Nikolas and Company: The Merman and The Moon Forgotten by Kevin McGill Read Free Book Online

voice trailed off for a moment. He
snapped to attention. “Reinforce our fortress and alert the others.
Do not delay, Captain Jonn. Our very lives might come down to
minut—”
    A mermaid’s scream rang. Several other
Merrows ran to the chamber’s outer edge.
    “Dear Mon!” Lir was fixed on something
behind Yeri.
    Yeri spun around. Instead of Lir’s
brother and sister-in-law adjusting themselves into velles, some
gelatinous substance shrouded in clothing lay in clumps at the foot
of the stagecoach. The substance looked like skin, devoid of all
its innards.
    “Brother!” Lir said quietly. “Yeri
cannot see this yet, not until he takes the oath. Get him to the
main chamber, now!”
    Yeri tried to get a better look at the
second stagecoach, but Captain Jonn spun him away by the
shoulder.
     
    The Duke’s chamber wasn’t a chamber at
all, but a pool. Yeri stood on the only dry surface in the room—a
whale bone bridge spanning the breadth of the pool. He couldn’t
keep his eyes away from the strange sea creatures stirring
underneath his feet. They were a bit monstrous, a bit mysterious,
and altogether fascinating.
    A pair of mermaids broke through the
surface and grabbed two silver cords. Like a harpist’s gentle
stroke, they pulled the cords methodically until a platform emerged
carrying two ornate thrones; Lir and Nia were the
occupants.
    “I cannot leave you at this hour.”
Nia’s hand interlaced with Lir’s. “The headaches will
pass.”
    “What is all this business?” Yeri
called out. “As senior driver of Fungman, Zedock and Josiah, I
demand an explanation this very moment.”
    “If we were to tell you,” said Lir,
“you would be put under the strictest of oaths, one that would
require your very life.”
    “Well, then,” Yeri’s tone shifted from
demand to farewell. “I will be on my way. Very sad you’ve run into
trouble, but it’s got nothing to do with me and my horses. Good
day, your Grace and . . . er, your Grace-ness.”
    Pain, deep and bottomless, filled Nia’s
eyes. “Please, Yeri Willrow. You are the Merrow’s only means of
salvation. Our enemies mean to exploit our weakness and will do so
if none come to our aid.”
    “So . . . I, well—” Yeri’s heart turned
doughy. He never could manage himself around a beautiful woman,
even the half-aquatic sort. “You have bits of treasure tucked here
and there? As the old tavern toads tell it, anyway.”
    “Yes.” Nia’s hand glided along the
silicon armrest. “It is about the treasure; it’s always about the
treasure. You are familiar with sulmare? The most precious metal of
the brother worlds? Merrows have been endowed with the gift of
sulmare-making.”
    Nia rubbed her fingers, giving the
universal sign for money. Three sulmares clinked into her open
palm. She flung them at Yeri’s feet.
    “I’ll be . . .” Yeri held up the
sulmare. They felt rough and smooth, heavy and light, all at the
same time. These three pieces would feed him and his mother for a
month.
    “Because every Merrow is endowed with
the power of sulmare-making, we are tasked with its protection and
distribution, both here and on Earth. Merrow fortresses patrol all
coastlines, protecting the sulmare banks. Lir and I were charged
with the Eynclaene offshore accounts.”
    “They want your powers?”
    “More than that, I’m afraid. They
want—” Nia stopped to looked at her husband, then back to Yeri.
“Tell me, Yeri. Have you ever visited the fair city of
Huron?”
    “Of course, ma’am. Who hasn’t? We go at
least once a year. I’ve a fine map of it hanging on my bedroom
ceiling. Know every borough and alleyway and byway. My father was
born there, you know, Mon rest his soul,” Yeri paused. “Anyway.
Yes, in short.”
    “Permit me one more question,” said
Nia. “Are you a hero, Yeri?”
    “A hero, my lady?” Yeri slipped the
three sulmares into his knee-breeches.
    “Yes. Have you ever heroed?”
    “Well, uh, er, I mean, Father thought