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here."
    "We are. Now. The others, they left before you came to the islands."
    "Why? Where are they?"
    She tilted her head dreamily. "In the far, far ocean where the whales play and the humans revere the sea."
    Her voice held echoes of longing. Andrew looked at her closely. "Why didn't you go with them?"
    "Because of Margareen."
    "But she's not your mother."
    She smiled softly. "No," she said, drawing the word out as she folded her arms together. "She is not my mother. She is Margareen, and I must stay with her."
    "Why? If no other Merfolk felt they must stay, why must you? And why doesn't she go?"
    She looked at him with wide-eyes. "But this is Margareen's place, and I stay because it is expected."
    "By whom? The other Merfolk?"
    She canted her head, considering the question. "I do not know. I never wondered," she shrugged in human fashion. "It merely was."
    Andrew thought it likely that Margareen made it seem proper, the thing to do like his own father was wont to do with his edicts. Andrew left, like, he suspected, did the other Merfolk. That did not help those who could not fight, who were caught in the situation, as Loreanne or others of his family in England who didn't know how to resist the tyrannical selfish old man.
    When he'd come to the islands he'd been a parasite, an existence in contrast to his father's control. With time boredom turned to curiosity, and curiosity turned his attention to the estate, its people and their problems. He improved their housing, their food, and their water supply. Then he improved their working methods. Tauton, the estate agent bemoaned the certainty of the earl's displeasure at Andrew's expenses, but when the estate revenues improved, his countenance became wreathed in smiles and he'd declared he'd always been certain Andrew had the right ideas. Andrew let him pander, for his attention had turned away from the estate. He'd become restless. Was that the reason Loreanne could invade his dreams?
    He pushed his wondering out of his mind as they came to the caverns full of the human world.
    They gathered canvas and rope, wood, and a mallet. They opened barrels to discover salt, sugar loaves, indigo, and centuries old rum. Andrew wiped out a dented tankard and sampled the liquor, pronouncing it drinkable as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He passed the tankard to Loreanne and laughed when she sputtered and gasped on the fiery alcohol. In an ornately carved casket he found gold chains and strands of pearls that he draped over Loreanne. They gleamed against the dark, rough brown monk robes. With a shy blush on her cheeks, Loreanne gave him a small jeweled Spanish dagger. It was a costly frivolous item, but he belted it at his waist.
    Loreanne picked up item after item, asking Andrew their purpose. Her child-like curiosity delighted him, as did her frowns at the bullet mold, her laughter at the pointed shoes, her delight at the chicken skin fan. She shook her head over the horse shoe, and the razor. The items in the various caverns must have represented two hundred years of man's presence in the islands.
    When he found the canvas awl and the rough nails he began to formulate an idea for a floating throne, a U shaped raft with a canvas sling in the center of the "U".
    They carried their finds down to the rocky ledge at the cavern entrance. At first Loreanne was silent, doing as Andrew told her without comment, then as the raft began to take shape, she began to ask questions.
    "May I try?" she finally asked, after she watched another nail join two boards together.
    Andrew grinned with anticipated amusement as he passed the mallet and nails to her then sat back on his heels. The little mermaid's brow furrowed and she caught her tongue sideways between her teeth as she steadied the nail with one hand and held the mallet with the other.
    Her expression caught at his heart. "Be careful you don't hit your hand," he cautioned, his voice unnaturally raspy. He cleared his throat and