Water: The Mermaid Legacy Book One

By Natasha Hardy

Surrender to the power of the water…

Alex knows she is different. She’s plagued by nightmares that feel shockingly real and an intense restlessness she cannot explain. As the long hot summer holidays stretch before her, Alex seeks out adventure in the rugged mountains of Injasuthi.

But during a camping trip to the mystic jade pools, Alex meets Merrick, a boy who tells her the shocking truth about herself, and Alex's nightmare is about to become reality. Because Alex is no ordinary teenager…she is a half-mermaid and her adventures are only just beginning.

The first book in The Mermaid Legacy

Book One: Water

Book Two: Fire

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins UK
• Release date: Aug 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781472018076

Natasha Hardy

Natasha Hardy began writing one August evening when she needed to escape. Her stories are birthed from her childhood adventures, seasoned by the lives of the explorers who make up her ancestry, and woven through with the intrigue of Africa. She spends most of her time-happily- in a world of words, and the rest trying to keep up with her husband and their two gorgeously mischievous little boys.

Book preview

Prologue

We’d been running for days. The children were exhausted and I was worried that we’d lose some of them if they didn’t rest soon.

I still seethed at the betrayal. How could they?

The fathers of some of these precious little ones who were so trusting and so young!

Slavery at that age would mean they’d never really remember freedom, which of course was what the slave traders wanted. If a person couldn’t remember freedom then freedom was not something they’d long for, not something they’d fight for. They would be happy with their lot in life, content to live as animals, owned creatures.

I didn’t have the energy left to expend on fruitless anger. Anger that I could do nothing with because we were in a hopeless situation and should I have the opportunity to confront these monsters my worst fears would be realised, and all would be lost.

We’d crossed the river sometime around midnight when the moon was directly above us and I was pushing to get to the dark slash of forest that signalled a vague hope of rescue.

Vellamo, love of my life, had promised to meet us there with as many men as he could find from neighbouring tribes. My heart twisted, as the bile rose in my throat, at the certainty of the battle that would follow. The tribe that pursued us was renowned for their ruthlessness. No one left alive unless they wanted them for darker purposes.

Almost there, I whispered to some of the women beside me. One of the small babies cried pitifully as its mother shushed it urgently, trying to keep it quiet, and all of us safe.

My heart began to pound with fear as we approached the forest. Our tribe didn’t venture into the forests of these mountains. There was ancient magic here that was not friendly to the mere mortals that lived on its door step.

A rustle in the trees ahead froze every muscle in my body, as I crouched, spear in hand, ready to fight whatever revealed itself as best I could.

A warbling whistle filled me with relief as I recognised our tribe’s greeting. He was here, Vellamo, he’d kept his word. My body trembled with exhaustion as he stepped out of the shadows along with some of the other tribal leaders I’d been hoping would come.

He was so beautiful in that moment, tall, lithe and strong. I was only too happy when he led our little band of vulnerable women, children and babies into the shelter of the mountain.

As we picked our way through the shadowed valley over boulders and around the icy stream I was surprised to hear the rustle and whispered voices. Instantly my senses were on high alert.

This was not part of the plan.

I daringly brushed Vellamo’s arm, challenging his decision with a questioning expression meant only for him to see. Insubordination of this nature was not well tolerated in our tribe, and I was afraid to offend him.

They are the families of the other tribe’s men, Sabine. They are also worried about the safety of their families.

I thought this over carefully. It made sense that if the men had agreed to leave their villages to protect us, they would be concerned about the safety of their loved ones too.

Regardless, the logic didn’t completely wash away my anxiety.

I was all too aware how power could corrupt, having watched the chief of our village agree to sell the women and children in exchange for more grazing land and power, women and children, some of whom were his own daughters and grandchildren.

We rounded a corner and I stopped short, my heart in my mouth.

We were at a complete dead end, a massive waterfall in front of us, falling in a white froth into an inky pool.

One entrance.

One exit.

I looked up at Vellamo again, struggling not to question his authority, struggling to follow him into what appeared to me to be the worst possible position. I didn’t touch him, but he must have felt my hesitance, and surprisingly wasn’t offended by my concern.

This will allow us to defend you more easily without worrying about them coming around from the back.

His voice was firm but his eyes gentle as he took my hand and led me and the other weary travellers into the perfect trap.

Chapter 1

Abandoned

Brent’s happy freckled face laughed at me as he raced me to the pool. I laughed a delighted giggle from deep within my belly as I flung myself from the edge of the pool and into the water, a few moments after him.

I didn’t hit the water as I’d expected.

The air pummelled out of my lungs as the water closed over my head in a viscous bubble that seemed too thick to be water. It moved over my skin in sickening silky threads, pushing me deeper and deeper.

Brent seemed to move in slow motion above me through the dappled light, the splashing of his arms and legs as he swam creating a halo of bubbles around him.

I was out of air. The surface may as well have been a million miles away, because I couldn’t move to get to it.

Pain seared up the sides of my head, so intense everything around me faded in colour. I screamed, the last of my oxygen bubbling to the surface, as the pain intensified to unbearable.

And then with a sharp jolt, it was gone.

Brent wasn’t moving towards me any more. He was floating, his arms and legs spread-eagled and his eyes frozen open in shock.

I breathed in and out and in, before the water-muffled screaming that always woke me from this nightmare filled my ears.

Sunlight pierced the darkness of the dream as I forced my eyelids open angrily. I knew I should expect the nightmare. It had been happening for years now, but it always started so happily, and it was the only way I could remember what my adored older half-brother had looked like.

It took me a few moments to remember where I was. The unfamiliar smell of lavender and mothballs and the alien sound of a cockerel crowing jogged my exhausted mind. The Van Heerden’s, Dad’s oldest friends’ farm.

I’d been so excited to spend almost two months in the Drakensberg with Dad for my summer holidays, but, as inevitably seemed to happen with Dad, he’d changed the plans at the last moment, abandoning me instead with friends as he rushed off to do business in Namibia.

I took a shuddery breath, still trying to calm my pounding heart. Cold misery clouded my thoughts, in sharp contrast to the buttery sunshine seeping between the gaps in the curtains of my bedroom.

The day stretched interminably long before me. As much as I liked Maryka and Allan, their two sons hadn’t been overly enthusiastic about my forced appearance into their lives.

Luke’s begrudging inclusion of me in some of his holiday activities – mostly fishing and shooting – was odd. We’d been good friends as children and I’d been surprised by how sulky and resentful he’d been, until I happened to overhear a conversation he was having with his mother, two nights into my stay.

The heated conversation had been crystal clear as I’d stopped in the passageway that led to the lounge where they were sitting.

But Mom, he was arguing, I organised to go on that youth camp months ago, and all my friends are going and…

Luke, she’d interrupted him quietly but firmly, the camp is full. If there was another spot, she could have gone with you, but I’ve spoken to David and there’s nothing we can do about it. I know you’re disappointed, my boy, but you can go next holiday.

Luke had tried to argue again, only to be lambasted by an impressive guilt trip and quietly threatened with grounding if he didn’t at least try to include me in his now forced holiday on the farm.

Blood had rushed into my cheeks, as I’d listened to him trying to get rid of me, embarrassment and rejection burning in equal portions.

I’d had a fleeting moment of hope, somewhere at the very beginning of the holiday, that maybe, just maybe, these kids would be kids I could get along with. That perhaps the easy friendship we’d shared when we were younger would have somehow survived the avalanche of hormones that had transformed Luke, at least, into the shadow of the man I could see he would one day be.

I’d been surprised when he’d appeared out of the kitchen just after we’d arrived at the farm. He was taller than I remembered and his lean frame, clad in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, had displayed sharply defined muscles that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him.

We’d had so much fun as kids. My memory of those days was filled with carefree laughter. I’d been happy, content and confident in who I was. I’d been comfortable in my own skin. The five of us – Luke, Josh his best friend, Matt, Luke’s brother Brent and I – had always been out finding adventures.

My heart squeezed at the thought of Brent. Some days, after the dream, I was angry with him. Angry for having a heart attack at eighteen, angry because every time I saw his face in my dreams it reminded me how vital and full of life he’d been, angry because his sudden and untimely death had changed everything – our parents’ marriage disintegrating, the cruel and snide comments about him at school and finally, in this last year, Mom and Dad’s divorce and my subsequent and very unhappy move to Johannesburg.

The kids at my new school were completely uninterested in a quiet country girl with little in common with them. I had to admit that I found their constant obsession with the latest fashions, and admiration of the muscle-bound, image-conscious rugby team, exhausting.

It hadn’t helped that puberty had hit me with the force of a wrecking ball, my body changing almost daily until eventually, to my great relief, I’d found in the last month a semblance of equilibrium.

I’d been assured dozens of times by the myriad of counsellors I’d been sent to, that it was these changes and my new school that was the real reason behind the terrifying sleepwalking that had started a year ago, and that the sleepwalking – a new and horrible habit – had nothing to do with the recurring nightmare that had haunted me most nights since Brent’s death.

I sighed, relief silvering my black mood a little. I’d stayed in bed last night. I was sure of it. It was either the nightmare or the sleepwalking, never both.

This had of course put a spanner in the counsellors’ explanation of what was going on with me. Their reassurances that I was a perfectly normal teenager working through some tough times had fallen a little flat; that I was not responsible for Brent’s decision to dive into the pool straight out of the Jacuzzi, that this was the cause of his young and healthy heart seizing up.

And then the dream would resurface, or I’d find myself standing outside the front door, my feet wet with dew, and deep beneath the anguish and fear I knew there was something wrong. That there was something else that I just couldn’t put my finger on, something frighteningly alluring just at the very edge of my conscious thought that always slipped away from me when my eyes sprang open in fright.

I pushed at the despair that had clouded my thoughts, prodding it sullenly back into the prison I’d created for it, and refocusing on the potential for a normal teenage friendship that still lurked in the days ahead. The friendship I’d hoped to nurture with Luke hadn’t been helped by the almost claustrophobic tightening of parental supervision that my presence had caused. Luke was usually allowed to explore the farm and some of the surrounding bush freely, but my Dad had pushed Allan to keep us close to the house.

The conversation had been so odd. We’d been sitting around the fire after dinner, the adults reminiscing about past holidays they’d had on the farm…

Do you remember that one trip we did up Injisuthi when we found those pools? Dad had asked Allan.

Yeah, we spent hours shooting down that rock slide into that big moss-covered one, Allan had joined in.

The jade pools, Maryka had murmured, her eyes glazing over.

I’ve never come across anything like them again, Allan had commented, they were so deep, almost black in the centre.

Maryka had shivered slightly in the warm evening air.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been up there looking for them again, Allan had continued, his face wistful and slightly puzzled at the same time, as he relived some long-ago memory.

How old were we? Dad had asked.

Sixteen, Allan had said with certainty.

It was the year you dated… Maryka’d paused, her expression anxious, as if she’d started a sentence she didn’t want to finish. Talita, she concluded awkwardly.

Allan had whispered something under his breath to her and she’d looked away from the group into the night, her face taut.

Oh yes, I remember now, Dad had muttered as he’d become suddenly preoccupied by the bones and scraps of bedraggled salad leaves on his plate.

I’m not surprised you couldn’t remember how to get back, said Maryka, her voice falsely cheerful as she changed the subject, directing her comment at Allan. You boys spent more time sampling the local’s homemade beer than you did mapping out the routes.

Dad and Allan had laughed, the tension fading like the afterglow of a dying fire.

Although the adults had done their very best to brush over the tension that’d encapsulated them in those few moments, the one kilometre adventure zone as they’d called it – as if giving it an adventurous name made the restriction less harsh – had belied their casual dismissal of their adventure.

I sighed, stretching and struggling to shake the frustration of my current circumstances, as I swung my legs out of bed and pulled the curtains aside, squinting as excitable South African sunshine glinted off the dew-bejewelled rolling lawns of the Van Heerdens’ garden.

The garden extended luxuriously from the house, edged by fields of waving crops on the left, and lusciously green grazing fields on centre and right. The whole tranquil country view was eclipsed however by the dramatic mountains that encroached on the farm.

The Injisuthi mountain range ran in a deeply contrasted gash of soaring rock capped emerald-green peaks and darkly treed valleys.

I stared at the mountains, willing the unexplained adults’ reactions to make sense. They’d seemed – I struggled to understand it – afraid…

I continued to search the mountains, willing them to provide some clue, because Dad’s reaction in particular had been aggressively protective when he was usually so relaxed and carefree. I’d been surprised by the conversation I’d overheard him having with Allan just before he left.

Allan, I’m trusting you with my reason for living, he’d told his friend in a quiet but intense tone. Please, my friend, look after her.

Allan had promised him he’d keep me close to the house and out of harm’s way. He’d reassured Dad that Luke was a responsible kid and would make sure I was safe.

Leaning against the dividing wall between the lounge and the kitchen where I’d been eavesdropping, I only just managed to slip out of the wide-flung sliding doors and settle into a camp chair by the dying fire before Dad came outside to say goodbye.

I’d been given a severe lecture before he left. The normal listen and be helpful script had been hurriedly brushed aside as Dad warned me to stay on the farm.

Please, Alex – his face had been creased in worry, his blue eyes intense – be very careful.

Sure, Dad, I’d replied, pasting a smile on my face and hiding my confusion. The farm posed very little threat to me, surely he should be more worried about what could happen to me in Johannesburg, my home for most of the year. The worst that could happen here was I might fall off a horse, should I choose to ride one, or be bitten by an irritable goose.

I’d brushed his worry aside, assigning it to the parental guilt I’d seen both my parents war with since they’d split.

Nothing is going to happen to me, I told him, hugging him a little awkwardly.

He’d kissed the top of my head and held my face in his hands for a few moments, worry still pulling his shaggy eyebrows together.

I love you, he’d told me seriously.

Love you too, Dad.

He’d pulled me into another brief hug before getting into his truck and driving away in a plume of moonlit dust and exhaust fumes.

I refocused on the mountains, confusion at Dad’s odd behaviour still tugging at me and wondered if Luke knew anything about the story I felt sure was lurking in the folds of Injisuthi.

He’d been busy with Matt and helping Allan out on the farm for most of the week, but I was sure I’d be able to corner him after breakfast.

Matt was leaving for Hockey camp this morning, and Allan and Maryka had planned to take him there at about ten o clock, leaving Luke and me alone for the day. A quick glance at my clock had me rushing to the bathroom in an attempt to get ready before Matt and his parents left.

Feigning nonchalance that belied the last twenty minutes of frantic grooming, I was sitting at the large oak dining-room table eating breakfast in the sun-drenched kitchen, listening to Matt and Maryka chatting, when Luke came in.

He flopped into the chair next to me, pouring some cereal into a bowl and joining in the conversation.

I loved the way Luke’s family got on. So different to the strained formality I’d become used to before my parents split. This family’s interaction was as natural as breathing, their affection and easy conversation a balm to my warped perception of normal family life.

I concentrated on my cereal, trying to blend into the background as best as I could, my favourite place to be.

So, Alex. Luke grinned a naughty grin, the grin I remembered from the carefree days of our childhood. What were you doing in my bedroom last night?

I froze, my spoon halfway to my mouth, in horror.

What do you mean? I scowled.

I woke up to find you staring at me in the middle of the night. So what was your plan? Did you want to snuggle?

Matt giggled and Maryka chided him for asking me awkward questions.

His teasing tone held a hint of something else, and while he continued to grin, his eyes were wary.

Of course not, I snapped, recovering slightly from the shock. I got lost on the way to the bathroom.

He smiled easily and dropped the subject.

Did he believe me? I watched him surreptitiously as I finished my breakfast. The problem was, I didn’t know what I’d been doing in his bedroom, because I didn’t remember walking into it.

I silently cursed my sleepwalking as an irritating and telling blush crawled up my neck.

It bothered me a lot, not just that I’d made a complete fool out of myself by walking into Luke’s room, but because I’d never had the nightmare and gone sleepwalking on the same night before.

Thankfully Allan rushed in shortly afterwards to hurry Matt and Maryka out to Matt’s Hockey camp. The kitchen was suddenly empty, the only sound the scraping of our spoons in the bottom of our bowls.

What you want to do today? Luke asked, his eyes flashing briefly to mine.

Well… I paused, feeling a little silly. I was wondering if you knew anything more about the adventure in the Injisuthi that our parents were talking about last night?

He continued scraping his spoon in the bottom of the bowl, shrugging his shoulders.

They don’t talk about it very much. I’ve only heard them mention it once or twice before.

I slumped a little at his caginess as I stared into the milk and remaining soggy bits of oats. I’d been so sure there was something more interesting to their adventure, and even more sure that Luke was curious about it too.

But I have often wondered why Mom always looks so sad, and Dad gets so protective every time they mention it.

I looked up sharply to find him toying with the remains of his breakfast, his expression bemused. He continued to stare into his bowl vacantly as he spoke.

I wonder if Josh knows anything about it?

Josh was Luke’s lanky, good-natured, bubbly best friend. He was also an insatiable prankster which left me wondering if perhaps his so-called knowledge about our parents’ adventure was just an elaborate joke he’d made up to amuse himself at Luke’s expense.

He’s mentioned it once before, something about there being a local tribe that lived in this area a couple of decades ago. Josh’s grandfather is related to them somehow. He frowned, chewing on his lip.

A local tribe? I asked, glancing out at the slopes of the mountain framed in the kitchen window and picturing a scattering of traditional round thatch-covered huts dotted beneath the umbrella-shaped acacia trees.

Yeah, I can’t remember the name of the people that used to live here but we’ve found quite a lot of rock art when we’ve been camping in Injisuthi before.

What did they do here? I asked, fascinated as the life these people must have led came alive in my mind’s eye.

They were herders mostly, I think, Luke replied, getting up from the kitchen table and clearing away his breakfast things.

I followed him, helping to wash the dishes while fishing for more information. What did they herd?

Cattle and some goats. He grinned at me as he handed me the bowls to dry. Haven’t you learnt about this stuff at school?

Yeah of course I have, I replied, grinning back at him before turning to gaze out of the window again. It’s just very different being able to see where they lived rather than reading about it.

He nodded. I guess it would be. The paintings are pretty cool.

Can we go and see them? I asked excitedly.

He switched from happy to sulky in an instant. They’re a little far out of the ‘adventure zone’, he muttered as he began putting the dishes away in the cupboards.

My curiosity faded a little as the possibility of adventure died beneath our parents’ suffocating rules.

We continued to move around the kitchen in silence for a while as I tried to find a way to rekindle the spark of comradeship we’d shared.

How does the local tribe fit into the story our parents were talking about last night? I asked.

Luke shrugged, hanging up the dish towel as he did so. Josh knows more about it, he replied sullenly. He’s coming over in an hour or so to go fishing, you can ask him then.

We’re going fishing?

Yup, if you’re up for it?

I nodded smiling shyly, pleased that he seemed to be relaxing a bit around me.

Fishing wasn’t exactly my ideal pastime, but I’d happily go along if it meant a semblance of the old friendship we’d had could be rekindled and, more importantly, if I could find out more about the mystery I felt sure was lurking in the folds of the mighty Injisuthi mountains.

Chapter 2

History

Two old willow trees wept silently into the still, clear water, their shade providing a haven in which thick lush grass grew in great mushroom mounds.

Luke, Josh and I’d cycled down to fish at the dam that served as drinking water for the livestock. It was on the very edge of the adventure zone bordering the lush green plain that swept sharply upwards into Injisuthi’s peaks and ridges.

Right, you’re on worm patrol, announced Luke before showing me how to sift the mud at the edge of the pool through my fingers looking for insect larvae.

While I shuffled awkwardly through the shallows looking for larvae, mud squelching through my toes and knees cramping, I couldn’t help but feel that the boys were taking advantage of my enthusiasm as they stretched out in the springy grass under the trees, chatting about sport.

I should have minded, but the cool water underfoot and hot sun beating on my back was sheer bliss. Bright yellow weaver birds warbled cheerfully as they wove ball-shaped nests from willow leaves, their fussy partners chirping bossily. Glittering dragonflies flirted with the water as the crickets and other critters all sang their joy at surviving another day in Africa.

Eventually, a handful of worms later, and after I’d squeamishly threaded a wriggling one onto my hook and been shown how to throw the line into the water, I settled beside the boys, watching the gossamer-thin lines bobbing gently on the glassy surface.

I stole a glance at Josh before broaching the subject that had been nagging incessantly for an explanation.

So, um, Luke and I heard our parents speaking about a camping trip they went on, looking for the jade pools, and Luke said you might know more about it, and what the local tribe has to do with it? I blurted out in a rush.

His eyebrows shot up as he turned to Luke, accusation burning in his eyes.

Luke shrugged, looking a little guilty. I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, Josh, but, well… I’ve been wondering about it too. And I thought… He trailed off, looking sheepish at Josh’s furious expression.

Why aren’t you allowed to talk about it? I asked.

Josh shook his head, his mouth tightening into a flat angry line.

Aw come on, Josh, Luke complained you can trust her. They’re just stories anyway.

Stories?! Josh snorted an angry laugh. The problem is that those stories have caused a lot of trouble for my people, Luke!

She ran away, Josh, Luke interrupted him, rolling his eyes.

Wait… who ran away? I interrupted them.

Talita.

I stared at Luke in confusion.

Your Dad’s long ago girlfriend.

Oh, why?

Luke turned to Josh and waited.

He sighed, an unfamiliar frown creasing his forehead. You have to promise me that you will keep everything I’m telling you a secret.

Why? I asked, bewildered.

Because the explanation that the town has accepted for Talita’s disappearance has resulted in my grandfather and most of the tribe being ostracised and I don’t want to be the one to start up vicious rumours again, he replied angrily.

OK, Josh, I won’t mention it to anyone else, but why has the town turned on your tribe?

Josh took a deep breath, staring at his fishing line as he spoke. At the time your parents went on their fated camping trip, our people lived on a very valuable piece of land. Some people from outside had identified a possible gold vein that ran beneath it. The government had granted them mining rights but under the condition that the land was uninhabited. We’d been there for generations and, despite the threats and then the promises of the people who wanted us to leave the land, we refused to go. He shook his head angrily.

And then Talita – he spat her name out – disappeared, and our tribe was blamed. They said – he used his fingers to make quotation marks – the ‘mootie man’ of our tribe had murdered her and used her for his witchdoctor medicine. He let out a short disbelieving bark of cynical laughter.

But didn’t our parents tell them what really happened? I asked.

Josh shook his head. They tried, but they were just kids and their story was so far-fetched… Josh trailed off.

I glanced at Luke, who was staring at his fishing line too, his mouth turned down at the corners and a frown entrenched on his forehead.

So what happened?

"Our tribe was removed by force and relocated to the barren wasteland on the other side of the river where they live

Reviews for Water

[madelynnvallejo · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book would work really well in a 3rd grade classroom. The etiquetas and details in the pictures are helpful when giving a real visual as to what water does and how it reacts. I wouldn't use this book with ELL students as the language is complex.

[livvvy75 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It took me a LONG time to know what to rate this book. I kept thinking this wasn't so good so maybe I should drop the rating...or, that was fantastic, I should definitely raise it...So, as you can see, I settled on 3.5/5 and I'm fairly confident in that. First off, mermaids are probably my favourite paranormal creature to read about. So my expectations were pretty high. But were they met? Almost, so close too. The story was pretty good, it introduced some new ideas but not anything particularly outstanding. But I was very happy with the way Natasha Hardy described them, she did it to my ideal image of a mermaid which I really liked. I really liked the characters, especially the main character Alex. I thought she made a great leader and the way she acts and responds to things in the story was understandable and I just liked her as a character. Hardy's descriptions were fantastic, which kept my interest in the story and made it easy to visualise. Whenever a description came up about how the characters were dressed, I knew what they looked like and had a bit of fun imagining it. This was also great interns of characters because Alex and Merrick (especially) were easy to visualise. The other thing that stood out to me was the setting. I don't think I have ever read a book before that was set in Africa, so I thought that was pretty cool. The made pools stuck with me through out the story because I just think that they are just so cool. Once again, this is helped into being possible by the amazing descriptive writing.However, one of the problems I had with the story included the pacing. I like books I read to be paced a lot faster because I find the my interest seems to gradually slip away. The other thing that bugged me was that I thought some aspects were too unrealistic and predictable. Like, for instance, when Alex first tries to give an inspiring talk, nobody likes it. But when she says it a little differently, suddenly everybody loves it. Even those who were completely against it. Here is a quote I liked:"There is strength in unity" - Llyr (96%)So as mentioned before, my final rating is 3.5/5 stars. I will be continuing with the series and would recommend it if you like mermaid stories.