Chapter 17

            For the third time, Bayla nearly tripped on the wharf’s uneven planks. Nobody was around to witness her near pratfall, and the orca did not seem too bothered either. The only witness was a persistent seagull soaring over them, probably waiting for them to drop him a snack.

            “I told you, you shouldn’t read and walk at the same time,” chided Vince as he took her by the shoulders to steady her. He was not quick to release her, and he worried she might object to his touch. I’m only doing this to keep her on track. Yeah, that’s it. “And you did that the whole time we had breakfast, too.”

            Her eyes did not waver an inch from An Illustrated Guide to Puget Sound Wildlife. She was transfixed by the closeup images of a pod of black and white Dall’s porpoises, and Vince thought he saw a hint of drool around her mouth. “I am about to depart. This was a wonderous gift, and I have no way to take it with me. I need to get every bit of diversion I can before I go.”

            “Maybe you could make a watertight pouch with your Aqua Armor?”

            She shook her head, reluctantly tearing herself from her treasure. “I will not have hands once I turn back. It is why I only asked for one; time is short. It will be yours soon enough.”

            “Does it have to be? I mean, that Ivory Witch woman hasn’t shown up again. Could be that she gave up, or got called somewhere else. Maybe we can take some—”

            “Please, stop.” Bayla’s voice was like iron. “We agreed, I need to get back home.”

            Vince stifled a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. You’ll want to stop reading, though. We’re nearly to the stairs.”

            The wharf hugged Fin Island’s coastline and loomed a good fifteen feet over it, covering up a good chunk of the southern beach. Some of the older residents complained that the construction had ruined a perfectly good clam digging spot, but it was ideal for Vince and Bayla’s purposes. It gave them a spot where she could transform into her natural form out of sight and swim away with nobody the wiser.

            It’ll be like she was never here. Vince stifled another sigh as he steadied Bayla again. “You definitely shouldn’t read going down the stairs.”

            “Why not? You are there to balance me, after all.”

            Vince cast aside a fleeting urge to let her go and let her take her chances. I mean, I appreciate that she likes the gift, but I’ve felt invisible for the last hour!

            He pasted on a smile. There was no sense seeing her off in a bad mood. “I guess I am. Probably time to put it away, though. For real; the ground’s about to get rough.”

            The gap between the shore and the sandy beach was a mass of uneven stones covered in slick seaweed left by the last tide. Bayla finally relented, giving her precious book over to Vince. He stowed it in his backpack, noting that it was going to be about the only memento he would have of the orca.

They passed the rocks and ducked under a set of ropes clearly marked “off limits,” finally arriving at a more level stretch of sand. It took Vince’s eyes a moment to adjust to the shadows beneath the wharf, but Bayla darted ahead, squealing and echolocating to find a path between the barnacle-covered posts. He tried to follow, but he could not match her pace as she made her way to the water’s edge.

Vince almost thought she was going to give him an Irish goodbye when she came to a halt, turning to face him. A seam of light illuminated the top of her head, almost giving her a third eyespot.

            “I suppose this is farewell,” said Bayla, a note of sadness in her voice.

            “I guess it is,” said Vince. He fished his phone from his pocket. “Hold on a sec, let me get a picture.”

            She tilted her head. “Picture? Like the magic of the television or the book?”

            “Yeah, like that,” he said. “We call the, ah, picture making magic a camera, and my phone has one.” He wished that he had splurged on the next model up; he was worried he would get nothing but a mass of useless pixels. “Say cheese.”

            “What’s cheese?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she tried to parse the logic of the spell. “Cheese must be the magic word to make the camera function,” she declared.

“Not quite,” he said with a chuckle. “It makes you smile when you say it.”

“Oh, I see.” She nodded with understanding. “Impressive that this camera does not require an invocation, and that the artifact fits in your pocket. Such diverting magic. I shall miss learning about it.”

            Vince felt a knot in his throat. So glad I hit the video button instead. God, she makes normal junk sound amazing. “Nothing saying you can’t come back, right? This isn’t goodbye.”

            She hesitated. “I cannot often get away from my duties to the pod. I was only outside of the kelp forest because I slipped away.”

            “W-well,” he said, taking a moment to turn off the recording. No sense having video of me tearing up. “You’re welcome any time. Also, you never said cheese.”

            “Oh, yes. Cheese?” Her sharp-toothed grin was strangely lovely, and as she lifted up her head, the ray of light perfectly framed her face.

            It was a beautiful moment, the sort that only come along once in a lifetime. The lapping of the ocean as the tide ebbed, the attractive woman perfectly lit, even the distant cry of a seagull etched themselves in Vince’s memory. He almost did not need the camera.

            Almost. He still snapped a few shots.

            Vince paused. The seagull’s cry grew closer and closer. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the oversized sea-rat hopping towards them over the stones. It stopped at the rope divider, respecting the wharf’s rules more than Bayla or Vince.

            A frown creased Vince’s face. Something was off about the bird, but he was too far to make out what. He leveled his phone at it, zooming in.

            Something was off with its coloring; it was faintly blue, rather than the familiar white. The creature was much too large, and its golden bill was covered in daggerlike projections. Not quite teeth, but he did not have another word for them. Whatever this thing was, it was no gull.

            “Crap!” snapped Vince. “That’s got to be another one of that witch’s creatures!” He looked around for a rock the right size to hurl at it before it could lead its mistress back at them.

            Bayla was far ahead of him, bounding ahead with her superhuman strength. The fabric of her white sweater shifted, once again encasing her hand in a metallic dagger as long as her body. It separated from her main body, firing out like a dart from a speargun.

            An ordinary gull would have started at the first sign of danger, but this summoned toothed bird was loyal to its mistress’ order to follow the pair. The projectile buried itself deep into the false gull’s chest, and it vanished in a cloud of golden sparks before Vince could blink twice. The spear dashed itself against the rocks, turning back into a spray of seawater.

            Vince turned back to the orca, noticing that her right arm was completely exposed. “That’s a good trick!”

            “You Landmen are not the only ones with magic,” she replied, flashing him a cocky grin. “Go back to your home and wait there. I’ll swim home and get this all straightened out.”

            “Nothing doing!” said Vince. “She thinks I’m a poacher, remember? If she sees me without you, she’ll assume the worst!”

            That gave Bayla pause. “What do you suggest?”

            “Easy,” he replied. “We wait for her, and then she’ll get to watch you leave with my blessing. I don’t care how much she jumps to conclusions, she won’t be able to misinterpret that!”

            Bayla smirked up at the Landman. “That is a sensible plan, though I cannot help but notice it keeps me at your side a while longer.”

            “Th-that’s just a coincidence,” he said.

            “I see,” she said, clearly not believing a word of it. “Now that I think of it, you have taught me so much of the Landman ways, but I have not shared much of my own customs. Let me show you how we bid farewell before a long journey.”

            Bayla held her arms stiff and unbent to her sides, palm inward. It took Vince a moment to take the hint and imitate her. She pressed her palm against him, and they spun in place.

            “There is a song in our tongue, but it would mean nothing to you,” she said. “I’ll speak the words instead.”

            Bayla said she would not sing, but Vince was taken aback by the musical quality in her voice.

            “Tide flows in and out,

            The sea, it knows no end.

            The future is in doubt,

            But know you are my friend.

            Be safe from whaler’s net,

            Shark’s tooth, storm, and typhoon.

            I know I’ll see you yet,

            I swear by sun and moon.

            But if that vow should fail,

            And this is where we part,

            Live life at fullest sail,

            For you’ll be in my heart.”

            Vince’s vision blurred, forcing him to stop circling with Bayla to wipe away the tears. “Th-that was beautiful.”

            He expected something mocking from Bayla, some tease about how smitten he was, how he could not avoid being too attached. Instead, when he had dried his eyes, he saw Bayla facing away from him, looking out towards Puget Sound.

            “Th-that witch,” she said, a hitch in her voice. “What could possibly be delaying her? Her blasted summon should have led her right to us. It is bad luck to tarry after a farewell ceremony.”

            Vince grinned, ever so slightly. “You didn’t sing it, so maybe it doesn’t count?”

            “Still, I should get in the water. I will not go far once I change back.” Without sparing him a look, she stepped forward until she was waist deep in the surf.

            A brilliant, golden light illuminated her lower half. Bayla’s clothing shifted again, the Aqua Armor flowing out of sight. Vince did not avert his eyes; if she was not embarrassed by the display, why should he be?

Well, besides the obvious. But I don’t want to miss a moment.

The show did not last long, and Bayla pitched forward, vanishing from sight.

            There she goes. The most interesting thing to ever happen to me, and she’s almost gone. He sighed. At least I’ll get to see her soon; she should surface once she’s done changing.

            ******************

The orca let out a sigh of relief as a pleasant tingle flowed through her lower half, the light of the transformation magic dazzling her eyes. Thank God, it happened by instinct. I should not have doubted myself; I am a prodigy after all. The tingling doubled and redoubled. Her legs went limp, sending her face first into the ebbing tide.

            As soon as she was under, the sensation and the light both abruptly ceased. Doubt gnawed at her; she had turned into a Landmaiden instantly. No worries, that was only the first stage. I need only wait.

She kept on waiting as her lungs burned. Her involuntary dive had caught her by surprise, so she had not taken a breath before going under. I need to surface! She found her Landmaiden arms were completely unsuited for swimming, and her lower half could only spasm uselessly.

            The tingling stopped, leaving her in this malformed state. Her eyes flew open; everything was foam, churn, and dancing lights. I am drowning. How am I possibly drowning? It cannot end like this, no, it cannot, it…

            Strong hands seized her milling arms, pulling her above the surface. Vince was soaked through, his waterlogged clothes threatening to drag him under with her.

            “I didn’t see you come back up,” he grunted. “Shouldn’t you be a whale by now?”

            “I am trying!” she snapped.

            Vince saved his breath, and Bayla saw the wisdom in not distracting him has he hauled her to shore. Her lower half was nothing but dead weight for the both of them, after all. She ordered her legs to work. Move! Move move move!

            She may as well have commanded a rock to sing, for all she accomplished. With a final heave, Vince managed to haul her back onto the shore, leaving only her tail in the water.

            To Bayla’s horror, she felt more at ease once she was back on land. She lay face down on the wet sand, gasping for breath. “I am in your debt again, Vincemeyer.” He gave no response beyond his own labored breathing.

            She tried to stand, but found that her legs were still useless. “What have I done to myself?” She twisted around to survey the damage, and a horrified shriek echoed beneath the wharf. Her form was unchanged from the waist up, but her bottom half had completely transformed. It bore familiar black and white coloring and a broad tail fluke, which finally beat up and down at her command.

            “I… I… What? I…”

            Vince was slightly more eloquent. “Jesus Christ, you’re a mermaid!”

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