As I sink below the surface, something broad and firm wraps around my waist, and what little light above me goes black.
The Mer-Mate
I thoughtdeath would be darker.
Itfeelslike I thought it might. I’m weightless, floating.
Peaceful.
A current is buffeting me, like being rocked in a cradle. My breath feels heavy, but strangely bracing, like the insides of my lungs have been scoured clean of a lifetime of dirt.
How am I breathing if I’m dead?
I blink my eyes open, and the searing burn floods back, and I slam them shut again.
I take another, laboured inhalation, and try to make sense of where I am. A diffuse light surrounds me. Not the mottled sky of the storm, or even the bright sun of the morning I left behind on shore. It’s almost like twilight.
I run my hands over my body, only finding bare skin. My slicker and overalls and boots … all gone. Still, I’m cool, but not cold, and oddly supported. Like simply existing is effortless. I turn my head in a swish of bubbles, and the reality of where I am slams into me.
I’m underwater.
Oh god. Ihaven’tdied yet. I’m still drowning.
Panic jolts me to my senses as I try to sit up, but I'm already floating, so I just spin in place. Water is pressing in all around me, filling my mouth. There’s no up. I slam my mouth shut, holding my breath, struggling to ... what?
I was so close.
Tears spring behind my eyelids, burning more than the salt of the ocean. My lungs heave against the lack of oxygen. I thrash, and something slick and smooth grazes my wrists.
Dying was bad enough the first time I thought it was happening. This? This is torture. How many times do I have to go through this?
Even the soft twilight is fading as my breath runs out. Whatever is binding my wrists firms the more I struggle against it, until I can’t fight anymore. Instinct takes over and my lungs pull in sea water.
And the burning goes away.
I exhale, and warm water flows from my mouth. Experimentally, I pull water into my mouth again. It’s harder than breathing air, but I’mbreathing. My chest expands as my lungs fill with the cold ocean, and I feel more awake than I ever have in my life.
I’m breathing water.
I’m not dead, but apparently I just became an aquatic fucking creature.
Adrenaline floods my system, and a maniclaugh erupts from my throat, ending in a tiny stream of bubbles. It sounds like a laugh, but ... not.
Because sound travels differently underwater.
Which is where I currently am. Breathing.
Maybe it wasn’t impossible.
When I peel my eyes open, the salt burns less, though everything is still blurry.
Not so blurry that I can’t make out the dark shape looming in front of me.
Whatever it is, it’shuge. It moves with the current flowing around me. It’s only when I reach out to touch it that I realize it’s what is tethered to my wrists, restricting my movements, and I flounder to free myself.
“Stop struggling.”
The deep voice resonates around me, and I freeze, my hair clouding what little vision I had.
