Lost Souls

Chapter 9

The days, weeks, and months following Faye's death blurred together until the most manageable routine became difficult. Her funeral came and went—a haze of tears, voices, and crowds—and (if such a thing was possible) I retreated further into myself. I hardly slept or ate; I barely left my suite. Occasionally, someone would knock on my door or try to reach out through a note, but I never responded.

It was about three months after her funeral that I finally forced myself to get out of the palace. If only to do something about the emptiness inside me. I swam with no particular destination in mind and surprised myself when I stopped in front of two familiar graves—ones I hadn't visited in quite some time. The inscriptions, worn by time and erosion, were illegible, but I knew them by heart.

Here lies Carla Sydney Mercer, a light in the darkness and a soul whose life was taken from these waters too soon. May she feel no pain as her soul rests for eternity.

Here lies Arabella Grace Mercer, a light in the darkness and a soul whose life was taken from these waters too soon. May she feel no pain as her soul rests for eternity.

With a single breath, the tears that were starting to gather in my eyes streamed down my cheeks as I shuddered. I paused before the former's grave, brushing a hand against the smooth stone. Out in the open—with only endless seafloor and the occasional sea creature to witness my outburst—I took a deep breath, then screamed as loud as possible.

My hands trembled when I sank to the seafloor, clenching my fists at my sides as I bowed my head, struggling to contain the turmoil inside me. Anger, grief, sorrow, and agony fought for control of my emotions, all centering on that image of Faye laying motionless in the hospital bed. "It's all my fault," I whispered, my voice breaking as the horrible truth finally came out.

I kept my eyes on Carla's gravestone, focusing on my breathing. After a few minutes, I slowly regained my composure, enough to swim away from the gravestones and the memories they evoked. I surprised myself again when I stopped before the Bronze Mermaid a few minutes later. That emptiness was still clawing at me—attempting to consume me—but it dawned on me a heartbeat later that I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten an actual meal.

Taking another deep breath, I exhaled slowly before opening the door to sensory overload: the clink and clatter of cutlery and plates, the rising chatter of the customers, the shouts in the kitchen between cooks and servers. Memories of Faye threatened to overwhelm me, but I shoved against them with everything I had.

I forced myself to swim calmly to a table and sit, clasping my trembling hands in my lap as I stared at nothing. No one immediately approached me, and I made no attempts to bring attention to myself. It was only when I heard a soft voice speak up from near me that I lifted my head. "Welcome to the Bronze Mermaid. My name is Adriana, but you can call me Ani. What can I get for you today?"

I felt a tiny piece of my heart slowly heal at the sight of her gray eyes, widening with recognition as something caused me to look up at her. Whether it was the gentleness in her voice or merely the fact that she was the first mermaid to speak to me outside of our family since the funeral, I didn't know.

I blinked at her as I took a deep breath, then cleared my throat. When I responded, my voice was hollow. "Um, lobster and a bubble tea, please." The words hadn't even finished echoing before my stomach growled. I gave her a weak, sheepish smile as she nodded, stifling a laugh.

She swam away, a glimmer of laughter shining in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder before turning away. I blew out a heavy breath when I rubbed my eyes. Stifling a yawn, I looked to my left as motion caught my eye. An old, temperamental merman swam over to the table, sympathy on his face as he looked down at me. "Hey, Drew. How're you holding up?"