Chapter 15
GARRET WAS WAITING for me the next day. I had stopped in on Sandy, who seemed to be drifting further and further into the depths of her coma, and I realized it was now or never. Clutching the scroll Auntie Tautau had given me, I headed for the East Cove Marina. Garret was waiting there, in a small motorboat.
Wordlessly, he held out his hand. Taking it, I climbed into the boat with him and gingerly settled down on one of the benches. The boat rocked a little, but seemed relatively secure. I was wearing a light sarong over a bathing suit. “Will this work? I’m not sure how deep we’re going.”
“We’ll be going under about fifteen feet, then into an underwater cave. Not many people know about it—it hasn’t been documented by anybody who maps the straits because it’s hidden with a force field that provides the illusion of bottom. It leads into Irena’s home.”
The old stories about the visions of sirens combing their hair on rocks out in the middle of the ocean were a little off. Sirens created their rocks out of illusion. They had the power to generate a strong-enough vision that most humans would find tangible.
They would then sit on the “rock” and sing to humans passing by in boats. When their unlucky victim was lured in, the siren would throw off their illusion of a seductive woman and the demons would drain their victims of life force. They were similar to vampires, although they weren’t members of the undead. Once finished, they would dissolve the illusion of rock and dive below the surface again, leaving their victim’s corpse to float to the bottom as so much fish food.
As Garret checked the navigational chart, I had to ask.
“Garret, how the hell did you end up involved with a siren, let alone alive after your encounter?” The very fact that he had lived to escape said wonders about how strong—or how lucky—he was.
He grinned. “Well, that’s a bit of a story.”
“Do we have time?”
“We do.” He motioned to the seat beside him and I crossed the deck to join him. As we took off from the pier, he donned a pair of sunglasses and relaxed.
“So, some years ago—about ten now? Maybe twelve? I was in need of a particular plant that only grows in the straits. It grows in shallow water and I found a patch off the northern coast of Patos Island.”
Patos Island was one of the smallest islands in the San Juan archipelago, and it had been turned into a marine park. Some twenty thousand feet of shoreline were open to the public for camping and hiking, and there was moorage for boats, although the winds that swept through the Strait of Georgia could make things a little dicey. At this time of year, there would probably be few visitors there.
“I anchored off the northern side, where the water was about fifteen feet, and dove down. I was swimming around, looking for the plant—it was hexberry fern—and couldn’t find it. I had on a scuba suit, because I wasn’t sure just how deep I’d have to go out. I wasn’t over in the area where the riptides hit hard, but you never know just where the shoals drop off into deep water. You can go from fifteen feet to a hundred and fifteen without warning down there.”
I was beginning to feel that I had underdressed for the occasion.
Garret continued. “So, I was swimming and looking, and swimming and looking, when I caught sight of what I thought was one of the merfolk. But then I realized she didn’t have fins, she had legs, and the Meré always shift into their natural form in the water, so she couldn’t be merfolk. She swam over to me and I realized the woman was naked—which should have been a dead giveaway—and her hair was the color of twilight sky—another giveaway. But I’m a guy, and like a lot of guys, I wasn’t thinking with the right part of my brain.”
He gave me a big old grin and I laughed.
“Yeah, men tend to get themselves in a lot of trouble when they let their little brain win out over their big one.”
“You can say that again. I swam after her, mostly intending to say hello, and she motioned for me to follow her. She slipped into an opening between the rocks beneath the surface there and stupidly, I followed.”
I tried not to laugh. Getting caught by a siren wasn’t a laughing matter, but Garret had walked—or swam—right into that one without her song to enchant him. Yeah, he had been thinking with his dick, all right. The siren’s song worked on the emotions and was strong as a spider’s web against a fly. The sight of a naked woman, however, was a visual cue, not a come-hither. Sirens’ glamour came through their voices.
Garret must have noticed my expression, because he shrugged.
“Yeah, I was stupid. She was pretty, but it wasn’t like I’d never seen a pretty woman before. Anyway, I followed her through the opening and found myself in an underwater cave. I surfaced and realized that I must have gone through some sort of dimension door, because the cave should have been filled with water, but it wasn’t, and it was bigger than it should have been, given the depth of the water. At least I had the presence of mind to realize I might be in trouble.”
He paused to adjust our course.
“What did you do? Was she there?”
“Yeah, she was there, sitting on a rocky shore, combing her hair. She motioned for me to join her, but I stayed where I was. She looked pissed and it hit me as to just what she was. I just knew, you might say. I didn’t have my roots with me, of course, but even I know how to cast rudimentary magic without them. I quickly cast a Silence spell on myself, because I figured I might not be able to affect her. She started to sing, but I couldn’t hear it. That pissed her off even more—the fact that I wasn’t responding.”
“I would have done my best to get out of there.”
He shook his head. “How much do you know about sirens?”
“Not much, I admit.” I had some knowledge about water spirits because of Fata Morgana, but sirens hadn’t been my main area of expertise.
“Sirens are a form of water elemental. They’re dangerous and they’re strong. I knew that if I turned and tried to find my way out of there, the opening might not be visible to me. And she was looking angry enough that I figured she’d probably come after me, and it wouldn’t take much for her to kill me with her bare hands.”
I had to give it to Garret. He was a natural-born storyteller, because I was on the edge of my seat. “What did you do?”
He slapped his leg and laughed. “I pretended like I didn’t know what she was. I hesitantly approached the rocks, keeping a good distance from her, and lowered myself onto them. Then I took off my mask and nodded to her, smiling. I pointed to my ears and said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t hear. Do you speak sign language?’ I couldn’t hear myself, but she could because—as I figured—the spell had no effect on her. She looked puzzled for a moment, then shook her head.”
I was trying to imagine the scene, but all I could think of was Garret was lucky he had a streak of the con man in him.
“She scooted closer, but then paused. I think she was deciding whether or not she was hungry enough to kill me. I decided to do everything I could to make sure she didn’t find me appealing. I began talking about the cave, acting like she was just a normal woman. I mentioned my little brother and my aging mother who were waiting for me, and how I had to leave soon to get back to them. I laid it on thick, because I could see that she hadn’t had much to do with actually talking to humans and probably didn’t recognize all the spiels that were old as dirt.”
“How did you manage to get out of there?
“She was creeping closer, but she seemed to be listening. I talked about how my family was treated because we were different, about how my brother had been beat up so badly that he ended up with a limp because of two factors—we’re black, and we’re snakeshifters.”
I blinked, realizing that Garret’s story might actually not be all baloney. “Did that happen, Garret?” I asked softly.
He paused, his gaze meeting mine. There was a world of pain hiding in his eyes, a world I had the feeling he usually kept hidden. “Yeah, it did. My brother never fully recovered. He turned into a recluse, the beating was so severe. Thing is, we never really knew whether it was the fact that he was black, or that he was a snakeshifter. Either way, whatever the hell got into that group of good ole boys, it really pushed their buttons.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said.
“I know, but somebody should say it. Did they catch the men who did it?”
“Oh, yeah. And the judge gave them a slap on the wrist. Grandma worked her roots and trust me, those men never had a lick o’ luck after that, but still…” He fiddled with the steering wheel, then shrugged. “Life’s one big ‘Beware’ sign when you walk around with skin the color of mine.
“Anyway, so I talked about all of these things, kept up a steady stream, and Irena relaxed after a while. She motioned to a patch of dirt back a ways on the rocks, and there, she used her finger to write in the sand. It was English, so she picked up on my language. She asked me what my name was and what exactly I was. By then she had figured out I wasn’t human. I told her my name, and I explained that I was a snakeshifter and told her since I wasn’t human, she probably wouldn’t be able to feed on me—which I wasn’t entirely sure was correct. Come to find out, I was. Sirens can only lure humans in with their song and feed on them, but I didn’t know that for sure at the time. She seemed surprised that I knew she was a siren.”
“Did you confess about the Silence spell?”
“Eventually, as we sat there, yes. I took it down after a while, and we actually talked. She told me about her life, and how lonely it gets. I suggested she might have more luck if she didn’t kill off the men she called to her. We argued. Then, we…” He paused, ducking his head with a smile. “I wasn’t brought up to be crude in front of women, Maddy.”
“It’s 2017, Garret. You and she got it on. It’s pretty clear from what you said that you found her attractive and it seems she took a liking to you, too. What happened?”
“We couldn’t exactly ‘date’…not with her living in the water. So I went out there several times. She showed me her garden, we had a good time. But I realized there was no future in it and decided to break it off. Irena was pissed, but there wasn’t much she could do except try to kill me. And by then she had too many feelings for me to do that. So she told me to get the fuck out and leave her alone. I did, until now.”
I wasn’t entirely thrilled to be the cause of an unhappy reunion. “What if she won’t see us?”
“Oh, she will. I contacted her, as I told you, and she’s not thrilled, but you’re lucky. Sirens hate the merfolk, and vice versa, and when I told her you were trying to break the spell of one of the Meré, her dislike of them topped her dislike of me and she said she’d help.”
“Well, I guess chalk one up for interracial discord,” I said. “Why do they hate each other?”
“Territorial disputes. And sirens think the merfolk are lesser forms of water creatures. Remember, sirens are elementals. Merfolk aren’t. So sirens have a natural disdain for anybody who lives in their realm—the realm of water—and yet isn’t as powerful as they are.”
Garret began to slow our speed. We were approaching Patos Island and patches of kelp could be seen floating on the surface. Garret navigated cautiously through them. About two hundred acres, the island was heavily wooded except for the northwestern tip, where the lighthouse stood. Of course, we weren’t actually going to go onto the island. We were headed toward the shoals near where the wooded area gave way to the open field surrounding the lighthouse. Garret navigated cautiously, then dropped the anchor over the side. There were a few other boats moored along the island, but none near where we were.
“What now?” I glanced at my bathing suit. “Are you sure this will be all right?”
“I think it should be. You won’t be wearing a suit for breathing, right? And the water’s cool but not chilly. Though a wetsuit would have probably been a good idea.” He frowned. “Too late for that now.” He began to strip off his shirt. “I brought a wetsuit just because I’m used to diving in them.”
“You don’t just change into a snake when you dive? I thought copperheads could swim.”
“Oh, we can. But it’s harder to defend yourself when you’re in snake form, except for being able to bite. And the bite can only go so far.” He slid out of his jeans. I was relieved to see that he was wearing boxers, but I also was pretty damned impressed with the abs on the man. He was built. As he began to put on his wet suit, I leaned over the edge of the boat to feel the temperature of the water. It was chilly, but I could raise my body temperature by conjuring up some inner warmth, so I could probably handle it.
“I can compensate for the chill of the water with my magic. Any advice when I meet Irena? She can’t drain me, given I’m a witch, but that doesn’t mean she can’t do some damage.”
“Be respectful of both Irena and the ocean. Do not praise any member of the merfolk, no matter what you do, and…Irena has a bit of a soft heart when it comes to victims of the Meré. Play up Sandy’s condition and how much it’s hurting you and her family.”
I nodded, then pulled out my scroll. As I moved to the side and unrolled it, the power of Auntie Tautau’s magic flowed into my fingers. She was one hell of a powerful witch, that was for sure. I read the charm—she had written it phonetically. I wasn’t sure what language it was in, but I did as she had told me and within a few seconds, I felt something shifting in my body. While I could still breathe air, it seemed a little odd to be doing so. This was going to take some getting used to.
Garret handed me a pair of goggles. “You won’t need the snorkel, obviously, if you don’t have to breathe underwater, but here. These will help you see better.”
“Thanks.” I tied my hair back, then slipped them on, blinking. My eyelashes were almost long enough to brush against the polycarbonate lenses. The goggles fit snuggly against my forehead, temples, and cheeks to form a tight seal.
Garret was ready and he moved to the side of the boat, tying a plastic bag to his belt. “For the plant,” he said before strapping on his snorkel. “I won’t need scuba gear here. It’s not that far and Irena should be waiting.”
He sat on the side of the boat, then rolled backward over the edge. Gingerly, I sat on the same bench but facing forward, and swung my feet over the side of the boat into the water. Then, taking a deep breath by habit, I pushed myself off and into the water.
Beneath the surface, the sunlight filtering down turned everything a warm green. As we descended toward the rocky floor, I began to see the brilliant colors of the eelgrass and bull kelp forests that offered protection to the marine life. The kelp floated in long streamers, anchored by their holdfasts, a lacework structure that secured the kelp to the rocks. There were numerous species of the brown algae, a fact I had picked up from watching Jeopardy. The long waving stalks were interspersed with bulbs the size of a small coconut.
I had a moment of panic when I realized that I should be out of breath and almost inhaled a mouth full of water, but then I steadied myself—I didn’t need to breathe. I was fine. My lungs weren’t burning, my body wasn’t aching. Forcing myself to relax, I situated myself and began to follow Garret again.
Fish of various sizes and colors darted in and out of the kelp, and below, on the floor of the strait, I could see a vast world of anemones, in shades of red and purple, white and yellow, spreading out, their long fingers whipping in the currents like hair in the wind. They were alien and beautiful, and interspersed with corals that kept up the riot of color. Sponges and sea stars littered the floor of the strait, along with darting fish and sea snails creeping through the alien forest. Purple sea urchins foraged along the rocky floor at a snail’s pace, like delicate tumbleweeds rolling through a stand of tube worms.
Everywhere I looked, life blossomed, burgeoning out in a havoc of color, a dizzying dance of interplay. As I watched a massive fish passed by, at least five feet long, looking like some massive battle machine of the ocean. The belly was flat, as was the head. Four barbels protruded from the chin, and its sides were covered with scutes, ridged and bony. The tail reminded me of a shark’s tail, but I knew this was no shark, and its back looked like the serrated edge on a knife. I reached out as it passed by and caught hold of its dorsal fin, holding for just a moment before letting it go. The fish reminded me of some prehistoric dinosaur.
Garret pointed toward a massive patch of kelp. The fronds were whipping in the currents, but there was something behind them. He started into the thicket and I followed, swimming smoothly through the water. I had centuries of practice, and was grateful that Fata had insisted that both Sandy and I learn to swim.
Garret brushed aside a large bulbous stand of the seaweed. At first, all I could see was dark rock, but then, I became aware that the rock was actually moving—as if thousands of particles were darting around its surface. Another second and I recognized it for what it really was—an illusion covering the entrance of a portal. Garret swam through and I followed.
The other side of the portal led to a long tunnel of water below what felt like a mile of heavy rock. But it was short and we were out the other side in only a moment or two. Garret pointed toward the surface and we swam up, surfacing in an underwater cavern.
It was voluminous, cathedral size. The shoreline was rocky at first, then shifted to sand, rounding a corner behind one of the rock walls. I wondered where it led to, but given sirens were from the plane of water, I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to find out.
Speaking of sirens…on the shore, sitting on a boulder, was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. Oh, she wasn’t movie-star pretty, but she was striking. She was tall, with legs that stretched out forever. And she was naked, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her breasts were full and ruddy, and her hips curved smoothly, no jutting bones anywhere. With a slightly rounded belly, and hair the color of dusk, she reminded me of a newly pregnant woman, glowing with life. But then, she lifted her head to look at us, and all pastoral thoughts fled my mind.
Irena’s eyes were ocean blue, but all the storms of the world played out in them. She smiled, cunning and feral, and sharp teeth glistened in her mouth, reminding me of a fox’s teeth. Crafty, she was, I could tell by the look on her face, and her strength filled the entire cavern. No wonder Garret had been smitten. I had half a mind to try my chances with her, but I knew it was the hormones talking. I decided to apologize for laughing at Garret. Even without her song, she had the sex kitten energy down pat.
Garret motioned for me to follow him as he pulled himself up onto the shore of the cavern. I suddenly wished I was wearing more clothes. The one piece might cover all my vital areas, but I hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a long, long time.
“So, you are the witch with a need for my garden’s herbs?” Irena’s voice was as melodious as she was frightening. It was a disconcerting juxtaposition.
“I’m Maudlin Gallowglass. And yes, I need some of your thistlestar, if you would be willing to help me.” I eased myself down on a boulder not far from where she was sitting. “I’m trying to undo a hex placed by the Meré on my best friend. They attacked her with a ghost snail, after their other attempts to kill her didn’t work.”
Irena shifted, her shoulders straightening. “So, you’re no friend to the merfolk, then?”
“I never really have been.” I decided it best to forgo mentioning my acquaintance with Gillymack. “And now, even less. They’re trying to kill the woman who means the most to me in my life, who’s had my back since we first met several hundred years ago. I’m not inclined to be friends with murderers.”
She looked so satisfied that it made me hope to never be on her shit list.
“Once you bring her out of her illness, will you go after those responsible?”
“Yeah, I expect I will. If we don’t, they’ll just try again.”
Irena pressed her hands on her knees and stood, once again, leaving nothing to the imagination. Apparently, the carpet did match the drapes in her world.
“Then I will help you. Come.” She motioned for us to follow her.
I cautiously stepped over the assorted shells scattered on the rocks, trying to avoid anything that might cut my feet. Behind me, Garret started to join us, but Irena whirled.
“Not you. You do not get to visit my garden. Or my other garden, if you know what I mean. We’re done. I help your friend because an enemy of my enemy is my friend. I don’t help her for you.” And with that curt speech, she gestured for me to join her. “Hurry up.”
Giving Garret a wary look, I darted forward. I had to trust that she would stick to her word. Even if she couldn’t drain me dry of my life, she could still do some hefty damage with those damned teeth.
We rounded the far wall of the cavern through the wide opening, turning left. There, spreading out over a patch the size of a quarter acre, was a sunken garden of herbs. Irena lowered herself into the garden and I saw that the plants were growing in about three feet of water. I slid down the embankment into the thick beds. I wasn’t sure what the plants were—they looked as alien to me as the others at the bottom of the strait—but Irena appeared to know exactly what I was after. She led me halfway through one of the beds, then stopped by a delicate plant that resembled thistle, only it was brilliant blue and the prickles looked like soft hairs.
“Here—thistlestar. To counter the venom of the ghost snail, you will need more than a few leaves.” She began to strip the heads and leaves off several plants. I held out my bag for them, and she dropped them inside until the gallon-sized plastic bag was jammed full. Only then did she stop and rinse her hands in the water. She turned to me.
“You are a pretty one. If you were human, I’d love to drink you down, but then again, if you were human, you wouldn’t have the energy you do and that is so much of the allure.” Her voice was husky as she reached out and brushed my cheek, stroking her fingers down toward my mouth. “I can sense the pull of the ocean on you, yet you work…with fire?”
I nodded. “My strength lies in fire. But once, long ago, I was close friends with someone who rose out of the ocean. Her name was Fata Morgana.”
Irena froze, her fingers still against my cheek. She slowly withdrew her hand, cautiously stepping back. “Yes, that’s it. I can feel her there.”
“You know Fata Morgana?” I was about ready to pull out the small-world speech, but realized that Irena actually looked frightened. “What’s wrong?”
“Fata Morgana… I know who she is. If she loves you, you’re in danger. If she hates you, even more so. There are whispers and then there are legends. And sometimes the whispers are more deadly. Go, take your thistlestar and do not return here. Strike down the merfolk who attacked your friend. But just go.”
She hustled me back toward the edge of the garden and as I stumbled on my way up the short bank, she shoved me so that I was out and back on solid ground.
Once we were back at the shore, with another admonishment not to bother her again, she trundled us back into the water. Another fifteen minutes and we were back by the boat.
Garret hauled himself up onto the deck, then reached down and took the bag of thistlestar from me, and then helped me climb into the boat.
“What did you say to her? I’ve never seen her so eager to be rid of anybody without also being ready to kill them.”
“I told her I knew Fata Morgana.”
“I have no idea who that is, but if she scares Irena, then I guess I should be frightened, too.”
I said nothing else. Fata had a reputation, but I hadn’t realized it was so widespread. Or that she was so feared. There was reason to fear her, but Irena’s reaction had seemed overblown. Whatever the case, we had the thistlestar and Jordan could make the antidote. And then we could figure out what to do about the merfolk. Feeling unsettled, I lay back in the boat as Garret steered us back to Bedlam.