15. A Mermaid in a Pool

15. A Mermaid in a Pool

Looters were grabbing everything they could get their hands on. Ramorran caught sight of Esrell wrenching a hanging from a wall and rolling it up. Their gazes met and the youth grinned and winked at him as though they were friends, or at the very least allies. He pushed down his anger and strode on through the house, past men and women ransacking cupboards and snatching anything of value they could find. One pair were tilting an ornate chaise longue onto its edge to get it through a narrow doorway.

Ramorran was heedless of everything but what he'd come for. His skin might be kept anywhere and it was only instinct that carried him through the halls of Sixblades' house. If he hadn't misjudged the man entirely, it would be kept close to him, so close that...

He threw open a door and strode into the messy bedroom, assessing the contents rapidly. Covers were strewn half-on, half-off the bed, piles of clothes on the floor. The air smelled sour, the same way Sixblades now did. Ramorran's attention snagged on the bed as relief tore through him. Sixblades had kept it close.

He was barely aware of a pirate spilling through the door behind him.

"Has this room already been pilfered?" the voice behind him wondered. A gasp was followed by the delighted cry, "Furs!" The skinny pirate pushed past Ramorran, hands already reaching.

Ramorran grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him to an abrupt stop. The newcomer twisted to look quizzically at him. "Hands off!" he snapped. The man froze. "Don't touch it." Ramorran took a deep breath. He'd fight if he needed to, but the tone of his voice was enough.

The other man threw his hands up. "My apologies; the prize is yours if you saw it first." He turned to the cupboard beside the bed, glancing back to check Ramorran didn't object before yanking the door open and pawing through the contents.

Ramorran focused on the bed, pushing the covers aside. His knees weakened when his selkie skin was revealed, the silvery grey achingly familiar. His vision blurred and he sank his fingers into the thick pelt. He took a breath and felt as though it were the first unfettered inhalation he'd taken for months. Gathering the skin to his chest, pressing his face into its softness, he vaguely heard the skinny pirate clomp out of the room, prizes jingling as he went.

Ramorran straightened and cast a glance around the room. He needed... He strode to a dull, serviceable chest set beneath the window and kicked it open. There. Clean linens, because there was no way he was wrapping his skin in something that smelled like Sixblades. He yanked out a cotton sheet, dislodging mothballs with a shake. Smoothing it on the floor, he folded his skin reverently in the middle, wrapping the cotton to protect it then knotting it to form a sling he could carry across his back to keep it close and safe as he escaped this godforsaken place.

The welcome weight on his back, Ramorran strode from the room. On the threshold of the building he paused. When he'd escaped last time he'd been weighed by guilt for all those he'd left behind: the slaves he'd wanted to rescue but hadn't been able to. If he'd waited and formed a plan that included them, might he have secured his skin from the start? He shook his head. He couldn't change the past, but he could change today. This time, he wasn't leaving anyone – or anything – behind to endure Sixblades' cruelty.

~

Hakan wasn't panicking. He wasn't. He'd misplaced Ramorran, but it wasn't anything to worry about. Everything had grown hectic and confusing. The other man was on the island somewhere, it's just that he'd feel better if he knew exactly where...

He pushed through another room that had been thoroughly ransacked and strode onwards, scanning for a broad, six-foot-tall figure. They'd arrived together, they'd escaped together and by God they'd leave this forsaken island together.

Striding through a final door, Hakan found himself outside once more, fresh air cooling his skin while cries carried on the wind. He turned to see several figures toting booty down the path towards the jetty. It occurred to him that if he didn't seize his chance, he was going to leave with nothing.

But so long as he left with Ramorran and his skin, and they were all safe and whole, he didn't care for anything else. Hakan stopped as the significance of that hit him like a boom to the skull, Loula's words ringing in his mind. He cared for Ramorran more than treasure? When had that happened? What they had was ... a fun thing. Purely physical. Just passing the time. He shook his head. He was a pirate; he was made for easy-come, easy-go. Impermanence came with the territory. Fates, he barely even knew the man.

And none of that mattered. When Hakan had thought Sixblades would hurt Ramorran he'd felt as though his heart had frozen. Maybe... He sucked in a breath of cool night air and let his thoughts wander where they wished. Maybe he was only argumentative because he was at war with himself, trying to ignore his feelings for the other man. Maybe what he thought was anger was something very different indeed. Maybe, goddamn the woman, Loula was right.

He staggered forward, reaching blindly for a wall a couple of steps away, doubting suddenly that his legs would hold him up against the force of his sudden realisation. He'd fallen for Ramorran. He'd found a treasure so precious he had to keep it.

He took a deep breath, dizzy with the thoughts whirling through his head. He tried to laugh off his feelings, but what else was driving him to walk through chaos seeking out the other man when he could hurry to the jetty and take off instead? What was making him care nothing for the fact his arms were empty, because he only wanted to fill them with Ramorran himself?

Hakan straightened, noticing his surroundings. The wall he was leaning against was the side of some kind of barn. When he looked to the right he could see the door, thrown wide. Inside were pens holding all manner of animals. Correction, they had been holding animals. Now, they were thrown wide while a tall, very familiar, figure shooed the creatures towards the door and freedom.

A flock of brightly coloured birds spilled out, calling high-pitched cries as they flapped into the night air.

"Ramorran." He stepped into sight, the name leaving him on a gust of relief.

Ramorran looked up, arrested in the act of trying to shoo away a snowy white peahen pecking viciously at his ankles. He straightened, frowning. Hakan wasn't sure what his expression was broadcasting, and he suspected Ramorran didn't know, either. "If we leave them here they'll starve to death," Ramorran pointed out, as though Hakan had challenged him.

Hakan found himself smiling fondly. Ramorran cared more for the freedom of these poor creatures than for finding his property and escaping. What a complete sap. Ramorran was still watching warily. That would never do. Striding up to him, Hakan framed his face with both hands, pressing his lips to Ramorran's. The other man made a surprised sound, but he relaxed against Hakan's embrace, opening his mouth to Hakan's wordless entreaties. He tried to pour everything he felt into the kiss, but it was only a kiss, not made for weighty things. Hakan wasn't sure whether Ramorran recognised what he was trying to communicate.

He was breathing hard when they broke apart. Ramorran was even more beautiful than he remembered, moonlight gilding his hair and skin. He wrenched his thoughts to practicalities. "If they're safe," he gestured to the animals, "We should go."

Ramorran shook his head. "I still need to check in there." He gestured towards another low building that appeared to be an extension of the main house. "I won't leave anyone here."

Hakan watched Ramorran, took in his determined expression and changed what he was about to say. "We'd best be quick."

Ramorran's mulish expression relaxed. "Thank you." He smiled and Hakan felt as though he'd been punched in the chest, the gesture a reward more precious than gold.

Hakan fell into step as they hurried towards the silent building. "I'm not completely heartless, you know," he grumbled.

Ramorran put a shoulder to the door of the building. He glanced back at Hakan, but it was clear his attention was on what he might find inside. "You're a pirate and a thief," he said, as though reminding himself as much as Hakan. As though the happy smile had been a mistake. "And our agreement is at an end. I've got what I came here for. You... Well, your crewmates are free, that's the main thing."

"Shut up and let me help," Hakan swallowed the lump in his throat, ignoring the hollow that opened up in the pit of his stomach. He'd just kissed Ramorran with all his heart, as though he meant it – because he did mean it. But Ramorran hadn't got any of that from the kiss. And why would he? Hakan was the one who'd said they were only bedmates, nothing more. He'd set his course, and now he'd arrived in a harbour he didn't like at all.

The lock gave and the door spilled open. The smell of brackish seawater met them. Hakan was reminded of the story of Sixblades keeping a pet mermaid captive in a cage. But that had been Ramorran, and he'd never been a captive here. Sixblades had moved to the island after Ramorran had escaped.

A splash rang through the air, followed by a sound that raised the hairs on the back of Hakan's neck. Ramorran hadn't paused, and he hurried after him towards the smell and the unearthly noise that made him want to run in the opposite direction.

~

The smell struck Ramorran as soon as he opened the door. Memories flooded back, almost felling him with their intensity: pain and fear and the suffocating knowledge that he was trapped. His heart pounded against his ribs as though it were seeking a way out, desperate for the freedom that had been kept from him for so long. Balling his hands to stop them shaking, he stepped forward, ducking through an archway to a room illuminated by two lanterns fixed to opposite walls. In the middle of the room was a pool, different but exactly like the one that filled his nightmares.

Memories flooded through him and he had to focus to remember that he was here, now. And he was free. This was like the cage Sixblades had created for him, but it wasn't that place. He wasn't a prisoner any more. But someone else was.

A splash cut the air. A wordless, gargling cry pierced his heart. A figure lay on the floor beside the pool with their back to him, an arm outstretched into the water, their restless hand the source of the splashing sound. Horror surged through Ramorran. Sixblades had found another selkie to imprison.

"I've come to free you," he promised, stepping forward, the movement tentative, hands outheld. If this poor soul had been treated as he had, they doubtless expected more harm, or a trick of some sort. "Sixblades can't hurt you any more," he said softly, crouching. He reached out, heart thrumming in alarm. The prisoner leaped away at the touch, scrambling across the floor. Horror clawed at Ramorran's heart. "I won't hurt you," he promised. "I was Sixblades' prisoner too, but we're safe now."

Sixblades' captive reached the corner. She could go no further. She turned slowly. Her hair hung lank over her face. Disquiet rippled through him. In the torchlight, her hair was exactly the same colour as...

She looked up, hair parting to show a face Ramorran had only seen in his dreams for months. "Zelzie?" Nausea welled through him. This couldn't be true. His eyes had to be deceiving him. "Is it really you?" He reached out a hand, hoping the sense of touch might confirm the truth his eyes doubted.

His sister scratched viciously at his outheld arm, nails scraping his skin. She bared her teeth, then opened her mouth. Ramorran braced for a scream to abuse his eardrums, but a cracked whisper was all that left her mouth.

"Zelzie?" He backed away, giving her space, grabbing one of the lanterns to hold beside his face so she could see him properly.

Morry? He saw his pet name in the movement of her lips rather than hearing it as a sound.

Dropping to his knees, he held her terrified gaze. "It's me." He swallowed. "I've come to take you away; take you home."

She shook her head. Tears poured down her face. "Can't leave." The words cracked, almost silent, a whisper in place of the melodic tones he associated with his sister.

"I'll keep you safe." Her voice was worrying; Sixblades must have kept her in a gag. They'd be able to heal her once he got her home.

"No," she whispered, that same cracked husk of sound. She gestured to her throat. "Silenced. Kill me next time."

Ramorran went very cold even before he saw the brutal red line that dug into the flesh of her neck. She continued shaking her head. "No voice," she croaked. She looked up and the desolation in her expression told him all his worst fears had come true for Zelzie in this damp cage. "Sixblades stole my voice," she whispered.

"No." Ramorran hugged her close as the horror swept over him. Sixblades had crushed her vocal chords – which he'd known to do because Ramorran had escaped using his songs. Zelzie was probably only here because of him. Because he'd boasted that his pirate lover meant more than his family ever would and they'd never see him again. His beautiful little sister adored him, and she'd come after him.

And Ramorran hadn't been here to protect her.

"I'll keep you safe now," he vowed. He wrapped his arms tightly around her skinny shoulders, fury burning through his veins. Sound rose around him before he realised it was coming from him, naked emotion flowing through his voice.

"Ramorran—"

He ignored Hakan behind him, ignored everything but his baby sister weeping in his arms, destroyed by a man Ramorran had been fool enough to fall in love with. He tipped his head to the ceiling and roared, sound bursting out of him.

The walls of the building began to shake and he opened his mouth wider, singing a bitter song of pain and fury. Dust bloomed as the first wall fell.

"Ramorran!" He felt the warmth as Hakan crouched beside him, raising an arm to protect Zelzie. But he didn't pause. He only stopped when the last wall fell, panting as he blinked.

"Holy storms." Hakan was first on his feet. "What was that?"

Ramorran blinked, his focus slowly shifting from Zelzie in his arms, curled against his chest, her fingers twisted in his shirt. Between the dust and the darkness, it was hard at first to see what Hakan meant. He got to his knees and then to his feet without dislodging his precious burden. Then, he saw what Hakan meant. He hadn't just destroyed Zelzie's cage the way he'd intended. Sixblades' entire manor had been flattened. A stream of pirates was running away from the piles of rubble that had been the grand building a minute earlier.

Ramorran took a deep breath and turned to Hakan. "Yes. I did that." He hefted Zelzie closer and she looped her arms around his neck. It made him ache with memories from when they'd been children. "I only wish I'd done that first time around."

Hakan swallowed. "Sixblades is dead."

Ramorran stiffened, then gave a tight nod. "Thank you."

"I didn't—" But Ramorran wasn't listening. He strode in the direction of the jetty, sure-footed and holding his precious burden carefully despite the debris. Hakan hurried alongside. Silence bore down on them like a physical weight.