Dreaded Creatures Glide

Author’s Notes: I was overjoyed to see so many responses to the first chapter. I wasn’t sure this story would grab anyone, since a lot of it was dry back story, the chapter had no sex, and the character of the duke sort of flopped. I really loved all of your reviews, and everyone should check out Puka’s awesome drawing: http://i2.tinypic.com/6kk5yl1.jpg. It’s very eerie, and captures the exact blue I pictured. In response to a few of the comments, both big cats and dolphins were part of my inspiration for Far Seer. He also surprised me with his ferocity – I’d originally had him as your typical scared captive, but he bucked and came across very forcefully. I like it.

This chapter was very frustrating. I had three quarters of it written before I realized it was hideously boring. I redid it and added lots of violence. Consider yourselves warned!

The most haunting time at which to see them is at the turn of the moon, when they utter strange wailing cries; but the lagoon is dangerous for mortals then… -- J.M Barrie, Peter Pan

Of course it had to be him, Terry griped as he wandered through the halls, trying not to bump into the furniture in the poor light. Of course he would be sent to the duke’s mansion to fetch a few lousy papers in the middle of the night. What good was it to be considered the master’s favorite assistant if it didn’t let you escape from this nonsense?

Suterno had been apologetic about rousing him, at least, and insistent that the papers had to be fetched immediately. They concerned the merman, he had said, and only Terry could be trusted to fetch them. Terry had glowed at the compliment then, but wished now that Suterno had stowed it and spent more time on directions. He had found the papers stashed in the office Suterno had told him about, but he must have taken a wrong turn at that hideous fountain because now he was lost and doomed to wander the halls for eternity.

He turned a corner, and saw that he was near a set of doors with light showing through thick glass. Terry had a good guess as to what lay behind them, and if he was right he was much closer to getting out than he had thought. The doors were heavy, and swung shut loudly behind him, but it was worth the effort. He was in the duke’s gardens, all the way on the other side of the mansion from where he had started out. He was still confused about how to get out, but there had to be people here somewhere. Ever since the debacle with the merman, which people were *still* talking about weeks later, guards had been posted throughout the day, even at this ungodly hour.

“Hello?” Terry asked with a little trepidation. The duke’s appetite for the exotic was rumored to be extreme. Who knew what kind of monsters he had lurked around in the gardens? At least the merman was confined to his pool.

Terry was never going to run this kind of errand again, he promised himself, not for all the gold in Tierney.

“Hello?” he called out more loudly, walking slowly along the cobblestone path. “Is anyone there?”

“Who said that?” replied a deep male voice. More noise followed, although Terry could not make out any words from where he was.

“Over here!” he called out. “I’m very sorry to trouble you, but I’m lost and…”

The men came into view, then. There were three of them, shaggy fellows dressed in guards’ uniforms. They staggered slightly and didn’t look terribly sharp, but Terry assumed that the best and brightest would probably not be assigned to the graveyard shift of the duke’s gardens.

“Hey, it’s a pretty one, is it?” said one of the guards in a voice made loud by liquor.

“What’s it want?” asked another with a weedy look about him, peering at Terry with great effort.

“Yes, what do you want?” asked the third, the sharpest looking of the three and the most belligerent.

“I do apologize for troubling you, sirs,” Terry said. He assumed the best route here would be a polite one, and spoke in the tone he usually reserved for Doctor Suterno. “I came to retrieve a few papers for my master, Doctor Suterno, and have since become lost. I’d be much obliged if you could direct me to the exit.”

“He’d be much obliged if we could direct him to the exit,” mimicked the weedy-looking guard in falsetto. “Speaks like the captain, he does, little sniveler.”

“’Xactly,” said the first guard. “Like I was telling you ‘bout that dog-fucked idiot who got all of us into this mess. Inbred idiots, all of ‘em. You’d think anyone’d know better than to mess ‘round with the merman.”

“You come to look at the merman, boy?” asked the third guard, still sounding angry. “Thought you’d sneak in for a look maybe, did you?”

“No, of course not. I’m not stupid,” said Terry, trying to keep himself from snapping. “I’d really just like to get out of here.”

“Oh, so you think we’re stupid?” said the weedy guard. “Hear that? Some poncy little brat thinks we’re stupid!”

“No, I didn’t say that,” said Terry, growing irritated despite himself. “Look, if you would just tell me where to go I’d be happy to leave.”

“Call us a liar, now?” asked the third guard. “You’re not going anywhere.”

He grabbed at Terry, and wasn’t it just his luck that he was the biggest of them. Terry tried to back away, but was loathe to throw a punch. He was alone with three drunk and angry men, and it wouldn’t do to get angry. “Let me go,” he said as calmly as he could muster.

“What do you think, boys?” asked the third guard, ignoring Terry. “When whores are few a boy will do, hey?”

“Looks like the type that’d like it,” said the weedy guard with a sneer.

“Hey, wait a minute—” Terry tried to interject.

“I dunno,” said the first guard, looking a little dazed as he tried to reason through the alcohol. “If he’s some master’s brat he’s not worth the trouble.”

Terry picked that up. “Yes, my master would be terribly angry. Just let me go and I won’t tell him and we can forget this ever happened. Really, he would have your heads for it. He’s friends with the duke and—”

“Shut up!” said the guard holding him, and pushed him down. And then the second guard fell on him and that was that.

He fought the best he could. He had never been a laborer, but he wasn’t a weakling either, since lugging around Suterno’s bags and packages was often a duty of his. He’d gotten into a fair share of scraps, too. But these men were trained to fight. They might be inebriated, but they were bigger and stronger than him, and there were two of them.

“Want in, Smith?” asked one of the guards holding him, unruffled by Terry’s frantic struggling. “Teach the little noble brat a lesson?”

“Have your fun,” he heard. “Too much rum, anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” said one of the ones holding him, and then they started in on him.

There had been a few men who had bothered him before in his life. Jerry and George and the others teased him about his looks, of course, saying he was light on his feet and all the rest. There had been the occasional visitor to Doctor Suterno who had said something or tried to touch him, but Suterno had always told them to leave off and told Terry to never mind about it. He knew he was comely, as much as a servant might be, but he never did anything to encourage it and was nearly a man now besides. He didn’t understand this, how it could have happened so suddenly. He had tried so hard to be polite to them, not to aggravate anyone, the way he had tried for his whole life. He had done all that and they were still hurting him badly enough to make him cry out. There was a hand on his mouth, then, muffling him, and he was scared and confused and in pain.

It seemed to happen fast, at least, although it hurt miserably. It was a blur of pain and their laughing and cursing. He heard them curse a man he’d heard of, who’d died at the merman’s hands, and the duke, and him, and smelled wine and the sweat on their hands and maybe blood too.

There was shifting near his hands, and a belt around his wrists to tie them together. The guard in front of him moved, and then there was something near his mouth, he saw through tear-soaked vision. They slapped him and when he gasped there was something in his mouth. He realized what it was and bit down reflexively, coughing as blood spurted. A round of cursing followed and the men left off to tend to the guard he’d bitten, and he backed away like a scared animal, wiping at his mouth obsessively.

He realized they weren’t hold him anymore, and took off running.

It was awkward to run with his hands bound behind him, and the pain lancing up his gut. And the gardens, though lighter than the rest of the mansion because of the glass and skylights, were still dark. He ran almost blindly, knowing he was dead if the men caught him. He could hear them behind him, cursing him and promising every kind of terrible death. He needed to hide until he could get his bearings, but where? Surely the guards knew this place better than him. He came to another door and shoved it open with his shoulder, hoping against hope that the guards wouldn’t hear. He ran on, smacking into bushes and shrubs and cursing and crying, blinded by tears and branches that smacked into his face, until the ground ended beneath him.

He flew, it seemed, and then cold water swallowed him up, burning as the saltwater touched his abused mouth and behind. He thrashed, trying to open his eyes, closing them against the salty sting of the water, trying to scream and feeling salty, cold water choke him. Which way was up? He had never had much opportunity to swim, and could barely remember how. He was in so much pain.

He thrashed blindly, hampered by the water and the belt tying his hands together. Random images flashed before him: Doctor Suterno, Jerry and Vincent and the others, the cook that always pinched his cheeks, the dog whose leg he had healed, the slice of plum pudding he had eaten on his last birthday. Time slowed, the water seeping into him past the memories. The burn in his chest began to ease. He stopped struggling, feeling himself drifting through the water, sifting gently to the bottom. Maybe the rest of the pain would stop soon, he thought blearily.

Strong, warm hands grasped his torso, pulling him up. The guards again? He struggled, trying to cry out, swallowing water. He broke the surface and thrashed harder, jerking his arms against his restraints, coughing up lungfuls of water. He kicked at the man holding him, panicking, blinking frantically, shivering. His feet hit scales. One of the pool’s fish?

Then his vision cleared.

Flat blue eyes stared at him, almost glowing in the soft light. Terry froze. It wasn’t a guard holding him. It wasn’t a man at all.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Not all the notes in the world could have prepared Terry for this. This was no wounded animal. This was a monster from the deep. Suddenly all the rumors Terry had heard from the other servants came rushing back. He’d killed a man, they said – a noble, even. They said if you came too close he’d snatch you, drag you down to the bottom of the pool and rip your throat out with his razor teeth. They said he moved so fast he was like lightning. Like death. They hadn’t mentioned his eyes, Terry thought, bright and blue and mesmerizing. Terry’s heart was pounding in his throat. He couldn’t move.

He waited, trapped in the merman’s firm grip, and barely breathed as the merman brought one hand up to Terry’s face. It was indeed blue at the fingertips, just as the doctor had said, as though the merman had been carefully stained with ink and hadn’t quite succeeded in washing it off. The merman touched his hair and Terry flinched away, but the merman didn’t hurt him. He seemed to be… stroking him, almost.

He was beautiful, Terry realized, even in just the dim moonlight that streamed down from the glass panes on the ceiling. His cheekbones were high, his mouth full and proud. And he was strong. His skin was smooth over lean muscle. He was holding Terry up effortlessly, barely bobbing in the water.

Scales brushed Terry’s leg again and he gasped. The merman cocked his head at him like an inquisitive dog. Struck by sudden, irresistible curiosity, Terry looked down. The blue tail swished below him, blurred by the barrier of the water. Terry had known that the creature was a merman – the blue hair alone made him alien – but the sight of the tail made him feel faint.

“Could you –” his words cut off for a moment in his rough, sore throat, “Could you put me down, please?” The words seemed empty and pathetic when he said them, but what else could he say?

The merman narrowed his eyes at Terry, and then made strange clicking noises. Those teeth really did look sharp, Terry noticed, fear spiking in him.

“Please, just put me back at the edge of the pool and I’ll go, please please.” He pointed at the edge awkwardly with his chin, trying to squirm out of the merman’s grip. And then he was moving, gliding, because the merman’s torso barely moved as his tail propelled them to the side of the pool. He set Terry down at the edge with surprising gentleness, took hold of Terry’s bound wrists and bent his head to them. Terry craned his neck and tried to jerk away, but the merman’s grip was as inescapable as the guards’ had been. Terry held his breath, waiting for a bite, but suddenly his hands were free. The merman had freed him, when he could easily have torn him apart. He rubbed at his sore wrists, trying to make sense of what was happening. It was as though time had slowed.

He looked at the merman again. “Do you – understand me?” The merman just stared back at him with those unreadable blue eyes. He began to click again, his speech high and rapid, but was cut off by the crashing of the guards coming into the garden. “You can’t hide, you little cunt! Fuck, this garden’s a fucking forest.”

Terry jumped and began to get up, but the merman took hold of his arm. “No, no. Please,” Terry begged, trying uselessly to escape the merman’s grip. “Please let me go. I need to go. They’ll kill me. Let me go, dammit.”

The merman only clicked at him, his gaze penetrating. Terry groaned. He was going to die.

More crashing, and suddenly two guards appeared from the bushes. It was the third guard and the first one, the one who hadn’t wanted to hurt him. “There you are you – oh, fuck.”

Terry felt the merman’s grip leave him, and then he was just a blur in the water, barely visible until suddenly he leapt out of the water at the other edge of the pool, where the guards were standing. He rose straight out of the water, freakishly silent, and grabbed the big guard by the neck. He crashed to the floor as the merman fell back into the water, but did not fall into the pool. And then the merman leaned forward to the guard’s neck, and blood was everywhere, black in the dim light, spreading through the clear waters. Terry gasped, horrified. The man was thrashing at the side of the pool, grasping at his neck, but it was useless. His movements stilled to twitches as the merman turned to watch the first guard run off. The merman shrieked at his fleeing back, fierce and inhuman, and Terry had to clap his hands to his ears.

Terry watched, spellbound, terrified, as the merman turned back to the dead man, who was still and pale. The merman was doing something to his body, but Terry couldn’t discern what, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Oh gods, was the merman… eating him?

Suddenly the merman turned back around, and skimmed across the water back to Terry, his human half almost entirely clear of the water. Terry knew he should run, should try to get away, but he was still stuck in that slowed time, and the merman was looking at him again with eyes as fascinating as they were terrifying. Caught in the merman’s gaze, it took Terry a moment to realize that the merman was holding something out to him. He looked at the dark bundle, and back at the merman, who held it out more insistently. He reached out tentatively, and took it. It was cloth. Clothes, Terry realized. The merman had taken Jed’s tunic from him. Terry realized he was cold. Freezing. He put the tunic on, feeling wetness at the neck that had to be blood. He didn’t care. Any sort of covering was welcome, even the tunic of his dead rapist. It was big on him, and he crossed his arms, glad for the warmth.

The merman was still staring at him. Anticipating, it seemed. “Th – thank you,” said Terry, hesitantly. He bowed his head a little. The merman, after a moment, inclined his head slightly in return. Then he held his hand to his chest and made another noise, something that began as almost human and ended in a high, alien lilt.

Terry stared, uncomprehending. The merman repeated the motion, and the noise, and then held out his hand to Terry, pointing.

His name, Terry realized. He said his name, and he wanted Terry to respond.

“Terry,” he replied, holding his hand to his chest as the merman had done.

“Kee-kee,” the merman pronounced carefully. Terry laughed, a pathetic, gasping noise, the result of looming hysteria, and saw the merman start slightly at the noise. Terry caught himself. He couldn’t give up now. “Kai?” he tried. He knew he was butchering the merman’s name, but it was as much of it as he could pronounce.

The merman, amazingly, smiled, although it took Terry a blood-freezing moment to realize he wasn’t just baring his oversharp teeth. “Kee-kee,” the merman repeated.

“Kai,” said Terry. He laughed again, feeling hysteria and exhaustion creeping up on him. He was sitting in a dead man’s clothing talking with a merman after being raped.

“I need to go,” he realized aloud, before he broke down completely. The merman cocked his head again. “Thank you,” Terry said again, trying to rally himself. “Thank you for saving my life and not, um, eating me or anything.” The merman just looked at him silently. Terry clambered awkwardly to his feet, pain lancing through him. He needed to get home. Distantly he realized his master would be angry that he did not retrieve the papers he was sent for, but right now Terry couldn’t care less. He just wanted to go home. He turned to head for the door, making sure it was a different door than the guards had come from.

“Kee-kee,” the merman said, the sound strange and sad, and Terry turned, almost against his will, to look back at him. The merman was staring at him still. “Kee-kee,” he repeated. The loneliness in the name was out of place in the lethal mouth.

“I’ll – I’ll come back, Kai,” Terry promised, the words tearing at him, and then he turned again, and forced himself not to look back.

88888

Far Seer rested at the shallow edge of the pool, leaning his head on his forearms, waiting to drift into sleep. It was not night, but he rarely felt the urge to swim about the pool anymore. It was pointless: there was no where to go, no way to escape the humans who came to poke his wounds or watch him. Instead he replayed in his mind the events with the human Kee-Kee.

He had been sleeping when something had entered the garden. He remembered the fear he’d felt, especially when he had realized it was night. The humans never came at night. He’d waited underwater, curiosity warring with fear. Any change in routine was tremendously exciting.

He remembered the crash that had been Kee-kee falling into the water. At the time he hadn’t been sure what had entered his pool. He’d smelled blood, and rut, but whatever it was had been thrashing, making enough bubbles to obscure its shape. Far Seer had approached cautiously, drawn by curiosity and the scent of the blood, on the lookout for a trap. The humans were insidiously crafty.

Then the thrashing had slowed, and he had realized that it was a human that had fallen into the pool. The ponderous legs, it had appeared, were not very effective in the water. Its hands had been bound behind it. Far Seer had come closer, still on the lookout for a trap, trying to decide whether to kill the human or just let it drown on its own.

The smell of sex had been sharper up close. Males, Far Seer had smelled, and more than one. The smells had confused him: this human was clearly a male, but not one of the ones Far Seer had smelled.

The human was wounded, Far Seer had noticed. There were bruises about his hips and chest. Tendrils of blood were snaking through the clear water, growing lazier as the human stopped thrashing the waters. He lay still finally, sinking to the bottom. He would die soon. Someone had bound his hands and hurt him, and now he was drowning.

Goaded by an urge he hadn’t been quite able to identify, Far Seer had borne the human to the surface. He had struggled when he was able to draw breath again, but Far Seer hadn’t minded greatly. Humans had remarkably dull teeth, and this one didn’t even have the use of his hands.

Far Seer could see quite comfortably in the darkness, and he had been struck, up close, by the exotic colors of the human. He had hair the color of wood, of earth, of things Far Seer had only heard about in the tales from wizened merfolk. His skin was pink at the ends, softer than merfolk skin. The human had finally looked at him, and his eyes had been the same strange brown. Far Seer had been entranced, and had reached out almost without realizing to touch the exotic hair. The human, Kee-Kee, had stayed very still. It had been the first time a human had been so vulnerable before him, not even struggling. Far Seer had vowed to himself, as he did circles in the white pool, that he would kill any human whom he found so close, but instead he had found himself wanting to protect this creature looking at him so clearly.

The human had made noises at him then, low and soft, afraid. “Don’t worry,” Far Seer had said. “I won’t hurt you.” He knew the humans did not understand merfolk tongue, but perhaps it would understand his tone. Instead the human had sounded a little more desperate when he spoke, and had pointed to the edge of the pool. Far Seer had understood then. He had begged the humans as eloquently as he could to let him go after they’d pulled him aboard. He’d pointed and gestured and even crawled, pathetically, towards the side of the boat, until they’d grabbed him and pulled him deeper into the boat. Looking at the human then, Far Seer had felt the urge to pull this human deeper into the water, down where he could not escape. But the feeling dissipated as he looked into the human’s sad, brown eyes. He took the human to the edge of the pool and set him down gently, mindful of his wounds and his strange, weak legs.

Noticing the human’s hands were bound with something relatively soft, not metal or rope, he had bitten them through. The human could have tried to hurt him then, Far Seer realized as he recalled the moment, but he hadn’t. He had rubbed his wrists and stared at Far Seer, as Far Seer studied him. He had never seen legs so close up before without clothes covering them. Why, even the human’s genitals had been visible. Far Seer had also seen the bruising about the human’s hips. The blood smell had been stronger there. Perhaps these places were more vulnerable on a human, he had pondered.

The human had spoken again, his voice questioning, still low and fearful. Far Seer had been struggling to understand when a crash had announced the presence of the humans. Far Seer had nearly grabbed the human, who had flinched at the sound, into the water, but settled for making sure the human didn’t run away on land, where Far Seer could not follow. Then the humans had come closer, and Far Seer had smelled the blood and rut on them.

Even now, alone in the pool, Far Seer bared his teeth, wrath pulsing through him at the memory. The men were his guards, whom he heard from time to time, who had struck him down when he attacked Watcher, who had hauled him out of the water whenever the humans had wanted to poke at his wounds. They had hurt this pretty human and he had wanted them dead. He had caught the first by the throat easily, and he had collapsed under Far Seer’s weight. The second had run crying into the night. “Coward!” Far Seer had yelled after him, the word stretching to contain all his rage and contempt. The human, his human, Kee-Kee, had cried out at the sound, and Far Seer had hoped he understood.

Thinking of the human, Far Seer had turned back to the first guard, wondering if the human would want his weapon. Humans seemed very fond of them. Maybe the guard had a shell or something Far Seer could give him as a trophy. Or maybe…

Manipulating the human clothes had been difficult. Far Seer had always been considered dexterous amongst his people, but clothes were foreign and confusing things. He’d only managed to get one of them, and that had blood on it, but his human had snatched it up gratefully, and clothed himself with practiced ease. Far Seer had admired the skill even as he’d lamented the chance to see the human body up close. Most of the human’s legs at least, had still been visible.

More speech from the shivering human, and then he had bowed his head to Far Seer. Far Seer had tried to speak to the humans many times before, and had come to think it was useless. They always snapped in their incomprehensible tongue, always angry or afraid. But this human, this human had *communicated* with him. Far Seer had bowed his head in return, elated that he could understand the human without words. He had done something, then, that he had never done with a human before.

“Far Seer,” he had said, touching his hand to his chest. Names were not easily given amongst the merfolk. Far Seer had worked a long time to achieve his name, and he did not speak it very freely. But this human had done more for him in minutes than any human had ever done since he’d come to them, and he had wanted to introduce himself. He had hoped the human would understand. Humans had names, did they not?

The human had taken a few moments to comprehend, but had spoken his own name, hand to his chest. Far Seer had tried to pronounce it, his tongue tripping against his teeth. That had gotten a laugh from the human, Kee-Kee, like the bark of a seal, and Far Seer would have been offended if he hadn’t heard the exhaustion in it. Kee-Kee had gamely tried to repeat Far Seer’s name back to him, and had soundly butchered it. Far Seer hadn’t cared. He had spoken with a human!

The human had rambled then, clearly near breaking point, and Far Seer had wanted to help. Kee-Kee was his connection to the human world, and he had found himself filled with the urge to help this human. Watching the human try to stand, he had wished suddenly, and for the first time, for legs, so that he could help Kee-Kee stand. It had seemed so certain that he would fall. But Kee-Kee had managed on his own, and Far Seer had wondered for the first time if humans were not as weak as he had thought.

The sight of Kee-Kee leaving had hurt him. He had meant to keep still, but had found himself calling out after the human. And he had turned! He had turned and spoken, even though he was tired and wounded and afraid, and then he had gone.

And he had not come back.

Far Seer left the side of the pool in a splash, restlessly flitting down to one side of the pool and back. It had been weeks, and Kee-Kee had not come back. Far Seer called his name over and over each night, eyes and ears pricked, and each morning he lamented that the human had not come.