Why Nileas Loved the Sea

By Ariel Tachna

For years, Aeolus has fought the Sirens, trying to rescue hapless sailors from their clutches, to no avail. When he encounters Nileas, the first man to heed his warnings in time to be saved, Aeolus at last has a chance to indulge his fascination with the world of men. As they begin the long journey back to Nileas’s home at the other side of the Mediterranean, sharing stories of their respective lives, it becomes apparent Nileas is just as fascinated with the world of the sea—and with the merman who saved him.

Despite the attraction growing between them, neither can see a way past the limitations of their races. Aeolus cannot live long on land, nor Nileas survive in the sea, but their love proves stronger than Aeolus’s determination to let Nileas go. Can they find a compromise that will let them share their lives, or will they need to challenge the gods for the right to be together forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
• Release date: Aug 18, 2010
• ISBN: 9781615815852

Ariel Tachna

Ariel Tachna is a polyglot linguaphile with a passion for travel, yarn, orchids, and romance. She has explored 45 states and 13 countries. The rich history and culture of France, the flavors and scents of India, and the sunrise over Machu Picchu in particular have left indelible impressions and show up regularly in her writing. Her passion for yarn has resulted in an overflowing stash and more projects than she’ll probably finish in a lifetime, but that has yet to stop her from buying more. Her orchid collection has outgrown her office and spilled over into the rest of her house (much to her children’s dismay), but that hasn’t stopped her from adding to her collection or from resuscitating any unhappy ones she finds. When she isn’t writing, knitting, or poking at her orchids, she spends her time marveling at her two teenagers, who never cease to amaze her with their capacity for love and acceptance and sports—they certainly didn’t get that from her!—and their refusal to accept injustice of any kind—she hopes they got that from her.  Visit Ariel: Website: www.arieltachna.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/ArielTachna Email: [e-mail]

Book preview

Why Nileas Loved the Sea

Aeolus kicked his tail rapidly, desperately, as he cut through the turquoise water, eyes darting left and right, his entire body undulating as he used the current to speed his progress. He could hear the Sirens singing, which meant they had spotted a ship and intended to lure the sailors onto the rocks. Their song had no effect on him—he was unable to leave the sea to follow their lure, but even more than that, he was uninterested in maids. He had been told often enough that he could have his pick from among them, but another world had caught his interest, a world he could see only from the edges: the world of men.

Catching sight of the keel of a vessel, he propelled himself toward it, hoping to distract the sailors from the lure of the Sirens’ song. The ship was moving slowly, and he could picture the scene aboard with alarming ease. The men would have heard the entrancing music, confusion settling across their features as the Sirens’ hypnotic spell worked on their senses, drawing them away from their duty and into the secluded cove. One or two might try to resist, but it never worked for long. Only Odysseus had ever escaped their clutches, though Aeolus was not sure how. Knowing their lure could be overcome, Aeolus tried even harder now to save the ships, to break the spell.

Passing the bow of the ship, he broke through the water’s surface, his powerful tail propelling him up into the air, water foaming around him as he tried to catch the attention of the men aboard the vessel. They had ears only for the Sirens now, so he did not try calling out to them. His voice, however powerful, could not drown out the trio who lay in wait for their victims. He hoped instead that a merman appearing suddenly in front of them would divert their attention long enough to draw them away. A few did indeed look his way as he danced along the surface of the water, his tail working swiftly to keep him balanced on the waves, but they did not succeed in distracting the man at the helm of the ship from his new goal: the cove where the Sirens tempted men to their deaths. Before long, even the men he had freed from their spell succumbed again, their curiosity in his regard no match for the enthralling song.

Sliding back into the water in defeat, Aeolus tracked the boat’s advance, hoping that despite all prior evidence, this boat would somehow avoid the rocks and sail safely through the entrance to the cove. The men would still be enslaved by the Sirens, but at least they would be alive.

Moments later, the sharp rocks shredded the hull of the vessel, and Aeolus watched helplessly as the men fought the undertow. He dared many things in his battles against the Sirens, but he dared not enter their grotto. They allowed none but Poseidon himself inside their lair, and the sea god rarely left his underwater palace these days.

When the struggles of the drowning men ceased, Aeolus retreated, his heart falling. He felt each death as keenly as if his failure had lured them there in the first place, but he had learned the hard way not to try to help the victims. Even as they drowned, they fought to reach the Sirens, and his attempts to help them were met with vicious kicks and blows. Undulating slowly through the water, he asked himself once more how long he was prepared to keep fighting—and losing—this battle.

The water darkened as he swam deeper, seeking the grotto he had claimed for his own when he left his father’s house. Entering the cave, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the phosphorescence that lit his home. Everything was just as he had left it, the coral table in the center of the room bearing the remains of the morning meal he had abandoned to swim after the doomed ship. With a bubbly sigh, he cleared the flat seashells from the table, returning them to their places on the shelves he had constructed out of the sunken remains of wrecked ships. He ran his fingers over the pieces of flotsam he had collected from those same shipwrecks, each one a glimpse into a world he could never enter. He knew what most of them were for, having observed men on their ships since he was old enough to swim to the surface, but they were still curiosities to him. Each relic reminded him of his failures even as it reminded him of his dreams.

He refused to give up hope that he would eventually triumph. To do so would be to give up hope on the world of men. He had spoken against the Sirens in Poseidon’s court, but he had found no sympathy among the other merfolk. If the men were weak enough, they said, to be lured by something as mild as the singing of the Sirens, they deserved their fate. Aeolus didn’t agree. He had seen men fight, had seen their will stolen by the Sirens’ lure, and he knew it was wrong. Unfortunately, with no disapproval coming from the one being the Sirens feared, they had no incentive to stop.

Everything in order in his grotto, Aeolus returned to his haunting of the sea lanes, swimming farther afield than he usually did. Perhaps if he could catch the attention of the sailors before the Sirens did, he could lead them away from the dangerous cove and safely past by another route.

He could still hear the Sirens singing when he caught sight of another hull cutting swiftly through the water. He swam to the surface, hoping the song was inaudible to mortal ears