She rose out of the sea like the foam-coated goddess Aphrodite, a marine figure of water and sand and unearthly beauty. Cerulean skin burst from the mirror of the surface, and eyes and hair of ocean green met the night air. Then came glinting scales like so many layers of beaten silver. Diamond water droplets caressed the smooth rock she sat upon, a child of the sea on a modest throne that seemed to float atop the lapping waves. With beauty accented by the royal seashells that hung about her neck, she waited. She was his Secret Keeper.

But he was already there. His feet crunched softly on the crusted sand, bare toes impressing their marks as he strode to the edge of the water. The salty ocean soaked the frayed ends of his jeans, but he didn’t halt until the blue brine embraced his waist, and there he stopped, beside her familiar throne.

She smelled of the coral reef, of miles of long swimming and cold water and caressing moonlight that reached just under the surface of the cresting waves. She was there for him, his ethereal muse, his Guardian of Thought and Emotion. She alone could satiate his burning desires and lust for answers.

The shells at her wrists rattled as she lifted a narrow hand and brushed a forefinger disbelievingly across his lips. He was just as unreal to her as she was to him.

“You’ve come,” she whispered, but he kept his eyes on the distant line where the sea met the sky.

“I know. I’m sorry.” His breath came out ragged, his words broken and hesitant.

She withdrew her hand and it dipped into the sea; she swirled her fingers in a curling pattern that made the water shimmer golden in her wake. He smiled, and didn’t need to look to know she was working the rare magic of the sea people. The glimmering rush swept about him, making his bare chest glow a rich copper in the strange light.

“Don’t waste it,” he chided, but his grin grew wider.

She focused her gaze on the horizon, no doubt seeing much farther than he ever could. “And why have you come? Why have you called to me after so long?”

He noticed his chest tightening, as if the tide were drawing in faster than expected, crushing him with its great volume. The water felt unnaturally cold, and he shivered in the midnight breeze.

She remained still. “You aren’t going to answer me.”

He gasped as a sharp wind rocked him, whistling by his ears from the direction of the dark shore. But the weather would not serve as an excuse not to speak.

“On the contrary.” He forced himself to reply, catching the glimmer of scales from the corner of his eye. “I need you for something.”

“I’ve kept all your secrets.” Her voice was barely audible over the hiss and bubble of crashing waves. She spoke again, and the melody carried like notes from a sweet violin. “I kept them until you broke our promise. You told your own secrets to the world by your choice.”

“I know.”

“And you wish for me to keep a new secret?”

His eyes stung, but he would not let the drops fall. “You’re all I’ve got left. And those other secrets didn’t matter anymore.”

He watched as the moon shimmered over the vast ocean, light rippling across the endless liquid stretched before him. The moonbeams glinted off wave peaks, strewing the surface with a blanket of stars that shone more brilliantly than the real ones above. For a moment, the crash of waves muted all other sound.

“Make me a rainbow over the water,” he requested suddenly, meeting her gaze for the first time in many years. Her eyes widened at the unanticipated command.

“Please,” he added, now unable to cease the flow of droplets from his dark eyes. “I haven’t seen you do it in so long.”

Her wet scales glistened as she flicked the shining trail of her fins. The water rippled in a pulsed response; a succession of rings emanated from the source of her graceful movement. From the blue sea was birthed a wide arc, composed of dainty ribbons of color that sparkled in the darkness of the night.

It was unnatural, a rainbow awake and breathing outside the realm of day.

“Do you like it?” she asked him, before blowing softly onto the almost solid vision and wiping it away.

“Why did you banish it so soon?” he asked bitterly. He knew the answer he would receive, and so he did not care when she refused to grace him with a response.

It had been years ago that he’d betrayed her  his Secret Keeper, his mentor, his light in the dark.

“A creature like you will keep a secret safe from harm.” The words tumbled from his lips, riding on the steamy breath that left his mouth and nose and dissipated into the chill night. “A human still has the power to speak his secret aloud, but no longer feels tempted to do so. He is not bothered by its existence. Should he tell it, however, the seal that holds the secret will break, and the soul of the creature that locked it away will be damaged. Marred.” He bit down on his lower lip. “And I have marred your soul.”

“You have.”

He looked once more at her slender, pale arms, her unmoving presence as she perched upon the rough surface of the rock. It was time, it was time to tell his Secret Keeper the entire nature of his visit.

He took a step forward, dragging his heavy limbs through the resistance of the water despite the bite of the dropping temperature. “I have one final secret for you to keep,” he said. “One single request, though I’m not sure it’s what I want.”

“I will trust that you will not make another mistake.”

He allowed his eyes to drift slowly closed. The pressure of the water forced against his legs and torso suddenly felt unbearable. She must have sensed his hesitancy, for her narrow fingers caressed his hair.

“Secrets have many purposes,” she told him, her voice like tinsel and silver bells. “But they are always kept to protect things. A piece of information, an artifact, an opinion, a feeling. What is it you wish to protect?”

His toes had long ago numbed with the ice of the water. “You.”

“Me?” She blinked, and the light of the stars seemed to glimmer in her eyes. “It is me you wish to protect?”

“Yes.” He laughed, almost ironically. “Yes, I want you protected. But can’t you see? I don’t wish for it to be a secret.”

The only response was a low, contented sigh and the ripple of the water’s glass surface.

He met her unearthly stare under the night moon. “I’m done with secrets.”