Men are liars, Aya. Every last stinking one of them!

Those words from my older sister Shub rang through my mind, and I should have listened. The sea broke around me as I swam to the surface for the first time in my life. 

All Lemurians could swim topside when they turned 15 years of age, but I never bothered. I had no interest in human men. If they were liars, they were useless to me. But staying in the ocean my entire life felt constricting. There were only so many conch shells I could find at the bottom of the sea. So, for my 100th birthday, I decided to live a little and sunbathe. I was the goddess of the sun—so soaking up some rays only seemed fitting.

I broke through the surface and perched on a nearby rock close to the shore. As a goddess of sunlight, I loved the warmth the rays provided. And when humans see the light, they are truthful. This pleased me greatly. Sadly, my brother, Onsu, didn’t share my sentiment. He took all the credit for the sun long ago, and I never forgave him for his lies. Why he did it—I’d never know because I couldn’t understand him or his deceptions. I believed that the darkness of the night had its blessings and beauty. You can’t stargaze during the day. And crickets and lightning bugs prove calming to even the most unsettled minds. The surroundings are serene to rest and refresh for another day. But he refused to see night’s beauty and lied to the humans, telling them he brought them light, not me. And because of this betrayal, I grouped my brother into the category of men who are liars. 

Laughter broke my train of thought, and my head snapped around to connect a face to the vivacious belly laughter ringing through my ears. There was a Carolina skiff boat at anchor several feet away from my perch. I counted eight men on the large deck. I may never have desired to swim to the surface until now, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know about boats. 

These men had mortal wealth, yet they didn’t appear venal in nature. The rich men my father talked about polluted the sea and were so rapacious that they took many species of fish from the ocean. Some like the Java stingaree no longer existed. Overfishing was a huge issue that Lemurians only seemed to care about, that is, until now. I watched as the men caught fish and quickly released them back into the sea. It was such a bizarre thing to do—at least to me, anyway. 

One of the men tossed a fish out of the boat in my direction, and I crouched lower on the rock so the man wouldn’t notice my tail. I loved my tail and its iridescent hues of purple, green, and blue. But the thing lit up like a beach bonfire does in the night sky. Mermaids rarely swam this close to the shore because their Merform was like a lighthouse beacon to the naked human eye. I couldn’t risk exposing the Lemurian community to these human men. And if I weren’t royalty, I wouldn’t be able to hide my Merform from them. Because I’m a goddess, I can shift to human form at will. But if the man with the gorgeous laugh, blue topaz-colored eyes as vibrant as the sea, and dark hair caught a glimpse of me in human form on a rock in the middle of basically nowhere, how would I explain myself? What normal human being swims to a rock? Most of them, according to my father, stood on a flimsy board atop a wave. That idea was just preposterous. What human would willingly risk drowning for that type of satisfaction?

I crouched down further, eyes still locked on the man and his friends who were fishing. What would I say if they caught me staring at them? And why do I suddenly care so much about what that man thinks? I let out a huff in frustration. This was nuts. Why would I have to explain myself? I didn’t have to explain anything to him or any other man because I was a goddess and a princess of Lemuria. I glanced the other way, and it appeared I was far from shore. No human would be out this far without a boat, and I had none to point to. Perhaps I could have swum here for fun. Seemed more logical to me than standing on a piece of driftwood to ride the tide. 

As I glanced back at the man with dark locks that seemed to glisten in the sunlight, I let out a sigh. It shouldn’t matter. And really, why would it if he saw me? As a goddess, others gave the explanations—not me because I was worshiped. In fact, centuries ago, humans worshiped me and many other Lemurian deities because we controlled the tides for the weak and ignorant humans.

I looked back at the man with blue topaz eyes as he let out a chuckle that seemed just as jovial as his belly laughter. My lower belly surged like waves when the tide is high. And for the first time since my brother betrayed me, I wanted to believe in those soulful eyes that belonged to a man.

The man and his companions were yelling now, breaking my train of thought.

“Hey! Watch out! Hey! We are here!”

Before I registered what was exactly happening, a boat was flying towards the men. They all jumped into the water to get out of the other boat’s way. At the last minute, the boat changed course, avoided the men, and rammed into a reef. My eyes darted to the men hoisting themselves back into the boat, but I couldn’t find the one with the dark hair and blue topaz eyes. I sucked in a breath and held it, waiting, hoping the man would surface, but as the moments passed, he didn’t.

The sound of a siren rang through the air as it bounced off the water. The mortal police would arrive on the scene, and I should risk exposing my kind to the humans. It was forbidden; my father made that law when the humans betrayed us and exiled us to the sea. The man’s life was in the hands of mortals. They’d find him. I was certain. But as the police boat sailed to the one that slammed into the other reef, my heart pounded faster and faster. 

I counted the men on the boat, and the gorgeous man still hadn’t surfaced and got back on the boat.