Inheritance
By Michael Le Page (© 2013)

They weren't the first tourists to gasp at the sight, and nor would they be the last: the waterfall was spectacular. Crystal blue water sped through choppy rapids into the bowl of the volcanic crater, disappearing through a cavernous sinkhole into an underground river somewhere far below. It was said that during heavy rains the water could encircle the entire rim and cascade down into the darkness in a single, unbroken sheet. Even now in the late afternoon sun and with only two thirds of the circle complete, the curtains of water cast reflections upon reflections of rainbows up at the couple who had come to visit.

Kathleen unclipped the lens cap from her DSLR and started taking photos of the waterfall, and Sam in front of it. Even though the lookout was high above the rim of the extinct volcano, there was no evidence of a bottom to the void, only air. The roar of water crashing on rocks at the bottom was only a distant whisper that came and went with the wind: No wonder this was a place where legends were born. Sam pointed out the lake in the distance.

It was here that the glacier lake drained down from the mountain plateau in what was known as the Mermaid falls. So called, the brochure told them, because the glittering array of colours coming from the falls were as beautiful as the tails of the mermaids who supposedly haunted it.

The origin of this legend was tied to the history of the area, and the road on which they came in: It was a road as unlikely as the geography itself, cutting up through the lesser mountains in a series of steep rises and switchbacks, clinging to the side of cliff faces where necessary, then following the ridge line to the point where it could cut through to the mountain towns on the other side.

Originally, back when it was just a horse trail, every traveller would come to a point where they had to cross the glacier lake by ferry, since it was far too wide, far too deep, and above all far too cold to attempt a fording. Even then it was dangerous; travellers or sometimes whole ferries would be caught in the current and swept onto rocks or over the falls, the bodies of the victims never found.

Still, it was one of the only routes through this part of the mountains, populated by people who held onto their horses long after the rest of the world had switched to cars. A homestead was established on the far side of the lake as a way station, eventually becoming the centre of a small community. Travellers would stop for food and lodging, rest their horses overnight and continue on in the morning. Only when the highway was finally put through and the lake bridged did the homestead get relegated to a tourist attraction.

"Visit the Lawson homestead for horse rides!" proclaimed a sign at the lookout. "For the more adventurous, come out on a glacier hike, or try a ride in our new 3-seater submarine as we explore the wrecks of the ferries which have been lost on Mermaid lake!"

"The submarine ride sounds interesting," Sam thought out loud.

"As long as we don't go over the falls." Kathleen answered with half a smile. Who had ever heard of a submarine in a mountain lake above a waterfall?

"They'd have to have a sub that could cope with the current." Sam replied. "They probably get asked that by everyone who does it."

"Sure." Kathleen said, and it was settled. She wasn't really worried. It sounded like it would be a story worth telling.

It was the thing she loved about travelling with Sam: in the four years they'd been together, they had travelled so frequently that both of them were usually on the same page when it came to decide on what to do. They planned surprisingly little, but the result was an awesome set of adventures that inspired much jealousy back home.

They stood and stared at he falls for a while longer. The black volcanic rocks which formed the rapids and lip of the maw were jagged like the teeth of some ancient monster, frozen in stone when its fires went cold.

"I wonder if anyone has ever gone down there?" Kathleen said, mostly to herself.

"Alive you mean?" Sam joked. "Are you volunteering?"

When she didn't respond immediately he reached around and picked her up, moving as if to throw her over the rail of the lookout.

Her shriek was somewhere between laughter and terror. "Stop it," she said, poking him in the ribs with her elbow until he relented, then looking around to see if anyone had seen them. They had the lookout to themselves. "You would think there would be more people here."

"The tour groups probably come through together in the morning," Sam mused. "Want to stay at the Lawson place tonight? We might be able to get on the sub tour easier if we go first thing in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan."

They eventually walked back to the car park in silence, listening to the sounds bouncing off the surrounding cliff walls. Five minutes later it was out of sight, and if it wasn't for the distant rumble, you would never know it was there.

A short drive onwards they were back in sight of the lake, but the only sign of the falls was a cloud of mist in the sky. The bridge itself wasn't anything special, with just five concrete pylons enough to span the icy water. A minute later they were on the other side and a minute after that they rounded a bend into the mountain meadow where the Lawsons kept their horses.

The lake became much wider at this point, and on its banks in the distance they saw the buildings of the homestead and a century-old oak tree that featured in the homestead logo. Once in sight it was surprising how much further they had to drive: the tree itself was huge.

The glacier itself came into view at the far end of the lake, shining in the afternoon light. Facing it, the forested meadow had wildflowers scattered between the trees and the dappled shadows they cast. In between them, homestead screamed holiday destination at this time of year, but it was impossible not to notice that the mountain peaks around them were also tall and sheer cliff faces, carved by the bitterly cold winds that must howl through this place in winter.

They parked in a lot next to the oak tree and wandered over to have a look at its trunk up close: it still bore the metal bracket to which the more recent ferries had been permanently chained. Beside it the jetty ventured a short distance into the water. There was no boat in sight now, but the domed top of a small yellow submarine could be seen as it rocked back and forth on the waves.

"Bessie, we call her," they heard the voice call out behind them. "I've been taking her out for nearly two years now and she's solid as an ox." The woman smiled a quick smile, "No, we've never lost anyone."

She walked straight up to them, put down the box of supplies she was carrying and held out her hand, "I'm Ainsley Lawson, I'm the manager here."

"Hi, I'm Sam" he said, shaking it, "this is Kathleen."

She took in the camera dangling around Kathleen's neck. "Oh you're a serious photographer." She winked, "Bessie has domed glass windows for 360 degree views. Can I interest you in coming for a ride with us?" The twinkle in her eye was unmistakable. She was a confident and direct saleswoman.

"We were thinking to stay the night and go out in the morning," Kathleen replied.

"Great. Well make sure you go see my sister Bridget inside and she'll sort out your room. You're the only ones here so far tonight, so please let one of us know if there's anything we can do to help you out. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks, we'll do that."

Ainsley picked up the box once more, then turned back to them as an afterthought, "Actually if you feel like it, we can go out on the lake tonight after dinner."

"You can go out at night?" Kathleen asked.

"Well, most of the wrecks are on the lake bed nearly twenty metres down, so we have to use the spotlights to see anything anyway." She shrugged, "It's an option, think about it and let me know at dinner."

"Okay, cool."

After grabbing their bags, they made their way inside to meet Bridget, who was a shorter, more bookish copy of her sister. As she escorted them upstairs to their room she invited them to dinner.

"Dinner will be at 6:30. Are either of you vegetarian? No? Well tonight we have beef and vegetable stew, with potato salad and fresh bread from my cousin Jason's shop just down the road. Make sure you stop by tomorrow morning to try his pastries and coffee for breakfast before the tour bus arrives. They are divine!"

They said their thanks and set their bags down. Both of them fell onto the queen bed in a moment of pure relaxation: it had been a long drive but this was worth it. The view outside the window was like something out of a national geographic magazine. The remaining rays of the sun snuck through the gaps in the mountain peaks around them, setting the ice of the glacier glittering blue and white above the turquoise water.

They glanced at each other at the same moment.

"Tonight?" He said, his meaning clear.

"Definitely." No further conversation was necessary.

***

The dinner was the best kind: home cooked and made with love. It was the kind of dish that melted in your mouth and eroded any intention you may have had to eat moderately. It felt more like a family home stay than a bed and breakfast: the two sisters sat down to eat with them and the conversation flowed easily. It turned out Bridget was quite the storyteller, and by the look on Ainsley's face, she'd had plenty of practice.

Six generations of Lawsons had lived in this homestead and looked after its guests, five of them before the highway was built. Each one had built on the work of the last, either with newer accommodations for the guests or by making the ferry itself safer by tying it with long chain to the tree. Their great grandfather had established the horse breeding stables that were now run by another of the cousins. "Pretty much everyone who lives here is a Lawson by blood or marriage," said Bridget proudly.

"Bridget, you make us sound like inbred hicks every time you say that." Ainsley interjected in a low voice.

"Well no, we all went to boarding school in the city and met new people," Bridget said defensively. "That's where Dad met Mum. That's where Jason met Marie."

Bridget pushed on, "I mean, there's lots of new blood too. I just think it's really easy to fall in love with the magic in this place and that's why people stay. Did you go see the falls on the way in?"

"It was amazing," said Kathleen. "I'm surprised you don't get more tourists."

"We're working on that," said Ainsley.

"My big sis," Bridget beamed at Ainsley, "the first Lawson to get an MBA."

"Oh shush Bridget."

"No, everyone up here is so proud of you," she turned serious. "She saved the community."

Ainsley turned to them in the silence that followed, feeling some explanation was required. "Once the highway was complete, there was no need for anyone to stop the night up here, so this place was losing money hand over fist. People were talking about leaving."

Bridget cut in, "Dad passed away while it was being built, and poor mum drove herself crazy just trying to keep this place going."

"So yes," Ainsley went on, "it was obvious we had to change our business model from just being a travel stopover to being a tourist destination. There’s no shortage of things to do around here."

"Maybe it was obvious to you sis!" Bridget laughed. "You remember how Uncle Howard reacted when you came back from business school with your fancy slide show and all your crazy ideas. Horse rides through the forest? Guided glacier hikes? A submarine in a mountain lake?!? He nearly had a heart attack"

"It was just a slide show" Ainsley smiled.

"Ainsley was the one that made the government fund the building of the lookout above the falls" Bridget went on. "Who else here would have even thought to do that?"

"Well, it's a world class tourist attraction and it deserves to be appreciated." She lapsed into pitch mode: "It might not be the biggest or the tallest or have the most water flow, but it is the most beautiful." She smiled winningly. "Bridget and I went up to the lookout last winter on a clear night after it had been raining and the falls were full circle. The full moon was high overhead and the moonlight rainbows coming off the falls were the most surreal thing I've ever seen."

"Sounds incredible," Kathleen responded.

Ainsley glanced at Kathleen's DSLR that was sitting on the table. "I wish we had had a proper camera to capture it. My phone camera couldn't see anything."

"You should buy one of your own," said Kathleen, "or hire a photographer. I can give you the shots I took earlier if you want."

"That would be great. It's always nice to have good photos for promotional work."

"Oh," said Kathleen with a wry smile, "In that case I shouldn't give you the photos I took with Sam in them. People would run the other way."

"Hey!", said Sam who had been relatively quiet. "Do I look like a piñata?"

"That was for trying to throw me in."

"Oh right. But I thought you wanted some close up shots."

Bridget snorted with laughter, and Ainsley joined her. "You two are hilarious."

Sam took the opportunity to change the subject, "So what about the submarine tours? How many ferries are there to see?"

Ainsley smiled, "would you like to go out tonight?"

Kathleen and Sam glanced at each other and nodded at the same time.

"Great! Well there are three wrecks that we can get to in the sub. There's a fourth one caught in shallower water near the rapids past the bridge, but the current is quite strong at that point and our license only allows us to go as far as the bridge. It’s a safety precaution.”

“Each wreck has a tale behind it. I’ll tell you the historical side of each tragedy, and then I’ll tell you all about the how the legends of the ice mermaids played into it. It’s a great story.”

The Lawson sisters exchanged a look as Ainsley mopped her bowl clean with her last scrap of bread. "The dessert will keep until after we get back, won't it Bridget?

"Sure will."

"Good," Ainsley stood up from the table. "I'll go prepare the sub while you two finish up. The tour will take about an hour, so it’s best to go to the bathroom first if you need to. Can you meet me in fifteen minutes by the jetty?"

"We’ll be there."

***

The twilight was deepening when they went out to the jetty, and a trio of flood lights illuminated their way as they stepped down into their seats. The sub seemed odd at first, with the two passenger seats at the front and the pilot in the back, but it meant the passengers received the best view, which was the whole point. "Watch your hands," said Ainsley as she pulled the domed lid of the submarine down over the three of them. "And you may want to pop your ears during this next bit"

The air pressurised and the motors could be heard cycling up. When the sub's spot lights were switched on, it seemed as though they were floating in a bed of light.

"Right, we're ready to go. So you know, this vehicle stays at sea level pressure the whole time so you shouldn't have to pop your ears again until we arrive back at the jetty. If you feel sick at any time, just let me know and we'll see what we can do with my med kit back here. There is a doctor back at the homestead if we have any serious issues, but we only wake up uncle Annie if we need to. Other than that, do you have any further questions before we start?"

They didn't, and the sub smoothly accelerated out into the water, leaving the lights of the homestead behind. "Down we go!" Ainsley sing-songed, and the water started creeping up around the dome until they were all the way under the water.

Very quickly there was little that could be seen outside, and the only thing that let them knew they were moving was the hum of the motors and the background haze of dust in the water that receded behind them. Ainsley set her heading, opened her booklet, and began to speak:

"Welcome to the Mermaid Lake Submarine tour. My name is Ainsley Lawson and I'll be your pilot this evening as we visit three ferry wrecks, each with their own story, each part of the history of this place. We will start at the beginning, with the first wreck in the time of the Lawson brothers who founded the homestead, then work our way forwards in time until the wreck in my grandfather's time. It was he who stopped the accidents by building the ferry chain and anchoring it to the oak tree."

"You two said you came up the mountains from the western side, past the falls, yes? So you've yet to see the highway tunnels on the eastern side. Well you should look forward to that. I heard the engineers won an award for that stretch of road: it used to be an impassable line of cliffs. That's important because, before then, this lake crossing was the only way up or down from the communities on the plateau."

"You may have noticed, we are crossing the lake well upstream of the bridge, and are basically on the same path that the ferries used to take across the water. It's much wider at this point and the current is much weaker, so you could cross the lake with just a single man in a row boat. The small hut that held the signalling bell on the other side is still there, and we visit that on our guided horse tour. It leaves every day at 10am if you're interested."

"Do you take that tour too?" Sam asked.

"No." Ainsley shook her head. "Our cousin Jeff takes that one. But I like to tag along if I'm free. Extra time with my horse and all that."

Sam and Kathleen glanced at each other, shrugging. They'd talk about it later.

Ainsley eased the motors back as a fluorescent buoy, anchored to the bottom of the lake, came into view. She flipped a page and continued speaking as several broken planks emerged into the spotlights. "The first wreck we see here was actually the first ferry ever built. Lindsay Lawson was the older of the two brothers who saw the opportunity for the homestead at its current site, and he was the one rowing it when it went down."

Soon they could see the whole thing, mainly intact, but lying on it's port side with a gash on the starboard side where an oar fitting had come away. It actually wasn't very big at all. Kathleen's camera was out and clicking, and Ainsley shifted the sub to point the spotlights as she spoke: "Now you can probably guess what it looked like when it was upright: when they took the horses across (it had to be one at a time), they would tie the leads to that post in the middle there, and Lindsay would sit up on the bow of the boat and row from there."

"It obviously wasn't the most stable of rides, and I once had a boat designer tell me that it wouldn't take much of a swell to have made this thing capsize, especially if you have a horse standing in it, so he was surprised to hear that Lindsay (or sometimes his brother Robert), took people across the lake in this boat for over twelve years!"

"Eventually it did capsize, one night during one of the harsher winters this place has known. The last thing Lindsay was recorded as saying to Robert was that it was a foul night to go out. But the bell was ringing and the water seemed calm enough to risk it, so he went to pick up the travellers anyway. Robert's diary records that 'a sudden squall sprung up not fifteen minutes after he set out, and my brother has not been seen since'."

"So it was that Robert and his wife Mary were left to adopt Lindsay's five year old son Jack, his three year old daughter Lilly, into their own family, since Lindsay's wife had passed away during childbirth a year before."

Ainsley paused, putting on a gleeful voice. "But here's where it gets a bit spooky: No one really knows what happened that night, because no one who was on the ferry survived, but little Jack Lawson, who had been sent to bed that night after supper, wakes up his auntie Mary in the middle of the night to ask if his mother is home. 'No, my sweet' she says, 'why do you ask?' And Jack replies, 'I heard daddy saying her name tonight'."

Ainsley had been slowly circling the wreck in the sub, but at this point she revved up the engine to back off and set her course for the next wreck. The sudden noise was jarring against the quiet.

Ainsley continued as the motors settled into their rhythmic thrum and the wreck disappeared into the darkness, "That might have come to nothing if Mary hadn't mentioned it to the wife of one of the mountain men who came down to help Robert make a new ferry. Upon hearing this story, the five men and two women downed tools and started packing up. They were gone an hour later, but not before they related the legend of the ice mermaids. Robert's diary recorded it, as well as the beating he gave his wife on account of him being forced to finish the ferry himself as a result of 'stupid superstitions'."

"Years ago," Ainsley began, "when the internal rocks of the volcano still had some heat in them, the waters from the lake took a different, gentler path down the mountain: The river could be crossed easily on horseback by crossing under the lip of a waterfall, and then through a series of steaming rock pools." Ainsley stopped to add her own clarification, "This much is true as far as we know: the original crossing they speak of is mentioned in several accounts of how the settlers first came to be up on the mountain plateau."

"According to the story, these hot springs quickly became an area sacred to the local townswomen, who would go there when it was time to give birth. One pool in particular was out of sight of the main path that travellers would take across the river, and this was the most special place of all. It was there that Persephone went when it was time for her to give birth."

"Persephone was different to most women who went there: She was a loner, strange by nature, and shunned by the rest of the community. She bore within her a child not human at all, but a creature of hatred borne out the way she had been treated by her father, a man himself disdained by the rest of the community."

"It was said she could be heard for days, crying out in labour, anger and anguish. When it finally came to the time of her greatest pain, a few of the women who could hear her cries finally felt pity, and determined among themselves that at least they should go to Persephone and help her recover, but they were too late. The screams were so loud that they finally broke the foundations of the surrounding cliffs, and set off a landslide that buried Persephone and the rock pools. Such was the scale of it that the river itself was diverted into the volcano, and the clouds of steam that came out took almost a year to stop."

"At this point the people on the mountain were completely cut off from the outside world, and it stayed this way for many generations. The communities who had lived by the lake for generations prior to the landslide moved up into the hills after that, setting up new settlements by high mountain streams. The reason given was always the same, a feeling of dread around the water, a new, raging current which disappeared into the black maw of the volcano, combined with the tragic tale of Persephone: Some who visited the lake even claimed to have seen a face under the water, or said that women, children or livestock would disappear if they ever ventured too close."

"It became the mountain people's version of the bogeyman story, told by grandmothers to scare young children. Perhaps they were fables, but no one wanted to be near the lake just in case the stories were right."

"Eventually their curiosity about the outside world started to outgrow the fear of old tales. They realised that the current in the lake can get really strong at some times of year, and if you're not careful when swimming, you really can get swept into the rapids or over the falls. Occasionally, adventurous young men would attempt to make the journey down to the coast by crossing the lake in a raft and forging a new path down the side of the mountain." Ainsley added another aside: "I even checked the city library when I was down there: it has records suggesting that some of them made it, but many more of them were lost in the journey, and no one ever made the return trip until the man who enlisted Lindsay and Robert to build the first ferry."

"When the mountain people were told that Jack's mother's name had been heard the night that the ferry was wrecked, and that she had died in childbirth: all the old fears came back to them: The woman Mary told this to was herself four months pregnant and flat out refused to stay any longer. The stories did always emphasise that the ice mermaids were especially attracted to pregnant women..."

Sam chuckled at the way Ainsley said it, and winked at Kathleen, "you're not pregnant, are you?"

Kathleen snorted, "no. And if I ever feel like letting my body be taken over by a little parasite, I might even let you know about it."

Ainsley smiled, pausing to collect her breath as a bright pair of buoys came into view, marking the site of the next wreck. "Jack, Lilly and their cousins helped Robert run this ferry here for upwards of thirty years. According to the diary, Lilly would often man the rudder while two men took an oar each."

It was obvious that this boat had been significantly larger than the first, easily three times the size of the first. Again, it was largely intact. "Can you see the gap in the gunwale near the stern there? That was where they lead the horses on and off. If you have a look at the jetty when we get back, you'll even see the hooks where they kept the ramp tied up when it wasn't in use."

"The reason this ferry went down is less clear, and Robert had become quite frail by this stage so he had stopped writing in his diary for the most part. The only entry mentioning the event said simply: 'The ferry is gone. Lilly is missing. Jack was found clinging to a rock amongst the rapids. He was half dead. His legs have been smashed and he won't talk of what happened. The boys are building a replacement ferry'."

"Judging by the state of this boat, we can only speculate that perhaps a horse spooked while on board and knocked one or more of those aboard into the water. Without anyone on the ferry who was able to control it, the current may well have forced it onto rocks where it took on water and sank."

"Ironically enough, the freezing cold of the water probably have saved Jack's life, since he was severely injured by whatever crushed his legs. But no one ever heard him speak again, nor did his wife ever gain children by him. It was Robert's children who continued the Lawson line, and Robert's grandson, my great grandfather, who first made the family famous, not because of the ferry, but because of the horses he bred."

***

Sam had zoned out for a moment, not because the story wasn't interesting, (although it was a little bit weird how blasé Ainsley could sound when talking about the deaths of her direct ancestors - five generations really wasn't that long ago) but because of the ferry itself. There was barely a scratch on it: he could imagine that if it was hauled up and dried out, it would probably still float perfectly well.

"Sam." Kathleen was clicking her fingers in his face, "Sam? Ainsley is going to take a photo of us."

"Oh, right."

"I usually do this here," Ainsley said as she took the DSLR, "because the third wreck isn't nearly so well preserved and this makes for a better photo."

Sam and Kathleen turned in their seats and looked back at Ainsley as they leant against the glass. Kathleen took his hand in hers, and he looked down at it, smiling, when the camera clicked.

Ainsley's shriek was loud in the enclosed space, her eyes locked on the display even as her hands jerked and she fumbled it, letting it fall down into the gap behind Kathleen's chair.

"What?" Sam said urgently. "What's wrong?"

Ainsley's mouth was moving, mouthing something repeatedly, but nothing was coming out (was it 'no'?)

Kathleen picked up the camera and turned the display around so they could see it. It had been bumped onto the live view setting so she switched it back into display mode.

It was a good photo: They saw themselves, smiling back at them. Or at least Kathleen was; Sam was looking down at their hands. The wreck of the ferry was behind and between them, caught in the glare of the sub's spotlights, except...

"Is that a horse?" Sam pointed at the shape on the lake bed beside the wreck.

"No, that's a rock," said Kathleen, confidently.

Sam turned around to look out the window and saw that she was right.

"Are you okay?" Kathleen said to Ainsley.

It seemed to jar their pilot back into action. She started adjusting controls and the engines revved up, backing them away from the wreck. "We are going back, right now." She said it like there was grit in her mouth.

Sam was still looking at the camera display, then back out at the wreck receding into the darkness. "What did you see?"

"Nothing important." She said through thin lips. "We just need to... Get back."

Sam was looking into Kathleen's eyes as Ainsley set her heading and pushed the engines up to full throttle. Neither of them knew what to think until a thought occurred to him.

"Wait a minute..." He said, a smile creeping onto his face, "this is an act right? You take us out at night, tell us ghost stories, then freak out when you take the happy snap. That's brilliant marketing."

Ainsley chuckled thinly, forcing a smile. "Yes okay, you got me." But her eyes kept darting around, and her skin had definitely gone whiter. "The third wreck isn't much to speak of, anyway. That's just where five of my great aunts went missing."

"Haha, awesome." He laughed nervously. "I bet the fourth wreck has an awesome story too."

"Yes", Ainsley's face darkened.

"Stop taunting her Sam" Kathleen interjected. "I'm sure she'll explain once we get back, just let her drive."

They sat in silence for a minute as the darkness washed over them. It was impossible not to be aware of Ainsley looking left, right, above and behind them as they moved. Sam realised that Kathleen was still holding his hand, rather tighter than usual.

"Only a couple of minutes more." Ainsley spoke. "My sister makes the most delicious apple crumble." And our cousin Jason makes the ice cream. Did Bridget tell you about his pastries?"

"Yes, she did." Kathleen replied.

"Well I think we've got some of those at the house too. We'll be there soon." She looked around once more, then down at her controls.

She reached over and tapped on a dial. "Huh," her grunt was confused more than anything.

"What is it?" Kathleen asked.

"The pressure gauge. It says we're at thirty metres."

"How deep did you say the lake was?" Sam asked.

"Twenty metres." She tried to look unconcerned. "Give or take."

"So..." Sam wondered aloud. "How deep is it near the homestead?"

"Not this deep."

"I thought you were taking us back?"

"I am." She tapped on the compass needle. "Or at least I was. We should have seen the markers by now."

"Well obviously one of those instruments is wrong." Sam was getting a little irritated with Ainsley's behaviour. He felt Kathleen's hand give him a squeeze to take it easy. "Can't we just go to the surface and have a look?"

"That's what I've been trying to do." Ainsley said it tightly as they watched the gauge click over to thirty five metres. "The floats are fully inflated now, we should be popping up like a cork."

Instead they found themselves watching the gauge as it kept ticking over, now at forty metres.

"What depth is this sub rated to?" A note of uncertainty had crept into Sam's voice.

"One hundred metres." Ainsley replied, "but there's nowhere in the lake even close to that." She turned back to her controls, "Not to worry, we're going to try something else."

She pulled back on the pitch control as she throttled up once more. They felt themselves pushed back in their chairs again as the engines responded with a healthy roar. For a while, nothing seemed to happen, the gauge stayed at forty metres. Then, gradually, the gauge crept up to thirty five, then thirty metres.

"It's working," said Ainsley, hopefully.

The gauge was approaching twenty five metres when the light from the spotlights started being reflected back at them.

A sheer vertical wall emerged out of the darkness at speed, and Ainsley barely had time to turn the sub broadside before they slammed into it with a sickening crunch. It didn't touch the glass of their dome, but it came near enough.

They stared at the wall in disbelief, Ainsley most of all. "Impossible," she breathed. "There's no way we came that far."

"What the hell?" Sam was on the side where they had hit. He had smacked his head against the glass and was still rubbing it to check if it was bleeding. "Is that rock?"

"Ice." Kathleen said, and they all knew she was right. "This is bad."

As if in agreement, a sharp snap rippled through the water around them, stunning them all with its volume.

"Go." Kathleen said to Ainsley in a low urgent voice. "Go go go!"

Ainsley gunned the engines as they backed away from the wall with the expanding crevice. More snaps thundered through the water as the ice wall fragmented beside and above them.

Moments later the sensation was vertigo: the sub was *pushed* by the surrounding water as the new iceberg came down from the glacier, twisting and turning as it went. Then there were shards of ice illuminated by the spotlights, flying through the water past them as gracefully and deadly as killer whales on the hunt. They found themselves holding onto their chairs as the sub flipped, then righted itself.

The sub drifted away from the glacier as they regained control of their panicked breathing. The shards they could see disappeared into the gloom above.

They were all startled as the sub gently touched down on the lake bed, before the current started moving them again. For the first time in ten minutes however, Ainsley felt strangely reassured: regardless of the fifty metre reading on the pressure gauge and the narrow escape. She may never have been this close to the glacial wall before, but at least now had a clue where she was.

"Is everyone okay?" She called.

"Yes," said Kathleen.

"Yeah," said Sam.

The fact that no one's dinner had made an appearance was even more impressive, Ainsley thought absently. She had seen people throw up in the smallest of swells, but these two seemed like a solid couple. If she could only figure out what was wrong with the sub's instruments that had taken them so far off course and nearly gotten them killed, she might just get these two home, at which time she thought it might be time to go see her old psychologist: he would hopefully be able to convince her that the thing she saw in the photo she took was a figment of her imagination, brought on by two years of telling this story.

But then they touched down on the lake bed again, and the herd of terrified horses galloping past the submarine put an end to any sense of reality.

***

As they disappeared off into the gloom, Sam was the first to speak: "Please tell me you just saw horses too."

"Yes," said Kathleen and Ainsley, together.

"Okay," said Sam trying not to sound as bewildered as he was. He turned and looked at Ainsley, "Anything else you want to tell us?"

"Uh," Ainsley looked between the both of them. "Congratulations on the baby, I guess."

Sam looked at Kathleen, confused.

"I'm only a week late." Kathleen said, annoyed. "That happens sometimes." She rounded on Ainsley, "and anyway, how do you know it isn't you who's pregnant?"

"Cause I haven't been laid in a year." Ainsley said, louder than she meant to.

"I find that hard to believe."

Both women glared at Sam. He raised his hands in submission. Kathleen rolled her eyes and said to Ainsley: "Okay? So what if I am? what does that mean?"

"It means we need to get back." Ainsley says, battling to sound reasonable. "The weirdest stories," she starts, "the ones that the mountain people tell the girls to stop them fooling around with boys: they always involve pregnant women. And this..." She gestured in the direction of the horses. "This is up there."

"We can't go to the surface and look around?"

"No," Ainsley had to say, although could not see any reason why not. The sub's responses were not making sense. "Although what I was doing before was working."

"Let's not try that again," said Kathleen quickly, thinking of the way the glacier had cracked in front of them. She was also working on sounding reasonable, with limited success. "What if we keep the lake bed in sight and just go in one direction? we eventually have to reach the edge, right? I mean, the lake doesn't go on forever."

"Yes, okay." It was the logical thing to do. Ainsley started the sub off slowly in the direction which seemed most directly away from the glacier.

"Why horses?" Sam asked suddenly. "Does the..." he hesitated at the word, "legend explain the connection?"

Ainsley thought back over the years of preparation she spent bringing this submarine tour into existence. She could have handed it off to someone else at some point, but it was too much fun. It had always been a scary and unique legend to her, and now, it was what? A lesson from history that could be studied? No. She couldn't bring herself to believe it was all true, because if it was, well, they were completely fucked. She pushed it out of her mind.

"What I was going to tell you as the last part of the tour was that the third wreck was when my grandfather Geoffrey was still a teenager. His father, who was the oldest of six, he was the one that set up the horse stables."

"He had five younger sisters were all very good riders, and so they often went down the mountain to enter in various competitions. Geoffrey was with his aunts at a competition one time when they met a young couple: the husband was another breeder, and his wife a well-known painter who was pregnant at the time."

"They invited this couple up the mountain, to see the falls and visit the breeding stables. They all stopped for two hours at the cliff where the lookout is now, so the wife could paint, and they sent Geoffrey ahead to warn the family to prepare for company. We know that it took that long because it was two hours after Geoffrey arrived home that he and his father were attracted to the shore of the lake by the screams from the ferry, but whether they came from man, woman or horse, no one could be sure."

"The way Geoffrey told it to me when I was a little girl, it was a clear, calm day, but that whole stretch of the lake was been obscured by a cloud of fog that appeared out of nowhere. When they went out in the rowboat later, the only thing floating on the surface was the painting the wife had done. That's the one that hangs in our foyer."

"What I don't tell people on the tour is that Geoffrey's father became incredibly superstitious after that, and he went to live with the mountain people. He decided that his sisters were living on as ice mermaids, and that they kept their horses with them under the lake as a memory of what they once had."

"Geoffrey himself thought his father went crazy by losing all his sisters in one day. He always said that the more realistic explanation was that the ferry was overloaded with all those people and horses trying to get across in one trip. He was angry at his father for running away to the mountain people, and because he had to take over everything after that. He was the one who built the chain into the next ferry, and that he said, was what stopped the accidents. But his father never stopped believing they would start happening again."

"You said there was a fourth wreck?" Sam pushed, "So the father was right, wasn't he?"

"No." Ainsley continued, her voice devoid of emotion. "At least, not exactly. The fourth wreck was no accident: it was where my mother committed suicide. I wasn't here at the time, but the highway was taking traffic past our doors without stopping, and like Bridget said, she drove herself crazy trying to keep the place running. One night she just woke up, took the ferry as far down the lake as the chain would allow, then cut it with a pair of bolt cutters. The current did the rest before anyone could get to her."

They went on in silence for several minutes after that, watching the seafloor go past, unchanging. The pressure gauge stayed at fifty metres.

"What did you see in the photo you took of us?" Sam asked gently. He suspected he already knew the answer.

"My mother." Ainsley's voice quivered.

"As a mermaid?"

"If you can call that a mermaid," she said, pointing out the window.

The shape that emerged into the spotlights could not be called anything else, yet it no story mermaid Kathleen had ever heard of could claim to be half as menacing. If it had beauty, it was the beauty of a great white shark or Siberian tiger; those predators without anger, fear or hesitation. The scales were flakes of black volcanic rock, coated in blue glacial ice that played with the light in a way that had clearly inspired whoever had named the falls. Her white icicle teeth showed when she smiled at them, but the eyes remained deep black voids in a face that might once have been recognisably human. There would be no negotiation here.

Nonetheless, Ainsley tried. "Mother please!" She sounded hysterical. "You don't have to do this!"

***

There is no obvious response to speak of. The mermaid seems bored, lazily back-pedalling away from them and slaloming between a trio of marker buoys attached to the lake bed.

"The third wreck!" Kathleen sees it on the lake bed, briefly illuminated by the lights. It really was just a pile of rubble. She didn't want to think of what form of violence could possibly tear it to shreds like that. She spoke quickly, "Can you find the way back now?"

Ainsley is already turning the submarine at right angles to their previous path and pushing the engines to maximum, angling the pitch control up again once more. She has little intention of paying attention to her instruments; her trust in them is all but broken now, but even so, there is some relief as the depth gauge obediently clicks upwards as they get ever closer to the surface.

When Sam realises Kathleen is holding his hand again, he can't help but meet her eyes, seeing the same raw fear that he knew must also be on his face. He can't think of anything to do but squeeze her hand: she squeezes back. 'Just a bit further until the surface,' he thinks. He would almost be prepared to swim back if it meant not being trapped in this sub any longer.

They all notice as the concrete pylon sweeps past on their left.

"The bridge!" Sam and Kathleen yell out simultaneously.

"I see it" Ainsley turns left to spiral around it, and yet after barely half a turn, she realises they're hardly making any headway: the current has them.

The engines strain to move them back towards the pylon, even as the mermaid casually swims past them and circles back on the other side.

With a flick of her tale she is right in front of them again, smiling, pressing her face on the glass like a child at a candy store. They flinch backward, leaning away from the grinning monstrosity, but there is nowhere to go. Ainsley shimmies the sub gently, trying to see a clear path forward.

It's not a good idea. With a clap rivalling the noise of the glacier, the mermaid slams her hands against the glass angrily, once, twice, three times, then completely disappears from sight.

They listen to the engines struggle in the relative silence that follows, all of their eyes are searching madly for where she went.

"Did she go underneath?" Sam says.

"I blinked," says Kathleen.

Ainsley has turned them to the side, giving up on fighting the current and just trying to get to the edge of the lake. A large rock sweeps past them, then, a fourth ferry.

Kathleen registers that the mermaid is flying over the wreck at them with powerful strokes of her tail, a vision of a streamlined predator with a singular purpose.

She swims up to the sub, reaches through the glass, and rips Sam out of his seat into the surrounding water. His eyes instantly turn to blood with the pressure.

"Sam!" Kathleen screams, reaching out at the glass he had passed through moments before. It was intact, with no leaks. And yet she pried at it like a door that had shut too quickly.

"Mother, no!" Ainsley screamed out at the vision in front of them. Sam flails in space, blindly trying to fight back against the brutality; blindly trying to gain purchase on anything as precious air bubbled from his mouth.

Repeatedly the mermaid grabs and releases him as he twists in the water. She tears at his clothing and skin, pulls his ankles then his hair.

At first, Kathleen screams incoherently, but it becomes angry quickly. "Take me too, you bitch!" She slams on the glass herself as Ainsley watches in horror.

Sam's struggles are weakening. The mermaid swims in behind him and holds him up in front of them as a taunt to Kathleen. Grinning, she bites and tears a chunk out of his neck with relish, his body spasming in response.

"Fuck you!" Kathleen is yelling repeatedly, crying at the sight. "Fuck you bitch!" She slams on the glass again. "I'll tear you apart!"

The mermaid seems to hear her this time, smiling a bloody smile and leaving the body where it floats. She swims back towards the sub, head sideways with new curiosity.

"Yeah, that's right! You and me!" Kathleen yells, slamming on the glass once more.

"Kathleen," Ainsley warns without hope: the challenge has been accepted.

Ainsley descends into mute horror as Kathleen screams her best warrior scream. Then it's the ice mermaid and the newly widowed girlfriend gripping each other by the shoulders as they fall out into the water, tearing and scratching at each other.

Ainsley sees Kathleen get at least one good punch in before a curtain of bubbles veils the fight from her view. Ainsley starts shaking with shock, alone in the sub. It is only the jarring of the sub slamming into a rock that knocks her back to her senses.

And then she realises the controls are responding to her touch once more: she moves to roll the sub away from the rock. A glance at the dashboard shows her she's only five metres below the surface.

The sub is hers again, at least in as far as the current will allow: she knows she's far too close to the falls to have a hope of driving the sub back to the jetty on its own power, but she might be lucky enough to get to the edge of the river.

The sub slams against another rock, bouncing and rolling off it with a loud crunching sound, and for a moment the spotlights are again pointing in the direction of the fight. Ainsley hears terrifying screams and looks into the distance...

...and immediately wishes she hadn't. She did not need to see the two ice mermaids fighting over Sam's corpse like dogs over a bone. She realises the sound of hysterical screaming must be her.

She stops. And focuses. And drives towards the edge of the river.

Two metres below the surface she runs aground, feeling the sub wedge between two large rocks. She is not going to move the sub any further, but it's okay: a trough between waves exposes the top of the dome to air, and moonlight.

At the next trough, she pops the dome, clutching at her ears as the pressure equalises with a clap and the icy water rushes in. She hisses against the numbing cold and pushes herself up. It's all she can do to scramble onto one of the rocks next to the sub.

Under the moonlight she realises where she is. She sees the bowl of the volcanic crater from a whole new perspective, since this is where the river begins its rush down to the void of the sinkhole and no one with any sense would ever willingly come here. If she had gone much further, the sub would likely have just bounced over the top of any rocks in the way.

Eyes warily searching the water, Ainsley moves from rock to slippery rock until she climbs up onto the bank, but it's not enough to make her feel safe.

She knows there is a horse trail somewhere around here, and from there she'd be able to find her way home. Perhaps, in the security of her homestead and her sister's company, she might find something resembling sanity. Or maybe she would just pack a bag and be gone from this place. Either way, she was on the edge, and her mind was in pieces: she couldn't take any more of this.

She ran all the way back.

***

High in the branches of the century-old oak tree, and bathed in frigid lake air, something moved. Its hooves were shoed as they always had been, but they swung freely in the air. The skinless legs galloped, but found no purchase.

As it was dying, the mare called Josie whinnied with pain. She did not understand why she was high in the air, skewered by tree branches. She did not understand why those other creatures had been so cruel to her.

She only hoped her favourite rider would return to her before too long: the woman who always fixed the pain, and gave her carrots. She would know what to do.