The Mermaid And His Love

Part Three: A Sea Witch's Price

Elizabeta bore the appearance of an orca, denoting her power. Though a mermaid might be fair prey to an orca, a sea witch would destroy the creature before it had time to think another thought of eating her.

Her home was in just off the coastal slope, attached to land by a few threads of magic.

"I do not like this." Ivan stated as they headed towards the sea witch's home.

Sofia shrugged. She had invoked her matriarchal rights to bring Ivan here. The temporarily demoted Ivan had obeyed her like a sullen child, and his enthusiasm was about the same.

"We're only going to ask her."

He frowned, silent.

Sofia neared the entrance, and then spoke.

"Great lady of the deep, Daughter of Calypso, we ask your audience."

Silently, the doors opened, and a stream of magic spilled out.

Sofia saw Ivan's tail flicking nervously, and knew he wanted to bolt.

So she grabbed his arm and dragged him inside.

* * *

Warmth.

Alfred felt the weather get warmer every day, and knew that the pods had probably left by now.

He had his own kayak now, because Matthew had wanted his back.

He sighed. Most people would want to spend time here during the summer, but after those times he had spoken to Ivan, he wished winter was here again.

He sighed, and headed home.

He worked as an artist, mostly freelance, though he did a popular web comic as well.

Over the last few months, his apartment had become filled with artwork of mermaids.

A few were female, often with drawn faces, or frightening appearances, but most were male.

Specifically one male.

Al stared at the watercolor. Ivan's eyes were the right shade, and everything looked right, but something was off.

Finally, he realized his mistake. He had portrayed them as very warm in this picture, which given the moment, was not how they should have been.

Once the watercolor was done, he looked across his apartment at the oil painting he'd been working on.

He had nearly finished it. He saw his face, full of agony, straining towards the surface.

Around him was the tail of the mermaid, rust red, holding his legs together. The hand over his mouth, and the fist pressing into his stomach.

He had no idea why he'd wanted to paint that scene, but it had felt right somehow.

Ivan's features were yet to be finished on this. The silver hair was spread out, but his face was shrouded in darkness.

Al reached out to touch it when he heard the doorbell ring.

He opened the door to find Matthew standing there.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check on you."

Al looked at Matt. "Well, I'm alive, and have all my bits and pieces, so you've checked on me, and now I'm going to go back to work."

Matt's hand stopped Al from shutting the door. "You haven't heard, have you?"

"What?"

"They found Arthur."