Submerged: The Mer Chronicles

There Are Other Ways to Live

This is the weekly update. I will not have internet this weekend, so wanted to post early for you all. Enjoy! :) 

Saatchi and Nikko’s voices echoed off the cavernous walls, as I dove farther below the surface, propelling myself through the ocean, slipping through the water like it was second-nature.

Their calls surrounded me leading me forward, but I knew from the direction of their voices that I wasn’t being called to their underwater cave. The grotto below water was closed to me now, at least while I had the wire on, of that much I was certain. Besides, its not like I would have went to their actual home anyway. Secrecy was key; evading Prescott’s feeble attempt at tracking me below the ocean was paramount to the success of my plan.

After all, the ocean was vast, so much more than humans were even aware, more than Prescott was aware. Tracking systems might be able to tell the Aramours my location but actually finding me thousands of feet below the surface would be an altogether different challenge, especially under the veil of darkness known only to the depths of the sea. 

Plus, my gut told me where Saatchi and Nikko’s voice would lead. The hidden underwater canyon known as The Valley of Souls. But, it was far off, at least a night’s swim from Saatchi and Nikko’s home. Stories were whispered of the valley’s history: a place of shipwrecks and curses, of veiled hiding places away from prying eyes, of how secret lovers met there for a stolen kiss far away from those who yearned to keep them apart. The place was perfect.

On my 11th birthday, I’d tried to escape there to wait until morning, a child’s foolish attempt to stay another day underwater. But my markings sealed before I arrived. Luckily Nikko tracked me; otherwise I would have been lost like those long ago sailors. He wrapped me in his thick arms, clutching me to his scarred chest, and hurried me back to shore, every so often brushing back my hair, protecting me from whatever else lurked in the ocean. I still remembered how he leaned down and breathed life into me, as I clung to his beard, twirling my fingers through it, wishing I could stay just one more night, and hating that I was forced out.

 Nikko saved me. Sireneans were not killers. They were family.

Vaguely, I wondered if Prescott was tracking my movements, if there was a boat somewhere up there pushing out of a dock to follow me. I dove deeper, sticking to the shadows, swimming between crevices of rocks, and underneath the overhangs.

Pressure built in my ears, but it was always manageable, another added perk to my adaptation to the water. Schools of fish whizzed by during my plunge farther into the depths. The water grew cooler but I didn’t mind. I needed the darkness, the cold water against my skin; the heavy silence only interrupted by the faraway cry of a whale. Gradually the fish tapered off and only those creatures that lurked at the very bottom remained. I swam by intuition, as even my sharp eyesight was reduced to seeing no more than an arms-length in front of me. 

You are close. Nikko’s deep voice filled me, propelling me forward.

I needed to see the familiar shapes of underwater mountains and caverns, shafts of light, not the vast sand and primordial darkness that entombed me. While the blackness was comforting, it was also a constant reminder of the secrecy that had to be kept, of the danger that my very life was in. My heart raced as I pushed onward.

A glint of neon colored paint, a yellow fleck in the distance, painted on the side of a vast rock, caught my eye. When I reached it, there was another one just up ahead. I swam upwards, scaling a huge underwater boulder, finding my way completely by touch. The slippery stone had sharp edges that bit into my hands, but I didn’t mind. This was my element.