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As if reading her thoughts, the Skulssted guard continued. “That, having survived a vicious attack, these guards succumbed to land sickness, is a tragedy that must cut at all our hearts. But it, too, is a reminder for us of the dangers outside our borders, and of the true nobility of our guards in taking risks for the rest of us to live in safety.”
Merletta was frowning, feeling vaguely that it was highly suspicious that the guard had begun speaking about land sickness just as she thought it—could he somehow read her mind?—when the water was filled with a loud thumping. She jumped, her mind spinning crazily as she tried to understand what she was seeing.
Looking up, she saw that all the guards floating above them were banging their weapons against one another’s in a coordinated, rhythmic salute. They didn’t smile or cheer—their faces remained somber—but there was a fierce pride in their eyes as they stared straight ahead. She forgot the speaker’s suspicious knowledge as her heart went out to them. Surely most of them had no idea of the lies they were perpetrating regarding humans and land, except perhaps the Center guards. And for all she knew, even they didn’t know the truth of what had happened to that Skulssted patrol.
Her eyes fell on Ileana, and a flash of anger went through her. One guard, at least, knew how much of this was a sham. There was no way Ileana believed those guards had died of land sickness. She must know they’d been conveniently gotten rid of. A swirling discomfort filled Merletta’s stomach. Was it possible Ileana had helped kill them? It was a horrible thought. Her eyes narrowed as she noted that the other girl was floating halfway along the row of Center guards. She was surrounded by guards significantly older than her, whereas others her age were at the end of the line. Surely she was in too elevated a position for a brand new guard?
As Merletta stared at Ileana, the water around the guard seemed to shimmer, and Merletta’s mouth fell open in a soundless scream of terror. Ileana’s head! What was happening to Ileana’s head? It was morphing into a shark’s head, then back again. The older girl’s long, fair hair was twisting in the water, taking the shape of so many writhing sea snakes. It was impossible—what magic was this that turned Ileana into a monster before Merletta’s very eyes?
She looked around frantically, but the others were watching the head Skulssted guard with somber expressions. No one else seemed to have noticed Ileana’s transformation. And when Merletta looked back up, Ileana looked normal once again, her attention also on the head guard.
Now shaking violently, Merletta followed Ileana’s gaze, watching as the head Skulssted guard listed the names of the patrol members.
Through a sheen of panic, Merletta watched as family members came forward to receive tributes on behalf of the deceased guards.
“That’s August’s wife,” Andre muttered, as the last one swam forward. She was a mermaid in early middle age, and she held her back straight as she accepted a large and beautiful conch shell, inclining her head graciously to the head guard before turning and swimming back to the Skulssted seating section.
The head guard turned to the crowd and began to speak again.
“Not just in their deaths, but in their illness, our companions have reminded us of the importance of vigilance,” he said, in his barking voice.
The words seemed to bounce around Merletta’s mind, like the cries of playful seal cubs. She shook her head. What a strange thing to think at such a serious moment.
“It wasn’t easy to watch them succumb to the land sickness,” the head guard went on, “but they did us a service in that we have now been reminded of a peril that we once knew, which had almost been lost to our history.”
Merletta scowled. Lies, all lies. Land sickness wasn’t part of their history. It was a myth. Wasn’t it? She ran a hand across her forehead, shivering. Her skin felt like it was burning, as if she really had been scorched by heat from the Record Master’s eyes.
But that was nonsense. What was she thinking? Land sickness. That’s what the guard was saying. And it wasn’t true. She’d been above water more than any other mermaid. She’d even been on land! She knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as land sickness.
“Delirium,” the guard barked, “hallucinations. Suspicion of those nearest and dearest.”
A strange ringing was sounding in Merletta’s ears, and a horrible fear began to creep in at the edges of her consciousness. Hallucinations?
The speaker glanced toward the relatives of the deceased, floating at the front of the Skulssted section and clutching their conch shells. Merletta saw that August’s widow had a fixed, expressionless look on her face. Merletta knew it well, because she’d worn it many times. It was the look of someone who was in pain, but determined not to show it to the world.
“She didn’t get to say a proper goodbye,” Andre muttered in Merletta’s ear, his emotion clearly close to the surface. “She wasn’t even allowed to be at the burial, for fear of infection.”
Something about that was highly suspicious, but Merletta was struggling to focus enough to figure out what.
“They are dead, aren’t they?” she asked stupidly, forgetting to be discreet. It was only when she realized that Andre was staring at her in bemusement that she remembered he wasn’t privy to her suspicions.
“Of course they are,” he said, his voice strange. “Why would you even ask that? My father attended two of the burials himself, and saw their bodies lowered into the tombs.”
“Oh,” said Merletta, blinking rapidly to try to clear her head. “That seems conclusive, then.” Sage shot her a warning look, and Merletta fell silent.
Andre was still looking a little scandalized, and Merletta had a feeling she’d put a fin wrong with her words. But she couldn’t chase the thought down. There was a buzzing in her ears, like the sound made by the small flying creatures that liked to hover around the lagoon on Vazula. The heavy, scented air of the island was clearly affecting her mind, just like it had the guards’.
But no, that was absurd! She didn’t have land sickness! It wasn’t even real!
“It’s not easy to remember them that way,” the speaker was droning on. “But take comfort from this—to give their minds as well as their bodies to our protection is worthy of the highest honor we can give.”
He sprang quite suddenly into a salute, and all the Skulssted guards copied him. Merletta reeled forward, the familiar guilty churning in her stomach rising rapidly until she was overwhelmed by it. She was filled with a mad desire to race into the center of the clearing, to confess to everyone that it was all her fault, that the guards hadn’t died for honor, or duty, but for her illicit discoveries.
She had a vague feeling that she wasn’t supposed to say any of that, but she couldn’t remember why. She could hear Sage’s voice, and Andre’s. They sounded concerned, but the words were muffled. She tried to focus on their faces, and her eyes widened in further alarm. They were speaking, but it wasn’t words pouring from their mouths—it was ink, thick, dark, swirling ink. Merletta blinked stupidly, her eyes passing up to the cold, disapproving face of Ibsen, watching angrily as she flopped out of her seat, making a scene.
“What’s wrong with you?” The instructor’s cold voice cut through the cloudiness surrounding her mind. He seemed to be speaking much too loudly. “Why are you behaving this way?”
His face was distorting strangely, lit with a luminous glow. His words reached visibly toward her like jellyfish tentacles, ready to wrap around her and sting her.
