Magic by the Sea

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Chapter Thirteen

Back to the Island

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Ryan felt like his ears was suddenly filled with a rush of water. He stared down at his grandfather for several long moments.

‘My father wrote that book?’ he asked stupidly.

Jo nodded. ‘A long time ago. Your birth mother was able to have half a dozen or so copies printed. That was before... before your father went missing.’ Jo looked down at the newspaper in his lap.

‘Of course, when I met the man, I had no idea who he was or what he was involved in. We had many young and old that made their way to the wharf looking for work. It was customary to ask few questions back in those days,’ he said. Ryan sat down on the couch, staring expectantly.

‘What was he like?’ Ryan found himself asking without meaning to. Jo smiled ruefully.

‘Young, dark haired, a little arrogant perhaps but friendly. Nothing was too much trouble or too difficult. He was as sea worn as many of us, experienced on a boat despite only being in his late twenties.’ He folded the newspaper carefully, giving his hands something to do. Ryan frowned.

‘Did he seem like a killer?’ The questions made Jo’s head snap up, his eyes hard.

‘No.’ The word came out so firmly that Ryan knew he meant it.

‘Firth, the merking, seems confident that my father started the war between the pirates and the mer people. He also called my father a liar,’ Ryan said quietly. His grandfather’s frown deepened.

‘Did he say exactly what your father was meant to have done?’

‘Den, that was the name of the other merman, he said that their prince was injured. The pirates drew first blood. It’s not really much to go on,’ he said in a hurried voice.

‘No, it isn’t. That book goes into greater detail for at least the first part of the war,’ Jo said thoughtfully. Ryan threw his hands up in exasperation.

‘So why did mum hide it!? Why is she keeping us here!?’ Ryan clamped a hand over his mouth. there was a lull in the conversation in the kitchen. They had probably heard his raised voice.

‘She’s scared and running on instinct. A mother’s instinct is always to get her children out of harm’s way,’ Jo said wisely. Ryan glared at the patchy carpet.

‘She’s not even my real-’

‘She is your mother heart and soul and that is all that should matter, just as I am your grandfather and Tyler is your brother. We are your family, and we love you.’ The words came out with such force and hurt, that Ryan lost his anger. Guilt, worry and frustration forced tears to bite into the corners of his eyes. He continued to stare defiantly at the floor. They sat in silence for several long moments, the loud conversation in the other room providing ambient sound along with the pounding relentless rain. Ryan stood and began to pace, thinking hard.

‘I think she is worried that you will find the answer on that island or in that book. I think she is worried that the ending of the curse will require a sacrifice,’ his grandfather said after a long minute, his voice slow. Ryan stopped walking.

‘But if that’s true, isn’t it worth it? To free everyone? To make things right?’ Jo looked at the young man standing in front of him. His throat was rather tight as he said

‘You really are an incredible young man.’ The two men shared a silent moment, both too choked up to speak. The two seemed to come to an understanding in that moment. After all, there really wasn’t much of a choice.

‘I need to go back. If nothing else, to find the book and read what really happened.’

‘I know,’ Jo said with a small nod. The words looked painful to say.

‘I don’t want mum to be angry with you, but I also can’t just try and leave. I need help,’ Ryan rasped. The older man nodded again thoughtfully.

‘When?’ he asked.

‘As soon as possible. I can’t take anything with me, or they’ll know,’ Ryan muttered. His grandfather glanced at a rather hideous chicken shaped clock on the far wall.

‘The last ferry back to the island will leave in an hour and a half. If you catch it, we won’t be able to follow until the morning. It will give you a little bit of time.’

‘Okay but I need to get out of the house and also get to the dock,’ Ryan said worriedly.

‘Leave that to me, just be sulky. Shouldn’t be too difficult,’ his grandfather teased with a lopsided smile. Ryan gave him a puzzled look but followed the man as he headed for the kitchen.

‘Well! I think dessert is a wonderful idea! Tom, you were talking about that excellent double chocolate chip ice cream!’ he said with a loud voice. Ryan heard the bedroom door of his cousins’ room reopen.

‘Ice cream!?’ they both yelled. Almost instantly the kitchen was filled with people as Tyler came rushing over to his mother with large puppy dog eyes. Totally distracted, Alice bent down to pick him up. Ryan watched as Tom started to dig around in the massive freezer and his aunt rummaged around for bowls. Alice was shunted to one side. As she stepped away, Ryan watched Grandpa Jo swoop in and casually scoop up Alice’s mobile phone. As he passed, he handed it to Ryan.

‘Call a Taxi, I’ll give you some money to pay for it,’ his grandfather said.

Ryan swallowed so hard his throat clicked. ‘Thank you,’ he croaked.

‘Go now, whilst everyone is occupied. I’ll tell them you’ve gone to bed with a headache.’ His grandfather’s voice was uncharacteristically throaty. Ryan nodded mutely. The old man hoisted a rather wooden smile back into place and rushed back into the fray whilst Ryan, feeling like the world’s guiltiest person, snuck off down the hall.

He made a show of closing his bedroom door loudly before scrolling through the contacts list until he found the local Taxi company. He ordered a taxi, trying not to let his voice crack. As he waited, he pulled on his socks and shoes. He had told the man to wait for him at the end of the long driveway so that the car’s headlights wouldn’t be visible from the front windows if anyone happened to peer out.

He crept stealthily back out to the lounge room. His grandfather handed him a few crumpled notes in exchange for the phone.

‘Try to come back, yeah?’ the man said with a watery smile. Ryan didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded and hugged the man very tight. As they parted, Ryan got a glimpse of Tyler’s excited face as he was passed a bowl of ice cream. He felt an extremely sharp twist of pain deep inside at the thought that this could be the last time he ever saw these people again. His eyes blurred and he hurried away from the brightly lit kitchen. As he crept away, he heard his grandfather say

‘Ryan? Oh, he went back to bed. Still has a headache.’

‘I can’t imagine why,’ said Uncle Tom in an amused, slightly sarcastic tone as Ruth starting yelling about her favourite toppings.

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It was freezing outside. The sun which normally didn’t set until 7pm was already gone under the heavy rain clouds. He pulled up the hood of his jacket and hurried down the driveway, sticking to the thick grass on the edge so as to not leave large footprints in the wet mud. He saw the lights of the taxi and he flung out a hand.

‘To the wharf please,’ he said as he slid inside. The man gave him a very confused and rather suspicious look. ‘Got to catch the last ferry,’ he added, trying to sound like a confident adult instead of a partly drowned teenager.

‘Right...’ the cab driver replied uncertainly but he pulled away from the house all the same. Ryan watched the house disappear. No one flew out of the front door after him. He was grateful when the driver didn’t ask him anything else. He didn’t feel like talking. He felt dirty, like he had just done a very bad thing. He knew his mother would be upset and angry. He also couldn’t bury the feeling that despite his determination, he was scared. He wouldn’t be surprised if Firth tried to kill him on sight. He shivered.

The lights of the wharf glowed feebly in the dark. The cab driver pulled up and Ryan handed over the money.

‘You can keep the change,’ he said numbly. The man peered back at him with something like concern on his face.

‘It’s rough out there,’ the man said uncertainly.

‘I’m a local. I’m used to it,’ Ryan said with a very brittle smile. He fumbled with the door handle and stepped out into the rain drenched night. He ran, head down towards the outline of the ferry. Despite the rain and the darkness, the ocean looked no rougher than usual which was a small blessing. This night was bad enough without the risk of the ferry being cancelled.

‘Is that you Ryan?’ yelled the booming voice of the ferryman.

Ryan raised a hand. ‘Yeah, hey Mark. Are you still heading off?’

‘You just made it.’ The man squinted at him as he came aboard. ‘Aye, where your ma at? You on your own?’ he asked in surprise, his beard dripping with water.

‘Yeah. Bit hard to explain. I need to get back tonight. Trent and his dad are waiting for me,’ Ryan invented. The old ferryman frowned but gave a shrug.

‘Well get under the cover with you for whatever little good it’ll do you. This rain just won’t let up!’ Ryan could have collapsed to the deck in relief as the boat began to move away. Just the same as the journey to the mainland, Ryan was waiting tensely for something to leap from the water at any minute. Rather than torture himself with shapes in the black churning water or shadows in the rain, he looked pointedly at the deck floor and nowhere else until they bumped gently into the roughened old wharf at the main island thirty minutes later.

Ryan pelted away at top speed, his shoes slipping and sliding in the mud. His lungs burned and his eyes were half closed, going by memory rather than sight. He leapt over the little stone wall that marked the edge of the front garden and scrabbled for the loose brick that hid the spare key to the front door. He found the old key and jammed it into the lock of the front door. He turned the handle and burst inside.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Maybe for the king to be waiting for him on the other side? He stood there for a moment, dripping water onto the doormat, squinting into the dark hallway. It was silent except for the pounding rain and creaking roof. He took a timid step inside, but nothing moved. It smelt like home, and he reached out a hand to try the light switch. Warm light flooded the hallways and Ryan had to close his eyes tight against the sudden brightness. He closed the door behind him.

His shoes squelched as he stepped forward. Wrinkling his nose, Ryan began to strip off his wet clothes and shoes, leaving on his boxers. He shivered. The house was freezing. He hurried over to the fireplace. There was still kindling in the nearby buckets. He lit a fire in the hearth with well-practiced movements. He watched the flames for a while, hypnotized. Once he could properly feel his fingers again Ryan peeled himself off the floor and trudged to his bedroom for clean clothes. It was so good to be back in his own space.

As he reached for a jumper, he felt a tremor of unease. He didn’t remember leaving it thrown over his desk chair like that. He looked around his bedroom. It didn’t quite feel right though there wasn’t anything obvious to say someone had been here. They had left in such a rush it was quite possible his mother had tossed a few things around.

And yet...

Ryan nervously went to the window and peered out. He saw nothing but blackness and rain. He never noticed the odd shine to the windowsill or the scrape of something dark on the latch. He went back over to his bed. Now that he was warming up a bit, he started to look around his room, first for the book but also his phone.

He found his phone which had fallen down beside his bed. He picked it up, but the screen didn’t light up. It was totally flat. He fumbled for his charging cable and plugged it in. Now for the book. He looked. And looked. He crawled around on his hands and knees, felt under the dresser, pulled back the covers and sheets of his bed, rummaged through his wardrobe and dumped out his clothes from the dirty clothes basket. When he was convinced it wasn’t there, he stormed into his mother’s room and repeated the process... albeit a little more respectfully.

Over an hour later though and Ryan was getting both tired and frustrated. He still couldn’t find the book! He had gone through every room in the house though he very much doubted that she would have hidden it in Tyler’s room. He was starting to feel slightly panicked. His mother would be after him as soon as she realized he had gone. Maybe not the first ferry at eight, but probably the one after. Where hadn’t he looked!? It was with a gut clenching bolt of fear that Ryan heard something thump down the hallway. He froze, listening hard.

He couldn’t remember if he had locked the front door behind him. At once, he remembered his two daggers. This thought however, caused another sickening twist of terror because he had just searched his bedroom and he didn’t remember seeing them under the bed where he had left them. He crept down the corridor towards the flickering flames in the lounge room, hardly daring to breathe.

‘Looking for these?’ Den said, the blades of the two daggers glinting in the low light. He looked just as old and battle scarred on land as he had in the water though now, he stood on two legs in a pair of rough looking trousers. His eyes were hard, and his lips were set in a hard-thin line. There was movement to his left. Ryan head whipped around.

There was a figure with silvery hair sitting on the couch.

‘You,’ Firth hissed. Ryan stared. Was this some sort of trick or did Firth look more human? He knew the merking could take human form but even since the last dream, Firth looked more like a man than a supernatural creature. His teeth were no longer pointed and his skin was less pale and warmer looking. He was hunched over on the couch. Without thinking, Ryan walked towards him.

‘You look sick,’ Ryan heard himself say. Without really thinking, he reached out a hand.

‘Don’t touch me,’ the merman snarled but even as he did so, he leaned toward Ryan. Ryan’s fingertips brushed the pale cheek. It was burning hot to the touch, not at all the icy smooth scales he was used to.

‘You did not come back,’ Den growled. Ryan glanced at him. It was odd but seeing Firth looking so sickly helped to ease away some of the fear he had been feeling.

‘My mother saw me drown. Oddly enough the moment she found me alive, she thought it was best to not let me come back to the island,’ he said flatly. For the smallest moment, he thought Den would smile.

‘This is your fault,’ the king spat.

‘What is?’ Ryan said. The man leapt at Ryan with such speed that they both toppled over. Ryan had the wind knocked from his lungs as he hit the carpet spine first with the heavier man on top. Firth glared down at him. For one terrifying minute, Ryan thought the man would wrap those long fingers around his throat and choke him.

‘Why do I feel like this?!’ Firth shouted. Ryan stared up at him. He had no idea what the other was talking about.

‘Get control of yourself sire!’ Den grabbed hold of the taller male and wrenched him to his feet. For a second, Ryan was sure Firth would punch the other man. He swayed on his feet and allowed himself to be shoved back onto the couch.

‘What the hell is wrong with him?’ Ryan rasped as he sat up, rubbing his chest.

‘The spell that Firth placed on the collar to bind you to him has backfired,’ Den said heavily. Then, as though a light had come on his brain, Ryan understood.

‘Instead of me being desperate to get back to him, he’s desperate to get back to me?’ Ryan said, shocked.

Firth gave a low angry groan. ‘How is this possible?’ the king hissed. The other merman shook his scarred head.

‘I don’t know but I have a hunch. An unsupported hunch so far but I’m hoping to have more answers shortly.’

‘What will happen to him?’ Ryan asked, eyeing the merking worriedly. Distantly, he wondered why pitied the man as much as he did.

‘I don’t know. The spell was supposed to drive you mad if you did not return.’ Den gave Ryan a long searching look but before he could say more Ryan interjected.

‘Then I won’t leave. He can stay here. My mother and brother are still on the mainland. I don’t know how long before they come looking for me, but Firth can stay here for now.’ Silence. Both mermen were looking at him, dumbstruck.

‘You want him to stay?’ Den barked.

’Want is a strong word. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt by all this. I need to find my father’s old book. I think it will help.’

‘That’s... why would you want that? You are the son of our enemy,’ Den said, still holding the daggers. Ryan gave him an annoyed look.

‘I. Am. Not. My. Father,’ he said, punctuating every word. The three lapsed into silence for a long minute.

‘I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some?’ Ryan said, daring to turn around. He was still shaking slightly. He didn’t know that one of his daggers wouldn’t find itself buried in his back. Neither merman answered him. He took down the kettle and filled it with water. Hands trembling, he fetched three mugs off the draining board and put a tea bag in each.

‘I don’t think the way the war started happened the way we think it did,’ Ryan said into the uncomfortable silence.

‘What do you mean?’ Firth growled low.

‘You said my father was a liar. Why? What did he lie about?’ Ryan asked, looking up at the hunched figure.

‘He told me he did not attack our Prince,’ Firth spat.

‘And what is your concrete evidence that he did?’ Ryan asked, trying to sound impassive.

‘My brother found his son, covered in blood, fighting for his life against your father and three other pieces of human shit,’ Firth growled.

’Okay, let’s try this without the insults. It’s not helpful. What did the prince say happened?’ Ryan poured the boiling water into the cups and adding sugar.

‘Our prince was young. He went to try and bargain with the pirates, to have them leave peacefully. They laughed at him and took up swords and pistols. The boy was shot in the shoulder. He later died of his injuries,’ Den murmured.

‘You said the islands magic was unbiased,’ Ryan said thoughtfully to Den. He handed a mug to each man, who stared at them as though they were alien objects.

‘Blow on it or you’ll burn yourselves,’ Ryan muttered as he sat down himself. He clutched his own mug, thinking.

‘What if it wasn’t my father who drew first blood? If blame was on another of the pirates-’

‘Then it would make no difference! The humans still started the war!’ Firth said, throwing up his hands.

‘Why do you think the spell Firth put on me backfired?’ Ryan asked.

The king turned his pale eyes onto the other merman. Den looked very uncomfortable. ‘It is only a theory,’ he mumbled.

‘Which is?’ Firth said impatiently.

‘Only that... you used magic to bind the boy to you in a way that would kill him. If he was innocent, utterly innocent then the magic you used would be tainted,’ Den grumbled. He sipped at his tea loudly.

Ryan grimaced. ‘We need to find my father’s book.’

‘And I need to find your brother’s documents,’ Den sighed, looking at his king. He placed the daggers down on the coffee table.

‘Fine. I will help the boy search; you will go back. Don’t be long,’ Firth growled. Den gave a short bow and left, the sound of pouring rain overwhelming for several seconds as the front door opened and then closed, leaving Ryan and Firth alone.

‘You’re not going to lunge for me again, are you?’ Ryan said a little uneasily.

The king shot him a glare. ‘What I feel for you isn’t real,’ the king growled.

‘Oh good. It’s nice to know the constant unfair hatred you show isn’t real,’ Ryan said smarmily. The merking gave a loud snarl and slammed the mug down, splashing tea everywhere and making Ryan jump.

‘Enough!’ Firth hissed. They listened to the rain hammering on the roof and the fire crackling in the grate. Ryan got up to add a few logs to it.

‘You kissed me,’ Ryan muttered. He dared a look at the king and shivered at the intense gaze.

‘You didn’t pull away.’

Ryan felt his cheeks heat. ‘Yeah well, it was a dream,’ he muttered.

‘We both know it wasn’t.’

‘If you’re done with your tea we should keep looking,’ Ryan muttered. He placed their mugs in the sink and without turning back around, went back to his room to search again, hyperaware of the massive shadow of the man behind him, following.

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END

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