They just made the train. Outside, the warm lights of the Wythaven skyline pierced the darkness. They looked at their reflections in the train windows, angled oddly. In the distance sirens blared as emergency services rushed to the explosion. 

Brendan breathed a sigh of momentary relief. They could relax for a moment. They had run from the factory. Luckily the streets had been deserted and they had drawn little attention, and the night before he had studied some of Wythaven's bus routes as a sort of half-hearted contingency plan, not very closely, but he had memorised that the 79 ran near the industrial estate, roughly parallelled the coast, and that it crossed line 3 at some point.

Wythaven Line 3 trains were automated, and Brendan could feel the brutal acceleration and deceleration curves of the ATO. He was grateful for it. It was getting them to their destination faster.

The glowing station canopy of Mendelssohn surrounded them. A few people got off. It was the tail end of peak hour in Wythaven. Looking all the way down the train, just a long corridor bathed in clinical white light, Brendan could see there were only a few people left. They were only three stations away from the end of the line.

Are we going to make it?" Adrian looked at their semi-opaque reflection on the darkened window of the train. "Can you do a go-faster spell or something?"

Go faster spell? Don't be ridiculous." Brendan eyed someone with a bike at the far end of the carriage. "On a freeway, maybe. On a regional line that runs one train an hour, maybe. On an automated train line that runs 36 trains an hour in each direction... you are going to kill people. A lot of people. That's not to say that people haven't tried. Every now and then someone in the Wythaven Metro operations centre would contact us and try to get us to squeeze more out of the signals. They made a full blown proposal, with documents and everything. They'd try and get us to get in the train cab- crouching down so nobody could see us, of course, and jam the in-cab transponder so that the train behind us would think that we were further away from them than we really were. Just really risky stuff. Beidzner originally wanted to do it, but when I explained just how dangerous it was he pulled out. He, of all people. Dude doesn't believe in OH&S but he pulled out because of this. It would have been a very lucrative contract for the school. They couldn't really understand why we said no. The school people, that is."

There were only a few more stations. Weldon. East Ilfracombe. And then the train terminated at Ilfracombe. They followed the few straggling commuters out of the harshly lit concourse and into the carpark, where they bundled into waiting cars.

They half-walked, half-ran the short distance from the station along the deserted main street to the shore, following the smell of the sea, breaking out into a full sprint as they hit the sand. The beach was deserted. The waves lapped angrily at their feet, the freezing foam wash wetting their shoes. The wind was cold across their cheeks, angry, harsh with the inflection of salt, lashing them with frigid spray. In the distance, the glass towers in the centre of Wythaven were still brightly lit.

They did not know the exact location of the cave, so they were operating on blind logic again. He scanned the craggy sandstone in the moonlight, looking for a crevice large enough to crawl through, to walk through.

Complicating matters was the narrowing ribbon of sand they were walking on, which petered out altogether into a thin ledge of rock at the cliff's edge.

Dusk had almost completely fallen, and Brendan could barely see where he was going. His feet were soaked. He paused for a moment to gather his bearings and figure out a plan.

Putting one foot onto the ledge, Brendan tried not to slip on the barnacles. The rocks were treacherous, wet with the continued breaking of the waves that lapped mere centimetres from his feet. He tried not to imagine what would happen if he lost his balance.

They inched along the base of the cliff, one careful step at a time, careful not to make any mistake. Every time Brendan feared that he would be unable to find a handhold on the craggy sandstone, or that the ledge would become too narrow to stand on, or that he would put a foot forward and find nothing but air. But somehow they persevered.

The cliff suddenly curved inward. The ledge widened into a wave-worn rock, revealing a spot shaped by the breaking of a thousand waves, leading into a dark cavern amongst the rocks. They had reached the cave.

Brendan crouched at the edge for a moment, not daring to make a noise. He gestured for Adrian to be quiet. As his eyes adjusted he realised the cave was not as dark as he had first thought. There was a faint light emanating from further inside. Brendan's heart skipped a beat.

He ventured forward, Adrian in lockstep behind. The light grew brighter with every footfall. The trepidation was growing. He felt faint, but the feeling was drowned out by the crashing of the waves. Brendan tried to listen out for any noise, but his attempts were drowned out by the breaking of the waves outside.

They walked further into the grotto. Adrian's tall frame behind him formed an eerie silhouette in the silver moonlight. Graffiti covered to the walls, and the floor was littered with paint cans and cigarette butts. There was little chance given the noise of the waves outside that anyone would notice them. The noise from outside was reverberating off the walls, adding to the eerie sensation of the place.

Brendan slowed down his pace as he got closer and closer to the source of the light, which was the first thing he noticed as he rounded the corner: a battery-powered lantern, resting on the floor of the cave. Then he noticed the figures huddled around a light. The familiar bearded face. Adrian stifled a suprised look on spotting Oscar. So that was why he had been skipping class. If Beidzner was surprised at their appearance, he didn't show it. "Brendan. I've been expecting you," he said calmly.

"I thought so," Brendan said.

Beidzner ignored Brendan's comment, nodding instead at Adrian. "Adrian. How nice of you to join us. I hear you've been looking after my students well. I'm very thankful for that." Brendan scanned the others. In the dim glow of the single lantern they looked like exactly who they were, a bunch of scared little kids.

"FInally," Beidzner said. "The prophecy comes true. A merfolk who has been turned returns to the most sacred place of his people." He placed a hand on the rock. 

"But I am a human." Adrian said.

"The rock can't tell if you've been turned or not. Come," Beidzner beckoned. "Touch the wall. We have prepared everything for you. One touch, and the spell will be broken. But be fast. We have ten minutes, I estimate. Time is of the essence."

Brendan realised that everything had been by Beidzner's willing. He had needed someone like Adrian, and he had provided, just like the obedient student he had once been. He felt stupid. He knew deep down that none of this could have really been predicted by him alone, but the guilt still ate into him slightly for not having seen this earlier.

"No," Adrian said. "I will not."

Outside another wave broke, this time closer to the entrance to the cave, the noise making conversation impossible for a moment.

"Brendan." Beidzner commanded, using the richly layered tone he had heard so many times before. "Talk some sense into your friend."

"You don't control me anymore," Brendan retorted.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Beidzner tut-tutted.

Brendan didn't have to reply. A surge of seawater flooded the cave, tossing them against the walls and nearly blew out their eardrums. The lantern was swept away, its somersaulting beam throwing up shadows flickering wildly on the wall. It then went out, leaving the chamber in pitch black.

"We can still do it," Beidzner said, with a practiced calmness that belied what had just happened, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Hold tight. Make sure they do not escape. We can do this, tonight. We cannot let this stop us."

"It's over!" Brendan yelled, trying to cling onto a crevice in the rock, but struggling to find a handhold. He was still trying to make sense of what had just happened. Where had the waves come from? What was going on?

Below the water, Brendan felt something lunge at him. Something with a lot more agility than any of the people around him had the right to have. He immediately forgot about the water. 

He scrabbled in the dark, trying to find purchases on the rock face of the cave, which was now sodden with water. The water was only waist-height, but the current was strong, and he could easily imagine it sweeping him off his feet and to who knew where. He could see Beidzner, standing across the cave, sodden, holding on. He was as good as blind without his spectacles. Brendan knew that from experience.

Something slimy brushed against his leg. Slimy and muscular. Brendan felt a chill down his spine. A long slippery tail, ending in a fin. Rin's message to the merpeople had gone through. Strong arms grabbed him. Multiple strong arms. He felt himself pulled backwards, into the freezing water, out of the cave and into the raging tempest of the surf. He struggled to keep his head above water. He felt the thrust of a muscular tail against the raging currents in the whirlpool, pulling him through the rip. Another powerful thrust of the tail and they were clean of the waves and in the open ocean. 

***

The sea was frigid, but oddly insulating as well. He felt the chill in his bones, the cold weight of his clothes, but for the most part his body had gone numb.

They went further out into the waves. The swells that buffeted him became gentler and gentler, until the sea was completely calm, the surface glossy under the pale glare of the moon. Brendan sensed he had something to say. But the conditions were too treacherous. He decided to wait.

They stopped. The sea around them was completely calm, at least for the moment. Brendan relaxed. He felt the warmth creep back into his bones, at least a little bit.

"You guys alright?" One of their captors asked. "I hope we didn't jostle you around too much."

"It's fine," Brendan replied. Now that he felt oddly warm, he felt his strength returning. "I've been through worse." That was only a half-lie. "Are the others safe?"

"They are safe and well," he said, reassuringly.

"Who are you?" Adrian asked.

He pointed to the distant silhouettes of the cliffs.

"The barnacles on the cliffs. We collect them and sell them to the wolves on the shore. It's a very dangerous occupation. You can get swept away and dashed against the rocks in an instant. But it's the only one that pays any money. Beats digging clams and selling them to the fishermen for pennies."

"It's very dangerous."

Yes. Many of us died. One of the people we sold to was Alpha Ralph. It was always through middlemen, but one day he came down to see the operation for himself. He saw the operation we had going, how dangerous it was, how desperate we were for cash. He believed in us. He bought us harnesses and proper safety equipment. He paid us more for our hauls. And from then on, we owed him. It's quite a nifty system. We sell him the stuff, he sells it on to high-end restaurants, and then we get a cut of the proceeds."

"So why are you telling me this?"

"Well, he has invested in quite a lot of things. Alpha Ralph's pack is not very rich, you know. They're not one of the wealthy packs. He bought us that equipment on credit, you know. He was counting on us to pay back the money. His pack members would have ousted him if we hadn't pulled through. This is his chance to make it. A lot is resting on this investment. His pack members are expecting big returns, and he can't afford to disappoint him."

Brendan tried to parse what had just been told to him.

"You know what one of those investments is? A stake in Crescent City. Quite a sizable stake. He was one of the earliest investors."

Brendan flinched internally at the sudden shift in tone.

"But what about your people? You have family members, surely, who would be affected."

"We have all been cast out. We left them behind, long ago. We've been living on our own since we were teens. Ever since the overfishing started we've pretty much all come here. Do you know how many have immigrated? To the only place under the sea where they have protection? Too many. It's too crowded in there. No space to think."

Brendan sighed. Castouts fighting with the castouts, the timeworn story of New Carinthia.

"I can smell it." the merman turned his attention to Adrian. "Are you doing well? Is the wolf family treating you well?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, they are." Adrian replied.

"I know a witch doctor who can turn you back." the rogue merman said. "Pity you probably won't need it, given what's coming."

"But they are your kind. Surely.." Deep down Brendan knew that this was a futile question, but he was determined to try once more. They would have some kind of answer for that too.

"We swore an allegiance to him. We have to keep it. He is expecting us. That's why he sent us. To get you. And in turn, he has an allegiance to you-know-who."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

"How does he know we're in the area?"

"I believe he pulled you over last night." Brendan felt a chill sweep over him. "That's how he knows. Before that nobody really knew where you were."

They were getting close to the shore. The waves became more and more treacherous. Deftly navigating a course through, they charged through the breaking waves to the shallows. Brendan felt the wet sand make its way into his socks and up his ankles. It looked the same as the beach they had visited the night before.

There was a party waiting for them on the sand. Brendan's heart sank. He recognised the guy standing at the front of the entourage.