Free Song of the Deep by Brian Hastings

covered in what look like glowing rubies, each
one as big as the tomatoes from my garden. I follow the seahorse through the
entrance and into the cave. Lying on the ground, her body curled up around the
rubies, is the merrow. As I get closer, I realize that these aren’t rubies at
all—they’re eggs.
    The merrow seems to be sleeping. I swim closer, careful not to
wake her, and in the faint glow of light from the eggs I can see her face is
pale. There is a long gash in her tail as well as a red cloud in the water
above it. She must have been hurt by the sentinel back at Skeleton Reef.
    “I’m so sorry,” I say. “How can I help?” The seahorse just looks
from the merrow to me. He brought me here in hopes that I would know what to
do. I look at the merrow with a feeling of utter helplessness.
    Stay calm , I tell myself. You can do this .
    My father taught me how to bandage a wound, but I’ve only ever had
to do it once. Even then it was only a minor cut on his arm from a jagged piece
of scrap in the nets. I’ve never had to bandage anything serious before . . .
and besides, I have no bandages to work with! I’m going to have to find some
way to improvise.
    I swim out of the cave and find a cluster of tall swaying kelp stalks.
I take out my coral knife and cut each stalk at the base. Back in the cave, I
wrap the stalks tightly around the merrow’s wounded tail, tying the ends with a
square knot to keep them secure.
    It looks like the bleeding has stopped, but she is still pale and
weak. I’m going to have to find her something to eat.
    I swim along the seafloor, gently lifting up the colorful fan-like
corals and searching the sand underneath. In just a few minutes, I have
collected ten violet-shelled scallops. I bring them back to the merrow and open
the shells with the coral knife. The merrow’s eyes open halfway, but they are
distant and unfocused. I hold a scallop up to her lips and she takes a tiny bite.
    I keep feeding her, and, after a few minutes, she is able to sit
up. She looks at the ruby-colored eggs. I can tell she is counting them in her
head. There are thirty-three. I counted them twice already as I was feeding
her. I look at the eggs, each glowing faintly from within, and wonder if these
are the very last merrow eggs in all the sea.
    “Seagarden,” the merrow says, startling me as she speaks. I look
at her quizzically. “We call it the Seagarden,” she says, indicating the
clockwork seahorse and herself. “It lies in the shadow of a ridge in the sea
that protects it from the eyes of the Deeplight. It’s the last place in the sea
untouched by the Fomori sentinels.”
    “I, uh . . . I turned off the Deeplight,” I say, not wanting to
explain that I had smashed it. Her eyes widen, and she is quiet for a long
while.
    “Thank you,” she says at last. “That will help make the sea safe
again.” She looks toward the cave entrance, deep in thought.
    “What’s wrong?”
    I look out the cave entrance. High above the coral, I see the
sweeping light of a Fomori sentinel passing silently over us.
    “With the Deeplight off,” she whispers, “the sentinels have
altered their patrols. Eventually one
of them will find the Seagarden.” She sees my horrified expression. “It’s not
your fault. You did a very good thing.”
    I peer out of the cave. The sentinel is nowhere in sight. But I
know it’s just a matter of time before it returns.
    The merrow is still too weak to swim; and even if she could, I
know she would never leave her eggs if there was any danger nearby. I need to
figure out some way to stop the sentinels.
    “What are they looking for?” I ask the merrow.
    “Gold,” she says. “Minerals, gems . . . anything the Fomori found
valuable. The sentinels destroy anything in their path and dig up the seafloor
to mine what they want.” I think of the lifeless blue void I saw from the top
of the Deeplight. Then I think of my father stepping out of his boat with empty
fishing nets. How long