After her "near drowning" experience, which the merman insisted was the opposite of drowning, Kelsea was exhausted. With the sun having set, she knew she should go to sleep. Unfortunately, her legs still felt like they were superglued together so unless she wanted to do the worm across the beach and then haul herself up the side of the boat, she wasn't going to move far from the water for the time being.

When she mumbled something along those lines to the Izmuir, he gripped her forearms and half-swam, half-dragged for a minute until they reached an open, sandy area in deeper water.

Izmuir dropped her unceremoniously on the ground and swam about ten feet over from her. Kelsea observed him as he lied on his back and tucked his arms behind his head without saying a word to her.

(She wondered if they could even speak underwater. After a quick test, the blonde determined that speaking was possible, though not as clear as in the air.)

After a few moments, Kelsea tried to get herself more-or-less comfortable. She eventually settled on her side with head resting on one of her arms. That arm fell asleep after a while yet the rest of her couldn't. Her body screamed at her to sleep, but her brain didn't get the message. Kelsea figured it had something to do with her gills. Maybe, subconsciously, she didn't trust them to work while she slept.

Her sleeplessness gave her plenty of time to think. Rather than focus on the people she missed most, Kelsea forced herself to reflect on the latest developments, i.e. the things on her neck.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was turning into a mermaid. The bumps and bruises on her legs were one thing, but the gills were undeniably inhuman. They meant that if she somehow managed to escape the merman and by some miracle navigate her way home, she would be screwed no matter what. She'd either be hidden away for the rest of her life, become a freak show, or become a scientist's favorite test subject, or perhaps some mix of those.

What if the best she could hope for would be to silently watch her loved ones from afar? What if they moved away from the ocean? What if –

Hey, what happened to her plan to not think about them? So much for that one.

The blonde made an effort to redirect her train of thought. Various meaningless topics flittered across her mind. Every once in a while her eyes would slowly close and she would nod off for a few seconds before jolting herself awake.

Eventually, though, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

When the first rays of daylight lit up her surroundings, Kelsea woke up and studied the underwater world around her.

Either the fish in the area had adjusted to her presence sometime during the night or she was simply able to spot them more easily in the light. Regardless, she saw plenty of fish in many shapes and sizes moving around her. Little translucent ones darted out of the green, swaying seagrass toward her. She flinched when their little scaled bodies brushed against her skin, but tried to remain still when they started to nibble on her hands and feet. After a minute of the tickling sensation, Kelsea changed her position, causing the fish to quickly flee to the seagrass.

A swishing noise brought her attention to her "companion." Izmuir still slept, but evidently he was suffering from a nightmare. He tossed and turned, stirring up the sand around him. She nearly moved to go comfort him, or at least to wake him up, but she remained where she sat. She didn't completely trust him, especially when he wasn't fully conscious.

After a moment he settled down other than the twitches of his tail. His breathing evened out as a grimace vanished from his face. She thought he was going to wake up, but his eyes stayed shut.

It occurred to her, as she observed him, that he wasn't so hard on the eyes. She might have thought he was cute when they first met, but ever since he had gone on psycho-mode and bit her, she hadn't exactly been paying attention to his looks. Besides, Stockholm Syndrome wasn't her style – figuring out a way to undo the mermaid disease and getting back to her family was.

But in the meantime, no harm could come from observing a handsome male specimen.

For the first time since she met him, Izmuir sported a bit of stubble growing on his face. She didn't even know that he could grow a beard. And while she was noticing things about the merman for the first time, she also thought she could see a few of distinct lines of small, white, circular scars going up and around his right forearm.

Her eyes moved down along his body. His tail was a medium gray. If it had at least been shiny or a few shades lighter then maybe it could have passed as silver and complimented his golden eyes. But no, it was just a dingy gray.

As she watched, the flicking of his tail tin became faster and more violent until he was kicking so much he looked like he was going for gold in an Olympic race. The girl was surprised he didn't wake up or sleepwalk – er, sleepswim? – away from his resting spot. At that point she finally decided that enough was enough.

She tried to throw a pebble at him so that she wouldn't have to get near, but it fell to the ground after a short distance, the drag from water slowing it too much.

Kelsea scrabbled closer to Izmuir. Her hand hovered hesitantly over him as she quickly wondered whether or not he would be snappy if she woke him. She took a deep breath (which was less satisfying with gills, by the way) to ready herself.

"Hey, fish boy, wake up," she said, placing her hand on his upper arm and shaking him. "Neither of us are enjoying your dream so you might as well do us both a favor and wake up."

His eyes sprang open and he sang something Kelsea did not understand. It was not a clarity issue because the singing sounded crystal clear even underwater. The message had been short, but the melodic way in which he spoke made her feel like magic was coursing through her body, caressing her from the inside.

Maybe there was some truth to siren songs, after all.

The pleasant sensation lasted only for the briefest of moments and it left her discombobulated when it ended.

"Desist," the merman ordered, pushing away the hand that still shook his shoulder, albeit with much less force than before.

Backing away slowly, she said, "One: Sue me for trying to do something nice. Two: What was that?" She hated how garbled her words sounded underwater now that she had such an impeccable comparison.

Disregarding her question, Izmuir righted himself off the ground and brushed the sand off himself. It was weird seeing him vertical, she thought, since she had always either seen him horizontal or only his head sticking out above the water. After taking his sweet time stretching, he turned his stare on to her.

His eyes narrowed angrily. He opened his mouth as if to speak and Kelsea thought he was about to accuse her of something but he quickly bit down on his bottom lip instead, causing his bottom lip to bleed near the corners of his mouth. The merman squeezed his eyes shut and when they opened again his face was neutral.

"That was a mistake," he said, sounding much less clear than before and not having the same effect on her. "I promised not to speak in that tongue until ... I does not matter when. I will not let it occur again. I extend to you an apology."

Her head tilted slightly to the side. "Um, I accept your apology?"

A still-bleeding corner of the merman's mouth quirked up into his trademark smirk. She could hear the words he left unspoken: Did you ask a question or accept the apology?

Instead, he said, "Come, we have a long journey to make ahead of us." He grabbed her wrist, pulling her up and away.

Kelsea dug her feet into the soil before they got too far. "No way, Jose! You have dragged me this far and I flat-out refuse to go any further! We have a nice set-up here on the island."

Izmuir released the girl and turned around to face her. His tail twitched. "You are well aware than my name is not Jose –"

"It's an expression, fish boy!"

"– and is there anything I can do to make you more compliant? We must not tarry for long."

"Can I become normal again? Can I go home?" she asked, hands on her hips.

The merman grabbed her chin and turned her head left and right. Then he moved in close. His nose brushed against hers as he analyzed her face for something. Kelsea shoved him away.

"Are you unwell?" he asked. "I know no reason for you to be suffering from memory loss. I have answered these same questions before, and I shall answer the same: nay; I need you at my side."

"'Nay,'" she mocked. "My answer is no, too. No to everything."

The two had a stare-down. Kelsea imagined herself as a gunslinger in a western, waiting for the merman to flinch so she could whip out her gun and win their duel and ... What was that? Ah crap. She lost that gunfight.

The merman finished whatever he had been saying and looked at her expectantly, a glint in his eyes.

"Uh, can you repeat that?" she said, trying not to look sheepish.

"I offer a trade."

"A trade," Kelsea echoed as she rolled her eyes. "Okay, yeah. Please, cut to the chase and tell me how you plan to screw me over this time."

"Pardon?"

"Well, It's pretty apparent by now that you get the better end of every deal. I still have no idea what in the world I'm getting out of turing into a fish. Actually, I have no idea what you're getting out of this either since you have yet to explain absolutely anything to me, but I'm sure that you're coming out ahead," she accused.

The merman mirrored Kelsea's defensive stance, but where she was tense, he was lax. She would have guessed that it was all pretense except for his impish expression. What was he so smug about?

He said, "You have not heard my proposal yet."

"Spit it out then, fish boy."

"I cannot guarantee that you will return to your family, but if you come with me then there may be a method by which you might see them."

Being able to see them but not tell them she was relatively okay? That she was alive? "Boy, that sounds depressing." Yet at the same time, Kelsea longed for that opportunity. Not that she'd let the merman know.

Izmuir shrugged. "Perhaps. What would you suggest I give you? You ask many questions; would you like information?"

"You want me to play twenty questions with you?" she asked, her voice taking on a slightly incredulous tone.

"Twenty questions? How do you play questions?"

Kelsea rolled her eyes. "It's questions like that one that remind me of your idiocy. For your information, it's not quite a game, but you to take turns asking questions and answering truthfully. It's not rocket science."

"I see," Izmuir said. "If I allow you to ask whatever questions you desire –"

"Hey, I ask; you never answer," Kelsea interrupted.

"– then would you come with me?"

"Say please."

"Please," he said, his voice flat. If she wanted to hear him beg, Kelsea realized she was not ever going to hear it.

"Okay, add in the part about seeing my family and you... Ugh, I can't believe I'm saying this... You have a deal." Fool her once, shame on him, but fool her twice?

Izmuir took hold of her arm. He adjusted her hand until they clasped forearms. Then, his eyes met hers and he said, "Agreed."

He still looked full of himself, but as they made eye contact Kelsea saw a flash of something more serious in his big, golden eyes.

Though her little victories raised her spirit, the look in his eyes gave Kelsea a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had no idea what to expect next, but it certainly would be unlike she had ever seen before.  

***

In the last draft this was chapter 6 of 8 published chapters. It feels good to know that we're actually going to get chapter 9 (and beyond). Stay tuned for next chapter, where we pick up the pace.