The Mermaid House: Part Nineteen

WHEN LEANDER TURNED, Amphitrite the dead girl, the gorgon, stood before them. She seized Violet by the throat and flung her.
    As Violet slid into a heap against the rocks, Leander yelled and lunged, but a clawed hand pressed against his chest, over his heart, paralyzing him. The blood seemed to stop pumping through him.   
    Amphitrite leaned close, whispered, "I shall sew you up, filled with morning glories, my beautiful boy."
    Those claws needled into his chest. He closed his eyes against her, said, "You have to give something back."
    He felt the claws withdraw a little. Warm blood slid beneath his T-shirt. The ocean was a cold abyss at his back, but what stood before him was ancient, luminous, and fatal. She whispered,"What did you say?"
    Something wet and cold twined around his neck as her body pressed against his. His stomach knotted as he realized it was her hair, swirling around him. He opened his eyes and met her silver gaze. "If you take from me, you've got to give something back. That's the rule."
    Her eyes narrowed. She stepped back, her writhing hair sliding from him. "Well...what shall I give? Because, Leander Cyrus, I am taking you."
    There was one thing he could request, to set things right. He said, "Let Violet be human again."
    "She's been dead for seven years."
    "You're a sea goddess and you can't give one girl her life back?"
    An eel slithered through the tangles of her black hair. "It is the first rule: The dead cannot become living again."
(Illustration by Lucien Levy-Dhurmer)   

The Mermaid House: Part Eighteen

 

 
I'M DEAD.
    Then Leander was breathing again, choking up water, blind and cold as he lay on the sand. A voice was telling him roughly, "Idiot."
    He opened his eyes, saw the night sky. He could hear the ocean. Crouched beside him was a dead boy in soaked jeans and a T-shirt. Owen Thyme said, "You need to get away now."
    Leander whispered, "You're dead."
    "I'm dead because of that monster you nearly made a deal with."
    Leander slid into a crouch, spat out sea water. "You're the thing in the well...the snake..."
    Owen Thyme raised his head. His eyes were black. "I belong to Amphitrite."
    "Owen." Leander felt his voice choke into a snarl. "Tell me what will kill her."
    "I can't tell you." A dark flower petal slid from between Owen Thyme's lips. He coughed and more petals emerged, like flakes of dried blood. He stared as they fluttered away. "You've got a chance to get away, Leander Cyrus. Take it."
    Leander staggered to his feet. "Not without Violet."
    "Goddamn it!" Owen pushed his hands through his wet hair. He looked up and whispered, "I can't help you, can I? Remember this then: If they take, they have to give someting back."
    Leander heard Violet call his name. He whirled and pelted across the sand.
    In the shadows of the tall rocks, someone grabbed his hand.
    Violet flung her arms around him. He held her tightly, believing in her warm reality, and she kissed him. He tasted the salt of tears, whispered, "I won't let her take you."
    They ran as clouds twined across the moon. They fled past the elegant, glass bathhouse flickering from glittering reality to scattered ruins. The shadows seemed to glide after them, spiky and silver-eyed, whispering.
    Leander, looking over his shoulder, didn't see it coming.
(Illustration: John William Waterhouse)

The Mermaid House: Part Seventeen

GLASS WALLS SLICED ACROSS the night sky. Metal girders evolved from the moonlight. An elegant interior of pools, potted trees, and chandeliers enfolded Leander. Statues ghosted from the air. He stood ankle-deep in a shallow pool, with a ceiling of glass arching above him and the stars glimmering down through it. He heard violins echoing in the distance, along with laughter and joyful shouts. The chandeliers burst into light, each one resembling a crystal octopus.
    The pool furthest away began to shine as if a star was being born within it.
    He was tired of running, tired of being scared. Exhaustion and grief made everything seem dream-like and he swayed where he stood, said hoarsely, "Where is Violet?"
    She rose from the water, the black-eyed thing posing as a girl in a white, wet gown. She stood on the water and smiled and the illusion of the elegant bathhouse flickered like stuttering electricity. When it went dark for seconds, it became a moonlit ruin again, and she...she became something like a tangle of bones and gauze, glistening crabs and fluttering anemones. He was almost sick.  He quickly averted his gaze.
    "Boy." The black-eyed girl walked toward him, through the water. "You should not have kissed her."
    He couldn't speak. Terror was fracturing his courage. But he had come too far. "Just let her go...why do you need her?"
    Her eyes were ink-black. Like the bathhouse, she seemed to flicker in and out of  reality...a beautiful girl one moment, a hollow-eyed horror of writhing white and black the next. She tilted her head. "Do you want to bargain?"
    Instinct shrieked at him to run, to deny her offer. He thought of Violet huddled beside him, remembered how she had stared at the blood on her hand. She had had a family once. She had done something, something that had gotten the attention of the nightmare before him, and her life had ended. He swallowed, whispered, "You can have me in exchange."
    "And why," She stood before him now, smiling, "would I want you?"
    "Because I'm new." He understood what he was offering. He didn't care. The world was full of pain and loss, but maybe Violet could appreciate it more than he did.
    "And lovely." She raised one hand -- he thought he saw translucent bits of skin between her fingers -- and touched his face. He braced against a shudder.
    He felt something coil around his ankles --
    -- the jolt of being yanked beneath the water was so unexpected, he inhaled and began to choke. Darkness swept his vision as he was dragged further downward.