A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 34-Explanations

Ares

"Shit!" I yell, grabbing hold of the side of my head and falling onto the water covered deck.

"My goodness Ares," Corintha cries, for once crouching next to me with concern lined into her sunburned face. "Are you alright, who threw that?"

Rubbing my head, I watch as a familiar encroaching figure casts a shadow on the ship's rail. As Arcus and Adila lower the anchor down into the water, and Octavia and Zola throw the docking ropes onto the jutting wooden walkway.

"Madame Costa," I mutter, grunting as I get back up. Without another word, I stride over to the side of the ship and leap over the wooden rail, onto the old weathered dock. Looking up, I find the owner of the rouge sandal. Hands on her hips, Madame Costa glares at me in irritation while tapping her bare tanned foot. Rouge wisps of black and iron gray hair, blow in the breeze against her aged but fearsome face.

"I see you have collected more scars to add to your collection," she points out, reminding me of the last few days' adventures. "I would be worried, but you sea lovers heal quick enough don't you, with your specials plants and salts. However, I do hope that they were not caused by you lads' recklessness."

I chuckle at her comment, while grabbing the heap of mooring ropes from the ship and securing them to the dock. "Not this time Madame," I answer, yanking on the rope wrapped round the mooring post to make sure the knots are good and tight. "Just a few hazards of living in highly sought after territory."

Turning back to her, I find a disbelieving expression on the stubborn old woman's wrinkling face. I huff a sigh, brushing back my greasy hair just as the dock shakes from the impact of a body.

"What you mean is that us being injured could not be helped," Corintha hisses from behind me, stalking past with Madame Costa's rouge sandal in her grip. "Here Madame, I believe you misplaced this," Corintha says, holding out the shoe towards the human.

Madame Costa jerks back a step as she takes in Corintha. With a bewildered gaze, the elderly human looks up and down at what is in her eyes a terrifying myth. The locks of long blood colored hair, the lean muscle of Corintha's bare arms and neck. Her tall willowy frame, the sharpness of her face, and the ever present predatory gleam in her eye. The aspects of every female Mer, built to be deceiving, harsh, protective, and deadly. To the humans that is, as female Mer are made to protect themselves and their young, no matter the cost.

As if sensing her shock, Corintha lowers her hand and cocks her head to the side. Watching the woman's fascinated expression, and picking out the nervous tension in every twitch of Madame Costa's body.

"She has never seen a female of our kind before, has she?" Corintha asks, settling her brown-green gaze upon me. "Did you at least tell her we were coming?"

An easy grin springs up on my face, mostly from the way her little nose twitches in irritation. I was right to choose her, but most of all to never forget the quick thinking mind of hers, or her talent with a well placed claw or blade.

"Yes I did," I mutter, meeting her annoyed gaze with my own intimidating version. "And to answer your first question she has not met a female Mer before. But I told her you three would be coming, and promised her that you specifically would not stir up any type of trouble.
Unless it is absolutely necessary of course."

Corintha eyes me up and down, in that fearful yet assessing gaze of hers. Her brow furrowed, eyes slitted, lips pressed tight, and her stance defensive yet threatening all at once. "Of course," she growls, voice going flinty as the rest of our motley crew steps off the ship and onto the dock. "We wouldn't want any more problems besides my brother being held hostage."

With that, she drops the sandal and strides down the dock with long drawn out steps. Octavia and Adila follow after her, making Madame Costa's eyes widen even further as the wild haired menace and doll like viper brush on past.

"My, my," she whispers, clutching her chest and breathing in quick spurted gasps. "You did not do them justice in your letter lad. They are far more beautiful than the purest stones, and graceful as any dancer. But, their presence is otherworldly, sharp, and menacing. Much will have to be done to teach them the ways of human women, and we have so little time to do it."