The Surface Breaks(68)

Ceto told me the truth. My eyes boring into his, and I am not afraid. You killed our mother.

“I didn’t—” the Sea King starts, but he can barely be heard over Talia’s weeping. “I wanted to protect you.” He looks at each of my sisters in turn, seeking support, before turning to Cosima. “My darling girl, you don’t believe this, do you?” She is uncertain, her eyes darting between me and our father. She doesn’t know what to believe.

You killed our mother, I say again.

And this time, my sisters swim away from the Sea King, leaving him alone. That was his greatest fear, of course. For who would the king be if he had no one to dominate? How could he stand tall if he did not have his daughters to look down on?

“No.” He tries to go towards them. I will him to stay still, whispering incantations in my mind. I don’t know how I know these spells; it is as if the words are carved within my soul. They had been there all along, waiting for me to find them.

The Sea King sinks, as if in quicksand. “Help me,” he splutters, spitting out water, and yet none of my sisters move. I imagine his gills closing, taped shut. He will know what it feels like to have your last breath robbed from him, just as my mother did. “No,” he says, gasping. “Muirgen. Muirgen, please don’t do this.”

Don’t call me that. My. Name. Is. GAIA.

A forked tongue of lighting, a serpent licking the sky. You will call me by my name, old man. You will do as I tell you to do, for once. The light plunges dark, the sun painted over. I will bend this world as I please, in ways you could only dream of.

“Zale will come,” the Sea King shouts, wrestling to keep his head above water. “No matter what you do to me, Zale will bring an army and fight this war. He will destroy you all.”

I know Zale will come. My mouth waters at the thought of it, of what I will do to him. What I will do to them all. And I will take care of him, Father; isn’t that what you always told me to do? Don’t you worry about Zale.

“You cannot do this.” He is crying now – my father, who told us that tears were a sign of weakness and should be avoided at all costs. “You are just girls.”

We might be girls, I say, lifting my hand so that he can see the Sea Witch’s blade. His head is bobbing up and down, his mouth forming the word “no” when he drops under the water, like a steel anchor has been tied around his tail. I swish the blade sideways and twist it, imagining a thick needle hovering above the Sea King’s face, cutting into his flesh and sewing his lips shut with black thread. Perhaps it is time for my father to experience what it is like to be silenced.

But us “girls” don’t have to do what you tell us any more.

My father falls down, down, down. His body will sink to the kingdom, like all the human men before him, eyes still open as if searching for something. He will search for eternity.

Sisters, I say. They are huddled together, pale with shock. I want you to remember always how powerful you are. Never allow anyone to take that away from you, or try and make you feel small. The kingdom needs you to be brave now. I look at Nia again, and I think of what Ceto told me. The kingdom needs you to be your true selves. And my sister smiles at me. Living true is the most important thing any woman can do.

“Why are you talking like this?” Sophia asks. “There is still time for you to use the blade as the Sea Witch instructed. Why do you sound as if you are saying goodbye?”

Because I am.

I slice the blade through the air, lifting the blanket of night and calling the day in. The sun continues to rise. It is always there, the sun, even when we cannot see it.

“Gaia!” I hear my sisters screaming as I raise the knife, asking the sky to bless it, to sanctify it for this unholy task. “Gaia, no! Please don’t do this.”

(Who are you? Ceto’s voice in my head. And more importantly, who will you be?)

I have a real choice, for the first time in my life. I can be whatever I want to be.

I will be a warrior, I decide, driving the knife through the air and aiming true at my heart, the searing pain muffling my sisters’ cries. (I love you, sisters. I love you all.) I will grow my nails to claws and shave my teeth to blades. I will flay the skin from the bones of men like my father. I will tear them apart and I will eat them raw. Oh, I will set them on fire and devour their ashes whole.

I will be Rusalka. I will have my vengeance.

Mother. Mother, can you hear me?





Acknowledgements:

I would like to thank Lauren Fortune for approaching me with the idea for The Surface Breaks, thus fulfilling a long-held dream of mine to reinterpret this story in a feminist capacity. Your enthusiasm, encouragement, and support made the entire process of writing and editing this novel such a joy. I’ve loved working with you.

I would also like to thank Genevieve Herr, David Levithan, Lorraine Keating, Róisín O’Shea, Eishar Brar, Andrew Biscomb and everyone at Scholastic for working so hard on this book.

Thank you to my wonderful parents, as ever, and my sister, Michelle.

Thank you to my agent, Rachel Conway, and to Teresa Coyne for sending me incredibly helpful essays on merfolk mythology and fairytales.

Thanks to my friends and extended family, whose patience with me while I wrote this novel was extraordinary. Special thanks to Grace O’Sullivan, whose lovely name I stole for my mermaid.