From The Deep Read online

  “Do you often follow dolphins, Captain?”

  His eyes twinkled. “I’ve been at sea almost thirty years and seen many a strange sight. Following a dolphin has never steered me wrong yet. Nor this time, either.” He scratched his neat gray beard. “Too bad about McAdams, though. He’s got a reputation. I would have liked to meet the man.”

  A pain stabbed through Marianne’s chest. She rubbed at it and blinked back tears.

  After a moment, Captain Jamison asked, “Do you still intend to go to Jamaica?”

  “Yes.” If Jonah was alive, perhaps he’d have the good sense to look for her there. Unless he really was a merman prince.

  Captain Jamison patted her shoulder. “Tis a lucky day for you, lass. With a good breeze we’ll drop anchor in Kingstown harbor in naught but a week.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Marianne replied.

  Her heart felt like a lead weight in her chest as she watched the ship’s crew roll barrels of fresh water from the island spring onto the landing boats and back out to the Hesperus. All she had left of the island and of Jonah, besides his ragged clothing, was a fierce burning belief that he couldn’t be dead or she’d know it in her heart.

  As the island sank below the horizon, a dolphin, perhaps even the same creature who had heralded her rescuers, swam alongside the ship. It sported in the waves that flowed from the sides of the quickening vessel.

  “If he is alive,” Marianne said to it, “I wish you could find him and tell him that I’m safe.”

  The dolphin’s grinning face turned a large intelligent eye towards her. She believed for a shocked moment that it actually nodded before leaping away and swimming off. A pod of its kin took escort duty along both sides of the ship and Marianne was aware of their company every time she stood at the rail.

  The sounds of the ship and the voices of those around her were strange to her ears after the days on the island with only Jonah to speak with. She took her meals with the captain and his wife but spent many hours alone watching the waves, hoping that somehow Jonah’s impossible story was true.

  At night she watched the moon rise and noted how it was growing towards full. She remembered that Jonah had told her that he must return to his home under the sea before the moon reached its fullest state this month or he would never be able to return. If she was to see him again, time was running out.

  The Hesperus dropped anchor in Kingstown harbor on the morning that Marianne knew that moon would be at its fullest. Her heart ached even as she felt pleasure in the sights and sounds and smells of the busy docks of the island she knew as home.

  A lighter rowed to the ship. The man who leaped aboard the Hesperus moved with grace, his graying hair and sea green eyes marked him. “Marianne,” he shouted when he caught sight of her.

  “Papa!” She couldn’t hold the tears back when he caught her into his arms.

  When she could speak again, she asked, “How did you know I’d be aboard? Did my messages reach you so soon?”

  “Just yesterday I heard from the bank and Nantucket Whaling. I’m sorry for your loss, my dear.”

  They were sitting on two barrels away from the bustle of the crew unloading cargo. The sun shone in Marianne’s eyes as she gazed at her father’s familiar face. “How did you know I’d be aboard this vessel? The ship I originally boarded in Nantucket went down at sea.”

  “I know,” he said and looked away. “Let’s talk about that later. Come on, I’ve got a house in the harbor now.”

  “You told me once that you couldn’t bear to leave the mountains.” Surprise had her smiling for the first time in days.

  “I changed my mind,” was all he would say.

  She made her thanks and farewells to Captain Jamison and his wife. Her father invited them to dinner that night as a small measure of appreciation for rescuing her then he took her to his spacious house that overlooked the harbor.

  It was a lovely view, she thought later. It was after dinner and the Jamisons had returned to the Hesperus so that they would be ready to lift anchor with the morning tide.

  The moon, full and brilliant, shone a light she could have read by over the land and sea turning everything into silver and shadows. Melancholy held her motionless as she watched. A knock on her door startled her.

  “Come,” she said, turning away from the balcony.

  Her father came into the room. “Shall we walk?”

  “In the night?” He’d never been one for such things.

  “Yes, in the moonlight on the beach.”

  She shrugged in denial of the skittering of her heart. They walked down the wooden stairs that led to the beach in silence. Once on the sand, Marianne removed her shoes and stockings. The coolness of the grains soothed her tired feet. Her father removed his footwear as well, an action that again shocked Marianne.

  “Are you my father?” she demanded.

  He laughed. “Of course. Why ask?”

  “My father would have been shocked to see me in bare feet and would have demanded I dress more appropriately. He would rather have died than be seen walking the beach without shoes on himself.”

  He looked at her with a quiet expectancy. Then he took her hand and walked with her down the beach. The moon lit a path for them. “Your father under went a … a sea change after you left. I examined my life and the decisions that I had made. I didn’t like being lonely on top of my high mountain when everyone I loved had gone away, either over the sea or under it.”

  “So you came here, to the shore.”

  “Yes, so I could walk the beach and hear the waves, and listen for the sounds of the dolphins.”

  “The dolphins?”

  “They bring news.”

  Her breath shortened. Ahead of them, within the silver pathway of moonlight, Marianne spied a long object. It had the form of a man.

  “Oh.” She stopped short. Hope flared within her. It couldn’t be, could it? She let go of her father’s hand and ran towards it.

  * * * *

  Egrine tried to stop him, as did Sebast, Mestaline, even his father, but Jonah sped away from his father’s kingdom as if pursued by a school of thresher sharks. All he could think was that he had to reach Marianne before the deadline, before the next full moon. He had less than a fortnight to talk to her, decide what to do.

  A babe? Then she must be of the Mer, as the Mer witch had confirmed. Marianne would find it hard to believe, but it was surely a blessing. She’d said that her inability to have a child had caused a rift between her and her late husband’s family. He grinned as he acknowledged his part in impregnating her. He was to be a father.

  The wind and tides worked against him as Jonah swam back towards the island. He struggled against the currents until he finally managed to find their beach. It was mid morning, nothing stirred on shore.

  “Marianne,” he called from the waves.

  Only the sounds of the wind in the trees, the crash of the waves in their high tide dance, met his ears.

  She must be at the spring, he thought, or perhaps still asleep. If he transformed back into his human form, he’d be unconscious for hours. It didn’t matter; he’d be with her again.

  As he flopped himself onto the beach something nudged his feet. A dolphin broke the surface of the water just as Jonah spoke the magic words and the pain knifed through him at the same time that panic took him. She was gone.

  This time there was no shade, no gentle arms to guide him back to consciousness. Only the relentless sun and the grit of coarse sand greeted him when Jonah finally awoke. His body ached as it always did, but this time as he sat and surveyed the deserted beach, his heart ached, too. He felt the emptiness of the silence and acknowledged the last words he’d heard from the dolphin.

  A crab skittered across his bare legs. He pounded his fists against the sand, frustration and fear nearly doubling him over. The dolphin called to him from the waves. At first Jonah refused to listen, he wanted nothing more than to sink down in despair, his first and last chance of
happiness in his long life now gone. But the dolphin would not stop chattering away and at last its words started to make sense to Jonah.

  A ship, the dolphin had brought a ship to Marianne. The ship had taken her away. Yes, Jonah could well imagine it. In the soft sand he saw the indentations of many pairs of feet. He struggled to stand, dizziness made him sway but he forced himself to find his way to the spring. In the mud at its edge he found the marks of heavy objects and surmised that the crew had taken on water.

  He prayed that the crew was captained by a man of honor who would protect Marianne from the baser instincts of some of the seamen he had known.

  Refreshed from the cool water and shadowed woods, Jonah made his way back to the ashes of their last fire. He noticed that the remnants of many logs lay there. They were warm to his touch. It couldn’t have been more than a twelve hours since the ship had departed, could it?

  He swayed again as he made his way to the edge of the water. Determined to find her, even if he couldn’t have her, he dove into the waves. The transformation drained him even more this time. Usually returning to his Mer form brought him relief and energy. This time he was exhausted.

  A whistle and a ticking chatter accompanied another nudge. The dolphin swam before him, its mouth obscured by a large snapper. Grateful, Jonah ate. As he ate, the dolphin relayed Marianne’s message, that she was safe. Relief washed through Jonah as his energy returned.

  “Do you know where they go?” he asked.

  The dolphin nodded and turned to lead the way.

  “Will I get there in time?”

  The dolphin turned back and offered Jonah his dorsal fin to hold onto. Thus carried, Jonah and the dolphin sped into the deep.

  It was all Jonah could do to hold on. Though he could swim as fast as any dolphin, even at full strength he had not their stamina for long distance travel. He heard his friend call to other members of his kind and realized the dolphins were setting up a relay to carry him onward. When he felt one dolphin tire, another would come alongside so that Jonah could transfer his grip and get a fresh spurt of speed.

  Against the currents and against time they raced. Each night Jonah watched the moon rise and set, each night it grew more full bodied, each night he grew stronger and aided the dolphins in their marathon with the sea.

  The night of the full moon was upon them. They’d reached the island at last. A full pod of dolphins escorted his final carrier. As the eastern sky silvered in anticipation of moonrise the dolphin nosed Jonah out of the sea. It danced backwards on its tail before executing a remarkable flip that landed it back into the water.

  Jonah lay on the beach. If he transformed into a human now, he’d never be able to return to his people.

  He thought of his father and mother, of Sebast and Mestaline, of his friends and the creatures that he loved.

  Love, he thought, it had transformed him from a simple Mer prince into something quite different. He knew that if he returned to the sea he’d never have the love that he’d found with Marianne because his people didn’t understand the richness of the emotion.

  Love, help me now, he thought. Then he said the magic words as the first silver rays touched him. He braced himself for the agony, but this time he felt soft warmth as his tail split for the last time. His gills closed and his lungs breathed air.

  The dolphins sang a song of farewell.

  He lay on the sand, unable to move, until he heard the soft sounds of bare feet rushing towards him. He rolled onto his back and looked into a familiar pair of sea green eyes.

  Marianne had found him. He was home.

  The End

  Note to Readers:

  In creating this first story of the Mer Kingdom I realize that I left many of you with questions about what happened to Mestaline, Sebast, and even Egrine after Jonah left. This is the first in a series of longer stories, a taste, if you will, of a fantasy world that came to life as I wrote Jonah and Marianne’s story. I hope you’ll keep a weather eye out for more stories set in this rich world.

  While you’re waiting, you might enjoy my other romances that include a touch of the unexpected. The following titles can all be ordered from New Concepts Publishing, www.newconceptspublishing.com : Virtual Heart, Entangled, The Talisman, Melodi’s Tune, and Nicked by Eros. My contemporary romantic comedy, The Commitment, is also available.

  Happy reading!

  Karin Huxman

  THE LADY OF THE LOCH

  By

  Taylor Manning

  Chapter One

  Aeryn cocked her head and listened. There it was again. The pitiable sound carried such unmistakable need that Aeryn felt her heart tug in sympathy. It was a heart-call--one heart to another--and it came from the rushes at the edge of the loch. Stepping gingerly forward, she pushed aside first one clump of reeds, then another, moving slowly, looking down, seeking the source of the call.

  "Did you find it?" Nib asked, following close behind her, his breath hot on her neck.

  "I think it is farther this way." Aeryn swept aside another stand of rushes and peered down at the marshy ground.

  Her hand flew to her breast and she gasped.

  "Well? What is it?" Nib shoved his long nose over her shoulder to get a closer look. "I’m hungry. Is it something to eat?"

  "Oh no, my dear Nib, you dinna want to eat this."

  Nib leaned further forward, flopping his horsy mane into her face, and stared down. "Why ... it’s a...."

  Aeryn brushed Nib’s mane out of her eyes and said, "Yes. It’s a bairn." She smiled as the babe, wrapped in a bright new tartan of black and forest green, ceased its mewling and looked up at her with huge emerald eyes.

  "Hello, wee one," she cooed. "What are you doing here on my loch?"

  "Are you sure I canna eat it?" Nib smacked his lips.

  Aeryn turned and scowled at her kelpie friend. "No, Nib. You willna eat the human baby. Its heart called to mine. Obviously it was put here for me to find, so I shall take it in, just as do all the other ladies of the loch."

  Returning her gaze to the child, she felt her heart settle into a warm glow. "I will foster this child as if it were my own."

  Nib’s nostrils flared as he blew out a sound of disgust. "Dinna matter. Bairns upset my stomach anyway."

  Aeryn ignored her waterhorse friend and reached down for the plaid-swaddled bundle.

  As she lifted him into her arms she could tell by its weight that the babe was not newborn, but how old was it? She had no idea how to judge such things, for her mother had not taught her much about caring for a child, fey or human.

  As the child seized onto her finger and pulled it into his mouth, she realized there was one thing she did know.

  "Nib, I need a goat. Quickly."

  * * * *

  A wail of pure anguish echoed off the keep’s stone walls and reached into the marrow of Leith MacEwan’s bones. He shivered and leapt to his feet, his hand instinctively flying to the hilt of his broadsword.

  All the men of Niall Campbell’s clan who had been lounging before the fire in the great hall did the same, each spinning around to face the source of the cry.

  The wail came from the laird’s wife as she stumbled down the staircase from above. MacEwan watched as Campbell ran to her side and the woman flung herself into his arms.

  "He is gone. My babe...." she wailed as she collapsed.

  Campbell’s face paled as he pulled her up and held her firmly by the shoulders. "Ellen, who is gone?"

  "Malcolm." She covered her face with her hands and her wailing grew louder.

  MacEwan took in the scene, trying to make sense of it all. Malcolm. That was the name of Campbell’s new son by this, his second wife. The bairn was the long-awaited son needed to ensure Clan Campbell’s future. If something had happened to him....

  MacEwan forced the thought away as he broke into a run, following the laird who had loosed his hold on his wife and flown up the castle stairs.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, MacEwa
n's mind sifted through the possibilities. The babe could be with his nurse somewhere else in the keep. Yet the anguished wailing continued, convincing him even as he tried to dispel the feeling, that indeed something dire had happened.

  The bairn had been stolen?

  Or worse?

  He and Campbell reached the nursery a moment later, immediately followed by the rest of the men of the clan. Even to MacEwan, completely unfamiliar with nurseries, the room seemed desolate, as though the walls themselves had a terrible story to tell.

  Campbell stumbled to the cradle and MacEwan didn’t have to look to know no bairn lay there, for Campbell fell to his knees and slammed his clenched fist against the stone floor.

  "Cruachan!" The battle cry of Clan Campbell echoed through the empty chamber.

  MacEwan approached the anguished man and laid a hand on his shoulder. "We will find who did this."

  "Yea, and should any harm come to my boy, the villain shall pay in kind."

  The words were uttered through gritted teeth and MacEwan knew there would be Hell to pay.

  "What is it? What has happened?"

  The woman’s voice came from behind him and MacEwan turned in time to see a lass with unbound flaming red hair push past the Campbell men, then him, to reach the laird’s side.

  Guessing this was Campbell’s daughter, Tyra, the one he had been sent to wed, he allowed himself a moment to inspect the lass with whom he was to ally the MacEwans of Otter.

  Her face was comely enough, with curved full lips and eyes of purest blue. She stood tall and slender, yet with a roundness of breast and loin that promised comfort in bedding. That thought took on a life of its own as he pictured the long legs hidden beneath her gown and what lay between them.

  He swallowed hard.