Magic by the Sea

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Chapter Fifteen

The Islands that Moved

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‘You both deserve to die! He would still be alive! He would still be with me!’ Dania’s screaming was getting louder and less coherent. Debra had lost control completely, all the colour gone from her face.

Dania slashed wildly, the blade arching and catching Firth in the arm. Blood splattered across the kitchen countertop, spots of red against the cream surface. Ryan grabbed a fistful of Firth’s wet shirt and dragged him backward, putting himself between the mad woman and the king. Firth tried to move around Ryan, but Debra grabbed hold of the merman’s arm.

‘Don’t hurt her!’ she sobbed.

As Dania brought the knife down again, Ryan leapt sideways, knocking over the stool he’d been sitting on and losing his balance.

Her eyes narrowed, seeing an opportunity to kill. Firth shook Debra off and dove for the woman’s knife hand, grabbing her wrist and twisting it. Her words had become lost in ear-splitting screams as she thrashed like a rabid animal in Firth’s grip. Her other hand flew up to gouge the man’s eyes. Firth wrenched her around violently to take her off balance. Meanwhile Debra was still shouting her sister’s name. The noise was deafening.

Ryan got to his feet, his hip tender from where he’d connected with the side of the stool on the way down. It took another savage twist for the woman to finally let go of the knife. It clattered to the ground and Ryan kicked it away. He snatched up the book​.

‘Let’s get out of here!’ he yelled. Firth shoved the woman hard into the arms of her crying sister. The two women fell back against the kitchen counter, Dania still violently clawing at the air, desperate to reach either one of the men who fled at speed to the door. Ryan wrenched it open. He shoved the book under his shirt, pulled his wet jacket back on and ran back out into the storm.

Adrenaline and violent winds helped carry them down the slick road. Ryan looked back several times into the driving downpour to see if they were being followed. The water stung his eyes and burned his ears with cold. He was drenched through to the marrow by the time they reached the stone house. They entered and Ryan slammed the door behind them and locked it.

He worked the book free from his shirt. It was damp but thankfully not ruined. As he struggled out of his jacket and shirt, he headed for the fire. He placed the book down nearby to dry and toed off his heavy water filled shoes. He peeled off his wet jeans and grabbed a pair of loose sweatpants from his room. It was as he came back that he caught sight of Firth.

‘Shit, you’re bleeding!’ Firth had removed the tattered shirt, blood leaking sluggishly from a cut on his ribs and another on his arm. His face was scratched, and one eyes was red.

‘I’m-’

‘Stay there, I’ll grab the first aid kit.’ When he turned, Firth moved to follow him.

‘Sit down!’ he barked. The king sat submissively. Ryan marched into the kitchen and retrieved the little first aid kit from its home under the sink.

‘Should we not just read the book? This isn’t-’ Ryan’s eyes flashed as his gaze shot up to the man’s face.

‘In a minute.’ Ryan growled and the merman seemed to think it best to let the human have his way.

‘I don’t know if these need stitches,’ Ryan said in a worried voice, studying the cuts as he gently wiped the antiseptic over the one on the man’s rib cage.

‘I heal quickly,’ the merking murmured.

‘Lucky you,’ Ryan grumbled.

​’Hold still,’ he added. He took hold of Firth’s wrist and gently turned the man’s arm over, studying the long cut that ran up his bicep. It didn’t look deep. He wiped at it in long strokes. Firth shifted around, making it easier to reach. The room flashed brightly for a moment as another streak of lightning lit up the blackened sky outside.

He looked into the man’s face, at his almost elven features. He poured more antiseptic on a fresh cloth and began to gently wipe at the scratches along the man’s cheek, his left hand gently holding Firth’s head in place with a palm. Thankfully the woman’s ungroomed nails hadn’t managed to hit Firth’s eyes.

‘And now you’ve met my dear loving mother,’ Ryan muttered as he worked. To his credit, Firth didn’t wince, protest, or move away. It was several long minutes before Ryan realized he was effectively cradling the man’s face in his hands.

He stared into the king’s eyes, feeling his heart give a hard thump in his chest. In his dreams, those eyes had often looked glassy and white, like a dead fish left to rot on the shale beach. Now the irises looked like pale polished silver.

‘I think the​ cuts are clean,’ Firth said as he took the cloth from Ryan’s immobile hand.

‘Ah, right,’ Ryan murmured, feeling his face redden. Firth took Ryan’s jaw between forefinger and thumb and shifted, leaning in. To stunned to move, Ryan shivered when cool lips brushed against his own. They tasted of salt. The kiss was chaste and gentle. Ryan felt his muscles relax. A ridiculous little sigh escaped his chest and Firth pressed in a little closer. When they drew apart, Ryan’s eyes were wide.

​’You kissed me again,’ Ryan said, stating the obvious.

‘You didn’t pull away again,’ Firth responded. Maybe it was near death experience or the stress of their situation, but Ryan decided he probably wasn’t thinking straight. When Firth leant in, Ryan met him halfway. The kiss was a lot less chaste this time but still gentle, a tongue tracing his bottom lip. Ryan opened his mouth, a soft sound rumbling from him.

The room suddenly felt a lot warmer. His fingers traced over the smooth skin of the taller man, felt where muscles gave way to the bumps of old scars. Firth’s hand travelled down. It brushed along Ryan’s throat and nudged the collar. The unwelcome reminder of it jolted Ryan out of his daze. He pulled back, panting softly.

‘Most people just say “thank you’ after getting medical treatment,” he rasped.

‘You stood between us. She could have killed you,’ Firth murmured. He looked unwilling to let go but his hold stayed light.

‘Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember the brick story?’ Ryan was trying for a joke, but his heart was still jumping hard in his chest.

‘I’m sorry.’ In that moment, he thought the man really meant it too. He wasn’t really sure what it was Firth was apologising for, his insane mother, his dead father, the curse he was now a part of or the kiss they had just shared. Ryan smiled and reluctantly disentangled himself from Firth’s hold.

‘It’s okay.’ He busied himself with cleaning up the bloody cloths and stoking the fire back to a full roar.

‘Does my touch disgust you that much?’ Firth muttered. Ryan nearly dropping the log he was holding. His head whipped around.

‘Do I look disgusted to you?’ he spluttered, still very much aware of how his cheeks were flushed, ​his lips were wet, and his eyes were still over bright.

‘Then why-’

‘Firth.’ Ryan stood up and looked at him. ‘I think we can both agree that this situation is not... ideal. I don’t just mean because of the curse. This,’ He pointed to the collar around his ​neck and continued

‘This is affecting you in some way. I don’t want anything we do to be on account of some spell that’s affecting your faculties. That’s really fucked up.’

‘This is about consent?’ Firth asked. He looked dumbfounded. Ryan threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

‘Of course, it is! I can’t be comfortable doing anything with you knowing there’s a chance that you would never have kissed me without the influence of magic!’ The sound of pounding rain filled the room for several long moments.

‘You truly are one of the strangest humans I’ve ever met.’ the merman said.

‘Yeah... how many have you met that you had an actual conversation with that didn’t involve weapons or death threats?’ Ryan asked with a slightly lopsided smile. The king imitated it, his lips twisting.

‘Point taken.’

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Ryan made more tea to help warm them up and dragged a chair closer to the fire. His hands were shaking slightly when he picked the book up off the hearth. It was still damp but warmed from the fire. Very carefully, he peeled it apart.

‘This is going to sound strange, but I think he wrote this for me, in a way. It’s written as a kind of children’s storybook,’ Ryan murmured as he flicked through a couple of chapters.

‘He knew he would be dead long before you were grown,’ Firth said, his face etched in what could be regret. Ryan nodded woodenly then he frowned.

‘Can I ask you something that’s been bothering me?’ Firth gave a small nod.

‘This book and everyone who I have heard talk about the battle between the pirates and the mermen has made it sound as though it happened a long time ago. But I’m only eighteen. That’s not like... colonial times.’ Ryan said, looking up from the decorative pages.

‘The curse kept us bound to the island. Our only means of escape was to choose death,’ the king said cryptically.

‘Sorry, I’m not following. Are you saying that you’ve stopped aging?’ Ryan asked.

‘Yes. My people and those pirates who did not die in the battle. We could not leave the seas around the islands, but we could not grow old there either.’ Ryan blinked, his lips parting.

‘I believe that was why your father eventually sought solace in your mother. He had been without human contact for a long time.’ Ryan sat, his brain sluggishly turning over this new information. The book had quite a few pictures and several short poems. It took a while to flick through to a promising looking page. Ryan paused, his eyes widening as he read.

‘Listen to this,’ he said, angling the book so he could have more light.

’Pride is a fickle thing. The little prince would not go home to the sea, and he would not let my men stay. He struck like a shark and the first man fell. The other pirates let out a cry of anger and joined the fray. I yelled for them to stop but no one would listen. I drew my blade to help my brothers as another of the creatures came from the ocean. We fought until we were all exhausted and none the winner. We took our injured men and retreated to the village...

‘This cannot be correct. This doesn’t talk about the bullet wound that killed our prince,’ the king’s eyes blazed as he stared down hard at the book in Ryan’s lap. Ryan flipped the page, scanning it. Some of the anger ebbed as he saw the colour drain from the boy’s face.

‘I think I know why.’ Ryan rasped. Firth leant forward, trying to see.

‘What?’

’We sat and talked for hours. Surely, we could find a way to share the islands we reasoned. It was then that we heard a noise. We looked out the window and a yell rang out.

‘Monster! A devil’s monster!’ The young merman ran from the inn before we could stop him and half the village gave chase. Old man Jenkins took his pistol and shot the creature as it ran. As it hit the water, the ocean roared and the sun vanished behind clouds. We knew then, that something evil had taken hold. We got back on our ships but the winds would not take us from the islands...’

‘Jenkins...’ Ryan whispered.

‘The name is familiar?’

‘Debra and Dania’s family name is Jenkins.’ They looked at each other.

‘So, what, my great, great, great grandfather started all this by shooting a merman after he mistook him for a sea monster?’ Ryan asked. Firth looked somehow diminished in his chair.

‘We have been at war with the wrong people,’ Firth sounded wounded.

‘And we still don’t know how to break the curse.’ They sat together.

‘I’ll come back with you,’ Ryan murmured. Firth looked up. ‘I said I would even if I didn’t have any answers,’ he added.

‘It would not be safe. I will need to inform my people what I have discovered,’ the king said.

‘And I’m still related to the murderer. Just... the wrong side of the family,’ Ryan summarised. The merman nodded.

‘Many of my people may imagine that killing the last of the line will end the curse,’ murmured the king.

‘But won’t you... won’t being separated kill you?’ Ryan croaked. His stomach was twisting in knots. He didn’t want this man to die.

‘Most likely. Perhaps it will be a just payment for the decisions I have made.’

‘That’s bullshit! None of this was on purpose. This proves it!’ Ryan shouted, shaking the book.

‘You couldn’t have known.’

‘And I didn’t try to find out the truth. I just killed as many as I could,’ Firth replied blandly. Ryan fell silent again. He got up and joined Firth on the couch. As his shoulder pressed against the other man, he realised the taller was shaking slightly.

’I’m coming with you. That is my decision,’ Ryan whispered. Firth hesitated, then put an arm around him, drawing him closer to share warmth. They sat in the dark of the house, watching the flames in the grate, apparently done with talking.

Outside, the thunder rumbled on.

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END

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