Secret Song of the Sea

“Wench! Half hour, then you’re out,” the sailor called down to her.

Sabine didn’t answer. The cell reeked of bile and the iron tang of blood long dried on her clothes. She had long been familiar with death before boarding and now, bound in chains and minutes away from her own, it felt like an old friend. She stared at her bound hands and chafed wrists. There was still some blood under her nails.

She looked out the porthole to water beyond, reflecting the clear night sky above. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, even broken up by the ripples of their ship, and she was almost grateful.

Cowards, she scoffed, as she had since her first day, and since they killed her brother scant hours ago. They couldn’t even kill her in the light of day, too afraid of what God will see.

Bellamy had been out on a route when their parents got sick, and the fever ravaged them quickly. By the time she contacted Bellamy she had been living off the charity of their neighbors, scraping by on meager savings.

Sabine remembered the strength of his arms when she saw him again. His salt-stiff jacket crinkled under her cheek and his dark hair curled in the breeze. Bellamy arranged passage with his captain that night to get her to their aunt on the neighboring island, unable to leave his contract on the ship.

Bellamy had warned her that sailors were superstitious. He had worked with this crew for a few months and knew them well, and it had only been because of him that she was allowed aboard.

She remembered the warning he gave her that first morning, the ship looming ahead. “Sailors can be superstitious men. Most of ‘em think women’er bad luck so keep your head down.”

She must be the bad luck the sailors thought her to be, because the plague followed her. Within a week of casting off three of the crew caught the fever. Before the second week was out, four were dead.

Bellamy had shielded her as best he could, but they had been left to fend for themselves. They had actually slept in one of the cells in the brig for their own protection.

“They’re scared, Sabe.” Bellamy had whispered to her one night. “Scared men are stupid.”

Sabine remembered staring at the dark circles under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks. “I’m not worth this, Bell.”

“Shut up!” He had snapped, yanking her into his arms. “Mom n’ Pop are not yer fault. Sabe, you’re healthy as a horse, nothin’ll take you down. Not a plague and not the men on this ship, okay?”

“But what if they’re right? What if I brought this plague to ‘em?” She had cried, tears burning hot trails down her cheeks.

He had gripped her arms tight, pushing her away to stare at her, brown eyes warm in the light of their meager candle. “Sabine, half the men on this ship went to port, any of them coulda caught it but you aren’t sick. It’s them bein’ superstitious cowards unwillin’ to be responsible for themselves.”

Bellamy’s words had been a cold comfort. As more men got sick, whispers turned to demands to shouts. Bellamy refused to leave her side and yesterday it broke.

The captain died.

The last voice of reason on this cursed ship died in the night and two men stormed their secluded cell, forcing the door open.

Bellamy had stood, stalwart and strong in front of her as always had.

“Hand her over and you can go, Bell’my!” One of them had spat, a lantern in one hand their only light while a dagger was held in the other. The other man had held some shackles.

Bellamy had spread his arms out, caging her behind him. She had tucked herself between his shoulders, squeezing her eyes closed. “She’s my sister, I’m not letting you scoundrels do a damn thing to her! She didn’t have a thing to do with this and you know it!”

The other man had spoken up. “Last chance, Bell. Cap’n’s dead, no one’s protecting you now.”

“Ya gonna have to kill me, Oliver.” Bellamy had said firmly. “Cause if it means letting you put chains on my sister, I’d rather end up dead.”

“Enough of this!” The first had snapped, “Grab the wench before her curse spreads!”

He had shoved his lantern aside and leapt forward. Bellamy had met him, charging out of her arms with a shout. Oliver grabbed at her when she screamed, reaching for her brother. He yanked her over, pulling both hands behind her while the two men grappled in the cramped space.

Bellamy had collapsed with a shout and the other man stumbled back, his hand gleaming red and she remembered he had been holding a dagger. Sabine had turned wild, fighting and clawing, anything to get to her brother bleeding out on the floor of the brig.

She broke free of their grip and knelt by Bellamy, rolling him onto his back. His shirt was already covered in blood but she had tried to put pressure on the wound. “Help him! I don’t care what you do, take me, kill me, just help him!” she cried to the others, Bellamy groaning under her hands.

Oliver had looked pained, a hand raised as he stepped forward, but the one who stabbed her brother stopped him. He had looked shocked, hands bloodstained and shaking. “You heard him earlier.”

“Gabin -”

“No! With the Cap’n...dead, I’m the next in command. If Bellamy sides with her, he’ll share her fate. If he lives, he won’t forgive us.”

Tears had burned hot trails down her cheeks as Bellamy’s blood burned her hands. “P-Please, please! I’ll make him promise! Imprison him, do anything, just don’t let him die, please!”

Gabin had closed his eyes and swallowed, turning away in the face of her pleas. “Oliver, take her.”

“I-If you...hurt her...I swear…” Bellamy gasped.

Sabine had hushed him. “Please, Bell, please, not for me. I can’t let you die for me.”

Bellamy had reached up a shaking hand and grabbed hold of her, staining her hands red. “I..don’t regret anything. Keep..fighting.”

“Gabin, maybe -”

“That’s enough!” Gabin snapped. He stormed over to Oliver and grabbed the shackles. Sabine and Bellamy had stiffened, but Bellamy was fading quickly. She had grabbed onto Bellamy as Gabin grabbed her, yanking one arm up and locking a shackle around it. She fought, torn between holding her brother and fighting Gabin. Bellamy couldn’t do much more than roll, clammy sweat on his skin as he yelled.

That was the last time she saw her brother.

Oliver had come by earlier that day, when his blood had crusted on her nails and dried on her clothes. He had handed her a bowl of water, refusing to meet her eyes. “I...he didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Sabine.”

Her voice had been hoarse from screaming. “Save apologies for those you aren’t killing.”

Oliver had flinched. “He was my friend.” Sabine had scoffed, taking the water from him. She took a few small sips but at the sight of her hands, put the bowl in her lap to scrub at her skin. She didn’t want Bellamy’s blood on her hands. “It’ll be in a few hours. Tonight.”

She didn’t deign to give him an answer, and Oliver left her to her silence. Those hours had come and gone, the evening sun setting fire to the ocean only to be doused by the rising moon, and now her cell door was opening, Gabin staring at her with eyes half mad. A few other nameless faces stood behind him, but she didn’t care about them.

She didn’t have the energy to talk. When Gabin tried to summon her forward she stared at him blankly, taking pleasure in the twist of his brows. He waved two other men forward and they jerked her to her feet. She stumbled limply between them out of the bowels of the ship for the first time in days. The night breeze was refreshing, soothing her burning skin like a mockery of kindness.

She was forced to the edge of the deck where a short plank had been laid out. She watched the water, the gentle ripples from the ship breaking the reflection of the stars, much larger in the open sea than from her tiny porthole. The ocean would be just as unmerciful as the men at her back.

“Women are always bad luck, but you were a curse,” Gabin spat at her. “Every death on this ship is on your head, including yer brother’s.”

Sabine whirled around, almost stumbling over the edge of the plank. “Your foolish fear and superstition killed my brother! And it’s killing me!”

She looked over the men again, faceless men, none of them speaking out at sentencing a young woman to her death simply because they were scared. Even Oliver, her brother’s so-called friend, simply looked away when she met his eyes.

She grit her teeth. Bellamy’s last words to her were to fight. She was at death’s door, but she had one way to make her own choice. These men weren’t going to see her beg or force her from the ship. Sabine turned and jumped.

The water was ice when she broke the surface. The weight of her skirts and the chains around her arms pulled her down even as she fought her way to the surface, breaching with a gasp.

She kicked furiously, sputtering and coughing, glaring at the ship and the sailors turning their backs to her, making haste to put distance between them. “Let the sea take you, you craven bastards!”

Not one head turned, and she paid for her insult with a mouthful of water as the ship pushed waves over her head. Already, her body was getting weak. Days of little food and sleep were taking their toll and her clothes were tangled around her legs, pulling her down.

Her eyes burned, hot trails burning down her cheeks lost in the salt of the sea. She craned her head back, staring at the open expanse of stars above her, trying to pull against the weight of the shackles and her clothes to float, just a little bit. She managed to get her shoulders and back out of the water. Her dress was too heavy, weighed down by the water, and she knew she had only bought herself minutes.

Sabine sobbed while drifting, rocking and swaying with the current. Why was she bothering? Why couldn’t they have just killed her with Bellamy? Why didn’t the plague take her with their parents, then at least he would have been alive, mourning his family from afar.

Her sobs started turning into gasps, shoulders heaving, and she lost her precarious balance and went under. She fought instinctively, bound arms flailing for a few precious seconds, but she was so tired. She wanted her mother, the warmth of her smile, wanted the strength of her father’s arms around her. It would be useless trying to fight, there was no land to swim to.

Hate burned in her, despite the chill of the water slowing her limbs. Hate for superstitious men and the useless flock who stood and watched, saying nothing.

Sabine let herself stop fighting, giving in to the pull of the sea. She kept her head back, eyes open, looking past her billowing hair at the shimmering light of the moon in the water. Her lung burned. Spots blurred her vision and her head pounded, her body’s last resistance.

Something shimmered beside her, a cold brush of water and pressure just as her body gave out, mouth opening for breath. Water had only just rushed into her mouth when rough hands grabbed her face, yanking her forward to meet smooth lips.

She was coughing into the kiss, but whoever held her refused to give her an inch, and it was a few frightening seconds before she realized coughing meant breathing. Her own instinctual relief had her pressing closer and Sabine opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them from the pain.

She jerked again at the reflective blue eyes, slit pupils like a cat, staring cooly at her. There was assessment in that gaze, and Sabine looked over her face as much as she could, heart pounding when she saw seaweed and shells tangled in the flowing hair and small shimmering scales dotting her cheekbones. A mermaid. A mermaid is saving my life.

‘For now.’

Sabine jumped at the melodious voice, echoing softly like holding a shell up to her ears. She flinched when the mermaid’s brows furrowed and grip tightened, sharp pricks putting firm pressure on her face. Claws?

‘Stop moving.’

She obeyed, staring at her eyes. She kicked her legs, feeling her dress move heavily around her and brush something large and firm. Part of her longed to look. Sabine saw more shimmers out of the corners of her eye and felt the water tugging at her hair and clothes. She wondered just how many mermaids were here.

‘Do you want to die? Or is there enough hate inside you to live?’

Sabine’s bound hands reached up, fumbling over rough scales that turned into smooth. cold skin until she gripped the mermaid’s arms. She ignored the sharp scales that cut her fingers, blood mixing into the water between them as dark as ink. The shock of seeing her had made her forget but now she remembered. She hated, oh, she hated. She wanted the men on that ship to feel her pain and fear, the burn in her chest before she gasped for a doomed breath. ‘Can you make them pay?’

Satisfaction warmed those cold eyes, her grip softening. A song started echoing around her, unintelligible to her ears. ‘Not me. Us.’

Sabine felt a sharp pinch where their lips connected, and pain blinded her when claws raked across either side of her neck. She reached up with a cry, more blood flowing in the water turning it black around her. She ran her fingers over the marks, feeling the skin flutter with her panicked breathing.

When Sabine could see past the blood, she gaped at the mermaid hovering in front of her, her eyes luminous in the dark water, her scales pearlescent and shining with enough shades to make a jeweler envious. Her tail was easily twice the length of her body, fins fanning out at the ends, trailing halfway up the tail and with smaller ones at her hips. Scales turned into skin around her waist, trailing in patches like freckles along her hips and shoulders, her upper body entirely bare.

Other mermaids were swimming around them in a vortex, singing, but Sabine’s eyes were caught, hypnotized by hers. Water pulled at her clothes and hair and their voices rose and fell, becoming clearer. The mermaid’s joined them, her voice crooning around them but her lips not moving.

‘...innocence lost, and a life taken away

That wasn’t theirs to give up.

What shall you do, oh maiden fair?

Will you decide to live now?

Give yourself away, to the sea

and remove the veil of humanity...’

Sabine understood and she nodded at the mermaid, the other girl sentenced to her death by superstitious sailors.

‘Adelaide. My name is Adelaide. Welcome to the sisters, Sabine...and brace yourself.’

Adelaide raised a hand and gave some kind of hand signal. The others around them must have understood because they closed in, the vortex shrinking. The tighter the water became the harder it was to resist until Sabine was tossed around the water, losing track of Adelaide.

Claws raked over her, cutting off her clothes, leaving tiny pricks all over her body or long gashes across her legs. The pressure became intense, squeezing her, and she couldn’t hold back a scream, soundless, bubbles floating from her mouth to be destroyed in the turbulent waters. She curled up under it, feeling her legs pressing together. Each tiny prick of claws was turning into hardened scales, a fin growing from a gash on her hips or ankles as her legs slowly fused together. The sight became too much, nausea turning her stomach and she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling the burn of silent screams destroy her throat, praying for the pain to be over.

So consumed by the pain she didn’t notice when it was over, clawed hands running soothingly over her back and arm. A gentle crooning filled the water around her. ‘Open your new eyes, Sabine.’

She listened, blinking and squinting in the water. What was before just black water, with distant moonlight from above was now a luminescent world. Blues and greens, depths of pinks, purples, shades she had only seen in the depths of shells on the shore. She could see the small currents in the ocean, and far beyond them were faint shimmers of scales, flashes of fin.

She felt cold hands trail down her arm again and shuddered, looking down to follow the clawed hand to the shackles still on her wrists. ‘Let’s free you of the last of men’s chains.’

The gentle hand tensed, claws curving and extending until they pierced the lock, shattering it with a muffled sound. The shackles fell away, falling into the depths. Sabine rubbed her wrists, stopping to turn her own hands flat, staring at the claws and webs between her fingers. Adelaide pressed tightly up against her side, pearlescent tail swaying below with her own blue one. Adelaide laced her fingers with her own, pulling her along. ‘The ship is this way.’

Sabine took a breath through her new gills at her neck, flexed the muscles of her tail, and followed.