Page 32 of The Merman's Betrothal
‘Acha!’ Fionn exclaimed happily. He beckoned her over. She barked a response and swam closer.
Rory gave him a look of disbelief. ‘You’re friends with this seal?’
‘Of course.’ Fionn swung himself off the boat, landing with a splash. He glided through the water to meet Acha and enveloped her in a hug. She thrashed her flippers playfully and nuzzled her whiskers into his throat. ‘Where have you been, you silly creature? I don’t like when you are away for so long.’
Rory gaped at them. Fionn realised he must look like a childish fool, frolicking with Acha so freely. He pushed her gently away and tried to regain his composure. ‘She is a very loyal friend,’ he said tartly.
By now Rory had tied off his rope and was leaning on the rail with both arms, himself looking rather like an excited child. ‘Would she like a crab?’
Fionn glanced at Acha. ‘They’re not her favourite, but she will certainly take one.’
Rory disappeared briefly, then came back with a large spider crab. He tossed it to the side of Acha and she dove gleefully to catch it.
‘Amazing,’ Rory said.
‘You do not mind seals, then,’ Fionn observed, with some surprise. ‘I have known other human fishermen to spurn them. Hurt them, even. As competition to their catch.’
Rory shrugged, watching Acha as she rolled to show off her belly. He seemed amused by her antics. ‘Some do. Many won’t. Depends which fisherman.’ He produced another crab and tossed it over the rail.
‘You know, Acha here would be just as likely to destroy your creels as I would.’
‘I bet. But she’s only looking for a meal.’ Rory’s eyes flashed to Fionn. ‘Not like it’s personal.’
Fionn caught Acha as she flopped into his side, seeking to start a game. ‘It is my understanding that many humans would not share such a charitable opinion.’
‘Ha.’ Again, that not-quite laugh. ‘I won’t argue on that.’
Rory watched for another minute as Fionn threw a stick from his belt for Acha to catch. She gleefully caught it mid-air and returned it for him to throw again.
‘She’s like a puppy,’ Rory commented.
‘I found her as a pup.’ Fionn stroked a hand over Acha’s sleek head. She nuzzled her nose into his palm in response. ‘She was tangled up in a mess of abandoned fishing nets. She would have died if I hadn’t cut her out.’
Rory made a sound of violent disgust and scowled. ‘Folks should know better than to leave their shit in the ocean.’
‘And yet, many do.’ Fionn beckoned Acha to roll onto her back, exposing a long scar around her throat. ‘This is where the net bit into her. It was so tight.’
‘I’m sorry. Humans are fucking awful.’ The half-smile dropped from Rory’s face and was replaced by a rather moodier expression. The hard set of his brow drew deeper shadows under his eyes, speaking to a world-weariness he otherwise seemed too young to possess.
Indeed, from the identification in his wallet Fionn knew that Rory was technically the younger of them at twenty-nine years of age and Fionn at thirty. But Bluefolk lived slightly longer lives than humans, so where Rory was perhaps a third of the way through his lifespan, Fionn was a quarter of the way through his.
Age aside, it was dawning on Fionn that his life had been even more sheltered than he’d perceived. And part of it was due to his own self-absorption. He’d never considered the complexity of human problems in addition to those faced by Bluefolk.
‘There used to be many more fishermen along this shore,’ he said, speaking his thoughts unintentionally. ‘The Minch was crowded with their boats. It made things very difficult for us.’
Fionn felt Rory’s attention pulled back onto him. It felt rather like making himself a target.
‘I bet we were too much competition, right?’ Rory said, holding Fionn on the end of an impassive stare. ‘You must be happy there are fewer of us here now.’ Then he muttered to himself, tearing his gaze away, ‘Can’t say I blame you.’
Fionn stroked Acha’s freckled head, considering the right response. Rory seemed to dislike his own kind for the same reasons Fionn had disliked them.
Fionn’s grandfather had seen the first steamboats cross this strait, followed by tremendous cargo vessels the like of which had never been seen before. More terrifying had been the new warships of the modern age and their submarines which occasionally navigated the Minch. The Redfolk’s magic played an ever-increasing role in the kingdom’s safety.
Fionn’s lip curled at the unpleasant reminder.
‘It was not always this way,’ Fionn said, in part answering Rory and in part answering himself. ‘There once was a time when Bluefolk and humans mixed freely on land and in water.’
Rory’s retort was sceptical. ‘How did that work, then? I’m pretty sure we’d have stories about it too if there were mermen walking around up here once upon a time…’ His eyebrows scrunched together. ‘Come to think of it, maybe we do.’
