"Alright," Father said, rubbing the green skin on the bridge of his nose between his eyes in exasperation. "You're honestly expecting me to believe that not only were you once human, but also that you were a missionary?"
Phillip raised an eyebrow, his chin resting over his scaled forearms, crossed on the starboard lip of the Dauntless as it bobbed freely. We were anchored a few leagues off Port Royal as not to draw attention to what was most likely the most unusual pairing: the girl, undead man resembling a fish person, and two actual fish people. "Just as much as you expect me to believe that you once were human and also an Admiral in the Royal Navy," he said humorlessly.
Father snorted. "Touche."
"And," I said to Syrena, who was also leaning partially onto the lip of our boat next to her lover, "You feel it when I touch the water as well?"
"You were hurt when you fell, yes?" she asked me, her face equal parts earnest and curious. "You bled?"
I thought back to when I accidentally keel hauled myself on the Gull. I had been bleeding from my forehead when I awoke. "You sensed my blood!" I said.
She nodded. "All creatures of the sea can feel our goddess, as well as those who share her blood."
I narrowed my eyes, looking between the mermaids. "But…if that's so, why do you need me?"
They exchanged a glance. "Leverage," Phillip finally said.
Father rolled his eyes. "Of course. Use the daughter to your advantage to get what you want. Which is, what exactly?"
Hesitantly, Phillip replied, "We need to find a sanctuary for our kind."
To this, Father chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Alright, Phillip, have to stop you there. Even though I…really didn't believe in your kind until mere hours ago, I've of course heard lore about your species, and you certainly aren't some endangered, majestic creatures who are wholly innocent." He glared at him. "Care to share what your diet consists of?"
"Fish," replied Phillip evenly. "It has been since I've been transformed. I have worked to begin converting mermaids from consuming humans."
Father narrowed his eyes. "Oh? Can I expect to find an underwater church down there as well for your mer-disciples?"
Phillip began to flick his tail above the surface in prickled annoyance, but I intercepted the impending conflict by asking, "But…Phillip, from what I've heard from legends, there are no mermen. Mermaids um…" I said, my face growing red with the uncomfortable topic, "Use human men for reproduction and feasting, I believe."
"Part of the reason we fled," Syrena said sadly, looking plaintively at me. "My kiss saved Phillip's life and transformed him. He was not welcome among my sisters."
"Aye," Phillip added. "Because of my human past, I maintained a certain way of life that only Syrena went along with. We were ostracized and pushed from their ranks."
"Soon they began to starve, however," Syrena reported. "White Cap Bay is known as a danger to all who sail the sea now, and with no one to provide them food, it was no longer able to be sustained."
Phillip nodded, proceeding with, "And so as they one by one began to grow sickly and die off, those who realized that we were in the right began to rebel against the authority of the group and join us. We have amassed quite a good number of followers, yet still have been pushed from White Cap Bay by the few who still remain."
"We have no home," Syrena said, her large eyes mournful. "And man has traversed nearly every part of the world. No place is safe for our kind."
"And so you wish to negotiate with Calypso," Father finished, still clearly unconvinced. Turning to Phillip, he said sardonically, "So…the missionary believes in sea goddesses?"
"I didn't believe in mermaids and Fountains of Youth, yet here I am."
Father pursed his lips. "I don't know what you expect to get from her. What can she promise to a couple of mermaids?"
"The sea goddess knows all there is to know about the ocean," Syrena answered reverently. "She will know where it is safe for us."
I gulped. Mother might have been Calypso by proxy, as the true Calypso had shared her powers with her and now was confined solely to the Locker, but Mother, despite being immortal, was still only human. She wasn't this all-knowing entity Syrena and Phillip expected her to be. Could she really help them to the extent they expected of her?
Father clearly shared my concern, and tried to limit their expectations. "Well, Calypso is a bit preoccupied at the moment. The island she inhabits is infected with a plague presently. She is handling…the loss of several loved ones," Father said, his eyes downcast with guilt, "And has been fretting over the whereabouts of Anna here for months."
"Come with us," I suddenly blurted, causing all three of them to whip their heads toward me in alarm.
"What?!" Father cried incredulously.
"They did save us from…him," I replied with a shrug. Turning to them, I said, "If you keep us safe on this final leg of our journey, I can promise you counsel with Calypso as a reward for your efforts."
Syrena shook her head emphatically. "Not good enough," she said. "You promise us sanctuary for me and my people."
"I can't do that," I countered. "I don't know if there is any safe place for you, only she knows that. But I can guarantee that Calypso will be merciful to anyone who shows kindness towards her family."
Wordlessly, Syrena and Phillip shared a look. Syrena was the first to dive beneath the waves, Phillip following soon after, clearly to discuss this ultimatum I had presented them with.
Now alone, I sheepishly grimaced at my Father, who's icy glare was enough to freeze over the entire Atlantic.
"Are you insane?" he snapped.
"Sorry."
"Yes, well, you'll most certainly be sorry if this all goes awry. Bargaining with literal sea monsters!"
"What choice do we have?" I protested. "Either we bargain and offer counsel with civility, or if we refuse, they're just going to take me by force. We're in infinitely more danger if we say no." I paused, then added, "Plus, they know right where Shipwreck is."
He scoffed. "As do I!"
"But they don't need to navigate," I said. Then, hesitantly sitting straighter, I presented him with an earnest challenge, "It will get us there faster, which means less time in this boat. Which isn't that what you wanted all along?" I tightened my jaw, feeling a bit guilty at delivering the successful quip that I soon saw slice through my father.
"Don't do that," he said softly. "That's unfair."
I clenched my jaw tighter, heart racing as I recited his own words to me. "'Never apologize for the truth.'"
My guilt ballooned when I saw that this hit him like a blow to the chest. He lowered his eyes and only nodded slightly, silently accepting the rage I just unleashed upon him. I instantly regretted my actions, but at the same time knew I couldn't take any of it back. I might have been unfair in suggesting that his refusal to stay with our family was a selfish choice, but what was more unfair was that this was a choice he was presented with at all. I was frustrated with our lot in life and in a split second took it out on him.
I didn't get a chance to apologize regardless, as just then Syrena and Phillip breached the surface once more, reluctantly agreeing to our compromise. Father then swiftly and coldly gave orders for them to swim in front of us, thereby leading the way. He also gave them the command to "not try anything funny," in which case the deal would be called off entirely and they'd be left to his mercy, which nowadays was in short supply. Not wanting to test him, the three of us silently went to work in getting the vessel in motion and pointed in the right direction. Father was silent and diligent, retying the sail lines and manning the rudder. Every time I would attempt to help, he would only shrug me off and ignore me.
I had erred and now had to make the bed I slept in. I had hurt him, so he was going to respond in turn by pretending I didn't exist. I acknowledged that I had started this war, however, and simply sat on the starboard side of the boat and kept to myself. For a time, I merely admired the view of the open ocean, or kept watch over passing vessels in the distance, or tracked Syrena and Phillip's shimmering scales alongside one another rising lowering through the waves, guiding our path. Then I began to journal all that had since surpassed. Then, tired of that, I used what last remaining daylight I had to begin reading the book father had given me. It began slowly, and I found that my mind began to wander restlessly, wondering about the factuality of Mr. Swift's prose. How did he know about sea travel? Was there any historical evidence to support the existence of this so-called island of "Lilliput?" But after a time, I found myself surrendering to the story, becoming enraptured in the adventure of it all. Before I knew it, the sun had set. Desperately, I grabbed the oil lamp we had affixed to the mast and lit it using flint, where I held it precariously close to the book's pages, squinting to make out the words as darkness fell deeper and deeper.
Finally, the book's cover began to move, causing me to look up and see Father, good-naturedly shutting the book and taking the lamp from me. "That's enough for tonight," he said gently. "You'll harm your vision."
I grinned, clutching the book into my chest. "I suppose I got a tad carried away," I admitted.
The storm between us seemed to have passed a bit, as he smiled back. "I figured as much. It's good, isn't it?"
"It's amazing!" I exclaimed. "New worlds of tiny people and large people and giant animals…" Then, with a wry smile, I said, "…and pirates!"
He smirked. "And pirates," he agreed. Then, he sat straighter and hoisted the lamp overhead, moving his free hand wildly in front of it. The flickering light served as a signal that Phillip picked up upon, slowing and stopping Syrena. Lifting their heads above the waves, they turned and caught hold of the lip of the boat to see what they had been summoned for.
Father asked them, "Does the route you're taking us on continue Westward?"
"Aye," Phillip confirmed.
"Good. Well, you might as well rest. I have the rudder secured so that we will continue in the same direction, but this is a windless night. I don't anticipate us going far, if anywhere at all. At least not until daybreak."
They concurred, and while Phillip elected to rest, Syrena on the other hand disappeared back below the waves. I hardly had time to ask where she had gone off to before, a fish went flying through the air, landing with a thud! on deck. It flailed about desperately, gasping in the open air, and Syrena came back up to the surface sporting a proud grin.
"Oh!" I said, trying very hard to remain polite at her generosity. "Thank you, but I…I don't exactly have a way to…cook this here…"
Her expression fell, and she glared at me before wordlessly darting back below, flicking me with water as she left.
"Don't mind her," Phillip assured me. "It's just her way of showing respect. Now if you don't mind, I believe I should also aid in us finding our dinner for the night."
Once he too had gone, my attention went back to the quickly expiring fish, still gasping and flopping about. I motioned to Father as if to say, "Is this to your liking?"
He only snorted, catching hold of the fish and releasing it back into the water, where it was quick to make its escape. "I told you, I don't need to eat," he said, settling back down so that he was sitting next to me.
"Just because you don't need to eat doesn't mean you shouldn't eat."
"Okay, Rose," he said with amusement. "I swear some of the things you say, you sound exactly like her." He paused, lowering his voice. "Although that is fairly apparent, isn't it? She raised you, after all."
I felt a pang in my chest. This was his way of admitting his own regret at having missed my childhood. I could only nod, saying, "She taught me everything I know."
"Ah!" he said. "Finally, your uncoordinated swordsmanships finally makes sense to me then if she was your tutor!"
I sighed. "Will you blokes give me some credit? Between you and Henry I swear!"
He chuckled. "Admittedly, I was rather taken aback at your shooting." He gave me a sidelong glance. "You took out Phillip's cane at a long range as though it was nothing."
I felt pride rush through me, but tried to remain modest. "That was Elizabeth's doing, actually. She taught me to shoot."
"Perhaps," he said, "But that sort of precision can't be taught. That's a gift."
I sat up. "Wait, that doesn't come from you? Can't you shoot?"
"Not like that." After I looked out, smiling in silent amazement at this revelation, he said earnestly, "Not everything you are is inherited, Anna. Rose and I are your parents, nothing more. You certainly have received traits from us both that anyone can clearly see, but you are first and foremost your own person." When I didn't respond, holding fast to his words, he continued in a gravely serious tone, "Regardless of what happens from here, I don't want you living the rest of your life defining yourself based on who I was. I want you to find the things that are uniquely you. Cultivate that. Cherish that."
I was truly astonished by his words. All I could do was nod a promise back to him. It sufficed, and for a time we sat together in silence. Still clutching his childhood book into me, it suddenly hit me that in only a matter of a little over a day, this would be the solitary memento of my father I would be left with—a book, those words of advice, and fleeting memories. Perhaps…forever.
I could feel tears beginning to form, and not wanting him to see me break again, I took a deep breath and rapidly blinked them away, changing the subject with, "Well, I still maintain that just because you don't need to act like a human doesn't mean you shouldn't. You should rest."
"No—" he began to protest.
"Ah ah!" I cut him off. "You said it yourself! We're not going anywhere tonight with this wind…or lack thereof. And you haven't had a decent rest in, what—thirteen years?" When he admitted this with a nod, I said, "Precisely! And if you're about to go galavanting off to save Will, you're going to need energy of some sort, undead or no."
Still wary, he said, "I'm leaving you in charge of two mermaids…"
"I'll be fine!" I insisted, laying a hand over my pistol holster. "…won't I?"
He took a deep breath, then nodded. "Yes. I do believe you shall."
He situated himself so that he had his back up against the mast. Sleep didn't come easy, as I supposed it wouldn't, but after a time, I saw the pace of his breathing slow into a deep slumber.
There was more to write, so I took out my journal once again and began to scrawl in the flickering lamplight. I wasn't sure how much time had passed before Phillip came to the surface once more, crossing his arms and leaning against the lip of the Dauntless right next to me.
"I had my fill, but Syrena's still ravenous," he reported, looking over at my scribblings. "You're a writer, eh?"
I smiled. "I try."
"Doubtless Syrena and I have made it into your pages," he said, smiling.
"Can you blame me? And not just the fact that we've encounter actual mermaids…you, Phillip. You're an anomaly," I replied. "I've never heard of a man making a transformation to sea creature."
He furrowed his brow. "Well that isn't true, is it?" He motioned to where Father was sleeping. "What happened there?"
Hesitantly, I decided to tell him. "Have you heard of—" I stopped myself before saying the damning name that would doom us all and instead elected to write on a blank page, "Davy Jones - don't repeat this aloud."
Phillip read it and narrowed his eyes. "The folktale?"
"The truth. He lives. He's gaining power over the seas once more. That's what did that to him and who tried to bring us down to the ocean floor. That's who you saved us from."
He nodded, then fell silent. After a time, he asked, "Is he really your father?"
I smiled, looking over at him. "Aye. I'm going to free him. I'll find a way."
"I don't doubt you will," he said encouragingly. "It makes sense that you're related. You work well together."
And that's when I realized something. It didn't matter that my time with my father was fleeting. It didn't matter that it was temporary. Because somewhere, deep down, I knew this man. He was an undeniable part of me, but didn't define me. I carried his blood and some of his features, and therefore, he was in a way always with me, just as my mother was. Despite being physically separated, they were together in the form of me. With that comforting thought, I answered Phillip, "That's because I've known him all my life."
