Free Rolling in the Deep by Mira Grant

other. If not all the members of the troupe took it as seriously as they should, well, Sunnie would take it seriously enough for all of them. That was her role within the troupe; that was why they had elected her leader and spokesperson for the year. To be honest, she was looking forward to the next restructure, when she could become as carefree and flippant as the rest of them, and someone else could take responsibility for a change.
    Jessica was circling at the edge of the group, breathing rapidly in and out through her nose as she prepared for a deep dive. She was hoping to beat her personal best of nineteen feet straight down before it was time to perform for the cameras. There was something about seeing a woman rise up out of the depths that could thaw the skepticism of even the most hardened heart. Once she could get down to twenty-five feet, she thought she’d be ready. Her hair and dorsal scales were dark enough to let her slide into position without being seen, and then? Magic.
    She looked down at the water, still breathing rapidly in and out. The sea floor was so far beneath them here that she didn’t need to worry about losing her way. All she needed to do was dive.
    And so she did.
    She cut through the first ten feet like a guided missile, slowing only when the water began to push back. Her lungs weren’t burning, and she still felt confident in her descent. She spread her arms, pulled herself deeper, and kept going.
    When she finally stopped, the depth meter in her watch indicated that she was twenty feet below the surface—almost there. The water was dim around her, turning to twilight in the absence of direct sunlight. She spared a split second to consider diving deeper, and then decided that pushing her luck would be a bad idea. There would be other days, and other dives, before it was important that she be able to perform for the cameras. It was time to go back up.
    It was easy to lose track of which way was up and which was down while floating twenty feet beneath the surface, especially with her tail providing neutral buoyancy and preventing her from being pulled in either direction. Jessica looked calmly around, finally identifying the glimmer of light that would lead her to the surface. Then, and only then, she began to swim toward it.
    On her wrist, unnoticed, the depth meter dropped from twenty feet to twenty-one, then twenty-three, then twenty-seven. Jessica continued swimming downward, chasing the light, unaware that she was moving in the wrong direction until her lungs began to burn and she realized, with a dull, sinking horror, that she should have reached the surface by now. She raised her hand, intending to check the depth.
    When the clawed, webbed hand lashed out of the dark beneath her and locked around her wrist, she didn’t think: she just screamed, the last of her air streaming soundlessly away in a trail of silver bubbles. The hand yanked downward, and Jessica went with it, down, down, down into the bathypelagic depths of the Pacific Ocean.
    If any of the remaining mermaids noticed the bubbles of her last breath breaking the surface, they dismissed them. There was no reason to think that Jessica was in distress—not until Sunnie called, “It’s time to go back,” and the others began to realize, slowly at first, and then with dawning horror, that they hadn’t seen Jessica since she made her dive.
    They all went down repeatedly, searching the water around the ship; a few of them even swam under the ship, ignoring safety protocols and common sense in favor of searching for their missing friend. They didn’t find her. For all intents and purposes, the ocean had simply opened its jaws and swallowed her whole.
     

     
    “Captain Seghers, we have a problem.”
    Jovanie turned away from her breakfast and toward the anxious-looking crewman standing in her cabin door. He was flushed and panting slightly; he had clearly run some distance to reach her. A small pang of fear blossomed in her