Dark Depths Page 6

  “So, you said you had something for me?” he asked, forcing himself, when what he really wanted was to pull her closer.

  “There is a ship drifting this way,” she said, languid. “A fishing vessel. I guided it in this direction. When it comes into sight, I will call it here.”

  This made his heart jump with pleasure.

  “I…” he started, feeling a strong sense of gratitude but not knowing how to express it. Something was holding back his tongue. As he looked at her, all of his resolve broke down.

  “I never asked your name.” He’d decided he wouldn’t ask, but he had done it anyway. Now he anxiously awaited her answer.

  “I do not have one.” The sea nymph gave him an apologetic look. “Yet if I did, you would not be able to pronounce it.”

  “But I need some sort of name to remember you by,” he pressed on, surprising himself.

  She shrugged helplessly, and after a short moment, it came to him.

  “I will call you Treasure,” he announced softly.

  It couldn’t have been a more fitting name. Everything about her was like some precious material. Her eyes were like aquamarines; her tail was of golden coins; her teeth were like pearls; her hair was like silk. And her body was like the gentle sea that was going to take him to all those precious things. Had he ever been so poetic, he wondered. He guessed not—not near it. Treasure was certainly a pirate’s muse.

  “As you like,” she conceded casually, though she seemed rather pleased with the name he had given her.

  Suddenly, he recalled he had not spoken his own name.

  “My name is…”

  “Nathan,” she finished for him. “Nathaniel. It’s a beautiful name.”

  He was surprised that she had guessed it so readily, but then he remembered the words of the dark-skinned mermaid. Do jou know what I have been seeing for de past few years for every moment she could steal away? Jou. Of course Treasure knew his name. She had been watching him.

  “May I ask you a question, Nathan?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  He saw no reason why she could not. “You may.”

  “How long exactly is the lifespan of a human? Do they live for many years?”

  He thought it a strange sort of question, but realized immediately that it must not have seemed strange to her. He had never wondered the lifespan of a mermaid—or sea nymph—because he hadn’t imagined that they existed. She, on the other hand, had surely gone her whole life knowing about humans. Humans were prey, after all. Perhaps she’d had a lot of time to ponder such things.

  “One hundred years,” he informed her. “That is, if a man is very lucky. With so much sickness—and other unfortunate circumstances—most don’t see seventy.”

  Treasure stared at him shortly before looking away with a nod of her head.

  “That distresses you?” he inquired, squeezing her hand so that she would look back to him.

  “It’s just that I am seventy-two years old myself,” she said.

  There was a long pause before Nathan was able to speak again. She had said it so simply, as if it were nothing.

  “Is that so?” he wondered aloud.

  Treasure nodded her head most emphatically. “Compared to three-hundred, that’s still quite young.”

  “Three-hundred!” Nathan exclaimed. He turned his head to the clear sky. “My God! What do you do all day?”

  Treasure was silent directly after that, and he pondered over his error a moment before it came to him. She had told him herself that she was considered imperfect, and that she was shameful to her people. The dark-skinned one had told him that Treasure had been punished for taking off the net of hooks before she was relieved of it. It could only mean one thing: the girl lived, at least partially, in captivity. She was a prisoner, and she was abused. Looking closer, he saw the scratches that were left from the bone hooks, almost completely healed already. He saw the fading bruises.

  “I rescue pirates,” she said finally, smiling shortly to lighten the abyss that the mood had fallen into. Unfortunately, it did little to lead him out.

  “Who tied you up and put those hooks on you?”

  Her smile faded. She pressed her lips together and looked into his eyes, finding that she could not lie.

  “My mistress,” she admitted. “I was absent, and she punished me.”

  “And what about these bruises?”

  Nathan removed a portion of her hair from across her stomach, revealing only a few of the faint bruises that still remained on her body from the beating she’d received. Perhaps she had thought he hadn’t noticed.

  “They are nothing,” she assured him, dismissing it and turning to brush wet hair from his forehead.

  From beneath her touch, he sat up quickly. His action led her to copy him.

  “Are you going to be punished for being here with me now?” he asked heatedly.

  She did not seem to know how to answer him. The motion of her lips and head contradicted one another while her eyes tried to explain. Finally, she gave up.

  “I don’t know.”

  There was a tinge of sorrow in her voice, and through that, he knew the answer—and he knew that she knew.

  “You’ve done much for me,” he told her gently. “I can’t look at you, seeing these cuts and bruises, and think that this is my fault. You should stay away.”

  He began to slide off the rock and down into the water, going away from her. He’d gotten the sudden image of being watched by another through her eyes, and that other was busily plotting how she would destroy Treasure for being there with him.

  Refusing to let him go so easily, she gripped his arm.

  “If you could, would you take me with you?”

  The question was so abrupt and her eyes pleaded with him so earnestly that he did not know what to say. If he could say yes to her question, could he mean it? And how horribly would it damage her to hear him say no? But neither of those ‘what if’ circumstances changed the thing that was undeniably fact: she could not go with him. She had no legs with which to do so.

  Eventually Nathan made up his mind, thinking—knowing in his head but not in his heart—that it would do no harm.

  “Yes,” he said. “I would.”

  Without another word or change of expression on her face, Treasure rolled off the rock and fell down into the water. He saw her form move out into the sea, and as he looked on, his eyes met with a shape on the horizon. White sails… A ship. He jumped into the water and swam toward the shore.

  Treasure had not let him down. His faith was not misplaced. He would gather his things and await his rescue.

  2

  The mermaid kept her promise, and while Nathan had to believe that she had lured the ship here, he had not seen a glimpse of her since she had left him. Still, he was grateful, and if he ever saw her again, he would tell her so.

  But he supposed that if he ever did, he would owe her a favor, for she had bested him again.

  As soon as he was pulled up onto the deck of the small ship, Nathan felt relief. He felt lighter already, released from his captivity on the island, released from thoughts of death, and released from her. Her name was Treasure, and he would never forget her, but he had to move on with his own life. With that settled in his mind, he raised his head to look over those who had allowed him on board their fishing boat.

  His pleasant mood fell instantly.

  These men around him were certainly not fishermen. They were much too clean and dressed too finely. A few of them appeared to be sailors, but they too were polished. These were men of station, Nathan was sure. Certainly loyal to His Majesty and not to the likes of a pirate. He suddenly longed for the island once again. Was it too late to jump ship? All of their eyes were locked onto him, and his mind ran a course for his life. Soon, one of the white-wigged men spoke.

  “What unfortunate thing finds you lost at sea, young man?”

  All those not tending to the immediate needs of the small boat awaited his answer. N
athan wondered if it was alright to tell these men any part of the truth. He would, of course, leave out condemning details, and if he hesitated too long…

  “Shipwrecked,” he said honestly, though he was sure that his face was showing guilt. Why could he not escape it?

  “Yes, we saw that ship not too far from the island, I believe,” said another man. “Wrecked on some rocks just a couple of nights ago in the storm.”

  Nathan saw no reason to make comment. They eyed him knowingly—but just what did they know? He was cautious of delving in.

  “You do realize that we recognized it to be a pirate ship,” he was told curtly, “and if you’re a survivor, that makes you a pirate.”

  “I was merely a captive,” Nathan informed them calmly, gaining better control of himself with the insistence that he had to get out of this. “A common sailor, captured.”

  “Not likely that a captive, locked away in the brig, would be the only survivor. But I suppose we will find out the truth more accurately once we get to port.”

  What to do? When they got to port, he would not doubt be questioned, but more than that, they would discover the tattoo on his back, which would give him away. Within, Nathan was growing frantic.

  “Now, now, gentlemen. There’s no sense in treating our guest so inhospitably. He must have been through some terrible ordeal. Give him peace.”

  The interruption came from another man who stood to the side—a considerably younger gentleman. He wore no wig, his brown hair combed back. There was something about him that was very different from these others. More interestingly, they all silenced at his words.

  “I apologize on behalf of my associates. One would think that with such proper education they would have better manners.”

  The man set a pipe in his lips before approaching Nathan. He stood a couple of inches taller than the pirate, was at least ten years older, and was much cleaner. The man seemed so familiar, and yet Nathan was certain that he’d never seen him before—but then it hit him. It was ten years ago at least; perhaps more. Nathan had been with his mother, and had glimpsed—only glimpsed—the crown prince perusing at market with several guards. He had been a grown man at that time, Nathan only a boy, and now as Nathan looked on him again, he was certain that this was the same man.

  “Crown Prince Ellister,” he uttered before he could stop himself.

  There was a sort of awe in his voice. Or perhaps it was confusion. He wasn’t one to become overly excited in the face of royalty. He was only surprised. What, exactly, was the crown prince doing with his secretaries on a simple fishing boat?

  “You are at the advantage, knowing who I am,” said Thaddeus Ellister. “Yet I do not know your name.”

  “Nathan,” he said openly. “Thomas.” He saw no reason in trying to hide it. The crown prince did not know him from Adam. There was no harm in being honest.

  “Considering that you are removed of all weapons, I will see it fit for you to roam freely over the deck of this vessel, Mr. Thomas. Unfortunately, when we arrive in port, you will be searched for any markings that might link you to that ship that wrecked not far from where you were stranded. I hear it said that the ship has been pinned as one called the Blood-Red Siren. And you say you were a captive?”

  Ellister was sounding genuinely cordial and understanding, but his words promised that nothing Nathan could have said was going to convince them that he was not a pirate aboard that ship. When they saw the tattoo on his back, his fate would be sealed. Surely he’d see the noose. Nathan gulped audibly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. How was he to get out of this? There was always jumping back into the water, swimming back to the island and taking his chances there. But…

  “There is, perhaps, a healthy solution.” Ellister’s words surprised Nathan wholly. The men facing him, standing behind the crown prince, looked confused. Nothing could be done on any of their parts but to listen.

  “You see, I’ve been looking for someone like you. Someone who knows how to handle himself at sea and stand against the terrors she offers—and who’s willing to get their hands dirty if need be. Perhaps it was fate that brought us together here now. I need a detached pirate, free of ship and captain, and you suddenly find yourself in need of a pardon.”

  “Your Highness, I must protest,” said one of the bolder men who stood behind him, watching. The crown prince did not seem like the sort of man who took kindly to protests against his judgment. He ignored it fully, keeping his eyes on Nathan as smoke trailed up from his pipe.

  Nathan considered this shortly—very shortly. Bearing in mind the position he was in, he saw no way he could refuse this offer without receiving death in return. Even without knowing what the prince was going to ask of him, he was intrigued. Who knew; perhaps it might be worthwhile.

  “A decision, Mr. Thomas? Oh, but you will have time to think on it until we get back to port, if you so desire.”

  “I find that I am in no position to negotiate further,” was Nathan’s swift reply.

  Thaddeus Ellister smiled.

  “A smart young man,” he commented. “If only my own attendants were so agreeable.”

  What about freedom? a little voice inside Nathan nagged, but another voice of slightly higher volume insisted that without life, there was no freedom. Perhaps somewhere along the way, he could find some means of slipping out of this.

  “What do you want of me?” Nathan asked with sincerity as if he were anxious to please.

  The crown prince leaned forward a bit, though not bothering to hide the subject of conversation by hushing his voice.

  “Tell me, Nathan: how much do you know about deep sea nymphs?”

  The notion shocked Nathan, and all too suddenly his mind was spiraling back through everything that had happened to him over the past few days. He remembered the storm, the crash of the waves, the breaking of the ship. He recalled the blood in the water and the tearing of human flesh. He remembered Treasure’s kiss. He remembered hooks, pain, the dark of night. Silver eyes, terrible dreams, and helplessness. He remembered blood on his hands… He remembered her blue-green eyes.

  Nathan raised his eyes to meet the expectant green orbs of Ellister. What had he asked? How much did he know about nymphs?

  “I’m not completely unfamiliar,” Nathan admitted.

  Chapter Six

  Life for Death

  1

  Treasure watched the shadow of the ship pass over her head. It pained her to watch him go, but she knew she had no other choice. They were from different worlds, and even though she understood that, she couldn’t help wondering if they could have been together, but she supposed that was far beyond her now.

  Tiny bubbles gathered on her flesh and tail as she drifted in the cool, sunlit water. The salt always stung her eyes, but she was used to discomfort. With the groaning passage of the ship drifting away from her, she wondered if she could continue on without him. She had watched him from afar for so long, but now that she had seen him close, touched him and spoken with him, could she forget?

  She should not have been here, and she knew it well. If she did not return shortly, they would know she had gone. But…

  Nathan… The sound of the name was like grasping a dream.

  Before heading back into the chasm where she belonged, Treasure followed the ship to port to see where it would dock.

  2

  “It was the voice of a nymph we were following when we found you,” explained Thaddeus Ellister to his guest.

  After arriving at the king’s private dock in the crown city of Ilsa, Nathan had been led into the palace. It was a glorious place. He’d never seen anything like it, with halls as large as any building he’d ever been in, and stone columns as tall as trees. A bath had been prepared for him, and he’d been scrubbed clean by attending servants. He’d needed it desperately. He was then given clothes to wear—simple, but clean and fine.

  A meal was arranged, and he was set to take it with the crown prince himself. A great spre
ad was laid across the table and Nathan did not bother making a grand show of manners. He ate cleanly, but without hesitation. It had been a while since he’d had anything decent.

  A few chairs down from him, Ellister only watched with his hands folded, occasionally sipping the wine. A pair of blue and silver clad guards stood stiffly near the door, and the prince spoke openly.

  “The creature ensnared the boat to do her will, but we never caught sight of her. After we noticed your fires, we heard her voice no more and the helmsman’s trance was relieved. She aimed us toward you unbeknownst as she was trying to bring us to our doom. How fortunate for you.”

  Nathan listened, but did not comment, sinking his teeth into the savory meat of a lamb’s leg. The prince did not speak accusingly. The young pirate would have been apprehensive if he had. He rested confident that this man knew nothing of Treasure.

  “But let us now come to the matter at hand—of why I brought you here and rescued you from the fate of a cold prison cell.” Thaddeus took a sip of wine. “I know it must have been quite an ordeal for you, seeing your comrades killed as they were.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call them comrades,” Nathan stopped eating long enough to interrupt.

  “I was just about to bring up that point: that you seem mentally unscathed.”

  I’m not sure I’d say that either, Nathan said to himself, but he kept his mouth shut for the time.

  “That is why I need someone like you. I need someone with your skills and, yes, even a skewed sense of right and wrong. This is a sensitive matter to many parties, but it is most important to me. It involves the creatures we know as deep sea nymphs—as well as the ones we consider to be mermaids.”

  Nathan raised his head. In the prince’s eyes, these two were not the same thing? Then again, in his own eyes, he could hardly consider them the same. Treasure was a mermaid, certainly, as most thought of them. Those others were deep sea nymph monsters.

  “Most of those who have ever seen one such nymph and lived can only say that they look like beautiful women with fishtails. But then there are those few, like you, who have seen them for what they really are. Word has spread, and the people now believe in the many dangers of the sea. They are becoming more hesitant to travel with goods for trade. The people have charged me with eliminating this threat, as I have seen fit to attempt since the days of my youth. Unfortunately, it is impossible for me to see to these things personally any longer. There are so many other matters at hand—with my father’s illness, along with so many political and national matters… I won’t bore you. But that is why I need you.”