The Mermaid's Madness

by Hines, Jim C.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  THE SEA JUST AHEAD OF THE SHIP EXPLODED

  in a fountain of white spray.The lead mermaid arched through the air, higher than any of the others had leaped.

  “Lirea,” Queen Beatrice whispered.

  A scream tore from Lirea’s throat, a ragged, furious sound that pierced Danielle’s ears, nearly driving her to her knees. Danielle lurched forward, grabbing Beatrice’s arm and pulling her out of the way as Lirea cleared the railing.

  The mermaid twisted to avoid the lines. She staggered as she landed, ramming the butt of her spear into the deck for balance. Her tails were gone, replaced by feet.

  Before Danielle could move, Lirea leveled her spear at the queen. She coughed, spitting seawater onto the deck, then said, “You’re trespassing in our waters.”

  Danielle started to move between them, but Lirea swung her spear, cutting Danielle’s arm. Blood seeped into her sleeve.

  “You’re looking well, Lirea,” Beatrice said calmly. “Where is your father?”

  Lirea moved closer, driving Beatrice back until she stood against the railing.

  “Your sister?” Beatrice glanced at the main deck, where Armand and the men had already gathered with crossbows and spears.

  “Don’t play games with me,” Lirea said. “I hear everything. I heard you conspiring with Lannadae and my father, just as I hear them planning to attack.” She jabbed her spear into Beatrice’s side, hard enough to make the queen gasp. A small circle of blood darkened Beatrice’s shirt beneath her jacket.

  Lirea turned to face Armand and the crew. “Take another step and she dies.”

  Armand raised his hand. “Let my mother go, and I will—”

  “I am queen of the Ilowkira tribe,” Lirea shouted. “I will speak to your queen and her alone.”

  DAW Books presents these delightful fantasy novels by Jim C. Hines

  THE STEPSISTER SCHEME THE MERMAID’S MADNESS RED HOOD’S REVENGE*

  Jig the Goblin Series:

  GOBLIN QUEST (Book One)

  GOBLIN HERO (Book Two)

  GOBLIN WAR (Book Three)

  *Coming in 2010 from DAW Books

  Copyright © 2009 by Jim C. Hines.

  All Rights Reserved.

  DAW Book Collectors No. 1490.

  DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-14865-5

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  Nearly all the designs and trade names in this book are registered trademarks. All that are still in commercial use are protected by United States and international trademark law.

  First Printing, October

  DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED

  U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES

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  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To Amy

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Douglas Adams once said, “I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.”

  What Adams neglected to mention was the chilling silence that precedes those deadlines. Calm-before-the-storm silence. Cheerleader-in-a-dark-basement-with-the-serial-killer silence. The kind of silence whose only purpose in this world is to give you a few moments to contemplate the horrors preparing to devour you.

  At least, that’s what it felt like back in July of ’08, as I scrambled to finish the fifth rewrite of this book. Mere words cannot express my gratitude toward my wife and children, who put up with me during this time, and enabled me to actually make that deadline. Living with a writer is never easy, and they have been far more patient, understanding, and forgiving than I have any right to expect.

  Thanks also to my agent Joshua Bilmes and my editor Sheila Gilbert, both of whom reassured me that the world would not in fact come to an end if I was late turning in my manuscript. That’s very good to know, especially as I look ahead to my deadline for Red Hood’s Revenge.

  I should also single out Diana Francis Pharaoh, author of the Crosspointe Chronicles series, for her assistance. I knew any book about mermaids would have to take place at sea, but my knowledge of sailing was rather limited. Thank you, Di, for rescuing me from a number of embarrassing mistakes. (At this point, it’s traditional for the author to mention that any remaining mistakes are entirely his or her own, but I think I’m going to blame any goofs on the goblins.)

  Thank you, Josh, Debra, Marsha, and everyone else at DAW who helped bring this series into the world. Special thanks to Scott Fischer, whose cover art still blows my mind.

  Most importantly, my thanks to you, the reader.Thank you for buying the books, for reading the stories, and for sharing them with your friends and family. Thank you for your wonderfully kind letters and e-mails, and thank you for allowing me to continue doing the most awesome job in the world.

  CHAPTER 1

  PRINCESS DANIELLE WHITESHORE OF LORINDAR clung to the rail at the front of the ship, staring out at the waves. If this wind kept up, she might become the first princess in history to welcome the undine back from their winter migration by vomiting into their waters. The weather had been mild for most of the morning, but the skies had changed as the sun passed its peak. It was as if the sea now took a perverse glee in tormenting her.

  “Drink this.” Queen Beatrice’s voice was sympathetic as she climbed up from the main deck, holding a steaming tin mug. She pressed the mug into Danielle’s hand. “Tea laced with honey, just the way you like it.”

  The queen had discarded the royal gowns of court for clothes that bordered on improper. With her dark blue breeches and loose, pale shirt, she could almost have passed for a sailor. A worn blue flat cap covered her hair, save for a few wisps that fluttered by her ear like tiny gray banners. Only her long jacket, decorated with white ribbon and trimmed in gold, marked her as royalty. That and the silver necklace she wore, which held a black pearl the size of Danielle’s thumbnail.

  Anyone could see the queen’s delight at being out to sea. If not for the rules of propriety, Danielle had no doubt Beatrice would right now be climbing the rigging with the crew or manning the crow’s nest to watch for merfolk.

  For undine, she corrected herself. That was what they preferred to be called.

  Casual as Beatrice’s attire was, she looked far more comfortable than Danielle. Danielle’s handmaids had packed for her, and they apparently had as little experience at sea as Danielle herself. The heavy cloak and cream-colored gown might have been acceptable for a casual day back at the palace. Here on the ship, she was constantly struggling to avoid tripping over her own skirt. Spray from the waves clung like tiny glass beads to the purple velvet of her cloak. She was tempted to ask permission to raid th
e queen’s wardrobe.

  For the moment, she merely sipped her tea and did her best to keep from throwing up. The honey wasn’t enough to mask the more pungent taste of ginger and other spices.

  “Too strong?” asked Beatrice.

  “Not at all.” Danielle forced herself to take another drink. She had grown spoiled over the past year. Living with her stepmother and stepsisters, she had been lucky to brew the occasional cup of lukewarm tea using leftover leaves, and honey was a luxury remembered only from her most distant childhood.

  Beatrice laughed. “Snow never has learned to make proper tea.”

  “What did she put in here?”

  “I’ve learned it’s best not to ask. She said it would help your stomach.”

  Though Snow White’s culinary skills left much to be desired, Danielle trusted her. Snow had saved her life the year before, after all. The least Danielle could do was drink her overly pungent tea.

  If nothing else, the tea helped wash the salty taste of the sea from her mouth. She took another sip, then turned to watch the Lord Lynn Margaret following in the distance. The Saint Tocohl trailed them on the opposite side, the three ships forming an elongated triangle in the sea.

  “You’ll adjust.” Beatrice clapped a hand on Danielle’s back in a manner more fitting a deckhand than the queen of Lorindar. “I do feel for you. I’ve never suffered from seasickness, but when I was pregnant with Armand, I spent three months unable to eat anything more exciting than oatmeal. Even then, it was an even wager whether I would keep the oatmeal down.”

  “Yet in spite of your sympathy, you still chose to inflict this misery on me?” A year ago, the mere thought of joking with the queen would have driven Danielle to her knees to beg forgiveness. Now she narrowed her eyes in mock anger. “I never imagined such cruelty from you, Your Majesty.”

  The laugh lines on Beatrice’s face deepened. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “If I wanted you ill, I’d let your husband take the helm.”

  Danielle grinned and shaded her eyes as she turned to search for the prince. Though Beatrice had formally given command of the ship over to her son, Prince Armand had yet to take the wheel. The last time Danielle saw him, he had been inspecting the cannons on the right side of the main deck.

  The starboard side. Armand had inherited his mother’s love of sailing, and while they both tried to hide it, neither Beatrice nor Armand could conceal their amusement when Danielle stumbled over yet another nautical term.

  Beatrice folded her arms on the railing and leaned out, peering into the water. “I spared you this voyage in the fall when Jakob was born, but there are limits. King Theodore can avoid these journeys if he chooses, but as future queen of Lorindar, you must be presented to the undine.”

  Her words brought Danielle’s nausea back in full force. She gulped the rest of her tea and took a deep breath.

  “Also, it was past time you set foot on this marvelous galleon.” Beatrice’s eyes positively twinkled. “It was named in your honor, after all.”

  “Yes, I know.” Danielle remembered her horror the first time Armand broke the news. “They couldn’t come up with anything better than the Glass Slipper?”

  The queen shrugged. “I’m told the Midnight Pumpkin was also discussed.”

  “Midnight pumpkin? There was no pumpkin! I never—” Danielle caught herself. “You’re teasing me again.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Danielle frowned. Beneath the queen’s exuberance, she sounded distracted. Her smile faded too quickly, and she kept turning away. Normally, Beatrice gave her undivided attention to whomever she was with, whether that was an emperor or a stable hand. “Bea?”

  “Does the tea help?” Beatrice asked without looking up.

  Danielle nodded. “Why didn’t Snow make some when we first left?”

  Another absent smile. “Over one hundred young, strong, hardworking sailors crew the Glass Slipper. You should be grateful Snow remembered you at all.”

  From a platform near the top of the front mast—the foremast—came a shout. “Undine ahead!”

  All at once men were racing about, hauling ropes and furling the sails. From the quarterdeck, Armand cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Ease away tack and bowline! Stand by to take in fore topsail!” He waited a beat, watching the men work, then yelled, “Haul taut, and up topsail. Stand by on main topsail!”

  He might as well have been speaking a foreign language, but Danielle could hear Beatrice whispering the commands along with him.

  Danielle leaned back, studying her husband. His sleeves were pushed back, exposing the lean muscles of his arms. Armand had allowed his dark hair to grow longer over the winter, and Danielle still hadn’t decided whether or not she liked the new beard. It filled out his narrow features, but tended to tickle at inopportune times.

  Smiling at the memories, Danielle edged around the foremast to the very front of the railing, trying to stay out of the way as the crew climbed up to take in the sails. Nobody had ever warned Danielle how crowded a ship could be. The three masts—four if you counted the bowsprit spearing out from the front of the ship—all trailed ropes and rigging, as though a giant spider had spun its web over the entire ship. With eight cannons secured to the main deck, as well as the longboats, there was hardly room for two men to pass each other.

  Danielle watched as her friend Talia made her way across the deck. The chaos didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. She glided through the crew as though she had been born at sea, though from what Danielle knew of Talia’s past, she hadn’t even set foot on a sailing ship until her late teens, when she fled her desert kingdom in the south.

  Shortly after Talia’s birth, fairies had bestowed upon her a number of gifts, not the least of which was supernatural grace. Danielle might have been jealous if she hadn’t also known the price Talia paid for those gifts. Few knew the true story of Sleeping Beauty, how her century of slumber had been broken by an awakening to make nightmares pale.

  “Are you ready?” Beatrice asked, drawing Danielle’s attention back to her responsibilities as princess.

  “Does it matter?” She knew she shouldn’t be nervous. All she had to do was stand there . . . stand there and represent the entire kingdom of Lorindar. She who had spent most of her life in rags, with only the birds and the rats for company. Her short time as princess of Lorindar couldn’t overcome a lifetime as Cinderwench, and there were still times she thought this new life a dream, an illusion to be swept away come midnight.

  “Not really, no.” Beatrice gave her a reassuring smile.

  To the undine, nobility flowed from mother to child, so it was the queen who was most revered. The former queen of the undine had passed away several seasons earlier, leaving the husband to rule, but they still expected to be greeted by the queen of Lorindar. The queen, and now the princess as well.

  Danielle should have been presented the year before, but she had been touring the kingdom with Armand when the undine returned to Lorindar’s waters. She had planned to see the undine in the fall, when they left for warmer waters to the south. Her stepsisters had ruined that plan, kidnapping Armand and enslaving Danielle, then trying to steal her unborn child. Even after Danielle returned home, she had been in no condition for a voyage at sea.

  She touched her stomach, remembering the dark magic her stepsister Stacia had used to rush her pregnancy along. Danielle had been terrified of what that magic would do to her son. She still thanked God every night that Jakob had been born healthy. No healer could find the slightest problem, and even Snow assured her he was free of any taint or curse.

  Beatrice took her hand, gently guiding Danielle to the railing at her right. “Lorindar is fortunate to have such a princess.” Turning back toward Armand, she raised her voice. “Lorindar would do well to have a less distracted prince, though. Hurry, Armand!”

  Armand was already making his way toward the bow. Etiquette didn’t actually require his presence. Indeed, he could have stayed b
ehind with King Theodore, who was known to have the same reaction to sailing as Danielle. But Armand was his mother’s son, and he rarely passed up the opportunity to sail.

  Behind him, two sailors lugged a watertight wooden chest, sealed as firmly as the ship’s hull with pitch and beeswax.

  By tradition, Lorindar presented the undine a gift each year to welcome them back from their winter migration. For as long as King Posannes had ruled, that gift had been a chest of strawberry preserves. Last year, Posannes had given Beatrice the pearl she now wore, saying he had gotten the better part of the deal.

  “Man the yards!” Armand shouted. The crew in the yards came to attention, arms held back so they could grasp the ropes for balance. It was an impressive salute, over fifty men stretched out on the horizontal beams which held the now-furled sails.

  Talia climbed onto the forecastle, then stepped aside to make room for Armand to follow. The prince leaned down to haul the chest after him, aided by the men below.

  “There.” Beatrice rested one hand on the rail as she pointed toward the distant shapes. “Where is Snow? I wanted her here as well.”

  If not for Beatrice, Danielle would have mistaken the undine for rocks in the water. Only their heads and shoulders broke the surface. They swam in an inverted V formation, reminding her of geese.

  Without warning, they disappeared beneath the water.

  “What happened?” asked Danielle.

  Armand stepped toward her, sliding one hand around her waist. Such informality would have earned stern words from the chancellor back at the palace, but such rules were less important here at sea. Danielle leaned against him, the warmth of his body a pleasant contrast to the cool winds. He pointed to the waves where the undine had vanished. “Watch.”