I swam along the sunken wreckage, seeking out treasures. The ship's name was the Folly, and she had come down in a storm some weeks prior. A small sloop, meant to travel quickly over the waves and outrace trouble from larger ships, it had landed on its side on the edge of a chasm. The sharp rocks had pierced its hull and cracked it open, giving me several ways inside.

Men almost always brought pretty things with them when they sailed, and that was what I sought. Gemstones and metal strands, forged by heat into shapes, were prized by the Mer, since we could not forge metals without risking death near heated magma seams. Sometimes, items were delicate and made of wood, though they never lasted below the waves without care. This made them very precious to the Mer.

Even though I had only been here a couple of hours, I had already collected a sack of golden coins and bars, a few metal strands with gemstones, and ear bobbins. The haul on the ship, with its yellow-clad sailors, was worthy of the time it had taken me to get there. When the next Gathering was held, I would have much to trade for fine things.

Satisfied with my haul, I slung the sack over my shoulders and reoriented myself, turning myself to swim for the nearest gap in the ship's hull. The ship had shifted several times already with me inside, and I had unfortunately ran into a small stream of bubbles and salt-less water, the heavier liquid searing my scales.

The chasm itself had likely been created by a collapsing bubble of air in the limestone of the ocean floor, which meant more of these bubbles were likely present. Filled as they were by salt-less water, having them crumble underneath was a nightmare for the Mer. The salt-less liquid burned us like fire burned the skin of man, and it was terribly difficult to swim in the thicker, heavier liquid.

As I swam for my exit, it seemed like the earth beneath me had heard my ill-advised thoughts.Around me, it growled and rumbled, and the vessel shifted again.

Unlike before, these weren't minor shifts; I could hear the ocean floor breaking underneath me, could hear wood snapping, and the world twisted around me.

The exit, what had only seemed a short distance away, seemed terribly far now as I cut under collapsing beams and shifting furniture and debris, panic and fear making me clumsy.

I could feel my heart racing in my chest, feel my gills flutter wide open as I drew in more water for my lungs. I felt a jagged piece of wood slice into a fin and I hissed under my mask, urging myself onward. The exit was so close!

I closed my webbed fingers on the break in the hull, intending to launch myself forward, when with a loud, terrible cracking, the walls inside the hull broke, collapsing and pinning my tail.

I screamed in pain was the wood pinned me in place, the sound cutting through the water. I immediately tasted blood in the water, knowing that I'd suffered more than a scrape or cut. I felt bones bruise and maybe break, felt pained cries choke in my throat. Worst of all, I felt the ship shifting, sliding off the cliff towards the chasm below, a slow but eventually fatal fate.

I twisted, trying to curl back on myself to push up the wood, but it was heavy and my angle was bad, and I had no leverage. I tried a few more times, panic lending my arms strength, to no avail.

I straightened, intending to pull myself forward even if it meant ripping half my tail off, for falling into salt-less water would be agony and death. I gripped the edge of the hull again, and turned my face to stare out into the blue yonder, my teeth clenched behind my mask.

Instead of blue sea, I came face-to-face with a Man.

The shock of the unexpected sight – a bronzed-skin, blond-haired sailor with paintings on his skin – shocked me; I made a pained mewling sound, bubbles escaping my mask.

I realized then, in my pain, I had dropped my trident and was defenceless. As I struggled to free a knife from my breastplate, the Man swam over me and into the sinking ship. Bracing his feet against one wall, he pushed against the collapsed one, freeing my tail.

Why he helped me, I had no idea, but I didn't care. I pulled free, escaped the ship, and swirled around.

It was agony to move, and I knew I'd done some significant damage to my tail. The taste of blood in the water strengthened and I ventured a look down at my lower half. While the exposed flesh and missing scales looked terrible, I knew our healers would be able to set it right.

Still, bleeding as it was, the injury was not something to dismiss lightly. The blood would attract predators, vicious sharks and sly barracuda.

The Man came out and I could see the effort to free me had taxed him, too. He was cut and bleeding, and he swam slower than he should. I gazed around, knowing he would have had to come down with a bell, since he could not breathe water like I.

I would protect him and save him if need be, as I hated being in debt. He began to swim toward the bell, a distant metal apparition. I swam down and snatched up my trident, circling around him and warning away a curious shark with a few painful jabs.

After the shark was gone, I could see that the Man was in trouble; too slow, gill-less, he was not going to make it to the bell before his lungs demanded he breathe. I knew inhaling water for Men was deadly, as I had killed a few by holding them under for that exact purpose.

But not this one. This one had saved me.

I grabbed his hand and began hauling him through the water, my tail and webbed body able to gain quicker speed than his monkey-limbs.

As we neared the bell, I could see he was trying hard to not inhale water, and I quickened my pace. I all but flung him up into the bell, then followed – breaking the surface just in time to hear him take a gasping, then coughing, breath of air.

I pulled myself upwards, curling my tail around his waist to keep it within the bell, so predators wouldn't grab it and haul me down and away. Sharks were tenacious, barracuda brazen.

“You have my thanks, Man,” I said, my voice muffled by my mask. It sounded weird in the air, in the echoing confines of the metal abomination in which I swam. I could feel his legs kicking, keeping himself afloat.

“I don't bloody believe it,” he said. “You're a mermaid.”

I rolled my eyes under my mask.

“Do all Men have the ability to state the obvious?” My voice, sharp as it was, made him startle, and then sheepishly laugh at himself. “And I prefer Mer, Man. It is what we call ourselves.”

He hooked his hand into a metal loop, keeping himself braced. The other hand reached out and touched my tail, and it took every ounce of self control I had to not lash out and smack him. The caress was far too personal amongst the Mer, but for him, a Man, my tail must drive him to curiosity. He did not mean to be rude. Or too personal.

So I forgave him his forwardness.

That, and I could feel a need for him to touch more of me burning in my core, and knew that Neptune himself must have put that ship there to trap me, this Man there to save me, at this exact moment when the yearly cycle of fertility was beginning.

A Sea Tale: Saved by the Bell

By Hypatia the Librarian

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