A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 58-A Monster Behind the Mask

Ares

Everything hurt, my head, my shoulders, and my back smarted as if I had been drug along the craggy bottom of the sea floor. To make matters worse, as I open my eyes, I can barely see the flickering light of a rouge lantern through the rough cloth sack pulled over my head. Dread eddies in my stomach, the dregs of sleep washing away once the chafing texture of rope against the flesh of my wrists, confirms my worst fear.

"No," I say barely above a whisper, wanting to deny what the presence of these bonds entails. Praying silently to the mothers that my current state is all the trappings of a horrid dream. Except, the sound of creaking wood, the overpowering scent of salty brine, and my seated position on a hard chair, only reaffirms that this is all real.

"No!" I roar, trying in vain to throw myself from the chair, only to find that my body has been bound tightly to its frame. But I press on, twisting and wrenching within the bonds, fighting for the chance to break free from here. To tear into the flesh of the ones foolish enough to hold me captive. To find Arcus and Zola, the only two male Mer I could ever trust in a life where I must always be strong, never weak, never prey, but a predator that can never be stopped. A Mer that protects his family, his pod, and his mate without question, and I have failed to do so.

Failed Corintha for letting myself fall into this predicament. Destroyed the honor of my family, by not suspecting, not seeing, that another predator was circling around me. That found that single moment, where I let my guard down, let myself be lulled by the humans' illusion of festivity and celebration. How foolish am I to believe that all would end in peace for us? That all would be smooth sailing onward, back to our home where all our futures could finally be created.

What thoughts were those? The thoughts of a dreamer who believed he had finally prevailed, a warrior deserving of the fruits of his labor. A warrior, I realize, that I am not. Underserving of the safety of home, of a glorious welcome. Even worse and perhaps harsher, is now I do not even think I am deserving of Corintha's loving touch for my greiveious folly.

Sorrow and anger contorts inside my heart, my efforts to free myself proving futile, forcing me to settle back down into the chair. I search my memories to find where I might have slipped up, but all I can recall before now, is handing Corintha a glass of sugary punch and heading out onto the terrace with Zola and Arcus. My memory goes hazy after that, snippets of conversation with Captain Odessa, the slight bitterness to the sweet citrus tang of the drink in my hand, and a sudden struggle to keep my eyes from closing. It is all black after that, nothing to indicate who is behind my captivity, and how they were able to get the drop on me.

"Ugh," a familiar voice mutters, not far from me. "Why does my head hurt like the time I ran into a tree?"

I can't help but smile as I twist my head in the direction of the voice. Zola's snarky and completely idiotic tone, that I thought I would never hear again. "Zola, by the mothers please tell me that's you," I gasp, hoping I am not already hearing voices.

"Oh, it's him alright," Arcus huffs from the other side of me, his voice rough and gravely. "I would know the sound of him complaining anywhere."

"Well," Zola huffs back, the groaning whine of a chair creaking denoting him fidgeting in his own ropey prison. "I think I have the right. Since I'm tied to this horribly constructed chair, a bag that smells like horse shit is draped over my eyes, and to top it all off, someone stole my lucky dice!"

"Your dice?" I mutter, twisting against my bonds to face the direction of his voice. "Your worried about your fucking dice, when Corintha and the others could be in trouble! Whose to say that whoever is behind this, knocked us out so they could get to the girls and Lucas."