Throne have bestowed upon me…”

“Sit uncomfortably on his vain and immature shoulders…”

Jeremiah didn’t want to admit to that but it was obvious from his silence that it was the truth.

“Perhaps if you or Kyle speaks to him and explains…”

“He is so unlike his father. Well, he has the same hot temper at times, but the judgement is lacking and keenly felt by all…”

And Jeremiah knew he alluded to Sven’s betrothal.

“I will try to talk to him again once he has calmed down.”

They settled themselves. In the absence of the kelp to make a bed, Jeremiah placed himself in Marcus’ arms and stretched out along the powerful tail. It was like all other merpeople’s tails in that it was iridescent green; a kind of greenish-blue. Marcus’ skin was the same pearly white; cool and yet the energy flowed within it. Jeremiah found himself aimlessly stroking the hard contours of Marcus’ upper body.

“When Poseidon comes, I will ask him to change me.”

“If you do not wish to return to your home, then it is the right decision. But, won’t you miss it and your friends?” questioned Marcus.

“Yes, I will. But my life was sadly lacking and I never really knew why…until now.”

“Life can be very harsh here.”

“I would like to go to the Southern Reaches too.”

“We will go together,” Marcus announced, with a degree more certainty than Jeremiah felt.

They drifted off and both experienced a contentment that neither had felt for a very long time.

The reveille dragged out them out of their slumber and, save for a swift embrace and a kiss, they donned their armour and weapons and headed out to meet the rest of the guard at the stables. All saw them arrive together, but none blinked an eye. Kyle and Forn issued rations and straightened armour plates and tightened buckles. The horses made their way out of the stables and the guard, with Jeremiah upon Throne, led them up the rift to the palace.

Atlantis, Lord Protector, was waiting on the plateau. He too was dressed in armour, of gold plate and judging by the dents and the marks, it wasn’t just ceremonial. The guard dismounted and bowed their heads.

“At ease!” ordered Kyle and they all looked up.

“Kyle and Forn have made their report and much else is known to me. The Middle Water army arrives in four days and the Southern Reaches, in twelve. Once the Middle Water army and Poseidon reach us, we will begin to move to the Plain.”

Atlantis spoke confidently and candidly.

“The guard will lead us out. Our strategy is very simple. The armies of the three kings and such creatures that can usefully fight will draw the Demon’s allies away to leave the beast undefended; though it barely needs them. The guard will lead the final assault with the three kings and deliver the fatal blow.”

Jeremiah was totally at a loss as to how or what they were meant to deliver; some kind of devilry of their own? Jeremiah was itching to ask the question but discretion held his tongue. But Atlantis must have seen the question on everyone’s lips.

“The strategy is simple, but, it requires a sacrifice, and I cannot order any merman or maid to make such a sacrifice. I ask for a volunteer.”

“I volunteer, Lord Protector,” announced Jeremiah. He didn’t know where the words had come from and suspected Throne.

Atlantis eyed him, at first carefully, and then more openly.

“I said a sacrifice, Jeremiah. You understand the meaning of the word?”

“Yes, Lord Protector, it means the same where I come from and I am ready to make it; with my brothers behind me.”

The words ignited a flame in their chests.

“Throne?” queried Atlantis.

“I am willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Then the guard will assemble once Poseidon is here and the plan will be agreed. None shall broadcast what they have heard here today. The guard is given leave until the appointed time. Jeremiah, I seek your counsel on some matters.”

Kyle called the guard to attention and led the rest away, leaving Throne and Jeremiah on the plateau with the king.

“Come…”

And they followed him in to the palace. Prow was waiting.

“Prow!” shouted Jeremiah, immediately aware that he was probably breaking all protocols.

“Ah…Jeremiah!” the old grey whale boomed and the water vibrated as if it were boiling.

Atlantis called them altogether and laid out his plan. They had been huddled together for barely five minutes when Kyle returned.

“Lord Protector,” he stated, to announce himself.

“What is it Kyle?”

“Sire, your son has…left the rift.”

Jeremiah had seen the devastation caused by Poseidon’s wrath and braced himself for the explosion. It didn’t come.

“Thank you Kyle,” Atlantis replied, and returned to the tactics table. After half an hour, they broke off, in agreement, and Atlantis seemed to slump a fraction.

“Perhaps he went to meet Poseidon, Sire,” ventured Jeremiah.

“Perhaps he did. You know my son, Jeremiah; his hot temper is fuelled by any slight he feels. If only he knew what the future could have in store for him.”

Jeremiah was unsure if he should recount the details of their meeting the evening before; he judged that it would make no difference now.

“He is unhappy, that is clear,” was all Jeremiah would allow himself to say, without betraying a good deal more.

“Are we agreed, comrades? Poseidon and Briscoe will agree to this, of that I am sure. It is the most daring plot, but I see no other way.”

“I am, Sire,” replied Jeremiah.

“Agreed,” replied both Throne and Prow, and the symphony of their voices echoed throughout the palace.

“I will assign someone else to protect you, Jeremiah.”

“I have my brothers, Sire.”

“There should be one who should watch your back more closely than the rest.”

“There is one.”

Throne, Prow and Jeremiah left the palace and no one could recall a stranger, or more portentous, triumvirate than the three as they swam back down the rift; the merhuman, the sea horse and the grey whale. Prow left them to feed and Jeremiah escorted Throne back to the stables.

“Hot-headed youth!”

“He feels the slight and I can do nothing now to convince him otherwise.”

“Fool of a boy; but, there is always hope. Jeremiah, I know you volunteered but we ride to our certain death…”

“Nothing is certain, Throne. If we do, we shall have saved the Seas.”

“Immortalised but not immortal…”

“There is always the next life, Throne.”

He left the horse and went to find Marcus.

“Marcus!” He called out at the merman’s house, and waited to be invited in.

“Come in, Jeremiah.”

The room was much like his own but decorated. Tools, weapons and trophies adorned the walls.

“I must apologise,” Jeremiah ventured, sensing that Marcus was keeping a little distance.

“For what?”

“For volunteering.”

“Do not apologise for that. What is a warrior that does not fight?”

“What of the man who is left behind?”

“I will ride with you.”

“I cannot ask you to do that…but, I would be honoured if you did.”

“The honour will be mine.”

“We have leave until Poseidon arrives!”

“Yes!” And Marcus’ eyes were glinting.

He closed the space between them and enveloped Jeremiah in his powerful arms.

“I was afraid that you would reject me now,” admitted Jeremiah.

“How could I? You honour the Brotherhood and we are brothers before we are anything else.”

“We will leave soon after Poseidon arrives; there isn’t much time…”

“We have plenty; don’t worry. What do you want to do?”

“Get out of the rift and somewhere quiet.”

“Alone?”

“No. Together.”

“We must advise Kyle that we take leave and I’ll requisition some supplies.”

“Would that include some kelp oil?” Jeremiah teased.

“Already in the bag!” And Marcus patted the pouch on his belt and smiled more broadly than Jeremiah had ever seen any merman smile.

They left, after telling Kyle, and gathered a few supplies before heading off. A few that saw them leave had wistful looks on their faces, but more just smiled and sought out their own mates, for all knew the score.

Chapter Six – The Awakening

They swam out of the rift and further north. After a league or two they headed east. Marcus guided them to a shelf, a vast, ancient fault in the rocks. The cliff above the shelf was dotted with caves and he headed to one that was protected by a curtain of kelp.

The cave was empty and dark. From the back, Marcus retrieved a lamp from inside a woven kelp basket that had a tight fitting lid. The lamp was like the buildings of the rift, covered with the hard, crusty, dead bodies of the light emitting bacteria. The cave took on a warm glow.

“Peace at last!”

“Is this your cave?”

“I use it from time to time, to find peace.”

“Marcus, if you prefer not to get more attached, I will understand.”

“No. The attachment is good for me, and more can only do me better. The same applies.”

“I do not want to be alone.”

Marcus began to unbuckle straps and ease off the armour plates. He piled them on the floor and laid his tools and weapons on top of them. He removed the belt and placed it carefully with the rest. Jeremiah laid the provisions bag down and similarly divested himself of the armour and the weapons.

They faced each other, naked and expectant.

Their embrace lasted for more than a few minutes and it seemed to them both that they gradually relaxed; though neither admitted to being tense. The embrace ended with a tender kiss that became more ardent and when it did, they pulled apart.

“I am becoming aroused,” Marcus admitted, beguilingly, guiding Jeremiah’s hand down, to touch him there, as the edges of the cavity were parting. The thick, smooth, hard organ began to emerge and Jeremiah was shamelessly fascinated by the spectacle and grinned like an adolescent.

“Put your hand inside,” Marcus demanded, and his skin was already beginning to glow with his arousal.

Jeremiah slipped his hand in the pouch, underneath the piece that was now free and rising. Rather than just groping, Jeremiah thrust his hand in and out a little. It elicited growls and Marcus’ body tensed. Jeremiah sank to his knees and brought his lips up to the gaping mouth of the rent. He licked around the base of the shaft and dived in with his tongue. Licking the shaft sent Marcus into ecstasy and his body, especially his tail, quivered. When Jeremiah looked up, Marcus was glowing like the Pearl Moon and Jeremiah stopped, wishing to prolong the moment forever.

“Prepare me, Marcus…”

The merman gathered some of his senses and lifted Jeremiah up to kiss his lips with such tenderness that Jeremiah was brought to tears.

“I will oil the way. I will not be able to control the urge once I am buried deep inside you.”

“I know what to expect…”

Marcus retrieved the oil that was in a strange looking flask. It was stoppered with a glass ball.

“It prevents the oil from escaping too quickly, though it is thick and viscous.”

The cave was devoid of any furniture so Jeremiah got onto his hands and knees and invited Marcus to oil the passageway. Even the presence of just two of his fingers had Jeremiah squirming like a worm on a hook. Marcus then oiled his piece by rubbing the glass ball over the surface, leaving it slick with the pale green oil.

Quickly, before the salt in the water started to dissolve the oil, he clasped Jeremiah’s hips and lifted him slightly, drawing him up and closer. The blunt end made contact and Jeremiah attempted to relax completely. Marcus pushed and the oil allowed the wrist thick head to penetrate easily. He stopped to allow Jeremiah to position himself better. Jeremiah pushed his legs back and angled his buttocks higher. Marcus pulled slightly and pushed a little more. The shaft sank three or four inches further.

Jeremiah’s muscles battled but lost. When Sven had bonded with him, it had been paralysingly painful. Then, he’d gritted his teeth; now, he welcomed Marcus and the shaft disappeared deeper and deeper until it could burrow no further. There was no excruciating pain; there was an awakening and Jeremiah saw himself with a core of fire, iridescent flames licked his vital organs.

Where the flame touched, an ember was left behind to spark and flicker; never dying to a smouldering coal or ash. His blood flowed as molten lava, pure and clean, burning away traces of doubt and lingering pain, longing and suffering silence. It left strength and vitality.

And all the while he felt connected to Marcus and life force was shared between them; the force of brothers and lovers. He felt a surge and his heart, lungs and brain opened to receive the seeds of this new life and he welcomed them and embraced them and captured the hot, swirling masses that looked like white suns and took them deep into those organs and let himself be changed.

From beyond the edge of his Universe did he travel back and found himself in a dimly lit cave with the centre of that Universe cradling him in strong arms, gently stroking his cheek.

“Welcome home!”

Chapter Seven – What has happened to me?

Jeremiah looked up and saw the now familiar face of Marcus and smiled richly. He got a kiss on his lips in return.

“What has happened to me?”

“I think you are transformed,” announced Marcus.

“But I thought only Poseidon could do that; he alone.”

“Look at your body, Jeremiah, and tell me what you see.”

Jeremiah first looked at his arms. The skin was different and glowed faintly, like Marcus’ when he became aroused. He looked down at his chest and stomach, and then his legs, and saw the same faint glow.

“I am like you, when you become aroused.”

“And that is not all. You have a mane of hair to rival Throne’s!”

Jeremiah reached for his hair, that usually he kept short. He found handfuls of rich, chestnut coloured hair that was streaked with gold.

“I feel different, energised and truly alive.”

“Then I say the transformation has taken place. What did you see?”

Jeremiah tried to explain the sights and the journey, knowing he made a poor narrator.

“It has something to do with the gift of the child,” Marcus ventured.

“In the cave it was. I took a star from the pool. When I looked closely upon the star, my eyes hurt and I closed them, and I found myself back with you.”

“Come! Let’s swim.”

They left the cave and Jeremiah had never felt more at home in this realm, like he had been born in it; had been created for it. He kicked his legs and shot forward, surprising himself more than Marcus.

“Whoa!” he cried out and looked behind for Marcus.

“And without a tail; you are truly changed. Let us surface and watch for falling stars.”

“It is early yet, no?”

“It is late. You were gone for hours.”

Jeremiah could not fathom it all. He felt different, that much he knew. He was faster and more agile in the water. He saw further and heard clams a mile away take a breath. The glow in or on his skin created an aura around him that dispelled the gloom.

They raced to the surface and called it a draw as they broke through together. They dived and leapt as the dolphins do and some came to play. He heard their voices, the whistling and the shrill bark that sounded like scissors cutting glass, and he understood all.

The Ocean was calm and empty, save for the crests of the wake of the dolphins, caught in the light of the near-full moon. Jeremiah could still breathe out of the water, but that felt strange; stranger than being able to breathe under the water. They floated on their backs and named the few stars that were visible in the moon light and watched for the trails of shooting stars. It did not escape either of them that soon this peace would be shattered, and only a miracle would save it from certain destruction.

“You do not need to tell me the plan that you have hatched with Lord Protector and the others, Jeremiah. But know this; I will be at your side to the last. Now, after this day, I could not contemplate a life without you. If you are destined to die, then know that you will not die alone.”

“I am certain that death will be close but, equally, I am certain there is a chance. We must, I think, solemnise our union. We are bound to the Brotherhood but I need to feel bound to you, specially bound to you.”

“On the night of the Full Moon, which is two days hence, we can announce it. Many couples will, in the face of the times ahead.”

“If you are certain, then, I pledge myself to you and though our union will be, perhaps, brief, it will be the sole object of my life to make you happy.”

“Jeremiah, you already make me the happiest I have ever been or ever was likely to be.”

“I look for no sanction but, if Lord Protector will bless our union, I know that I shall never want for anything else.”

As they spoke these words a loud hiss startled them and a column of water was thrown up not fifty feet way.

“Quick! It is a shooting star. We must catch it before we lose sight of it,” urged Marcus, but Jeremiah was already under the surface and diving.

They swam as fast as they could. The thought of the prize pushed them to the utmost and there, a tantalising twenty feet beneath them, was the star, plummeting to the bottom of the Ocean. Closer they drew to it and Jeremiah found strength and speed from somewhere in the pit of his stomach and left Marcus in his wake.

“Gotcha!”

Jeremiah turned and slowed to allow Marcus to catch up. They took the star back to the cave to examine it under the brighter light of the lamp. The star was the size of Jeremiah’s fist and it looked like a star, not the dull, thumb-printed lump of iron that Jeremiah had seen once before. This was very different. It looked like a little crab basket and within the woven-like structure of shiny metal were crystals of a pale green hue.

“It is boy-Jeremiah’s star, the gifted star, the one from the pool,” asserted Jeremiah, his gaze transfixed by the object.

“If it is, then there can be no doubt that all our legends and myths are coming true.”

“What do you mean?” Puzzled Jeremiah

“You know the legend of the boy-Jeremiah, who saves the merman?”

“Yes. Sven told me when I saved him.”

“The boy, Jeremiah, dies saving him and is buried beneath the reef. Each year, gifts are left on the beach in Thanks Giving and Remembrance. The boy was buried under the reef and in the wars against Trillion, Sven the Elder kills Trillion by plunging Poseidon’s trident through the monster’s malevolent heart. The act destroys the city of Atlantis. When Poseidon pulled the trident out of the reef, in which the trident was embedded, it had three stars atop the tines; stars such as this. They are called ‘The Heart, Body and Soul of Jeremiah’…”

“What is this?”

“Jeremiah’s ‘Love’…”

Jeremiah gazed at the fallen star afresh.

“It is my betrothal gift to you.”

“But, Jeremiah, I am not worthy of this,” Marcus protested.

“Yes, Marcus, you are.”

They gathered their things and prepared to head back to the rift. Marcus was explaining his and other family connections.

“I am born of Tria’s line. It is rare and the line is nearly dead. In fact, it will die with me.”

“Tria was the daughter of Atlantis, was she not?”

“Yes. She married Sven the Elder and she had two sons. Orin is a descendent of one. And I am a descendent of the other.”

“So, you are not of Atlantis’ direct line? So how did the change happen? You carry Atlantis’ daughter’s blood in your veins.”

“I do. Most merfolk, nearly all, despite the fact that they are the product of the union of a mermaid and one of the gods, do not possess those qualities. They are not demi-gods. They only receive the gift that allows them to survive in and out of the water. Tria was a demi-goddess. Atlantis mated with a human woman and she gave birth to Tria. Tria was able to give her children our normal gifts and she imparted other gifts to her offspring. The strength of the gifts grew weaker over time. They were not like gifts of magic; but courage and grace, compassion, and sometimes healing. Margaret is of her line but she did not bear a child.”

It cast Marcus in a different light for Jeremiah. He could see the gods’ image in all merfolk but Marcus had a different quality and it was really only evident now.

This talk carried them back to the rift and they reported to Kyle. They asked for his permission to solemnise their union and it was given.

“Many have asked and none have been refused,” he reported. “The service at Full Moon will be the largest in living memory.”

They told him of the change and he wept.

“I will commission new armour for you Jeremiah,” and as a parting jest he added, “and it seems that one plate needs to be made a little bigger!”

Jeremiah blushed and his skin glowed with the fire of the blood red setting sun.

They visited the horses and communicated all that had happened to Throne.

“I see a change, Jeremiah. Only one of the gods can be certain that the transformation is complete. I counsel you to see Lord Protector and know for sure, and ask for his blessing. All have and all have received it.”

It was late and they postponed their visit to the palace until the following day.  They made their way to Marcus’ dwelling to find Elijah waiting for them.

“The Brotherhood meets tonight, brothers,” he advised them.

“Why did not Kyle say?”

“I am on my way to speak to him now.”

“What is the reason for the calling?” asked Jeremiah.

“To share what gifts are left, before the war. And all who have seen Jeremiah say he is the incarnation of the boy-Jeremiah, who saved the merman; and all believe Jeremiah will save the Seas. We bond to share the fate of our brother.”

Elijah hastened away and Jeremiah was overcome with emotions and discordant thoughts.

“Let us go in, Jeremiah.” And Marcus took his arm and guided him through the door.

“I hardly know how to bear the weight of these expectations, Marcus. My life becomes myth and legend. I need reality; the beast is real…”

“Accept the gifts that are offered, Jeremiah, and then strive to honour them. It is all that you can do. If you give the merKingdom hope, it is your gift.”

“What if I fail?”

“What if we fail? What if we succeed?”

It did little to quieten Jeremiah’s mind. The prospect of the sharing at the Brotherhood circle made him anxious. All would know what had happened and expectations would just increase. They left for the midnight calling and it was held in the stable with the horses.

They joined hands and shared everything. This time the horses moved forward and placed their foreheads against the backs of their riders. The sharing intensified. Love, anguish, hope, fear, longings, yearnings, strength and weakness; all shared and divided; not by the twenty, but by the forty. The bonds with the horses became unseverable. The chain mail grew stronger; the links tighter and all saw the change and received their part. It did not diminish Jeremiah’s transformation; it made it stronger because it was made real: a living thing and a thing known. And of the pledges, Jeremiah and Marcus’ was not the only one announced in the Brotherhood, and even those who had already solemnised their union, planned to renew their pledge. The only thing that Jeremiah had been able to keep from the group was the actual plan for the attack on the Leviathan; Throne had interceded.

Once the calling was over, all left. There was no need of words because all had been shared.

Jeremiah and Marcus returned to Marcus’ dwelling and the mood was one of quiet, meditative peace. They had shared all, as they had with the rest. Marcus platted and wrapped Jeremiah’s hair, in the ‘aquatic Viking” style of a single thick plat running down the length of his back.

“Easier to manage,” he said quietly, as he worked.

He wove the ring in to it.

“But, Marcus, it belonged to your father; it’s too much,” Jeremiah protested.

“You gave me the star.”

“That’s different.”

Marcus would not take the ring out of the weave and only by quelling the protests with a kiss did Jeremiah finally accept it.

They lay together. Neither was really thinking; just being together was enough. Though, just before they turned in, Jeremiah had a thought that he had kept at bay since awakening from the transformation, “He will never forgive me now.”

Chapter Eight – The Changeling’s Moon

Early the following morning, Jeremiah received his new armour. Jeremiah had not visited the artisans’ workshops and the sight of the armour plates made him promise himself that he would before the day was over.

It was not immediately obvious of what the plates were made. They fitted snuggly and felt like Marcus’ skin against his.

“What is it made of?” he asked Marcus.

“Shark skin; hardened shark skin and look, the closures that pin the two halves together at the shoulder are made from shark teeth.”

They were. At first Jeremiah thought they were maybe bone or coral ‘toggles’ but they were teeth, Great White teeth. The front and back plates were joined and fastened over the shoulder and buckled at the sides, just above his waist. The plate was light but very, very strong. The grey contrasted against his creamy, glowing skin and he thought he looked like a shark. The helmet was slightly domed and it had cheek guards that extended and curved to his chin, like a shark’s jaw. It buckled under his chin. The gauntlets were made of the same material and in one piece, not made from two halves and buckled like before. There was a ‘box’ to protect his manhood that had a waist band and two straps that went between his legs and attached to the band at the rear. The artisans had also made a belt and a new scabbard for Poseidon’s blade. He attached the scabbard and the horn to the belt.

“Am I ready?” he asked.

“Turn round.”

Jeremiah complied, thinking that Marcus wished to check the back plate and the fastenings. The arms curled around him and crossed over his chest and he felt Marcus’ lips on his neck.

“Yes. I would say so.”

“We have to attend the palace and ask for Lord Protector’s blessing.”

“Yes.”

The merman reached down and slid his hand under Jeremiah’s buttocks, moving it back and forth, very gently. His fingers moved far enough forward just enough to touch Jeremiah’s scrotum, held securely by the box. Each time Marcus touched him there he jolted as if zapped by an eel. His state of arousal intensified as Marcus caressed his buttocks and rubbed his entrance-way.

“Marcus,” he murmured, all hope lost!

The hand was removed and he felt Marcus recede a little and then the probing re-commenced with something a little bigger than a finger! Jeremiah squirmed to skewer himself on the rod. Marcus didn’t bury himself so deep this time. He thrust gently, learning where Jeremiah was most sensitive. Jeremiah gave a strangulated bark-like sound each time Marcus nudged his gland.

Every thrust was like the bellows to the fire. Every thrust made his organs glow brightly.

“I love you.’

The words were accompanied by a kiss and his skin, in that moment of utter bliss, shone like a beacon and the words found their way into his head, into his heart and into his soul and each word exploded like the star that fell into the Ocean.

“I love you too.”

Hand in hand they swam to the palace and those who saw them stopped in their tracks, and reflected, just for a moment, on their own love for their parent or child, brother or sister, lover, husband or wife.

Jeremiah and Marcus arrived at the palace and sought an audience with Atlantis, and they weren’t alone. Each couple advanced and asked for the permission and each couple left with their Lord’s blessing. Jeremiah and Marcus were the last pair left and they advanced as the others had and bowed their heads.

“You have changed, Jeremiah,” quizzed Atlantis.

Jeremiah looked up and told him of the events in the cave.

“There is no doubt in my mind, Jeremiah, that you are changed.”

And Jeremiah heard more than just the necessary confirmatory words. Behind them was a hope, a plea almost.

“We seek your permission for our union, Lord Protector.”

“Have you chosen, then, Jeremiah?” asked Atlantis.

“I have chosen, Sire,” he replied in a steady voice, and he looked deeply into the eyes and saw the joy and the angst, in equal measure, being played out on the king’s brow.

“You have my blessing.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

“Marcus.”

Marcus lifted his head.

“I command you to protect Jeremiah until your dying breath.”

“No command is necessary, Sire, I have pledged to do so, but I am honoured by the call nonetheless.”

“Go and prepare for the Blessing tomorrow. It will be the last night of peace we share until the beast is slain.”

They left and remained silent until they were half way back to the stables.

“I think he cherished hopes of a different kind, but he knows that a man must choose his own path,” Marcus declared softly.

“Sven has made his choices and he must live by them. He chose Abrial and paid the price.”

“We all paid the price!” asserted Marcus.

“Poseidon’s wrath released the Leviathan, but it was only a matter of time. This way we end the war and, whoever survives, will have peace.”

“I pray we are among those who survive.”

Nothing else needed to be said and they visited Throne and gave him the news of their blessing.

Jeremiah could not dismiss Sven from his mind. He believed he had loved the merman at one point. He had saved Sven’s life three times and had prayed until his heart ached that he recovered from the injury. When he thought about how his life with Marcus would hopefully be, he could not conjuror up the same images of the same happy life with Sven; a tempestuous one for certain, but not entirely happy. Then he wondered if he had played safe and allowed old habits to dictate his choices. Then he reminded himself of the plan and the lunacy of it and concluded that, if he and Marcus survived, he would cherish the safety of that choice above all things.

Marcus detected the internal debate and suggested they had a little time alone to prepare for the following day.

“I will come by later, Jeremiah,” he promised.

“Yes. Okay,” Jeremiah replied absently.

They parted with a kiss no less ardent than usual.

Jeremiah sought out Margaret.

“What ails you child?” she asked.

“A pain in my heart.”

“Ah. That one I have no remedy for. Jeremiah, Sven struggles to find his place in this world. His ‘fathers’ place such high expectations on him, it is small wonder that he rebels, and seeks to outrage them. He craves simple love and affection.”

“I promised him both once, and now I feel the sharp pain of my fickleness.”

“Nothing would have been easy, Jeremiah, though that is not a reason to avoid the trial. Often it proves the metal of the couple. Sven needs to work out who he is and where he needs to be. Until he does, there will be no peace in his heart, and he cannot pledge himself to another until he learns to live with his choices, and his duties.”

“I am pledged to Marcus now.”

“I am happy for you. Marcus is a fine merman and his qualities are many and in abundance. Do you ask if you made the right choice? I cannot say; you chose. You let your heart lead you and this is where it has brought you. You made a choice, and there is always a price to be paid for a choice. Dare I make the comparison, but, a life with Sven would be like the shooting star. A life with Marcus will be like the seasons, constant.”

“If we survive,” Jeremiah stated very plainly.

“Our hopes rest with you, Jeremiah.”

“Perhaps that is the source of the pain and not love.”

“Only time will tell and it will tell soon enough. You do not face the Leviathan alone. That is something to be grateful for.”

But Jeremiah left with the thought that Sven faced his own Leviathan, and he was alone, albeit of his own choosing.

He mediated for a short time and then visited the artisanal workshops. Every craft was practised there and he was spellbound by the blowing of glass. Sand was in abundance, so it made some sense.

“How do you heat it?” he asked the artist.

“Come closer and look inside the furnace,” invited the glass-worker.

The furnace was the shape of a beehive with an aperture on one side; it looked like a bread oven. The furnace sat above a stove pipe that led to a cauldron of molten lava. The artisan filled a crucible with sand. The crucible was on a long handle. He carefully inserted the crucible into the furnace. As the sand heated and melted he blew down the handle, which was hollow. At the end of the handle, where it joined the cup, there was a largish needle. The water, thus forced down the handle and through the needle into the balloon of glass, caused the bulb to expand. When the balloon was of the right size he withdrew it and it cooled immediately. He prised the balloon from the melting cup. He held up a perfect sphere, which had a hole in it, the size of the needle. Using different crucibles he could create balloons of various sizes and shapes. Most were used to preserve kelp oil.

He made another and added coloured sand and crushed pink coral and the sphere became opaque and the surface was covered in a swirling pattern.

“You are Jeremiah,” stated the merman candidly.

“Yes. I am Jeremiah.”

“You are going to kill the Leviathan and save the Seas.”

“That is what they say.”

“Are they right?”

“I will try my best.’

The merman said nothing and took up another crucible, much like the first. He added green, blue and white sand. He heated it like before and forced water down the handle and through the needle into the balloon. It expanded. In the furnace the colour was uniform red as the glass reflected the glow of the lava beneath the work bed. When he withdrew the bulb, its colour was then revealed; the colour of the sea around Jeremiah’s village. And the pattern swirled and grew darker and lighter, as if it moved with the tides.

“A reminder of home,” said the merman has he handed the sphere to Jeremiah.

“Thank you.”

Jeremiah went back to his own dwelling and set the sphere on the table. He gazed at for a few minutes and then went to find Marcus. He was busy polishing his armour plate.

“I cannot look like the poor relation,” he jibed.

“If all the riches of this world were placed before me, and I had to choose between them and you, I would choose you.”

It was a long time before they released each other from the embrace.

“Tell me, what happens at the Blessing tomorrow?” questioned Jeremiah.

“We gather at the palace and say our vows together, led by Lord Protector.”

“And that’s it? The union is official?”

“It is a very simple service but the meaning is very profound; much like a human service I’m sure.”

“Yes, the same. But as part of the service we exchange rings.”

“We have exchanged our tokens. Couples can do so tomorrow as they say their vows.”

“You gave me a ring; I don’t have one to give you,” lamented Jeremiah.

“You gave me the star!”

“It’s not the same; you can’t wear it on your finger.”

“Is it important that you exchange a ring with me?”

Jeremiah had to think. It was what a couple did. As to whether it was truly important, he had not thought about it; it was just accepted.

“It will always remind me of you and our promises to each other.”

“Then we shall get one made.”

They left the quarters and headed for the workshops.

“I have no gold,” queried Jeremiah. And he realised, save for the armour and the blade, and now the globe, he had nothing.

“Wait!” counselled Marcus.

When they arrived, Jeremiah was still at a loss. Marcus retrieved the ring of gold that he had woven into Jeremiah’s hair.

“With your permission, I will ask the Smith to make two from one.”

Jeremiah could not contain his emotions any longer. The phrase, the simple request, unlocked a dam of pent up feelings. He sobbed into Marcus’ chest. When the shuddering quakes had subsided he looked up into Marcus’ eyes.

“I love you. Thank you.”

Marcus kissed him until their skins glowed like the furnace at which they were stood.

Not long after the artisan handed Marcus two rings. They did not wear them on their fingers; they were destined to be woven into their hair; a safer place. For now, Marcus put them both into his pouch.

They returned to Marcus’ dwelling by way of Jeremiah’s and retrieved the globe. Jeremiah closed the window and the door for the last time.

They spent the night in each other’s arms quietly. Each described the life they had wanted and the life they now contemplated.

“If we-‘

“When we-“

“When we come back, I want us to go to the Southern Reaches,” declared Jeremiah.

“Agreed. I think many will go there to recover for a time.”

They slept soundly. The day had been exhausting in so many ways. It wasn’t the reveille that woke them, but the hum of excitement from every quarter. Not just in the city but all along the rift.

Jeremiah was thoughtful. This day meant so much to so many. He panicked at one point, it was the day he needed to bond and a sudden surge of doubt immobilised him.

“Atlantis, Lord Protector, assured you that the transformation had taken place, Jeremiah. There is no doubt. But, if you’re worried…”

Jeremiah caught the implication and smiled, filling the room with light.

“I have not bonded with you yet,” he reminded Marcus.

“Tonight we will bond with each other.”

“It is Full Moon,” exclaimed Jeremiah, recalling the last, viewed from the surface of the Ocean, with Sven at his side.

“They are calling it ‘The Changeling Moon’, in your honour.”

“More portents.”

“It is a gift.”

The entire rift was in motion. All readied themselves for the Blessing, and the journey to the surface to see the moon rise. At the appointed time, the community of merfolk made their way to the palace plateau; the only space large enough for the city to congregate. The guard arrived on the horses. Atlantis and Striel stood on a dais, ready to address the kingdom. Prow sang a hymn. The rift reverberated with the sounds and his dying, final note ushered in a silence.

“Those that seek to join in union and make their vows, hold hands”

At least fifty couples reached out and clasped their mate’s hands.

“The union of two is unshakeable and for life. Death alone breaks the bond. Repeat the solemn vows.

“I take thee to be my sworn mate”

“I take thee to be my sworn mate,” repeated a hundred voices.

“I will honour thine gifts.”

“I will honour thine gifts.”

“I will protect you.”

“I will protect you”

“I pledge my love to you alone.”

“I pledge my love to you alone.”

Jeremiah felt a lump rise to his throat, and Marcus squeezed his hand.

“I will share all I have.”

“I will share all I have.”

“I will harbour no secrets.”

“I will harbour no secrets.”

“We are one, together.”

“We are one, together.”

Atlantis fell silent for a moment and raised his arms. When he spoke, the words pounded in their ears like waves crashing on the beach.

“The bond is forged, the union made and IT IS BLESSED!”

“JEREMIAH!”

The entire rift sang out the word, and even though Jeremiah knew that it was not his name that they sang out, he felt, for an instant, connected with every living thing in the Seas. Then the congregation fell silent and you could hear a bubble burst.

A vibration could be felt in the water; far off but getting closer. The vibration gave way to a sound, a deep rhythmic boom. To Jeremiah it sounded like a mighty gong was being struck. Louder it grew and the water warped in its path. Louder and closer it got until you could not hear the thoughts in your own head and then, with waves of light that looked like wild horses pursued by the Devil himself, Poseidon arrived with the army of the Middle Waters, spilling over the lip of the rift, engulfing the beacon and the top of the palace.

“JEREMIAH!” all sang out and Jeremiah the loudest.

Chapter Nine – Sven the Younger

The cave was dark but at least it provided some shelter. Sven was weak. In his rashness he had left without provisions, though they were scant. He didn’t have the strength to stay in the water and slumped to the floor of the cave, lamenting his stupidity. The words died on his lips as he fell asleep.

When the sun rose, the light illuminated the cave, and he realised he was closer to the surface than he thought. Risking the last of his energy, he ventured out. The scene was unfamiliar, but then he did not know these waters well. It was but the second time he had visited the Northern Realm. The cave was beneath a jagged crown of rocks that extended to the surface, which was barely twenty feet above his head. He risked a peek. The ‘crown’ was perhaps fifty or sixty yards from the coast; a coast of tumbled boulders. The boulders were smooth unlike the ‘crown’, worn down over the centuries, the product of the relentless action of the sea. It was high tide by the look of it, but the water was receding.

Foraging for something to eat was his only choice. Some young kelp there might be; cuttle-fish bone perhaps. He knew he would not find any pearls. He spied some young kelp, near the shore. Driven by hunger, he set off, but fighting the receding tide sapped his strength and he could hardly move his tail. As the water became shallower, he clawed his way forward until he approached the basins formed by the big rocks. The out-going tide left one or two deeper pools and in one final desperate lunge he got into one of the deeper ones where there was some kelp clinging to the sides; much like he was now.

Reserves spent, he closed his eyes and allowed the movement of the water to lull him off.

The swirling waters of his mind were swollen with the run-off of the deluge from the angst of thinking about Jeremiah and the disclosure of events over the last few days. Hot indignation boiled the waters like a kettle. Why was this human, this ‘freak’, courting such honour? Why did Throne choose him? Why did the Brotherhood accept him into their ranks? Why hadn’t Jeremiah chosen him?

“He saved your life thrice.”

The voice startled him.

“I did not ask him to.”

“Would you be happier dead?”

“Death is sometimes preferable.”

“To what? Pain, fear, loneliness, rejection?”

“I see no way clearly.”

“Blinded by imagined slights. ‘Hot-headed’ youth, intent on proving yourself unworthy and, satisfied with the outcome, you rebel.”

“I am different.”

“So? All are special. A blue tail does not give you licence to abandon reason or shun your responsibilities.”

“Poseidon does not care.”

“He cares. You provoked his temper, why? To prove you are what? Stronger?”

“He promises me a glorious future and yet I am supposed to be happy teasing crabs out of the fisherman’s basket.”

“What now then? The slow death. This kelp will barely make one decent meal. You consign yourself to the life of a scavenger.”

“I will have respect.”

“You have to earn it; even you.”

“How?”

“At last a flicker of hope.”

“What shall I do?”

“Honour your gifts and give freely with your heart. Expect no reward for your labours.”

“Jeremiah abandoned me.”

“Do you blame him?”

“He said he loved me.”

“You called him ‘interloper’; just now, a ‘freak’. Can you be surprised?”

“I love him.”

“Honour the gift.”

“How?”

“Save his life.”

“Is he in danger?”

“He will face the Leviathan and his chance of success rests on a hair’s breadth.”

“I must go then. But I am weak.”

Silence.

“Where are you? Please don’t go!”

“Who are you?” The voice came out of the void and it caused him to flick open his eyes. Momentarily dazzled by the sun, he saw a figure cloaked in shimmering white, and from within the haze, two piercing, blue eyes.

“Who are you?”

“Elizabeth.”

Chapter Ten – Whale Dance

Poseidon was carried on a chariot drawn by four sea horses; four black stallions of Throne’s size. Their coats shone like obsidian. They moved like oil through the water and descended to the plateau. The Middle Water Army stayed behind him; a living cordon.

The final word of the crowd died and all bowed their heads in the presence of the god.

Atlantis moved forward to greet him.

“Hail, Brother!”

“Brother…”

Poseidon moved more slowly, perhaps less comfortable in the armour these days. Jeremiah stole a look and felt the piercing gaze; two black pearls that found his eyes and…smiled.

“Bring me my blade,” he commanded and Jeremiah raised his head and then moved steadily towards the dais, grateful for the fact that he didn’t have to walk for he was sure his knees would have buckled if he had tried.

“Father.” And with the word he went onto one knee and held up the blade in its scabbard, handle towards the ‘Old Man’, as Drotha called him. Poseidon grasped the stock and pulled the blade free of the sheath.

With the blade in his hand, Poseidon shed years of care from his brow and his muscles swelled like bladderwort.

“All who value life, ready yourselves for the scourge of the demon. We leave as the moon sets.”

It was the catalyst too, for the merfolk of the Middle Waters descended and the joining of the peoples was like two waves meeting head on. In the melee, brother sought brother, sister sought sister and Logan forged a path directly to where Jeremiah, Marcus and Kyle were waiting. The embraces spoke a thousand words of welcome, save one.

“Jeremiah! It is good to see you,” exclaimed Logan.

“It is good to see you too, Logan.”

“You are…’changed’…”

Wishing to divert some of the attention away from that, Jeremiah clasped Marcus’ hand and said,

“And in blessed union.”

“That would account for it,” Logan replied, good-naturedly.

As they stood, Poseidon leaned in and spoke to Atlantis, who gave orders to Striel. The merman giant boomed out the orders.

“Captains ready our forces. The guard is called.”

Activity sprang up everywhere and the vast sea of bodies formed knots around mermen who Jeremiah had not met; the captains. Kyle called the guard.

“Bring the guard into the palace, Kyle,” ordered Atlantis.

“We are called, Logan, we will find you later, in the Hall,” counselled Jeremiah.

“You are in the guard? Me thinks the blade will find its way back into your hand.”

“Of that I am pretty certain. Later!”

The guard was advancing and Jeremiah had no choice but to follow. The kings, Striel, the guard, the horses and Prow disappeared into the reception chamber. Jeremiah felt lost and wondered if it was the lack of a blade at his side that made him feel naked and vulnerable. Had so much in him changed?

“Jeremiah,” called out Poseidon, and Jeremiah advanced to the edge of the tactics table.

“Sire.”

“Put this blade where it belongs before I cut myself on it.” And Poseidon gave the blade back to Jeremiah who slid it back into scabbard. Just before he turned to leave the table, Poseidon added, “…you made a wise choice.”

Jeremiah was uncertain but assumed Poseidon meant his choice of Marcus and not Sven.

“Thank you, Sire.”

“Now…” and Poseidon drew everyone in and all were held in rapt attention as the plan in its final glory was unveiled to them. At the breaking up of the group, Poseidon called Prow, Throne, Marcus and Jeremiah to one side.

“It is a daring plan.”

And they knew he meant that he did not expect to see them all alive again. “We will draw the demon’s hordes as far away as we can. Atlantis, Briscoe and I will distract the beast whilst you get into position. But after that, you’re on your own.”

He looked at each one, with kinder eyes than they were used to, and gave each of the men a black pearl the size of a grape.

“Keep it until just before the assault.”

Then he turned away and hailed for Atlantis and Striel.

“Let us ready ourselves then,” encouraged Jeremiah, at a loss for other words, but then added plaintively, “we did not see the moon rise.”

“Come then! There is time. Let us ride together and bathe in her light,” urged Marcus, and they all agreed, and all knew that it might be the last time.

They ascended, and in truth, others had made the same call, but the four kept apart and when they broke the surface they were at least two or three hundred yards from their nearest neighbour. Whether real or imagined, or maybe hoped for, the moon was especially bright and she had a halo; rare for the time of year.

“The Changeling Moon,” spelt out Prow in the first few notes of an old song.

“We’ll write the ballad when we get back. Shall we see you dance, Prow?” jibed Marcus.

The old whale flicked his tail and sent a shower of moonlit droplets over them. “I believe we will,” Marcus added gleefully.

Prow descended out of sight and then breached the surface some distance from them, turning three hundred and sixty degrees before sinking back into the sparkling brine. He repeated the move several times and then dived. They waited with bated breath; surely he would come back.

With speed they did not know he possessed and a grace unfathomable for a creature so large he broke through and soared into the night sky. The zenith of his arc was at least twice his own length. Just at the point of his turn he flicked his tail and as he dived, he twisted, corkscrewing back into the inky black with barely a ripple.

“I believe our comrade is not alone,” announced Throne, and at that moment, Prow, and five of his brethren, breached the surface. The pillar of water thus thrust up in their midst, rose like the plume of a volcano, and showered down on them, giving birth to a hundred rainbows.

“Worthy of a ballad or two,” nodded Marcus, enthralled like the rest and grateful, just for a moment, to have the thoughts of their task pushed out of his mind.

They returned to the city to find Logan and receive their battle provisions. The moon was now sinking and three hours were left before the crusade began.

Chapter Eleven – ‘Honour your gifts’

“What are doing in the pool?”

Sven began to make out the form of a girl. She was standing by the pool with sun directly behind her.

“I’m resting. I swam too far.”

“From where?”

“Are you alone?” he asked, avoiding her question.

“Yes. I came to collect mussels on the receding tide. I often collect them from here. I don’t remember ever seeing you before.”

“I don’t know this place; the current took me off course. I just need to rest.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sven.”

By now, Sven could see the girl clearly and she was one of the most beautiful humans he had ever seen.

“I can stay for a while, if you’d like to talk.”

“Yes. I would like that.”

The girl sat down on a large stone at the edge of the pool.

“How will you reach the mussels?”

“I’ll get in…but…”

“I won’t hurt you. I could help you.”

The girl smiled and her eyes danced like mating Kingfishers.

“If I fill the basket then mother will be very pleased.”

“Come in then and we’ll collect them together, in half the time.”

“I don’t have a bathing costume on. Usually it’s deserted here.

“I’ll look away as you get undressed and get in,” proposed Sven.

“If you promise not to peek.”

“I promise.”

“Turn your head and close your eyes then.”

Sven looked away and smiled to himself. He recalled games as a child with his playmates. The maids were always so bashful!

He heard her put down the basket and the rustle of fabric. A wave lapped at his neck and he assumed she had climbed in.

“You can open your eyes now.”

She was in the water, up to her shoulders, perched on a rock near the centre of the pool.

“The easiest way to get a mussel to come free is to tickle it under the beard. Mussels are very ticklish. Tickle him with one hand and pull him away gently with the other.”

“How do you know that? That they’re ticklish.”

“My mother told me.”

She had and much else about the wonders of the sea and the creatures in it. Sven struggled to recall other things she’d said. At the time his attention was always distracted by something; the sinister shadows at the edge of the reef that he found so beguiling.

They started to collect the mussels and pile them on the edge of the pool. Very soon they had collected enough to fill the basket.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Do you know if there are any pearl beds here?”

“Pearls? I never heard of any.”

“No matter.”

“Why don’t we get out now and warm ourselves up in the sun. My skin is turning pruney.”

“You get out then. I prefer to be in the water.”

The girl made her way to the side of the pool and just before she climbed out she turned.

“Don’t peek!”

Sven smiled and closed his eyes.

Seconds later there was a huge splash and he opened his eyes in a heartbeat to see the girl, half submerged, falling backwards into the water. He pushed himself forward and caught her before her face went under. He had his arms around her waist and she turned within those arms, still blinking water out of her eyes. Recovered, she gazed upon his face and then placed her tiny hands upon his cheeks, lightly pressing her lips against his.

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome, again.”

“Oh!”

“What’s the matter?”

“You’ve got a tail.”

Her feet had brushed up against his tail as she’d moved.

“I…have a tail.”

“A merman; you’re a merman,” she whispered, almost to herself.

“I am.”

“Are you going to drown me, cut off my hair to make your harp strings, and feed the rest of me to the fishes?” She demanded to know, and there was a slight panic in her voice.

“No. Is that what you think we do?”

“That’s what they say.”

“A story to scare you, and keep you from swimming out too far.”

“Probably. What are you going to do?”

“I wasn’t going to do anything. In any event, I’m too weak.”

“Is that why you wanted to know if there were pearls nearby?”

“Yes. We eat pearls.”

“They got that bit right then?”

“There’s a seed pearl of truth in every tale.”

The girl did not seem to be in any hurry to get out of the pool now and Sven was amused at her budding curiosity, wondering where the next question would come from.

“Is that all you eat?”

“That and kelp, and cuttle fish. Mussel beard if I’m really desperate.”

“But pearls are best?”

“Yes. One the size of the tip of your little finger is usually enough for the day.”

“My mother has some pearls. Father gave them to her when they got married.”

“I need two or three…”

“What if I went to fetch them for you?”

“But it would be wrong to steal them; especially as they were a gift.”

“He’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry. Did he drown?”

“No. He had cancer.”

Sven didn’t know the word and just looked into the girl’s eyes and saw tears forming. He pulled her to him and held her gently against himself. Her hair still smelled sweet, despite the dunking.

She sobbed a little and then shook herself, admonishingly.

“If you did have some pearls, I would bring you some back, after I’ve recovered well enough to swim to the beds.”

“Mother doesn’t take them out of the box anymore. She won’t miss a few for a time.”

“How long would you be gone?”

“I’d be back in half an hour.”

“I promise to bring you some back; on the Full Moon.”

“That’s in two days.”

“That’s too soon. The next one.”

The girl seemed to come to a decision and Sven assumed it was the one to help him.

“Okay. I will fetch them. Stay here.”

“I can’t leave without some food.”

“I’ll be gone and back before you know it.”

The girl, her mind now made, scrambled out of the pool, donned her dress and raced away, leaving the basket behind.

“She’ll have to come back for the basket if nothing else,” Sven murmured to himself, even more curious at this trait in humans to help others. He ate some kelp and nibbled the beards from a few mussel shells, to while away the time as much as anything else.

She arrived back breathless and her cheeks were daubed with a rose from the exertion.

“I have them,” she cried out.

“You don’t have to get back in. I can come to that side and reach up.”

She seemed disappointed but Sven was at a loss to understand why.

“I’ll come in to cool off,” she announced and without hesitation she plucked off the dress and slid in to the pool. In her hand she held the necklace of pearls that had been the wedding gift from her father to her mother. “Will these do?” she asked as she held out her hand.

“They are very fine. I need only three.”

“Take them. You don’t know where you’ll find the next ones. Mr. Janice says a big storm is coming; you should be careful.”

“There is a big storm coming. You should go home and nail the shutters tight.”

“Please take them…it’s just that I wanted to…kiss you again.”

Sven smiled boyishly and his skin took on the same hue as her cheeks. She knew he felt as she.

“A kiss for these pearls is a handsome trade.”

“I would give you the pearls even if you said no.”

Sven was grappling with so many emotions he didn’t know which one to tackle first. In his confusion the girl moved and placed her hands on his cheeks again. Just before she planted the kiss, she said, “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Then she kissed him.

How shall we call it, ‘youthful passion’ or ‘naivety’? They kissed for a long time and held each other close. Youth and naivety aside they were driven to explore their passions and with yearnings starved, feasted rapaciously.

“I will come back, at noon on the day of the Full Moon. Meet me here.” He promised

“I’ll be waiting.”

Sven broke the thread of the necklace and eased off two pearls and swallowed them. He re-tied the thread and slipped it over his head. The energy in the pearls surged through his body and his normal glow returned.

“Goodbye!”

“Goodbye Sven.”

He launched and flipped out of the pool, diving into the deeper water the other side. He surfaced once to wave.

Chapter Twelve – To the Plain of Ur

Poseidon had brought one hundred of the folk from the Middle Waters. The very young and the very old stayed behind with a few of the younger mermen to guard their home and protect the pearl beds from raids by the rays. Atlantis’ force was about the same, plus the guard on horseback. In the previous few days, emissaries from Atlantis with the captains of the army had travelled the entire length of the rift, recruiting and forming units of the able bodied. There wasn’t space for a sardine in the rift now.

Atlantis, Lord Protector, led the vast volunteer army out into the open sea. It took ten hours for the hordes to pass through the gates. Poseidon led the merfolk and the guard. Like in Middle Waters, a contingent was left behind. With no pearl beds to protect, they made the Sick Bay ready, to receive the fallen, under the supervision of Ingrid and Margaret.

Poseidon and the army left the rift and, once they had reached the head of the column of volunteers, assimilated his force within the protective curtain of their mass. The formation was called ‘the jaws of the eel’. At the crucial moment, the mass of creatures at the head of the column would move away, like jaws opening, and the army would dart out, with surprise and speed on their side. If the foe was defeated, the army would re-group, and their ‘living’ camouflage would move back to hide them.

Prow, Throne, Jeremiah and Marcus left quietly and no one saw the route they took.

The battle ground at the Plain of Ur was two or three days away, and that was if the column maintained a reasonable speed. Both of the kings expected skirmishes well before then. Briscoe’s arrival could only be guessed at; still ten days away was the feeling.

The plain itself was within the mountains and the rifts where the Brotherhood of the Guard had encountered the eye of the Leviathan. There were plenty of places to hide and to set up ambushes, but, in truth, no one expected anything less than a bloodbath.

Prow and the others had need of stealth. They had little protection, in truth. Prow swam close to the seabed, with the other three beneath his giant belly. They were heading to a place few knew, a kind of eyrie, with a view of the entire plain. Their strategy wasn’t based on any sort of surprise attack. No. Their assault on the Leviathan took its shape from a story much earlier in history. Where a horse played a significant part then too!

The kings were right to expect trouble, and it came in waves. Squadrons of the enemy attacked from all sides. Battalions of Orca and barracuda in lightning strikes aimed to break up the ranks. Legions of snakes descended like a deadly rain to reduce numbers, and to clog the ranks with the corpses of their unlucky victims.

But the kings had the benefit of numbers, and their ranks still swelled with creatures that hadn’t reached the rift by the time they’d left. The first true test came when, at the edge of the Ocean desert plains, just before the mountain system began, they encountered the rays. Drotha made no attempt to hide; fairly well taunting Poseidon and Atlantis, especially Poseidon, to engage. And between the ranks of the rays, that looked like flocks of great Albatross, spiny urchins and the fearsome Man of War.

“This will test the sharpness of the blade. What say you, Brother?” Poseidon ventured.

“He means business and the loss of the mutant fuels his revenge. He needed more guidance, Brother.”

“Perhaps.”

All saw the wall of death that they approached and all said their prayers. The armies and legions fanned out to present their own wall and at the crucial time, Prow’s brethren made their way out of the gloom; huge submarines of flesh that quelled some of the fear. But whales don’t have blades or spines and their contribution seemed to be limited until they started thrashing their great tails from side to side and the wall of death was quickly reduced to a rabble and in the melee, Poseidon and Atlantis surged, hoping to catch Drotha off his guard. The ploy worked in the main and in the confusion, large numbers of the enemy were killed for few losses; but there were some.

Atlantis called the guard, and with Kyle at its head, they readied for an assault on Drotha. He stood his water, albeit he looked less confident, daring not to show it. Only when the horses beat their wings and moved did he start to retreat. Poseidon led the charge in his chariot pulled by the four black stallions, and the sight injected fear into even the bravest.

Drotha was quick in flight, but he was slow to manoeuvre. Prow’s comrade, Corm, thrashed his tail to send a barrage of urchins in Drotha’s direction, and many found their target; unwitting allies. His screams sliced through the water like a blade. More thrashing and more urchins were propelled into the ranks of the enemy. The armies drew nearer and the enemy tried to close it ranks, and in the maelstrom, ray beat against ray. In the crush, the spines of the urchins were driven deeper into Drotha’s flesh. Poseidon pressed on, driven by the taunts, and, a longer memory of the hurts suffered at the hands of Trillion and the mutants.

The enemy retreated in the face of the stony faced god, but still Poseidon pushed on. They neared the rift system, and many of the enemy escaped, for now.

The main force hadn’t yet been committed, or encountered, and who could forget the Leviathan? As they drew closer to the killing field, the taint in the water grew stronger and stronger; throat clagging, gill clogging toxins polluted the Seas.

Poseidon halted to draw a breath before the final advance. The sweep of the eye of the Leviathan grazed over the ranks. Poseidon challenged it. Standing steadfast, he levelled the fabled trident, and with the three stars atop the tines, he sent his compliments into the void. He hit something, because the beam was shut off. It signalled a pause on both sides.

Prow led the others through a convoluted system of channels which kept them hidden, albeit their progress was slow. There was no discussion. The companionable silence was reassuring in its way. Jeremiah and Marcus swam slightly ahead of Throne, all still beneath the whale, and had it not been for the glow of their skin, they would have been in near total darkness.

“Do you taste it?” asked Jeremiah, feeling a burning at the back of this throat.

“We near our target,” advised Throne, from the rear.

“How much further Prow?” asked Marcus, with growing impatience.

“Half a day. Don’t hasten the end. It is of its own time and making. If we arrive too soon, the Leviathan will still be surrounded, and we won’t get a chance. We dare not risk detection.”

“You don’t have to do this, Marcus.”

“Yes, I do, Jeremiah. If you were killed and I was spared, how would I live without you? Our union binds us in love, in life and in death.”

“Strangely, I am not scared. Death waits, almost certainly, but it does not paralyse me with fear. The greater good will triumph. If we are part of that New World, I will be over-joyed. If we are not, then I still say I am happy, as long as the Leviathan is slain.”

“What if it survives?”

“Then someone else will have to try.”

Prow came to a stop.

“Something is coming,” he advised, in the quietest and lowest voice he could manage and still the rocks trembled.

He stopped and the others proceeded until they were under his chin and then they halted. Four identical shapes moved towards them at a steady pace.

“It is the Great Whites,” cautioned Throne.

“What do they want?” asked Jeremiah.

“To talk.”

Chapter Thirteen – Sven’s Progress

The pearls gave him vitality, but Sven still needed time to heal fully. The encounter with the girl at the pool had left him thoughtful, but certainly not troubled.

She had been willing to give him the pearls for nothing, out of the kindness of her heart. “So much like Jeremiah,” he said to himself. “Are all humans like this?” But he knew that wasn’t true.

“I will fetch pearls and take them back. I promised I would and I will.”

But a whole different set of thoughts was beginning to emerge. If there were good people; people willing to give without receiving anything in return, then, did he not owe them something? The magnifying glass of his conscience, newly awakened, showed him where the faults lay, and how it might be possible to begin to address the balance. Humans in Jeremiah’s village had died. Countless millions would surely perish in the battle with the Leviathan. Had he caused this?

“You bear a part, Sven; though only a part.”

“But if I hadn’t broken the rules, then this would not have happened.”

“Perhaps not at this time. But, the ice is melting and maybe in ten, fifty or a hundred years the prison would have failed in any event.”

“Something would have been done before that happened.”

“Nothing has been done for centuries. All forgot too easily their fears and wished only to live in peace where nothing changes.”

“All changes now.”

“A new constancy will certainly prevail; be it good or evil.”

“Let us hope for the good.”

“Then you must do your part.”

“How? I cannot kill a Leviathan by myself!”

“Be on the plain at noon on the third day after the Full Moon and be ready to strike.”

“I do not have a blade.”

“The burial grounds of the Narwhal are close by. There you will find a harpoon; it will suffice.”

“Will I see him again?”

“Yes. Be cautioned Sven, he is changed.”

“Will he forgive me?”

“He already did.”

Chapter Fourteen – Parley

“What do they want?” asked Jeremiah, more afraid of them than the Leviathan.

“Announce thy intent!” commanded Prow, and a crack opened up in the floor of the channel where they were waiting.

The shapes moved until they were in plain sight and hailing distance. One of the Great Whites moved forward; the larger male, called Anig.

“Parley…”

“Do you speak for ‘good’ or for ‘evil’?” Prow demanded.

“We speak for ourselves. We always have, and neither god nor devil commands us.”

“What say you?”

“We seek a lasting peace. The Leviathan threatens all. We will aid you.”

“Did Drotha turn you down?” and there was a hint of accusation in the tone that spoke of long remembered and unhealed wounds amongst Prow’s kind.

“He is on his deathbed.”

“Say it is not a lie!”

“It is true.”

Prow shuddered, and from deep within the cavern of his mighty chest, he began to produce a binaural note. The frequencies were almost beyond the range of even merman ears. Jeremiah recognised the notes as the notes of the pulse of the navigation beacons. Prow was communicating with all his kind, and those closest related. The wave of sound warped the water and threatened to harm the sharks, who moved closer and under the wave; now in full sight of the trio beneath Prow.

“This changeling will broker the peace; he we trust.”

As bizarre as any of the sights and sounds that Jeremiah had experienced so far, none was as bizarre as holding parley talks with Great White sharks.

“I am not a god, Anig.”

“If you kill the Leviathan, all will listen to what you say.”

Jeremiah didn’t believe he would live or that anyone would listen to anything he said.

“If the kings will listen and I still have breath in my body, I will promote the cause of the sharks and do my utmost to see that it is honoured. If the realm of the sharks will press the enemy, and gives us the chance we need to deal the death blow, then I say we have a deal.”

“When sharks trade, they spill their blood.”

Here it was; the crux. Time literally stood still as Jeremiah and Anig searched each other’s eyes for any trace of double-dealing. Jeremiah moved forward and held out his hand.

“Draw my blood.”

Marcus could not move or breathe. He’d seen a merman cut in half by the jaws. Throne nudged him in the back.

“Now is the time for all to show their quality, Marcus. If you believed you swore oath to a man, then none worthier than he, will you ever meet.”

The shark, which could bite a man in half, flicked its tail and moved forward enough to close its jaws on Jeremiah’s hand. Jeremiah did not flinch. Steadfastly he kept the beast’s gaze and nodded very slowly. The shark closed its jaws, and it obviously cost it some considerable effort to keep them from snapping shut. Jeremiah felt the teeth touch his skin, and still he held the gaze. He felt the pricking, as if he’d snagged himself on the roses at the cottage. Four pricks and four drops of blood.

“Move back, Jeremiah. Four drops of blood is enough to trigger the frenzy.”

“Four drops; one each. I do not wish to see your blood spilled here. I wish to see the heart of the Leviathan stop beating, if it has a heart, do your part and I say we’re even.”

The shark held him in his unblinking eyes for several moments and then turned. Two or three powerful flicks of the tail and the four were gone. Jeremiah slumped, resting on his blade.

“Jeremiah,” called out Marcus.

“If they honour the trade, then I say we have won our advantage, and we should press it for all it’s worth.”

“That was well done, Jeremiah,” said Throne.

“That remains to be seen. I say, ‘let us do what we agreed to do’ and quickly!”

“Let us hope that the jaws of the Leviathan are as soft,” offered Prow.

“Out of the frying pan, into the fire.”

All roads led to the same place and time moved on. The ‘tick-tock’ of their fates grew louder in their ears. Prow navigated them to the eyrie from where they could see the plain, and from where they would launch their daring assault. They arrived perhaps an hour before the forces of both sides engaged. From their lofty vantage point they could see the ink black clouds of literally millions of creatures take up their positions. One cloud did not move.

“Is that the Leviathan?” asked Jeremiah, pointing to the shape that was easily ten times bigger than any ship afloat.

“That is the Leviathan,” answered Prow, the only one to have seen it before.

“It would fill the rift!” Jeremiah exclaimed.

“It is feeding and growing. If we wait much longer then there will be no power to equal it, let alone crush it.”

“Are we still agreed on the plan?” queried Marcus.

“We are agreed!” the others replied.

“What now?”

“We wait until the forces are drawn away. We cannot risk being caught in the fight,” Jeremiah reminded them.

They could do nothing but wait until the kings’ forces drew off the enemy and left the Leviathan assailable. Their hopes rested with the sharks to make the difference, because looking down from their perch, it was clear that the kings’ forces were out-numbered.

“I agree we cannot wait but, without Briscoe, we are severely hampered, and I estimate we are out-numbered by at least three-to-one,” Marcus gauged.

“If the sharks attack at the precise moment they are needed, it will be enough,” counselled Jeremiah, with his fingers crossed.

It was like looking down on a mammoth game of chess; three kings and their Knights; no Queens, but the princedoms of the Barracuda; the castles of walrus and seal, bishoprics of dolphin and whale and a billion pawns.

The hour came and the clouds began to drift. Jeremiah and Marcus closed their eyes and stopped their ears. The taste of blood was sickening enough.

Chapter Fifteen – The redemption of Sven

Picking his way through the bones felt like sacrilege. At any other time he would not have dared to tread within the hallowed grounds. At any other time he would have been impaled before he tried.

The Narwhal cemetery was a ghostly place. Lit only by the glow of his skin, he moved slowly, trying not to disturb the skeletons. The skulls with their single, and sometimes double, tusks reminded him of the spindly fingers of the old mermen and maids his mother made him visit as a child. Spindly fingers, growing out of arthritic knuckles, pointing accusingly at his tail.

He needed a tusk and there were thousands. He made up his mind to pick up the next one he happened across. As chance would have it, it was a double and abnormally long.

“Take it Sven, and get away from this place,” he urged himself.

He did not want to pick up the skull, but he could not free the tusks, and he did not want to break the tusks off in the cemetery. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around one of the tusks, near the base.

“Who are you?”

The voice made his heart stop and his blood freeze. He could not see the owner of the voice or gauge from where it had emanated.

“Who are you?” repeated the voice.

“Sven…a merman.”

“Why do you want a tusk?”

“To kill the Leviathan, and save my people.”

“A tusk is good for spearing flatfish, and jousting at the rutting time.”

“I need a spear.”

“You will need more than a spear.”

“The spear and the courage to use it; it’s all I have”

“If your courage holds, swim into the ‘eye’. The closer you get the less it sees. Pierce the pupil of the ‘eye’ and drive the spear deep into the socket. If you’re lucky and hit the nerve, the pain will cleave the beast’s brain in two, and blind it into the bargain.”

“Who are you? How do you know this?”

“There was a time when the Narwhal ruled the Northern Realm. Such riches we had. Telbat was our king. He had an avaricious heart and bred Narwhal with Orca to spawn an army to take over the Seas.

“Did he?”

“He created the Leviathan. He was present at the birth. Proud and happy he was until the infant emerged and as black as his heart was the infant’s was blacker and crueller. Fascinated he was by the baby’s appetite for the fouler things; he fed it and it grew. Fearful he became when the child demanded sacrifices and even the still beating hearts of the Orca slaves he killed to satiate the hunger were not enough.

“What happened in the end?”

“The Leviathan tricked the guard and escaped. Rapacious it became and threatened the Seas. Telbat saw his fault and lured the demon to the prison with promises of whale calves, fattened on the blood of men.”

“That was centuries ago.”

“Some remember.”

“Prow?”

“A spritely lad.”

“You?”

“How could a mother forget?!”

Sven was overcome with the smell of rotting flesh. Out of the dark loomed the head of the Orca Witch. The flesh was hanging in tatters from the skull like seaweed clinging to a rock. The lips had been eaten, or had rotted away, and the teeth were exposed, which made her look as if she had a perpetual smile. The eyes were ink black and alert; with a look so sharp it scratched his mind.

“Gods protect me!”

“They will not protect you. Take the double tusked skull. I’m sure Telbat will appreciate the chance of a reunion.”

Sven was quaking, and with hands that would barely answer his command he gripped the tusk and pulled it away from the sand.

“Go now!” the hag screamed.

Not for ten leagues did he stop or look back, certain the witch was on his tail. He halted and ate two pearls. Composed a little, he looked about and ascertained that he was above the Plain, on a ridge. He looked down and saw the shadow, uncertain as to what it was. He remained uncertain until he felt the edge of the search beam. It made his skin itch.

“That cannot be the Leviathan!” he exclaimed, “It is the size of the rift.”

Petrified but unable to shift his gaze, he surveyed the shadow; nothing plain was visible at this distance.

“It will not expect it. Maybe curiosity will overcome its hunger and give me a chance. The closer I get, the less it sees; that’s what she said.”

A movement, across the valley, just beneath the opposing ridge, grabbed his attention.

“What in the gods’ names are they doing?”

He could see Prow, Throne and two men; one obviously a merman from the movement of the tail and he guessed the other must be Jeremiah because of the lack of it. They were descending into the rift. Throne led and the men swam either side of him; Prow just behind.

“They surely do not intend to fight; how?”

Then the man he presumed was Jeremiah moved back, and with the blade of Poseidon he made a cut in Prow’s side. Having seen the blade he knew it to be Jeremiah. After making the cut, he, Jeremiah, the other merman and Throne disappeared into Prow’s mouth.

“The blood will alert the demon and it will focus its eye on them. What do they plan to do? If the beast is distracted, I might have a chance.”

Sven ate all the remaining pearls. Within seconds his skin was glowing like a beacon and the energy surge was euphoric. He flicked his tail and marvelled at his speed. He flew straight down and angled his descent so that he stayed out of the broad sweep of the eye until it was distracted. That moment came quickly enough and he could almost hear the beast chuckle at the sight of the lone grey whale, apparently injured, and falling slowly to the rift floor.

Perhaps it was mesmerised, but it didn’t notice Sven, and he descended unimpeded and drew closer; close enough to see the Leviathan for the first time. He almost thanked the Orca Witch for preparing him for the sight. The beast resembled Orca but the body was distended; bloated with the toxins it had feasted on for days. Weeping sores ran along its whole body, exuding a fetid pus.

The mouth was mutated, and where there had once been teeth, cruel barbed lances extended out like a rosette from a putrid bud in the centre of a grotesque mask of rotting decay.

Sven sped on and readied himself. He pressed the skull to his chest and crossed his arms over it. The tusks extended up either side of his head and tapered to their points seven feet above him. At the critical moment, Sven altered his course, using the edge of the beam to guide him to the eye; the single eye that sat forward on a protrusion in the middle of the beast’s forehead. At the last moment he planned to swerve into the beam and pierce the eye; beyond that he did not have a plan; beyond that he did not think he needed one.

Prow dropped to the floor but carefully and steadily angled himself to afford the best chance of entering the beast’s mouth, avoiding the barbs.

He was in the beam and having to concentrate on not puking up his guts and the passengers in his mouth. This had been the plan all along; a Trojan horse. Poseidon had told him the tale as a calf.

He was coming into range and sensed that the beast was angling its head up to receive him in its jaws. The flash of blue to his right was too quick to follow. It was ahead of him but the blood and entrails in the water clouded his vision and he mused he might have dreamt it. With timing that was unintentionally co-ordinated to the second, Sven swerved into the beam and three quick flicks of his tail brought the Narwhal’s tusks into contact with the glistening, black swirling pupil. Seconds later, the beast let out a scream that opened the scar of the rift anew. With its jaws wide open, Prow shot forward, belying his years and disappeared into the cavernous mouth. Hades it was not, though it was hard to tell.

Chapter Sixteen – The chamber of horrors

It was a tight squeeze but they managed to fit in the mouth of the old grey whale and settled for the journey. Their skins provided a little light. The grumbling from his stomach made them laugh nervously; he heard them and admonished them in jocular fashion.

The descent was only going to take a few minutes and then the plan, as far as it could be conceived, was to evacuate the whale’s mouth once they had passed into the beast’s gut.

“I cannot bring myself to imagine what we are going to find,” admitted Jeremiah.

“Hell,” Marcus replied stoically.

Once they were in the gut the task was to as much ‘damage’ as possible. Throne was convinced they could puncture the gut and get into the lungs and heart.

“We have one decent blade,” Jeremiah counselled them.

“And the horn,” Marcus reminded him, “Poseidon said that one blast would split stone. If we can split the heart, surely it won’t survive.”

“If it has a heart.”

“Else the brain,” offered Marcus.

“Let’s get inside first.”

The continued their descent and the rumblings from within Prow’s gut were getting worse.

“Please don’t be sick!” whispered Jeremiah to himself.

“Did you love him?”

Despite the question appearing to come out of the blue, Jeremiah was half expecting it. This was the time for honest questions and answers.

“I thought I did. He woke something up; feelings and yearnings that I had suppressed for years and years.”

“If you had declared your feelings for him, then things might have been different. For a fact, I would not have approached you at all.”

“I did declare my feelings for him, as he lay on his sick bed. I remember that I said that I thought I loved him and I hoped he would give me a chance to make him happy. I only thought that I loved him and he did not give me a chance to explain the things that happened at the ceremony.”

“If you’d had more time then maybe he would have listened and understood.”

“Sven doesn’t listen. These perceived slights make him deaf to reason and blind to the truth. That is not the kind of man that I wish to spend the rest of my life with, however short.”

“Prepare yourselves!” boomed Prow.

“And I am?”

“Yes…”

They were suddenly thrown back and sensed Prow was moving at great speed. Only by grabbing handfuls of his baleen did they stop themselves disappearing down his throat. The scream which accompanied the movement drowned out everything for a few seconds. Then the sounds from the outside were abruptly cut off and a whole cacophony of new ones replaced them. The sound grew stronger and Jeremiah could only liken it to a wailing, an anguished wailing.

“What in god’s name is that?”

Prow sped up again and then stopped abruptly, throwing them forward. Then he sped up again and stopped and after one final helter-skelter ride they came again to an abrupt stop.

“I can go no further. We are in the gullet, as far as I can tell.”

Throne moved forward.

“Get on!”

Jeremiah and Marcus had fashioned a halter which allowed them to hang on either side of the horse, like two saddle bags, albeit they were nearer his shoulders than his rump. They grabbed the harness and Prow opened his mouth as wide as possible. Throne flapped strongly to free them from the mouth of whale and into the pitch black void.

“Uncover the star!” he called out.

They had bound the star to Throne’s brow; now it proved its worth. Marcus threw back the flap of woven kelp that had hid it. The cavernous tunnel of the beast’s gullet was lit by the pale green light for fifty yards in all directions.

“We don’t have much time. Get ready, Jeremiah!”

Assessing their position as roughly dead centre of the vast canal, Throne moved to the side and Jeremiah had the blade ready. As they neared the wall he shrank back in fear. The entire surface was covered with the out-stretched hands and greedy mouths of all the demon’s victims. A gallery of hundreds of thousands of partly ingested souls that reached out to grab anything within their grasp and force the morsels into their mouths where they tore the thing apart and then puked up the remains.

“Gods protect us!’ Throne screamed.

Nearer the wall they got and some of the hands sensed the presence of something to eat and reached out desperately. Jeremiah hacked them off eliciting howls of pain and ancient curses. The hands became frantic as they snatched the limbs that fell.

“Thrust deeply, Jeremiah and make the cut.”

Jeremiah held the blade at a right angle to his body and Throne pressed up against the wall. The blade cut in and then their motion opened up a rent, spilling blood that drove the ravenous hordes crazy. Some of the hands tried to grab him but they found no purchased on the shark skin armour.

“Move away, Throne!” cried Jeremiah, “Go deeper. We must find the heart.”

Throne veered and flapped his wings with all his might and took them deeper into the canal. They were still in the oesophagus and heading towards the stomach. The pounding signalled that the heart was not too far away.

“I doubt we can cut deep enough,” shouted Marcus, hanging on for grim death for he had little else to do because he was on the outside of the horse’s body.

“What is that?” Jeremiah shouted back, pointing to a patch of the wall that looked diseased.

“An ulcer?”

“Throne, we’ll puncture through there. It will be weaker.”

The horse turned and dove straight at the pustulating sore. Jeremiah leaned as far forward as he could and held the blade out like a lancet. Marcus did the same on the other side. They hit the wall with all their eyes clamped shut. Their progress was arrested sharply and the tissues and muscles threatened to stop them completely and worse, immobilise them. Through the wall of the gullet they passed and almost immediately they punctured the aorta.

“Into the heart and I’ll blow the horn!” cried Jeremiah.

The flow of blood quickened their flight; three red devils hurtling towards the heart of the beast. A gigantic shuddering could be felt.

“Does it enter its death throes already?” questioned Marcus.

“Surely not yet.”

More shuddering and they sensed that the entire beast moved. The pounding of the heart was deafening, but Jeremiah did not need to be told what to do. He had the horn that Poseidon had given him, clutched in his fist, ready to blow.

Throne slowed and then speeded up to catch the timing of the opening of the massive valve. They flew into the chamber and between the beats there was a second of eerie silence. Jeremiah stole a glance at Marcus and then turned his head away from Throne’s neck. He quickly put the mouthpiece to his lips and blew hard.

Time and motion stopped dead in its tracks. The energy released defied all Natural Laws. Jeremiah swore it looked like a clenched fist being thrust out by an arm. When the knuckles of the fist hit the wall of the heart, time and motion restarted and the energy bolt obliterated the flesh and began to force its way out.

“Do not let go of the horn, Jeremiah, it will carry us out,” cried Throne.

The energy dragged them through the tunnel it created as it bored outwards. They were ejected through the outer wall of the chest, between the huge flippers.

“Drop the horn, Jeremiah. It will drag us to our deaths; we must re-surface!”

Now they saw what had caused the shuddering. The beast was slowly sinking into the rift. A wound had opened up and beneath them there was now a canyon, with a river of lava flowing along it. The beast’s flippers were jammed against the side of the canyon but its weight was dragging it down.

“We must get out from under it, Throne.” urged Jeremiah, but Throne knew what he had to do. He dropped twenty or thirty feet and then flapped to propel himself forward. The beast made some swift shuddering progress and Throne had to drop again and closer they got to the river of fire. All Marcus and Jeremiah could do was hold on and pray that Throne got ahead of the beast before it slipped any further.

“Get on my back, Marcus, and help me!” He ordered.

Marcus flipped into position and then started to flick his tail. They surged forward with the added impetus.

“Please let it be enough,” Jeremiah repeated over and over. Then he remembered, “the pearls!” he screamed, “The ones Poseidon gave us…”

Marcus had to slow down to risk taking a hand off Throne’s harness and reach for his pouch. He tugged the pouch free from the belt and thrust it into Jeremiah’s hand.

“Tip the pouch into my hand, Jeremiah!”

Still hurtling at speed, Jeremiah steadied himself and tipped the contents into the outstretched palm. Marcus grabbed the two pearls but lost the rest of the precious contents. In a blink he cupped his palm to his mouth and threw the pearls into his mouth. One swallow later he was powering them forward as if ten sea horses pulled them and the Devil was on their tails.

They pulled out and immediately Throne angled up and away. They could already feel the heat of the fire. Neither did they know what would happen when the beast hit the molten rock. Jeremiah looked back down and saw something.

“It’s Sven! Look; in the blow hole.”

Throne turned to get a better view. It was Sven but he was caught. The Narwhal tusks were criss-crossed and lodged in the side of the blow hole. He could not get passed them or break them.

“We cannot risk getting caught, Jeremiah. The beast slips more quickly now.”

“We can’t leave him to die!”

Throne took a second to manoeuvre and headed back.

“Hurry, Throne; please hurry.”

They were upon the head of the beast in ten heart beats and Jeremiah was calling out the whole time.

“Sven, we are coming!”

Jeremiah hurled himself at the opening to cut the tusks loose and free the merman.

“Sven!”

“Jeremiah.” And his voice was soft.

The body of beast dropped sharply.

“Jeremiah, go!”

“I can’t leave you.”

“You have to; I can’t free my tail. The beast is sucking me in. I can’t hold on much longer.”

“But…”

“Jeremiah, thank you…”

He disappeared and Jeremiah was struck rigid in his limbs with the shock.

“Jeremiah! We have to go,” screeched Throne.

But he could not move and could not believe Sven was gone. He felt a hand grasp his belt and then he was lifted away on a powerful upward thrusting motion. Marcus had hold of him in one hand and Throne’s harness in the other.

The beast slipped quickly away from them, as quickly as they ascended. Throne powered towards the surface, with Marcus hanging on to the harness, and Jeremiah suspended beneath him. Jeremiah just watched as the beast receded and got smaller. Then it happened. The beast hit the bottom and was partly submerged in the river of molten lava. It opened its jaws in its dying seconds and the river ran into its mouth and down its throat.

Throne knew what was going to happen next and he powered on and changed his angle to sail over the upper edge of the rift just as the first explosions detonated below. They were only thirty yards beyond the lip when the debris started to fly up behind them; rocks, giant pieces of the massive spars of the beast’s rib cage, hunks of charred flesh; all carried on a column of boiling water, blood, bile and the rotting faecal matter from its gargantuan bowel.

They sped on, away from the edge. The detonations and the shockwaves beat out the seconds, then the minutes and then the hours as they ploughed on. Eventually, Throne had to stop through near exhaustion.

“I cannot go on!”

He halted and floated down to the seabed. Marcus released his hold on the halter and gently lowered Jeremiah to the sandy bottom.

“Jeremiah…Jeremiah…”

There was no response; not even the flicker of an eyelid or the widening of a pupil as Marcus brought the star to illuminate his face.

“The shock was too great for him Marcus.”

“What do we do?”

“We have to find the brothers and form the healing circle.”

Only then did Marcus realise that they were alone. There was not a single living thing in any direction for league upon league.

“Where are they, Throne?”

Epilogue

Each month, as her bump grew bigger - and they said it was a boy because she was carrying her baby high and forward - she found it increasingly difficult to pick her way down over the tumble of rocks to the pool. She had to stop frequently now and catch her breath.

“Be careful, Elizabeth. I’m not sure it’s wise to go down there now. What if you fall?”

“I’ll be fine.”

It was the eighth Full Moon since she’d met Sven that day; not counting the one that had risen two days after they’d met. Each month she went to the pool to see if he was there. She waited for the tide to go out and come back. Nothing. In her heart of hearts she knew she would never see him again, but she had to be sure.

The day was fine; not too hot and the breeze was sweet off the water. It was the early afternoon and the sun was just passed its zenith and the rays danced in the water and she fancied the whole bay was host to a million diving kingfishers. She only saw the scintillating blue these days.

Huffing and puffing a little, she sat to rest just above the last jumble that led to the pools; hers in particular. Perhaps she had dozed for a minute or two; maybe not, but either way she had closed her eyes and she became aware of that when she was roused by a splash, least, she fancied it was a splash.

“Sven? SVEN?”

She hauled herself up and started to clamber down; moving quicker than was safe. Before she got to the pool she could see it was empty and admonished herself for her flight of fancy.

“Stupid girl! You know he isn’t coming back.”

The basket did not catch her attention straightaway. She was not expecting to see one and the woven kelp was pretty well camouflaged against the rocks. Then she saw it and she knew it wasn’t just a clump that had been brought in on the tide because she could see the weave of the cover that fitted snuggly over the top.

“What the cockleshells?”

She gingerly made her way down to the edge of the pool, knowing how slippery it was there. In the end, she was practically on her hands and knees, clambering over the boulders like a crab. The closer she got, the more excited she became, and the clearer the basket got. And it was definitely a basket with a cover and nothing like they made at the village for the transport of the lobsters to the market.

Finally, she made it to the flat stone by the pool where the basket was resting, and she rested too; breathing hard and sweating.

“If it is full of pearls then I know it was him. Who else would know? But if it is full of pearls, and it was him, why didn’t he stay?”

She reached out her hand to touch the basket and just caressed the slick surface for a moment. It was not like his skin; and save for the unborn child in her womb, the memory of the feeling of his skin was her most precious possession. She withdrew her hand and pressed her fingertips to her lips to taste the salt.

“Open it you silly girl.”

She reached out and dragged the basket nearer. It took two hands and a little effort to prise the lid off, which was very snug.

“Eggs?”

Her bonneted head was casting a shadow over the basket and masking the truth, that, in actual fact, the basket was full of pearls the size of chickens’ eggs. She pulled away to ease her aching back, and in so doing, allowed the sun to shine down on the contents.

“Them’s no eggs…they’s…SVEN!”

The Pallasite Star

Part Three of ‘The Awakening’

By

Alp Mortal

Text Copyright© 2014 Alp Mortal

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One – There was a time

Telbat’s eagerness to see the calf was only tempered by the core-freezing fear of what he had done, that, in pursuing this unholy path, he had created a demon.

“The Ruler of the Northern Realm should not be afraid,” he admonished himself.

Power was all that mattered; power to crush the enemy, subjugate the weak, accumulate wealth, to feel the rush of the release of his seed into the willing womb; the bittersweet taste of blood as a slave succumbed to his perverse pleasures.

Telbat, Ruler of the Northern Realm and creator of the Leviathan.

Deep within the ice caverns, his mate, Morgola, had given birth. An Orca virginal Princess, mated with Narwhal, an awesome union, only a Great White would have been better but there hadn’t been a trinket valuable enough to tempt that Princess. They will cower now.

The infant was big and its entry into this world had destroyed its mother’s womb. The infant feasted on its placenta whilst the mother looked on, haemorrhaging, smiling proudly.

“My son?”

“Thrives, Sire. His appetite is rapacious!”

“Keep him a little hungry. The mother?”

“Will never bear another offspring…”

“Take her to the cemetery, say a pray, and smash her skull.”

Telbat left for war-making conferences with his Orca allies, relishing the chance to announce the birth of the Leviathan, if only to see them quake in the presence of his supreme power; his position unassailable now.

oOo

“Jeremiah!”

He heard the word, his ‘name’, and it sounded like the small waves that lapped the shore by the cottage in the summer.

“Jeremiah!”

Arms lifted him from the cradle and he saw his mother’s face; she was speaking to him but all he heard was the pop of the bladderwort as it dried.

“Jeremiah!”

Her face transmuted into the face of the boy-Jeremiah. The boy reached out and placed a small hand either side of his face.

“It is time to lay it all to rest.”

An instant later, the star’s light obliterated everything; the star that had plunged into the ocean that night, the night of the Full Moon, the Changeling Moon; the night that Prow had danced in the moon light. The light receded a little and he sensed motion and realised he was racing through Space, beside the star, riding Throne, who’s heart was like the star and he saw it pulsing in his chest. They travelled very fast towards the blue orb that he did not know. Nor did he know the name of the man who looked out from the door of the cottage, gazing at the star as it descended through the Heavens. He knew the man’s face, especially now, as the man looked up in wonder and disbelief, amazement and joy.

Words formed in his chest but they wouldn’t rise and yet he needed to say them and the man was straining to hear the words, and he needed to hear them; his brow was knitted in deep concentration.

“Ma…Marc…Marcu…MARCUS!”

Within the space of one heartbeat, within one pulse of the star, he plunged into the ocean and it was warm. The water thus displaced rose like a geyser but instead of falling back to the surface it shattered like crystal, an ejaculation of fragmented light. Each shard pierced his skin and woke a nerve.

“MARCUS!”

Impaled by a billion needles, he sank into the abyss, which ate the light. Naked he was, falling slowly until, eventually, he landed on the smooth and soft sandy bed. His impact threw up a cloud of sand, in the facet of every grain of sand, a different memory was etched. Memories of the past; and memories of things he had not seen or done, yet.

The cloud of sand collapsed and condensed to the size of a pearl, which was now in front of his eyes, held between the thumb and forefinger of a hand that was not his.

“Jeremiah!”

The pearl moved closer to his mouth and he opened his lips to receive it. He sucked it in and swallowed, feeling the energy radiate out to the very tips of his hair. The euphoria brought a salve to his bruised soul and the billion souls that sailed passed on the tide, carried on the grief of someone who had died, that all had loved.

He opened his eyes and saw the blue sky above him, and the edge of the canopy of a tree. It seemed like centuries since he had seen a tree. The face of the man, who had been stood at the door of the cottage watching the star, came into view, and blocked out the tree.

“Welcome home, Jeremiah.”

“Marcus?”

In the background he heard a voice.

“Is he awake?”

“He is awake,” the man replied.

“Thank the gods.”

oOo

The baby was kicking strongly and she got out of bed; motion quietened the miracle in her womb, which she knew to be a boy. The sun was just up. A walk would calm him down until it was time. She dragged on a shift and plucked her shawl from the back of the chair.

Outside, the air was cool but warming. It fluttered against her cheek. Picking her way through the herb and vegetable garden she made the gate that opened on the path to the cliff.

“Today will be the day,” she spoke softly, to her miracle rather to herself.

And as if signalling his agreement, the baby flipped and took her breath away. She caught her breath and, with one hand laid upon her ‘bump’, she walked slowly to the cliff, which was not much of a cliff anymore, since the storm. The tide pools were still intact and she clambered down, very carefully, until she reached the pool where she had met Sven, nine months before, nine moons ago.

She trailed her fingers through the water; it was freezing cold and it made her shiver. The baby got excited.

“Shush, my precious barnacle, it’s almost time.”

Gulls squawked overhead in agreement.

“I’ll sit here a while…”

And with that, the contractions started. She found a spot, between two boulders, where she could support herself. She gathered some kelp to make a bed upon which to lay the infant when he emerged.

“Sven! Our baby is coming; he will be born this day. SVEN!”

Crouching, she pushed and it was agony. It reminded her of the three hammer blows she had felt in her womb when Sven had made love to her.

“SVEN! Help me…”

Her screams would have split eardrums had anyone been within earshot, but she was alone. The infant emerged by excruciating degrees and it took all her strength to remain in position, and all her concentration to breathe. In one final, gut wrenching and spine numbing ejection, the baby slipped out onto the bed of kelp. She lost her senses for a moment; dizzy, she had to close her eyes. When she felt some control return, she opened her eyes and looked down. Nothing on Earth could have prepared her for the sight.

oOo

Sven’s descent into the beast’s spout was arrested by the tusks of the Narwhal’s skull that he still held onto for dear life. They incised the flesh as the beast sucked him in.

It sensed its end. As it fell further and drew closer to the lava, its underbelly was ‘cooked’, the pain was intense but brief as the nerves were burned away and the flesh was cauterised. It opened its mouth to curse its father, and in that moment, the river of lava flowed in and drowned its screeches.

The maelstrom unleashed surpassed Poseidon’s Wrath in its terrifying power and destruction. But the Leviathan was, finally, dead.

Chapter Two – Questions

“Where are we? When are we?”

“Easy, Jeremiah, one question at a time, but first, drink this.”

“What is it?”

Marcus didn’t answer and held the cup to Jeremiah’s lips. Pearls dissolved in the oil of the kelp flower; black pearls from the Southern Reaches.

His paroxysm of ecstasy threatened to throw him back into the abyss, and he would have gone willingly!

“Holy shit!”

“Better?”

“Give me a moment…”

Jeremiah levered himself up and found himself on a gently sloping white sand beach. It was pleasantly warm, bordering on hot. The sun was nearly directly overhead and it looked like the tide was receding.

“Where are we?”

“The Southern Reaches, at least, on the border. This place is a resting stop.”

“How did we get here?”

“Throne-“

“Where is he?”

“In the water. He cannot survive out of the water for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“What about you?”

“I shall need to go back in soon, as will you.”

“Whose voice did I hear when I woke up?”

“Lorca’s…”

“Who is Lorca?”

“A Southern Reaches’ merman, a guard of the Portal to the South.”

Jeremiah’s head was swimming. If it felt like centuries since he had seen a tree, then it was millennia since he had breathed in actual air and had tasted the salt laden moisture on his lips.

“Tell me what happened Marcus…but first, kiss me, only then shall I truly believe that I’m alive, that you are real and this is not the eternal afterlife-“

A kiss was duly delivered, never more tenderly, never more ardently. The taste, a mixture of salt and pearl wine.

“I am alive, and you are real, but how are both possible? I do not want to recall the memories of the assault-“

“Then don’t. Know that it is over, at least that part. I shall tell you what happened from the moment that you passed into the abyss and Throne and I left the rift-“

“Oh my god!”

“What, Jeremiah?”

“Prow!”

“He did not survive the holocaust.”

Jeremiah knew in his heart that the old grey whale, who was something approaching five hundred years old, could not have survived. He recalled their first encounter, as he and Sven had journeyed to Atlantis; a barnacle encrusted, flesh and blood submarine with a voice like a Wurlitzer Organ!

“I shall miss him.”

“All will miss him, none will forget him.”

“I’m sorry. Please tell me what happened.”

“We narrowly escaped the destruction of the rift. Throne carried us to safety, but when we stopped we realised that the ocean was empty. Where there should have been the armies of the kings, what was left of them in any event, there was nothing, not a single cockleshell or a shrimp. I did not believe that they had all perished; it was inconceivable.”

Marcus took a second to compose himself, perhaps he, and he alone, remembered everything too clearly.

“We searched but found nothing. We debated if we shouldn’t go back to Atlantis. We needed to find the Guard, to perform the healing ceremony; it was all I could think of, had it not been for Throne, I would have thought you dead…”

“I rode with Throne, he has a star in his chest like the one we have.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“It was our star that brought you back in the end.”

“I met the boy-Jeremiah again. He said, ‘It is time to lay it all to rest’, I don’t know exactly what he meant, it has something to do with the star and Throne and immortality. I saw things that have not happened yet, but they were like cherished memories…”

“We decided against going to Atlantis. Throne recommended we head for the Southern Reaches. It is where many of the survivors would head, for recuperation, at least, that is what I supposed.”

“Have you met the survivors?”

“Yes, surprisingly, there are many but the reason for our scant losses is something yet to be fully understood. It goes back to the parley with the Great White princes and what was agreed.”

“I agreed to press their cause and work for a lasting peace.”

“They held up their side of the bargain. Their attack was decisive in breaking the enemy ranks.”

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I for one, do not wish to see conflict again in my life.”

“Many agree, but, the Rays are kingless, and other factions begin to emerge. The enemy knows that the Leviathan would have turned on them in the end, but, for now, they keep an uneasy peace, wondering where the power now lies.”

Jeremiah was thoughtful. These machinations in the human world were well versed, but here, in the ocean, shouldn’t it be easier. Drotha was dead, the Leviathan was slain; why couldn’t peace reign?

“I suppose much depends on the kings,” Jeremiah offered.

“Oh, certainly, and in Poseidon, there is a king, a god, that now sees no possible counter-claim to his authority, to hold dominion over everything in the ocean, as he once did.”

“He alone must see the error of trying to dominate. We destroyed one Leviathan; I do not wish to face another!”

“There are other questions to answer first, Jeremiah, and the very first, the small matter of holding you in my arms. Come, you need to see Throne.”

Jeremiah walked smartly to the edge of the water. Marcus propelled himself down into the surf, letting out a cry of relief.

“You stayed out too long,” admonished Jeremiah.

“How could you imagine that I would be parted from you for a second that wasn’t necessary?”

“I came back to you, Marcus. Not that I understood the choice, but you were waiting, at the cottage, watching the star descend. I do not think that the choice has yet been fully revealed to me, regardless of that, I need you.”

They cavorted in the shallows. For now, it was enough to be together and to touch, to kiss, not that their other needs were not pressing at the edges of their armour! Soon after entering the water, Throne appeared, trailing Lorca.

“Throne!”

“Jeremiah! You gave us another scare.”

“Let’s hope for no more. I saw you; we rode together through Space, beside the star that fell, and there was a star in your chest…”

“A fragment of ‘The Pallasite Star’, but it was more than a dream, Jeremiah. Things need to be discussed when we reach Briscoe’s Retreat.”

“When are we leaving?”

“In a few days. For now, rest and get strong.”

Jeremiah saw Lorca for the first time. He reminded him of Logan, slightly smaller than the average merman and darker skinned, still the pearlescent skin, but it glowed like amber in certain lights.

“I am Jeremiah and I am honoured to meet you,” Jeremiah stated very plainly, smiling and he offered his hand to the merman.

“I am Lorca, and I am honoured to meet you,” replied Lorca, extending his own hand and gripping Jeremiah’s very firmly, though at first the touch was a little tentative, as if Lorca was saying, “are you real?”

“I will be very happy to be reunited with Logan!”

“I believe he wants a certain blade returned to the armoury!”

“And with great joy, and greater relief, will I hand it back!”

But it felt to Jeremiah that something had not been said, that the blade, returned thus, would bring about something unexpected, and maybe unwelcome. Still, he could not dwell on all of that, he and Marcus needed to be by themselves. However, a question needed to be asked, which Jeremiah directed at Throne.

“Throne, how many days have passed since our escape from the rift?”

Jeremiah knew it had to be many days, especially as they were now on the border of the Southern Reaches.

“Tonight will see the third full moon since the Changeling Moon.”

“You jest! Three months!!”

“Don’t think of it in those terms, Jeremiah, though you don’t remember it yet, you and I travelled a great distance. When you ‘saw’ us beside the star, making our way home, we were at the very end of the longest journey. We all needed the time to recover, and there is much healing to come. You have no knowledge of the destruction wrought by the death of the Leviathan. Poseidon’s Wrath was a mere breeze compared to the devastation released. But, the Leviathan is gone, and that is cause for celebration. Rest, you will need your strength.”

Throne and Lorca left them in the lagoon. Marcus had moved off a little way whilst Throne had spoken to Jeremiah. Jeremiah swam up to him, from behind, enveloping Marcus in his arms.

“My armour is uncomfortable…”

Marcus smiled broadly and turned his head, to plant a kiss on Jeremiah’s cheek that was resting beside his own.

“Let me loosen those straps for you…”

Their previous bondings had been supercharged with so many different emotions, and tinged at the beginning, on Jeremiah’s part, with the recollection of the bonding with Sven, and the pain of that first time wasn’t easily forgotten. And, the tension of needing to bond with Marcus, to extend the gift of change which Sven’s bonding had imparted, had been present that first time, notwithstanding their inherent nervousness, being, as they were, on the threshold of making their declarations. Now, united, in the presence of Atlantis, who had performed the ceremony, things felt more relaxed, and the danger they faced then, was behind them now.

Marcus was a Northern Realm merman, physically imposing, despite his advanced years, muscular and, in other circumstances, intimidating. Jeremiah couldn’t imagine a safer place than wrapped in his arms. Without any need of encouragement, Marcus’ member emerged from the pouch into which it usually receded. The rock hard, smooth as the inside of a shell, appendage, throbbed with a long overdue release. Jeremiah grasped it with one hand and pushed his other into the empty pouch to find, and massage, the concealed scrotum. Marcus quivered and allowed himself to be pleasured, steadying himself by resting his hands on Jeremiah’s shoulders.

“Jeremiah…it has been too long,” Marcus groaned.

“Take me…”

Jeremiah turned and pushed himself back against the merman, feeling the member already pressing against his entrance.

“We did not prepare as we should…”

“I don’t care…I can’t wait…”

Marcus pushed slowly, drawing Jeremiah closer, arms encircling his lover’s chest. A moment of resistance was soon dispelled as the member penetrated Jeremiah’s guts. Rather than fighting the intrusion, his body welcomed it, needed the way to be re-opened; the muscles spasmed and unfurled, caressing the organ.

“There is fire in your belly, Jeremiah!”

“Forge a new blade, if I have to hand this one back!”

They swayed in the water on the gentle tide; tiny thrusts were magnified in to storms, maelstroms of fire, hurricanes of heat, a Tsunami of release.

“Marcus…please!”

The three hammer blows detonated in his stomach; three atomic flowers blooming within quick succession; a rolling boil of molten passion, swelling and crashing onto the beach. Jeremiah felt he was everywhere and nowhere, in one instant, a solid rock of granite, facing the centuries with grave stoicism, and in the next, a cloud of vapour born out of the ocean, his billion cells held within the flux of his desire for this merman. Possessed, consumed, he slumped and felt Marcus’ muscles flex to hold him tightly against his body. In dire need to feel the lips of his man pressed against his own, Marcus pulled back and turned Jeremiah within the cage of his arms, seeking out the mouth, which at first responded languidly, but the wick was re-ignited and Jeremiah’s own hardness pressed against him.

Jeremiah had always felt that the ludicrous difference in the size of their members would somehow diminish his efforts to pleasure Marcus as Marcus pleasured him. He was wrong. Marcus’ entrance was tight and highly sensitive. Jeremiah had never felt ‘harder’, a fact he put down to the diet of pearls. He wondered at his hardness, almost as if his penis was no longer part of him, something welded on later. He was harder now than ever; black pearls!

He probed and found the ring of muscle that at first seemed impenetrable. Then it grabbed him and ate his length, exerting an extreme pressure, but one he was equal to.

“Thrust, Jeremiah…delve into that place…” Marcus was straining to make a sound.

Jeremiah’s basic understanding of the anatomy of the merman recalled for him the presence of a gland that secreted a substance that kept the skin in condition. He probed and found the doughy mound. He kneaded it unrelentingly until Marcus ejaculated afresh, screaming his passion’s name as the ribbons of his seed floated away on the tide, satin ribbons of gossamer threads. They remind Jeremiah of spiders’ webs, caught on the breeze, silken threads with their tiny passengers hanging on to one end.

Jeremiah’s release was no less monumental than his new found hardness, perhaps not hammer blows; three sharp raps at the front door! The star burst in his loins and infused his skin with the green and blue iridescence of the kingfisher’s plumage.

“You are truly back!”

“I missed you, Marcus. I love you.”

“I love you, Jeremiah.”

The quartet reassembled for the full moon. Many creatures came to the surface to see the princess of the night sky ascend, but no whales danced. Lorca sang a traditional lament; it brought tears to their eyes. Jeremiah fancied he saw Prow rise like a ghostly cloud in the night sky; it wouldn’t have surprised him if it were true.

Jeremiah had one final question before they found a quiet resting place.

“Why did all the merfolk go south to Briscoe’s Retreat?”

“Largely to escape the devastation and pollution of the seas in the north; to recuperate and feast on black pearls; to celebrate the victory, together, which hasn’t happened for centuries…”

“I shall be pleased to see our friends again.”

“And they us, not least the Guard.”

“Why do I also feel un-nerved by the prospect at the same time?”

“There are deaths to mourn and decisions to be made, important decisions that will affect everyone.”

“For all his arrogance and recklessness, I will mourn Sven’s passing more deeply than any other.”

“Sven lives…”

Chapter Three – Telbat’s folly

“Capture more, don’t tell me the ocean is empty, else I’ll feed you to the Leviathan!”

Telbat’s humour was stretched to breaking point. The appetite of the Leviathan was rapacious, ceaseless and, with each meal, it grew. Telbat had already made the ice cavern large enough to hold a whale. His ‘son’ was quickly out-growing it. It feasted on anything they gave it; the still beating hearts of Orca calves, the pulsating brains of squid and octopi, the entrails of all the dead and dying Narwhal, even the scavenged bodies of mermen left in the cemetery of the Northern Realm, some still warm.

Nothing escaped it’s single, unblinking eye; a sink hole that ate light and men’s souls.

Telbat still relished the day he would unleash the beast on the middle and southern realms; an ocean going destroyer, his death emissary; oh to see the look on Poseidon’s face! Though he spoke to his ‘son’ of all his plans, it understood only ‘eat’ and ‘kill’.

His humour was particularly stretched at this time because of tidings, probably gossip, of strange sightings in the Narwhal cemetery, which had everyone spooked. A witch of the black arts was dwelling in the sacred place and no one would venture there anymore. For a supreme ruler he believed he had more than his fair share of woes! A servant announced that Prow was waiting for him.

“A peace envoy from the Old Man, or a spy from Atlantis?”

“Greetings, Telbat.”

The whale, a grey, youngish judging by the lack of barnacles, sang out the greeting as Telbat entered the great ice hall.

“Prow…”

“Our Lord Protector, Atlantis, hears worrying tales of a demon being bred in these caverns and demands your assurances that it isn’t true.”

The word, ‘true’, generated deep within the cavern of the whale’s chest, sent out waves into the chamber that rattled the ice chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Their ‘tinkling’, aping the sound of Narwhal tusks clashing with the long swords of the Northern Realm mermen.

“The brat demands what?”

Telbat held not one jot of respect for anyone, not even for the gods.

“Telbat, is it still ‘King’ or have you crowned yourself ‘Emperor’ now? Either way, Lord Protector asks the question and you are bound to answer; surely you haven’t forgotten the treaty that keeps Drotha’s sting at bay…”

“An idle threat, everyone knows Drotha can’t reach me here, the water is too cold, whereas the middle and southern waters would be a refreshing change for us!”

“Are the rumours true?”

Again the reverberations shook the cavern and shards of ice fell to the floor, shattering into a million crystals.

“Tell the brat that if he wants to know then he should venture here himself, but I know he has more sense, instead he sends you. Leave before I boil the blubber from your bones!”

Prow knew it was pointless to parley, and turned swiftly, flicking his tail to send ‘the oafish monarch’, as he referred to Telbat, spinning, who crashed into the wall of the hall, tusks embedded in the ice.

“Get me free!” Telbat screamed.

Prow’s booming laughter brought the chandeliers down onto the frantic, milling servants.

“What did you glean from your ‘encounter’, Prow?” asked Atlantis, Lord Protector.

“He would not confirm or deny it. I’m sure he’s afraid of it.”

“Go to Poseidon and Briscoe. Bring back the armies of the Middle Waters and Southern Reaches. Drotha and Anig must be made aware of the threat. I suggest the Barracuda Princesses will be beating a path to Telbat’s door. This ends only one way. Did you speak to Morgola?”

“Madness eats her up, but she will answer the call.”

Chapter Four – Erik

Gazing down on her baby, Elizabeth was brought to tears, such beauty did not exist, could not exist, she told herself, but the baby was there, at her feet. She could barely bring herself to touch him, it felt like some kind of sacrilege, despite the fact that he was of her womb.

She knelt down and reached out to touch the child. His perfect limbs were wrapped in rainbow coloured light. His skin was cool but the energy thrummed just beneath the surface. As soon as she touched him, he reached out and her instinct took over, gathering him up, she clutched him to her breast and pressed her lips to the top of his head.

“Oh, my precious barnacle, you are Heaven sent. How on Earth I explain away the tail I don’t know!”

Her tears of joy and ringing laughter, palpable relief and a mother’s pride, provided him with sufficient swaddling clothes.

“We should call him, ‘Erik’...”

“Sve-“

If her heart hadn’t been fit to burst, it probably would have stopped.

“Sve…SVEN!”

“I am here, Elizabeth, but don’t look at me. I am not as you remember. I do not want to give you any more shocks just yet.”

“What happened to you?”

“I was caught in the storm.”

“It was terrible.”

“Yes it was, but it’s over now.”

“We have a son.”

“So I can see.”

“His tail is a different colour to yours…”

“It will cause him no end of trouble!” Sven laughed.

“Let me see you…come, you have to hold him.”

“Close your eyes then.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and Sven leaped into the pool, swimming to her side, touching her hand that trailed the water.

“Don’t open them yet.”

“What happened?”

“I was burned by the fire that erupted from the seabed. Reach out your hand and I’ll guide it so you can feel the skin, it will lessen the shock.”

Elizabeth raised her hand and Sven gently guided it so that her fingers touched the side of his face.

“It’s feels different, sort of stretched and the energy is…weaker.”

“Don’t be afraid, Elizabeth. It will be a shock. Open your eyes.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes and immediately sought out Sven’s. How could he imagine that she would look anywhere else first?

“Hello…”

Elizabeth gasped, not in fear or horror, but at the beauty she beheld, though she would have sworn she hadn’t forgotten how beautiful he was, but the memory had faded a little. She smiled lovingly into his eyes.

“Hello…we have a son!”

Without taking her eyes from his, she handed the child to Sven, and only once he was looking at the baby, enrapt, did she allow herself to take in the rest. A bubble of sorrow and anguish rose within her stomach but burst when Sven looked back; nothing had changed, not really.

“His energy is strong!”

“I think he’s hungry. Does he want milk?”

“Try him. I brought some seed pearls too.”

Elizabeth took back the child and unlaced the front of her dress to expose her breast, which she offered the baby, who latched on and suckled greedily.

“I knew you would come…”

“There was a moment when the future was black and empty; all light had been extinguished. Then, a star appeared and it sank through the Heavens and I knew it would strike me, and I could not move. I raised my arms and welcomed it. It entered me and it healed me, it burns in my chest where my heart once was…”

“Will you stay?”

“If that is what you want, but, staying here could be difficult.”

“Where should we go?”

“South, to the warmer waters, where it is safer and we can be together.”

“Can we be together?”

“I can change you. You could live in the water. The baby can survive in and out of the water, but I can’t survive out for very long.”

“He needs to be in the water. What good is having a tail on land?”

“Not much…will you come?”

“Yes. Change me and we will go now.”

“What of your mother and your friends?”

“They won’t believe me…and what of Erik? We would have to hide.”

“Then come…”

Elizabeth passed the baby to Sven and then eased herself into the pool. She shivered, “It’s so cold!”

“Not for long.”

He let the baby go and the little one dived immediately and swam about like a tadpole. Sven helped Elizabeth out of her dress and in the process took her in his arms and for the first time in nine months they kissed.

“I missed you so much,” she cried.

“I missed you too. I brought the pearls like I promised, but I was afraid that if you saw me, you would reject me.”

“You are still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, well, maybe our baby has prettier eyes.”

“Do you want to change?”

“Yes…change me!”

Chapter Five – The Leviathan is abroad

“Sire, the prison guards were tricked and then slain…the Leviathan has escaped into the open wa-“

Telbat silenced the news bearer with one slash of his tusks.

“Now the game begins and I believe it’s your move, Poseidon!”

However, for all his bluster, he was rooted with fear; the Leviathan would not, ultimately, distinguish friend from foe, but for now, it was free and that made for interesting sport. A servant came into the hall.

“Sire…”

“What is it?”

“The armies of the merfolk have mustered at the Plain; your presence has been requested.”

Before he turned, the servant had disappeared.

“If they have to fight the Leviathan, they will severely weaken their forces, and that may give me the advantage. I shall have to be cool. MASTER OF ARMS!” he barked.

Within a minute, the master appeared.

“Sire?”

“Ready the army…”

“Yes, Sire.”

Telbat’s force was strong and an awesome sight. Legion upon legion of tusked Narwhal mustered in the waters outside the ice palace. This army had won, and kept, the Northern Realm a Narwhal realm, with a little help from the Orca. Telbat led them out, proud and fearless, but with each fathom he felt smaller and less sure of himself. The Orca hordes were conspicuously absent.

It wasn’t long before they encountered the taint in the water and many heaved up their guts.

“So that is where the Orca disappeared to…”

Without the Orca, things looked less certain but, the Leviathan was ahead of him. Perhaps he would arrive just in time to accept the pleas of the three kings, pleas of mercy.

“Deliver us from this evil, Great Telbat, and you shall reign supreme over the dominion of the seas.”

Is how he fancied it would go.

Avarice, arrogance and naivety make for poor shields in the end, and the end was coming.

Chapter Six – Sven lives?

“Sven lives!” exclaimed Jeremiah, barely able to believe the words.

“He lives, but he is injured, perhaps mortally-“

“But…how…how did he survive?”

“He was blown clear but was burned in the cauldron of destruction that followed the Leviathan’s demise. It might have been kinder had he died…”

“Then we must go and do what we can,” Jeremiah urged, although he wasn’t really thinking.

“Jeremiah, there is nothing we can do, except pray.”

“Better we do that at his side than here…THRONE!”

Throne was there in an instant, “hearing” the call before the word left Jeremiah’s lips.

“Throne, we must leave…”

Throne looked at Marcus and saw the pain and sadness there.

“Jeremiah-“

“We must leave!”

Save gathering their armour and weapons, they were ready to leave in minutes. Lorca stayed behind; it was his duty to man the portal to the Southern Reaches.

“I have sent a messenger fish, though you may out run it; let the path travelled be safe!”

Throne, with Jeremiah on his back, and Marcus behind him, so that he could use his tail, left with the utmost speed.

“How soon before we reach Briscoe’s Retreat, Throne?”

“At this pace, tomorrow at dawn…”

Jeremiah said nothing else; his thoughts were clear enough to see, not that it made it any easier for Marcus. His thoughts were like the lobster or the crab caught in the basket, seemingly there was no escape from them and they could not be set free. Even though he and Jeremiah were bound in a solemn union, in which they, like everyone else, had made their promises,  and in their own particular case, had exchanged a gold ring, he was now unsure of where exactly Jeremiah’s heart lay; would it always be Jeremiah’s destiny to save Sven?

They travelled in near silence, a brooding silence. Jeremiah urged them on and they abandoned two rest stops but after six hours they had to stop; Throne was exhausted he said.

“We rest for one hour,” he ordered, with no room for negotiation.

The black pearls gave them all the energy they needed; it wasn’t for that reason that Throne had called a halt.

“Speak to him, Marcus.”

“What do I say that doesn’t sound uncharitable, or, will possibly drive him to make a choice?”

“You are bound, he loves you, there is no ‘choice’ about that, but he needs to know how you feel.”

Throne left Marcus and Marcus inched over to Jeremiah, who was ready for the off and chomping on his ‘bit’ to get going again.

“Jeremiah-“

“I don’t know why Throne called a halt, we can rest aplenty when we get there-“

“Jeremiah, listen to me, please. I know how you feel about Sven, in some way, you are responsible for him, but know this, I love you, with all my heart. I am bound to you; we gave each other a ring; you gave me the star. I will never leave your side and I will always try to honour the gift; that being, the gift of your choosing me, over all others. But if you have chosen wrong, and it was Sven you really wanted to choose, then say so, and I will release you, though it will break my heart to do so…”

Jeremiah was more surprised than moved by the words; what was the reason for this declaration? Then he realised what a complete fool he’d been in ordering them to leave the instant he had found out that Sven lived. A fool, and an unfeeling one.

“Marcus…I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…I don’t love Sven, I love you-“

Were the only three words that Marcus needed to hear and with them, he grabbed Jeremiah’s hands and pulled him close, to expunge the cloud of doubt and hurt feelings. In the end, an hour wasn’t long enough!

Throne adjusted their pace so that they could speak of certain things.

“You haven’t met Briscoe, Jeremiah. He is addressed as ‘Briscoe, King of the Southern Reaches’, though he is less hooked on ceremony than his two brothers. He is quick witted and will take offense in the course of one minute, and clasp your hand and call you ‘brother’ in the next; very human I’d say. Our arrival will be heralded, and some welcome we shall receive; so be warned, you will be in demand!”

“We all slew the Leviathan, each one us played our part, and none of us could have done it alone…”

“Whether that is true or not, and Sven played his part, you are ‘Jeremiah’, the living myth. How did your poet say it?

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread,

For he on honey-dew hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise…”

“And there will be a great celebration,” interjected Marcus, “rarely do the three kingdoms unite, and rarer still with such reason to be joyful.”

“Is it truly over?” asked Jeremiah.

“Poseidon sees a chance to regain what he had lost. Atlantis holds the power and is stronger, but, alliances are fodder to kings. The Rays are leaderless, the Orca scuttle from one shadow to another, the Great Whites demand a treaty to bear witness to your promise…”

“Peace must surely reign…”

“To some, Jeremiah, peace is merely war without the conspicuous bloodshed.”

“I wish to find peace.”

“You alone can probably have it. I have no doubt that you can have exactly what your heart desires, so, be careful for what you wish for.”

“I have Marcus.”

“There is one thing you will be offered, in fact, you have it already, immortality.”

The word sounded strange, an inhuman word; men are mortal, even mermen die, eventually.

“Poseidon said I should have it, if I killed the Leviathan. I thought he was jesting.”

“He probably was, at the time. That was before the star emerged, and oh, how I gather that he wishes it had fallen at his feet.”

“I gave it to Marcus.”

“Which has interesting consequences.”

Jeremiah looked at Marcus, quizzically, hoping for some illumination.

“Does the star really confer immortality on the bearer, Throne?” Marcus asked on their joint behalf.

“The simple answer is ‘yes’, but, nothing is that straightforward. The boy-Jeremiah, had given the star to Jeremiah already, and, in the healing ceremony the protection of the light was shared with the Guard, and the sea horses. That protection kept the Guard safe, and will always keep those who received it, safe. That includes us three, by default. The star that fell, one might say, is a ‘trinket’, mere ‘Space dust’, but that was before Jeremiah and I made our journey-“

“What of the journey, Throne. I cannot remember it, except for the last stage when we were on the home straight.”

“You will have the memory of it when you accept the choice of immortality. Should you choose to become immortal, you will ‘remember’ the journey. If you don’t, you won’t.”

“How can I choose then?”

“Base the decision not on that, but on something far more down-to-Earth.”

“What?”

“You would live out your life, eternally, alone…”

Jeremiah knew Marcus was 150 years old; he might live to be 300. He, Jeremiah, was 40, and with the change that had taken place, he might expect to live to 150. So, for argument’s sake, they would die roughly at the same time. If he chose eternal life then, he’d have 150 years with Marcus, and an eternity of always waiting for friends and lovers to die.

“Was the journey important, Throne? If I choose to be mortal, what am I giving up, in reality?”

“Your chance to be a god, your place at their table, the chance to shape the world, to enforce peace on all the sea nations.”

“All worthy considerations, but I’m not a king or a god. I am a merhuman with a habit of getting into trouble…”

“As it stands, you can choose.”

“What of the star?”

“You gifted it to Marcus; it ‘belongs’ to him.  Its ‘protection’ has been shared; we all survived as a consequence…”

“You have a star for a heart,” Jeremiah remembered.

“Yes, I do. I was made from a star, at the very beginning. It gives me certain strengths and abilities…”

“Does that mean that you are immortal?”

“It doesn’t mean the same thing, but ‘yes’, though there will be a time when I may change and become something else.”

All this was becoming turgid and confusing; rather than illuminating the choice it simply muddied the waters. Marcus was holding onto Jeremiah and he squeezed a little bit harder, trying to provide some reassurance that everything would be managed. His thoughts echoed Jeremiah’s; he simply wanted to live out his life peacefully, with the ‘man’ he loved. They had performed their part and now it was time to find a home together, probably in the Southern Reaches, farm pearls and largely forget the rest.

“The Retreat is ahead, get ready,” announced Throne.

“Holy shit!”

Chapter Seven – Meet thy Maker

As they approached the Plain, Telbat felt a little nervous, “How will I control it? It is intelligent, but I need to communicate with it.”

No doubt a quirk of the mutation, but the Leviathan didn’t speak; at least, it hadn’t spoken so far.

The taint was getting stronger, signalling that they drew nearer, but the beast was not yet within plain sight. Telbat was eager to see how things stood on the Plain. The beast was unstoppable, its appetite was insatiable but it had no weaponry except for the cavernous mouth that could swallow a whale whole. Telbat didn’t understand the beast’s eye. The eye sat where the tusk would otherwise have been, if it had resembled a Narwhal more closely. When he’d gotten as close as he dare, he felt the eye suck the very life-force out of his soul. It was a seeing eye, but it appeared to connect with the very core of the evil bred into the beast.

Soon, it wasn’t just the taint that clouded the water, but blood. Telbat wagered that if the beast hadn’t infused the armies with paralyzing fear, they would have scattered, broken up, and maybe were attempting to inflict death through dealing the Leviathan many wounds. Sustained attacks from all sides would probably be the only way to kill it. Telbat called a halt before the Plain and he alone ventured further to see how things stood. His force had arrived from the north-west and was above the Plain. He swam forward, feeling the least certain of his position. If the beast turned, how would he stop it?

The Plain was in turmoil. The armies had broken up for their assault. From his vantage point, it looked like the beast was surrounded by a swarm of flies, buzzing round a clump of sickly sweet kelp. And from the size of the dots in the water, it wasn’t just merfolk attacking, there were the vestiges of the Orca, the Rays; “Ah, Drotha, at last!”

Many other creatures too, yet, sheer weight of numbers seemed to have little effect. The demon was consuming all, increasing in size and strength and the blows inflicted did less and less damage. Telbat judged the moment to be just right to make his entrance and tip the balance. He ordered the advance and his legions piled over the lip of the rift and descended to the Plain beneath.

Prow emerged, a grey ghost, to haunt his victory.

“I do not hear you laughing, Prow.”

“Stop it, Telbat. Within minutes it will be too big even for all our forces to have any impact. If you believed it would be like a third tusk, ready to do your bidding, think again, it hears no pleas, it simply kills and eats.”

“And if I do stop it, what then?”

“You will have saved yourself. Do you think it will spare the Narwhal? It didn’t spare the Orca.”

Telbat and his forces continued to descend, as they drew closer, Telbat could barely maintain his composure, he began to shake with fear, but, trying to save face before his own army and the three kings he whipped his tail to speed forward and confront the leaders.

“I will win something out if this, even if we have to kill the beast. I’ll breed another that is easier to control.”

“Telbat! What devilry have you unleashed?” boomed Atlantis, who was closest.

“Do you at last recognise my authority, Atlantis?”

“I recognise a fool, and a dangerous strategy that has gone wrong. Can you stop it?”

“Why should I?”

“It will destroy everything. Even if it spares the Narwhal, what will you eat?”

“STOP THIS PERVERSION OF NATURE!”

It was Poseidon, coming up with Throne.

“Ah, rattled your cage has it, Old Man?”

“If you can’t stop it, or won’t, I will kill you. Stop it, Telbat.”

Briscoe was rallying troops and leading attack after attack, barely keeping out of the jaws. Telbat had no choice but to commit his first legion, though he made it look like charity. The first wave of Narwhal attacked, driving their tusks into the side of the beast and thrashing madly to inflict terrible wounds. The blood of the Leviathan was black, thick and noxious; a choking mix that drove the Narwhal mad, which made them confused and many attacked each other, seeing the Leviathan in each other; hundreds died that way and the Leviathan ate them all and defecated the tusks, which landed on the seabed like so many grave markers.

Telbat was hard pressed to order the remainder of his force into the fray, many fled, preferring Court Martial than certain death.

“TELBAT!”

Poseidon was on the warpath and fixed on his target. His blade was drawn.

Telbat’s only hope was to lure the Leviathan back to the prison. He approached the front of the beast’s head and addressed the eye.

“My son, you are a credit to me, you have made me very proud. Our enemies are crushed and beg me to stop you. I say it would be better to press our advantage and annihilate them but a gentle hand is also useful. Treaties will win us more power. Come, it is time to return home and leave our ‘friends’ to weigh the cost of their impudence and decide how they will make amends.”

The Leviathan was clearly listening to Telbat, perhaps curious; perhaps recognising a kindred spirit.

“I have prepared the choicest meat, whale calf, fattened on the blood of men…”

The mere mention of the word was enough to trigger a response, a reaction, and Telbat saw it and knew he had hit on something.

“Come, let us go home. The blood of ‘men’ will satisfy you more than the piss and shit of these ‘oyster eaters’. I would speak to you in confidence about my plans to extend our sovereignty…and I must ask you to deal with another problem, ‘men’ have encroached into the fishing grounds and threaten the nurseries…”

The word was like a drug and the Leviathan began to turn, and to all intents and purposes, appeared to be following Telbat, who was growing more confident in his apparent ability to control the beast. A constant dialogue, liberally peppered with the word was enough to keep the Leviathan hooked and like an obedient slave it followed Telbat back towards the ice palace. For some time, Telbat could still hear Prow haranguing the kings for letting the opportunity slip through their fingers to rid the seas of the demon, and Telbat with it. But Telbat’s show had worked to convince them that he had power over the beast.

He ordered the waters around the prison to be laced with the blood of the remaining Orca slaves, and their bodies to be placed in the hold. In the end, he allowed the beast to push passed him as it sank into the cavern, temporarily intoxicated by the blood and the sight of the still beating hearts of the slaves, who’d had their tongues cut out.

With relief and satisfaction in equal measure, Telbat closed the gates and locked them.

“Telbat…”

He recognised the voice, the silky tones of Morgola, his mate, the mate he had ordered slain.

“Morgola…”

“Telbat, supreme master. Your victory makes my womb itch for your seed…” Morgola swam slowly into view, draped in her witch’s weeds.

“My dearest Morgola, I was told you hadn’t survived the birth.”

“Very much alive and ready to make another Leviathan, perhaps a daughter, think on the consequences of a breeding pair!”

Morgola had approached slowly and was rubbing herself along Telbat’s side, turning so that he could feel the distended lips of her womb rub against his flesh.

“Morgola,” he murmured, intoxicated by the audacity of his actions and the prospect of breeding with her. His arousal blinded him and the paroxysms of pleasure anaesthetised him to the first of the cuts. Only when he tasted Narwhal blood in the water did he force himself to regain some control. It was too late, she’d cut him, with an oyster shell, held in her mouth and wielded as expertly as a surgeon’s scalpel. The cut opened up and he gazed, transfixed, as his guts emerged. Morgola cut off his ‘piece’ and watched as he bled to death.

Chapter Eight – One of his gifts

“Where shall we go?”

“South, to the warm waters of the Tropics.”

“And I am changed?”

Sven had gathered her in his arms and, as gently as any lover, had taken her, impregnated her with the seed that would change her. The power of the seed that was one of Jeremiah’s gifts changed her to merhuman, permanently.

“You are changed. The gift is usually bestowed by one of the gods. I am not a god. The gift I have given to you, was given to me by someone very special, a man. His name is Jeremiah and he had saved my life three times. He gifted me life again, at no small cost to himself. I promised him I would honour the gift whereas, in the past, I shunned his love and called him ‘interloper’, ‘usurper’.”

“Will we meet him?”

“Perhaps.”

“Shall we go then?”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Sven reached out his hand and offered Elizabeth one of the black pearls he held in his palm, “take one and swallow it whole.”

She did as he instructed and felt the same surge that Jeremiah had felt that first time. Her skin glowed like an irradiated peach, swirling with creamy clouds. The baby emerged from foraging in the kelp beds.

“Come, we have many leagues to travel.”

The baby clung to Sven’s neck. Sven and Elizabeth swam out into the open water, hand-in-hand, gaining speed, then they dived.

Chapter Nine – Briscoe, King of the Southern Reaches

The home of the Middle Water merfolk was a dead coral reef and a cave. The home of the Northern Realm folk was an eerie mausoleum to a trillion dead bacteria that emitted an eternal light. Briscoe’s Retreat was Earthly Paradise by comparison; a vast lagoon, that was, in actuality, the flooded dead caldera of a long extinct volcano.

The water was warm and soothing, laden with minerals. The lip of the caldera was just above the level of the sea, high enough to provide some protection in times of storms. Four entrances had been created, each gated. The gates were forged from massive pieces of driftwood, highly polished, carved and inlaid with shells. The gates were at the north, south, east and west points of the compass. They approached from the north and the gate was open.

The gates were manned by guards that looked like Lorca, mermen of a slightly smaller stature, whose skin was dark, and in the case of these mermen, almost black. Their tails were golden.

“Hail, Throne!”

“Hail, Goustian…hail, Kapo…”

Throne slowed to a halt and Jeremiah and Marcus slid from his back and made their own welcomes.

“Come, brothers, there are many that have waited impatiently for your arrival. The messenger fish only arrived an hour ago!”

Jeremiah was actually shaking with nerves despite Marcus gripping his hand as tightly as he could. They passed through the gate into the lagoon that was as large as a sea and the clearest blue. Its surface was dead calm and reflected the edge of the caldera and the sky perfectly. Had it not been for the rock, sea and sky would have been one.

From high above the lagoon you could see a dark centre, the long dead, and blocked lava tube, five hundred feet beneath the surface of the water. From above, the lagoon looked like a huge blue eye, staring skyward, watching for something.

As soon as they entered the lagoon, the water began to boil as merfolk from all three realms headed to the surface to meet them. They emerged from the various halls and dwellings created in the submerged caldera, and exited the water like flying fish. The mood of celebration was soon upon the trio and nerves evaporated as comrade and brother literally threw themselves into their arms. There was no formality and no restraint, least, not until the kings arrived. Poseidon held back, but Atlantis and Briscoe greeted them as warmly as the rest. Finally, it was just Briscoe, with Jeremiah, whom he held by the shoulders, left bobbing in a vast circle of merfolk.

“Welcome, Jeremiah. The Southern Reaches and The Retreat are yours to call home and sanctuary for as long as you want them.”

“Hail, Briscoe, King of the Southern Reaches.”

“Briscoe will suffice…come, and Marcus, don’t think I’ve forgotten you!”

Marcus coloured up with the attention that he hated.

Before the celebrations began in earnest, Jeremiah approached Poseidon.

“Sire, your blade…”

Jeremiah handed Poseidon the blade, hilt first.

“Ah, another notch I see. Did she serve you well?”

“Well enough and it was well done, in the end, save the loss of a dear friend and comrade…”

“If we’d listened to him at the beginning, then all this would have been avoided.”

“I, for one, will work hard to honour the memory of his friendship and his bravery. Let us work harder to learn the lessons of our past mistakes; only a fool repeats them.”

Jeremiah’s words were well chosen, mostly by Throne.

“Wise words, Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah knew that Poseidon had plenty more to say, but now was not the time. And if he’d been quick to refer to Prow, his avoidance of Sven’s name spoke volumes.

For what felt like hours, they rejoiced. Jeremiah and the Guard took themselves off with the horses and shared all that needed to be shared. It also gave Jeremiah and Marcus a chance to speak to Kyle, who was joined by Logan.

“Jeremiah, I cannot express my thanks adequately. I think I was jesting when I said it would better to challenge our Lord Poseidon over the matter of the blade with the Leviathan dead at your feet…”

“I didn’t kill the Leviathan with my bare hands, Logan, nor alone. We all played our part. And I am grateful beyond words to be able to bring the blade back. War was won but peace will be harder to forge.”

“You hear right, but that is for the future; much will change now.”

“I’d like to see the Retreat. It is truly a paradise…”

Logan and Kyle escorted Marcus and Jeremiah on a tour of the Retreat. The sides of caldera, beneath the water, were scarred with fissures and caves, many had been adopted, and most had been covered in shells.

“Are these the shells that yield the black pearls?” asked Jeremiah.

“Yes, we’ll go to the beds later; they are outside the walls.”

The walls of the caldera were also home to vast plantations of rare and fragile coral, teeming with tropical fish in every colour under the rainbow.

“They call this place the ‘Horn of Plenty’ and ‘The Merfolk’s Larder’!” advised Logan.

They passed ledge after ledge piled high with shells, caves screened with curtains of kelp playing crib to schools of small fry and hundreds of baskets, suspended by bladders providing homes to thousands of crabs and lobsters, starfish and urchins.

“What is down there?” asked Jeremiah, pointing to the very base of the caldera and the dark place that flickered with a blood red light.

“The sick bay,” replied Kyle, “there is a chamber, heated by a hot spring.”

“I didn’t see Margaret at the gathering.”

“She is tending the worst injured, fortunately there are not many. Come! Let’s go to the oyster beds…”

They ascended. Try as hard as he could, Jeremiah couldn’t avoid glancing back, and Marcus saw it.

“We’ll go later, Jeremiah, but, prepare yourself for a shock.”

Jeremiah didn’t answer and quickly engaged Kyle in conversation about something else. They left the lagoon via the south gate and found the oyster beds that provided the black pearls. It was a hive of activity.

“With so many merfolk staying, and so much medicine needed, we risk exhausting the beds,” announced Logan.

“Tell me, is there no Master here in the South?” asked Jeremiah, though he remembered that Logan was a southern merman. There was a few seconds of awkward silence before Logan answered.

“He was killed in the battle, Jeremiah. His name was Ream.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Sixty merfolk lost their lives to the Leviathan. Countless other creatures sacrificed themselves to distract the demon whilst you crept in to the rift to deal the death blow.”

“I know; I saw their souls depart for the eternal garden…”

A billion souls lost. The healing would take generations.

“Quickly,’ urged Kyle, “the giant clams are opening!”

Clams the size of Jeremiah’s car; and how he laughed at that remembrance; were beginning to open.

“They rarely yield a pearl, but when they do, it is magnificent,” boasted Logan, though it was no boast, Jeremiah had seen them atop the gate posts; pearls the size of basketballs.

Merfolk working in the beds soothed the clams with caresses and songs learned at their mother’s knee.

“They are revered and respond to the kindness of the gardeners. Some swear they talk to them as they work.”

“They do,” pronounced Jeremiah, “I hear them…”

It was a product of the transformation and Jeremiah heard the voices of all creatures and understood them. His three comrades looked upon him with incredulity.

“This one has a pearl which it will gift to the healers to replenish the pharmacy…”

Jeremiah became aware of the others’ attention and the frozen looks on their faces.

“All want to bring about the healing…”

Throne’s arrival broke the spell.

“The kings desire counsel with you, Jeremiah, and you, Marcus, in fact, us three.”

Jeremiah knew it had to have something to do with the parley with the Great Whites.

As they approached the southern gate, Anig appeared out of nowhere.

“Jeremiah…”

“Anig, fare you well?”

“Well enough, our losses were slight. I lost two brothers…”

“I’m sorry for your loss. But we have rid the oceans of a great evil.”

“Have we?”

Chapter Ten – Chessmen

The mermen, Jeremiah, Throne and Anig made their way to Briscoe’s chambers. Kyle and Logan left them at the entrance.

“Good, you’re here too, Anig,” announced Atlantis.

“Jeremiah, you held parley with the Great Whites and our first task is to forge the treaty that will protect the safety of the Shark Nation,” proclaimed Briscoe.

“Merfolk do not hunt the shark. We seek agreements from the merfolk to provide resources to protect our borders from those who do.”

“That is what I promised, Anig, and the demand is just and without your assault we would not be sitting here-“

“Perhaps you don’t understand what you agreed to, Jeremiah.” It was Poseidon who’d cut him off. “The Shark Nation is a vast territory, and we are fewer now, with other commitments to honour.”

Jeremiah turned his eyes to the face, which, when he had first encountered the god, looked like crumbling stone. Not so now, there was vitality beneath the surface and fire burned in the eyes.

“Then the fewer will need to work harder, and, merfolk have many allies, old and new, it will perforce a new way, Sire.”

Tiny arcs of energy leapt from Poseidon’s skin, benignity had quickly become hostility, thinly veiled for the sake of appearances.

“No one denies the value of the contribution that the Shark Nation made, Jeremiah, but there are practicalities, a united nation of allies is almost impossible to manage-”

“Which is a matter of leadership.”

It was Jeremiah’s turn to cut him off.

Sensing the rising tension, Briscoe, not known for his diplomacy, called for refreshments.

“Who would, who could, lead such an alliance?” Briscoe posed, to no one in particular.

“It would need someone with neutrality, and a fair handed approach,” suggested Atlantis, not looking like he wanted the post for himself.

“The Dolphins…”

“The Dolphins, Throne?” queried Poseidon.

“Yes, Sire, they administered the treaty with Drotha in the past, only his devilry ruined what had become a productive union…”

Unwittingly, Throne had hit upon a word that had deep and painful connotations, for all. Indeed, had the devil’s union not been forged, none of the events, too keenly felt, would have happened. Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably.

“Then we should speak to the Dolphins. Where is the greatest threat?” he asked.

“The Rays are leaderless and the Barracudas see the main chance; they need to be neutralised,” offered Briscoe.

“Sounds like a diplomatic nightmare, but we shouldn’t shun it for that reason. An alliance, of all creatures, and that includes the Narwhal, Rays and Barracudas, needs to be hammered out, and soon…”

“Yes, Atlantis, but there is the small matter of ruined territories, destroyed homes and polluted crops. Who pays?” questioned Poseidon.

“All paid, and all will pay, their share. We are all culpable. Who was it who allowed the Leviathan to live the first time?”

“Surely you do not lay the fault at our feet, Throne?”

“No Poseidon, we are all culpable.”

It appeared to Marcus, and Jeremiah, that they played chess. A holding position was reached and the invitation to the Dolphins was sent. It satisfied Anig, who left but not before he gifted something to the three combatants.

“Men kill us for these,” he revealed three gigantic teeth, set in gold, on chains; “they are tokens which mark a warrior as both brave and worthy. On behalf of the Shark Nation, please accept these tokens and whilst you wear them, no shark will ever hurt you.”

He left before the three could frame coherent words of thanks.

“Never have the Great Whites gifted such things,” proclaimed Throne.

“They are well earned, as is rest. Go, and return in the morning for the audience with the Bishopric,” recommended Briscoe. It was clear that the three kings wanted the chance to parley themselves. Throne, Jeremiah and Marcus were happy to leave them to their posturing.

“Friends, I must see to things of my own. Rest, and think not too hard, but, remember the star, it holds the power. That said, your ignorance of it will serve you better, for the moment.”

Throne left and the lovers were suddenly alone.

“Take me to a quiet place, Marcus. I need you to hold me in your arms and hold all this at bay, at least until dawn.”

“If that was an order, it was the easiest I was ever given!”

“It was an order!”

Chapter Eleven – Lovers

Logan, taking the part of the Southern Master, had allocated them lodgings in a quiet place. A manmade cave, constructed from giant clamshells, ingeniously fixed to the wall of the caldera, screened by a curtain of highly polished smaller shells, suspended on chains, the links of which were made of shells, sliced so that their perfect spiral interior was revealed.

A shell filled with sponges promised a soft bed for the night.

They’d taken a glass bulb filled with the phosphorescent foam that collected at the base of the wall that separated the lagoon from the open sea. It glowed softly and brought small fry to investigate. Divested of weapons and armour, the couple just held each other, Jeremiah resting his head on Marcus’ shoulder, turned inward so that he could kiss Marcus’ neck when he felt the need.

“Oh, for this to be over, and to have peace at last.” Jeremiah murmured.

“What do you want to do, truthfully?”

“Find a place to be quiet for a while. I was always a solitary beast, but mermen aren’t. What about you?”

“I need peace too, but, I need my brothers, from time to time. We are members of the Brotherhood.”

“And the Guard…”

“I have a feeling we’ll be allowed to have, and do, exactly what we please.”

“For a few years, certainly, but ultimately, we are joined with the rest of them, with all creatures. I do not want to inure myself from all creation, but, I’m not wearing armour or carrying a weapon ever again. I’ll put my trust in Anig’s amulet.”

“And the light of the star…”

“The star…where is it?”

“Safe in my pouch-“

“Surely not!”

“Not that pouch you fool!”

A degree of playfulness descended with the weariness. They collapsed in the bed and held each other. Jeremiah trailed his fingertips over Marcus’ torso, whilst Marcus stroked Jeremiah’s cheek, allowing Jeremiah to kiss his fingertips from time to time. Neither was aroused, but it wouldn’t take much!

“Your nipples look like starfish…I never noticed that before,” confessed Jeremiah.

“Yours are like the shell we used as coin at one time.”

“Coin?”

“To barter, with men, but that practice was abandoned a hundred years ago or more. Our relations soured when they wanted to dissect us!”

“The age of science!”

“What happened to the age of reason?”

“What happened to your fingertips? Don’t stop…”

“Kiss me…”

Eels writhing in a hot tub of sweet liquor.

Marcus’ member emerged not long after and rose between them. Jeremiah knew he would never tire of the sight. It fascinated him, as much as it aroused him, and he slipped down to kiss the very end, the blunt end with the thick lipped slit.

“Push your tongue in, Jeremiah…”

Squeezing the end forced the lips to part a little more and that allowed Jeremiah to probe a little deeper! He stopped, not wishing to receive the thunderbolts in his mouth; he needed Marcus to invade him, as deeply as he ever had.

“Do you have some oil in your ‘pouch’?” Jeremiah chuckled.

“Need you ask? Spread it on with your hands.”

“I need you as deep as you can go…”

Jeremiah coated the member with the kelp oil and with slick fingers, probed Marcus’ entrance, heralding a pleasure to come. He turned his back to Marcus who gripped him at the waist and, savouring the anticipation of the moment when he drove in, he rubbed the blunt end over the entrance, feeling Jeremiah begin to contort with the pleasure.

“Are you ready for me?”

But before Jeremiah could answer, Marcus drove in and the affirmative reply was caught in Jeremiah’s throat. Marcus slid in slowly and steadily, sensing the rings of muscle relax one after the other, like gates opening, revealing the paradise beyond, the sacred place where the fruits, full to bursting with their ripeness, dripped.

“Marcus, deeper…please…”

Marcus arched his back and thrust forward until the mouth of Jeremiah’s entrance was literally kissing the ripe apples of his testicles.

“You have all of me,” he gasped, realising he was gripping Jeremiah’s hips so hard he was bruising the flesh.

Jeremiah was riding meteors that plunged into oceans, diving into whirlpools that took him down into boiling cauldrons of kelp oil that, when he plunged beneath their surface, burst into fields of stars, fledgling stars, which erupted from the proud chests of white horses with flaming red manes.

The three hammer blows brought him back into the moment. The three grenades obliterated his visions and replaced them with an intense light that burned away the harness with which, for years, he’d bound up his heart.

“MARCUS!”

Marcus released Jeremiah’s hips and snaked his arms around his lover’s chest, pulling Jeremiah in, crushing his own cheek against Jeremiah’s back. He wept. Jeremiah, for the first time, felt free of the restraints and he saw a slice of time, part of the journey with Throne; they were speeding over the surface of a red planet, an ethereal place, where the substance of it was time itself. Jeremiah ejaculated. Each ejection, a tremendous burst of energy, which twisted like a tortured ribbon, covering their bodies, to be absorbed, to form nebulae in the iridescence of their skin.

“Jeremiah, you give birth to stars, look…”

He opened his eyes to see the milky white stars float up and out of the lodge.

“You’re healing the ocean.”

“We heal, Marcus, together.”

But the process was exhausting and soon the two of them were curled up in the bed cot, face to face, limbs entwined, foreheads pressed gently together, communing their love in languages long since forgotten.

Chapter Twelve – The giving and receiving of gifts

“Jeremiah…Jeremiah…”

Yes, it was definitely a voice he could hear. Jeremiah slowly opened his eyes and looked towards the door curtain. Throne was there, but not as he remembered him, he was…’human’, least, human-like.

“Jeremiah, come…we need to see Sven, rather, you need to see Sven.”

“What of Marcus?” he asked in his head.

“He’ll be fine; he won’t wake up.”

Jeremiah eased himself out of the bed and his lover’s arms that were draped around his shoulders. Marcus murmured his name but didn’t wake up. Jeremiah launched himself towards the door and with one arm outstretched, parted the curtain, to exit the lodge, leaving a tinkling of bells in his wake as he followed the ‘Throne’ being.

“Are you still ‘Throne’?” Jeremiah asked tentatively.

“Ah, that name brings back such fond remembrances of my youth. Yes, I am still ‘Throne’, but you see me as I truly am.”

“Are you human?”

Throne laughed heartily, “No, I am not human, but I can’t easily explain what I am, and we don’t have time for another journey…”

“Would I ‘know’ you, if I remembered the journey?”

“Oh yes, of course. But you don’t have to decide yet. Be warned, Sven is not as you remember him, he is much ‘changed’, barely recognisable as merman, barely recognisable as a living thing.”

“How did he survive?”

“The Gods alone know, but he did. His life hangs by a thread and Margaret has done everything she can do. It’s up to us now.”

Jeremiah was afraid.

“Who found him?”

“Scavengers, gorging themselves on the charred remains of the Leviathan-“

“He looked like a piece of charred meat?”

Jeremiah felt the sick rise in his throat and tears clouded his vision. His heart was gripped in a fist so tight he couldn’t breathe.

“Jeremiah, do not dwell on that. Think of the love that you once felt, maybe still feel, for him. It’s a love that demands a heavy price, none heavier than now.”

They entered the chambers of the sick bay and Margaret stopped them immediately.

“Jeremiah, I am so pleased to see you.”

“And I, you, Margaret. What can I do?”

“I don’t know, it depends on many things. Come and see him first.”

Margaret held his hand and trailed him through two or three chambers to the last one, the one nearest the hot stove pipe that provided the heat and the minerals. The red light was intense but didn’t hurt his eyes. Sven was in a cot, filled with sponges, resting on his side. At least, Jeremiah assumed it was Sven, but he was just an outline, there were no discernible features, just a rough form, like someone was beginning to fashion a merman from clay. At first, Jeremiah thought that the red light was colouring Sven’s skin, then he realised that he was looking at the skin, the little that was left of it.

“Oh Jesus, I don’t…”

“Shush, Jeremiah, he can hear you, don’t get upset; he needs to stay calm.”

Jeremiah moved himself forward, allowing the tears to flow, but they did release his chest and huge breaths made him shake. He regained some control and found himself at the edge of the cot, looking down on the form of Sven, the merman that he’d saved from dying on the beach. Try as hard he could, he couldn’t rid himself of the memory of Mary barbequing steaks on his birthday; she was laughing and turning the meat on the grill.

“Sven, it’s Jeremiah…I’m here. I thought we’d lost you. I was lost for a while, but I came back and we have to do things, scary things and good things…and there’s to be an alliance of all creatures and the giant clam has a pearl for the pharmacy…”

He couldn’t carry on and just sobbed into his hands, with Margaret at one side and Throne at the other. Throne whispered something in his ear, “it’s time to decide, Jeremiah, but I think Marcus should be here. Does he still have the star?”

“Yes” squeaked Jeremiah, through his fingers.

Throne turned to Margaret, “Fetch Marcus, and make sure he brings the star.”

She left but returned almost immediately, “I’ve sent Christian, he’s quicker.”

“Good, let’s just wait for him and then decide what to do.”

oOo

The customary method of announcing that you stood outside of the door of a lodge gave Marcus a musical alarm call of sorts as the shells tinkled against each other.

“There is someone at the door, Jer-“

He realised he was alone.

“Who is it?”

“My name is Christian, a merman, an acolyte of Margaret. She bids you come to the sickbay as quickly as possible.”

“Is Jeremiah there?”

“The merhuman?”

“Yes.”

“He is there. Please come quickly!”

Marcus rose and swam out without ceremony save to grab his pouch. Christian was waiting for him just outside. The young merman, of southern origin, bowed.

“Forget all of that, lad, let’s go!”

They dived and swam at a swift pace to the sickbay chamber, the chamber heated and nourished by the hot spring. The red light intensified as they descended.

“What did Margaret say?”

“…’Fetch Marcus and make sure he brings the star’; those were her only words.”

“Did you see what happened?”

“No. I came on duty only moments ago.”

“Something tells me that this will be a day to remember!”

Christian was eyeing Marcus cautiously, studying the strange patterns in his skin.

“What are those patterns in your skin?”

“Star birth nebulae…”

The lad gasped, “Then you and he are the Star Healers!”

Marcus was unfamiliar with the term, or any story; no doubt a healer’s secret, one he was sure he was going to become intimately acquainted with very soon. They made the chamber and entered without pausing. There was a succession of chambers, descending to the one closest to the hot spring. Margaret met them at the entrance to the second chamber.

“Marcus, good, we need you. Did you bring the star?”

“Yes…but Margaret…”

“No time, Marcus, just do exactly what I say, and don’t worry about Jeremiah.”

“I woke up alone, and would have guessed he was here had Christian not told me.”

“Throne is here…”

“How the devil did he get in-“

“Hello, Marcus…”

“Oh, you’re…”

“In need of you and the star. Jeremiah is here, we have to decide what to do and Jeremiah-“

“Marcus!”

“Jeremiah!”

They embraced like lovers separated for a hundred years.

“I’m sorry, Throne said not to wake you. Sven is-“

“I know, Throne has provided an image. Fortunately we haven’t had breakfast yet!”

The quartet, with Christian trailing, went back to the healing chamber. Throne stood at the head of the bed, Margaret at the foot; Jeremiah on Sven’s right and Marcus on his left. Christian was by the door, certain he should probably leave.

“We will need you too, Christian. Come and stand by my side,” bid Throne, “join hands…”

Once the circle was complete, the red light lessened a little, losing the battle against the milky white of Throne, which spread along their arms until there was a circle of white, milky light stretching around the bed and the raw body of Sven, mercifully sedated.

“First we need to perform a healing bond, to lessen the pain that he feels. Be warned, you will feel the pain and take a share of it, not an equal share, Jeremiah and I will take the sea lion’s share.”

Jeremiah glanced at Throne and then at Marcus, who, like he, grimaced in anticipation.

The bond ceremony began and nothing happened at first, then the sensation of heat began to be felt. To begin with it wasn’t uncomfortable, but quickly it started to invade the senses, increasing steadily.

“Jeremiah, take it into the heart of the star,’ Throne ordered, calmly.

“Okay’ he gasped in return, barely able to concentrate until he saw the white road leading to the star fields and sensed Throne was guiding him. The heat lessened, fractionally, and then leapt in degrees; he could just keep pace with it. One step ahead of the wall of heat that threatened to engulf him and only by fixing his eyes on the Pallasite Star could he keep himself from stumbling. Someone cried out; it was Sven. Throne broke the circle.

“Enough, save your energies, he is free of the worst of the pain”

Jeremiah had to keep the star in the centre of thoughts to combat the pain and searing heat.

“Let the fire pass by you, Jeremiah, into the heart of the star.”

“It will burn me…”

“Let it pass.”

Jeremiah stole himself and relinquished his grip on the thought and allowed the fire to pass. It enrobed his body, but just for an instant and then it was gone. He’d closed his eyes; opening them, he was looking directly at Marcus, “I love you, Jeremiah”.

Jeremiah had hold Margaret’s hand and Christian’s; he raised them to his lips and kissed them; all felt the pressure and the energy of the love returned, “I love you too.”

“Marcus, bring out the Pallasite Star,” commanded Throne.

Marcus released his hands and plucked the fist-sized meteor from within his pouch.

“The Pallasite Star; only the second to reach here. The first was used to create me, and save for Poseidon, only Jeremiah has seen it burning in my chest, until now…”

Throne pulled back the folds of his ‘clothing’, but the flaps could have been wings or fabric. The star burned bright in his chest, instead of a heart.

“Marcus, you have the star, but Jeremiah has the power of it. Together, when joined, you bring the physical and the ethereal together and effect the healing that you saw last night.”

“You saw that?” exclaimed Jeremiah, feeling more embarrassed than he remembered for a long time.

“Everyone saw it and rejoiced!”

“Jesus!”

“You forget that we don’t share the same prejudices humans do, Jeremiah.”

“Do Marcus and I need to ‘join’ to bring about Sven’s healing?” he finally managed.

“Yes, but the amount of healing that Sven’s needs will take some of the power, permanently. How much will depend on how much he needs to recover fully, and how much you’re prepared to give. But, any that you give him, will rob you of immortality, and more than that, rob you of mortal years…”

“Mor-“

“Your life will be shortened, Jeremiah, though you will keep your gift of change bestowed upon you by Marcus.”

“Throne, Jeremiah has more mortal years than a normal human, doesn’t he?” queried Marcus.

“Yes, like Malachi, who lived to be 150 years old.”

“How many will I lose?”

“As many as Sven has now, 50, maybe less, the star is young and fulsome.”

“So, I’d live to be a hundred; fifty less than Marcus has left.”

Jeremiah stated the facts as plainly as he could; it was a simple choice, give up fifty years so that Sven would live, but have fifty less with Marcus. He looked searchingly into Marcus’ eyes, hoping to see the answer, the decision, the reassurance.

“All other things being equal, Jeremiah; no one has a guaranteed lifespan,” counselled Throne.

“No, I know. Sven has none without this. I love Mar-“

“Jeremiah, there is no choice, you have to give Sven his life, otherwise all will have been pointless. Prow died for the cause, sixty mermen also perished, a billion sea creatures sacrificed themselves for the chance to rid the seas of the beast…”

Jeremiah had a cruel thought, that one more wouldn’t make any difference, but he wasn’t a cruel man. He recalled the faces of the children killed at Giselle’s party in the storm, robbed of their whole lives, but he couldn’t bring himself to blame Sven. Holding Poseidon responsible for the deaths was a different matter, but that just caused him more anguish, gods saw things in dissimilar ways.

“I need to speak to Marcus, alone.”

Margaret, Christian and Throne left the chamber.

The men were still facing each other, across Sven’s sick-bed.

“Marcus…I…”

Marcus moved round to him and Jeremiah turned to embrace him, crushing Marcus to his body for dear life.

“Jeremiah, we have to do this, I would choose to do it, if our roles were reversed. I know what it means, and I’ve been alone for too long, and the prospect of being alone, in the years when you hope to have the love of your life by your side, well, I don’t want to think about that. But I couldn’t live with myself if I knew that I’d let Sven die.”

Jeremiah pulled back and placed his hands either side of Marcus’ face.

“I love you. I’m so sorry it has to be this way.”

“It isn’t your choice, Jeremiah. Sven sacrificed himself to wound the Leviathan, and I suspect gain some redemption for his past acts. He deserves his chance to find his proper place in the world, and we, you, have to allow it. We’ll make the most of our time together, I promise, and I’ll never let anything hurt you…we’ll heal the oceans and be grateful for the gifts we have-“

“Will we still be healers?”

“I don’t know, but even if we can’t create stars, there are other ways.”

They called back the others and asked the question.

“I can’t answer that question, Jeremiah; it will depend on what is left at the end. Have you made a decision then?”

Jeremiah looked once more at Marcus, who smiled and nodded.

“Yes.”

“Then there is no delay-“

“But, Throne, we need to join…”

“Margaret and Christian do not need to be here, but I have to be here to guide the healing, else the stars will go the same way as those you created last night.”

“Jeremiah, I will go to Jocelyn and tell her the news.”

“Thank you, Margaret.”

“Christian, would you do me a favour? Go and tell Poseidon and the rest that Marcus and I will not be at the meeting with the Bishopric.”

“And if he asks why?”

“Tell him we are with Sven; that is all he needs to know.”

Margaret and Christian left after sharing embraces with them.

“Throne, I can barely think about joining…”

“I can change my appearance a little, if it helps.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Jeremiah was almost at the point of laughing out loud when Throne changed to resemble Marcus, as a young man, in the full bloom of his youth.

“Marcus, it’s you!”

Marcus was transfixed; it had been many, many years since he’d seen that face staring back at him.

Throne came forward to grasp their hands.

“It’s the best I can do! My memory is a little hazy on specific points,” Throne chuckled. His light-heartedness broke something, a restraint. Join, knowing you do it to save a life, to give life, to create a man from this raw flesh…”

Marcus dropped Throne’s hand and laid his on Jeremiah’s chest, over his heart, “I love you, and I need you…”

They joined and it was different, heightened, intensified and amplified. Neither was aware of Throne in the end. When Jeremiah ejaculated, the milk white stars swarmed from the centres of the swirls in his skin, into Thrones hands, who cast them over Sven, not touching him at first, then, as the skin healed, he spread the stars over the merman’s body. They were quickly absorbed at the beginning, and then more slowly, as recognisable features began to appear.

“Jeremiah, you reach the point of no return, much more and you will lose everything. Slow the process down and gently stop it,” cautioned Throne.

Jeremiah could feel the star die within his chest, shrinking, dimming and pulsing more slowly. At the crucial point, he felt the pressure of Marcus’ hands on his hips, and he was reminded of who he loved. He stopped the process until just a little speck of the star remained, the size of a solitaire diamond, like the one Bastion had given Mary at their betrothal. It had cost him a month’s pay, but he had no money left for his rent and food. Jeremiah gave him the money with a hug and a hearty slap on the back.

Marcus and Jeremiah ‘decoupled’ as elegantly as possible, whilst Throne busied himself with finding some special oil on the shelf in the next chamber.

“Marcus, I love you…”

“I more than love you, Jeremiah. I never knew a finer or a more courageous man or merman…”

“Stop…I did what anyone would do. That said, I have saved his life four times now, do you think I might get some credit for that?”

Before Marcus could answer, Sven groaned and moved on the bed, as if he was waking up from the deepest sleep.

“Jeremiah?”

“Yes, Sven, I’m here, with Marcus and Throne. You’re going to be okay.”

Whilst Sven gathered his senses, the couple looked down to see the extent of the recovery. It was Sven, without doubt, perhaps thinner and paler, less shiny and there were patches where the healing was barely applied, but he was alive and whole. Throne returned.

“Lay quietly, Sven, and sip this.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Ereo, a healer.”

The highly concentrated black pearl concoction had the obvious effect and some luminosity returned to Sven’s skin and his hair started to regrow.

The trio left the patient to fully wake up.

“So?” Marcus asked; it was the obvious question.

Throne, now Ereo, placed his hands on Jeremiah, one on his chest above his heart and the other on his forehead. Like a circuit had been made, Jeremiah was transported back to the memory of the journey, on Throne’s back, riding beside the Pallasite Star. They were in the ice rings of a large planet, maybe it was Saturn. The ice glittered as the star forged passed the fragments. In every glint Jeremiah saw a different path that his life could have taken, the junctions of his choices and decisions. One path looked different and he strained to see its end and in that moment he found himself back in the lodge with Marcus. He gasped.

“Jesus!”

“Welcome back.”

“How long was I gone this time?”

“An hour.”

“I’m improving!”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m fine…so, what happened?”

“Nothing untoward, we brought you back here and Throne, Ereo, left to find Margaret and Jocelyn to give them the news.”

“Did he say? Does he know how much is left?”

“He said something about the ice fields, and that meant that you had given up sixty years of your mortal life.”

“Ninety, fifty left…”

“Maybe more-“

“Can we still heal?”

“He suggested we practise!”

Jeremiah remained silent for a moment, and reflected on the choice, that had been no choice, and the price he’d paid, they’d paid.

“Marc-“

“Shush, don’t say it. Our life starts now, without all the distractions. We could have died in the Leviathan, and we should count ourselves lucky that we didn’t. You’ll be living on black pearls from now on!”

“If you catch me napping, pinch me; I don’t want to waste a second.”

“Poseidon wishes to see you.”

“Does he…I assumed he would. Shall we then?”

“Alone, Jeremiah. I’ll wait here, and when you get back, we’ll decide where we’re going.”

Jeremiah left and headed to Briscoe’s chambers, expecting to find the three kings still arguing the toss over the treaties. He didn’t care for that anymore. Only Marcus mattered and finding a place where they could live out their lives in peace. He found Poseidon alone in the conference chamber, looking more like the stone effigy of himself that Jeremiah was more familiar with, somewhat happier with.

“Sire…”

“Ah, Jeremiah, you’ve recovered…good.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be here for the conference.”

“No one would have blamed you for abandoning him, Jeremiah.”

“How would I have lived with myself? What good was immortality to me anyway, I didn’t want to live for eternity alone or simply count down the years until a lover passed away.”

“There would have been other gifts, Jeremiah, other journeys you could have made-“

“I have Marcus; he’s enough, even though I’ll die long before him. We’ll do what healing we can and let others worry about Bishops and Barracudas…”

“Was Sven worth your place at the table?”

“He is worth it. It’s a pity you don’t think so. He’ll live up to his namesake, of that I’m sure. You’ll be remembered as the ‘god’ who sacrificed the children at Giselle’s party for the sake of a kinder word and a guiding hand. Goodbye.”

Epilogue

“Jeremiah, wake up!”

“Shit! I dozed off again.”

“Just like a catfish!”

“I’m reaching-“

“Then we have no time to waste. Drink your wine, it’ll help.”

Jeremiah was feeling more tired every day and every night he dreamt of the same path, the shaded path, the one he’d seen in the ice crystal, the path with the gate at the end.

There came the night when he felt unable to resist the call of the path and he turned onto it. He felt better when he had, more certain of his feet. He wandered down; feeling comforted by the high hedges each side; shoulders to lean on. The gate was like the one at the cottage, within a pointed archway. He reached forward and pushed, it yielded easily and swung open on silent hinges. He was back at the cottage, on the beach.

“Jeremiah…”

He couldn’t see the owner of the voice, and it was a child’s voice.

“Where are you?”

“In the water, under the reef.”

“I can’t swim. We don’t learn to, it’s superstition…”

“Don’t worry, you won’t drown.”

Jeremiah strode into the water quickly, to combat the sudden chill. He pushed himself further out until the waves lapped his chin, then the seabed gave way under his feet and he sank. He panicked when he felt his lungs trying to burst and he exhaled, then realised he could breathe.

The reef wasn’t far off, and he swam confidently until he reached it, there was a dark opening underneath the overhanging bit. It was a tight squeeze but he managed to get through the gap and found himself in a little cave. In the middle of the floor of the cave was a pool and beside the pool, a boy, of about nine.

“Hello,” Jeremiah ventured, for the boy hadn’t turned when he’d scrambled in.

“Hello, Jeremiah,” the boy replied, now turning, “come closer…”

Jeremiah moved on his hands and knees to avoid banging his head on the roof of the cave. As he approached, he could see the pool was lit by something.

“What’s your name…and how do you know mine?” Jeremiah asked.

The boy didn’t answer; instead he put his hand in the pool and picked something up. He withdrew his hand and held his palm out towards Jeremiah.

“It’s a star!”

“My gift…but don’t tell, it’s the last one…”

Then Jeremiah remembered something Marcus had said about three stars, ‘the Heart, Body and Soul of Jeremiah’.

“Then this is your-“

“Shush…”

Table of Contents

Chapter One – Poseidon’s Wrath

Chapter Two – Sven’s transgression

Chapter Three – Rescued

Chapter Four – Questions

Chapter Five – The story of Trillion and Sven the Elder

Chapter Six – Aftermath

Chapter Seven – Consequences and decisions

Chapter Eight – Farewell

Chapter Nine – Journey to the cave of the merpeople

Chapter Ten – Not the reception that was expected

Chapter Eleven – Captive

Chapter Twelve – Ransom

Chapter Thirteen – Drotha

Chapter Fourteen – Exchange

Chapter Fifteen – Departure

Chapter Sixteen – The Blade

Chapter Seventeen – Strange companions

Chapter Eighteen – The Gates of Sven and the Northern Realm

Chapter Nineteen – The audience with Atlantis

Chapter One – The Sea Horses

Chapter Two – The Riders

Chapter Three – The Orca and the Ice Prison

Chapter Four – Flight back to Atlantis

Chapter Five – A night and a day

Chapter Six – The Awakening

Chapter Seven – What has happened to me?

Chapter Eight – The Changeling’s Moon

Chapter Nine – Sven the Younger

Chapter Ten – Whale Dance

Chapter Eleven – ‘Honour your gifts’

Chapter Twelve – To the Plain of Ur

Chapter Thirteen – Sven’s Progress

Chapter Fourteen – Parley

Chapter Fifteen – The redemption of Sven

Chapter Sixteen – The chamber of horrors

Epilogue

Chapter One – There was a time

Chapter Two – Questions

Chapter Three – Telbat’s folly

Chapter Four – Erik

Chapter Five – The Leviathan is abroad

Chapter Six – Sven lives?

Chapter Seven – Meet thy Maker

Chapter Eight – One of his gifts

Chapter Nine – Briscoe, King of the Southern Reaches

Chapter Ten – Chessmen

Chapter Eleven – Lovers

Chapter Twelve – The giving and receiving of gifts

Epilogue