Hart of the Sea

Chapter 16

The Outskirts.

Large human waste deposits were scattered throughout the Outskirts, which made it the prime location to swim into sizable congregations of feral Sifters.

I wasn't in the mood for dealing with Sifters, not after that long, exhausting swim. I just wanted a place to rest my fins. The Sifters weren't a threat or anything, but they tended to be more aggressive and territorial than the average mer. So, the average mer tended to avoid the Outskirts altogether.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, shuddering as I caught sight of a small group of Sifters fighting over a large piece of some human building material. From this distance, I couldn't exactly tell what it was.

"You'll see," Peitha replied without looking at me. She grabbed my hand and led me down into the valley, heading straight for a Sifter encampment.

"No. No. Peitha, I changed my mind. Let's go," I growled into her ear, trying to pull away from her again, but still it was futile. She ignored me, and didn't let go of my hand even when we'd reached the area where a lone Sifter was swimming around, their tattered gray cloak drifting along behind them. Their back was turned to us as they pawed through meager scraps of a human trash material I had no name for, mixed in with small pieces of driftwood, scrap metal, and what looked to be shredded flax fiber, the same material as my blanket.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, hoping it was low enough that the Sifter couldn't hear me. I tried to free my hand from Peitha's grasp, but she only gripped tighter as we came up right behind the Sifter.

"I'm back," Peitha said quietly. "And I brought him."

The Sifter abruptly stopped searching through the pile of scraps and turned around slowly. Their small, bony hands reached up to the hood of their cloak and pulled it down off their head.

Wisps of bright brown hair flowed out around her head. Her slim, crystal blue tail swished weakly back and forth, creating little disturbance in the water around her. I could tell by her face that this Sifter was older than Peitha and I, but still young, although her forehead wrinkles might convince an onlooker otherwise. She looked as though she had aged from stress rather than time, but her deep blue eyes still had a youthful light to them. When she spoke, her voice was coarse; tired.

"Is...is it really you, Caspian?"

"H-How do you know my n-name?" I spluttered in disbelief. The Sifter turned her timeless eyes to Peitha.

"You didn't tell him?" Her tone was more confused than accusatory.

I furrowed my brows, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Okay, what's going on, Peitha?"

The Sifter watched, her eyes glinting with amusement, as Peitha stumbled for the right words. "Well, you see, I said this wasn't something I could just tell you about, that I'd have to show you, because I don't think you would have believed me otherwise-,"

"Peitha, it's okay. I'll tell him," The Sifter said, a small laugh behind her words. But when she looked back at me, it appeared as though her face might crumple with a sob at the flick of a tail fin. She took a deep, shaky breath before speaking again. "Caspian Delmare Muriel Hart...it's me...your mother. Remora."  

"Wh-What?" I breathed. It felt as though a dolphin had swam into me with full force, knocking the breath right out of my lungs. I turned towards Peitha. "You didn't think a little heads-up would've been nice?" I growled. I immediately felt guilty for raising my voice at her. I just felt so much emotion at once bubbling up inside me and I didn't know how to process it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to explain it. I didn't think you'd believe me if I just told you," Peitha said, crossing her arms.

I inhaled. Then exhaled. Then I looked back at the Sifter that was supposedly my long-lost mother, staring back at me with a patiently expectant expression. "Prove it," I said finally. "Prove you're really Remora. Prove you're my biological mother."