“These clothes are itchy,” Corallyn complained as the taxi cab drove off.
“The twins did their research and said that these are normal and fashionable garments,” Aazuria answered. “Are you alright, Elandria?”
The quiet girl nodded, playing with her braid as she surveyed the house they stood before. It was indeed massive, and there would surely be more than enough room for all three women inside. The house was also very close to the water, only steps away from the seashore.
“So how old is he again?” Corallyn asked.
“Nearly fifty,” Aazuria answered.
“Younger than I am,” Corallyn mused. “Maybe I’ll finally be treated with respect now that I won’t be the youngest person around.”
“I doubt it. You will be obliged to act as though you are nine years old.”
“Delightful,” Corallyn muttered, gazing down at her young body with scorn, “simply delightful.”
“Remember, he thinks that I am an innocent eighteen-year-old teenager,” Aazuria said, making a face. She turned to stare at the massive double doors and asked, “Are we ready for this?” When the other two women nodded, Aazuria marched forward and pressed the button which rang the doorbell.
Before too long a portly but energetic elderly man came to the door. “Come in, come in! Mr. Murphy told me that he was expecting some young ladies. It’s a pleasure to meet you girls! My, aren’t you all so beautiful!” The short, round man with even rounder glasses quickly ushered them into the house, and looked around in confusion on the porch. “Don’t you have any more bags?”
“No,” Aazuria answered, gesturing to the sacks that they held. “This is all.”
“I see, I see,” the old man mumbled, scratching his chin, “well, right this way!”
He bounced into a room with sofas and encouraged the girls to sit down. He rubbed his hands together in excitement. “It’s been so long since we had a lady in the house! Or a child! Or even a permanent resident! Mr. Murphy and his brother are gone out to sea most of the time. I do their cooking and housekeeping and laundry and whatnot, but it’s awful lonely here in this big house sometimes. My name is Mr. Fiskel, by the way. Where are my manners? What are your names?”
“I am Aazuria, and these are my sisters Elandria and Corallyn.”
“My goodness, what unusual names! Aazuria, Elandria, Corallyn. I couldn’t believe it when Mr. Murphy told me there were young ladies coming to stay with us! I’ll go and let him know you’re here and then cook something delicious up for lunch—do you girls have any preferences?”
“We are fond of seafood,” Aazuria said with a smile.
“Seafood! Seafood is my specialty,” the old man said happily. “I guarantee this lunch will be the freshest, yummiest seafood that you ever did taste!”
This was his claim as he arrogantly ambled away. Aazuria looked at her sisters, exchanging secretive smiles. Corallyn couldn’t conceal a small giggle.
“He’s cute,” Corallyn whispered. “Thank heavens we can eat real food again and don’t have to live on those awful things called hamburgers!”
Footsteps echoed on the white marbled floors of the imposing foyer, heralding the arrival of the man of the house. When Trevain Murphy entered the room, Corallyn’s judgmental eyes roamed over him languidly from head to foot. Elandria, however, turned to observe her sister’s reaction. She was surprised to see the subtle light warming Aazuria’s eyes and the creases forming around her smiling lips. She knew without a doubt that her sister was somehow enchanted by this man. She also knew that Aazuria had a way of seeing qualities in people that existed far beneath the surface.
Corallyn observed Trevain’s limp and his wavy grey hair. She compared his appearance to the descriptions she had heard from the twins, noting his broad, muscled shoulders. She watched the way he crossed the room, eyes fixed eagerly and reverentially on Aazuria, hands outstretched in warmest welcome.
Aazuria rose and placed her hands in his, pleasantly surprised by the sight of him. In the daylight, he looked much more robust than he had in the somber lighting of the club. Of course, that had also been immediately after he had lost a member of his crew and had been in a very distressed state.
“I am so glad you chose to accept my offer, Aazuria.” Trevain was beaming. His face seemed to have been cleanly shaven, revealing a sharp and angular jaw. “I promise you won’t lack for any convenience while you’re here.”
“I cannot thank you enough for your kindness,” Aazuria said, inclining her head slightly. She felt the urge to curtsey, but she reminded herself that this was not Europe, and the rules of conduct had changed since she had last been among land-dwellers. “I would like you to meet my sisters, Elandria and Corallyn.”
“Hello,” said the captain, smiling and approaching them. “I am Captain Trevain Murphy. I hope you will enjoy staying here. The house is huge and empty, as you can see, so I’m thrilled to have some company. You have already met Mr. Fiskel, the cook, but you might also run into my brother Callder once in a while. ”
Trevain extended his hand first to the younger of the girls. “Corallyn, is it? What a lovely name. What does it mean?”
“I was named after a marine organism,” Corallyn explained tersely. The harshness of her tone and the precision of her words did not suit a nine-year-old; she seemed determined to dislike Trevain. “Some varieties of coral are valued as precious gems and worn as jewelry.”
Trevain nodded, observing the young girl carefully before asking. “What grade are you in, sweetie?”
Corallyn bit her lip and looked tentatively at Aazuria for assistance. Aazuria moved to the girl’s side and stroked her back reassuringly, surprised at how edgy her youngest sister seemed.
“She has been homeschooled,” Aazuria quickly offered. “We all have been homeschooled. I can guarantee that her knowledge far exceeds the standard for whatever grade she should belong to.”
“Ah, I see,” Trevain remarked, feeling tension radiate off the young girl. He swallowed, hoping that it would ease away with time. He could not help but wonder what dreadfulness she had experienced to make her so distrustful of him. He understood why Aazuria had seemed protective of her sisters at first.
“Well, Corallyn,” he said lightly, “you can call me Uncle Trevain if you’d like. Let me know if there’s anything you ever have need of, and I’ll try my best to help out.”
“Thank you, Uncle Trevain,” Corallyn said politely, glancing at Aazuria with a look of amusement. Aazuria gave her a feeble smile and shrug which went unnoticed by the captain as he turned to address Elandria.
“Elandria, is it? A pleasure to meet you.” Trevain reached out to shake the woman’s hand. “You look so much like your sister.”
Twisting her braid nervously within both hands, Elandria looked up bashfully at Trevain. She peered at his outstretched appendage, too hesitant to accept the offer.
“Elandria does not speak,” Aazuria explained to him quietly. “She uses her hands.”
“Her hands?” he asked.
Releasing her braid, Elandria deftly moved her fingers into a few communicative formations before returning them to her hair.
Aazuria laughed softly before translating. “She says that she is honored to meet the man her sister spoke so highly of, and surprised that for once I was not exaggerating. She also says that she is humbled by your kindness in inviting us to stay with you.”
“You speak very well with your hands,” Trevain said with fascination as a slight blush touched his cheeks. He remembered the sign language he had seen Aazuria use at the club with her redheaded friend, and reasoned that Elandria must be the reason they knew how to speak that way. He thought to himself that if things worked out with the girls, and if they decided to stay for an extended period of time, he would learn sign language in order to better communicate with Elandria. That might impress Aazuria. He pushed the thought away as soon as it had come.
“Elandria. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. W
hat does it mean?” he asked.
Elandria hesitated before signing the words, looking to Aazuria for reassurance that it would not give away their secret.
“It means ‘she who lives by the sea,’” Aazuria translated with a smile.
“Ah, that’s suitable!” Trevain remarked with a laugh, gesturing through his windows at the stunning view they had of the ocean. “I’m sure Mr. Fiskel is working on lunch as we speak. I can show you girls up to some rooms so that you can choose yours and get settled in. I have to go to work not too long after lunch. I’ll probably be away for a few days, but please make yourselves at home and help yourselves to anything that you’d like.”
The girls rose to follow Trevain to the second floor of his house. As he ascended the staircase, his limp became more prominent.
Corallyn thought she might as well take advantage of her supposed youth by bluntly asking, “What happened to your leg, Uncle Trevain?”
“It was an unfortunate accident at sea,” he answered, turning to look at her. “I always point out my bad leg to the sailors in my crew when they’re doing something carelessly. It serves as a constant reminder and warning—safety first! You never know when your leg might get crushed or your arm might get chopped off on those dangerous fishing boats.”
While Corallyn could not resist a grin at his adorable fatherly lecture, Aazuria frowned, wondering why she felt that she could detect the smallest hint of a lie somewhere in his words. She continued to listen to his voice as he pointed out the available rooms to her sisters, indicating which ones had the best views and the largest closets, but she did not hear the tone again which she thought indicated untruth. Each room was painted in a different color, and Elandria gravitated toward the warm yellow. Corallyn preferred her namesake coral, and was exuberant when she found apricot-colored walls.
Trevain took Aazuria’s arm gently as the girls selected their rooms, guiding her down the hall to the room he thought was best suited to her.
“This one is my favorite,” he confessed as he opened the door. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but the walls are painted a rich dark red…”
When Aazuria saw the combination of burgundy walls and dark mahogany wood, she turned to Trevain in excitement. “It is charming!”
He smiled at her reaction, noticing that her accent was far thicker than the one in Corallyn’s voice. Perhaps their family had moved around? He gestured further down the hall. “That room on the left is mine, and the one on the right is Callder’s—that is, when he decides to stay over, and when he’s sober enough to make it up the stairs.”
Aazuria smiled, remembering Callder’s lamentable display at the club. Trevain grinned at her. “He’s still sound asleep there right now. Hung over. I should wake him up before lunch, although I dread it—he will be grouchy as hell. Maybe I’ll have Mr. Fiskel do it.”
“Poor Mr. Fiskel,” Aazuria said, following Trevain as he continued to guide her through the house.
“He’s an old friend of the family. He used to be a sailor on the boats back when my father was alive. When he was too old to fish, I decided to hire him on as my cook and butler.”
You are amazing, Aazuria thought to herself, but she decided against saying anything of the sort. Instead she just nodded in acknowledgement.
“There’s an indoor swimming pool and hot tub on the main floor,” he informed her. “Heated so you can get a bit of exercise even in the winter. There’s a solarium filled with exotic plant species. We also have a very large library, although you might find my taste in books eclectic. If you ever want to entertain, maybe invite some friends over like that redhead from the club, feel free to do so. Just let Mr. Fiskel know so he can prepare extra food.”
“That is thoughtful,” Aazuria said. She could not wait to invite the twins over and show them the magnificent quarters, proving to them that Captain Trevain Murphy really did honor his word. She still had difficulty believing her good fortune.
From downstairs, the sound of the doorbell was heard ringing through the house. Before a second passed, the doorbell was rung again fiercely several times, each loud clangor overlapping the echo of the previous peal.
“Crap,” Trevain whispered, growing pale, “not now.”
“What is the matter?” Aazuria asked, feeling the muscles in her stomach tighten in apprehension. The doorbell continued to sound wildly.
“Keep an eye on your sisters,” Trevain said with a frown. “Don’t let them come downstairs. This isn’t going to be pretty. I’ve been dreading this.”
Aazuria watched as an agitated Trevain limped downstairs. She rushed to the room where Corallyn and Elandria were discussing their new closets in sign language.
“There may be some kind of danger,” Aazuria said, ushering the girls behind her and closing the door until there was just a crack open.
“Danger?” Corallyn asked. “I knew this was too good to be true. I knew it.”
“Hush,” Aazuria said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small knife. She crouched by the door with the knife in a ready position and pressed her ear close to the crack to listen for any signs of trouble. The doorbell only stopped ringing when the door was opened, and promptly slammed shut.
“You need to explain to me exactly what the hell happened, Trevain!” came a hysterical voice. “I leave for a few days and all of you men forget how to tie your own goddamned shoes? What happened? Tell me! Start talking now!”
“Calm down…”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! Leo is dead! Dead! How can I be calm? How could you let this happen? Dammit, Trevain! Dammit!”
“Listen, Brynne…”
“You listen! What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve never been such a negligent asshole!”
Meanwhile, upstairs, Aazuria was grimacing. “It is just some annoying, irate female,” she whispered to her sisters angrily. “No real danger, but Trevain is too nice to stand up for himself. He is letting her rip him apart!”
“Then go do something about it,” Corallyn suggested.
“I do not wish to interfere,” Aazuria said, although she was sorely tempted to give that woman a piece of her mind. She tucked her knife back into her purse. “I hardly know him. It is not my place.”
From downstairs, Trevain’s voice filtered up into the room, his tone beseeching. “Please, Brynne, there was nothing that I could have done. Nothing that anyone could have done. We didn’t even know when…”
“You didn’t know!” the female voice almost screamed. “You didn’t know when a man fell overboard? When a man was injured? When a man was drowning? How could you not know? How could no one have seen or heard anything?”
“You know that I run my crew more carefully than any other captain who fishes the Bering Sea. I have never lost a man in my entire career before Leander. I can’t explain what happened out there, but we can’t allow it to get us overemotional or we risk making mistakes and letting it happen again.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I headed down to the docks today after doing some grocery shopping for our trip—I got some vegetables in addition to the instant mashed potatoes and chocolate because I was in such a great mood and felt like getting something healthy. But once I got to the Magician, everyone looked as though someone had died. Finally, I had to practically beat up Billy to find out that someone had actually died. Do you know what it’s like finding out that way? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew you’d react like this. I didn’t want to ruin your time in Florida.”
“Fuck Florida! I needed to know this. Dammit! This is your fault, Trevain. I hope you know that Leo’s death is on you. This is what you get for hiring such an incompetent greenhorn! No one else is to blame but you.”
There was a silence before Trevain wretchedly said, “I know.”
Aazuria resolutely raised herself to her feet at sound of the captain’s quiet acceptance. Elandria grabbed her wrist and held her fast with both hands, mouthing words t
o her since she could not use her hands: Aazuria! Do not be rash! However, the older girl slipped out of her grasp quickly.
“Stay here,” Aazuria commanded her sisters, before opening the door and quickly crossing the corridor to the staircase. Her modestly-heeled black shoes clinked on the oaken staircase as she descended, her posture erect and uncompromising. When Trevain and Brynne turned up to look at her, she was suddenly conscious of her new clothes. The twins had chosen a simple knee-length teal dress for her, believing it would accentuate her new dark coloring. She also wore her extremely long hair wrapped up tightly into a bun. She hoped this styling would have the added benefit of ensuring that she was taken seriously despite her young appearance.
“Forgive me for overhearing your bellowed accusations,” Aazuria began steadily, while still descending the stairs. “I did not mean to eavesdrop, but it is challenging to ignore such a deafening commotion.”
Brynne assessed the woman with astonishment. She had not expected anyone to be in the house other than Mr. Fiskel and Callder, and was immediately ashamed. She was even more embarrassed by the feminine appearance of the girl, and her elegant mannerisms. Brynne was suddenly conscious of her own ragged jeans, flannel shirt, and manly shouting.
“Who is she?” Brynne whispered angrily to Trevain.
“Be polite,” Trevain softly warned the brunette.
Brynne’s fists clenched in jealousy. “I’ll be as rude as I damn well please!”
“Captain Murphy does not deserve to be verbally attacked,” Aazuria stated calmly and evenly. “Do you not think he has suffered enough pain for his loss already? In fact, Captain Murphy has had to be strong for his brother and all of his crew who are equally distraught. They were all present at the tragedy, and they all share the burden of responsibility. Perhaps you should do something positive. Console the men; reassure and support them instead of tormenting them as though you are entitled and blameless just because you’re female.”
“How dare you!” Brynne shouted, swiveling to face the captain. “Now you’re living with some woman, Trevain? Is she the reason you weren’t paying attention on the ship and you let a man drown? Is your new bedmate keeping your head in the clouds and distracting you?”
Trevain recoiled and shouted. “Brynne! Jesus, woman. This is Aazuria. I only met her two nights ago, after Leo drowned.”
“Two nights ago! And she’s already living here? Did you have a Vegas-style wedding? How old is she, nineteen? God, Trevain! I thought you were a sensible man, but it looks like you’re having a midlife crisis! The granddaddy of all midlife crises!”
Aazuria approached Brynne until she was standing directly before her. “Excuse me ma’am, but you are mistaken in your obscene suppositions. When Trevain learned that my father recently died he extended his sympathy to me and my orphaned younger sisters in letting us stay in his home. I am sure you can see how offensive it is to hear the character of the man who has offered me such charity and compassion slighted so unjustly.”
Brynne was rendered silent for a long moment. She stared into the hard black eyes of the woman who reprimanded her until she had to look away. She looked at Trevain and saw that he was also displeased. “I’m sorry, Trevain. Sometimes I jump to conclusions. And you… sorry about your dad,” she said, trying to soften up, but failing to fully let go of her fury. “What did you say your name was?”
“I am Aazuria.”
“Aazur—? What the hell kind of a name is that?” Brynne spat.
“It is derived from the word ‘azure’ which is the color of… the ocean,” Aazuria said. She had briefly hesitated, almost having said that azure was the color of her eyes, but she quickly remembered that her eyes had changed with the increased melanin from her high sunlight exposure.
“The ocean? The ocean isn’t azure, girlfriend, it’s black, okay?” Brynne snapped. “Black as death. And sometimes, when someone dies in it, portions of it are red. Was there lots of blood in the water when Leo died, Captain?”
“Stop attacking him,” Aazuria said darkly. “Also, stop displaying your ignorance. The ocean is azure.”
“What do you know?” Brynne asked, advancing on Aazuria until they were almost nose-to-nose. The women were both tall, but Aazuria’s low high heels allowed her to tower over sneaker-wearing Brynne by two inches. “What does an adolescent girl like you know about the ocean?”
“Enough.” Aazuria’s voice was cold as ice, sending a chill through those around her. Her chin had lifted as she dissected the brunette with her glare. Hostility crackled in the air between them, and Aazuria felt so much bile stirring within her that she surprised herself with the force of the emotion. She had never felt so compelled to defend someone’s honor, and she almost hoped that Brynne would strike her so that she would have an excuse to strike back.
“You know nothing!” Brynne shouted. “You’re obviously a brainless spoiled brat—I am a grown woman who has lived and worked on the sea for over a decade.” Each word was laced with mounting resentment.
“A decade,” Aazuria repeated with a condescending smile. “Is that supposed to impress me? Poets have been calling the ocean azure for thousands of years.”
“Exactly. Romantic, dimwitted poets. I’m a fisherwoman. Don’t you dare come into my world and tell me what color the ocean is! I don’t care what the poets say. It’s black. Black as midnight. Black and awful!”
Aazuria realized that the woman was in pain from mourning—sympathy promptly replaced most of her anger. “You may feel that way right now, but you are only allowing passion to cloud your judgment. Look out the windows and you will see that the ocean is clearly azure.”
“Don’t you have some audacity!” Brynne hissed, stepping even closer to Aazuria. “I am intimately familiar with the water. I’m telling you now, what you see is a goddamned illusion! It looks blue and pretty to your untrained landlubber eyes, but I can see the truth. It’s actually hell that you’re looking at. Hell on earth!”
“Brynne Ambrose! Settle down,” Trevain demanded, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder and trying to firmly guide her away from Aazuria. At that moment, he would have preferred to be breaking apart two giant football players. Brynne seemed out for blood. “Give her some space.”
“No! She needs to be taught a thing or two,” Brynne barked, shrugging him off and turning back to her adversary.
“Hell on earth?” Aazuria repeated in a whisper. “It is closer to paradise. If only you knew…”
“I’m trying to teach you something, you vexing little virgin. You are a virgin, aren’t you?” Brynne snickered, much to Trevain’s frustration. “Learn this fast if you want to survive amongst us: the water is black. Do you understand me? Black. You had better change your name.”
Aazuria stared at her challenger, her eyes flashing with indignation and pity. “You are gravely mistaken. Your soul is of the earth—how could you know the sea?
“Who knows the color of the ocean better than me?” Brynne released a hysterical snicker. “In case you didn’t notice, girl, I’m a fucking fisherwoman. I know best.”
“I know better—because I am a fucking mermaid.”
Chapter 7: A Fiery Fisherwoman