The radio is annoying me. I want to turn the volume down, but I’m too sleepy to ask somebody or make an attempt to wide awake and do it myself.
The voices are hushed and soft and make no sense:
“But why all this drama?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Seducing, kisses, sexy employer role play... I don’t mind, you know; I am always into good hot fuss, but I'll never understand why you concern yourself with one little human. Do you want to use her before our lovely neighbour? I just want to remind you that she’s still our friend,” a male voice chuckles. I can hear a suggestion of sarcasm.
“Aww, you are such a devoted friend! I’m so proud of you! Don’t worry. Well serve her fresh and almost untouched for our dear pelagic. I want to check something and have fun, of course. Coven meetings and orgies are only in December. I’m bored.”
“Stop speaking in riddles. What exactly do you want to check?”
“I thought you were smarter. Oh, well. The coin doesn’t make two rusalkas fall in love with each other. It connects them for protection, mutual hunting, in short: survival of species.”
“Rusalkas romanticize their coins; sing extremely razzmatazz songs about them. Once I was with a curvy...”
“They are morons like most creatures, and, fortunately, can’t fall in love. The coin is a link, not a red passion thread that connects souls. Principle remains the same as when some deepsea fish find each other, mate, and the male fish affixes to the female’s body forever, for its hard to find a partner where the vast depths are.”
“Well. That feels so not romantic. We need to give them a perfect idea to write a song about two unromantic fish: “Oooh, we are like two deepsea fish... Oooh, our love is doomed, and I’m sooo sad”, ” male voice is humming an annoying song.
“It’s strange, but our rusalka is too obsessed with a little human... And the strongest love potion didn’t work...” the woman’s voice is talking as if to herself. “Oh, here she is! The experiment bears fruits! She did feel when I broke their connection for a while.”
“Bad girl! Don’t tell me that you killed her,” he answers, clicking his tongue.
“Just a little bit and for the benefit of science and humanity; I’m not a monster, for the most part,” she giggles.
“Have you collected all samples?”
“Cover the tracks. We are leaving. Soon her sea princess and the court jesters will come to the rescue.”
***
I can hear a loud noise: as if a stampede of horses is clattering along the stone floor.
“She’s here! Marina!”
“Is she dead?” Sylvester asks in fear.
“Don’t be stupid. She’s breathing; can’t you hear... ahh, I forgot that you can’t,” a mocking reply is given.
I open my eyes with effort. I’m in the office of a beautiful woman, but she’s not here. I’m lying on the table (why am I lying on the table?), while Doris is bent over me; she’s gently holding my head.
“How do you feel? What has happened? Why are you here?”
“Too many questions at once,” I moan, trying to sit.
“Don’t sit! We must be sure that you are not hurt!” Doris is trying to push me down.
“I’m fine!” I am resisting and is able to sit and look around. Four of us have gathered again just like at the pond: the girl with pointy ears is investigating everything in sight; Sylvester and Doris are looking at me, waiting for the explanation.
“I received a call from the potential employer. I came here. I was asked questions, then she... then I fainted,” I almost mention the kiss, but looking at Doris I couldn’t say it aloud. The kiss was bad, but I was too weak to resist which is no compliment to me.
“We need to call the police. Is anything gone?” says Sylvester.
The mermaid (thank goodness, she missed the “she” mentioning) is slowly turning to my friend, “Are you a moron? What will you tell the police? That your friend was kidnapped by witches?” she’s looking at the she-elf. The girl is nodding to confirm Doris’s words.
“Witches, certainly, “cleaned” up their magic mess. I can’t say who they were or what clan they belong, for it was professionally made. But they can’t wash away the traces of witches’ aura.”
“Madness!” Syl is rubbing his temples.
“What if they come back?” I make a listless sound, that doesn’t resemble my normal voice.
Doris grips my hand, “Don’t worry; I’ll kill them if they come!”
Syl is rolling his eyes, “Let’s talk about killing somewhere else. I am curious about witches, but not so much morally prepared to meet them today. On THEIR territory!”
“Finally! Some reason out of you,” like some rolling wave Doris is carrying me away from the place.
***
“I can walk myself,” I tell her, while we are descending the stairs, though realizing that I physically can’t and don’t want to.
“I’m so sorry,” she seems to hold me even tighter. “It’s all my fault!”
I don’t answer, but wrap one hand around her neck and keep my nose towards her coat.
Outside is already dark: the roads are empty, most of the public places are closed, only some screaming neon banners are giving uncomfortable light against bare streets. How long was I sleeping?
The short haired girl outruns us and heads to the old oak tree between houses with semi-columns on their facades that were built in the style of classicism (my time with Syl was not wasted!).
“Give her to me,” the nameless girl is stretching her hands. Doris looks at me apologetically and passes me to her hands. The slim girl doesn’t seem to feel my weight at all.
“Hey!” I hate being so weak! I’m always weak!
“Stay still... please,” with these words the elf is rushing towards the tree trunk! A very solid tree trunk!
“What are you...
...doing?” I’m trembling watching an immense seascape. The sun is dazzling after the darkness of the night street.
I can’t take my eyes off the glittering surface. But the girl doesn’t let the special moment last, for she’s gingerly putting me on the white sand as if I’m her grandma’s favorite cutglass vase.
She’s putting her hand inside a huge palm tree and pulling Sylvester out by his arm. He blinks in the light, making a “visor” with his hand. His playing cool, but I know him too well to see that he’s as confused and scared as I am: the same haunted doe-eyed stare I saw when I first met him at school.
“Are you all right?” the young man places my “cabbage” coat on the nearest rock (it makes me smile: the boy is so practical! He didn’t forget it) and is putting his off too. I slowly start feeling the baking of the sun and sand.
“I’m fine! I’ve already told you,” it was not a lie: I was totally fine, maybe, a bit sleepy and tired, but ohhh how I hate this particular expression of compassion!
“Yeah! That’s why you are sitting on the ground, and people are moving you from place to place.”
“I don’t understand why you're complaining: you did nothing.”
Sylvester doesn’t reply. I demonstratively turn to the girls. Doris has just jumped out of the tree and immediately drops down on her knees next to me (to check the cutglass vase, probably...)
“I will go and spy out the land. Maybe find something to eat; or find someone in general...” he mutters awkwardly, watching us together. Doris looks at him with gratitude. The elf is already far away sitting on her sheepskin in the shade of a big boulder and watching the waves or maybe numerous tiny crabs that are running between the tide thrown seaweeds.
“I must tell you something, otherwise I will never bring myself to tell you the truth,” she pauses, bracing herself. “I was not fair with you. You deserve to know about me and things I did during my life,” she’s squeezing her kneecaps, her fingers are slightly trembling. “I’m not like humans, dryads or witches... I’m... Marina, everything that happened, it's my fault.”
Even in a cheap light coat and a simple vanilla-white shirt blouse that complements her dark skin Doris looks gorgeous. She doesn’t need cosmetics to make her lips look plump or her skin glow: there’s something untamed and paganly beautiful in her face and body. Her hair is emitting a light smell of a cold coniferous forest and the amazingly fresh air after the thunderstorm. I can't even hold a candle to her... Sometimes, I think that I was not created to build normal adult relations. That’s why Sylvester and I stick together: I’m permanently single; he’s permanently in non-permanent relations.
I can count every yellowish sparkle in her goldsand eyes: it’s your last chance: now or you’ll regret till the end of times!
I make a quick move forward pressing my lips against hers. The kiss is short, clumsy, and absolutely perfect. Maybe it’s too late for us; maybe she has already changed her mind about me, but I know for sure that I need it now. I need her now.
“I thought you were gone forever!” she gets a strand of hair out of my eyes. I have no idea where to put my hands wishing we were alone on the seashore.
Did they see us? Certainly not. The guys have already found something to amuse themselves: they are busy having an argument. Because of the loud sound of the sea lapping against the rocks, it’s hard to work out what they're saying to each other, but it looks like a passionate soap opera scene with dramatic gestures and “tiltingbacks” of the heads.
Sylvester is arguing with a girl? Impossible. Well... I can imagine Syl who is flirting with girls; who is bragging to girls; who is raining complements upon girls. If he were twelve, I would think that he’s head over heels in love with her.
“Why are we here?” I decide not to ask “how”; I don’t think the short explanation will satisfy me now.
“It’s the safest place. Only some proven creatures know about it, like Juni.”
“The elf girl?”
Doris chuckles, “A dryad.”
It reminds me about how we first met somewhere in astral: eminent waters, the band of white sand, palms, and the mermaid.
“A secret place?”
“Not a secret anymore if humans know about it. At least those mortals who are alive.”
“How long are we going to stay here?” I try not to show my excitement, being not ready to return to my gloomy days, gloomy apartment, gloomy life.
“We don’t know who these witches were. It could be just a coincidence, and some witch just decided to practice spells on you, or they took you for someone else and made up their minds to leave you untouched. Don’t be afraid I’ll protect you no matter what.”
“But why?”
“They may know where we live if it’s not a coincidence. I’m going to send my friends a message and ask them to check out the place you were kept and live,” she gulps and continues as if it was difficult to say. “Marina, our society is not supporting relationships between humans and creatures. It could be dangerous for you: this situation might be not the last one. And if you don’t want to be with me, I’ll understand.”
It was difficult to ask too, “I mean why you want to protect me. You barely know me, but you want to go against some evil witches, even kill them! Why? Just because a coin chose me?”
She is perplexed and silent. My heart is beating in my temples.
“The sun is frying us, Doris! Let’s move!” the dryad is standing several meters away from Sylvester who is killing time walking around the palm tree as if he’s going to reel off the Christmas tree.
“She’s right. There’s an old lighthouse on the opposite side of the island. There we could rest and eat,” she says, avoiding the answer to my question.
“To the lighthouse!” I answer sadly.
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