PBGS 06

chapter 6

Rinka slipped into the small room beside the storage cabin, fighting the urge to scream, and instead opened her hand to stare down at the droplet of water resting there.

It looked… a little squashed.

―Child, why is your palm so hot?

“Because I panicked…! I mean, human hands are naturally warmer than seawater.”

―But merfolk hands aren’t hot. You’re a strange one.

Rinka kept her voice to a whisper, worried someone outside might overhear, and continued her conversation with the droplet.

Then, from inside the little bead of water that had been rolling around with each word, something round and blue popped out.

―Oh dear, how exhausting. Child, why won’t you accept me?

“Huh?”

The voice no longer echoed inside her head—it came through her ears.

What looked like long fish scales, or maybe butterfly wings, hung from near the ears, fluttering along with strands of bright blue hair.

And yet, the figure was no bigger than Rinka’s thumb.

“…What is this?”

A tiny girl, coral antlers sprouting from her head and wearing a seashell-shaped dress, stood boldly in Rinka’s palm. Around her, jewel-like bubbles popped one after another.

―What ‘this’? I am Pearl. Merfolk are supposed to undergo a Spirit Ceremony when they’re born, but you’ve never once set foot in the sea.

“Spirit Ceremony?”

―Yes, the Spirit Ceremony! Little mermaid, you really don’t know anything, do you?

Of course she didn’t—no one had ever taught her.

And there was no way she could perform something like a Spirit Ceremony here, on this ship. Privacy didn’t exist; people constantly knocked on doors for the smallest reason. Just hiding this spirit would be difficult enough.

Rinka pressed her forehead and sighed.

“There’s a lot to explain, but I can’t right now. The people on this ship don’t even know I’m a mermaid. And besides, that’s not what matters.”

―What? Then what does matter?

“That the waves aren’t moving. I can’t do anything about it myself.”

Pearl widened her round blue eyes and tilted her head, looking at her as though she’d just heard the strangest thing.

“Anyway, so right now—”

―Hey, child.

Pearl cut her off.

―Why would a mermaid not be able to stir the waves?

Her tiny, round face was full of confusion.

Not able to… stir the waves?

A mermaid?

Rinka’s own expression mirrored Pearl’s bewilderment.

So… does that mean mermaids can stir the waves?

Even if she was only half-blooded, the water spirits had clearly called her a “little mermaid.”

Didn’t that mean she should be able to do what mermaids do?

It couldn’t hurt to try. Determined not to let the chance slip by, Rinka gently cupped Pearl in her palm.

“How?”

―Oww, oww! You’ll crush me, child! Spirits can die, you know!

“Just teach me already!”

Grumbling about how young mermaids had no respect for their elders, Pearl sat down right in Rinka’s palm, water droplets bursting from her eyes each time her big round ones blinked.

―Child, you really don’t know a thing, do you?

“Then do you know why the ship has stopped?”

―Of course not. This isn’t the sea’s fault, but the wind’s. The ocean itself is fine.

“That’s a relief.”

Surely the sea monster her mother had warned about couldn’t control the wind too. If the sea was fine, then the cause lay elsewhere.

That thought eased her heart. Absentmindedly poking at the bubbles popping around Pearl, Rinka asked:

“What do you mean, mermaids can stir the waves?”

She realized how little she truly knew.

Her mother was human, and her father—the one who should have taught her these things—was already gone by the time she was a child.

―You really must have been born on land. If you’d lived in the sea, you couldn’t not know.

“I only entered the ocean for the first time a few weeks ago.”

―So that’s why you couldn’t absorb us… oh, heavens, I’ve never seen this happen before!

Pearl clasped her tiny arms over her head and shook it dramatically, then jabbed a finger at Rinka.

―It’s very important that you stir the waves now, isn’t it?

“Yes. We need to reach the island quickly.”

―Fine! Bow your head. There’s no time to teach you, so I’ll help.

Confused, Rinka leaned forward.

The bubbles popping around Pearl absorbed back into her body. Then, at her outstretched hand, a single droplet about the size of a thumbnail formed.

―Keep it safe while I sleep, child, so you don’t lose it! And when I wake, we’ll have to hold the Spirit Ceremony!

Her voice once more echoed inside Rinka’s head.

With a sharp cry, Pearl tossed the droplet at her.

“Ah!”

It bounced once, then sank straight into Rinka’s left eye.

For a moment, her eye burned as though it were on fire—then slowly cooled, down to a faint chill.

―Ohhh, I’ll die at this rate. Little mermaid, remember what you see now, and beg the sea! Ask the waters to flow, to move the way you wish!

“To… beg the sea?”

―Yes! Because that is something…

―…something only your kind can do.

Before she could finish, Pearl’s eyes closed and water wrapped around her body, transforming her into a pale blue seashell that fell softly into Rinka’s palm.

Ordinarily, Rinka would’ve been shocked.

But now—

“My goodness.”

Clutching the shell in one hand, she covered her right eye with the other.

Colors—swirling auras—filled the air.

Pearl had said nothing more, but Rinka understood.

The countless currents of energy filling the air had become visible to her.

She stared, mesmerized, then recalled Pearl’s words.

Ask the sea.

Ask it to move in the direction she desired.

Something only mermaids could do.

Rinka dashed out of the storage room, heading for the stern of the ship, where the pirates rarely ventured.

A soft green breeze seemed to guide her path.

At the very edge of the deserted stern, she gripped the railing and leaned out. The sea still barely stirred.

I see it.

Beneath the surface, blue currents shimmered gently, flowing with the water. Here and there, water spirits that resembled Pearl rested peacefully upon them.

So this was it.

Just as Pearl had said—she had to ask the sea.

She hadn’t been taught, but the moment she looked through her left eye, Rinka somehow knew what to do.

She reached out toward the sea.

Make waves.

Through her fingertips.

Slow and steady, to move the water.

To stir waves that would carry her where she wished to go.

Her senses sharpened.

Her hair brushed her cheek, a faint breeze tickled her lashes, heat bloomed across her face, and sunlight warmed the back of her hand.

Perhaps the world wasn’t moving for her—but the sea would.

At least the sea will.

Even without scales showing on her skin, even without drenching herself in saltwater—

She felt it to her very core: the ocean would move for her.

Please move.

Rinka whispered with her lips.

Carry me. Carry this ship along its path.

Her left eye burned hot again.

The iris, which she could not see herself, shifted from a sunset-red to a golden hue, as though the sun itself had been painted within.

“Move. Make waves for me. Take me—”

Take me deeper into the sea.

Her breath caught.

And at that instant, foam surged from the depths, shoving the stern—no, the entire ghost ship—forward.

Like a rising tide.

“It… it worked…”

It worked.

But before she could celebrate, something seized her by the scruff of her neck and hoisted her up.

Silver-thread hair, and eyes the color of the deep blue sea.

“Captain.”

“Rinka, are you out of your… Wait, your eye—”

Her eye?

The heat within it instantly cooled, fading back into its sunset hue the moment it met his icy blue gaze.

Unaware, Rinka gave a small laugh, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and murmured:

“The ship… I made it move…”

Before she could finish, her consciousness slipped away.

The captain adjusted his hold on her limp body and glanced at the foaming sea striking against the hull.