Page List


Font:  

Merletta paused, trying to master her nerves. “The truth is, it’s my fault your husband died.”

She saw Emil and Andre start, and she felt Sage’s eyes on her. But she didn’t look at any of them.

“I’m more sorry than I can say,” she went on, her voice cracking slightly in spite of her best efforts. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. But I showed him, and the others, something they weren’t supposed to see. Something I was never supposed to see. And I believe they were killed for it.”

For a long moment, there was silence. “If that’s so,” the widow said at last, “then why weren’t you also killed?”

Merletta blinked, surprised by the older mermaid’s calm response. “I don’t entirely know,” she said frankly. “They initially thought I was dead, I believe. I was afraid to come back to the triple kingdoms, for fear I’d be killed when they saw I was still alive. But too many others saw me once I was back here, and I’ve become, well…” she thought of Heath’s words, “visible since then. I think maybe it’s risky to kill me off.”

Again, their hostess was silent for a moment. Merletta had expected her to be horrified, or angry, or perhaps disbelieving. She hadn’t anticipated a calm, thoughtful response.

“I think you need to explain what happened,” the older mermaid said finally.

So Merletta told her, haltingly, what had really happened on that day. She told her about how she’d already known of the land, and how she had met the human there. She tried to keep her anger at bay as she spoke of the total falseness of calling Heath aggressive. She knew she’d be more convincing if she could keep her emotions out of it. She described the attack on him, and her own injuries.

“So you stayed there, near the land, for a whole month?” the widow asked sharply.

Merletta nodded. For a moment she teetered on the edge of revealing to them all that she’d actually been on land. But she wasn’t at all sure their hostess believed even what she’d already said. If she started talking about sprouting legs, the mermaid would probably think she’d gone mad, and would disregard her whole story.

“But…” Andre’s eyes were wide. “How are you alive? How did you escape the land sickness?”

“Very easily,” said Merletta dryly. She met the widow’s eyes. “There’s a reason none of us had heard of land sickness before. It’s a lie, conveniently created to explain the deaths of your husband’s patrol.”

The mermaid jerked perceptibly, but it was Emil who spoke, his voice calm.

“I had heard of it. In my studies.”

The older mermaid’s eyes flew to his, her expression searching. “So you believe it’s real, do you?”

Emil paused for so long Merletta thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he said, slowly but clearly, “No, I do not.”

He said no more. His words hung in the water, and Merletta could see the change in Andre’s demeanor as he grasped what the junior record holder was saying. Her heart ached for the young trainee, experiencing for the first time the disillusionment that they’d all faced in their studies. The realization that the program lied, even to its own trainees, was hard to swallow at first.

“If your suspicions are correct,” the older mermaid said quietly, addressing herself to Merletta, “then my husband’s death was not your fault. You were a victim of the same corruption that claimed his life. But what I still don’t understand is how he actually died. Land sickness may not be real, but something certainly affected his mind, and his body.”

“I don’t doubt it, since I’ve experienced it myself,” said Merletta grimly. “When I collapsed at the memorial, I wasn’t just ill in my stomach. My mind turned on me. I saw…” She shook her head at the unpleasant memories. “I saw all kinds of strange things. But I retained enough suspicion not to tell anyone what I was experiencing, not to give any outward sign that could allow someone to claim I was suffering from land sickness. And after I passed out, Sage and Emil stayed with me the whole time. If someone intended to do me a mischief, they had no opportunity.”

“You believe someone meant to claim you had also died of land sickness?” their hostess asked sharply. “Does someone else know, then, about the month you spent near the land?”

Merletta shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know for certain. But…” she hesitated, “I’d been to the land again two days before the ceremony. I think someone knew, or perhaps guessed, where I’d been. I think they hoped I would betray myself if I believed I had land sickness. Which makes me think they didn’t know just how much time I’ve spent near land, and how well I know that land sickness can’t be real.”

There was another lull as everyone pondered her words.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what caused the hallucinations I had,” Merletta added. “But I don’t doubt for a moment that it’s the same thing that caused your husband’s.”

“Actually,” Emil cut in, “I have more information on that.” He looked at Merletta. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you. But Sage passed on your thoughts about the food you ate for breakfast. It took me a long time to find any mention of it, and as a junior record holder, I definitely wasn’t supposed to be reading the relevant record. But there is a type of bream that can cause hallucinations. It’s to do with what the fish eats, apparently.”

Merletta gasped. “I ate bream that morning. Remember, Andre? I didn’t recognize the fish, and you said you thought it was bream.”

Andre gaped back at her.

“So the fish is poisonous?” the widow pressed. “Did you survive because you threw it back up?” She frowned. “August threw up as well, though.”

“It’s not poisonous,” said Emil. “I very much fear that the illness was just an excuse. The guards died in…some other way.”

Again there was silence, as everyone grappled with the fact that the fallen patrol, publicly honored for their sacrifice in protecting the barrier, had most likely met a violent end within the triple kingdoms themselves.

“Thank you.” The older mermaid’s quiet voice broke the stillness. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I understand the risk you take in doing so, and I won’t do anything to expose you to danger if I can help it.”


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy