Starfinder

THE BLACK HERON

SERANA RETURNED TO HER ROCK the next day, happy to be alone once again. She was worried about Raphael but not too worried; he would find his way back to the lagoon, she was sure. And they had done the right thing, helping the human children. Serana was sure of that, too. She reclined lazily on her rock, her tail gently swishing the water, and closed her eyes against the hot sun. The warmth felt good on her skin and scales. Her family’s waters extended only a few miles, but they were wonderfully quiet waters, and except for Raphael Ciroyan no other humans had ever disturbed them until the children arrived.

Forget them, Serana told herself.

It wasn’t helpful to think about them. Thoughts like that could only bring trouble. And it was such a beautiful day…

Serana wasn’t like her sisters, who preferred the deep waters of their caves and never went exploring. They were musical, while she was quiet. They were sound, but she was dreamy. Someday, she would even explore the sunken forest itself.

“Someday,” she vowed softly.

A group of egrets floated nearby, picking at insects with their long beaks. Serana watched them with mild interest, until she noticed another bird near them, wading close to shore. Her lips pursed with surprise. Slowly, silently, she slid down the rock into the water.

The black heron was the first she’d seen all season. A rare bird for Shelian waters, they were omens of good fortune— particularly to the first maid who saw one. Serana moved toward the creature, her finned tail turning slowly, propelling her forward. Sharklike, her eyes just above the surface, she watched the bird track the marshy shore. Black herons were easily startled, she knew, and impossible to catch. Her sister Danre had tried to catch one once, bounding after it like a seal and coming home with her hair in tangles. Serana didn’t want to catch it, though. All she wanted was a really close look. Close, so that she could remember it.

But it was easy to get too close. In a sudden, feathery splash, the heron leaped and flew over Serana’s head.

“Oh, wait!” she cried, darting up from the water and watching the heron flap down on the other side of the lagoon, where it floated near a shallow tributary filled with cattails. Determined, Serana swam for it, pushing swiftly through the emerald water. The sandy bottom of the lagoon brushed her belly. When she peeked up her head, the heron was just a few yards away.

“Beautiful bird,” she crooned. “Look at you—a treasure.”

The bird ignored her, as if it knew a mermaid could never catch a heron. Floating away, it followed the narrow rivulet into the grass and disappeared. Serana smiled, suddenly enjoying the chase. The powerful muscles of her tail could propel her easily in the shallow waters. Arms outstretched, she swam after the heron, pushing aside the reeds to reveal the long, thin waterway snaking through the forest.

“Where are you?” she asked sweetly. “Just let Serana see you.”

She spied the trees as she swam, watching them for movement. The water continued to get more shallow, forcing her to use her arms more.

“Treasure?” she called.

She went a few more yards, but all she saw were another pair of egrets. Dragonflies buzzed through the reeds. The sun burning her naked skin, Serana decided to turn back.

“Looking for this?”

Serena spun at the voice. A figure stood in the stream, its boots covered in mud and bits of grass, its body concealed within a dark, dragging cloak. A shadowy hood hid its unseen face. Serana froze, amazed and terrified. Despite its shape, the thing wasn’t human. It held the heron in its bone-white hands, spidery fingers clutched around the bird’s neck.

Serana stared at the thing. She had never seen one before, but knew what it was. She wanted to flee, but the figure blocked her way. She sank as far as she could into the water, exposed and vulnerable.

“It’s good luck to catch a black heron,” said the thing, its voice sugary sweet. “Or should I just eat it? It looks delicious!”

The appalling question sickened Serana. “Let it go. Please….”

She could sense the creature’s smile beneath its inky hood. Invisible eyes moved over Serana covetously. “Mermaid, mermaid, with hair of grass,” the creature sang. “Mermaid, mermaid, sad little lass.”

The voice chilled Serana. A woman’s voice?

“Silly song!” it crowed. “From a place I once knew. Why do I remember it?” It paused, cocking its cowled head. “Your hair isn’t grass.”

It watched Serana, the dying heron completely forgotten. Serana knew it hadn’t come just for the bird. Why did it stare so?

“Are you lost?” she asked, trying not to sound afraid. “Maybe I can help you.”

“Yesss,” replied the figure, drawing out the word like the hiss of a snake. “You can help me, child. We have heard a rumor of humans here.” It lifted its head, sniffing deeply in a great inhalation, revealing hints of its hideous face. “We smell them!”

“Humans?” gasped Serana. “No, not here,” she lied. “Not ever here…”

The thing splashed forward, frightening her. “They come! Have you seen them?”

“No,” said Serana, clasping her hands to her breast. “Never a human!”

The figure mocked her alarm. “Oh!” it mimicked, laughing again. “Why are you afraid? The loyal should never be afraid. Are you loyal to the Skylords, child?”

“Yes, always,” said Serana. “But we are quiet maids here. There’s never trouble here, no reason for you to come.”

“Quiet maids,” the thing repeated. “Pretty maids.”

It came closer still, bending down to look at Serana, its breath thick. Its features were slight, womanly. With a jerk of its wrist it killed the half-dead heron, then extended it out toward Serana.

“A gift, pretty one.”

Tamping down her revulsion, Serana reached out her shaking hand, refusing to look directly at the creature. Instead she looked at the silver chain around its waist, the stout, unbreakable symbol of its bondage. The cold brush of its fingers against her own shocked Serana.

“Will you eat it?”

Serana shook her head. Again the thing laughed.

“What do mermaids eat?” it asked. “Seaweed and cockles!” It stood, clapping loudly. “Seaweed and cockles and hair of grass! Sirens who make men breathe their last!”

At last it turned to go, singing its horrible song as it left her. For a long time Serana was unable to move. She held the dead bird—her beautiful heron. The touch of the creature had sickened her.

But she was alive. Even after lying to the creature. Now, Serana knew, she had to flee.

Dropping the heron, she raced from the shallows toward her green lagoon, diving for the deep, deep waters of home.