She traveled up the kelp tower until the water began to lighten considerably from the morning sun. Turning, she put on speed as she darted through the leafy tops of the structures, passing out of the farm and into the less cultivated kelp forests within minutes. Her instinct about the workers’ patterns was right—she didn’t pass another soul within the kelp farms.
Now she just had to worry about avoiding any patrols, and she would be fine. Well, that and the dangerous sea creatures that populated the area outside the triple kingdoms. The presence of these animals was the reason there were guards constantly patrolling the borders. As much as no one was supposed to leave the triple kingdoms without a valid reason, like the hunting parties, it wasn’t actually the job of the guards to keep merpeople in. But they wouldn’t hesitate to give her a hard time if they saw her wandering where she shouldn’t be. Experience had proven that.
Shortly after leaving the farms for the forest, she felt the slight release of tension that told her she was crossing the barrier at the boundary of the triple kingdoms. The sensation was so familiar that she barely noticed it, continuing without a check.
Merletta reached the edge of the forest, floating between the wild kelp for a moment as she checked that the water was clear. Open water beckoned, still gloomy in the dim light of the early morning, even though the surface was only a few fathoms above her. She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing a swirl of cool salty water into her mouth. Then she propelled herself out of the fronds, plunging into the ocean’s expanse. This was one of her favorite moments—the feeling of freedom that came from leaving the city behind. The elation she felt as her strokes took her out into open water, with nothing visible on any side, was indescribable.
She struck out without a clear direction in mind, almost giddy with the freedom of it. Usually, her explorations had been limited to the very early hours of the morning, before she’d be missed at the home. But if she had understood Instructor Wivell correctly, she had an entire day free, with no one particularly caring what she did with it. Such a liberty was completely unprecedented in her life.
She soared above the jagged edges of a familiar canyon, its points and twists partially hidden by the gloom, given how high she was. Feeling as unfettered as the great seabirds she’d seen wheeling overhead, she swam quickly, flicking her tail rapidly until she was out beyond the normal patrol ring of the guards. There might be all manner of unpredictable sea beasts out here, but she’d take them over the depressing predictability of an armed merguard any day. She patted the satchel slung tightly across her chest to reassure herself. She had brought her weapon today.
The water was getting warmer up so high, and she dove a little deeper, giving herself time to acclimatize before she reached the surface. Spotting a fever of rays up ahead, she pushed herself through the water with a smile, eager to join them. She slowed her pace when she reached them, weaving in and out between their sleek, flat bodies, running her fingers along their backs and watching as they gently flapped their wings in response. It was a large fever, the mass of golden-brown bodies stretching almost as far as she could see. They were beautiful, moving in tandem, their path through the water effortless and unhurried. If only merpeople could coexist as peacefully, Merletta thought ruefully.
Increasing her pace, she progressed through the fever, her eyes passing disinterestedly over the stingers stretching out behind each creature. This was one of the many delights merpeople like those two farm workers missed out on by embracing the fear of the open ocean they were taught from birth. Merletta had been told of the dangers of these creatures, of the deadly power of their stingers, as though they were monsters in the night. What she’d never been told, and had needed to discover for herself, was that they were gentle by nature, not aggressive, and not to be feared unless provoked. Most merpeople never gave themselves the opportunity to learn that information.
A sudden shaft of sunlight, cutting through the layers of water with random precision, turned the brown of a nearby ray into gold. Merletta looked up, her attention drawn from the creatures beside her to the world above. She darted forward, pushing upward as well as outward, ready to feel the sun on her face again.
She broke the surface with a splash of delight, her throat opening involuntarily, and the fresh, beautiful air passing down it. There was something truly liberating about the sensation.
She had once cut a sea turtle free, after it had gotten caught in a fisher’s net set up to catch cod. She often thought of that moment when she emerged at the surface and felt the blockage in her throat open—it was surely the same feeling. She remembered also her punishment when the fisher complained to the head of the charity home about his ruined net. But she had never regretted her intervention. Sometimes at night, she dreamed she was tangled in a net and woke thrashing and breathless. In her dreams no one came to help her, but there was no need for the turtle to be trapped in the same fear.
Merletta shook off such dark thoughts. She was at the surface now, the most free place she’d ever found. The sun was strong, hardly a cloud to be seen. Merletta stretched out on her back, closing her eyes and letting the warmth soak into her skin and scales. The incredible feeling of genuine heat she experienced at the surface was worth the increased awareness she now had of how cold it really was in the depths. The Center was even colder than Tilssted.
Her eyes still closed, she allowed herself to drift, gentle swells carrying her up and down. Most merpeople would be in great danger of getting lost if they did such a thing, but Merletta wasn’t worried. She knew the area well—most likely she was currently drifting over the large reef shaped like a mermaid’s tail.
She smiled to herself as she imagined the reaction of the kind-hearted farm laborer if she could see what Merletta was up to. Half of Merletta’s body was out of the water as she floated on her back, the sun touching her from the crown of her head to the tip of her tail. The other mermaid would probably expect Merletta to dry out at any moment. Merletta chuckled at the thought. She had once been so ignorant, too.
The head at the charity home had actually told them directly that allowing a substantial part of their bodies to be outside water for too long would cause them to dry out. Merletta was fairly sure the head had done it in order to discourage illicit expeditions like her own. But after testing the theory more than once with no ill effect, she’d been foolish enough to confront the head with her lie. She’d been young then, and not wise enough to foresee the inevitable consequence of her confession.
But perhaps it had been worth it—she’d been punished severely for her trips outside the boundary, and had been watched closely for months. But the head had also grudgingly admitted that mermaids couldn’t actually suffer the fatal malady of drying out simply from sticking their heads out of the water for too long. It made sense to Merletta that it was safe for her to look above the surface—why else would her throat have the ability to open and close as needed, allowing the transition from breathing water to breathing air? Clearly the charity home taught its beneficiaries a warped version of the truth to discourage exploration.
But she was no longer stuck in the charity home. She was a trainee of the Center now, and she would soon be learning the more complete truth on a range of topics. The thought warmed her almost as much as the sunlight on her skin.
Eventually she flipped over, diving back below the surface to cool off from the intensity of the sun. She found she’d drifted further east than she’d guessed, the reef some distance behind her. She turned, heading north with relaxed strokes. She glanced at the skin of her arms as she swam, reflecting, as she had many times before, that her increased exposure to sunlight may be part of what made her darker than other mermaids with similar coloring.
Most of the merpeople went to the surface very rarely, and even then only in organized groups which traveled straight upward from the cities. Merletta had never come across anyone else willing to brave the dangers of the open ocean alone as she did. And in fact, she thought, glancing around her, it wasn’t as dangerous as she’d been led to believe. Perhaps another instance of exaggeration by the trainers at the home.
As if to contradict her thoughts, a glimpse of white to her left drew her attention. She shuddered as she caught sight of a bloom of jellyfish, grateful that it was moving away from her. There were some hazards, certainly.
But Merletta wasn’t for a moment tempted to turn back. Not when she had a whole day for exploration. She’d been this far out a couple times, but never in this direction, and she was eager to see what she might discover. Passing another reef, she dove down to duck inquisitively around the coral. She was well and truly outside the triple kingdoms now, and the creatures weren’t used to the presence of merpeople like those in the reef surrounding the Center. Fish darted away from her, even a small reef shark weaving away at her passage.
The reef wasn’t far under the surface, and sunlight slanted through in thick shafts. Merletta glanced up as something obscured the light for an instant. She laughed with delight at the underside of a dolphin, leaping in and out of the water. She was closer to the surface than she’d realized. Brow furrowed in confusion, Merletta glanced around. She’d assumed the reef had grown up on a large rocky shelf which reached toward the surface. But in fact, the area was quite sandy, the ocean floor itself seeming to slant upward indefinitely. How could that be?
Merletta propelled herself upward, following the dolphin’s lead. Within moments, she reached the surface, pushing her unrestrained hair out of her eyes as she scanned the open sea. She turned, looking for the dolphin, and her eyes grew round at a sight she had never seen before.
“Land,” she breathed.
It had to be. The dry ground before her was no rocky shaft sticking out of the water as she had seen a few times in other places. It was a huge expanse, rising to such a height that the sea would never cover it, no matter what the tide. Merletta blinked furiously, but the vision didn’t disappear.
She swam slowly toward it, as if in a trance, hardly able to keep her eyes open against the brightness.
Because it was so very bright.
It put the colorful coral gardens to shame. The land was bordered by sand like that of the ocean floor. But this sand looked like it had never been touched by water, and was much lighter and brighter than it should be in the sparkling sunshine. The land rose beyond the sand in a green mound, covered in plants that were nothing like the kelp forests Merletta knew. They were much too green, much too bright, and only rustled ever so slightly in the light breeze, instead of swaying constantly in the current.
It was land, no doubt about it. But how was it possible? The triple kingdoms had been established far from the land for the merpeople’s protection, everyone knew that. Their ancestors had discovered that merpeople weren’t safe close to land—it was one of the few things that even the common people were taught about their history. The children at the home had often repeated the bedtime stories late at night, speaking of the fierce and bloodthirsty beasts that populated the land, and would kill any mermaid on sight. Dragons, they were called.
Some of the carers used to threaten disobedient merchildren—such as Merletta—with banishment to the surface to dry out or be hunted and eaten by the fearsome monsters. The stories had frightened her as a small child, but she had long ago learned to roll her eyes at such nonsense.