At that moment mermaid song began to blast and warble through the water, strongly audible even from behind rocky walls. It didn’t begin slowly and seductively. Instead it was harsh, brittle, and panicked, coming from several throats at once. Luce felt the shock of that terrified song racing through her and lashed her tail, trying to reach them. There must be a dozen soldiers in their cave, maybe more, all armed with those guns that shot silver blades. She’d have to do her best to fight, any way she could; she’d send the water crashing against them, batter them unconscious before they could kill . . .
But before she’d gone a dozen yards the songs had turned into screams. Half a dozen screams, more, loud at first then fading toward silence like a loud chord struck on a piano and left to decay.
Then there were only two voices Luce could pick out. Then one. And she was still so far away, still fighting the seizing muscles of her tail, still straining as her heart smacked at her ribs.
That final screaming voice was harsh and furious, and it wouldn’t stop. Luce was getting closer now, curtains of seaweed brushing around her torso. They must have their weapons trained on that screaming mermaid, Luce thought in confusion. Why hadn’t they already shot her? Were they torturing her?
Luce hovered at the mouth of the cave, sick with dread. The rock bent and she couldn’t see what was going on; she huddled back into the seaweed. She was so outnumbered. If she was going to rescue the girl in there she needed to have some kind of plan; anything would be better than a crazed dash into the center of a massacre!
“You better shut up now! Goddamned tail. You think you can just swish your fins at us and we’ll melt? That crap doesn’t work on us. We know too much about you. We know what you do.” It was a man’s voice, buzzing and distorted by some kind of electrical mouthpiece.
The mermaid screamed again, and Luce heard a smack.
“Shut up and answer our questions like a good tail, and maybe we’ll let you swim out of here, okay? But we can’t hear you. You’ll have to write with this. Know how to write?”
The scream had faded to a rhythmic wheeze. At least, Luce thought, they probably weren’t hurting her now, but they’d be ready to shoot her at any second. If Luce rushed in to rescue her she’d probably only guarantee the girl’s death. If she did nothing, though . . .
“I . . . Look, I can write, okay? Just stop . . .”
Luce could taste the seeping blood. She could see red corruption staining the water in long slow curls.
“Stupid tail. Remember we can’t hear you. Look. We’re looking for one of you in particular. This one. You know this one? She was heading this way.”
What was the man talking about? One in particular? Why? Luce froze, her bewilderment darkening into dread.
“A . . . What? A photo? But that looks like . . .” the mermaid began. Her voice was piercing, startled.
Another smack. “What did I tell you about writing?”
There were a few seconds of near silence: just a faint moaning and the surge of the sea around Luce’s ears.
“You haven’t seen her? You sure about that? She’s called Luce. The one we’re looking for. You know Luce?”
There was another silence, this time broken by a few rough sobs. Luce had the feeling the girl had noticed the face of a murdered friend among the dead.
Had the mermaids in that cave died because these men were hunting for her? But why would they care about her at all? She’d thrown their boat into a cliff when those soldiers fired at her back in Alaska, of course, but . . .
How did they know her name?
“What do you mean, you’ve only heard about her? She got away from us up north, killed a few of our guys, and now she’s causing us more trouble. We’re not too happy about that, all right? If you help us find her . . .”
Another silence. Luce’s dread thickened, knotted like slimy ropes. Was there any chance they’d let the girl go? It didn’t seem likely. Luce started to slide into the bloody water oozing from the cave. She turned a corner and saw a crowd of black legs on a stone floor. Men stood chest-deep in crimson water.
She had one advantage, Luce realized. Only one. The same protective helmets that blocked out the mermaids’ songs . . .
“Is that a fact? You won’t help us catch Queen Luce? Well, then . . .”
Luce’s song was already rising, calling the water. The soldiers couldn’t hear it, of course. They didn’t notice anything as the first note soared up around them. But a few seconds later they could feel their legs suddenly yanked out from under them by currents like twisting snakes. Luce’s song split into several violent notes all curling in different directions, and soldiers in slick rubber suits shot through the black air, waving in space, and bashed into the walls. Coils of blood-bright water chased them, gripped them, threw them again. Their bodies collided with the corpses of the mermaids they’d killed, already back in human form. Most of the soldiers had dropped their guns, but a few still held on. Luce couldn’t stop singing then, not while they might still shoot, and in desperation she hurled her voice up the scale.
Even as they swung, shouting through the cave’s darkness, one of them had seen her. His gun was up, and he was trying to aim. Luce focused on the water gripping him until he was buffeted face-first again the ceiling. The heavy gun finally flung free, whipping into a girl’s severed arm before it tumbled down into the water.
The living mermaid had to be here somewhere, spinning through this chaos of crimson water and electric screams and black thrashing limbs . . .
Luce didn’t mean to kill the soldiers, just stun or hurt them enough that she and the other mermaid—there she was, clinging to a rock in the corner, blood-slicked, flurried by waves—could get away. But she couldn’t keep her song going at such a frenzied pitch forever, and at least one man still clutched his gun like a baby against his chest, both arms wrapping it close.
Luce’s voice flung higher, sharpening into a scream, and dashed him headlong into the jagged wall.
There was a loud crack. He fell limp into the water, and Luce could see that the angle of his head was very wrong.
She hadn’t wanted to kill him. Her voice died away in anguish, and bodies plummeted into crimson foam. Luce fought through the pounding rain of half-conscious men. There wasn’t much time before they recovered, at least enough to dive for their guns again.
The mermaid in the corner was wheezing out a kind of low, rhythmic shriek. When Luce grabbed her wrist under the water she only clung harder to her rock, then swung at Luce with her tail. Luce dodged, splashing up through the surface, and crashed right into a black-suited diver, who made a bleary grab for her throat. He just missed her, then lost his balance and flailed in the crimson froth.
“Are you insane? We’ve got to get out of here!” Luce shouted at the blood-drenched mermaid. Every moment of delay could be one too many.
The girl stared around as if she couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from, still wheezing shrilly. She was so spattered with gore that the faint glow of her skin came through like moonlight through ruby glass. Luce grasped her by the arm and pulled, and this time the shocked mermaid folded passively toward the water, letting Luce drag her away.