She woke up on the beach, cold and wet, but well above the tide line. There was another bag of pearls in her pocket.

Sid the social worker considered the circumstances both of the anniversary and all of Sara’s exemplary behavior prior to the joy ride, so he never reported the car stolen or pressed charges, although he did talk her into a few extra counseling sessions for a month or two.

The letter to the scholarship office was too late for the deadline however, and no amount of pleading on the part of Sid, Sara or her teachers could change that. The secretary there promised to put Sara’s name on the consideration list for the next semester.

One of Sara’s roommates disappeared a week later, only to be found as a corpse along Highway 101. Police concluded she’d been killed in a disagreement over stolen goods.

Thetus looked at the Formulae again, out of habit. He’d studied the tablet so often that he had it memorized, each ancient letter carved into the stone and stained with ash. So far, he’d managed to collect the Nautilus’s ichor, the black coral root and the fermented river silt. All that was left to gather were a few ounces of stone fish venom and of course, a green pearl. Crushed, it would be activate the other ingredients currently mingling together in the stone urn Thetus had salvaged from a Spanish wreck not far from the oyster bed.

He worried. Unwittingly Sara had planted a seed of doubt, but Thetus tried to hold disbelief at bay, mentally countering it with all he’d seen and done in his short life. With Maenae he’d turned fish different colors, and tamed turtles. He and Algaernon had helped grow a new tail on a wounded merchild. He’d watched his elders catch lightning in glass to light the darkness, and seen drowned men talk, their white lips revealing last secrets.

There was magic; it DID exist under the waves. Sara would learn it one way or another—she would have to, if she chose his world.

Thetus watched as a single inquiring tentacle curled over the top of the tablet. Jack was nearly full grown now, a strong and graceful male with bold curiosity, and Thetus knew it was nearly time to let him go and find a mate. The needs of nature could be put off for only so long—it had been that way with Brie, and now with Jack. He looked at the octopus, and the creature shifted his limb, reaching out to touch Thetus’s nose.

He smiled, and projected a few affectionate thoughts towards the animal, who curled his tentacles happily in response. Then Thetus projected a few images of other octopi, and a quiet urging towards them. For a moment, Jack didn’t move, and then hesitantly he slid down off the tablet and along part of the sea floor, towards the clutter of shells and coral bits that made up his garden.

Jack would be all right, Thetus knew, and wished it would be the same for Sara. She understood that he’d be gone for the next month, possibly two—he hadn’t made the trip to the Sanctuary by himself before, so he wasn’t sure how long it would actually take, even if he caught the right currents.

All Thetus DID know was that he had to go. He had to try—even if it meant breaking his Banishment to do so.

After a last glance at Jack, Thetus carefully buried the tablet next to the coral-covered anchor that marked the edge of the oyster bed and made a swift ascent. He broke the surface and looked around; a trawler was about a mile off towards the north, but other than that, the sea was empty in the dawn light.

With deliberation, Thetus turned to the southwest and dove, swimming strongly.

Afterwards she wondered about it; the sheer chance of the moment, unexpected and almost passed by, one of those few ticks in time that clicks all the pieces of the universe together.

Sid had talked her into going to a job interview at The Crab Pot down along the other side of Lawson’s Landing. The pay for a dishwasher wouldn’t be much, but the restaurant was near the water, and the work was steady, if boring. Sara had gotten the gig after a perfunctory exchange with the harried cook and owner, who threw an apron and a pair of green rubber gloves at her after getting her application.

It wasn’t much, and Sara knew she could make much more money at other work, but most of those required a car, or a better wardrobe than her usual jeans, tee shirt and down vest ensemble. The Crab Pot was within biking distance, and the waiters tipped out, so there was enough to get by.

She kept to herself, moving efficiently and doing the work at a steady pace, which meant most of the staff got along with her. Once or twice, she’d even been invited out to the back stoop with a few folks for a smoke or a hit, particularly after the eight o’clock dinner rush.

She declined—smoking would lead to talking, and too much talking would mean the story about the Inn getting out. Sara was pretty sure the owner knew her history, but he hadn’t said anything and she wanted to keep it that way.

It was already hard enough at school and in the group home, being known as The Girl with a Crazy Murderess Mother.

The Crab Pot was close enough to the water so that when it closed down after midnight; Sara would go down to the rocky cove and drop a hand into the water. She knew Thetus couldn’t come—he was off on a long trip to somewhere in the South Seas—but still it was nice to have a sense of him flowing along the water to her in little echoes.

She missed Thetus; more than she wanted to admit. The only coping strategy she let herself use was more work, so when she got in to the Crab Pot early one night, the cook taught her how to shuck oysters and lay them out on the big bed of ice in the display case by the front door. Sara was good with the wooden handled knife, and picked up the knack quickly, prying and popping open the oysters under his watchful eyes.

“Good. Now slide the blade under to cut the muscle on the bottom so the whole thing will slide free. And don’t forget to look for pearls—sometimes you find one.”

“Really?” Sara asked, looking surprised. The cook shrugged, his grin revealing a missing incisor tooth.

“Don’t get your hopes up, honey. The ones we get are like rat droppings—tiny and grey. Whatever you find in an oyster that ain’t edible, you can keep, all right? Now I need four dozen opened before we start with the early dinner crowd.”

So she’d shucked her first seven, settling in a rhythm to the job, and trying to keep the big canvas gloves from falling off her hands. Sara wondered if she could buy an oyster knife for Thetus—he’d appreciate the tool, she knew. Just as she reached the point of wondering if he even celebrated his birthday, and how she could bring him a cupcake with a candle, she spotted something in the last oyster she’d popped open.

Her heart thudded when the gleam of green shone out. Startled, Sara nearly dropped the oyster, but didn’t. Instead, she braced a hand on it, and gently probed with the blade, moving aside the wet layer of oyster innards with the point of her knife and exposing the pearl nestling on the underside of the shell.

It was a opaline green, the nacre tinted a rich mossy shade made all the more beautiful in the florescent light. Sara held her breath, blinking at it, feeling the flush of fear and hope race madly through her. Green. God, it’s right there. GREEN.

Shaking now, she carefully sloughed off a glove as she stared at the pearl. So perfect and round, and—

--Tiny. It was slightly larger than a BB, or the head of a beaded pin. Sara reached into the oyster shell and plucked it out, pinching it tightly in her fingers. The feel of it was surprisingly heavy, and she slipped her hand out of the other glove, bringing it up to cup under the one holding the pearl.

Loosening her grip, she let the tiny pearl roll into her palm and studied it. The pearl seemed to glow a little, the rich iridescence a sheen over the emerald tint. Sara closed her eyes tightly.

Faith.

O-kay.

Thetus is coming back.

 And I. Have. The. Pearl.

Sara hastily stuffed the pearl into the watch pocket of her jeans and drew a deep breath, then put her gloves back on.

She couldn’t stop smiling.

The Pacific Current had carried him south, far enough to let him catch the Deep River nearly half a mile under the water. It was nearly pitch black, and Thetus had to keep alert in case there was any debris along the flow, but for the most part it was a smooth journey with only the rush of the water lulling around him. Two days later, he felt the change in temperature, and noted the general shift from sand to living coral. Slowly, he let himself drift upward following a few stray bubbles to the surface.

Thetus was hungry, but he knew he could wait a while longer to eat; it was more important to determine how close he was to the Sanctuary first. As he broke to the surface he blinked, momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight glittering over the waves. The air was still, and the vast emptiness of the sea stretched out in every direction. Thetus stared upward, gauging the clouds.

In the southern sky hung a massive, grey thunderhead, the anvil shape easily hundreds of feet high, and heavy with rain. Seeing it, Thetus smiled, and turned his face towards it, breathing deeply. The air held moisture, and more than that, it held the faintest trace of greenery; the Sanctuary was fewer than a hundred miles away.  Thetus dove back under the waves, staying only a few feet under the surface now as he swam strongly, encouraged.

He reached the atoll within three hours, swimming in increasingly shallower waters as he drew closer to the tiny island. The warm water and spectacular corals cheered him, and Thetus took a moment to enjoy the change of scenery. The northern waters were beautiful, but nothing compared to the jewel tones of the Mother Pacific in all her glory.

 Thetus broke his fast with a Wakame salad, fresh gathered, and supplemented with mussels. Refreshed, he began the slow search for a stonefish, keeping the heavy hollow bulb of kelp close in hand. The seaweed had hard air-filled nodules; perfect for trapping liquids underwater. Thetus used them often, but never for something as important as this.

Never for something as dangerous as this.

The venom of the stonefish is among the most toxic in the world, and Thetus was aware that deliberately provoking one was to court death; he’d kept that knowledge from Sara. Stonefish were by nature sluggish, but one wrong move could still be fatal.

He kept to the shallows, looking up from the water periodically to get his bearings. The atoll was only a hundred yards away; a horseshoe shaped island barely half a mile in length, dotted with lush foliage and towering coconut trees. It was too small to support any wildlife beyond birds, insects and crabs; just a speck of green in a blue ocean, frequently passed by in favor of larger islands with deeper anchorage. Yet encompassed in this atoll was a lagoon favored by the Wave Born, and considered a sacred place. Centuries of devoted cultivation had shaped the coral there into formal gardens, and deep under the atoll itself, in a wide and warm cave was the Oracle of the Seas, a wizened old mermaid with two guardian dolphins.

The MerMater, oldest of the Wave Born.

 Even the Triad, those grizzled fierce warriors, deferred to her. Thetus had only seen her once, when he was a fry scarcely longer than grouper. She’d seemed ancient even then, with silvery hair shot through with strands of blue, her half-closed eyes still sharp. The elders of the Wave Born made the pilgrimage to visit the Sanctuary twice a year, each time coinciding with their trek following the seasons of the sea.

Thetus hoped to avoid the MerMater and her sleek attendants; she would have every right to sentence him to death for violating his Banishment if she caught him. Nevertheless, the atoll would have at least one stonefish within the shallow lagoon, and if he was quick and quiet, the task would be done without note. Carefully he cruised the warm waters, his gaze sweeping along the bottom for anything that looked right. The light danced through the waters, flickering and sparkling over the coral as he searched.

Twice he circled the Atoll, finding nothing. Discouraged, Thetus found a sandy valley between two rounded heads of brain coral and let himself settle down in the shallow warmth to sleep. He dreamed of Sara, fleeting and sweet, her voice still in his thoughts even when he groggily woke up hours later.

Carefully he sat up, only to realize there was a shadow across him, and when he looked up to see what was blocking the light, the long strands of silver and blue flared out from the dark figure drifting overhead. Thetus bowed instinctively, even as his pulse raced and a thousand excuses and explanations darted about his mind like trapped minnows.

“Arise, Banished One and tell me why you are here,” came the dry command deep in his head; testament to the MerMater’s power. Thetus looked up at her and one word came out.

“Love.”

“Ah. That emotion,” she grumbled dismissively, and drifted closer. Thetus could see the silver on her scales, and the leathery sag of her skin. He wondered how old she was, exactly.

“Just over three hundred seasons, you impertinent egg!” came her swift snap to his unasked question. “I hatched in the middle of a tempest, and saw balls of lightning roll across the waves. I fought the war against the last sea dragon, and joined the others in the feast afterwards. Times long gone, Hatchling, long gone. What love brings you to Sanctuary?”

“Sara,” he admitted gently, the name slipping from his lips. The MerMater looked at him with knowing eyes.

“A Land name.”

“A Land woman.”

“Trouble. Why do the young persist in following their hearts to places out of the water?” came the low musing. The MerMater drifted down towards Thetus and politely he extended his arm; she took it, feeling the muscle along his bicep. “Hmm, strong. You’d do well with the sea horses, or maybe training the orcas up north. So . . . which of you is going to change, Eggling?”

Her casual tone gave Thetus hope, and when she nudged him along to escort her, he carefully did, the two of them swimming at a stately pace. “She wants to, MerMater.”

“Because of love,” The Oracle pondered softly, her old face slightly troubled. “It’s the challenge of a life, Thetus, son of  Oliviana and Polarin—to give up all and step into the dark unknown, with only your lover’s hand to guide you in. Most land walkers hate the water, and a return to the mother of us all. She will be afraid, you know.”

“She’s not like that,” Thetus protested, albeit politely. “Sara is more at home here than on the surface.”

The Oracle laughed, creating a cloud of fizzy bubbles from her lips. “Many claim such; few prove it.”

“I have faith,” Thetus persisted. “Sara has faith.” But even as he said it, a tiny doubt nagged at the back of his mind. The Oracle stared into his eyes knowingly.

“If you had perfect faith, I would have called for the delphinidae to take you to the Triad, little Krill, but I can see how very human you have become by association with this female.”

Thetus said nothing, knowing the MerMater was musing aloud for his benefit. She continued, her silver and blue hair drifting like translucent tendrils of a jellyfish. “Love, however, does compel forward, willingly or not. You seek the Synanceia verrucosa?”

“Yes, Mater.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and within a few seconds a large and ungainly fish wobbled towards them along the sea bottom. Thetus thought it looked like an annoyed rock, and he held still as it rose to meet them, fins flailing. The MerMater held out a hand, letting the portly fish rest on her old palm. The ugly thing waggled its fins for a moment then settled down, lower jaw flexing, gills flaring.

Thetus had the unkind impression that the fat little fish was catching its breath.

The MerMater nodded to him; Thetus plucked the largest kelp bulb and hesitated. She pulled her other hand free of his and reached up to the dorsal fin of the stone fish, pinching lightly on either side of it. The fins, along with their deadly spines rose up, and Thetus impaled the narrow end of the kelp bulb on the longest one.

“Now for the milking,” she commented absently, and pressed down on the chubby fish. Thetus held the bulb in place, seeing dark shadows of venom through opaque walls. After a few long moments, the MerMater nodded, and Thetus pulled the bulb up, plugging the tiny hole with a pebble.

The MerMater took her hand away from the spines, then gently stared at the fish. Under her commanding gaze, the fish seemed to give a little shrug and slithered off the supporting platform of her palm to glide, ungracefully, back to the sea floor. The MerMater watched him go. “Useful, but not particularly beautiful. Rather like me, Eggling.”

“MerMater—“ Thetus protested gently. She waved her hand at him, and smiled.

“Guilelessness is the mark of youth, Thetus. No need to rise to the bait every time. Now I shall turn and contemplate the nudibranches on yonder coral ledge, and when I turn back, you—the Banished One—will never have been here. And in five year’s time I expect to see you again . . . whether or not the Formulae works.”

Thetus wanted to thank her, but no words came; he took her hand and kissed it gently. She smiled again and turned, humming softly as he slipped away. “Oh there’s life in the old Siren yet . . . “

Sara felt the jolt all the way up her arm; a charge of joy warm, thrilling and strong. It knocked the breath out of her, and she swayed a little under the impact, looking instinctively out over the moonlit waves rolling in. All night she’d waited impatiently to test the waters, feeling somehow that Thetus was there, and wanting to meet up with him. It was a sweet restlessness like she’d never felt before, a happy anticipation that kept her step light all evening.

And now, connecting to the water and through it to Thetus made her laugh out loud and she called to him. “Thetus!”

“Sara!” Darting through the curl of a wave like a shaggy dog playing in the surf came Thetus. He rode in on the power of the wave, bracing his hands on the shallows to pin himself and not be pulled back by the tide when the water receded. Sara waded out to him, dropping to her knees and hugging him as he sat up. Thetus surprised her though, and pulled her into a kiss, his lips still smiling even against hers and it didn’t take much to tug her into his lap.

She was wet now, but not cold, not with her arms around his neck and her mouth on his. This was a hungry kiss, full of breath-stealing passion, and she gave as good as she got, growling happily.

When they broke apart, they spoke at the same time.

“I have the venom!”
“I have the pearl!”

They laughed and both said “What?” at the same time, but the boom and hiss of the surf around them was too loud for conversation, so Thetus took Sara’s hand and swam with her behind the roll of the waves, to where the water of the bay lay calm and beautiful under the silver tints of the moonlight.

“Venom? What venom?” Sara demanded, lightly treading water. It was hard to swim with shoes on, and it took forever for them to dry out afterwards, but seeing Thetus was worth damp socks in the future.

“The last ingredient for the Formulae,” Thetus told her, looping one of her arms around his neck. “It’s a long story, best saved for another time.  The point is that I have all but the pearl itself.”

“I’ve got it,” Sara blurted, thrilled to see Thetus stare at her, eyes full of hope. She nodded, and carefully fished under the water into her wet jeans. “Ever since I found it a week ago I’ve been carrying it with me. Kinda small though—“ she brought her hand up and waited until his palm was under her fingers before releasing it.

In the moonlight, the tiny orb glowed, and Thetus peered at it intently. “Where did you find it?”

Sara explained about the oysters at the Crab Pot, and the lucky day shucking; how she’d been carrying it with her ever since. Thetus nodded and when he raised his gaze to hers, his eyes shone. “So this is it; the time to make our decision, Sara. Hear me out—I know you said you would give up the land for me, but at the time, you were . . . “

“Drunk,” she finished for him matter-of-factly. “Um, yeah. But what I said then is still true, Thetus. What do I have here? A runaway brother. A crazy mom who’s never going to get out from the hospital, a minimum wage job and an iffy chance at a scholarship, and a rep as the kid of a murderer. The only person left who would give a damn about me is Sid, and he’s stretched so thin now that he only checks in on me once every couple of weeks. Yeah, I could keep going, but I look at you and think that if it’s going to be without you, then why?”

Thetus said nothing and kept looking at her drifting in the black and silver water, her eyes locked on his. He tightened his arm around her waist and bent to whisper in her ear, his words coming thick and fast over the sounds of the sea around them. “Sara, it will be hard and terrible at first. I’ve never done this before, and sometimes the transformation doesn’t work right. The pearl is small and I don’t want you to die, least of all for me!”

She smiled at him then; that quirky twist to her mouth, and Thetus could see the tears glittering in her eyes. “Thetus . . . knock knock.”

He blinked, remembering back years ago when Sara had taught him about this sort of joke, and he’d always enjoyed the punning nature of them. Automatically, Thetus whispered, “Who’s there?”

“Me. Sara.” She drew a breath. “Let me in. I love you.”

The rush of emotion overwhelmed him and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tail sweeping hard to keep them both afloat as he trembled in her arms. Sara clung to him and lifted his face so she could kiss it from ear to ear, whispering things that thrilled him.

He looked up at the moon shining down on the pair them, and laughed. “I love you too. It will take two days for the moon to be full and the Formulae at full potency. Can you be ready then, Sara?”

“Hell yes.”

Dear Sid,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. You’ve been good to me these past two and a half years, and I didn’t want to go without telling you that. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me—from handling my case and putting me with the Gallinis, to being forgiving about the whole car thing. It was stupid of me to lash out like that, and I’m sorry.

I know it’s been tough to figure out what to do with me, especially since nobody really wants older kids. In three months, I’ll be eighteen anyway, so I thought I’d make it easy on you. I’m going to change my life, and go somewhere new. Somewhere where nobody knows about my past, or talks about it when they don’t think I can hear. Somewhere where you don’t get ripped off Where I can make a good life for myself. I’m going to be okay, Sid, really. If my brother can manage out there, I know I can too.

Anyway, you’ve been great, and don’t worry about me. I  plan on going places and doing things that make me happy.  Take care of yourself.

Sara S.

PS. I left you something in a little bag under this letter. If you don’t find it, then Shannon stole it.

By the time the full moon rose over the waters of  Tomales Bay, the wind had begun to blow in earnest, making whitecaps out along the rumpled water. Sara remembered the same phenomenon being evident when she’d first met Thetus, and considered it a good sign.

She knelt in the water, feeling exposed in her tee shirt and panties, but not cold, not with Thetus holding her hand and bracing her in the surf. He was floating over the drop off, one hand in hers, the other holding an ancient, crusted urn that seemed to hum, faintly. Sara listened.

“You must swallow it all, and then put your face into the water and breathe in,” Thetus told her with great seriousness. “The water will sweep through as you change, and make it adapt you for life within it.”

“How long will it take?” Sara asked, looking again at the urn. Thetus shook his head.

“I don’t know. Two or three minutes for your upper body, then longer for the rest. I’ve only heard of the process, but never done it. Sara—“ he admitted to her bleakly. “You may die.”

He’d said it, and the looming truth of his words should have scared her, but Sara simply nodded, feeling her heart pound hard. “Yeah. But I’d be right where I want to be, so that’s okay.”

Thetus stared at her as if she was the most wonderful thing on the planet, and he cocked his head as he handed her the urn.

She pulled the cork stopper out of the urn and tipped it to her lips, aware, aware of so many things in that moment: the gleam of the moon on the water; the sweet scent of brine on the freshening gusts, Thetus, still and solemn next to her, and over all that, the thudding beats of her heart, counting out her last seconds.

Sara drank, deeply. The thick Formulae slid down her throat and for a moment she nearly gagged, but desire was stronger than disgust and Sara swallowed, forcing the slow-flowing potion down. From the first taste, it numbed her mouth, coating it and her throat in passing; she shook her head from side to side.

Thetus’s hand cupped the back of her head, guiding her down and her face plunged into the waves, cooling under the water. Sara kept her eyes closed, and the Merman’s words echoed in her head in a dizzy repeating phrase, Breathe in, breathe in, breathe in—

Her body fought, but Sara fought back, and willingly sucked in the cold Pacific into her lungs. It burned. The sting hurt like a thousand shocks and for a moment, she tensed in the water, DeadI’mdead! But the pain ebbed away, and she slowly lost consciousness, fading away into the dark.

Thetus held her body for a long time afterwards, cradling it carefully, stroking Sara’s drifting hair as it flowed about her head. The moonlight filtered through the water in long wavy shafts of light, illuminating the pearl sheen of Sara’s still form in the darkness.

He lightly touched the new formed gills behind her ears, reassuring himself that they were moving, albeit slowly. Sara’s eyes were closed, but her serene expression gave him confidence.

That, and her long slender tail that began at her hips and ended in lacy flukes wider than her shoulders. Occasionally she flexed, making it sweep through the dark water. Thetus thought it was beautiful, both aesthetically and sensually, but he chided himself to keep his attention on her upper torso.

She still wore the tee shirt, translucent in the dim light. Thetus had freed her from the underwear once her legs began to meld and her skin changed. At the moment, she seemed to be in a deep sleep, and he wasn’t sure if waking her was safe. Fortunately, it was easy to tow her along under the water, towards the area at the edge of the oyster bed that had been home for the last two—nearly three—years. Sara was light, and offered almost no drag.

They made it to the rusty anchor, and Thetus draped Sara across his lap as he sat there in the darkness. The hours passed, and with it, the night. When the dimness began to lighten, and the greys faded to reveal the warm browns, oranges and yellows of the sea, Thetus hugged the mermaid in his arms, feeling that the time was close at hand. With care, he tilted her head up and kissed her, just as the first rays of sunlight pierced the waves.

Sara’s eyes opened, and instantly the protective membranes flicked over them. She shuddered a little, then blinked, and looked around before tipping her face to Thetus. He smiled at her. “It worked.”

The words echoed in her head, and she threw a quick glance down the length of her body. A burst of bubbles escaped her lip as she laughed, and she reached up behind her ears, lightly touching her gills. “God, I wish I had a mirror!”

“Ask me and I’ll always tell you what you look like, Sara. You’re beautiful.”

She blushed a little, glancing downward, and the sunlight lit the crown of her head as she did so. Thetus rose up and took her hand, motioning to the vast fields of the ocean, his expression full of love, joy and excitement. “Welcome to my world, Sara. There’s so much to show you.”

She grinned. “Let’s get started.”



END