Chapter 22

"There. Look there. There as well."

After witnessing it in the woods, it was impossible not to notice, to fully understand, how each and every part of the merrow were used in the isolated confines of Moon Harbor.

The shining scales that decorated the homes, the streets. Shells dangling in long clattering chains and garlands over doorways, strung with silvery braids. The equally silver hair woven intricately into their fishing nets. Shimmering droplets of the moon embedded in carved woodwork around doorways and windows, around the edge of rowboats, tied into the same garlands that sagged heavy with shells and polished glass after the new moon celebration in the street. Shimmering powders on the peoples' eyes. Pieces of white fish-skin used as bandages on wounds. Minty-sweet fat used to fuel their lighthouse.

"It's no wonder I was alone when I returned."

Eridanys' words struck Alba like a punch to the chest, standing next to him on the edge of the town while the rest of the inhabitants slept beneath a dark sky catching early light of a rising sun. He couldn't stop his hand from reaching out to take Eridanys', squeezing it. Eridanys held it tightly, refusing to let go again.

"When we first spoke to them on the edge of the trees, I…" he continued, trailing off like he forgot himself, then closing his eyes and forcing himself to finish: "I didn't think they were dead. I thought perhaps they'd been cursed to stay there, or were choosing to hide because of something that happened with the people. I never thought… If I'd known, I wouldn't have been so…"

"You didn't know," Alba reiterated. He squeezed Eridanys' hand again. Not sure what to say, next. Not sure if Eridanys needed comfort, or someone to silently listen, or something else. He could only open his mouth and see what words came next.

"You should destroy this town," he whispered. Eridanys' eyes flickered to him in question. "The sea would listen to you, wouldn't she? Summon the water high enough to wash through every house. Up every street, so every stolen part of your kin can return to where they belong."

"But then you'll leave, too," Eridanys mumbled. Like he didn't mean to say it out loud, a thought he didn't know he'd ever have until that moment. Not unlike all the times he asked if Alba's leg felt alright, the words were spoken in uncertainty. Unsure why he felt that way, why something like that would eat at him in the first place.

He squeezed Alba's hand once more, like he thought Alba would vanish in that moment with the mention of it. As if he realized then, just as Alba did, that their agreement had technically come to an end. They'd found Eridanys' kin; they learned what happened to them. Perhaps that was why Alba didn't crumble to salt the moment he released Eridanys' hand during the ritual the night before. The siren's curse had been lifted.

But Alba didn't acknowledge it. Neither did Eridanys. They just stood there in silence, looking at one another as the wind whistled through the town, through the fluted pipes, making the distant waves crash and froth.

"Won't you leave, too?" Alba finally asked. "Without your kin here. Surely you won't stay?"

"And you?" Eridanys asked instead of answering. The words rushed out of him. "You'll go searching for your mother somewhere else, won't you?"

He sounded almost panicked. Alba just watched him for another long moment, before finally turning away. His heart raced. He didn't know. Yes. No. Not yet. As soon as possible. He—didn't know.

"Not today," was all he could think to respond. "I have to figure out where to go, first."

"She might have left a clue somewhere," Eridanys insisted. Alba nodded.

"I think so, too. Maybe even in the lighthouse, if she really did stay there before I did. I'll take a few days to look, I think."

"I'll stay with you," Eridanys added. Alba looked at him again, finding how the siren's eyes had never pulled away from him for a moment. "I'll keep the drowned souls from bothering you until you go."

Alba managed a weak smile. "Alright," he said. Grateful for those words. Unsure what else to say. Unsure how to put the sudden squeeze of his chest into words, only knowing they sounded an awful lot like ‘come with me.'

They walkedthe length of the black sand until cliffs got in their way, then crossed onto the exposed mud slowly soaking through with returning seawater as the tide crept back to where it belonged.

Eridanys invited Alba onto his back when the ground grew too slippery for him to walk with his cane, and Alba wrapped his arms securely around Eridanys' shoulders. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the encroaching sea and overhead gulls gliding by. The muted sun rose to tease the darkness away, distant clouds crowding the horizon with the return of Moon Harbor's constant rain.

"Do you know what they were singin'?" he asked as they reached the far edge of the lapping water, where Eridanys set Alba down just long enough to strip off his clothes so they wouldn't be ruined when his legs combined back into a tail. He pulled Alba back in place over his shoulders before answering, stepping into the water toward the lighthouse in the distance.

Alba didn't know exactly when the man's glamoured legs formed back into a tail, but sensed the shift in force against the water. He steeled his arms around Eridanys' neck, hiding his face in the man's hair against the cold spray.

"It was a song of blessing," Eridanys answered after gathering his bearings. "Thanking the gods for their benevolence, praying for more, showing humility to those who may have been harmed in the giving of a gift."

Had he not already been pierced to the bone with the chill of the water, Alba's blood would have gone cold.

"And which god would believe that, exactly?" He spat, partially from the bitterness in his gut, partially against the saltwater infiltrating his mouth. Eridanys didn't answer right away, suddenly coming to a stop and treading water. Alba felt the swaying of a strong tail moving effortlessly below him, making him shivering in intimidation.

"Would you like to see?" Eridanys asked over the waves. They were just within reach of the lighthouse rocks, making Alba frown.

"Don't you dare take me to your sea-obscura?—"

Eridanys laughed, shaking his head and patting Alba's arm wrapped around him. "No, not that far. Hold on tight, sailor. I think a morning spent in the merrow baths sounds refreshing."

"The what?—?"

But Eridanys was already grabbing Alba's cane and his own spare clothes, tossing them at the nearest clump of grass beneath the lighthouse, before adjusting his trajectory and cutting back into the heart of the water.

Still clinging around his neck, seawater swelled relentlessly over Alba's shoulders, especially once they skirted past the breakwater of the harbor and into rougher seas. He felt every catch and release of the strong muscles of Eridanys' shoulders and back, straining his own arms with every pull forward. Eridanys' partially-webbed fingers reached up to grasp briefly at Alba's arms encircling him every few minutes, as if checking to see if he was still there. As if Alba didn't weigh enough to be sensed any other way.

The water dipped further in temperature as the clouds swept in faster than Alba expected, swallowing up the brief sunlight offered by the new moon. The sea appeared equally furious as it rushed back toward the shore, waves angrily beating against the jagged rocks of the cliffs, deafening with every crash like banging war drums. Alba watched the flaring whitecaps as each wave smashed and curled over itself, sensing how Eridanys' strokes moved in time with each one.

Despite the sea's thrashing, Alba never felt a moment of anxiety, even though everything in his instincts insisted otherwise. Eridanys' tight body, the shifting of his muscles, the clear show of strength with every passing moment, would have eased a sense of calm into even the most frightened of swimmers.

They continued down the rocky shoreline until the jutting stone grew into terraced cliff sides, like steps used by giants to crawl onto land. Eridanys came to an unexpected stop, bobbing up and down over a swelling wave that proceeded to crash against the stone cliffs a few hundred yards away. Alba pulled away from where he barnacled against the siren's back, but even then nothing stood out to him.

"There's a cave lagoon on the other side of those cliffs," Eridanys said, using a finned finger to point. "If you look closely, you can see where glass windows set in the stone reflect the clouds. Just there, to the left of that little tree on the edge. Do you see?"

Alba squinted, but siren eyes must have been better than human ones, because he saw no glass window in the stone nor any little tree clinging to the edge of the rocks. Eridanys might have also been teasing him, for some reason or another, and Alba nearly accused him of such before Eridanys touched his arms again. That time, holding them tightly. Locking them into place.

"The only way in is through an entrance beneath the surface, about a dozen feet down. You'll have to hold your breath, but it shouldn't be too long. Especially not for a seasoned sailor like you, right?"

"Wh-what?" Alba gasped. "No! You're not gonna fool me like that?—"

"I'm not fooling you," Eridanys insisted, allowing incoming waves to draw them closer to the cliffs, keeping back just before they were smashed with the force of a fully-sailed ship. "You're just going to have to trust me."

Alba didn't answer, he didn't know how, just tightening his arms until he was nearly choking the siren.

"Don't you dare drown me," he threatened into Eridanys' ear. "I'll haunt you for every day you're still alive."

"Promise?"

Alba scoffed—barely getting another a chance to suck in a final breath before the sea decided for him. A giant wave crashed overhead, thrusting Eridanys under.

Alba nearly lost his grip, grappling to keep his armfuls of Eridanys' shoulders, not wanting to be slammed against the rocks and split his head open. Eridanys' hands grasped at him in return, locking Alba securely in place, wiping all his apprehension away in an instant.

Alba held his breath for as long as he could, taught how to balance his lungs and his panic from all the previous times he'd gone overboard—but diving down then navigating into the dark cave Eridanys described took longer than he expected. The freezing water didn't help, the effort required to cling to Eridanys didn't help—and he nearly choked down a lungful of water against his will, had they not suddenly ascended like a bolt and burst through the surface into a pocket of air.

Gasping, he still inhaled some water despite his best efforts, immediately coughing as his eyes snapped open. Searching in every direction of where they'd emerged, the sight left him breathless in a different way, mouth dropping open in awe.

A cathedral of stone and moss, crawling vines carpeting the domelike ceiling and reflecting off the bluest water Alba had only ever seen trapped in the deepest reaches of northern glaciers. Birds chittered between the rock and the greenery, a handful bathing in smaller pools along the walls that fed into lower bowls, stepping down and down before spilling into the main basin where he and Eridanys had surfaced. Waves from the other side of the stone crashed against the rocks, gallons of water spilling in through man made holes in the face to fill the basins and tumble into the pools below. It smelled of fresh water and verdant greenery Alba had always associated with home, since there was nothing like it in the north. The rush of familiarity was so strong it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Somewhere on the other side of the fog of his amazement, Eridanys chuckled, splashing a handful of water into Alba's face.

"Taste it," he said. "It's fresh."

"Fresh? How?" Alba mimicked in disbelief, skimming his fingers over the surface before cupping some to drink. Eridanys wasn't lying—the water was crisp, even slightly sweet, like something straight from the heart of the mountain. As he scooped another mouthful, his eyes followed where Eridanys next pointed to the stacked bowls where the birds bathed themselves.

"Merrow magic in those bowls. Filters out the salt. Usually it"s gathered later for ritual spellcraft, or to trade with humans who need it for their own magic, but, ah, you can see where it's been spilling over the edges and building up after being neglected for so long."

Alba nodded in curiosity, then had to grapple for the nearest ledge of moss-covered stone, not anticipating how sore and exhausted his arms were from clinging to Eridanys' through the open waves. He lost his grip the moment he tried to pull himself from the water, groaning as he emerged again with a cough. Eridanys laughed, watching as Alba struggled to heave himself up a second time, finally placing his hands within the curves of Alba's waist to lift him out of the water with ease. Alba just crawled on his hands and knees over the soft moss before collapsing face-first into it with a relieved sigh.

His tense muscles finally relaxed, fully unraveling and leaving every inch of him trembling in both exhaustion and the chill of the air. He only lifted his head again at the sound of the siren splashing back beneath the surface, finding his moonlit companion gone. It compelled him to crawl to the edge of the rocks, mouth hanging open in another flush of awe when he realized exactly how deep the caves stretched beneath the pool.

Every inch of the submerged cavern was intricately carved. Archways, columns, balustrades swirled with sea-inspired motifs, walls were adorned with carpets of sea-grass and barnacles, tapestries of carved stone mosaics decorated with painted pigments and shining abalone shells. A city beneath that dome of air where Alba gazed from, a separate realm from his own where merrow and sea-monsters lived and lurked. For the most part it sat unmoving—until a single streak of moonlight caught his eye, racing in and out of openings in the stone, between columns, under and over archways at a speed Alba never would have imagined before meeting Eridanys. His siren moved so fast, especially in the deepest reaches of the water where no tide could pull back on him. To witness it was equally unsettling as it was mesmerizing.

Once Eridanys vanished through an entryway in the stone and didn't emerge for a few minutes, Alba was finally able to break his attention away and back to where he'd been left on a bed of moss like the siren's dinner. Searching the walls and high ceilings of that domed cavern, the carvings were far less adorned, but he spotted some the closer he looked. Managing to get to his feet—stiffly, without his cane to help him—he limped carefully over the thick mossy surface to see for himself.

Lines like ocean waves swirled in and over one another; sea life and shells; strings of pearls were interwoven with lines that could have been the tide or endless locks of merrow hair. Alba followed them down the length of the wall, smiling to himself when the images eventually spilled into a larger genre scene interspersed with characters, with a story.

A pack of merrow in the sea; peeking out from beneath the surface; offering a handful of shells to a human on the docks; intermingling, merrow in the water and humans on the shore, hands held in a circle; an abundance of fish brought by the permanent residence of them in the harbor, where humans could fish and eat with plenty; a human and a merrow intertwined with one another on an altar as a circle of onlookers smiled and raised their hands in celebration; a funeral procession that ended at the edge of the water beneath a full moon, where the deceased was tossed into the waves and reborn with a tail and moon-kissed scales…

Alba's fingers hesitated on that final piece of the tapestry, something about it making his heart squeeze, though he didn't know what exactly the emotion was. The image was both foreboding and wistful. To be reborn as a merrow after a human death.

He couldn't help but think of his mother, wondering if she once put her hands up in celebration while a human and merrow mated with one another on an altar—perhaps to become callers of one another. Did she exchange shells and pearls with the mer-people off the edge of the docks, too? Did she know those same merrow were being cut open in the woods on the new moon, harvested like fruits from the earth?

There was no painting of that horrible ritual anywhere on the wall. Did the merrow even know what the humans did with their kin in the dark? When the moon wouldn't be there to see? When the new moon was supposed to be a time of celebration and dancing and singing out for the moon to wake from her rest, like Eridanys once told him? What those cloaked figures did in the woods—even Eridanys had been shocked. Even Eridanys had shed a tear at the realization of why his kins' spirits were trapped in there. They'd even said something to imply it was his fault, that something he did was the reason—but what did they mean?

"Something caught your interest?"

Alba jumped, turning quickly just as the siren heaved himself up onto the edge of the mossy stone, shoulders and arms bulging with the weight of himself. His long white tail remained intact, draped in the water as the wide, opalescent fins at the end waved lazily above and below the surface.

"What is this place?" Alba asked, pushing his disquieting thoughts away. "You called them merrow pools, but they look more like some kind of flooded ruin?"

"Ruin?"Eridanys asked, taking a moment to comb fingers through his long, wet hair, like every siren did in old human drawings. Beautiful and mesmerizing, as they were always said to be, as if it was Alba's first time seeing him. "Not human ruins like I know you're thinking, no. These are merrow-made."

Alba nodded. Sailors told stories and sang songs about mer-peoples' palaces beneath the sea, though Alba only ever thought them true as much as his mother insisted. He couldn't resist pointing to the series of carvings depicting the merrows' history with the town, a silent question as Eridanys' eyes skimmed each part with furrowing brows. As if having to remind himself after so long at sea, and not being particularly thrilled about it.

"What of it?" he mumbled, turning away with fingers still in his hair, braiding tiny plaits and pulling pieces from where they tangled in the strands of pearls. His tail splashed in agitation a few times. "A honeyed story told in drawings where everyone is smiling and cheering. You of all people know how easy it is to depict something terrible as something beautiful with enough color and flowers and grinning faces."

"Sure," Alba answered. He bit his lip, deciding to pick his battles and returning to where Eridanys sat on the edge of the rock. There were other things to see, after all. He didn't need to spend so much time dwelling on parts that would only sour his siren's mood.

Unbuttoning his shirt, kicking off his boots, Eridanys watched Alba undress with an eyebrow raised in question. Alba stripped off his trousers and underwear last, pulling his braid loose from the plait before sucking in a deep breath and stepping off the edge into the crisp, clean water. Without the salt to burn his eyes, he opened them in the dull light, sinking as far as expelling the air from his lungs would take him. Wanting a closer look at the stunning formations below.

Unsurprised when a moonbeam suddenly circled then swam up alongside him, Alba smiled, pointing down at the rest of the cavern eagerly. Eridanys followed his finger before nodding back, expression curious. He then reoriented himself, and Alba couldn't resist reaching out to touch his tail, not expecting the siren to startle like a cat. A flurry of bubbles erupted from Alba's mouth as he burst out laughing, having to throw out his arms and kick back to the surface again to cough and catch his breath. Eridanys followed, peering at him with his eyes narrowed in agitation.

"I know you're a fast swimmer," Alba said, breathless and wiping spit from his chin. "Could you take me to the bottom to get a closer look? Then back up again before I suffocate? I wanna see."

Eridanys cocked an eyebrow before lifting his head slightly more to expose his mouth.

"There is much more to see than your tiny lungs would be able to hold."

"We'll make more than one trip," Alba insisted. "Just show me your favorite spots. You're obviously familiar with this place. C'mon. Humor me. Oh, unless you really aren't as fast as I thought..."

Eridanys' hand lashed out, grabbing Alba's wrist with a tight smile. "Alright, sailor. How long can you really hold your breath?"

Alba barely had a chance to inhale through a sharp laugh, before Eridanys dragged him under.

Chest-to-chest, the siren held Alba securely in place, meaning all Alba had to do was wrap his arms around the back of his neck to remain upright. He kept his face hidden in the crook of Eridanys' neck as they descended, the growing chill of the water making his cheeks burn, only pulling away once they balanced out again. Blinking open his eyes, another small wave of bubbles escaped Alba's mouth at the up-close sight.

Embedded with flakes of silver and gold, iridescent scales from more fish than Alba could count, shining abalone shells, opalized stones and crab shells, the mosaic was larger than he was, depicting what he thought might be the merrow's creation story. Some mythological figure, a scene he would be sure to ask for an explanation of the moment they returned to the air.

A finned goddess encircled by the moon and all her lunations in a crown behind her. A flock of moon-white merrow encircling a massive whale-like creature with another halo of moon phases behind its head, fins extended and raining down fish and shells and silver over them. A bountiful offering from a god to its people; and in it, nowhere were there any humans to take part—until Eridanys took Alba's hand, flattening his palm within the center of the whale's crown, where his fingers were surrounded with silver riches and beams of moonlight.

He turned, meeting Eridanys' eyes. Even in such low light, the siren glowed like the moon herself; brighter than the mosaic, more stunning than even the goddess depicted there. It left Alba breathless, even more than the water that refused him air. And such a beautiful, breathtaking thing—was looking right back at him, as if there was a chance in the world Eridanys could ever think the same of someone like Albatross Marsh.