The next morning Fletcher ordered his men to make for home. Through the night he realized he was probably stretching their trust too far. Maybe some time on land would help strengthen their hearts and minds and pockets heavy will gold would also help. His men are heavily driven but carnal things such as money, and what they can buy. This haul would be their biggest yet, and that was thanks to their surviving mermaid. The heavy pockets might make them keener to keep her alive for now.

After Bobby's warning, he made it a point not to go down and check on the mermaid and didn't bring her up to his cabin for any more questions. He ordered his men to keep her fed and watered, but the longer he was away from her the harder it was not to see how she was doing. The little sea witch was starting to get under his skin, and not in a way he was proud of. He started questioning his methods himself and wondering if her wicked influence was starting to affect him.

The closer they got to home the more the spirits of the men increased. The doubting of their captain began to fade into the excitement of being home once more.

"Captain," Bobby asked when they were finally in port, "what shall we do with the mermaid?"

"I'm taking her home with me. I will continue to question her there and when it is time for us to head out to sea again we can continue with my plans."

"Do those plans include the mermaid returning with us?" He asked.

"Of course not. By then I won't have any need of her," Fletcher wasn't so sure that he could kill the mermaid as he promised, but it was a bridge he would cross when the time came.

"And what of your housekeeper or any other person within hearing range of that thing? We know the rules and safety around mermaids but no one else does." Bobby knew it was a foolish plan that might end up with a horde of mermaids on their shores if they realize there is a whole content of food for them. Taking the mermaid home is giving her directions to a buffet of humans.

"The women should be fine and I will make sure no men except for myself get near her."

Bobby didn't like his plan but he knew he wasn't going to be able to stop him, "How do you plan on getting her off the boat?"

On their voyage home, Fletcher had already thought about it, "On one of the abandoned islands we came across I found some discarded slave shackles. I thought the metal might be worth something so I brought them on board. I'll just use those."

Once everything was sold and the crews' pockets lined Fletcher, for the first time in days went down to the brig. Crouched in a corner he found the mermaid. She looked so much different. Despite the rations, she was given she was extremely thin and covered in filth. Her once beautiful hair was knotted and matted to her head and her skin was dried and cracked. Blood seeped from her wounds and her eyes were sunken in.

It took all his willpower not to run to her aid, instead, he grabbed the shackles and entered the cage. The mermaid didn't stir from her spot she only sat there with her arms wrapped around her legs and stared at the dirty floor.

Fletcher snapped the shackles around her wrist, ankles, and neck. When he touched her skin it felt like brittle paper that was about to crumble beneath his fingers.

"Get up," he demanded, lightly jerking on the chain.

With shaky legs, she stood with her head hung low. She looked so weak he wasn't even sure she would have the strength to make it off the boat on her own. Mustering all her strength, she shakingly followed behind him until they got to his waiting carriage.

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Once trapped with her inside the small space Fletcher realized how putrid she smelled. He wasn't sure what would happen if she exposed her to freshwater but he knew she would need a bath as soon as he got her to his home.

Since being a mermaid hunter paid so well Fletcher lived and a beautiful green estate away from most people. The only human the mermaid would come in contact with would be his housekeeper, Mrs. Dursley.

Mrs. Dursley had been with Fletcher since before his parents died. She was just as much a mother to him as his own was before she died.

When the pulled up to the large house Mrs. Dursley stood there waiting for him. When he got out of the carriage and the weak mermaid followed him the old woman's eyes grew wide in horror.

"Oh, my word!" She exclaimed.

"Madame," Fletcher began, "I need you to be very cautious around her," he gestured to the mermaid. "Never mention my name and out of caution don't tell her anyone else's name either. Do you understand?"

"This poor woman. What have you done to her?" she scolded.

"It's a mermaid, ma'am. Nothing but a monster," he told her.

Mrs. Dursley's eyes grew even wider, "Heaven and earth! A real live one?"

Fletcher nodded and jerked on the chain for her to flow him into the house.

"Don't pull on her like she's some kind of dog." Mrs. Dursley frowned. "What on earth are these chains for anyway? The more thing can hardly stand as it is."

"It's best to not underestimate her. They are cunning creatures and for your sake, I hope you remember that."

Mrs. Dursley rolled her eyes at his warning but followed behind them.

"The poor thing needs a bath," Mrs. Dursley stated.

"I realize that. If you could start dinner I will get her washed up."

"Absolutely not! An unmarried man washing a woman. What in the name of all that is good and godly are you thinking, young man?" She slapped him upside the head like a scolding mother would making the man wince and cast her a glare.

"I'm thinking that mermaids are very dangerous in saltwater and I'm not sure how they will be in the freshwater," he grumbled.

"I won't have it. Not in this house," the little old woman stood taller to get her point across.

"Then, by all means, tell me what you suggest we do?" He raises a brow to the woman, not willing to risk the life of the only person he holds dear.

"I'll bathe her and you may sit behind a screen that way if there is any danger you will be there."

He couldn't argue with her suggestion but still wasn't in favor of it. What if the mermaid attacked her quickly? Even if he was within the same room with the two of them he wasn't sure he could fully protect Mrs. Dursley. He also knew the old woman wouldn't relent so he reluctantly complied.

Once he was seated behind the screen Mrs. Dursley helped the poor girl out of her shackles and the oversized shirt.

"Oh, my word," she exclaimed.

"What's the matter?" Fletcher called out, worried that something had already happened to the little old lady.

"The poor girl is covered in lashes. Did you beat this poor creature?"

"Dry," he heard the mermaid weakly reply. Her voice coarse and as dry sounding as her skin were.

"Dry?" Mrs, Dursley replied. "Do you mean you are dry?"

The mermaid nodded. The slight movement made her cringe, the skin was tight and itchy. Even her bones ached for water.

"You poor thing."

Fletcher audibly huffed, "This is one of the many reasons I don't hire women for my crew. You are all too soft."

Mrs. Dursley ignored him and helped the mermaid into the warm bathwater. Even though it felt better than being in the air the water still felt dry to Tullulah. She couldn't feel her tail replacing her legs and the water seeped into her skin too slowly.

"Is it hot, my dear?" Mrs. Dursley asked.

Tullulah shook her head, "It's fine."

"Are you sure she's a mermaid?" she called out to Fletcher.

"No, I pulled a woman out of the middle of the ocean and just assumed," he said sarcastically.

"No need for that tone, young man. It's just that she doesn't have a tail. Aren't they supposed to have tails?"

Fletcher peered around the screen to see the mermaid sitting in the tub with her human knees poking out of the water. Mrs. Dursley was dumping water over her tangled hair.

"The salt in the water must be what gives them their powers," he started. It was the only explanation he could come up with, and seeing her in the tub of freshwater softened his heart. She looked so human, and a sickly one at that.

Mrs. Dursley noticed him peeking and glared at him, "Then I guess there is no reason for you to be in here then. Especially since you can't keep control of those eyes of yours!"

Fletcher's gaze snapped up to Mrs. Dursely, "I wasn't peeking for the reasons you think."

"I don't care about your reasons, now out!"