After 23 January: An apple a day keeps the doctor away — and glass seems to satisfy mermaids. Every day, our friend Zenobius pays tribute to the sirens, who have gotten increasingly more incensed and agitated, the longer the travellers extend their visit.
As the shards of glass fail to pacify them, the mermaids become ravenous and violent, throwing themselves at coast rock, clawing their way up stone and attempting to come on land. They can survive a few minutes ashore easily, attempting to grab men and animals and to pull them back with them into the water. As they gradually start to scratch and tear at the lighthouse foundation, Zenobius decides to ‘upgrade’ his bribe to the creatures and drafts Zuko and Slick to assist him.
They are taken to the 10th floor, where a wealth of glass and mirror shards awaits. Zenobius instructs the duo to collect some ten-twelve shards of dark mirror glass and to crush it into a powder. Zenobius then coats rags and pieces of wood in molten candle wax, loosely applying the powder on top to create baits.
He instructs Slick and Zuko to go to the coastline and throw a bait into the sea, ideally at a mermaid, every few hours. Some three-four bait pieces should be thrust at the mermaids per day, for two days. If they assist, Zuko and Slick will find that:
■ They become the subject of a great deal of malign attention, with sirens trying to lure them out and cruelly tear them down
■ If they throw bait that falls in the distant sea without reaching a mermaid, the water in a small (100m) radius of the landing spot will turn a gunmetal grey, bubbling and sulphuric, before the strain disperses
■ If the bait falls in shallow water very close to shore, it sinks within sand, burrowing in. If sought or dug out after, the bait is completely devoid of any trace of powder
■ If a mermaid catches the bait, its entire body appears to briefly flash an oily, gunmetal grey. It holds on to the bait, seemingly entranced and enamoured with its capture — before other sirens swarm her, tearing her apart in a battle royale for the bait. About three-four mermaids die every time a bait is caught, and the fighting does not cease until the bait has dropped into the sea.
■ The mermaids appear frantic and anguished every time they have slain their fellows, starting a long song of mourning. They nevertheless cannot help themselves and resume squabbling for bait, whenever a new piece is thrown in.
■ Some of the more ‘socialised’ mermaids attempt to negotiate by mimicking human voices and repeating phrases they’ve heard the lighthouse occupants speak. Their grasp of the vocabulary is clearly crude, clumsy and foreign — like an animal performing a trick for a treat, more than a human being poorly using a new language.
ZUKO AND SLICK
After 23 January: An apple a day keeps the doctor away — and glass seems to satisfy mermaids. Every day, our friend Zenobius pays tribute to the sirens, who have gotten increasingly more incensed and agitated, the longer the travellers extend their visit.
As the shards of glass fail to pacify them, the mermaids become ravenous and violent, throwing themselves at coast rock, clawing their way up stone and attempting to come on land. They can survive a few minutes ashore easily, attempting to grab men and animals and to pull them back with them into the water. As they gradually start to scratch and tear at the lighthouse foundation, Zenobius decides to ‘upgrade’ his bribe to the creatures and drafts Zuko and Slick to assist him.
They are taken to the 10th floor, where a wealth of glass and mirror shards awaits. Zenobius instructs the duo to collect some ten-twelve shards of dark mirror glass and to crush it into a powder. Zenobius then coats rags and pieces of wood in molten candle wax, loosely applying the powder on top to create baits.
He instructs Slick and Zuko to go to the coastline and throw a bait into the sea, ideally at a mermaid, every few hours. Some three-four bait pieces should be thrust at the mermaids per day, for two days. If they assist, Zuko and Slick will find that:
■ If they throw bait that falls in the distant sea without reaching a mermaid, the water in a small (100m) radius of the landing spot will turn a gunmetal grey, bubbling and sulphuric, before the strain disperses
■ If the bait falls in shallow water very close to shore, it sinks within sand, burrowing in. If sought or dug out after, the bait is completely devoid of any trace of powder
■ If a mermaid catches the bait, its entire body appears to briefly flash an oily, gunmetal grey. It holds on to the bait, seemingly entranced and enamoured with its capture — before other sirens swarm her, tearing her apart in a battle royale for the bait. About three-four mermaids die every time a bait is caught, and the fighting does not cease until the bait has dropped into the sea.
■ The mermaids appear frantic and anguished every time they have slain their fellows, starting a long song of mourning. They nevertheless cannot help themselves and resume squabbling for bait, whenever a new piece is thrown in.
■ Some of the more ‘socialised’ mermaids attempt to negotiate by mimicking human voices and repeating phrases they’ve heard the lighthouse occupants speak. Their grasp of the vocabulary is clearly crude, clumsy and foreign — like an animal performing a trick for a treat, more than a human being poorly using a new language.