Silent Mermaid: A Retelling of The Little Mermaid (The Classical Kingdoms Collection Book 5)

by Brittany Fichter

  Rebellion pushed her eyes open as she decided to prove her aunt wrong. Tomorrow she was going to see him. And she might even let him see her.

  10

  In My Bones

  Arianna was awake before the sun the next morning. Her anger from the night before had filled her with a resolve to visit the Sun Palace once again. She needed to think. But first, she needed more waxy leaves, and the leaves were kept in a storehouse deeper than Arianna’s usual depth. Renata was usually the one to fetch items kept so deep. Arianna was determined to spend the day alone, however, so she was left with no other option but getting them herself.

  As she was ready to swim out the window, however, her aunt’s muffled voice came through the door. “I know you’re angry with me . . .”

  Her aunt’s penitent tone did nothing to sway Arianna from her plans. She simply removed her conch necklace and placed it on her bed. The last thing she wanted to do was take Renata’s voice with her.

  “ . . . but please be careful. My songs have picked up more than one large creature moving near the western outskirts, most likely from the storm we had two nights ago.”

  Arianna adjusted her camicett in the mirror. It was probably just another small whale or sea cow, like the last creatures Renata had felt, Arianna wanted to reply. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to warning tales.

  “They’re fast,” Renata urged through the door.

  But Arianna was gone before her aunt could say another word. Still, as angry as she was with her aunt, Renata’s warning put Arianna on edge as she swam over the ruins of her once-beautiful city. The mansion that overlooked the hundreds of homes on the seafloor had been a rainbow of coral colors, shining in even the dim waters with its pearl finishes, sparkling with the gems set on balconies and scattered on the rooftops.

  Where the Nurturers had once kept the coral colors aligned, however, and the Healers had fixed the occasional hole or injury to its walls, war and neglect had now taken their toll. Gaping holes and complete collapse had befallen some of the palace’s grandest walls and rooflines. In other areas, the coral had far exceeded its original limits and was growing out of control, like tumors on the side of the palace walls. And so it was for the rest of the houses below as well. The boulders dropped by the Sun Crown’s navy had made sure of that.

  It was tempting to use her newfound ability to dive deeper to revisit the places her parents and siblings spent their days in. Arianna might even find a few useful items here and there for herself and her aunt. But she knew better than that. The mansion and the houses were too closed off. Without the guards weaving their songs of protection around the Deeps to hold the monsters in, there could be any number of vile creatures waiting for her in the buildings’ nooks and crannies. Arianna’s anger at her aunt pushed her forward, but with Renata’s warning still ringing in her ears, Arianna pushed down her rage just enough to move on to her original destination.

  The waxy leaves were in a storehouse at the western end of the desolate city. Arianna shivered a bit as the buildings behind the mansion began to thin out. The water grew colder as she moved deeper, and the ocean was suddenly too open. She felt exposed to unseen eyes as she swam down toward the large storehouse.

  In order to distract herself from imagining all the horrible beasts that might be lurking in the shadows below, Arianna imagined what it would be like to picnic with the prince. The idea surprised her somewhat. With her impending journey to Gemmaqua, Arianna had done all she could to put Prince Michael out of her head. After her last glimpse of him out on the terrace, she had kept herself below the waves. But her revelation the night before seemed to have awakened a new hunger in her. She had always been lonely. But this kind of yearning was new, and strong.

  What would it feel like to have a man choose her? To walk on the beach holding hands? To talk and laugh? To know she was his choice above all other women?

  The weight of the sea threatened to crush Arianna as she moved even deeper, but the pressure was not the reason that she stopped seven fathoms from her destination. A song floated in on the water. It was her aunt’s song. But this time it was louder and fiercer than ever.

  Arianna whipped around and bolted back as fast as her fins would push her. The song lasted only seconds. The return trip, however, took an agonizing length of time. More than ever, Arianna cursed her weak fins as she strained until her skin grew hot and she gasped for the air that suddenly seemed too hard to pull from the water.

  Though she knew it couldn’t be done, Arianna tried to call her aunt’s name. All thoughts of the creatures lurking below disappeared as she fled back to her tower. The rock wall into which their little home was carved grew nearer at a painfully slow pace, but Arianna slowed abruptly when she finally came close.

  Something was definitely inside. She could hear its low grunts as it bumped into the furniture. Only then did it occur to her that she had nothing with which to fight. Without even a basic protection koros, all she wore at her side was the little knife she used to cut kelp. Barely longer than her hand, it wasn’t even that sharp. And yet, Arianna took a shaking breath and pulled it from her belt.

  Sneaking in through her bedroom window, Arianna was thankful that her door was open just a crack. Her aunt must have come in after she’d left, probably to wait for her return. Arianna floated just inches above the stone floor as she peeked through the crack. It was still dark enough that she had to squint to make out even the low table her aunt used for cutting.

  A strange scent filled the air, a mixture of sulfur and . . . Was that blood?

  The door banged open, hitting Arianna in the face. Her own nose began to bleed, but there wasn’t time to staunch it because she was staring into the face of a long creature with salmon-pink frilled gills and diagonal rows of bent, pointed teeth. Its serpentine head seemed to weigh more than the rest of its body. Her heart skipped a beat when she finally met its inky eyes, and she could think only of the merman she’d witnessed from the Deeps. She and the monster stared a moment longer before the frill shark darted forward, its teeth missing her shoulder by inches.

  Arianna threw herself through the open door and tried to close it with her fins. As the shark rammed against it again and again, snapping with its teeth as it did, Arianna looked around desperately for her aunt. Their two clamshell chairs were overturned, as was the table. Several of their eating dishes had fallen to the floor. Containers of kelp had spilled everywhere.

  The shark made a particularly hard bump against the door that snapped Arianna’s attention back to her own fight. With one final push she managed to shut the door, and she was out the window in no time. The shark wasn’t long, however, in escaping through Arianna’s bedroom window, swimming fast in pursuit.

  She went in the only direction she knew how to go, and that was up. Hoping desperately that the sun had risen enough to confine the shark to the lower regions, Arianna continued her ascent. The months below the surface, however, had accustomed her to the medium depths, making her felt a bit lightheaded as she swam. The beast continued behind her. She could hear it crashing through the shallow seaweeds as she tried losing it in the fauna. Higher! She pushed herself. Higher!

  Unfortunately, the seabed was growing shallow much faster than she had expected, and the monster was still following her. Only a few more fathoms and she would be dragging along the sand.

  Legs! she cried silently to the Maker. I need legs! If there were any goodness in him, she reasoned, surely she would see it now. Even if there weren’t, and she died, at least he wouldn’t get to toy with her life anymore. Surely he would want to get more misery out of her by letting her live.

  A sickening crunch sounded behind her. The pain didn’t hit, however, until she glanced back to see the serpentine head hanging off her tail. Arianna tried shaking it off so hard that she nearly hit her own head on a rock. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she grabbed a smaller rock and began to beat the shark upon the head. But the shark still hung on. In one last effort to save h
erself, Arianna gathered all of her remaining strength and raised her knife above the shark’s eye nearest her.

  Whether the shark knew what she planned to do or simply decided she wasn’t worth the struggle, it finally let go, its head raised and its tail swishing back and forth as it slithered back toward the deeper seas.

  A new pain racked Arianna’s body. This pain, however, was familiar, and she looked down to find not a bleeding fin, but a bleeding ankle.

  Crawling far enough on to the sand that the brutal waves wouldn’t continually assault her injury was the hardest thing Arianna had ever done. Before she could rest, however, a voice in her head that sounded much like her aunt’s told her to look down at herself.

  Unfortunately for Arianna, the camicett she had chosen to wear that day was not as long as the mourning garb she’d donned five years before. And though Arianna knew little of human culture or customs, she did know that human females never walked about without clothing their bottom halves. The best that she could do, however, was to pull a pile of seaweed on top of her spent, bleeding body. Then the world began to tilt as she leaned back and tried to slow her breathing. But little assuaged her pain, nor was she able to quiet the truth that for the first time in her life, she was really, truly alone.

  11

  Untimely Surprises

  “So let me get this straight,” Michael said, rubbing his face. “Our other creditors are willing to extend the loans, but the Tumenians are not?”

  “He says if we cannot repay him by the summer solstice, he will be coming to collect his due,” Master Russo said, his graying curls shaking slightly. He was speaking to Michael, but his eyes were trained on Lucas.

  “As if we would allow him to waltz in and take the kingdom without question or objection,” Lucas muttered, tapping the hilt of his sword with his forefinger.

  “If we are so desperate by solstice, that is exactly what we will do,” Michael said. Lucas and Master Russo turned to look at him incredulously, but Michael shrugged and stood. “Grandfather made the deal. Do I have any choice left other than to honor his word?”

  Lucas blanched. “You cannot seriously suggest we just hand Maricanta over to him on a platter! You have not seen Tumen, brother, but I have traveled enough to know more than I wish to about that country. You have no idea what kind of darkness—”

  “I know exactly what kind of evil they harbor!” Michael snapped. Then he bent over, leaning one hand on his desk and running the other through his hair. “Look,” he said in a calmer tone, “I detest the blasted contract more than anyone else in the kingdom. You don’t think I loathe the idea of handing the Sun Crown over to the vilest despot in the western kingdoms? But I cannot change the law. No allies would come to our aid if we fought. We have no money and few weapons. Besides,” he let out a deep breath, “we made a deal. And don’t give me that look, Lucas. Your men are well trained, but they cannot defeat the Tumenian forces alone. There are too few of us, and you know that.”

  “If we are able to keep them from entering the isthmus, surely our navy could hold them off in the bay,” Lucas said as he stalked back from the window he’d been staring out. “They’re a landlocked people. Their navy can’t be finer than ours.”

  “I’m sure it’s not. I am also sure they have more than enough funds to hire a mercenary navy twice the size of ours.”

  “King Everard would come to our aid!” Master Russo’s eyes brightened. “He has a good heart.”

  “But he is also a just king, and one I have asked far too many times for an extension on our loans. No, I am afraid we will need to pull ourselves from this hole. Without,” Michael made eye contact with his younger brother, who was still fiddling with his sword, “breaking our word or plunging us into a war we can’t fight.”

  “If only we could forge some new trade agreements with—” Master Russo began, but Michael interrupted him.

  “And trade with what?” Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “Without the merpeople, we have no pearls, sponges, kelp, or even shells to keep the merchants interested. And we can barely produce enough food to feed ourselves, let alone have a surplus to trade.”

  Lucas began to protest, but a flash of red at the window caught Michael’s eye. He suppressed a smile as his eldest niece motioned excitedly for him to follow her.

  “I’m afraid something has just come up that needs immediate attention.” He pushed his chair beneath the desk.

  Lucas and the steward looked at one another and then at Michael as though he’d lost his mind, but Michael only grinned and leaned toward them over his large stone desk. “In the meantime, I suggest that instead of planning a war, you two discuss ways to actually pay the Tumenians back so none of this doomsday talk must come to pass.”

  Claire couldn’t have come at a better time. Perhaps after some little adventure with the girls, Michael’s tired mind would stumble upon a miracle strategy to save his people from his grandfather’s foolishness. His steps echoed down the pearl floor as he headed for the garden door, and it occurred to him that if he didn’t find a way to pay back his grandfather’s loans, the Sun Palace with its smooth pearlescent floors, shell mosaic walls, and glass ceilings would be the boasted bounty of the most despised king in the western realm.

  Still, he was strangely buoyant as he stepped out of the palace and into the garden. He fully expected two shiny sets of curls to come bouncing toward him. But instead, there was only one.

  “Where is your sister?” he asked as he looked around the garden.

  “She’s waiting with the surprise.”

  “What surprise?”

  “The one I need you to see.” Claire grasped his hand and began to drag him behind her, but Michael stopped the girl and turned her to face him.

  “Hold on. You know I’m very glad to see you, but you’re only supposed to interrupt me if there is something urgent going on that cannot wait. Is this one of those instances?” He raised an eyebrow. Despite his personal relief at leaving the horrid meeting with his brother and steward, Michael did his best to appear at least decently consistent with his nieces.

  Claire nodded solemnly, her eyes wide.

  “Well, can you tell me what it is then?”

  “I think,” she paused, suddenly sounding much older than her nine years, “that it might be best if you simply see. It is difficult to explain.”

  Michael chuckled and shook his head. “Fine then. Lead the way.”

  What the two girls were up to, Michael had no idea. They had been particularly adventurous since their nurse had been let go two days before, a point he still had not had the courage to inform his mother about. The girls had climbed trees, buried themselves in the sand, and tried on all of their grandmother’s clothes . . . an act that had nearly sent their even-tempered housekeeper into fits. As Claire led him from the garden into the trees, however, Michael felt an uneasiness tugging at him. He suddenly wished he’d brought his knife along. Lucas was always scolding him about forgetting it.

  “I specifically told you two to stay in the garden,” he said, nearly smacking his face on a branch as she hurried him along. “What in the blazes were you doing out here?”

  “Lucy saw something in the water,” Claire replied, not slowing at all.

  Michael considered stopping her then and there to set her straight, but without Lucy, he would only have to give the tirade twice. Besides, his youngest niece being alone and, it seemed, quite close to the beach made him even more nervous.

  “You left her alone all the way out here?” he demanded as they approached an opening in the trees.

  “Not alone.” Claire finally stopped and turned to look at him, her heart-shaped face innocent as she gestured to the beach. “With her.”

  Just at the edge of the water, a young woman sat in the sand. She wore a strange sort of tightly fitted blouse and was half covered in a pile of seaweed. Their eyes locked.

  It was her. Without a doubt, this was the same girl who had stared down at him five yea
rs before, not far from where they stood.

  No. It couldn’t be. And yet, he knew those pale blue eyes.

  His face burned crimson, however, as he took in the rest of her and whirled back around to face the forest. He hadn’t looked long enough to be sure, but the young woman also appeared to be half-naked.

  “What . . . ?” he tried to regain control of his thoughts. “Miss . . . are you hurt?”

  When there was no response, he repeated the question, only to be met with silence again. He turned to Claire, who still stood just at his elbow, looking as if the day was as normal as ever.

  “I don’t think she can talk,” Claire said. “Has she said anything, Lucy?”

  “No,” Lucy piped cheerfully.

  “See?” Claire looked back at Michael expectantly.

  “Then . . . can you see if she is hurt?”

  “It looks like her ankle is bleeding.”

  Of course it was. Wait. She had an ankle? But she was a mermaid. How did she have legs now? Though the memory of her face was as clear as any painting, his recollection of the rest of her was less so. He thought he somehow remembered her with fins. But now she had ankles? What was she?

  “If she has legs, then ask her . . . then ask her if she thinks she can walk.”

  Claire laughed. “She can hear us just fine.” She paused. “She’s nodding her head. But I don’t think she looks very good, Uncle. I think you’d better help her.”

  How on earth do I handle this? Michael looked desperately at the skies. I cannot carry a woman who has no clothes, nor can I leave her here alone to bleed. Help me, he prayed.

  After a moment of thinking, he came up with an idea. Michael unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to Claire. “Have her put this on. It’s long enough that it should . . . cover things. You’re a tall girl. Do you think you can help her walk?”

  “I know I can,” was Claire’s impertinent response before she bounded away. “I’m almost as tall as your shoulder.” That was an overstatement, but Michael wasn’t about to argue with the nine-year-old.