The Mermaid Prophecy (On Hiatus)

Chapter 6

Arsulu

The sun starts to set behind the tall buildings. I watch as the men saunter closer.

One has a missing leg replaced by a wooden stick. Another has an eye patch covering up one of his eyes. The one talking lifts his lantern higher to reveal that his teeth have mostly rotted away.

All of them wear dirty, ripped clothing that smells like fish urine mixed with buckets of sweat. None of them look like the type of human I should be too familiar with.

I ignore them and turn back around, walking toward the other exit of the alleyway.

The worn out boots of the men thump behind me, "Aw c'mon honey. We just wanna be good pals." One of them laughs. My heart drums against my chest and I pick up my pace, walking faster. 

I'm almost there. Someone in the town square will help me I'm sure.

Their boots pick up speed behind me.

I run.

I hug my satchel closer to my chest. And I know I shouldn't, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I twist my head around to see how close behind they are. In the second that I allow myself, I can see they aren't overly close but they aren't nearly as far as I'd like them to be.

And then I feel cloth under my foot and instead of ripping, it causes me to go soaring through the air only to smack into the ground a moment later. The wind is knocked out of me and my dress rumples across the cobblestones just outside the alleyway. 

Before I can push myself up off the ground, large hands grab me from behind. They rip my satchel from my stinging hands and throw it to the ground like worthless trash. A hand covers my mouth before i feel myself being dragged backwards towards the alley.

I'm thrown up against the damp alley wall, my head knocks against the unyielding wall when the hand re-positions over my mouth.  I shut my eyes to block out the throbbing in my head. When I open them again, the three men are eyeing me like I'm their next meal. 

My throat dries and even if I could scream, I know that no sound will pass my mouth. I struggle against the rough hand against my mouth. The man with the eye patch forces my wrists up above my head, holding them tighter.  All of the men stay just out of reach of my flailing legs.

"Aye, yer a feisty one ain't ya," the man with black teeth makes kissing faces at me and winks. He licks his lips. "I sure do like 'em feisty."

He puts the lantern down on the ground and reaches for his belt.

Oh no.

I stop flailing and clasp my legs together. My breathing comes in faster, shallower. I search for someone nearby but everyone is in the town square, the festivities louder than they were during the day. No one walks this way.

When I hear the belt buckle fall to the ground, I search the ground for it as if I could will it back up. My eyes catch on the lantern just out of my reach. 

What if...

 I jerk my head to the side uncovering my mouth just enough to bite the hand constricting me. The man with the missing leg howls in pain and pulls his hand back.

"Unlume igniswuta!" 

I kick the lantern over causing the glass to shatter. The man with his pants around his ankles jumps back. Instead of the flame dying out, it jumps between the shattered pieces of glass and then into my hand.

Swiveling my hand around, I burn the hand of the man with the eye patch and he lets go of both of my wrists. He sucks air between his teeth and blows on his hand holding it delicately.

The three men watch me with jaws unhinged and wide eyes as I play with the fire in my hands. It rolls over the side of my skin and swirls around into my other hand. I enclose the flame between my hands, blow between the hollow of my hands and then pull it into two balls of fire.

Peg-leg puffs up his chest and charges at me. I turn to take care of him first but feel my arms extend over my head, a slight pressure on the back of my neck. 

I can't move.

Looking behind me, eye-patch has pinned my arms with his and is holding me in place.

His smug face makes my blood boil. I reach over and bend my elbows further to burn his hair with the flame still in my hand. He yelps and lets go falling backwards. 

There is just enough time for me to protect myself from peg-leg and when I reach in front of me, I set his clothes on fire. 

While he screams and runs around trying to pat away the fire, the man with the rotted teeth pulls his pants up off the ground and holds his pants around his waist as he runs away.

Only the eye-patch man is left in the alley. He lifts up his hands in surrender, "Please! Please, spare me! Everything was Nixon's idea." His body shakes, his head bowed.

I snort.

Even though they would have done terrible things had I not fought back, Triton flashes in the back of my mind. A reminder to show kindness and forgiveness even when one doesn't deserve it. The fire extinguishes in my hand.

"Leave." 

He lifts his head seeing that I no longer have the fire in my hands and thanks me profusely lowering his hands to his waist. Before I can process the flurry of movement, I feel a dull pain in my stomach as the man runs into me and out of the alleyway.

What a jerk. I was letting him go, he didn't have to run into me on the way out.

I cough. Twice. And on the third, I hack up a dark liquid into my hand. After analyzing it, I look down and see the knife jetting out from my stomach.

Author's note: Originally published in October 2019, revised in November 2019.