A Novelette
As the character says at the beginning, the story is about an ancient queen, an underwater king and bare-breasted maidens; a tale of mind-control and mystics and creatures of the sea; it’s about a shipwreck and a treasure and murder most foul; but most of all it’s a cautionary tale about a bull-headed adventurer who rushes into challenges without thought of risk or consequence.
Average Reading Time: 33 – 47 minutes (about 11,500 words)
Cleopatra’s Medallion
Chuck Heintzelman
Copyright © 2011 by Chuck Heintzelman
When Dr. Chambers had finished his story, Pleasant Nash raised his mug of ale. “Amazing story. To have escaped without losing a limb is a testament to both your bravery and skill.”
Pleasant looked around the large oak table at the other storytellers. It was his turn. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his right thigh. “Many have asked about my limp but I have always brushed such inquiries aside. The tale’s too personal. I’ve been afraid telling it may somehow lesson its significance. But here tonight, in the company of you fine gentlemen and ladies, I feel the urge to share.
“My story is about an ancient queen, an underwater king and bare-breasted maidens; a tale of mind-control and mystics and creatures of the sea; it’s about a shipwreck and a treasure and murder most foul; but most of all it’s a cautionary tale about a bull-headed adventurer who rushes into challenges without thought of risk or consequence.”
~
My adventure begins in 1904 with a card game in Russia.
I had just wrapped up an excursion down on the Dark Continent, which is another tale. I hopped a clipper to Morocco and then secured passage on a schooner to Copenhagen. At least that’s where I thought our destination was. The captain had a different idea. The vessel sailed right past Denmark, through the Baltic Sea, and docked at St. Petersburg. I found myself in a strange land, unable to speak the language, barely able to rub two pennies together.
Such is life. Wasn’t the first time I had found myself in such a predicament and I dare say it would be the last. I set out to find a way to make a quick buck, or in this case, ruble.
My sense of smell is so keen I am able to hound out the scent of gambling a mile away. Following my nose, I soon found myself in a dingy, smoke filled room with men playing cards.
I studied the men. They seemed decent gents, for Russians.
“Does anyone speak English?” I asked.
A large, barrel-chested man with the bushiest mustache I had ever seen spoke. “Yankee, da?”
“Yes, I am from America. Although it has been years since I’ve stepped foot on her fair shores.” I held out my hand. “Name’s Pleasant Nash.”
The man took my hand, crushing it. “Grisha.” He pointed around the table at the men hunched over their cards. “Is Alexsi, Fedya, and Petrov.”
I nodded at the men.
For a moment, nobody spoke, then they eyed one another and broke out laughing—a loud, bellowing, slap-each-other-on-the-back type of laughter. I didn’t understand the joke. Perhaps vodka caused the merriment.
Grisha stood and grabbed my shoulders. “You sit.” I let myself be manhandled to the seat.
“What are we playing?”
“Is Prefarans,” Grisha said.
An English friend had explained the game to me several years earlier, although he had called it Preference. Since the game had similarities to bridge, I knew I’d pick it up in no time.
I reached deep into my trouser pocket and pulled out my money. Not much, but I acted confident, as if this were my starting stake, not all the money I owned.
Grisha grabbed my paltry few coins, hefted them as if his hand were an assayer’s scale, then put a few rubles from the table into his other hand. He moved both hands in a seesaw pattern, measuring each hand’s weight against the other, and added a couple more coins. Satisfied, he handed me the rubles. My money disappeared into his pocket.
I was sure he shortchanged me. Didn’t matter. I’d win it back.
The first few hands almost busted me, but I picked the game up, asking Grisha for clarification when needed. After an hour, I had most of the rubles in my pile. My winnings would provide food and lodging for the next week. The men around the table had lost all humor and glared at me over their cards. The time to make my exit had arrived. Grisha and Alexsi still had money on the table, but a smart gambler knows when to take the money and run.
I turned to Grisha, ready to make an excuse to leave. Next to him stood the strangest looking man I had ever laid eyes on. I hadn’t noticed the man’s arrival. He wasn’t old, early to mid-thirties. He wore a gray monk’s robe and stroked his long, scraggly, black beard while studying me. His hollow, vacant eyes bored right into my head, as if ferreting secrets from my brain.
Around the table, not a single card scraped nor any coin clinked.
Remembering my manners, I stood and extended my hand. “Pleasant Nash.”
Grisha shook his head, motioning me to be quiet. “Father Grigory Rasputin wishes to play.”
I had never heard of Rasputin. Later he’d be infamously known as the Mad Monk of Moscow.
I sat back at the table, ready to increase my bounty even more.
It didn’t happen. Rasputin’s penetrating gaze unsettled me. In twenty minutes all my rubles had moved to his pile. He must have cheated, but damn me if I knew how.
Call if a flaw in my character but I cannot turn down a challenge, even a stupid one. Determined not to go away defeated, I pulled my silver pocket-watch from my vest pocket and held it a moment. My grandfather had left the watch to me in his will. A large, ornate letter P decorated the outside–his name was Phineas. The letter matched my Christian name as well. I placed the watch on the table. “I propose one final wager. High card wins. I bet this against all money on the table.”
Rasputin could not cheat at a wager of pure chance. Even odds. Either I walked away rich or without my sole heirloom. A rash decision, but I was caught up in the fever of the moment.
“Da,” Rasputin said, reaching for the cards.
I held up my hand. “No. I deal.” I shuffled and dealt us each a single card. I flipped mine over and cringed. A seven. It could be worse, but not much.
Rasputin watched me with inscrutable eyes. He didn’t turn his card over.
A spark of hope flickered in my chest. “Let’s see it.”
He showed the card. A nine. I groaned and pushed my watch across the table to him. Somehow I had to get my watch back.
True gamblers don’t quit. They never give up. Odds can be stacked against them, yet they’ll go for the win every time. After all, eventually everyone has to win. I pulled out a parchment from another vest pocket and smoothed the paper out on the table, revealing a map. On the top left corner of the map was an image of a medallion. A black outline formed a single, falcon-like eye in profile, the Eye of Ra.
I met Grisha’s stare with my own.
“Double or nothing. I have spent considerable money and sweat obtaining this map. It shows the location of Cleopatra’s Medallion.”
I waited for recognition in Grisha’s eyes. None came.
“Come on, man, translate.”
He barely got two Russian words out when Rasputin’s eyes widened even larger than their usual state. He, at least, knew of Cleopatra’s Medallion. According to legend the medallion’s bearer could force their will on others. It had been passed down from one Egyptian pharaoh to the next, allowing the rulers to exert absolute control over their subjects.
Rasputin and Grisha exchanged words in Russian before Grisha spoke to me. “How do we know map is real?”
“I spent two months traipsing through Africa for this map. I’d stake my reputation on its authenticity.”
Rasputin nodded.
I shuffled again and dealt us each another card. I couldn’t look at mine. I waited for Rasputin to reveal his. He did, a three.
Grinning, confident my luck had changed, I flipped my card over. A two. A damn two. I couldn’t believe it. I had lost not only my precious pocket-watch but also the map—the treasure I had risked malaria, poisonous reptiles, and hostile natives to obtain. For a second I was tempted to take the map and run, but I have never welshed on a bet. I pushed the map across the table to Rasputin, my fingers lingering on it.
He snatched the map from me, greedy eyes devouring it. Rasputin spoke to Grisha, who translated. “What is Devil’s Foot?”
Grisha hadn’t translated the map’s legend. Rasputin must have read it. If you could read a language, chances were you could speak it. Did Rasputin fake his lack of skills in English?
“That’s what they call the island. See how the cliffs rise on the one side?” I tried pointing to the map, but Rasputin yanked it away. “Well, those cliffs are the toes. The entire island resembles a giant foot.”
“You know where island is?” Grisha asked.
“It’s uncharted, but I know the general vicinity. After raising funds, I planned to mount an expedition to locate it.”
More Russian banter between Grisha and Rasputin. “You lead expedition. Father Grigery pays.”
I scratched my chin.
“Fine, but my services don’t come cheap.”
Rasputin spoke in Russian, Grisha translated. “Father Grigery pay you two thousand rubles.”
I shook my head back and forth. “This is a dangerous quest. I couldn’t do it for less than five thousand.”
“Three thousand,” Grisha said, after consulting Rasputin.
“And return the watch,” I said.
Rasputin tossed the pocket-watch back to me.
“Done,” I said, holding out my hand to Rasputin. This time the strange monk shook my hand.
“Is good,” Rasputin said, his English clearer than Grisha’s.
~
That’s how I found myself on a ship heading south to the island of Crete. The Devil’s Foot was somewhere in the Mediterranean. We would replenish our supplies on the mainland, before setting out to find the island where, hopefully, we’d find the medallion.
Aboard the ship I had no authority; the captain and his crew eyed me with suspicion and disdain. Unable to communicate, I longed for Grisha’s translating skills. Once, for a brief instant, I thought I spied Grisha among a group of men across the deck, but when I rushed over he wasn’t there. One crewman, a skinny man, with a red bandanna over his bald head, knew a few English curse words. Words I used after failing to communicate with him. I spent my time in my cabin, mulling over the rash behavior that landed me aboard this ship.
In addition to controlling minds, Cleopatra’s Medallion supposedly kept the bearer from being harmed. Men couldn’t kill you. The protection came with a curse, though. If you used the medallion you were destined to die in the jaws of a creature. Superstition. Jewelry can’t enable someone to control another’s mind. Cleopatra died from a cobra’s bite—a suicide—but did the medallion cause it? Not hardly.
The sea turned rough a day out from Crete. Wind caught hold and shook the ship like a dog with a bone. One moment I lay in my bed, calculating my profit on this trip, the next moment the ship lurched, flinging me from bed. The ship twisted sideways, and I crashed against the cabin wall. My belongings scattered across the room. Had the bed not been bolted to the floor, it would have crushed me.
I left my cabin, holding onto the overhead for support, went through the galley, and up onto the ship’s deck. The captain had wrapped a rope around his middle, tying himself in front of the ship’s wheel. He bellowed orders while struggling to keep the wheel steady. Men scurried, dropping sails, securing the trapdoors and hatches.
“What’s happening?” I yelled, but the wind swallowed my words.
I looked around wondering what I could do to help. A large wave surged up and swept a crewman overboard. I ran across the deck, clutched the side rail with a death grip, and scanned the water. In the wink of an eye, he was gone. Lost in the turbulent sea.
Below deck would be the safest place. I sprinted back toward the galley’s entrance, but a wave caught me and tossed me into the trashing water.
I struggled to stay afloat, but the water pulled me deeper. I was a man possessed, kicking and clawing blindly toward the surface. My lungs burned; I couldn’t hold my breath much longer. Finally, my head broke through the surface.
I gulped air, but relief was short. The water pulled me under again. I struggled, choking and gasping. Water filled my lungs.
I’ve heard drowning is a peaceful way to go. It’s not. Your body struggles to do two contradictory things at the same time: expel water from your lungs and take air into your lungs. What happens when an irresistible force meets an unmovable object? Pain and unconsciousness.
Before blacking out, I had a vision of Rasputin, staring at me with those weird eyes.
My adventure really began after I drowned.
~
I awoke next to a pool in a dark cavern with a naked woman’s hand on my forehead.
I sat straight up, brushing the woman’s hand aside. “What the—?”
I stopped, realizing the strangeness of this woman. She leaned toward me, half in the water, half out. Her creamy, white breasts glistened with water. Her wide, haunting eyes were too large to be human. I couldn’t tell where the pupils stopped and the black irises started. She cocked her head sideways, as if ready to ask a question. Wet hair spilled over one shoulder, dripping down her bare breast. I willed myself to pull my eyes from her chest and continue my appraisal. At her hip the white skin changed to a shimmering silver-green. I craned my neck to look down her backside. Water obscured most of her lower half, but the visible portion resembled a form-fitting, sparkling evening gown. I thought such creatures to be myths, fabrications of drunken sailors. She was a mermaid.
“You are safe,” came a soft, musical voice.
As difficult as it was to look away from this enchanting creature, I forced myself to examine my surroundings. I lay in a large cavern, at the edge of a pool fifteen yards across. A five-foot strip of land ran around the pool’s perimeter. The cavern walls arched into an overhead dome, from which sharp stalactites dangled. Moss covered the walls and ceiling, glowing with yellow light, making the water sparkle and giving a twilight feel to the place.
“I saved you.” The same singsong voice. Her lips didn’t move as she spoke. Somehow the voice was inside my head.
“Thank you,” I said. Words were inadequate. “Uh, can you understand me?”
“Yes.”
“Can you read my thoughts?”
“No. I can give you my thoughts but cannot take yours from you.”
Thank God. I forced my gaze away from her breasts again.
“How is it you speak English?”
“Silly man animal, we speak all land languages.” She laughed, a sound like a xylophone.
“My name is Pleasant Nash.”
“You may call me Kyreah.”
“Are there many of you?” I asked.
“We are many, but fewer than in past times.”
“Why?”
Kyreah’s face clouded for a second. She touched my hand. “You are safe.”
“How many is many? Hundreds? Thousands?”
She didn’t respond.
Here I was, talking to a mermaid as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “How did you save me?”
“With a kiss.”
Preposterous. Being brought back to life with a kiss from a mermaid sounded like something from a fairy tale. Then again, talking to a mermaid seemed like something from a fairy tale.
“You doubt me?” Kyreah asked.
“I thought you said you can’t read my mind.”
She laughed again, several short, musical bursts. “I can read your face. My people do not have gills. We have lungs and must breathe air. Our saliva forms a barrier in the back of our throats and leeches air from the water, allowing it to pass through for our bodies to absorb. Had your lungs been completely filled with water or had you been dead I could not have revived you.”
This was difficult to believe. “You saved me with a kiss?”
“I gave you enough saliva to allow you to breathe. Your body does not replenish the barrier so the effect only lasts for an hour.”
Having someone spit in your mouth is much less romantic than being kissed.
“What I have done is forbidden,” Kyreah said. “If the King’s Patrol discovers I have saved a man animal, I will be put to death. I watched your companion drown, knowing I could do nothing.”
“But you saved me?”
“When I saw you I had—you do not have a word for it, but insight is close—I had the insight you could help me.”
I pinched the bridge between my eyes. Was this a dream? Maybe I was still back in Africa, ill with malaria, having fevered hallucinations. I looked at Kyreah. I can’t turn down a damsel in distress, even if the damsel is in a dream and has a fish tail. “How can I help?”
“I do not know. I only had the insight you could.”
I straightened my shoulders. “Tell me what ails you, and I will do what I can.”
“It is Father. He has been a wise and fair ruler for almost two hundred years. But three years ago he changed.”
How long did these creatures live? “Wait a second. Your father’s the king?”
“Yes.”
“He’d have you put to death for saving me?”
“Never in the past, but now he would not hesitate. It is Rotash’s doing. Rotash is the most despicable creature you can imagine. He is Father’s most trusted adviser. Outlawing contact with man animals was Rotash’s idea. Building up the King’s Patrol so they now strike fear in my people also came from Rotash. He even instructed the King to hoard land treasures. What use are diamonds and gold to us?”
I wanted to help, but when she mentioned treasure I became committed.
“Rotash,” Kyreah said, “somehow convinced Father to do these horrible things and more. It is with this you can help.”
“How?”
“I do not know.”
I got to my feet and paced back and forth beside the pool. How could I help? I knew nothing about Rotash. What was he capable of? What were his weaknesses? I turned back to Kyreah and again her beauty—and nakedness—struck me mute.
I rubbed my temple, forcing my thoughts to the task at hand. “Tell me about Rotash.”
“His background is mysterious. Three years ago he joined us. He is from our cousins in the Indian Ocean. We have always been a welcoming people, willing to take in our kind from anywhere. We have a saying, ‘The Mediterranean has a small tail but wide arms.’ Yet my people disliked Rotash. He remained an outsider. One day he obtained an audience with the King. Somehow he tricked the King into appointing him chief adviser. Since then the sea has been dark indeed.”
“Can we talk to someone from his old, uh, clan—is that the right word?”
“I understand. From the Indian Ocean Water People?”
“Yes, from them. Can we talk to somebody who knew Rotash?”
She frowned. “Possibly. The journey is a hard swim of many weeks.”
“Do you know anyone there you can talk to with your mind? You know, like you are with me?”
She giggled. “Silly man animal, I can only push my words to those physically close.”
I was short on ideas. “Can I see this Rotash? Secretly observe him?”
“What you suggest is impossible.”
“I must find his weakness.”
She sighed. “We may be able to see him when Father holds court, but it will be dangerous.”
I grinned. “Danger’s my middle name.”
She looked confused.
“Never mind. When does the king hold court?”
Kyreah looked up toward the cavern’s ceiling, cocked her head one way, held it there for a moment and then leaned her head the other way. “Session will start in twenty-four minutes. We must hurry. Come.” She motioned me down.
“What?” I said, kneeling down.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and put her mouth on mine. “We cannot have you drown.” Odd how she could speak to me with our mouths occupied. Passing saliva wasn’t as disgusting as I had imagined. In fact it was quite enjoyable. It involved tongues circling each other. If not for the fact she was half fish I think we would have been late to the king’s court.
~
“Ease into the water,” Kyreah said, “hang onto the edge and duck your head underwater. Open your mouth and take a shallow breath.”
I did as instructed, sliding into the pool next to her. Unfortunately, I inhaled through my nose. Water filled my sinuses—not fun—and trickled down my throat. I choked and sputtered underwater before clawing my way up the side of the pool. I coughed for several minutes before breathing normal again.
“Breathe through your mouth,” she said.
I ducked underwater again and took a short, quick breath. My mouth felt as if cotton filled it, yet air reached my lungs.
“Breathe out through your mouth too. It works best if you pant. Short breaths in and out.”
In the dark water, illuminated by the cavern above us, I could clearly see her face. She smiled. Her hair splayed out in the water.
Kyreah firmly grasped my upper arm. “Let us go.” She pulled me deeper, into the black depths.
An involuntary shiver ran through my body. The water was cold.
“The Water People are warm blooded as you are,” came her melodic voice in my head. “Usually we do not go into areas like this. It is too cold for comfort and too dark to see predators.”
I wanted to respond. The ability to push thoughts to others would be useful while underwater.
She pulled me along, her powerful tail propelling us. I think we moved on the level, neither rising nor descending, but couldn’t be sure. It was impossible to see in the dark water. Perhaps it was nighttime, or perhaps we were deep enough the light could not penetrate. The water pressure made my jaw ache. I wanted to ask how deep we were.
Being pulled through the water, unable to see, having no control, was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I wanted to let go, push her away and swim toward the surface. Panicking, I breathed deep, attempting to gulp in air. It didn’t work. Thanks to the special saliva I didn’t get water in my lungs, but I didn’t get much oxygen either. She must have felt me pull against her because we stopped.
“You must take shallow, panting breaths,” she said. “Do not worry, we are almost to the light.”
She pulled me again. I did my best not to panic and breathe as she instructed, but breathing in such a manner is not natural. Before long we swam into an area light enough for me to see.
“This is better for you now?”
I nodded my head up and down.
Above, not more than forty feet away, the surface sparkled with daylight. Behind me, a cliff rose from the water. The cliff’s most interesting feature was underwater. It descended straight down into the water for some thirty, thirty-five feet. Then it receded straight away, into the darkness. We had just swam out from underneath it. Did the island float in the water? Such a thing seemed impossible.
“This is a very large cave. We call them grand dzonots.”
That explained both the darkness and the water’s cool temperature. Sunlight did not penetrate far into the massive cave.
Kyreah grabbed my hand. “Come, we must hurry.”
We swam along the cliff side, eventually reaching the cave’s edge. I marveled at the sea life as we went. Bizarre looking plants jutted out horizontally from the cliff. Rainbow colored fish would float lazily beside us before darting away, as if realizing we might be dangerous.
“The throne room is in a cavern with a shallow pool,” Kyreah said. “The King will be laying on a small platform at one end, above everyone else. Guards and advisers will surround him on all sides. He will call people one by one before him to hear their pleas, settle disputes, and pronounce judgment.”
We stopped and Kyreah studied the cliff side for a moment. “Now we go to the surface.” She pulled me up.
We reached the water’s surface. I tread water, breathing deeply. Fresh air felt wonderful.
The cliff rose at least another hundred feet into the sky. We were at the edge of an island. I couldn’t see the island’s left side, the cliff curved around away from me, but on the right the island extended far into the distance. Hopefully, the overcast sky was not a portent to the task ahead.
“Wait a minute.” I swam backward, trying to see the entire island. “What is this island called?”
“We call it a name you cannot pronounce. I do not know what your people call it.”
I swam back to Kyreah. I knew how Rotash influenced the king.
“My people call it ‘The Devil’s Foot. ’”
Kyreah looked away, cocking her head to one side, as she did earlier. “We must hurry. Court has started.”
She pointed at a small cave five feet above our heads in the cliff’s side. “It is good we are at low tide, or this would not work. It is too risky to try to spy on Rotash from the viewing pool, but there is a passage which will take you to a point you can overlook the court.”
“You’re not coming?” I asked.
“I cannot traverse the path without difficulty. Had the tide been high, I could swim through, but then the likelihood the passage would be empty would be small.”
I looked at the cave above me. The rocks didn’t appear too hard to climb. I mentally tightened my belt, ready to help. “Will you be here when I get back?”
“Yes, Mr. Nash. I will wait for you.”
“Call me Pleasant.”
A rock jutted out from the cliff at water level. I reached high, gripped the cliff’s side, and pulled my knee up to the rock. I tried bringing my foot up next to my knee and fell backward.
“Let me help you. Stand on my hands.” She swam underneath me, grabbed my feet, and pushed me up out of the water as if I weighed nothing. I scrambled for the cave’s mouth and pulled myself in.
I turned back and looked down on Kyreah. “Thanks. What does Rotash look like?”
“You cannot mistake him for another. He is of dark skin, my people are of light.”
I nodded to her, turned and proceeded into the cave, ducking to avoid the low ceiling. The cave appeared well used; countless feet, or maybe tails, had smoothed the floor. I crept forward, alert for sound. After a dozen steps darkness surrounded me, the light from the cave’s entrance no longer reaching. I followed the passage around twists and turns, feeling my way along the rough walls, listening carefully, making as little sound as possible. Soon, I reached the passage’s end and looked down at the scene below.
The cavern below me was three or four times as large as the one I had awoke in earlier. It was set up the same way with a large pool in the center, a small strip of land circling the pool’s perimeter, stalactites on the ceiling, and the luminescent moss covering the walls and ceiling. Dozens of mermaids and mermen littered the pool, most around the edges with the largest concentration on the end opposite the king. Had I not known they were fish people, I would have thought they were ordinary humans. The water obscured their fish part, leaving the human half visible. They stood erect like they were somehow standing on their tails. Everyone, both male and female, was bare-chested.
The king rested on his front on a platform angling out of the water. His tail twitched lazily back and forth. In the water on each side of the king stood guards, each holding a trident. Just below the tines of each trident dangled a loop, like a belt. Perhaps they used the loop to strap the trident to their back.
Off to one side stood Rotash, arms across his tiny, puffed-out chest, acting all-important. He was puny, frailer than I had imagined. From the smirk on his face I pegged him as one of those annoying little men who think they’re smarter than everyone else.
I groaned internally upon seeing Rotash. He wasn’t wearing Cleopatra’s Medallion. I had been positive he used the medallion to control the king, but he was as bare-chested as the others. A few merpeople wore neckbands and some had bags slung across their backs, but these people didn’t wear much clothing or jewelry.
A merman moved across the pool, stopping halfway to the king when Rotash held out his hand. What followed was one of the most bizarre scenes I have ever witnessed. From the pool’s middle the man bowed. He moved his hands around wildly, sometimes together, mostly apart, punctuating his gestures with snorts and squeaks. The king nodded and grunted. Rotash uncrossed his arms and thrashed them around as the man had, all the while squeaking. The king nodded and the man started again.
Even if I could hear their “push talking” I doubt I’d have understood the language.
This went on for a while and then the crowd joined in, making squeaks and grunts and snorts. The sound rose to a crescendo and abruptly stopped. You could have heard a pin splash. The man in the middle sank from sight. The crowd parted and in swam a woman. Two guards followed, their tridents at the ready. The woman was Kyreah.
The guards ushered her to the center and then, as one, every creature in the cavern turned and looked up at me.
Kyreah’s melodic voice appeared in my mind. “I am sorry, Mr. Nash. The King’s Patrol saw me help you into the cave.”
What could I do? I couldn’t escape and leave Kyreah captured. Smiling wide, I waved at the crowd. “Howdy. I’m Pleasant Nash. Pleased to meet you.”
A large, booming voice echoed in my head. “Why are you here, ape man?”
I’m pretty sure the voice came from the king. I held out my hands, palms up, trying to look innocent. “During a storm I was swept from my ship.”
The king grunted and waved at a guard. Several stepped forward—well, they must have swam forward, but they kept upright while they moved. The guards pointed their tridents at me.
A force surrounded me and squeezed. I couldn’t grunt, let alone speak. I tried to step backward but couldn’t move against the invisible grip. The unseen force pulled me forward over the pool and suspended me in the air. Slowly, I descended next to Kyreah. The force released me. I flailed in the water before realizing the pool there was only three feet deep.
A small merboy stood next to Rotash. Around the boy’s neck hung a bronze medallion with a single, falcon-like eye in profile, the Eye of Ra. He wore Cleopatra’s Medallion.
“Who’s that?” I whispered to Kyreah.
“He is Trayo. A harmless youth who accompanies Rotash everywhere.”
She did not realize Trayo manipulated the king, not Rotash. But was Rotash directing the boy?
“Ape man,” the king said, “you have intruded on royal matters. The penalty is death.”
I started to gulp, but caught myself in mid-swallow. First rule of gambling, never show fear.
“Honored sir.” I bowed. “I meant no offense. I am a seer. Kyreah told me of your people’s misfortune and I came to offer my services.” I wanted to stall until I could figure a way out of this mess.
The king seemed to consider, but then his face hardened. “How can an ape man help us?”
“Oh no, honored sir. I cannot help your people. Your race is far superior to mine. I can only show you what will happen in the future based on actions you take now. Only your wise leadership can solve your problems. I am an information source.”
“You can tell the future?” Kyreah mind-whispered to me.
I grinned, hoping Kyreah could glean the truth, but to everyone else I’d appear confident.
“You claim to foresee the future?” the king asked.
I sensed a trap. “Specifically, I can tell you how an action yet to be performed will affect the future.”
“Then you should have known your action coming here would result in your death.” He squeaked orders to his guards and they advanced, tridents pointed at me.
Kyreah stepped in front of me, held out her hands, and communicated with weird squeaks, grunts, and gestures.
“Stay behind me. I am explaining how you intended neither offense nor harm.”
The guards pointed their tridents at Kyreah and lifted her in the air with their invisible grips.
With everyone focused on Kyreah, I saw my opportunity. I ducked under water and tried a shallow breath. The Mermaid’s Kiss still worked. I lay on my back under three feet of water and considered my options.
I had no options. I could try running, or swimming, but wouldn’t make it far. Merpeople had the advantage over me in the water. Leaving Kyreah to face her trouble—trouble I caused—wasn’t right.
I didn’t have time to come up with another option because the invisible fist gripped me again, pulling me out of the water. Two guards had tridents pointed at me. I tried shaking the water from my hair, but the viselike grip prevented me from moving my head.
They lifted me five feet above the water, hovering next to Kyreah, facing the king. The crowd gathered behind me, their strange sounds grew louder as they approached. I rolled my eyes down, looking in all directions. Dozens of merfolk were now below me.
Was this my end? Were they going to feed on me or rip me to shreds? I didn’t know their culture or ways. These creatures no longer looked exotic to me. They seemed menacing.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Most Water People,” Kyreah said, “have never seen a man animal.”
The group below me kept gathering, growing larger and louder. They crowded the guards, blocking the tridents, releasing me. I fell. The instant before hitting the water a giant invisible hand grabbed me. Other guards had stepped in with their tridents.
In their attempt to control me they jerked me back and forth, squeezing and releasing, flinging me around the cavern. I felt like a rag doll fought over by two dogs, one moment I was loose and free, the next I’m wrenched away.
They flung me against the ceiling. A stalactite impaled my right thigh.
The pain was immediate and overpowering—lightning bolts through my leg. I screamed. For a long, agonizing moment the guards pulled on me while the stalactite held. Had they pulled me straight down I would have slid off of it, but they pulled sideways. All the while I’m screaming. The crowd again moved between the guards and me, breaking their hold. Free to move, I struggled to pull myself from the stalactite, but couldn’t. It gripped me as securely as the guards had.
The guards reconnected and tore me from the ceiling. Instead of coming off the stalactite, it broke off, still imbedded in my leg. I fell down, stopping ten feet above the water. The pain blared, a trumpet in my head, but I forced it away. I had to think, figure a way to escape, pain be damned.
Below me lay total mayhem. The crowd stared, faces upturned. They bumped and jostled and crowded each other, some dropping from sight under the water, only to be replaced by another. The king no longer lay on the inclined platform. I didn’t know where he was. I couldn’t see Kyreah; she was lost among the multitude of bodies. Escape seemed impossible.
The guards released me, and I fell again. The crowd below parted, allowing me to fall into the water and down to the pool’s bottom.
My leg had dulled to a low, throbbing ache, but the water spiked the pain again. I panted through it. With the Mermaid’s Kiss still active, panting worked in my favor.
Someone grabbed my arm, yanking me forward.
“Do not worry,” Kyreah said. “I will save you.”
She dragged me across the pool’s bottom, to an underwater exit.
My vision dimmed; I thought I was on the brink of passing out. No, Kyreah had pulled me into dark waters.
This was backward—I should be rescuing the maiden, not she rescuing me. Had I been above the water I would have laughed out loud.
We stopped in the murk.
“I know a way to get you to shore without crossing the open waters. We should be safe.”
I gritted my teeth ignoring the pain in my leg, and tried to smile. I didn’t know if she could see me.
“Once to shore, I will help with your leg. First, one thing.” She held my face, palms on each cheek, and touched my lips with hers. For a brief, but enjoyable, moment I forgot the pain in my leg.
She broke the kiss. “Sorry. I did not know how much longer your breathing would last.”
This time I smiled without gritting my teeth.
“How touching.” I didn’t recognize the voice in my head, high-pitched and whiny, but masculine.
A light appeared, illuminating Rotash and the boy with the medallion. The light came from Rotash’s trident.
Kyreah and Rotash began gesturing to each other. The boy came closer to me, looking at me as if I were a strange zoo animal. While he examined me, I inspected the medallion dangling from his neck. Bronze, with a black outline of a falcon-like eye, the Eye of Ra, sometimes called the Eye of Horus. Definitely Cleopatra’s Medallion.
“Can you really foresee the future?” the boy asked.
I nodded. If the kid found me interesting then maybe I could stay alive long enough to figure out an escape.
“Man animals cannot share thoughts?” the boy asked.
I shook my head back and forth.
A shadow appeared behind the boy, moving fast. A shark!
I barely had time to register its presence, let alone warn the boy, before it snatched the kid between its massive jaws. The shark pulled the boy down into the darkness. I reached out and tried to grab the kid’s arm, but missed. Instead, I snagged the medallion, ripping it from his neck. I didn’t intend to grab it, but when I realized I had it, I quickly stuffed it into my trouser pocket.
The water, illuminated by Rotash’s trident, took on a red tint. I felt my gorge rise.
Kyreah grabbed me under the arm, pulling me with her. “Blood will attract more predators. We must leave.”
Once again the maiden rescued me. This was becoming a habit I didn’t like, but what other choice did I have? Stand my ground out of some misplaced chivalry and end up in the jaws of a shark? I swallowed my pride and allowed myself to be pulled from danger.
The boy obviously had been controlling the king with the medallion. Would the king now revert back to the kind and loving ruler Kyreah described? What about Rotash? Was he directing the boy’s manipulation? Would he still be a valued adviser? I didn’t know and I didn’t really care. This underwater world was not for me. The sooner I got away, made my way back to Russia, delivered the medallion to Rasputin, and collected my reward, the better.
The medallion’s curse had proved itself. The boy died in the jaws of a beast. Was I safe carrying the medallion? One thing was certain, I would not wear it.
~
Kyreah took me to the island’s shallow shore, a dozen feet from the sandy beach. A large group of rocks twenty feet farther out blocked the waves, making the water I lay in calm.
“Wait here,” she said. “I need to get something. I will be right back.”
“Okay,” I said, but she was already gone.
Lying in just a few inches of water, I examined my leg, first probing gently around the wound’s edge, and then more urgently as I realized I had no feeling in the leg. I curled my toes and wiggled my foot. The leg wasn’t paralyzed and the bleeding had almost stopped. Maybe the salt water helped. Somewhere along the way, the chunk of stalactite had come out.
I sat up and watched the waves lap against the rocks and waited for Kyreah to return. What would I do next? I felt the medallion in my pocket through the fabric of my britches. I was tempted to examine it, but didn’t want to touch the thing. If I gave it to Rasputin with a minimum of handling, hopefully I’d avoid the curse.
Rasputin. What a creepy man. Why had I agreed to this stupid quest? One reason—pride. I shook my head ruefully. Would I ever learn?
Twenty yards out, Kyreah broke through the surface, moving fast. “Run, Mr. Nash.”
Call me Pleasant, I thought but didn’t voice. I struggled to my feet, tentatively putting weight on my injured leg. The leg danced with the pins and needles of being asleep. I backed up, half limping, half dragging my leg, looking toward Kyreah.
A dozen heads broke the surface behind her. I turned, searching for somewhere to hide. A lone palm tree on the beach was a scant dozen yards away. Fifty yards beyond the tree was a thicket of trees. Might as well have been a fifty miles. I limped toward the lone tree, but before I made two shuffling steps the invisible vise caught me again.
“Do not run, man animal,” boomed a voice in my head. The king.
My stomach lurched. It felt as if I had eaten bad oysters. Uselessly, I struggled. The invisible grip held me a few inches above the ground and turned me to face my captors. The king stood in the middle of the Water People, arm around Kyreah, not in a threatening way but as a father would hug a daughter. She smiled.
She had just yelled for me to run, now she embraced him? It didn’t seem right. Was this some trick of Kyreah’s? Maybe she was going along with her people, buying time for us to escape again.
“All is well,” Kyreah said.
Things didn’t seem well to me.
“Father owns his mind again. When I saw them approaching I feared for your safety, but Father explained they were searching for me so he could set things right again.”
I didn’t respond.
“I have explained to Father how Rotash had a spell on him, and you have broken it.”
“Then why does your father hold me captive?”
The king chuckled, which was disconcerting. You’d expect him to have a deep, throaty laugh but it came out as a series of high-pitched squeaks.
“We did not want you to run off before we rewarded you.” He nodded to the guard on his left and I fell forward, released from the trident’s grip.
I struggled to my feet. “Did you say reward?”
“Yes. My daughter tells me your eyes light up when talking of treasures and riches. I have, while under Rotash’s influence, amassed many trinkets and baubles. You are welcome to as much as you can carry.”
I don’t know if I’m misremembering this, but I swear the overcast skies opened up, the sun shone down upon me, and a chorus of angels sang an extended “ahhh.” I could carry quite a bit of treasure. One thing bothered me. I didn’t want Rotash to get blamed, no matter how despicable he seemed.
“We must wait five more hours for the treasure,” the king said. “It is in a secure place and can only be accessed twice a day.”
“Rotash was not the one who controlled you,” I said.
The king looked at me as if I had an octopus for a head. He removed his arm from Kyreah and started gesturing and squeaking. Kyreah responded in kind. They stopped, facing me.
“Mr. Nash,” Kyreah said. “How is it Father has his own mind now?”
“Rotash may be a bad, er, man, but the boy was the one controlling the king.”
“Trayo?”
“Yes.”
The king waved his arms and two guards disappeared underwater. He approached me, exposing his lower fish half in the shallow water.
You’d think I’d have got used to it, but with the bottom half submerged, these creatures were easy to think of as people. They weren’t though.
The king pointed at me, demanding an answer. “How did the boy influence me?”
“He wore a medallion,” I said. “Legend says the bearer can control other’s minds.”
“Where is this medallion now?”
I shrugged, resisting the urge to touch my pocket. The king turned and motioned to a guard. Another two guards sank from sight.
“I’d like to hear more about the treasure,” I said.
Kyreah shook her head at me. Apparently talking about the treasure needed to wait. Where was the treasure’s location? How could it be so secure even the king couldn’t access it but twice a day?
The first two guards returned with Rotash in front of them. It was nice to see someone besides me gripped by those tridents. They positioned Rotash in front of the king. Rotash’s tiny little eyes darted all around, reminding me of a trapped rat.
The king spoke to Rotash, clicking and snorting and gesturing. Rotash’s eyes widened and he then bowed. The king bowed back. The guards released Rotash, and he sank from sight.
Rotash’s high-pitched, whiny voice sounded in my head. “You will pay, man ape.”
I caught Kyreah’s eye and held my hands out in a “what happened?” gesture.
“Father apologized for accusing Rotash of treason and told him he was free to go. But since Rotash failed to protect father from Trayo, he has been banished from our people. Most likely he will return to the Indian Ocean Water People. Although, when they learn what happened, I doubt they will accept him.”
I still believed Rotash manipulated the king, using the boy to avoid the curse, but I kept my opinion to myself. Let them work it out. I had, in a way, rescued the maiden, restored the king’s mind, and now would be rewarded.
The second set of guards returned. They spoke with the king who then spun around and addressed me. “Neither Trayo’s remains nor the shark that attacked him has the medallion.”
I wished I hadn’t pocketed the relic. If they searched me I could kiss my reward goodbye. With the treasure, I could pay Rasputin for the expedition. I’d tell him the map was fake; Cleopatra’s Medallion is only legend. Giving Rasputin the medallion was a bad idea.
An animated exchange between Kyreah and the king occurred. Kyreah bowed and their discussion stopped.
“What?” I asked.
“I told Father we all have seen the medallion Trayo wore. He agreed, but noted you did not free him from Trayo. The shark did. I pleaded on your behalf, but he is firm. The treasure offer has been rescinded.”
The king and his men departed without even a wave goodbye.
No treasure? Why did I have to mention Rotash’s innocence? Me and my big mouth.
“Please, Kyreah. Can’t you do something?”
Kyreah’s tail propelled her to within inches of me. “Lie on your back.”
I squatted down, wincing at the pain, and sprawled back.
She came closer and leaned over my legs. Her hair brushed my good thigh sending an electric jolt up my leg.
What was she doing? I looked at the sky. “I, ah, meant is there something you can do about the treasure?”
“I cannot go against Father when he is in his right mind. This will hurt.”
Hurt?
She poked a purple flower into my leg wound. It felt like a hot coal. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming. The searing pain went on forever. Finally, it subsided to a throbbing ache. I hesitated, not wanting to move, worried the white-hot pain would return.
“The Piera blossom will mend your flesh,” Kyreah said. “Salt water will help keep your wound clean.”
She wrapped my leg with long, rust-colored kelp leaves.
Where did she get the medicine? Must have been why she left earlier.
“There you are, Mr. Nash. You will be sore for a few days, but your wound will heal.”
“Enough with the Mr. Nash, call me Pleasant.”
“I must go now. Your people are not far. Go down the beach and across the meadow and you will find them.”
I held out my hand to her and when she took it I pulled her close. She didn’t resist. I kissed her. She responded. I didn’t want the moment to stop, but she pushed me away.
She swam out into deeper water and turned back to me, smiling. “Farewell, Pleasant.” She sank from sight.
~
I gazed out across the water, lost in thought. There’s so much underwater we never see. When Kyreah did not return after several minutes, I struggled to my feet.
Walking across the beach, I put as little weight as possible on my injured leg. It felt much better with Kyreah’s poultice on it—I no longer wanted to scream in pain. I chuckled to myself. She had finally called me Pleasant. Small comfort now she was gone.
The beach ended after a hundred yards. I continued across a grassy field, keeping my eyes open for “my people” as Kyreah put it.
Were they the crew that had brought me here? I couldn’t be so lucky. By “my people” Kyreah probably meant other man animals.
Another fifteen minutes limping through the meadow and I saw men in the distance, along another beach. They saw me limping toward them and a shout went out. Two men came running. I recognized the red bandanna on the skinny man’s head. It was the crewman who spoke a tiny bit of English.
The men approached speaking Russian. I just nodded and let myself be pulled along. Red Bandanna noticed the bandage on my leg and spoke to the other man. They locked arms and motioned me to sit across their makeshift transport. I did, and they carried me toward the beach.
A small boat had been pulled up onto the beach. Our ship was anchored farther out in the deep water.
Among the men was Grisha. I gasped and the men carrying me let go, tumbling me onto the sand.
Grisha hurried over to me, a big smile across his mustached face. “You not dead.” He reached his beefy hand down to help me onto my feet. Once up, he slapped me on the back, nearly knocking me back down. He laughed. “Is good.”
“Yeah, Grisha, I suppose it is good.”
His eyes traveled to my wounded leg and back to my face. “You have treasure?”
I swayed my head back and forth. “No.”
The big grin fell from Grisha’s face. His brows furrowed and he pointed across the water, toward the ship. “You come.”
Grisha herded me onto the small boat and spoke Russian to the men. Red Bandana helped Grisha push the boat out and jumped aboard. The other men stayed on the beach. Red Bandana rowed.
I did not want to give the medallion to Grisha. He’d deliver it to Rasputin. I had seen first hand what the medallion could do. Nobody should have that power. Rasputin would be disappointed, sure, and I’d have to pay off my debt, but I was still young and something would turn up.
We reached the ship. A rope ladder dangled over its side.
“You go,” Grisha said.
I reached up, grabbed the rope ladder, and tried to climb, but pain shot through my leg each time I put weight on it. I wasn’t fast enough for Grisha. He put his hands on my butt and pushed me up.
I hauled myself over the deck rail and fell to the deck, panting.
Rasputin appeared, hovering over me, staring at me with his disconcerting eyes.
On the ship earlier I had thought I’d seen Grisha. As I drowned I saw Rasputin’s face but thought it only a vision. Why had Rasputin and Grisha kept their presence a secret?
Rasputin extended a hand, offering to help me to my feet. I accepted his help.
His dark eyes bored into mine. “You have relic?”
I wagged my head in the negative. “I’m lucky to have survived being swept overboard.”
I touched my pocket to verify the medallion was still there. Rasputin noticed my lapse. He spoke in Russian to his men.
Grisha grabbed one of my arms, Red Bandana grabbed the other. Rasputin stepped close to me, his haunting eyes inches from my own. He reached into my pocket and retrieved the medallion.
Rasputin held the medallion between both hands, up in the air, as if offering it to the gods. Then he placed it around his neck and immediately fell onto the ship’s deck, on hands and knees, growling like a rabid beast. He yipped and yapped. Drool slobbered down his beard. Then he lifted his head toward the sky and howled. Such a howl I had never heard from a human. It elicited an image of primal evil. He howled at the sky, the sun, I don’t know what. Then suddenly he stopped. He rose to his feet and brushed off his cloak and wiped dust from his knees.
The deckhands and Grisha stared at Rasputin.
Rasputin’s gaze caught me and my mind felt clouded, as though I had taken a strong drink. Dullness pervaded my thoughts. Behind the feeling was the imperative that I should jump from the ship and drown myself.
I couldn’t control myself. One part of my mind was distant, observing my actions and thinking “why are you doing this?” Another part focused on getting over the ship’s side rail.
The deck hands released me, I climbed onto the railing and jumped. In my mind, the fuzzy cloud obscured rational thought. I hit the water and sank. Underwater, I had a strong compulsion to suck water into my lungs.
One part of me watched my actions like a detached observer. Another part opened my mouth and breathed in the water.
~
Instead of water my lungs received air.
The Mermaid’s Kiss still worked.
The cloud in my mind lifted. Rasputin had finished with me.
I panted, sucking in the air from the water. I was alive. I breathed. But I didn’t know how much longer Kyreah’s saliva would be active. I swam to the surface, to the ship’s bow. My head broke through into fresh air.
I kept myself from gasping, lest the sound attract the attention of those above me. From my location I couldn’t see much, which meant Rasputin and his men couldn’t see me either. I could hear them, though. Not much help, since they spoke in Russian.
Two of the crew, Red Bandana and another one, went down the rope ladder to the dinghy. I moved around the tip of the bow so they couldn’t see me. They rowed the small boat back to the island. I snuck a glance. They were bringing the men back to the ship. That made sense. Rasputin had the medallion so he wanted to go home.
“Are you always in some mischief, Pleasant?”
There was no mistaking the musical lilt of the words in my head—Kyreah. I turned and her beauty made me gasp.
“I’m glad to see you,” I whispered.
She wrapped her arms around me, and firmly planted her lips on mine. We sank into the water, kissing. The ship overhead was soon forgotten.
I won’t go into the details of what happened. I don’t know if I could. The time we spent together underwater had a dreamlike, magical quality. I couldn’t tell you how long we were underwater. It seemed but a moment, yet somehow seems like a whole lifetime. At one point we were in another underwater cave with phosphorescent moss on the walls. I remember eating large, grape-like berries. Time blurred and small snatches of memory, like faded photographs, are all I have left.
Afterward, when we came back to the surface, the ship was gone. I scanned the horizon and couldn’t see it anywhere. The sun was low, and for a moment I believed it was sunset, but instead of the pinks and reds and violets of a sunset I saw the golden orange of a sunrise. I had spent the entire night underwater. Maybe I slept—I couldn’t remember—but I felt refreshed.
Now what would I do?
Kyreah must have seen a look on my face. “Why are you sad, Pleasant?”
“I’m not sad, really. I just … I don’t know. I’m relieved I don’t have to deal with those Russians, but now I am stranded here.”
“There is an island not too far from here with many man animals. Would you like me to take you there?”
“Yes. Please. That would be great.”
Then Rotash attacked.
~
I didn’t expect Rotash’s attack, but he had said he’d get even.
He was fifty yards from us and used a trident to pluck me from the water and squeeze. I tried screaming but couldn’t get any sound out. I couldn’t even breathe. I clenched my teeth, waiting for the sound of ribs cracking.
Below me Kyreah flew toward Rotash like a crossbow bolt, but she stopped short ten feet from him.
The invisible hand lessened its grip and I sucked in several deep breaths. I tried yelling at Kyreah, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. “Why’d you stop? Get him.”
“He warned me if I touch him he will dash your brains out on the rocks.”
“Rotash,” I said. “What do you want?”
He moved me closer. “Filthy ape. I want to watch a bloom of jellyfish slowly sting the life out of you. I want the medallion. I want Trayo back.”
I decided to bluff. “I’ll trade the medallion for my freedom.”
He released me. I splashed down and started treading water, looking around for Kyreah. She had disappeared.
Rotash came closer. “Give me the medallion.”
“I don’t have it with me. I hid it on the island.”
“Where?”
I pointed. “Over in the thicket of trees.”
“Get it.” He raised the trident. “Do not try anything or I will not be so gentle next time.”
I dog paddled toward the shore. After a few strokes Rotash zipped over to me, grabbed my upper arm. “Stupid ape man. I do not have time to wait while you flail your way.” He streaked toward the shore, dragging me along.
For a little guy he was quite strong.
When we got near the shore, he stopped, and released me long enough to put his tail through the loop on the trident. He held the trident’s handle against his chest, the tines pointed down, and floated out of the water. He grabbed my arm again and moved forward and up, pulling me out of the water with him.
I had no idea the trident could be used as a transportation device and allow them to float over land. He flew along, me dangling by my arm, my feet inches from the ground. He released me just before the trees. I fell, rolling forward with the momentum.
My plan had been to evade his trident’s grip in the thicket of trees. But now I no longer had the advantage on land. Maybe I could still get away if the trees became dense enough.
I moved deeper into the trees, pretending to examine the ground as I went, searching for some place I could escape. Some place he couldn’t follow.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“I’m looking for the rock marker where I left it,” I lied.
A vine, slick and wet like seaweed, slapped itself around my neck. Rotash held the vine’s other end. Being on a leash destroyed my last hope of escape.
“In case you decide to run,” he said.
I poked around the base of the closest tree. “I could have sworn I put the medallion here.”
“My patience is at an end,” Rotash said.
I talked fast. “I put it under a large rock at the base of a tree. It sure seems like it was this tree, but there’s no rock. It has to be close. Is there a rock next to that tree?” I pointed behind him.
He turned and I tried freeing the vine. I could get my fingers between my neck and vine, but couldn’t loosen it.
“Stupid ape man. You do not have it, do you?”
He didn’t wait for my response. He surged up into the sky, over the trees, pulling me into the air with him.
I dangled below him, forty feet in the air, vine around my neck. I had both hands around the vine, but it was still tight, and I was choking.
He moved toward the water. “Time to smash you against those rocks.”
My vision darkened around the edges. I was going to pass out before he had a chance to throw me against the rocks.
Then I was falling. I glanced up. Rotash looked surprised.
I didn’t hit the rocks. I stopped falling several feet above them. The vine slipped from my neck.
“Oh, Pleasant,” Kyreah’s voice appeared in my mind. “I feared I was too late.”
I looked around. Kyreah had brought the cavalry. Several of the King’s Patrol surrounded her. Two had tridents out. One held Rotash and another kept me from hitting the rocks.
Once again she saved me. At this point I didn’t care.
They moved me away from the rocks and released me. The King’s Patrol sank into the water pulling Rotash behind them.
“I don’t know how I can thank you,” I said.
“You do not have to. Father was glad to lend his patrol. I must go now. Father has forbade me to contact you again.”
“What about the other island?” I asked. “With the people?”
“I am sorry.”
“But I am stranded here.”
“I am sorry, Pleasant. I do have the insight you will be fine.” She winked. “Farewell.”
She disappeared underwater. I didn’t even get a farewell kiss.
~
I spent the next few days familiarizing myself with the tiny island. Coconuts and berries kept me from starving. A small pool of fresh water kept my thirst at bay. Countless hours were wasted attempting to light a fire, striking various rocks together, trying to get a spark. When that method failed I rubbed two sticks together to generate enough friction for a flame. It didn’t work.
On the third day while looking for shelter I found a small cave near the toes of the Devil’s Foot. The entrance was too small for me to get my shoulders through, but the cave appeared wider inside. So I spent several hours crudely digging at the entrance with a large, flat rock. The cave ended up being the entrance of a tunnel. I explored the tunnel, feeling my way along in the dark. It headed downward on a steep slope before leveling out and joining another tunnel. I continued along the new path, went around a corner and into a larger cavern.
A cavern filled with treasure.
The treasure Kyreah’s people hoarded.
There were gold coins and jewelry piled in heaps, diamonds and rubies and other precious gems, necklaces and rings and statues and goblets. The cave’s walls had the same luminescent moss as the caves Kyreah had taken me to. The light reflected off the treasure causing the entire cave to sparkle.
I looked around and laughed. The lower tunnel would be underwater at high tide. Thus accessible to Kyreah’s people twice a day for an hour or so, yet the treasure was accessible to a “man animal” at all times except during high tide.
There was so much treasure. More wealth than I could spend in ten lifetimes. I sank to my knees, feeling overwhelmed. I could be the richest man in the world.
But I would die the world’s richest man if I couldn’t get off the island.
I filled my pockets with gold coins and left the cave, careful to cover up the entrance behind me. My goal had changed. I needed to escape the island and then come back and collect the treasure. If I were rescued with such wealth my rescuers might take it from me.
Maybe I could attract a ship with a large fire on the beach. If I could finally build a fire. If a ship happened to be close. If they saw smoke and came to investigate.
A lot of ifs, but what else could I do?
Back on the beach I pondered how to build a fire. One thing was certain, once rescued I would learn how to build a fire. Never again would I be stranded without having such a basic survival skill.
I looked out across the water, thinking. Perhaps I should go examine the treasures more closely. Maybe something there would help me start a fire. It took a moment for me to realize what I was looking at far out on the horizon.
A ship.
If I could attract the ship’s attention I’d be rescued.
I grabbed two large palm fronds and waved them frantically in the air. I continued non-stop, waving them for ten minutes. Exhausted, I dropped the fronds to the sand. Every ounce of energy had been wrung from my arms.
The ship did seem closer. It now faced the island. With renewed energy I picked up the palm branches and waved them again. The ship turned away, moving across the horizon.
This wasn’t fair. So close to rescue, but no way to attract their attention. I watched the ship, squinting my eyes against the sun’s glare on the water.
Glare from the sun!
I dug a gold coin from my pocket and angled it in front of me, attempting to catch and reflect the sun’s rays. No good—the gold was too dull, I needed something shiny. My grandfather’s pocket watch. I reached into my inside vest pocket, half afraid the watch wouldn’t be there. It was.
The watch’s inside cover was polished silver. It reflected the sun perfectly. For the next several minutes I angled the watch back and forth, up and down, estimating the angle of the sun to the ship, hoping they’d see my signal and come to my rescue.
Finally, my hope was realized. The ship approached the island.
Slowly, the ship came nearer. I kept signaling until it anchored and men began rowing a boat toward the island.
There were four men in the boat. I met them in the shallow water.
“Thank God! Do you speak English?”
One man stood, frown on his face. “I am Captain Jerome. How did you end up here?”
“I was swept overboard on a storm several days ago and barely made it to this island. Been living on coconuts and berries ever since.”
The captain smiled. “Lucky I came along then.” His face turned serious. “Let me ask you. Have you ever seen a mermaid?”
My feet slid out from under me and I fell into the water. Scrambling back up, holding the side of the boat for support, I covered as best I could. “Sorry. Slippery rocks. A mermaid? I didn’t know they were real.”
“Oh yes,” he said. “They be real all right. For the last three days we have been chasing a mermaid. She seems to have led us to this island.”
~
When Pleasant Nash’s story was complete he threw back his ale, draining his mug one long drought.
Dr. Chambers spoke “Did you go back for the treasure?”
Pleasant grinned. “That’s a different tale. Let’s just say I didn’t get all the treasure.”
“What of the medallion?” Dr. Chambers asked.
Pleasant shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have heard that multiple attempts were made on Rasputin’s life. People just couldn’t kill him. They tried to poison him, yet he survived. He was shot in the back, but when the man who shot him turned away Rasputin lunged at him and killed the attacker. He was stabbed, but somehow lived. Finally, a group of men shot him multiple times, he went down but got back up, they clubbed him, beating him into submission, and wrapped him in a carpet and threw him in the river. They say he drowned, but I know what happened. Some creature, perhaps a shark, killed him. The curse of the medallion finally got him.”
~ The End ~
Author’s Note: Please forgive the liberties I have taken with how tides work in the Mediterranean. I did it in service to the story.