Merfolk on Mars

Chapter 16

Isla pointed to a stone tower. "There is a spiral staircase inside that leads up to the walkway."

We were almost there. Finally. Walking past fifteen houses had never seemed to take so long in my life. And it certainly had never included drinking tea with jerky and toast.

For some bizarre reason, we were making better time walking down a public street with two non-steampunk chainsaws than sneaking through underground passageways with leather-covered bundles. Sometimes life was stranger than fiction.

As I climbed the stairs, I gazed up as far as I could, which wasn't far. The walls were covered with moving gears and occasional hisses of escaping steam.

Yep. A poorly lit spiral staircase that was silent except for our footfalls, the faint creaking of gears, and the occasional clunk and hiss of a gear not turning quite right. Nothing about this was spooky at all. No murder mystery potential here either.

The way our day had been going, any dead people we came across would turn into zombies that were obsessed with leather, gears, buttons, tea, and chasing merfolk.

How many stairs were left in this tower?

I breathed a sigh of relief as we finally reached the top.

"Oh, shark farts!" Arai exclaimed from behind me.

I whirled around just in time to see him shift into his merman form. He swayed a bit on the stairs but remained upright as he moved his tail to better balance himself. Of course, all his human clothing had disappeared. Power tools refused to behave like clothing, so the chainsaw stubbornly remained in existence, still clutched in his hand.

"What happened?" I asked, glancing towards the walkway to ensure it was still as empty as it was a few seconds ago.

"Water dripped onto my arm."

I lifted my eyes up to the ceiling, which shimmered with drops of condensation from the steam rising up the staircase. It was like a minefield above, just waiting for a prime opportunity to drop down onto unsuspecting people. Merfolk were apparently worth triple points.

Shaking my head, I fished a small rag out of the tasselled leather pouch on my belt. I tossed it towards him from my spot in the doorway, unwilling to risk getting wet myself.

"Thanks," he mumbled, wiping his arm.

Isla climbed the last few stairs. "Corvus, let's get outside. The sloped ceiling in the stairwell kept the water from dripping, but this part is flat."

I moved to the side to let them past me. Even as they went by, I saw two more drops splat down on the cobblestone floor. One hit Arai's scales.

With a groan, he leaned over to wipe that spot dry as well.

"Why can't we have magical powers like the merfolk in fairy tales do?" Arai complained. "Like being able to control water or fire or something. It would make drying off so much easier."

I leaned against the doorway. "I'd honestly just opt for the ability to shift at will like you see in some werewolf stories."

"Don't werewolves' clothing shred when they shift?" he asked.

"Depends on the story. Most seem to. Some have their clothing disappear in and out like ours does, some use charms, and some rub their blood or wolf hair into their human clothing to trick it into shifting with them."

Arai moved close to the door, ready to duck outside the moment he shifted. About every five seconds, a drop of water fell from above. Thankfully, they all missed Arai. His scales seemed to shimmer before he was standing on two legs, back in his leather clothing once more.

He quickly darted through the doorway. Another water drop slashed down behind him, just missing him.

Turning around, I gazed up at the large tower looming over us. It wouldn't take us more than another couple of minutes to reach it, as long as we didn't encounter any more obstacles.

We walked quickly along the raised walkway that passed over the tops of buildings and streets below. A hissing noise began to grow louder. We began looking around, trying to locate the source. The stones under our feet began to vibrate.

A train passed below, stopping at the tower ahead. The words 'Brasslantis Steam Rail' were painted in elegant letters along the brass plated sides.

Arai muttered, "That would have been much faster."

"And how would you have paid for a ride?" I asked him.

He grumbled under his breath about wasted steps and stowaways but didn't reply. He never planned ahead. Then again, I still didn't know how we were going to get back home, so I couldn't exactly make a sarcastic comment.

The train pulled away, heading for its next destination. Once we were close to the staircase, we crouched down on the walkway above as two women and two men gossiped below about how comfortable their teatime napping chairs had been.

And, of course, they were standing in front of the only door I could see.

"I wonder if a distraction might make them move without alerting the authorities," Isla murmured.

Arai dryly replied, "We could always make Lucy sing 'Under The Sea'. If that doesn't send them running, then nothing will."

"Don't make me pull out my axe and whack you," I threatened.

"Admit it, your singing is more dangerous than our chainsaws and your axes combined. Besides, it can't echo as badly above water as it does below."

I pointedly ignored him; instead, I gazed down at the group below, wishing they weren't there.

"How are we going to sneak around inside?" Isla pondered. "It will be harder once they go in. The tower isn't that wide; there is probably only space for a staircase and one room on each level."

"We'll have to split up and scout it out," Arai said decisively, putting the chainsaw down. "I have just the plan!"

A piece of paper and pen appeared in his hands as he began scribbling something, trying to use the rough stone as support.

I blinked slowly and leaned over to whisper to Isla, "I thought those pants didn't have pockets? And where did he get the pen and paper?"

She shrugged. "He might have picked them up in the school somewhere. The paper certainly didn't come from Sealantis."

That still didn't explain where he had been hiding a pen or the sheet of paper. Besides, we didn't even have the foresight to search for a water bottle while in the teacher's lounge – there was no way Arai would have picked up a pen. This was the guy who played video games; he would never think that a pen was possibly useful. Something was fishy, almost like someone was trying to pull a fast one. Like the author.

Isla added, "His coat probably has pockets inside. And teachers normally carry pens and paper."

Of course, now she had to add logic to it.

Shaking my head, I focused back on the real problem at hand.

"I don't think splitting up is a good idea," I said. "What kind of daydream are you plotting?"

"Just wait. I'm almost done. Then you can see. It's perfect!"

I had my doubts. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the stone side of the walkway.