Marker; 1352 reads and 113 votes!

AN; Happy 4th of July! Enjoy this chapter!

The book was bound by a black leather cover that depicted a ship made out of bones with mermaids tied to each of its sterns, and the pages itself were bound with mermaid's hair, but I wasn't about to tell him that. On the cover, written in silver ink, was the words Syreni Ossa in sprawling cursive letters.

"How much do you know about mermaids? Because this has everything I know."

"Not a whole lot," I lied. "Mr. Walter's doesn't tell me much."

"Well before I share this with you, I want to know you're involvement with the mermaids are."

"I'm bait. Mr. Walters is using the mermaids to locate the sunken treasure, and he pays them by sacrificing boys to them? My job is to lure them."

"But why wouldn't you just run away or call the police?"

I didn't answer, I was thinking of a lie.

"They have your family or something don't they? That's why you were in the water the night? Isn't it?"

"Yeah..." I trailed off while the rest of the lie fell into place in my head.  "They dragged us off the boat and took them somewhere."

"Do you know where they are?" he asked

"No."

"I'm sorry you are going through that."

"I just want to go home," I replied. "I'm sorry about your dad."

"Thanks you," he relied and cleared his throat.  "So I'm going to give you the basics about mermaids. So you aren't completely defenseless," he said and cracked open the book. The pages were yellow and brittle I wondered how they didn't turn to dust in his hands.

I scooted away from him and the book a bit. I didn't feel comfortable being this close to it. It gave off an ominous aura.

"I'm going to have to end his affair with my aunt."

I turned towards him, my eyes wide and abruptly looked away from him out of habit, "Your aunt is seeing Mr. Walters romantically!?

Tim snorted, "I wouldn't necessarily call it romantic, more like I'll sleep with you if you buy my ugly paintings.  But keep this whole relationship on the down low, while I handle it. Her husband does not have a clue about what's going on. He is on an archeological dig in England currently, and is very hard to reach."

"That's why he doesn't want you killed!" I said excitedly, "I know how it is on his side! He's truly in love with your aunt! That's why he's trying to protect you!"

"You think he truly loves her  ?" he asked.

I bit my lip and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

"He must truly love her, because how else is he able to resist my spell?" But of course I couldn't say that to Tim.

"Because..." I began, thinking fast, "after living with that man for a month I know for a fact that it has to take something extraordinary for him to care for anything that is not himself or something that doesn't make him any money..." I trailed off.

"No, he's probably never going to make any money off of me of Aunt Laura," he answered my unasked question.

"Then for him to care even in a little about your life, he must care a lot about your aunt. So you must make sure they don't break up; that's your protection from him, your aunt."

Tim shook his head at me, "I going to make sure this affair or whatever ends soon.. I don't want my aunt in bed with that monster," he said fiercely, "Speaking of protection where's your mermaid scale?"he asked, and pointed  towards my neck.

"At home," I said and looked down at the pair of brown leather sandals I had slipped onto my feet.

"A mermaid's scale is your shroud. It will protect you from those alluring eyes that will drag your soul from your body and your body into the depths of the sea..." I looked up to see that Tim had his eyes glued to the page and he was running his finger along its yellowed and torn surface while he read from it, "James Arren, Nov 3, 1501. In other words, it keeps them from hypnotizing you," he told me.

I looked up at him, "I don't need it, a mermaid's spell works only if the person they are trying to spell is attracted to them. And I'm not attracted to girls," I lied.

"They're not just mermaids, there are mermen also, but it seems, from what I've read, that they don't come to shore as much as the girls. But still wear it just in case. But  how do you know that?"

"You aren't exposed to creatures like this without learning a little about them," I explained, "and if mermaids are more common, shouldn't you wear the scale instead of me? I don't see you wearing one."

"I know other ways to protect myself," he said. "Like not looking into there eyes.

I widened my eyes; I was sure that he was going to tell me that he had another on and he was wearing it right now "So do you mean that the one you gave me was your only one, beside the one for your sister ?"

Tim shook his head, "There were only two and Sarah has the other one. Sarah is my little sister; I think you saw her with me that day at the old dock. But I don't have one for myself to wear."

"Yeah I remember," I said, recalling the little blonde girl that I had seen peering down at us when I had first encountered Tim on the beach, "But you really should wear it instead of me."

"No, you're in more danger than me, if you are forced to have direct contact with them," he insisted, "Just promise me you'll wear it!"

I didn't answer him. I wondered how I was going to get out of wearing it.  I wasn't sure I could bear having it pressed up against my flesh all day. Wearing it was equivalent to putting someone's dead skin over my own. But at least he was somewhat safe without the scale until I convinced him to take it back. He could resist the pull of the magic, which meant he held true love for someone in his heart.

I also wondered who he loved so unconditionally that he could resist my magic. He was obviously not affected at all by my gaze since he had looked into my eyes some more today without a scale on and nothing had happened.

"What's the next thing?" I asked, hoping that changing the topic would get us off the dreadful topic of me possibly having to wear that disgusting thing around my neck.

Tim turned the pages a couple of times, "Their form is fluid, like the waters that they emerge from. It bends and shifts and they can appear in the form of man. However, they must resort back to their vixen tailed visage when the sea touches their skin," Tim tapped his finger on the page of the book, "This is how I knew you weren't one of them. When I saw you go into the ocean and you were still human. Although, I did think you were one of them at first."

"You thought I was one of them!?" I asked alarmed.

He gave me a sheepish smile, "It wasn't by chance that I was at that dock that evening. I was setting up a camera to so I can monitor that area. I that mermaid come to shore in the exact spot you encountered your mermaid at."

"You were the first person I saw go down there today. And when I saw you, I thought that you might be one of them because..." he trailed off and glanced over at me and quickly looked away. "Since you were unnaturally beautiful," he said in a quiet voice before he raised it back to the level he had been talking in, "But when I saw you go into the water I knew you were human, then Sarah needed help with her fishing rod, and when I came back that mermaid was there... Hey what were you doing down there anyways?" he asked.

I fumbled quickly in my mind for a fake explanation before deciding to try to stick to the truth as much of the truth this time. "Mr. Walters made me go there to fish, and when I did, she just came from the water and grabbed me."

"Why would he do that? Do you think that you are in more danger?" he asked.

"I'm constantly in danger, but I can't run or the mermaids will hurt my family. Me going down there was a punishment for me not doing something he asked of me," I answered, and right at that moment my stomach growled, and I winced at a new stabbing pain against my stomach. That third fish hadn't mattered this morning. "I need to go," I said quickly and stood.

Tim stood with me, "But-" he began.

" I just need to go, it's late," I said and climbed down the steps.

"Does it have something to do with Mr. Walters?" he asked and stood with the book in his hands.

"Kind of," I called over my shoulder, "Bye I'll meet you here tomorrow around six if that's okay," I said and began to walk away quickly.

"Wait... here wouldn't be a good place..."

That made me stop and turn around.

"I'll show you a place we can meet." He said and climbed down the steps and began to walk in the opposite direction from me, but not before he motioned for me to come along.

I followed behind him, and we soon came to a steep path that snaked its way up to an even higher cliff than the one his own house was perched.

The wind had begun to pick up, and it grabbed handfuls of sand and flung them into the air. Tiny grains filled my mouth and made its way into my eyes I so that I had to rub it out of it every few seconds. I looked out towards the sea and saw that rain clouds had begun to roll in.

Tim stood at the base of a well-worn path and pointed upwards. I turned my head upwards and squinted. I could just make out a pointed tip of a white structure. I vaguely recognized it, and I also vaguely remember it being built.

"Up there's a church that's been marked unsafe due to cliff erosion, just meet me up there tomorrow around the same time as today if you can. Despite its status, it's relatively safe and very private. Well, safe as a building that is destined to topple into the sea can be. But when you come, try and stay away from the front of the house. My aunt is home a lot at this time. We wouldn't want to see you and mention it to Mr. Walter," he explained. I nodded my head.

"Okay," I agreed and began to move away from the path and towards the direction of the house.

"Hey!" Tim called out after me, "Just be careful and make sure you're here tomorrow," he called after me.

"Okay!" I called back.

The sky had open up before I reached my purple prison and I was utterly drenched before I arrived at the white door and stepped inside the old house. I looked up surprised to see Mr. Walter waiting at the door for me dressed in a yellow raincoat with a large fishbowl in his hand with two fish in it, "He held the bowl out to me."

"I'll have to see about getting you a phone. Where were you?" he asked.

"I was taking a walk on the beach, and got caught in the storm."

There was another stabbing pain in my gut, and I quickly reached inside and grabbed one of the fish. It squirmed and thrashed in my hands, and I brought it to my mouth and quickly ate it before starting on the next one.

"Your father wants to meet with you about your continued defiance," Mr. Walters said.

I almost choked on the fish in my mouth, "What!?" I asked, and the glass bowl was holding in my hands fell to the ground and shattered into a million pieces.

" I'll have to call Tom to come to clean that up later," Mr. Walters said and eyed the broken glass at our feet. Come on; we're meeting at the cave." He picked up a yellow raincoat that had been laid out on the steps, careful to avoid the glass. He tossed the coat to me which I caught. I slipped it on and followed him out into the rain in sort of a daze.

We climbed into the car that was parked in the driveway, me in the passenger seat and him in the driver's side, and we drove into the blinding rain.

We pulled up to a small dock where serval small boats were tied to. They bobbed violently in the choppy stormwater. Mr. Walters led me to one that was white with two red stripes running across its sides.

He climbed inside and took out a key from his raincoat and inserted into the boat. The motor of the boat roared to life, while I looked on. He held out his hand to me and helped me into the boat. Once he had done this, he untied the boat and turned it towards the sea, and we drove off.

The sea rocked the small vessel violently, but Mr. Walters did not seem to be phased by this while he navigated the choppy waters. He steered the boat to a set of cliffs that loomed over us like big dark giants until we came to a big gaping hole in their sides. He drove the boat through it and into a sea cave. Once inside, the water gradually calmed and became even stiller the further we went into the cave and further into the darkness.

Mr. Walter silenced the boat, and I heard him rummage around the small interior of the vessel, then the rummaging stopped, and it was silent again.

"Sing Marina," his voice commanded from the inky blackness and echoed off the high stone walls.

I obliged and opened my mouth and let the song of the sea flow through me. All at once, the entire cave lit up with a blue light that came from the water below us. Then came a rumbling sound and a stone doorway door rose from the glowing blue water. Water dripped off it ancient carved surface which depicted a language that did not belong to man, nor merman, but the creators of magic themselves. I glanced over at Mr. Walter's and saw that he had wax stuffed into his ears.

I stopped singing, and the glow in the water slowly faded away but not before Mr. Walter clicked on a flashlight and shone it on the ancient stone door and stepped out of the boat and into water that came up to his knees.

I jumped out of the boat my eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light before I joined Mr. Walters in the water and together we wadded towards the stone door.