The Captive Merman’s Promise, by Zoey Castile (aka Zoraida Córdova), is, I guess, a bonkers romance. It’s also gorgeous and heartbreaking and joyous, a wild ride of emotions packed into a slim little package.
Our main characters are Amada Palacios, who consumed and is being consumed by a curse that has haunted her family for generations, and Rónán, the captive merman, once a great warrior, now whittled down to barely surviving within the confines of a saltwater tank in the Oddities of the Abyss, held in the manipulative clutches of the Grand Wizard of the Abyss.
No one here is quite what they seem: Amada introduces herself to the Grand Wizard as Maria; Rónán tries to hide within his tank. The Grand Wizard, meanwhile, is a slow-burn villain, the sort of character whose banal evil gets into the reader’s pores and leaves them shaky and terrified. Yes, dear reader: the Grand Wizard scares the hell out of me, because I have definitely known him. I think most of us have. His viciousness is rooted deep in the patriarchal violence that has led to so many violent attacks, and while his might find root in an ancient, magical curse, it’s not so much different than what many of us live with every day.
Both Amada and Rónán carry pain, twisting agony that bites into both their bodies and their souls. Part of that pain is loneliness, a gap both fear and yearn to bridge. Their initial plan, following the villain’s machinations, is to spend only three days together. (Since this is a romance, you already know that’s not likely.) They are lonely, and profoundly alone: Rónán believes he is the last of his kind left, while Amada left behind her tight-knit family after she took the curse into her own body to spare them. And, because both have been so long alone, they understand something the villain does not, and cannot.
Castile’s use of language is exquisite here, as is her emphasis upon family. We might be away from our family, and our family might be long gone from this plane of existence, but we are still one—and, at least for Amada, the ability to recognize that oneness, to grab hold of the wholeness of family, is a source of tremendous strength. In a short novella, Castile does remarkable things with culture, language, and power, summoning a world both beautiful and tragic before building to a believable, and beautiful, happily-ever-after.
The Captive Merman’s Promise brings together so many of my favorite threads, weaving a tapestry of light and dark, shot through with love and loathing and water, and I will be returning to it often. (And, hey, I’m definitely seeking out Córdova’s YA mermaid books now, as well as her Castile alter ego’s romances.)
Essentially a Nerd 