After a moment, there’s a crashing through the trees, the not-at-all subtle arrival of Shrimp. He plods out to me, walking with complete self-assurance on the dock. He’d be a good pirate dog, sailing the high seas with utter confidence.
“Good come. Good boy.” I scratch his velvety-soft ears.
He sits and pants, his heavy breath the loudest noise in the calm night.
“Clem swim.” I state the command I worked with him on for weeks when he was a puppy until he understood. “Stay close.”
Shrimp lies down and licks my toes as if in agreement. It took us some time, but I finally taught my pup to not freak out or wander far when I disappeared under the surface of the water for a long stretch. He knows I’ll be back and that he should hang out in this spot for me.
Naked now, I balance on the edge of the dock, my toes curling over the lip. The night air carries the scent of damp wood, and I breathe deep until my lungs are filled to the brim.
Then I dive into the lake.
The moment I breach the surface, I allow my magic to surge through me.
The lovely pull and tug of stretching a muscle ripple along the length of my body until I take on my other form. Bubbles stream from my mouth with a peal of laughter. Water that once seemed dark is now simply shadowy, my enhanced eyes picking up on the nuance of the world around me. The sounds of the lake press against my ears in a lulling song. I pass through a school of fish snacking on bugs that collect near the surface. They scatter at my presence.
Utter joy replenishes my soul as I dive deeper, twirl, spin, flip, and take advantage of this freedom and safety.
Never realized how much I missed this. How good it could be here.
In my younger years, I was too angry and hurt and resentful to notice all the wonder still in my life. Then I left this town behind.
But I won’t do that again.
I skim my fingers along the muddy bottom, feeling the familiar, smooth red clay. In my memory, I sort through the hidden treasures that I found during my past swims in Lake Galen. The landmarks that can only be discovered underwater.
I remember a sunken tree trunk, carved in the shape of a squid. I wonder if it’s still in the same spot. And if it is, can I remember the route?
Turning toward the branch of the lake where I believe I saw it, I flip my tail to speed my progress, reveling in the power of my body.
I swim a few miles before things go wrong.
A sharp pain jabs my side, and I gasp. The story from my childhood of a selkie getting torn into by a boat motor flashes through my mind, but there’s no sign of anything around me, and I’m too far from the surface for a motor to be a danger.
The pain flares again. A ripping. Tearing. Like my skin is being flayed open.
I curl in on myself, staring through the dark water at my abdomen, where my webbed fingers press against my side.
The skin that was once smooth isn’t anymore.
My wound gapes open, spilling blood in dark tendrils.
Agony pulses through me, and I lose hold on my mythic shape. The moment I shift back into my human form, the water feels colder, my lungs try to hold a breath I never inhaled, and my injury drags a red fog across my mind.
In the depths of Lake Galen, where no one can hear me, I scream for help.
No one is coming for you. You’re alone.
Terror and the rabid need to survive drive my legs to kick and my arms to stretch upward. The reopened slash threatens to tear further, and I pray to The Finned One I won’t lose consciousness before I reach the surface. In my mermaid form, I can be underwater for hours, but in this shape, I have minutes, and that’s with air to start.
Just as I’m convinced I’ll drown, my head bursts past the surface, and I cough up the water in my lungs before I can breathe, my abs cramping with the effort. And as much as I wish finding air meant I was safe, I’m still injured and bleeding in the middle of the lake.
“Help!” I try to scream, but my voice is a raw rasp.
The starry sky swirls above me, blood loss making me woozy.
Shore. Shore. Get to the shore.
