The next few days were a complete haze as I travelled in and out of consciousness. When I was awake, I had barely enough strength to get up and when I was asleep, I saw the world through my mate's eyes. Vaguely, I remembered one of my instructors talking about how if one mate was in trouble, the other would be pulled into their mind to see their surroundings so that they could be saved. I never thought it would be anything like this agony. Most of what I saw was the surroundings and the man that had stabbed me and thrown me back into the water. Both of us felt a burning hatred for the red-haired man. When I was awake, I barely had enough time to tell Kirkland and Carriedo what I saw before I fell back to sleep. Most often, I wouldn't even complete the thought. On the evening of what I was told was the third day, the visions gave way to an exhausted blackness.
I woke up with a start the next morning, my body full of energy that I had not felt in days. I still worried about Lovino, but the visions had stopped haunting me altogether. Neither Carriedo nor Kirkland were in the room, but there was a small figure putting pressure on my legs. I looked down and found Peter, sound asleep and clutching the plush covering on the cot. I gently shook him awake, only to have the child latch himself onto my torso the second he looked at me. "Natasha, I'm so glad you're awake," he said excitedly, "Arthur and Antonio and Ren and I have been so worried and it was so scary to see you like that!"
Coming out of the temporary shock of having this child latch onto me, I gently stroked his tangled hair. "What do you mean, little one? I've only been asleep." He looked at me, an uncharacteristic frown decorating his face. "You kept thrashing about and calling out for someone. We tried to wake you up so many times, but you kept hitting us away." I frowned, not remembering doing anything of the sort. Nonetheless, I tried to mimic the movement Peter had been doing, wrapping my arms around his figure. It seemed to be the right thing to do as he buried his face into my shoulder.
Once he had calmed down, I stood up, carefully holding his little hand as he rubbed his slightly puffy eyes and irritated nose. Walking slowly, I walked out onto the main deck. No one noticed at first, but as we looked around, people started stopping and watching us. Soon enough, everything was totally silent. This caught someone's attention as familiar thumping boots stormed down onto the main deck. That bright red and gold coat that could have been a target swished around his legs as those green eyes scanned the deck with a scowl. Over these days, I had come to miss everything about him. Scrunching up my face, I pushed away any false feelings I may have had about Kirkland. Any feeling of attachment were obviously his own, contorting my emotions into something else. As I was lost in my thoughts, Kirkland had been yelling at his crew, none of whom had taken their eyes off of me. Finally, Kirkland turned and spotted my figure along with little Peter, who cowered behind me in fear of being punished for whatever reason. I stared at Kirkland, resolving to not show any emotion if it was possible.
Before I knew it, Kirkland was grabbing my shoulders with a wide, stupid grin on his face. "You've finally woken up! I was afraid that you were dying, the way you were trashing about," he practically shouted into my face. I didn't reply as everything I had seen in the past few days set into place. The eyes, the patterns of cruelty, the strong jaw, they all matched up. I looked down at Peter, obviously the outlier of the family, and calmly asked him, "Peter, would you please take me back to my cell?" I didn't even look at Kirkland, the pain evident in his emotions. Quietly, Peter led me through the frozen men. My bare feet didn't make a sound as we calmly strode past them all. We didn't get far before Kirkland reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip was strong enough to bruise, but I didn't show it. Carriedo rushed up behind him, putting a calm hand on his shoulder. Releasing Peter's hand temporarily, I curled up my fist and hurled it at his face, striking him directly under his eye. The shock was enough to get him to unhand me, giving me time to slip my hand back into Peter's and continue my smooth walk back to the cell I now called home.
Once we heard the men scurry back to work, Peter stopped me, worry evident on his face. "Miss Natasha, why would you do that," he whispered. "No one ever hits Arthur, even when they're very mad!" I looked at him, letting my emotionless facade soften to try and comfort him. "Don't worry, little one, I can protect myself if I have to. I hit him because he was helping the one who took my mate." My face hardened again as I filed into the tiny cell. Someone had been keeping the water fresh, most likely Ren. That man had been a sweetheart since day one. I stepped into the water and sat down with Peter helping me keep balance. I looked at him apologetically. "I promise, Peter, I'm not mad at you. I could never be mad at you." I cracked a smile and tussled his hair playfully. He gave me a halfhearted smile, letting me know that he didn't fully believe me. After thinking for a moment, absentmindedly scratching as the scales that were already starting to poke out, I came up with an idea. "How about you come back later tonight and I'll tell you some stories from my home." His face lit up with excitement. "Really," he gasped, "You'd tell me mermaid stories?" I smiled and let out a small laugh as he skipped out of the room. Something about the child always managed to draw a smile out of me and make my heart feel warm, even when it felt the heaviest.
-
Kirkland never did visit me that night. Perhaps he thought it would be best if he left me alone. Smart man, considering his relative. That damned red-haired man had appeared many times while I was watching through Lovi's eyes. He often spoke, but there was an accent even thicker than Carriedo's. Translating wasn't as easy as it should have been in Lovi's mind.
Peter, however, arrived late and full of tangible excitement. He was an apt listener as I told him about my family. "I have an older brother and sister," I said. "They raised me since I was as small as you. Katyusha, my sister, is the oldest. She pretty much raised Ivan, my brother. She has to be the most beautiful mermaid I know. She has hair that's much lighter than mine an eyes like the summer sky. Ivan has silvery hair and eyes that my sister would compare to purple coral. I was never as pretty as them, though." Peter interrupted me, looking a little mad. "Are you kidding? You're the most beautifulest person I know, even if you are a mermaid!" I smiled gently and poked his nose. "You must remember, little one, all merpeople are beautiful. It's in our nature as predators." He lost the angry look and almost seemed sad. "Oh, yeah," he murmured. He looked at me, a new question obviously on his mind. "Natasha, you said you were out with someone you love when you got caught. Were you going to sink the ship and eat the people?"
I took a second to process the question before sweetly shaking my head. "No, little one. My mate and I aren't old enough to be hunters." He cocked his head at me, obviously confused. I sighed and thought of a way to explain. "Well, Merpeople have to be a certain age before they can do things like lure in sailors. We call those Hunters. There are also Scouts, who go out and see how far out the next ship is. Usually they have special training to swim faster than the rest of us. There's also the Soldiers, who usually protect us from people trying to hunt us. The Monarchs are typically born specially to rule and keep us in order, and they have their own soldiers called Honors that are specially trained. Harmonizers are the ones who keep us on good terms with other ocean beings like sharks and fish. Anyone who isn't old enough to choose a profession is known as a Student. From when we are old enough to sign to when we pick a profession, we are taught by Instructors. My mate and I are still Students, we have a few years until we can choose a profession."
It occurred to me while I was talking that Peter was the first human to know about these Mermish traditions. It almost felt like I was being a traitor until I realized that the secrecy was in large part due to a language barrier that no one had ever bothered to breach. After finishing my blabbering, I turned my attention to the half-asleep child. "Oh, Peter," I sighed. "You could have told me that you were getting tired." He rubbed his eyes before protesting, "I'm not tired, really! I want to hear more stories of your home." I smiled and gently brushed loose hair out of his face. "Go to bed, child. I can tell you more tomorrow, I promise." With that, he reluctantly left the room, leaving me in the dark cell until morning.