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

by Brittany Fichter

  The ferocity on Mae’s small, round face was so sharp and her voice so foreboding that Arianna nearly burst out in exhausted, hysterical laughter. Do you hear that? she thought to the Maker. They say you’re not allowed. I’m rather hoping this is one of their rules and not yours.

  “What’s so funny?” Mae asked.

  “Nothing.” Arianna tried to smother her smile. “I’m simply tired and trying to find the bright side of this whole mess.”

  But Mae didn’t smile back. “I can assure you, Princess, that there is nothing bright about this situation. You have made great strides in two days, but if you lose tomorrow, we will all suffer. Including that prince of yours up in the palace.”

  “I am well aware of what is at stake,” Arianna snapped.

  “Well then act like it!”

  “What do you want me to do?” Arianna threw her hands up. “I have hardly slept, thanks to your training regimen. I have done as you’ve said and groveled just like all your other little followers. But I still have no soulsong, and none of your nagging is going to help me get it!”

  “If you try hard enough, you will win!”

  “I am trying!”

  “No you’re not!” Mae began to swim back and forth in short, agitated movements. “I had such hopes for you. You’re young and bright. But your inability to commit is making me wonder now if perhaps we were all wrong. Perhaps you are just an anomaly with deathly hair and sickly eyes.”

  “Wait now . . .” Piero held up his hands, but Mae pushed him aside so she could move closer to Arianna.

  “If you were half the woman the prophecy says you should be, you would be able to forget the sun altogether—”

  “The prophecy never says that!” Arianna shouted. If she had been above the surface, angry, traitorous tears would have been rolling down her face. “You act as though you know what the prophecy means, but do you really? You’re a Grower! A charm smith! Not a holy man! Not a scholar! What if you’re wrong?”

  Mae’s cheeks burned red, and her small fists clenched and unclenched. “I have dedicated my life to this! And if you weren’t so self-centered, you would see all the sacrifices we have been making for you!”

  “For me? Or for yourselves?”

  No one spoke for a long time. Finally, Mae said in a stiff voice, “It’s time to return home. We have a big day tomorrow.” She began to swim away but stopped when no one followed. “Well?”

  Nereza and Piero shared a long look, but Nereza finally followed Mae. Piero, however, stayed beside Arianna.

  “I’m just going to stay here for a while . . . to make sure she knows how to get back.”

  “I meant the princess, too.” Mae’s eyes narrowed. “We have training to do.”

  Arianna crossed her arms and began swimming back toward the palace.

  “Very well. I just hope you remember this when you lose tomorrow and your aunt poisons the hearts of—”

  “I thought you were leaving.”

  Without another word, Mae burst off, leaving a trail of bubbles in her wake. Nereza followed, though at a slightly slower pace. Then it was just Arianna and Piero. Arianna turned sharply and continued swimming until she was halfway between the palace and the arena, where she planted herself firmly on a flat rock. Piero followed and found his own rock a few feet away.

  For a while, neither spoke. Arianna simply sat and listened to the distant songs of the palace and its city, straining to hear any voices that might be remotely familiar. But eventually, guilt got the better of her.

  “I really am trying,” she finally said as she pulled her fins up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

  “I know.”

  Arianna found that she believed him, and was suddenly glad he had decided to stay. There was something calming about Piero. His expressions were as unassuming as his words. It was kind of like being around a seal pup.

  Thankfully, he seemed to understand that for once, she didn’t want to talk. Instead, he let her peer at the palace’s hundreds of balconies and windows without interruption.

  Which one belonged to Renata? Was she keeping him in her chambers? Or had she placed him in the palace dungeon? Arianna strained to see inside the rooms. As the evening light began to dim, algae lanterns were hung inside and out. The lighted rooms made it easier to see inside of them, and she studied each room to see a movement that could be attributed to a human being held captive. But they were far enough away that she had no way of knowing for sure what she saw and what tricks her eyes might be playing on her.

  “Do you have a girl?” she eventually asked Piero.

  Piero started a bit and then looked at the ground. “Y—well, no. She’s a Nurturer in the palace nursery. She doesn’t like me, though. At least . . . I mean, I don’t think she sees me.”

  Arianna turned to study his face. “Why not?”

  Piero gave a little chuckle then gestured at his torso. “I’m not exactly what you might consider a top specimen of merman. Not that Nurturers can’t be. But . . .” he stared listlessly up at the palace. “It sure helps make one closer to visible.”

  “You’ll only be invisible as long as you allow yourself to be.” She shook her head. “I should know.”

  Piero’s eyes widened. “I never thought you could be invisible, Princess. Not even when you were silent. But . . . is something wrong?”

  Arianna gave a short laugh. “I’m competing against my aunt tomorrow in a competition I can’t possibly win. The Maker seems to think it reasonable that I go into a fight without the most essential tool a merperson can own. And for all this, I find my mind possessed by the nagging question as to whether or not it’s possible to love and hate someone as much as I do right now.”

  “Your . . . aunt?” Piero asked slowly.

  Arianna just smiled, and Piero nodded knowingly. But inside, she was no closer to peace than she had been before.

  It would be easiest just to get Michael out of her aunt’s grasp and send him back to Maricanta. Without him and his ridiculous smile around every corner or awaiting Arianna at every mealtime, perhaps she could focus enough to find her soulsong and get on with her life. She could forget about every accidental brush of the hand, every moment on the boat or the beach. There would be no reminders of his arms wrapped around her protectively when the fisherman attacked her. Even the pink frills of the gown he had purchased for her fluttered in her mind whenever she saw coral or anemones of the same color. Whenever Mae had barked out new orders and instructions, she couldn’t help remembering that even when she was silent, Michael had heard her more than anyone here seemed to, even with her voice.

  I’m going into the most dangerous day of my life, she thought up at the palace’s glowing balconies, and every time I need my head clear, you refuse to leave.

  41

  Unsettled

  Michael turned to his dark-haired neighbor. “Why am I here again?” he asked above the din of the colossal court. Hundreds of merpeople filled every seat, and dozens floated in the back where there were no seats to be had. The room was buzzing with anticipation. If only Michael knew for what.

  “We are waiting for the triton competition’s contestant to accept the challenge and begin the test,” the woman answered in a strained voice before turning back to the man on her other side. Was he her husband? Michael couldn’t recall, although he was sure they both looked familiar.

  “But there’s only one? Usually contests have more than one contestant.” Michael frowned. As he did, he noticed several little shells hanging from his neck. “What’s this?” He began to remove them, but the woman yanked the shells’ strings from his hand and placed them firmly back on his chest.

  “Do not under any circumstances attempt to remove those. You’ll be dead in less than a minute.” She glanced up at the domed ceiling above them. “The weight of the water alone will kill you before you run out of air.”

  Michael let the shells be, but he tugged on her thin, gauzy sleeve once more. “But that still doe
sn’t tell me why I’m here.” He glanced down at his trousers. “I’m not a merman.” He also wished he knew why his ears were so sore. He reached up to rub them, but she caught his hand and firmly pulled it back down to his side, her expression darkening. “My sister-in-law has requested the presence of the future Sun Crown at the contest and ensuing coronation in order to bring peace to our peoples.” Her words made sense to Michael, but for some reason, her eyes did not agree.

  Before Michael could ask any more questions, however, a group of men at the center of the stage he was seated on began to hum, low reverberating tones that brought a hush to the audience. The woman beside him stiffened, and Michael began to wonder if there was any reason for him to be on his guard.

  So far, everyone had been very nice to him. Just that morning, an exquisite beauty with hair the color of ebony and skin the color of porcelain had sung him a lovely song. His worries, whatever they had been, had disappeared, and all the pain in his body had gone with them. Then he’d been given a green sash to wear over his left shoulder instead of a shirt. He’d been seated on a stage chair beside the nice lady who answered all of his questions. She wore a sash as well over her strange, shiny shirt, though it was blue instead of green. But for the life of him, Michael couldn’t remember just how he had gotten down to the bottom of the ocean.

  More singing ensued, this time by the merwomen. Their voices were like a silken scarf rising and falling in the wind. Their song had no words, but for some reason, everyone listened intently. At any moment, Michael expected a herald to come out and announce the contest. When no one did, however, five minutes into the song, Michael leaned over to the woman beside him. “What’s happening?”

  She gave a little start, then a frustrated sigh. “I forgot. You can’t understand them. They’re saying that now we are beginning the sacred passage of receiving our new Sea Crown, a leader given by the Maker himself. The triton,” she nodded to the great three-pronged spear that lay on a pedestal of its own at the center of the stage, “will only allow itself to be given to the one who is ready.” At this, her lips tightened at the corners. “When the winner emerges with the triton, we will have a new Sea Crown, and together with the Sun Crown, they can rule and protect the ocean and its shores together, forever.”

  “It sounds like it should be a joyful event,” Michael whispered.

  “It should be.”

  “Then why are you so frightened?”

  She turned to him, and for the first time, her doe-like eyes betrayed a very real fear.

  The tempo and key of the song changed, and the woman looked back at the choir. “They’re getting ready to call the contestants,” she whispered. “Or rather, contestant. Whoever answers the choir’s call and is of the direct lineage of the former Sea Crown may enter.” For a brief moment, Michael thought he saw her throw a glare at the large, gray-bearded man sitting on her other side.

  The choir’s song continued to quicken, and soon it had moved from solemn to nearly frenzied until a voice like a harp wound itself into the melody. Michael leaned forward to see better, as the room had been allowed to fall dark. Aside from the glow of a few lamps with odd little plants inside, there was no light. Little by little, more lanterns were brought in until the woman’s song rose to a crescendo, when the room was suddenly bright enough to see a mermaid’s long, lean form draped all in white as she knelt on her tail before the triton.

  Michael was pleased to recognize her as the woman who had awakened him that morning. Though she had done little more than give his shoulder a shake, he felt his heart swell and his breath quicken. She truly was perfect. Except for the little black circles beneath her eyes that betrayed a lack of restful sleep, there was not a flaw to be seen on her face. Even the way her full red lips moved as she sang back to the choir made him itch to rush over to her and take her in his arms.

  “They’re asking her who she is that she dare lay claim to the throne,” the woman beside him leaned over again. “And she is answering that she is Renata Atlantician, daughter of the former Sea Crown.”

  “I thought only sons could inherit thrones in the western realms, outside of Destin and Cobren.” Tumen had once attempted allowing a daughter to inherit the throne, Michael had heard, but that had turned out quite badly for all involved, including the princess. But where had he learned such a thing? He couldn’t even recall where any of those kingdoms were, or who ruled them.

  “For the kingdoms on dry ground, yes. But if you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly on dry ground, are we?”

  He had no answer for that, so he gave her a grin instead before turning his attention back to the voluptuous beauty still kneeling at the front of the stage. Just as she began to rise, however, a confident smile on her lips, another song echoed through the dome.

  This song was different from Princess Renata’s. Rather than the resonant, confident tones of a harp, this song was thin and delicate, as though the slightest sound might send it shattering to a thousand pieces. But its delicacy was elegant and its charm was exquisite. If crystal could be made into music, this song would be finer than the most expensive jewels.

  With the song entered a young mermaid. Her form was not as defined as Princess Renata’s, nor was her carriage as regal. She wore no flowing white, only a simple lavender shirt with a few flounces on the shoulders. Unlike anyone else Michael had seen that morning, her hair was golden, wrapped in a tight, elegant knot at the back of her head. And if his vision wasn’t betraying him, he was rather sure her eyes were blue. It was the openness of her face, however, that tugged on some part of Michael’s memory and suddenly annoyed him, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Gone were his feelings of perfect serenity. He couldn’t be sure why, but something about the scene before him was wrong.

  “Who is that?” he whispered to his neighbor.

  But his neighbor didn’t answer. Her eyes were the size of sand dollars, and she clutched at the hand of the gray-bearded man beside her. “It’s Ari.” Her words were hardly audible. “Amadeo, she has a voice!”

  As the young woman swam down the aisle between the two halves of the court, her voice was the only sound in the gigantic throne room. Even the choir was silent. Finally, an older woman from the back of the stage swam forward. She had white hair and wore a green sash. “And who are you?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

  “My name is Princess Arianna Fiore del Mare Atlantician, and I am granddaughter of the former Sea Crown. I come to lay claim to the triton of my grandfather. It would be my honor to compete in the contest.”

  The gasp from the audience was loud.

  “You . . . You have a voice.” The woman put her hands over her mouth.

  Obviously. Michael shook his head.

  But the girl looked as though she had expected such a stupid statement. “I do.”

  “And you want to compete?”

  “I do.”

  Michael studied the mermaid closer, trying to discern what about her might merit such pointless questions. As he did, however, she glanced his way. Their eyes locked for one brief second.

  If he had been bothered earlier, now he was unsettled to the core.

  “How old are you, Princess Arianna?” the woman asked, pulling the girl’s attention away from Michael.

  “I turned nineteen years three weeks ago, Your Ladyship.”

  “You know this is a dangerous game you ask to play,” the robed woman said in a soft voice. “You could die in the Deeps. Many older and more experienced than you have.”

  Something inside Michael revolted at the thought of the girl doing something so dangerous. Though he still desperately wanted to touch every inch of the first woman in white, another part of him, the part that she had awakened with those shimmering blue eyes, wanted desperately to protect the girl.

  “I understand,” the young princess said, her voice cracking at the end.

  “Very well then.” The robed woman nodded before returning to the back of the stage. The choir burst into a booming
finale, and the two contestants were quickly ushered out. Michael turned to ask his neighbor what had just happened, but when he did, he found her eyes closed and her lips moving silently.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, gently touching her shoulder.

  The woman turned to him, her face whiter than bone. “Praying for my daughter.”

  42

  The Sun’s Betrayal

  Arianna felt as though someone had stolen her voice once again. As they were led out of the domed throne room, she couldn’t think of the first thing she might say to the beloved aunt who had tried to kill her.

  I’ve missed you. I still use your conch necklace to sing me to sleep at night. My voice appeared without the use of dark powers. Oh, and please refrain from trying to kill me. Again.

  “I see you’ve found your voice.” Renata was the first one to break the silence as four Protectors escorted them into a smaller chamber behind the great throne room. “I’m proud of you.”

  Arianna stopped swimming and looked up at her aunt. “Proud of me? You tried to kill me!”

  “I did no such thing.” Renata’s voice remained cool as she nodded to the guards and waved them out of the room. Before they left, one of them laid a miniature triton spear and a folded pile of clothes by the door. Once they were alone, Renata turned and began to pull off her flowing white garment. “I knew you would turn back, just like you always have. Here, turn around. Let me help you unlace that.”

  Instinctively, Arianna obeyed. “You knew about that?”

  “I would never send you somewhere without keeping an eye on you, Ari. Now what koros did you end up with?”

  “That’s not really your concern.” Arianna shifted uncomfortably.

  “Arianna, look at me.”

  Arianna turned and looked at her aunt as bidden, but she could not smile.

  “I never meant to kill you. I thought that perhaps a few days without your sheltering family or friends might do you some good . . . teach you to see life the way most merpeople do.” She gave Arianna a half-smile and continued unfastening Arianna’s camicett. “I still want you to be a part of the family after this contest is over. I even want you to marry Prince Michael! You just have to understand that life isn’t as simple as you thought. Sometimes, rules must be bent.” She glanced up. “You of all people should understand that.”