No Time for a Selfie, and Other Stories

Seeking the Seahorse

“Sharks will smell your blood, dearie. Come into the water.”

“What?” Blood loss had made Marian dizzy. Thunder roared over her rocking canoe. She wasn't sure she had heard the mermaid correctly. “Sharks?”

The silver-haired mermaid slid off a ledge at the base of a rocky cliff. She swam up to Marian's canoe, and grabbed her arm. “Come, dear. Capsize.”

“I need help. Healing. I'll pay you.”

“Enter the water, pirate.” The mermaid dragged Marian's hand toward the choppy waves.

The canoe tipped. Marian fell, splashing into the water. Blood from her injuries turned the waves pink. She tried to pull away, but the mermaid dragged her under the water.

Marian held her breath and didn't struggle until her lungs ached. They surfaced in a cave, lit by a dim slash in the rocky ceiling. Lightning flashed outside, and raindrops spattered down. She took deep breaths, shaking. “What was that about sharks?”

“Calm yourself, dearie. Sharks can't fly in here. The hole in the ceiling is too small.” The mermaid began to massage Marian's chewed up arm.

“The sharks are flying? They're not in the water?”

“All the fish have left the water, and sharks are a type of fish. Weren't you attacked by a shark?”

“No, ma'am, a barracuda. In the storm. But I was on land, near our shipwreck. I fought it with a cutlass. It was swimming through the air. The captain killed it.”

“Mmm.” The mermaid poked her fingers through a gash in Marian's shirt and began to rub her torn shoulder. “Which captain?”

Her shoulder tingled. The cuts on her arm had closed. She still felt dizzy. “Captain Evans.”

“Is he that handsome black fellow, who smells like a werewolf?”

Marian smiled, remembering Captain Evans loping into camp that morning as a wet black wolf. He had leaped up and bitten into the barracuda's gills. “That's him. He saved my life.”

“Does he need healing also?” The mermaid smiled and stroked a bite on Marian's neck, closing it.

“No, he's fine.” Marian's dizziness changed to an overwhelming desire to remain in the watery cave, and forget the captain and crew. The mermaid's healing magic felt wonderful.

“Has he always been a werewolf?”

“Huh?” Marian shook her head, trying to stay focused. She had heard that the captain had once been married, but his very proper wife had divorced him after his wolfbite infection. “Captain Evans never talks about his past. And I'd rather talk about the fish. Why are they swimming through the air? Why don't they suffocate? And did they cause the horrible storms?”

“Oh, most fish can't fly on their own. They need magic, which also keeps them from suffocating. Turn around.”

Marian turned. The mermaid began to rub her back, an ecstatic pleasure. She needed to resist such feelings. She thought of the recent shipwreck, her share of the lost cargo, and several injured friends. The enchantment faded from her mind. “This storm, is it from your magic?”