A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 60-What We Do for Love Part 2

The jungle welcomed us with its calm, warm, and dark embrace. Our route taking us through hunting trails, dozens of small streams filled with fish, and down towards and abandoned stretch of beach just a mile away from the edge of Port Valor's docks. As always we are silent as we prepare for the rescue, with the assurance of blood being spilt.

Our booted feet take us to a collection of spindly trees, their massive roots poking out of the earth and curving up into the trunks. It is in the center of these trees that we place down our sacks, and swiftly change into thin dresses of durable sea silk, the color of fresh ichor black tar. Amidst the tree roots, we hide our human clothes, jackets, and boots. Keeping only the belts, arm, and leg sheathes outfitted with plenty of skin slicing daggers.

"What is that Adila?" Octavia asks, narrowing her eyes at the suspicious brown flask cradled in Adila's delicate fingers.

"Not to worry Tavi," Adila crows, sliding the slim bottle into a convenient slot on her belt. "It's just some experimental oil old Morzan has been working on. Supposedly it burns hotter than whale oil, and ignites quite easily even if the objects have been nearly drowned in sea water."

"And how do you know this?" I question, giving Adila a conspiritol smirk. "Did you by chance peruse his storage shed before we left home?"

"On the contrary, darling friend of mine," she utters, taking a leather cord and tying her hair back away from her face. "Morzan gave it to me for special circumstances as a thank you for being the only one brave enough to help him with the forge."

"Because your the only one crazy enough to be near it when something explodes," Octavia mutters, cinching her belt tight above her hips.

"I'm not crazy," Adila replies, brushing off imaginary sand from her arms before stretching out her back and leg muscles. "The whole lot of you are just scared little guppies when it comes to a bit of flame and smoke."

"Regardless," I cut in, stalking towards the waves crashing upon the shore, my fingers wrapped around the thick leather of the belt cinched above my hips. "We have a job to do, and that oil will be of use. Now, let's go save our trouble making lovers shall we."

Without a moment's hesitation, I run out into the oncoming surf and dive into the calm waters of the night. At once, my eyesight adjusts to the utter blackness of the ocean as my tail forms with the eruption of scales upon my flesh. Once again, I feel the strength of my tail move me through the water faster than any human vessel. Through the dim gloom of the sea, I gaze upon the ocean floor and find the beauty that lies far below the water's surface.

As the rocky shallows give way to the vast sea bottom, my eyes look on at the valleys and hills of treasures far below. The remains of ships, tossed and thrown like a child's toy, lie forgotten and ruined under the scant light from the glowing moon above. Algae, muscles, and coral festoon the ancient masts, rudders, and hulls. A macabre riot of decorative sea life that will soon cover them all.

A white glittering blur passes me by, when I stop to gaze down at a golden statue of a helmeted woman, half covered in layers of luminous algae and a multitude of fan shaped pink coral. I latch my sights on the white fast moving form, only to let out a stream of bubbles as I chuckle at Octavia rushing to great a pod of slim gray dolphins.

Her dress half covering her tail, but not entirely hiding the white scales traveling all the way down to her pearlescent fins. Her hair flutters around her like a halo of pure moonlight, all while the dolphins chitter and whirl around her body, inspecting her from all sides like a rare and precious jewel.

From the moment I met Octavia, I knew I would never feel alone. Like me, she never fit in with the other Mer girls. Not for anything she had done, but for what she could not help. She could not help that her father was from one of the more peaceful pods of the North. Though her brothers did not let the whispers and stares bother them, Octavia could not. Especially when her father, Esvar, broke his arm while hunting and the way it healed left him unable to work as he use to.