The Surface Breaks(20)

He continues to visit in an official capacity, smiling when I float into the reception as if he hasn’t seen me every night. Cosima rushes to his side as soon as he arrives at the palace with a: “How are you, Zale?” and: “You look so well, doesn’t he look well, sisters?” and: “Are you comfortable, Zale, I can get you another cushion if you so desire?” She fusses incessantly, until Father sends her to her room, complaining of an ear-ache.

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” he asks Cosima. “Muirgen is always quiet. It’s much more attractive for a maid to be quiet.”

I am quiet because I have nothing to say. Every Saturday, Nia and I sit in the palace’s reception room with Zale and Marlin while Grandmother hovers in the corner, keeping a close eye on us to ensure we don’t behave inappropriately. Where are you at night-time? I want to ask her. Why don’t you protect me then?

“You do seem rather quiet,” Zale says to me, after he told me a joke and his punchline landed into silence. “I’m sorry,” I say automatically. I can’t afford to anger Zale, not now. “I found it hard to understand. Can you explain it to me? You’re so intelligent, Zale.” I see Grandmother’s head jerk up as if in surprise at my response, but then she nods. It is easier for girls to be agreeable, she has always said. Don’t you want an easy life, my child?


“Muirgen.”

I am counting the fish as they swim past my tower. One fish, two fish, three fish more.

“Mama used to say that counting fish helps you fall asleep,” Talia told me when I was little. “Look out the window and tell me how many you can see, Muirgen.” I would fall asleep soon after, dreaming of fish and a woman with hair as red as mine. Talia was seven when our mother left, and she can remember. Those memories might be patched together with half-forgotten bedtime stories and kisses on foreheads and whispered I love yous, but it is more than the rest of us have. And we resent Talia for that.

“Muirgen,” my grandmother says again.

Gaia. My mother called me Gaia.

“Muirgen, I know that you are awake.” Grandmother swims closer to the bed, sitting by my side. “Muirgen, look at me,” she says, and there is an urgency in her voice that makes me roll over and face her. “My child, you must not worry. You must not worry about the Salkas.”

“What…” I need to find words. Safe words. Words that will not get me in trouble. “But why would I be worried about the Salkas, Grandmother Thalassa?”

She is unadorned at this time of night, the hair hanging freely around her face is the same silver-grey as her tail. There are tiny gaping wounds in her tail from the pearls, the flesh taking longer to heal these days.

“I know what you did, my Muirgen. And I need to tell you that there will be no retribution from the Salkas for your actions. I have spoken with Ceto and all is well.”

I push myself to sitting on the bed. “What? You spoke with the Sea Witch?” She nods and I carry on, bewildered. “After what her Salkas did to Uncle Manannán?”

“Don’t.” My grandmother raises her hand, as if she wants to push the words back down my throat. “Do not say his name.” Her voice cracks. “Do not speak of things you do not comprehend, Muirgen.”

“I’m sorry, Grandmother,” I say. “But how did you find out what I did? What did the Sea Witch tell you?”

“So many questions,” my grandmother sighs. “All that matters is that you are safe.”

“She will not attack us? She hates the Sea King so…”

“Oh, your father and Ceto have fought since they were children,” she says, suppressing a small smile. “They are two sides of the one coin. They need each other, as much as they are both loathe to admit that.”

“Need each other? Father and the Sea Witch are mortal enemies.”

“There are many things that you do not understand about the ways of the kingdom, my child. About its history,” she says. Then tell me, Grandmother. Tell me that which I do not understand. Let me learn. “All you need to know is that your father will never hear of this,” she continues. “Surely that is the most important thing?”

Hope flares in me briefly – I am safe – and then dies down just as swiftly. This does not change much. Zale will still visit, and I am still not allowed to say no. I hate him, and I hate myself more. And my bones still ache and I will never see Oliver again, and what does it matter? For he woke with her name on his lips. Viola.

“This is good news,” I say. “I am grateful, Grandmother Thalassa.”

“There is more, is there not?” she asks. “Muirgen? I know there is more that you want to tell me.”

I pause, unsure if I can trust her but I need to talk to someone, anyone and then—

“I love him,” I say, the words shredding my throat in their desperation to be heard. My grandmother is silent for a moment, but her expression is not unkind.

“Love him? This human man?” she asks. I nod. “After everything they have taken from us?” She runs her hands through her hair, silver strands like rings on her thin fingers. “You cannot tell a soul of this, Muirgen. Whatever you think you ‘feel’. Do you understand?” I catch the edge of panic in her voice. “Your father will… I can’t lose you too. I just can’t.”