FLOOD

Bad News and Sea Food

For a moment I had the sinking sensation of dread. Were the blue creatures flesh-eaters, like the mermaids? Was this all an elaborate trap, and Eli and I were about to become the main course? But Aegir began to lead me through the tables, towards a long table at the end, set sideways across the room. The head table.

            Safe to assume we were actually eating dinner, and not doomed to be dinner. I checked behind me again, relieved to see Eli following. The mermaids were still trailing us though, and now Cassa had joined them. She and the other red-headed mermaid were side by side, and I was pretty sure they had to be sisters. They had the same sloping cheekbones and pale skin, and the same wide black eyes and sinister smile. Apparently evil ran in the family. Or perhaps it was just a mermaid thing.

            Aegir gestured for us to seat ourselves, which we did, after some hesitation. The chair were a little different than I’d expected, little more than stools, but once we were seated it made sense. There was little need to drape your arms over anything, or lean back and relax, when your body was already mostly floating.

            Everyone at the tables had resumed talking and laughing, and thankfully nobody was really staring at us anymore. Some sort of thick, honey-coloured ale was being passed around, being poured out of a narrow glass jug into wooden cups. The process was strange, since the liquid would tend to float away if it wasn’t done correctly. It was almost injected into the cups, the servers would put the long glass spout into the cup and pump the handle. Then the owner of the cup would put their mouth on the rim and drink quickly.

            I watched as the process was repeated with King Aegir, but when the server, a blue-skinned woman clad in a tight white shift, lifted the glass jar over my cup, I shook my head.

            “Thank you, but I’ll pass.” I glanced quickly over at Aegir, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. In some kingdoms it was the ultimate insult to refuse to drink with someone, but I needed my wits about me. “My apologies, it has been a long journey and I’m afraid my stomach isn’t sound at the moment.”

            Aegir nodded sympathetically. “When is the last time you ate, child. A real meal?”

            My stomach churned at the thought. It felt almost hollow. When was the last time I ate a real dinner, the kind we served in Jotunheim? I still remembered the last meal I had there in great detail: Roast duck and sweet honey bread with gravy. The servants didn’t exactly feast at the palace, but we never went hungry, and the food was always hot and delicious. The king and queen hadn’t held with feeding servants table scraps. We had our own cook who made meals especially for us. I hadn’t had a real meal since I’d been taken. I didn’t know how long ago that was.

            “Not…in a little while.” That made me think about Eli, who had been hiding from his grandfather for far longer than I’d been prisoner. How long had it been since he’d had a meal? Probably ages.

            I vowed to make sure that Aegir kept his word about sending food along with us. Eli was probably every bit as hungry as I was, perhaps more. It was hardly fair that he didn’t get to eat when everyone else did, though I could see the wisdom in keeping the mask on, obviously.

            The servants brought the food out, heaping the tables high with platters of oysters and crab. There were a few plates of white and pink meat, probably fish. And a giant bowl of what looked like seaweed in the center of the table.

            Eli looked a little green as the platters continued coming, and I found myself wondering if maybe he didn’t like sea food. If that was the case, he was in trouble, since I was fairly certain that’s what they’d be sending with us when we left.

            There didn’t seem to be any waiting, the blue creatures at the mermaids set on the platters immediately, grabbing handfuls and shoving them into their mouths. There were no plates or forks, and certainly no manners.

            Beside me, King Aesgir bellowed a laugh, making me jump. “Not much call for cutlery down under the sea, child! Make sure you get your fill.” He nudged me so hard I nearly tipped over.

            I hesitated, but he kept looking at me, so I leaned forward and grabbed a handful of the green seaweed stuff out of the bowl in front of me, tentatively nibbling on it. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste slimy, like I’d expected, it had a sweet, tangy taste to it, something spiced maybe. It was actually good.

            “You look surprised.” King Aegir smiled. “I think you’ll find most of the food to your liking, the Jotun pallet isn’t too much different than mine. I don’t allow anything here that wouldn’t pass in the finest halls of the gods. In fact, occasionally some of them will visit me, we have grand banquets.” He gestured at the huge room. “Of course, they insist on fanfare and performers and manners and all of that rubbish.” He brought his fists down on the table, and on the other side of him I saw Eli jump. “Bah! Gods are the worst of fools sometimes.”

            “I admit, I would not know.” I finished the seaweed and debated taking more. “You’re the first one I’ve come across.”
            “You do not come across us unless we wish you to,” King Aegir said. “When you reached out to me, I was curious. I’ve never met a water Jotun before.”

            I blinked at him. “I didn’t…I don’t think there are any. I mean….aside from me.”

            “Perhaps not in your time, but there have been some in the past. A fluke of nature, an act of mutation perhaps. But there have been at least two I knew of. Both long dead now.”

            I bit my lip so hard it hurt. Could humans have been experimenting on Jotuns for longer than I’d imagined? No, Aegir had to be right, it was a mutation or something, like what Eli had told me about his father’s body turning on itself. It was impossible for humans to have been messing with our genetics for so long without us noticing. We were not so blind as all that.

            Still…

            “You don’t know any more about them?” I asked. “You never met them?”

            “Of course I met them,” Aegir said. “They were sons and daughters of the sea, I make it my business to meet people whom the water calls to.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “But these two did not last long.”

            My gut was suddenly churning. “What do you mean…they didn’t last long? What does that mean?” My voice climbed higher. “They died?”
            Aegir nodded, his face sad. “Alas, I am afraid so. My time with them was short, the woman, she didn’t last long enough for me to even talk to her.”

            I leaned forward, urgency making my voice short and clipped. “What happened? Tell me exactly.”

            The king’s eyes glittered. “They were both drawn to the sea, I called them both to speak with me. The man was over fifty years ago, he came to me and stayed for a few weeks, he left, and I only had news of his death much later.”
            “How much later?”
            “A year I believe. Not longer.”

            “And the woman?”
            “As I said, she didn’t make it to the sea. The poor woman tried to make the journey, but she was too weak. I felt terrible for weeks afterwords, but that was nearly a hundred years ago. Now I believe that she was already dying. She passed on in my arms, and I believe she was glad of it. Her eyes…” King Aegir’s own eyes looked distant as he remembered. “They were so tired.”

            I was riveted by his story, fingers clutching the table so hard they were white. “Tell me how she died. How they died.”

            His face was grave. “They…gave in to the water. To the water in their own bodies. It became too much.”

            “They drowned?” I whispered, and I found I could imagine it. The water creeping into my lungs, my body betraying me and drowning me, rising up into my throat to choke me. The idea was chilling.