Six months passed. Home was shaping up to be a place Isaac could stay at forever. Hammond tried to make holes in the wall with his skill [Stoneshape]. When he did and the lights went out, he looked understandably embarrassed.
“Stupid low-tier bricks,” he muttered, while everyone laughed.
“Guess we’re eating in the dark today, boys.”
The pile of things they had to learn grew and grew. Isaac didn’t think that peeling potatoes or making his bed would ever help him when he was grown up, but Claire just waved him off when he asked why he had to do that while Zach could do cool things like chopping wood.
“We all do our part,” she said, nose-deep in three schoolbooks at once. “Or do you want to teach me about long division and continental plates?”
That sounded even worse than reverse cultivation. Understandably, Isaac dropped the issue, especially once he was promised he could start chopping wood on his twelfth birthday.
One day, a change fell over the house. A woman came by on a Tuesday afternoon, all clipped and prim. She looked like a penguin, though that was just her clothes. She seemed to have something not to say about every room, and she always left every one with her nose upturned and a note on her notepad.
Claire was a ball of nerves the entire day before and during. Out back, Hammond was building fences with smoothed edges.
Eventually, the woman asked to speak to Zach and Isaac alone in a room. Her questions were… odd. A lot of them were easy to answer, such as how his day was, what he did with his free time, how much free time he had, if Claire or Hammond forced him to do any dangerous chores. He was happy that she was taking notes and made sure to repeat how Claire was breaking less and less kitchenware as time went on.
“Do either of your caretakers ever force you to do any work for them?” the not-penguin-woman asked.
At his unblinking stare, she decided to elaborate.
“Some orphanages — places like this one — give their children little chores that then turn into big ones the older they get, or become conditional to their pocket money, turning them into jobs. If it gets in the way of your education — which you have a right to — then I am well in my power to take you somewhere else. That said, do you have a job? Do either Hammond or Claire seem like they want to put you to work a lot?”
Isaac started sweating at the idea of having to leave. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t know what the right answer was.
“Aunt Claire doesn’t want me to be a potato peeler, does she?”
The woman huffed, and made another note. Eventually, she gathered everyone around.
“Your care has been… adequate, if unconventional. There is no sign of malnourishment, mistreatment, or any ill will held towards you in your charges. I would give my immediate seal of approval, however, your orphanage is far-off and lacking in some critical facilities. I expect an improvement by next year.” She handed Claire a piece of paper, making her eyes bulge.
“We’re going to have to rent out plots of land if we're supposed to pay for all this.”
“I have no stake in how you achieve this, but I believe it should be within the means of someone your stature. For now, I bid you adieu.”
In her wake, Claire was left grumbling over the note. “That was the first person on this planet who didn’t demand a bribe.”
“What’s an a-doo?” Isaac asked.
“It means goodbye, or until another day.”
“Oh. Okay.” A few seconds passed. “Claire?”
“Yes?
“I don’t want to be a potato peeler. I want to do what you do.”
Like going to faraway places, meeting people, doing magic. The island was nice, and it was home, but Isaac had already decided that he wanted to see a planet without an ocean, just to see what it was like. It wasn’t easy, but Claire was an adventurer. She seemed like she could do anything.
“Humm. But I just do boring stuff, like taking the squishy guts out of a fish. Would you like to do that instead?”
It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it wasn’t far off first place.
“Yeah!”
+++
The next day, there was a different woman at the pier. She wore a plain dress and a plaid blouse that was only slightly damp. The waves were high, and the sea sprayed sprinkles of salty wet all across the coast. It was hurricane season. The thought that someone had dared to take the ferry across in this weather made his stomach cramp and his breath quicken. What if the boat flipped over and sunk? What if something came out of the water and ate you? What if you fell into the water?
Upon spotting her walking up the road to their home, Hammond headed out with an umbrella and engaged the woman in conversation.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Zach said, having set down his Mothers of the Deep pulp magazine.
Isaac scooted back and forth as they spied on them from the attic window. “I dunno. There’s someone else with her, I think. She’s leaving now.”
The front door squeaked open and closed shut, the boys rushing over their makeshift pillow fort against would-be intruders, and down the stairs. There, standing on a doormat that read ‘Landdweller? So What(er)?’ and clinging to Hammond’s pant leg like a limpet, was a girl. She looked their age, maybe a bit younger, though she could have just been on the short side. Her face was marked with summer freckles, smeared snot, and the red-rimmed eyes of someone who cried a lot.
“Isaac, Zach, good to see you up already. Say hello to your new sister. Does she want to introduce herself?” he peered down at her, one hand reassuringly at her back.
The girl looked him briefly in the eye, then back at the floor. She shook her head.
“Well, no need to rush. Her name is Sophia, and all you need to know is that she is like you, in many ways. Give her some space, let her get used to our home a little. I’ll tell Claire, but she is a bit busy correcting some of the older educational material we were given. Keep the roughhousing for later, alright boys?”
“Right,” Isaac muttered.
Hammond left to do some adulting, and he had to practically pry the girl off of him to even get anywhere. Isaac thought it was a bit extreme that he had to wrap her in three different blankets for her to calm down, and perhaps a little envious that she got the remote just like that. It looked very comfy, sitting so snug on the new squeaky couch.
They watched some sort of documentary on the life cycle of krill. The narrator had a smooth voice that just begged Isaac to fall asleep. The girl seemed enraptured, while Isaac had caught himself keeling over forwards twice already.
“Let’s go do something else,” Zach said, saving him from death by marine biology.
More like Marine boor-ology.
“W-wait — ah!” The girl tried to stand up together, but as she was still wrapped up tightly, she just flopped off the couch and thumped onto the carpet.
Quiet sobs came from under the mountains of cloth.
“Hammond!” Zach called nervously.
Their big, dog-eared helper and protector came stomping in. “What is it?”
“We didn’t do anything,” Isaac said. “She fell on her own.”
He picked the sobbing burrito up, making sure she wasn’t hurt. Isaac was sure she would be perfectly fine, if she could just stop crying about every little thing.
“Boys, how about you go and do something outside.”
“That’s what we were already doing,” Isaac grumbled and stormed out.
He was mad and he didn’t quite know why. But tromping along the wet sand, one thing was becoming increasingly clear: That girl was a load of trouble.
+++
It started small, at first. Cookies disappeared, socks showed up where they shouldn’t, the toothpaste was frequently with the cap not screwed on right. Crab crackers became less common even though Claire was always making more. A cool rock Isaac had found and was keeping to show off how many times he could skip it showed up not where he had left it in his drawer, but on top of it, with a face of all things drawn onto it. The face had whiskers.
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They were the kind of things you could get momentarily annoyed at, but then forget and go about your day.
Then it got worse.
Sophia’s favorite food was brussels sprouts of all things, and so every dish they had was made with those sour little cabbages. The role of ‘channel queen’ fell to her more than anyone else, leaving Isaac to endure long hours of sitting together on the couch, watching something he was less than interested in, while she hogged all the snacks and she got all the good seats. The days when he could fall asleep in Claire or Hammond’s arm and not be woken up by a sudden cry, or a foot to his face, were becoming fewer and fewer.
He wondered idly how long it would take until they got sick of her as well, and when he asked Claire for a calendar, he could hardly believe it hadn’t even been five days.
Then, on the sixth day, he entered Claire’s study to ask for some help with his homework. And she was there.
“Claire?” he asked, not getting an answer.
She was poring over some book or another in the candlelight, the little snivelly girl sitting in her lap, watching her work. The girl peeked over her shoulder at Isaac, who tried not to acknowledge her. But she hugged herself tighter to Claire and out of the corner of her eye, he saw her blow a silent raspberry.
His brain stopped working for a moment, before everything suddenly made sense. People as whiny and annoying as her didn’t exist, only on TV. She was doing it on purpose.
“One second Isaac.” Claire finished with a flourish of her pen and turned around. But all she got was a door shut just a bit too loudly.
When he told Zach, and he said he didn’t believe it, Isaac was just about ready to pull his hair out and stomp the ground.
It was so unfair.
Later that night, they were setting the dinner table, when Claire got their collective attention. She had a little bell that she would ring twice. She didn’t look like she was about to happily announce puzzle nights on Tuesdays.
“So. Gentlepeople. I have noticed that not everything is smooth sailing under our roof. That means I, as your protector and mentor, am failing you. So, any pointers?”
There was a silence so sudden and awkward. Isaac had many things to say, but it would have been rude to open his mouth, and Claire did not like rude at all. And since he couldn’t trust it not to open by itself, he stuffed it full with more side-salad.
Mmh, yum salad. I’m just a rabbit. A rabbit that won’t say that Sophia is a lazy flounder, greedy crab, and a stranded blobfish all in one.
Zach didn’t seem to share that mindset. “Sophia doesn’t have to help making food or doing the dishes at all. Why is that?”, he asked, feigning innocence as if he was just curious.
Claire mused, putting a finger to her lips as Hammond dished out dinner, a golden gruel with veggies and dried algae. The brussels sprouts were in a separate bowl.
“I suppose because she is still treading water, still new here. You two were new once before, remember?”
“Yeah, but she shouldn’t get to eat sprouts and dessert if she isn’t doing anything like all of us,” he countered.
Claire hummed, as if appreciating the thought. “Then, if the world was how you wanted it, people who don’t help get no dessert? What about Hammond then? He wasn’t helping.”
“He was…” Zach said. Isaac knew the answer. He was Hammond, a grown-up, and grown-ups were always doing important things. “He was doing something else.”
“I was fishing actually. Didn’t catch a single silverling. You could say I spent the entire day wasting good bait.”
Zach’s mouth opened and shut closed.
They waited for Claire, who was patiently watching like she did when she was teaching them to read and write Standard.
“M-my mom used to make me brussels sprouts—” Sophia, who could barely be heard over her whisper, burst into tears.
Claire was quickly at her side, a wash of warm air rushing past as she gently scooped the girl up into a hug. It all went by so quick, Isaac didn’t have any time to think before Claire talked in a gentle, even voice.
“Isaac. Zaccharias. I know you thought it would be just us until the end of time, but we are building an orphanage, a big home for kids like you who have no home of their own. Sophia… her parents died in an accident while driving their car. Do you know when that happened?”
Both boys shook their heads. Sophia’s sobs were muffled.
“Last week.”
Nobody knew what to say. When he looked at the sniveling girl again, for the first time since he first laid eyes on her, Isaac felt bad.
“So”, Claire said, after Sophia had calmed down somewhat. “It is time for dinner now.”
They all got their plates stuffed with food, stuffed overfull even. It had been a hungry day full of very important kid-things that didn’t at all just involve digging holes in the sand and finding weird bugs to stick in each other’s hair.
Isaac was moments away from eating his first bite when he noticed that Sophia’s plate was still empty. Both grown-ups were sitting at the table, neither making a move to give her food.
“What?” Claire asked. “Don’t feel like eating? Don’t look at me like that. This was your idea, Zach, just one stroke farther along.”
They stared at her, then back at Sophia, who was looking at the food with quivering lips.
“H-here,” Zach said, messily shoving some of his dinner on her plate. “Have some of mine.”
Of course, Isaac couldn’t not offer some of his own stuff now. He’d look like a total jerk.
“Here,” he mumbled, making sure to give her plenty of his brussels sprouts.
She didn’t meet his eyes, nervously looking everywhere else. But he swore she muttered a “thank you” at the end.
This feels… nice. Weird.
They ate dinner. Claire had that happy smile again as she unveiled what was for dessert.
“I got this from the mainland, from a person I know. It’s… tadaa! Pudding. No fish in here, promise.”
There was chocolate pudding, one huge heaping bowl of it, so much that Isaac didn’t know how they were ever going to finish that much. Hammond wiped his mouth. A small humanoid figure made of rough stone blocks peeked out from behind the bowl, then lifted it, and shakily carried it over right in front of Sophia.
Her eyes were wide as saucers, and Isaac wasn’t sure whether it was because of the magic, or the rare sweets. She couldn’t have looked happier.
“Ahem,” Hammond cleared his throat. “You couldn’t possibly eat all that yourself, could you?”
She looked at a number of other little stone men holding everyone else’s plates, then at her hoard of pudding. After due consideration, she gingerly put a few spoonfuls on it, then did the same for Claire. The pudding smelled heavenly, and even just from passing a bowl, Isaac felt how cool it was. This was a first, even for him. There was still a lot left for her to share with both of them.
Sophia raised the spoon to her mouth and took a big bite.
“Ah!” Both Isaac and Zach shot to their feet, much to the amusement of the mousey girl, who giggled and grinned like a mad bat.
“Sophia. Brats only get pudding once.”
They each got a heaping plate, and it was a sweet dessert.
After their bellies were full, and Hammond had been voluntold to do the dishes, Claire gathered the three of them around.
“I know that living together will not be without difficulties. Isaac, I know you were envious that Sophia was hogging my time. Zach, I know you were giving her puzzles for older kids so she wouldn’t want to puzzle with you on purpose. Sophia… tell me, were you trying to get my attention so you could make either of the boys mad?”
“No,” she said sheepishly. “One time. Maybe two times.”
“I see. I will not always have time for you all. More people will be coming to our island during the next months. Our orphanage is officially allowed to care for more kids. Things are about to get busy, and you will have to learn how to look out for each other.” She gave them all a squeeze. “I want you to be happy, and safe, and live a normal life.”
“What if we don’t want a normal life?” Zach asked.
Claire gave a small smile. “Then I will help you still. Though, if you want to be a bigwig like the emperor, I don’t think I can help with that.”
“What if I want to be an adventurer like you?”
“I… I don’t know if I want to help you with that.” She looked uncomfortable, her brows furrowed. “And I’m not always the best voice for every answer. Maybe if I ask someone from a local pod.”
“What’s a pod?” Isaac asked.
“A pod is… when a merqueen lays a thousand eggs at once, the children are divided up into pods. These pods have to learn how to live with only each other for help, because the oceans are vast and deep, and the only thing that holds you together are those bonds tighter than adamant.” When she talked about it, it sounded like she was remembering some faraway place, or a dream that never could be. Her brow furrowed as she looked outside the window. “It is… would you like to become a pod?”
There was cautious nodding from all around. It sounded like something new, something from where Claire was from, something from beyond the stars. That automatically made it cool.
“Then follow me.”
“I’m so full. Do we have to?” Isaac asked as he watched her go outside, where the typhoon was raging.
“Come on, no dawdling you lazy flounders,” she said as rain buffeted her smiling form. “The weather is wonderful.”
Isaac just stared at her in bewilderment. But after a moment’s hesitation, Zach got up with a shrug.
“It’s just some merfolk weirdness.”
Great. Now he had to follow after Zach. And Sophia followed after him. They were all outside now, standing outside, in the rain.
“Give me your hand,” Claire said, “one each.”
They each stretched their hands out.
“Zaccharias Jaune,” she said, clicking her words the way merfolk clicked in P’cleek while the song continued deeper inside her throat. “You are the controller, the one who weaves the waves above, and tides below. Be wary that your reach does not eclipse what you can be responsible for, and use your mind for better things. Be blessed.”
“Sophia Wist. You are the listener, who hears the waves and feel the clicks of life abounding. Be wary that you do not get lost in following an echo, nor grow placid with the gentle lapping of waves on end, and use your boundless sense for better things. Be blessed.”
“Isaac Calico. You are the pillar that breaks the wave, who stands strong, cracked, but unbroken. Be wary that you do not lose your place, that you don’t leave behind and are left behind in turn, and use your boundless spirit for better things. Be blessed.”
“And now, after me,” she said and the weirdest thing happened. When Isaac opened his mouth, it felt like he already knew the words, like he was born with them, and his life had amounted to waiting for this moment just to say it. “Swap our fates and hope to die, live forever between we and you and I.”
She clasped their hands in hers and began… singing.
It was an odd tone she never used when they were around, high and long, almost wailing as it went up and down in waves. Through closed eyes it felt like the air grew heavy and he was underwater. When he opened them again small, warmth began glowing through his skin.
The rain outside poured and poured like a wall of water, like it was trying to drown them all, and claim the sky as the ocean’s domain. The song reached a climax.
Finally, she stopped, as if sucking every note back in, and pressed their hands tight together, so tight it would leave an imprint.
The sky was entirely quiet. The sun was out, light peeking out of a distant hole in the sky that stretched beyond the horizon. The walls of the storm grew along its side, billowing up and up and further yet.
“A pod stays together, through days and nights, through dark moons and thin waters, through fire and death. I declare it so, above the waters of Maerdon. What each of you lack you can lend from another. From this day forth you are brother and sister and brother.”