The Glimmering Sea

CHAPTER FIVE

Armida turned the dark lumetubes, spinning them until her sleepcave filled with a false dawn. Although it was her responsibility, the lumetubes in her chamber hadn't been rotated recently, much as she had failed to maintain the protective coating on the ship-salvaged mirror. Chores irritated Armida, as everything had since she began mistrusting Marean practices and customs. The creeping damage to the Venetian mirror, where gaps in the coating allowed saltwater to penetrate and cause corrosion, was a reflection of her mood Armida could not ignore.

She'd never been curious enough to explore the origin of lumetubes or the mirror, let alone brave enough to confront her mother with her refusal to undergo the Rites. It rankled that she had yielded in the end, with her outrage and convictions less substantial than a scrim of algae.

All day Armida had avoided her image in the mirror except once when she admired the green stones of her bond-necklace against the pale blue dawn of her skin. She had a keen awareness of her body and had always liked how it enabled her to engage with the world and had never wished it to be different. She prized her mental and physical strength; superficial characteristics were of little importance. She blended in with other merfolk like a seahorse mimicked plants to hide from predators, but she felt her mask failing as her inner world blistered from the friction with the world outside.

Delfina, her best friend, floated at Armida's back. ≈Let me help you prepare. It is like when we draped shells in our hair when we were merpups imagining the glimmerings of our world.≈

Armida envied Delfina's assurance and her simple acceptance of events. How beautiful and content Delfina was, even in her shifting image in the mirror. Her friend's hair coiled in a crown, her gold hair needing no decoration, her blue ombre skin paler at her face and darkening down her neck toward the steel-blue scales at her waist. With the red coral in her necklace, Delfina became an Adriatico sunset come to life, the most beautiful mermaid in Marea.

Delfina twisted Armida's hair, threading seagrasses and pearls through the silvery plaits and weaving them to form a circlet atop Armida's head. ≈Armida, you have an allure today I've never noticed in you. Your cheeks are showing purple with anticipation.≈

Armida hated that Delfina had misunderstood her emotions. Her anger was the source of the glow Delfina observed. It sizzled from her pores when Armida considered that she was trapped by practices she no longer accepted. She felt more heat rise to her face with the remembered frustration. Armida had wanted someone to confide in, to share her feelings, but when she had tried to raise the topic, Delfina brushed it aside as simple nervousness. As their attitudes toward the Metamorphean Rites diverged, so did the friendship.

Questions burst from Armida with full intensity. She had to know if there was a possibility, a flicker of understanding between them. ≈Do you not care? That the Rites are something to keep us compliant? That they mean nothing?≈

Delfina jerked away. ≈What are you saying? The Rites mean everything. Our heritage, our values, our culture. Your mother is the Custodian!≈

≈ Our values are what they are, with or without the Rites. Our lives are our lives, regardless.≈ Armida waved a hand dismissively. ≈I always assumed the Rites would answer my questions and give me the knowledge of our elders. Instead, the Rites keep us sheltered and leading routine lives. Just like my mother wants.≈

Delfina grabbed Armida's hand. ≈Quiet your mindpath. What if your parents hear your words? And, at any rate, until you've experienced the Rites, you cannot know.≈

The sand on the chamber floor drifted in small ridges. Armida's mood was like that sand, shapeshifting with the currents. ≈They already know.≈

Delfina swayed; her face darkened. ≈It is too late to refuse your Rites.≈