Darkling Green. Kim Thompson

tried to swim, we’d freeze up with a panic attack. It’s a phobia, it’s all in the mind, but the physical effects are real, and I don’t want either of us to drown! So please stay out of the water!”

      When they were at Grandpa’s house on the beach, Mom didn’t even like it when Willa kicked off her sandals to dip her toes in the ocean. Willa waded a little bit, but only up to her knees. If she went any deeper, she was gripped by a panicky, tight feeling in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, and her limbs became leaden and useless. Her mom was absolutely right; there was no way she could will her arms and legs to move and swim once that feeling came upon her. It was all she could do to stumble backward out of the water and rejoin her parents on the towel in the sun. There she’d sit, staring at the sparkling water. The thought of all the creatures and fish and plants that were hidden out there beneath the shimmer creeped her out.

      Belle’s whole world revolved around water, and Willa was scared to death of it.

      One day, Belle told her she used to pull pranks on human ships.

      “What kind of pranks?” asked Willa.

      “We’d get them going in the wrong direction, sailing in circles, or sometimes send them into the rocks.”

      Willa started. “You mean wreck them?”

      Belle looked uncomfortable. “We didn’t wreck them, exactly, we’d just get them going toward the rocks. If the sailors couldn’t figure that out in time, well …” Belle shrugged.

      “Wait, how did you ‘get’ them going the way you wanted? What do you mean?”

      “Siren song,” she said simply, pouring another cup of tea.

      “You sing, and—?”

      “Any men who hear it do whatever we want them to do. It’s hilarious.”

      “You can do that?”

      “Of course! Every mermaid worth her salt can.”

      “I don’t believe you.”

      Belle laughed and plunked down her cup. “Okay then, miss smarty-pants. I’ll prove it.”

      Willa followed Belle outdoors and around to the backyard, where they found Robert and the dwarves in the middle of a dispute over a game of horseshoes.

      “It was a clear ringer. A perfect shot!” insisted Radsvidr.

      “Doesn’t count if your big fat toe is over the throwing line,” countered Robert.

      The dwarf stomped up to Robert, craning his neck to glare up at him.

      “It wasn’t!”

      Robert leaned a long, long way down until they were eyeball to eyeball.

      “It … was!”

      “Wasn’t!”

      “Was!”

      “Wasn’t!”

      “Was!”

      “Wasn’t!”

      Horace was leaning against the house, smiling affably at Willa and Belle. “Such is the level of debate here,” he observed.

      Belle smiled, then cleared her throat and began to hum. In just a few seconds the argument died away, and they stared blankly at each other.

      “I’m sorry. What were you saying, my good man?” asked Robert mildly.

      “I’ve lost my train of thought,” the dwarf answered, scratching his head. They looked at each other for a moment.

      “Thirsty,” mumbled Belle, just loud enough for Willa to hear.

      Robert blinked and smiled. “Oh well, no matter. I’m parched. How about a beverage, old sport?”

      “By all means. Lead on, friend.”

      Willa stared as the two strolled away.

      “Told you,” said Belle simply.

      “It just works on men?”

      “Yes, unfortunately. You know, all mermaids can do this….” Belle gave Willa a meaningful look, but Willa was thinking about something else.

      “That’s what you used on the policemen and the firefighters, isn’t it?” she exclaimed. “That night at Hanlan’s Hill!”

      Belle smiled broadly. “No comment.”

      Willa nodded, impressed. “Wow. That must come in handy.”

      Belle sighed, glancing back at the house. “I’m not supposed to use it at all — Miss Trang’s rules. It’s for the best, I suppose. Siren song usually causes more trouble than it’s worth.”

      “How?”

      Belle had her hands on the chair’s wheels and was turning back to the house. She paused for a moment before answering.

      “People stop trusting you when they think you can control them.”

      Belle rolled slowly along the walk, and Willa watched her go. People like Grandpa, I bet, she thought.

      Chapter Three

      Silent, soft, and slow descends the snow

      Of course Willa didn’t spend all her time at Eldritch Manor. She went home for supper and to sleep, though whenever she had a spare moment before or after school, she wandered over to the old house see her friends. It was a strange notion that she would rather have tea with old folks than hang out with kids her own age. Her schoolmates found it strange, that’s for sure, and they started to write her off. The strange silvery streak in her hair didn’t help. It had appeared suddenly the day Eldritch Manor burned down, a mark that set her apart from normal people. Willa found it funny that her mom was more anxious about her “fitting in” at school than Willa herself was, and the streak in her hair drove her mom nutty.

      “We can dye that out,” she said two or three times a week, but Willa refused. She liked to be different from the other kids. She didn’t even mind that she was no longer a part of their world. Well, not much anyway. It’s true she occasionally missed talking to other twelve-year-olds, but she had nothing in common with them anymore. Now Willa preferred to sit back and observe the other kids, and soon found she could detect things about them. Not their exact thoughts or anything like that, but if she kept her own mind very still, she could feel what they were feeling. It was like hearing very faint music from another room. This new skill fascinated her, but she had to stay apart from the chatter and interaction to do it. Soon she was fading into the background so effectively, it was almost like she was invisible.

      It’s easier this way, she thought.

      As for her time at Eldritch Manor, the more she got to know the seniors there, the more she enjoyed their company. The sulky moods and childish tantrums were now few and far between, but even those ratty moments had become rather dear to Willa. She was unaccountably fond of them all; their bad behaviour just made her love them more.

      Days at Eldritch had become much simpler. The old folks were calm — there were no outright wars, anyway — and with everyone back in the house, they were pretty content. And in a stroke of luck, the Hackers had left for the winter months, off to a sunny southern beach or something. Keeping a houseful of magical creatures secret from nosy neighbours is pretty much a full-time job, and Willa was relieved to be free of them for a while. With fewer worries, she slept better at night, and the extra sleep enabled her to think clearly, do better in school, and develop her new telepathic skills.

      Even her home life was calm and happy. With Belle, Baz, and the bird Roshni all out of the house, it was just her, Mom, and Dad once more. Everyone relaxed, and it was nice to be around her parents again. Mom and Belle weren’t exactly friends, a fact that used to drive Willa crazy, but now she knew that wasn’t her problem, really. It was their battle, and they might never see eye-to-eye, which would be sad, but at least Willa had both