A Wilderness of Glass - Grace Draven Page 0,8
two or three, with tiny webbed hands, rounded belly, and features still plump with baby fat. Brida couldn’t tell the child’s gender by the appearance of its face or torso, but there were differences between the pair on the exposed undersides of their tails not far from the flukes. The merman possessed two slits in the flesh, one long, the other much shorter and just below it. In the child, there was only the one long slit. If her assumption was right, the merchild was a girl.
Brida stared at the surf and then the distressed pair so far from it. The merman was much too big for her to move. She could see that in a glance, but if she was quick enough, she might be able to sneak the merchild into the water without the harvesters noticing.
Then what? Leave her in the water to drown? That inner voice, with its merciless reason, made her curse under her breath. She had no idea, no true plan for how she might possibly save these two on her own, and asking for help from the villagers wasn’t an option.
Moot’s ears pricked forward when Brida turned to her and shook her finger. “No barking, Moot. Understand? Hush.” The dog cocked her head to the side as if considering, her tail wagging. Satisfied, Brida shrugged off her baskets.
She pushed one to the side and used the other as a pail to scoop water from the pools. Liquid streamed from the basket’s holes, but enough stayed in for Brida to gently pour it over the merman. He gasped, a convulsive shiver rippling along his tail and up his torso. The muscles in his arms, chest, and midriff flexed, and blood streamed off his skin in pink ribbons. Still, he didn’t let go of the merchild.
The little girl twitched and mewed as Brida trickled water across her body. Brida crooned to her in a sing-song voice, words of reassurance she’d sometimes used to comfort her younger nieces and nephews after a spill in the garden or a nightmare during a nap. “Easy, love. You’re a brave girl. We’ll get you home soon.”
Lies always hung sour on the tongue, even when told with the best of intentions. Brida didn’t know if she could fulfill that implied promise to the merchild. Even if she managed to get her in the water, without the merman there with her, she wouldn’t survive. Some sea creature had already attacked the merman, gravely wounding him.
Overwhelmed with sympathy, Brida forgot caution, set the basket aside, and reached out a hesitant hand to push the lacy locks of seaweed hair away from the merchild’s face. Another shrill whistle nearly burst her eardrums. She had only a moment to catch a glimpse from the corner of her eye of an arching fluke before a powerful force slammed into her, flinging her sideways. She smashed into the rock face concealing the pools. A shockwave of pain bolted down her spine and up the back of her head while black stars exploded across her vision.
She sprawled on the wet seaweed, breath knocked out of her lungs. Moot’s frantic barking sounded far away, though the dog’s face was so close, they nearly touched noses. “Moot,” she whispered when she could finally breathe. “Stop.”
The dog whined and leaned forward to nuzzle Brida’s cheek with her wet nose. Brida turned away, wincing as the movement made her vision swim and her stomach roil. An odd set of clicks and pops sounded nearby, punctuated by a series of softer whistles that held the unmistakable tones of inquiry and regret. She must have hit her head harder than she thought if she was imagining such things.
An exploratory touch to her scalp told her she’d have a lump, but there was no blood. Her vision rapidly cleared, and her nausea faded as the pain dulled to a throbbing ache.
She met the merman’s wide-eyed stare. He’d drawn the merchild closer to him, sheltering her even deeper into the cove of his body. His mouth moved, emitting more of the clicks and short whistles that carried the ring of apology.
Brida clambered to her feet, swaying. She raised both hands toward the merman in a supplicating gesture. “Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She grabbed her basket and staggered to the pool for more water to pour on the pair. She bore no resentment toward the merman. He had only tried to protect his charge from an entity who might be a threat,