They came to the cottage at noontide, when I had just finished my small lunch of fish and bread. I was always hungry in those days.

The knock surprised me. We had lived out in the cottage for nearly three years and had not yet had a single visitor; any social calls we made, which were few and far between, required our presence in the town proper. Our cottage was small and poor, and could comfortably seat no more than ourselves. A visitor was completely unexpected.

I have looked back a hundred times and wondered what I could have done differently to change the course of that day, but there was nothing; even had I guessed who was at my door, I could not have run away. The windows were too small for me to clamber out, and I was in the later stages of my pregnancy; I would not have made it far. Even had I escaped, the six soldiers without my door were too many for me to break through, had I decided to run.

I opened the door to them, expecting a familiar face, and I saw one: Lerrick, the man who had been stricken by a horse hoof and gone down the day I had killed my thrice-damned husband.

I would like to say I comported myself bravely that day, but I am bound to the truth and to my shame: the shock of seeing his face, with the red scar at his brow and the drooping eye telling the tale of the wound he had suffered, overwhelmed me. I saw in his eyes the image of my husband lying dead, his chest and stomach a mess of blood and gore and my own hands slicked with his blood.

I fell to my knees in a swoon, my head swimming, my heart beating out a drumming rhythm of panic.

"Get up," Lerrick said. When I did not immediately obey, he seized my arm and dragged me to my feet. I protested with a weak, animal sound, trying to shape the words in my panic: Get off, get off, let me go!

"This is she," he said to the soldiers accompanying him. I noticed through the haze of fear that he wore the captain's badge at his breast. He had taken my husband's place, and no doubt had hunted with vengeance in his mind.

I twisted in his grip, trying to pull myself away. His fingers only tightened on my arm, holding me fast. A length of cord swung free of his belt. I cried out, struggling, but another of the soldiers came and took hold of me from behind. His arm was an iron band across my chest. Together, Lerrick and his man tied my hands before me, none too gently.

"I hereby place you under arrest in the name of the King and his loyal subjects," Captain Lerrick said. "I name you an adulteress, a conspirator, a murderess and a fugitive. I hereby charge you with having entertained men other than your husband with licentious intent; with conspiring and undertaking to commit violence upon the person of your husband; with the cold-blooded murder of Captain Aroc Dremmer, your husband; and with the crime of avoiding capture and consequence by way of adopting an alias and maliciously deceiving your neighbors and peers."

He smiled, allowing the words to hang in the air. For a second, he closed his eyes. "This gives me great satisfaction, madam. You think there were no witnesses to your crime, but I am pleased to inform you that I saw it all. The gods granted me my life, that I might undertake to bring you to justice. Thanks to Oran for his grace."

He stepped past me into the cottage, leaving me in the hands of the other soldier. I hung my head, all the strength fleeing my limbs.

I had never paused to repent of the sin of murder. Aroc had murdered me, and more than once. That I had lived did not free him of the crime. Now, I would hang for having freed myself and Daniel from his clutches. Cursed be the gods that brought about this miscarriage of justice.

My only consolation was that Dannie was not there.

"Where is the man who conspired with you?" Lerrick stepped out of the cottage again.

I drew a breath, closing my eyes. If I could convince them, Dannie would live.

I thought of him, thought of his dear face, his sweet smile, his gentle hands. I thought of the way he held me, with his palm resting against my belly, and the way that, now that we had a child on the way, he would speak to me of her and call her by her name. I thought of the smell of him when he came back from the sea: sweat and fish and salt, the smell of sun on the water. My Dannie.

In my mind, I looped a rough noose around his neck; I tightened it, drawing the fisted knot up under his ear; I pulled the floor from under his feet, causing him to plummet into the air. I heard the creak and the snap and watched his body jerk helplessly. I hanged him in my mind, and I watched him die.

I hanged him in my mind to save him. Seeing what they would do to him was enough. The tears spilled down my cheeks freely. With the fear running fresh and hot through my veins, I shivered and sobbed.

"Where is he?" Lerrick demanded again.

I shook my head, brought up my bound hands, and drew with my crossed fists an X over my breast.

Lerrick scowled. "Do not be coy with me, girl. Where is he?"

Again, I drew the cross over my breast, the tears rolling down my cheeks. I tried to make the word, but it came out shapeless and deformed. I tried again, replacing the consonants with ones I could shape without a tongue. "Beb," I said. "Beb."

"Dead?"

I nodded. I forced the image again to my mind: Dannie's swollen tongue poking from his blue lips, his eyes bulging and red. I must make them believe it. For a moment, I think I made myself believe it. I sobbed.

"Stop crying, unless you weep because he was spared the justice he deserves. He did not kill your husband, but he aided you in doing it, and for that he should have hanged. Jock, take her."

Another soldier took me by the arm. When I saw his face, I sensed his discomfort. He looked at me as if I were a child. His hand on my arm was gentle, and he guided me over the rough and uneven ground, saying, "Take care, madam."

I know not how long it took us to reach the ship, which they had hidden far, far along the shore; only that it felt like an age. Time fled, and I could not follow its progress. I thought only on Dannie, hoping he would not follow me, hoping he would simply let me go.

I would free him by dying, and he could live his life out here in peace for the rest of his days.

When we reached the shoreline, I saw the ship at anchor in the distance, the blue and red sails flapping in the wind off the sea. There was a rowboat drawn up on the strand, and without a word the soldiers guided me into it and made me sit on one of the benches. The rowboat rocked on the waves as they pushed off the sand. One of the soldiers had to lead it out into the water, to ensure we were far enough afloat to go out.

I had never been on a boat before; the rocking motion beneath me was strangely reassuring, with the scent of the sea surrounding me.

Later, aboard the ship, I looked back toward the land. I felt very far away from the new life I had known already, although I could still see our tiny cottage, and the settlement of Seaside, and the little vessels bobbing at anchor off the shore. I could see no people milling about back there—we were too far away, and the day was overcast, but I could picture Daniel there on the shore, pulling their boat up onto the strand, helping old Nort to haul his catch up to the market.

My Dannie, my dear one. Free forever now.

I stood at the railing with a soldier at my side. I thought they were afraid I would leap over the edge, and as I stood there staring down at the choppy blue-black waters, I wondered what would happen if I did. I thought of my mother and her dive from the cliffs. I wondered if she lived, and where she was now, and if there were others like her out under the cold, dark sea. I had never gone there, had never thought of it. I saw myself still as a human with transformative powers, not a mermaid trapped in human form. I had lived my entire life among men of the land, and thinking of disappearing into the depths of the sea was terrifying ... and yet. And yet ...

Men nearby had begun to haul up the anchor. I looked back toward the land and thought I saw something moving along the shore, but it was so far away, I could not pick out what it was.

"Take us out," called Lerrick. He was consulting a chart. As I watched, he rolled it up and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket. When he saw me looking at him, his expression turned black. "Cause trouble and we will not hesitate to execute you here," he said. "I am taking you home to make of you an example, but I will not scruple to hasten things along; I am witness to your guilt."

I wondered if he had witnessed my husband's guilt, and if he would have cared had he seen. Probably not; I thought Dannie must be the only man in the world who would have stood against Aroc. He had never raised a hand to me and hardly lifted his voice in anger.

Even my father had been guilty of cruelty and unthinking greed.

We moved slowly. The ship swayed beneath me, and I closed my eyes, focusing on the swell of my belly, wondering if my child would live. It was not easy for another person to see it, even then, near the end; the child within me must have been very small.

I wondered if knowing I was with child would cause them to show mercy. Perhaps it would cast their suspicions again toward Dannie. I could tell them it was someone else, tell them I had taken another lover. They would believe me. They already thought me a wanton and a criminal. I would do that. Perhaps they would let me live long enough to give birth to my child. Perhaps there was something in this world for her. But if she could not be raised by Dannie, where would she go? Would they send her back to the plantation to be raised by my brother? What would become of her there?

Would she have my affliction?

I heard something in the distance, carried on the wind. The sound buffeted my cheek, and I opened my eyes. There, far away, a figure stood on the shore, tiny in the distance.

I was not the only one who had noticed. The soldier beside me shaded his eyes with his hand and called, "Captain, I think there's someone over there hailing us."

No. Oh, gods, no, Dannie. I knew it was him.

Lerrick took a spyglass from one of his men and extended it; he peered through, gazing at the figure on the shore. "I can't make him out very well from this distance, but it does seem he's calling to us."

"What should we do?" asked another of the men.

"Well, can we venture toward the shore a bit? What is the bottom like here?"

"Safe enough, as long as we don't go too close; the shore to the east is sand, but not far to the left here it turns to rock, and that presents danger to the ship."

"Leave him. If he has news or a petition, he can send it by courier as everyone else does; we came on a mission of greater import. Sail onward."

I watched as the soldiers set to work. The wind filled our sails. My heart swelled with pain and gratitude both. I knew it was Dannie, and I knew it would break his heart; he must have come home to find me missing and somehow worked out where I was.

At least he was alive, and would remain so.

I stood there staring at the shore in silence, watching as he began to shrink into the distance. And then, to my horror, I saw him dart forward, a tiny figure plunging into the vastness of the unforgiving sea.

I screamed out my warning to him.

As soon as he was in the water, I lost him; I could not see him for the choppy waves and the distance between us. I grasped the rail with my bound hands. The soldier behind me took my arm, following my gaze. "What happened?"

I knew Dannie could swim. But why was he trying? Did he think he would make the distance? He could not—it was so far, the water so cold!

"He's gone," the soldier said. "Did he—by the gods, he's swimmin' it, sir! Look, there I see him!"

A flash of white. Dannie's shirt.

"Stupid fool," Lerrick said, crossing to the rail in a few strides. "Bring her around toward him."

Fool! I thought. He was swimming toward his death! The men around me stirred, busied with bringing the ship about to head it back toward the safer part of the shore. My thoughts raced, crystalline in the panic that blossomed in my mind. If Lerrick saw Dannie's face, both of us were finished. My only hope was to warn him. And I could not. Not from here.

I turned, looking around myself for anything that could be of use. The men were occupied, each with his task—all except the one next to me. I looked him in the eye. It was the one who'd shown me some measure of sympathy back on land; the young one, soft-hearted, yet unhardened by the cruelties of life.

He stood just at the railing. In one motion, I put my bound wrists around his neck. By instinct, he stood strong as I let my legs go out from under me. I pulled up with my arms, lifting my body, and kicked my legs out over the side of the ship. He teetered, and he fell.

The water was an icy cloak around us; we struck it hard, and the air was forced out of me. I held onto him, dragging at him, trying to pull him down.

He struggled and fought me, gasping and choking on the salt water. I roughly pulled my hands toward my shoulders so that the rough, waterlogged ropes would drag against his throat. Then I slackened my arms to give him room. He was no fool; he fulfilled on my hopes. He fumbled for his dagger, which nearly slipped out of his hands. He cut my hand deeply when he sliced at the ropes, but in a moment, I was free.

I plunged away from him and was gone.

***

I breathed the sea.

I felt the icy water flood into my throat, I know not how. My hands, stretched out in stars before me, pushed the current aside easily, pulling me down. Cold water flooded my chest. I breathed it out like air, feeling it rush through new openings in my neck and tickle my shoulders.

I was a sinuous bolt of energy; my body was a drawn bowstring. I struck with my long tail. My eyes were open beneath the waves and saw far and clear. I saw fish, weedy plants, stones, shells; I saw an underwater world.

My clothes dragged at me. I struck again with my tail, darting forward. My entire body bent in a curve, every muscle engaged, and I swam. I was slowed down by the waterlogged skirts, the petticoat, the apron. I fumbled with the knot of the apron, pulling it off. I dragged at my petticoats, shedding them beneath the water. They rose up in ghostly clouds, drawn by the current to the surface in folds and ruffles. I swam.

It was so far. We were so far from the shore. My body was made for the ocean. I was swift, strong, powerful as I had never been on land, but I was not fast enough.

I could not find him at first; although I could see under the ocean, the vastness of the water was overwhelming, and I could not orient myself. I surfaced some distance from the ship, my hair swirling around me on the waves, and I looked for him. I could not find him. I struck out again, this time doing my best to keep my head above the water, and at last, as I bobbed up with a wave, I saw his white face, his white arm. I saw him sink under.

I dove and gathered my strength to strike out toward him, fear propelling me forward. When I caught hold of him, he had fallen some distance beneath the water. I dragged his body forward. He was heavy; I was heavy, my soaked dress adding weight to us. I struck out for the shore, trying all the while to keep his face above the waves.

I swam for his life, for both our lives. I dragged him with me through the water, back to the east, swimming as fast as I could. I wanted to put distance between us and the ship, and bring him closer to Seaside, where there were warm fires and friends.

When I dragged him up onto the shore, not so very far from the beach where he went every day to meet with Nort, Lerrick's ship was far, far away. From this distance I was almost certain they could not see me, for I could not see any of them.

Were they in pursuit of us?

I did not care.

I cared only for Dannie, and Dannie was dead.

He lay limp on the sand, his face white and cold, his eyes closed. My webbed fingers fluttered helplessly over his face, his chest, hoping for some movement, some proof that he was alive. I shook him. I screamed. I screamed again, and again, howling with my rage and my grief.

His head turned limply to the side.

I cursed myself for having wished to see his face again; this was what my hopes had bought me. Let me go back. Let me un-wish it. Let me be content never to look upon him again. This was what my childish hopes had bought me. This, my final, most terrible grief.

I screamed, and screamed, and screamed until my throat burned with the pain of it. I bent my body over him, wrapping my silver tail over his legs, my hands like claws digging into his arms. I clung to him viciously, my head against his throat, his still body the cruel anchor that held me in unrelenting reality.

My Dannie. He had come back to me. He'd saved me, and I had let him drown.

The child in my belly turned over, feeling small and vulnerable within me. Through my tears I could see the ship, bobbing at a distance some way out to the west; to the east, coming along the strand, I could see a small group of figures in the distance. My time was short, and Dannie's legacy was within me, fighting for life.

I kissed Dannie's cold, wet brow. I stroked the hair back from his dear face. My Dannie.

It was almost beyond my power to leave him lying there, but I knew the folk coming from the east were from Seaside; they had heard my scream and were coming to our aid, no doubt.

They would find his body, and they would bury him. He would be seen to by friends, with love and tenderness.

I could not let them see me as I was—I could not remain here to be found by the soldiers. The only part of Dannie that now lived was inside me, and I had to protect her.

I dragged with my nails at the catches on my gown and shed it, ridding myself of the dead weight of humanity forever.

With one last touch of my cold hand to his, I dragged myself naked toward the sea, my silver tail scraping over the sand.