Page 83 of Anchored to the Storm

East Nine

Guns and Legs

She is life. . . for me. . .

As a mermaid, Saleeni was voluptuous. Absolutely riveting and fierce. In human form, she was pixie-like. Her long fin had transformed into petite legs and little feet that didn’t reach my ankles when she rested her head on my shoulder. Instantly, I recognized how vulnerable she was. Her human form was way more fragile than her mystical one.

To add to my growing concern, it appeared the transformation had worn her out. Fatigued, she was sprawled on me, boneless, her weight now mine to carry.

On the stairs, in the water, her body didn’t move. Just rested on me. We lay there in silence, maybe shock, until she admitted, “I am very tired.”

Still dumbfounded by how easily she seemed to be speaking, and that she now seemed human, I wrapped my arms around her, surprised to feel her skin cold. “Okay. Rest.”

The spiritual connection we found in the pool was still very present, even as we were in uncharted territory for both of us. Our confusion matched, and we needed a bit to compose our thoughts.

Exhausted, she rolled to her side and curled into a ball. “I don’t remember you being so warm.”

She never noticed because she had never been cold in the water. Her body thrived there. Now, neither of us knew what would help her thrive again. Or how long she would stay in this form.

Her head still rested on my right shoulder. The rest of her was on my chest and stomach. “Why is my body moving like this?”

I rearranged my arms to cover more of her. “Humans shake when they are cold.”

“I don’t like it.”

The way she pronounced her words, so carefully, almost sounded like an accent.

I explained, “Neither do we. Normally, we have to dry off to warm up.”

She pressed her forehead to the side of my neck. “I’ve never been dry before.”

I leaned my head to hers. “I know, baby.”

I could feel her emotions building before she quietly cried, “I’ve never been out of the water.”

Deep inhale… Again, I was being reminded of how complicated this all was. There was no magic movie scene where we would run into each other’s arms and live happily ever after. This was going to be one day at a time—one moment at a time.

I exhaled her sadness that was flooding my heart. “I won’t leave your side.”

Her shaking intensified as she whispered-cried, “Will it hurt to walk?”

As I moved her body so I could cradle it, I said, “That is something we will find out later.” Then I stood with her in an embrace that offered all promises I could see to fruition.

I had so many questions now that her speech had drastically improved, but the need to care for her made none of the inquiries feel important. Only her health, her well-being mattered.

Water dripped from us both as I did something never done before. Each step up and out of the lagoon was weighted. I was carrying a mythical being from the only element she had ever known. Water, in a pool that was designed only for her because she had a fin. A tail.

Now, both were gone.

Once I left the last stair behind, I noticed Saleeni already asleep. I felt like Neil Armstrong, walking on a moon that never had a human footprint until now.

Neil had a team behind him. Brilliant brains to guide him. I had a grandfather who was staring at me. His eyes were determined. I knew he was willing to die for me. Did Neil have such dedication?

As Styx came to me with four folded towels, I told myself, Fuck rocket scientists. I have him.

With a gentle touch, he laid one towel over Saleeni’s naked body, tucking it between her and me.

The sentiment had my eyes welling. Noma…