Near the shore, in the shallower waters, I navigate through dense forests of rockweed. Their brown, leathery fronds cling to the rocks, creating a swaying canopy that shelters a myriad of tiny creatures. Schools of Atlantic herring weave through this underwater forest, their silver sides flashing as they dart between the fronds. As I observe this intricate ecosystem, I’m struck by how each element belongs and how everything has its place. Perhaps it’s time I truly accepted mine.
As I glide into deeper water, the seafloor transforms. Life carpets the rocky bottom – vibrant sea stars sprawl like living jewels while spiky green urchins huddle in shadowy crevices. Blue mussels cluster in dark patches, their shells catching glints of filtered light. Between the rocks, cautious lobsters wave their antennae at my approach.
The water dims and chills as I descend further. A flounder lies perfectly still, only its swiveling eyes betraying its presence. Schools of cod drift past, their mottled brown bodies blending seamlessly with the murky depths as they search for prey.
As I round a massive, kelp-covered boulder, I come across an unexpected sight that makes me pause. Merrows – a gentle-natured cousin to mermaids from Irish legend – sleep peacefully in a rocky hollow, sheltered by a woven tapestry of seaweed. The living shield ripples with each current, offering glimpses of iridescent scales and green hair the color of deep kelp forests.
I blink in surprise, not realizing any of these Irish sea folk had moved into the area.
Watching them, I make a mental note to mention their presence to Koko. While I’m pretty sure she already knows about them – very little escapes her notice in Lublin Harbor – it’s worth confirming that they’re welcome here. The last thing we need is tension between different magical communities in our waters.
Rising from the seafloor, I spot a pod of harbor porpoises darting past, their sleek bodies cutting through the water like arrows. They pause when they notice me, their curious whistles echoing through the blue expanse. Then, one darts forward to tap my tentacle with its snout before spinning away. Ah – they want to play. I reach for them playfully as they weave between my limbs, always just fast enough to escape my gentle grasp.
Once they tire of our game, the pod vanishes into deeper waters, their playful echoes fading.
All seems well in my domain – the familiar dance of predator and prey, the steady pulse of ocean life. A humpback whale glides in the distance, its massive form a gentle reminder of the wonders I’m sworn to protect.
My thoughts drift unbidden to Rose. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her art and how her laughter carries onthe breeze. I wish there were a way for her to stay longer, but she’s just a visitor. I shake off the thought, focusing instead on a school of mackerel passing by. With a quick movement, I snatch one from the group. It’s not the same as a proper meal, but it’ll do for now. As I finish my snack, I realize I’ve been out here for hours. It’s time to head back.
The sun has long since risen, transforming the sea around me. Its rays pierce the depths like golden spears, turning the deep blue into shimmering aquamarine.
As I make my way back towards the marina, a large shape emerges from the shadows of a nearby rocky outcropping, heading in the opposite direction. I immediately recognize it as Moira, the cecaelia who serves as our marina’s harbormaster. Like me, she’s a shifter, capable of taking human form on land. In her true form, she’s a rare and ancient creature with the upper body of a human and the lower body of an octopus. Her tentacles are a deep, mottled purple, almost black in the shadowy water.
As we cross paths, Moira raises a webbed hand in greeting, her eyes, large and fathomless, meeting mine. I lift a tentacle in response, feeling a sense of camaraderie with my fellow shapeshifter. “Heading out for the day, Moira?” I ask, my voice carrying clearly through the calm water.
“Just a routine check,” Moira says, her tentacles undulating gently beneath her torso in the mild current. “It’s a beautiful day up there – perfect for boating. Thought I’d make sure everything’s ship-shape below the surface too.”
“I was just finishing my morning patrol,” I tell her. “Everything seemed normal, except I spotted a group of merrows about a mile out, sleeping in the kelp beds, but that was the only thing worth noting.”
“Yes, they arrived a few days ago,” Moira says. “Koko warned me they’d be around for a little while.” Her tentacles curl lazily through the water, shifting between deep purples and blues.“Have a good day, Levi. I’ll be back by lunch if you need me for anything.” With that, she glides away into deeper waters, her tentacles propelling her gracefully through the sea.
As I near the marina, I ascend from the ocean’s shadows. The light grows brighter, turning the water into a sparkling, translucent curtain. Schools of fish glitter like living jewels as they dart through the sunbeams, their scales reflecting the light in mesmerizing patterns.
Careful to avoid being seen, I transform back into my smaller scout form once I enter the marina. When I get to my houseboat, I morph into my human form as I climb aboard. I turn to stare at Rose’s houseboat. It looks empty, and I feel a pang of disappointment that I immediately try to squash. I remember her mentioning something about shopping. It’s probably for the best. I need to get a grip on these feelings.
CHAPTER 10
Rose
Something wakes me, though I’m not sure what. I lie there in the dark, my heart beating a little faster as I struggle to identify what pulled me from sleep. A soft thump from outside draws me from my bed. My bare feet are silent on the wooden floor as I pad to the window. The pre-dawn world is painted in shades of silver and black, and the marina is peaceful except… oh.
Oh my god.
The sight before me freezes me in place – Levi on his deck, completely naked. Though shadows cloak most of his body, what little moonlight filters through the clouds catches his pale skin, making it almost luminous. He stretches, all lean muscle and broad shoulders, and I forget how to breathe. Before I can process what I’m seeing, he moves toward the water’s edge, giving me a view of what can only be described as a perfect backside. The artist in me wants to sketch those lines, that play of shadow and light across his body. The woman in me just wants to look.
When he glances toward my houseboat, I drop to the floor, heart hammering against my ribs. God, I’m acting like a teenager caught peeping – which, okay, maybe I am. Just without the teenager part. After counting to twenty, I risk a careful peek through the bottom of the window. The deck is empty now, with no sign of my midnight swimmer.
I crawl back to bed, failing to suppress my giggles as I burrow under the covers. Who knew my mysterious tour guide was a skinny dipper? Sleep comes easily, but now my dreams have new material to work with – the muscular lines of his body, the confident way he moved, the perfection of that backside. So much for thinking of him as just the quiet guy next door.
How am I ever going to look him in the eyes again without blushing scarlet?
The next thing I know, golden sunlight streams through the window over my bed, coaxing me awake. A perfect blue sky beckons me to the deck, where I sip my morning coffee and try not to glance too obviously at Levi’s silent boat. The harbor sparkles beneath the rising sun as if nothing unusual happened in the pre-dawn hours.
After a quick shower, I hop into my rental car, eager to explore more of Lublin Harbor. As I make my way into town, the quaint streets are already bustling with activity. My first stop is the bakery; its warm, sweet aroma draws me in like a siren’s call.
As I step inside, the cheerful tinkle of a brass bell announces my arrival. Fresh–baked bread and buttery pastries perfume the air, while rows of golden croissants and jewel-toned fruit tarts gleam behind glass cases. In the background, espresso machines hum their low, comforting song.
“Good morning, Rose!” Koko’s cheerful voice cuts through the pleasant hubbub of the bakery. She’s behind the counter, her curly hair contained in a colorful bandana. “You’re up bright and early! We didn’t keep you up too late at the clam bake?”
