Undertow - Opening Scene

The fourth book in The Under Series is in the works.
Get a glimpse of what’s to come with its opening scene.

Chapter 1
Unfamiliar Places

The late summer storm from the night before had brought a welcoming chill to the early morning air, at least for a little while. For merfolk, warm weather was slow torture and heatwaves a sure way to die. Usually, Drake would avoid most of the northern hemisphere during the summer, but he needed information on those merfolk who refused to acknowledge the Council even existed, which meant getting out of his comfort zone and into the open.

In broad daylight, it was hard to imagine how lively the bars of this narrow Amsterdam street could be at night. As he walked, he was mindful of keeping his thoughts to himself, avoiding any unwanted mental collision with the resident merman. Through the decades, Drake had gathered a shortlist of merfolk willing to share the health of the underground community, a sort of shadow Council that looked after their own. With how things had been going since “Ray’s” release four months ago, it was time to pay a visit to one of his contacts.

Too early for tourists and too late for partygoers, the street was deserted at this hour, especially since it was far from the more transited roads. This district was definitely not the first place he would imagine his friend to live.

 He checked the names of the bars, looking for the Thunderclap King. He did a double-take when he finally found it, a colorful sign below it reading, Live Mermaid Show every Friday and Saturday.

  You gotta be kidding me, he thought, absently knocking on the door. The message was in four other languages, and judging by the amount of trash waiting to be picked up, this place had been packed last night.

  The door opened a moment later, and both mermen stared at each other for a moment. Broad grins broke into their faces and a wholehearted embrace followed.

  “Drake! I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to come see me, not after your TV performance.”

“I gotta stop being this predictable, then.”

  Tall as Drake, Mikkel’s silver eyes and silver hair contrasted sharply with Drake’s dark features. When it came to looks, they were the opposite sides of the same coin. They were also the opposite sides on pretty much everything, from human politics to worldviews, from raising children to handling the Council.

  They liked each other, as long as they only met once every few years.

  The empty bar was more spacious than it had seemed from the outside. The air conditioner hummed at full capacity, greeting Drake’s cold seeking body. Sunshine streamed through a high ceiling glass, showcasing red and green tables along the walls, with ample space for dancing in the middle. On the far wall, a large decorated tank was filled with water, long enough to accommodate five mermaids without a problem. It was currently empty, but the question lingered in the air as Drake looked at it curiously.

  “Ah, I promise, no real mermaids were harmed during last night’s show,” Mikkel said with a knowing smile. “It’s ironic, you know? We have two humans passing for mermaids on a bar owned by a merman who passes for a human. But,” he shrugged, offering Drake a chair, “the merfolk craziness is great for business. Everyone wants a piece of us—in the literal sense.”

  It wasn’t an accusation. It was a fact.

  “I know,” Drake said as they both sat down. “That’s why I’m here. I need to establish a secure line of communication with those we cannot reach. I need to hear what you have to say.”

  Mikkel raised a perfectly thin eyebrow. “Now you want our input?”

  “We’ve always wanted it if we could get it. Every decision we’ve made took into consideration everyone on the surface as best as we could. There’s never been a real way to reach everyone, and that’s by design. I want to change that.”

  Mikkel’s eyes narrowed. Underground merfolk made it their business to not be found by the Council, yes, but it was also true that the Council was not a democracy at all. At best, it ran as a business hierarchy, with the CEOs making decisions for everyone involved. At worst…at worst we’re five happy dictators ruling on an empty country.

  It was a moot point. The Council had been formed to help newcomers to get on their feet, and as the human world had evolved, so had their tasks. Now they helped with maintaining the secret, which also involved a great deal of acquiring resources, information, and invariably, making decisions. Decisions Mikkel here didn’t like for the most part, Drake knew. He just had nowhere to complain about it beyond making himself scarce.

  “At least you’re asking nicely,” Mikkel said, finally. “What exactly do you want to know?”

  “We’ve come up with a few ideas on how to deal with the human world in the foreseeable future. A few warnings, too. But we don’t know what you’re dealing with, or if you have some insights we’re missing.”

  Mikkel thought for a moment, an approving look on his face. “You don’t want to know where we all are?”

  Drake shook his head. “No population data, no. We’re too compromised with the US government and the UN to hold any more secrets. We’ve been able to hold the press and to keep our heads above water, so to speak, but that’s not going to last forever.”

Mikkel leaned back on his chair. “There’s been rumors, actually… Offerings in the black market to hire merfolk for black ops, espionage, that kind of thing.”

“I’ve heard,” Drake said with a heavy sigh. “They promise you won’t end in a lab if you come to them first.”

  “You gotta admit it’s a nice touch to play with our worst fears.”

Drake humorlessly chuckled. “If you hear of any disappearances, let me know.”

“You mean when you’re not the one doing the disappearance yourself?” Mikkel asked with a pointed look. Drake winced. It was no secret for any merfolk that Drake had been in human hands. Till this day, news stations kept playing the merfolk videos he’d sent to Julian several times a week, and the internet could not produce enough theories to satiate its imagination.

“The problem with the Council is that it’s too centralized,” Mikkel said, an old argument between them. “If you are compromised, or worse, if you and Julian are both taken out of the equation, who’s to say you won’t give them every single merfolk secret there’s to know? It would be so easy to take the Brooks children for that kind of ransom. That’s why you don’t want locations because you know how easily you could start telling what you know to your new human masters.”

  “You’re right,” Drake said without missing a beat. Taken aback, Mikkel’s further argument died in his lips. “We’ve become complacent in certain areas and compromised in others,” Drake continued. “Until the last Brooks child is of age to leave, we’re sitting ducks out there. But while everyone’s attention is on us, then no one is looking at you.”

Mikkel leaned on the table, now intrigued. “Rumor has it you cut a deal with the Pentagon to be released in exchange for all of us.”

Drake barked a laugh. “There’s a certain Admiral Coleman who would have loved if things had happened that way. No, it wasn’t like that. No secrets were given, but I did make our position vulnerable, and I’m trying to fix that. Merfolk deserve better than to fear for their lives, Mikkel. We both agree on that.”

Mikkel nodded slowly. “What do you have in mind, exactly?”

  “One hell of a show, my friend. One hell of a show.”