The lead undine launched into the air, arching over the water and disappearing with hardly a splash. Two more followed, leaping even higher than the first. Faster and faster they flew from the water in pairs, so close Danielle was amazed they didn’t collide.
“There are more than I remember,” Armand commented. “I wonder if another tribe has joined with Posannes’.”
“Perhaps,” Beatrice said, frowning.
Armand flashed a boyish grin as he turned around. “Load the cannons!”
On either side of the main deck, men jammed long rods down the cannons, packing the powder into the barrels. They hadn’t bothered to haul cannonballs up onto the deck, as this was only a show for the undine.
“Wait.” Beatrice was still studying the water, though the undine were too far away to make out any detail.
“Hold!” Armand shouted. To his mother, he asked, “What is it?”
“I’m not sure.” Beatrice sounded troubled, but uncertain. She started to say more, then shook her head.
Armand watched Beatrice a moment longer, then turned back to the crew. “Ready salute!”
The men used ropes and pulleys to haul the cannons into position at the edge of the deck, the barrels protruding through wide gaps in the railing.
Armand glanced at the queen again. When she didn’t speak, he raised his arm and shouted, “Fire!”
At each cannon, men brought long poles with burning fuses over the cannons. The resulting explosions sent a shudder through the Glass Slipper. The cannons bucked from the recoil, straining at the ropes. Dark smoke billowed from the sides of the ship. Danielle wrinkled her nose at the burned-metal smell.
“I’m sorry,” Armand said, still smiling. His tone sounded not the slightest bit apologetic. “I forgot to tell them to only use half a charge.”
“Yes. I seem to recall you ‘forgetting’ last year, too.” Beatrice shook her head. “Your eyes are younger than mine. Do any of you see King Posannes?”
Talia stepped to the railing on Beatrice’s left, peering through the smoke. “Not yet. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I hope,” said Beatrice. “But you should get down to the main deck. All of you.”
By now, the breeze had begun to clear the worst of the smoke, and the undine were close enough for Danielle to make out individuals through the haze. Their skin was a deep tan, a few shades lighter than Talia’s. Most were bare-chested, the men and women both, though a few wore tight-fitting gray skins that left their arms uncovered. Some wore weapons, mostly knives and slender fishing spears, secured to harnesses around their arms and chests.
A single mermaid surfaced ahead of the rest.
“Who is that?” Armand stepped past his mother, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Where is Posannes?”
“Armand, I said—” Beatrice’s lips tightened. “Talia, get him out of here.”
Armand moved to the railing. “If there’s a threat, I have to—”
He yelped in surprise as Talia kicked the back of his knees. She caught his collar as he dropped, dragging him toward the ladder.
Armand reached around to grab her wrists, trying to pry her hands free. With a shrug, Talia released her grip, dropping him. Armand lurched to his feet, and Talia shoved him backward. His heel hit the chest of preserves, and he fell again, tumbling down onto the main deck below.
“Talia!” Danielle peered down to see her husband sprawled atop two fallen crewmen. “Are you all right, Armand?”
“He should be. I aimed him at a deckhand.” Talia hopped over the chest, following him down.
“You too,” Beatrice said to Danielle. “Quickly. Get Snow.”
Danielle started to obey, then turned back to take the queen’s hand. “If there’s danger, you should leave too.”
Beatrice shook her head. “Please, Danielle.”
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. Perhaps her twin tails gave her greater strength, or maybe the others had simply held back.
“Lirea,” 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. Even as Danielle watched, the fins running down the outside of Lirea’s legs flattened against the skin and disappeared. The scales on her feet and ankles sank into her skin, leaving faint trickles of watery blood. The rest of her scales remained, like purple mail protecting her legs and waist.
Lirea was thinner than the other undine. Her skin clearly outlined her ribs and collarbone. Had she been human, Danielle would have guessed her to be in her late teens. A worn harness crossed between small breasts. A dagger hung on one side of the harness, the handle jutting forward. She wore a necklace of polished oyster shells that appeared far too large for her slender form. A small gold hoop shone in one ear.
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.”
Her voice was hoarse, as if she were recovering from a nasty cold. 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. Lirea glanced at the chest. With a look of disgust, she placed a foot against the chest and shoved. It slid from the forecastle and crashed onto the main deck. “We are undine. We have no need for human fruits. If you wish to travel our ocean in peace, you’ll bring us gold. Gold and my sister.”
“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.
“It’s nothing,” Beatrice whispered, waving Danielle back.
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.”
“You killed Posannes.” Beatrice ignored the weapon pressed against her ribs. “Just as you killed Levanna.”
Water dripped down Lirea’s face, making it appear that she was crying. “They betrayed me. Every day, the waves whisper of their treachery.”
Motion near the rigging caught Danielle’s attention.Talia was climbing one of the lines on the port side. She was already high enough to jump to the forecastle, but even Talia wasn’t fast enough to stop Lirea before she could kill Beatrice. Not without something to distract the undine.
Danielle knew little of ships, but she had been to the docks often enough to see the rats climbing the ropes and scurrying over barrels and crates, just as she had seen the cats prowling the docks in search of prey. Every vessel was home to far more than the crew.
All of Danielle’s life, animals had helped her. Doves and rats assisted with her chores, cleaning the fireplace or picking slugs from the gardens. Years later, those same doves had blinded her stepmother and scarred her stepsisters. When her stepsisters kidnapped her, the rats had helped her escape.
It was then, imprisoned by her stepsisters, that she had learned to speak to the animals without words. She didn’t know how or why they understood her. Perhaps it was another gift from her mother
, like the glass slippers and the silver gown she had worn to the ball. All Danielle knew was that they came to her aid.
Never taking her eyes from Lirea, she called in silence. Help me, my friends.
“Your father told me what happened to you,” Beatrice was saying. “He wanted to help you.”
“I’ve had enough ‘help.’ ” Lirea’s words were like needles stabbing deep into Danielle’s ears. “Give me Lannadae, and we will allow you to return home. Refuse and we will hunt you all, from the smallest fishing boat to your mightiest warship.”
Beatrice bowed her head. “Your father loved you, but he was no fool. How did you do it, Lirea? How did you kill him?”
“He forced me to it!” There was no mistaking the tears trailing down her cheeks now. “He thought of me as a twisted freak, a perversion who should have been left to die. I know what he would have done if I hadn’t stopped him.”
“He only wanted you to be well again. To be happy.” Beatrice started to reach for the spear. Lirea tensed, and Beatrice drew back her hand.
“That’s what he told me,” Lirea said. “But I heard the truth behind his words.”
A stifled exclamation from the main deck drew Danielle’s attention to the three rats scrambling up the ladder. Armand had grabbed another crewman, stopping him from crying out. Armand met Danielle’s eyes and nodded. Armand was unarmed, but a twitch of his finger signaled the others to ready their weapons.
Lirea didn’t notice as the rats climbed the starboard ladder onto the forecastle and raced through the puddles left by her arrival.
Hurry.
Lirea spun, thrusting the long horn on the end of her spear at Danielle’s stomach. “Surrender Lannadae, or we will kill your crew, starting with this one.”
Danielle raised her head, trying to match the queen’s calm, though her hands were shaking.
“Killing her won’t end your pain.” For the first time, anger hardened the queen’s words.
Danielle readied herself. Now!
The first rat sank his teeth into the back of Lirea’s unprotected ankle. At the same time, Danielle swept her arm up, knocking the spear away.
Lirea stumbled toward the railing as a second rat latched onto the side of her foot. She swung her spear, striking the third rat.
“Take her!” Armand yelled, grabbing the ladder.
Talia was faster. She dropped to the forecastle and kicked low to sweep Lirea’s legs from beneath her. While Lirea recovered, Talia grabbed Danielle’s arm and flung her into Armand. The two of them fell together, to be caught by the crew below.
Armand jumped to his feet and grabbed a crossbow from one of the men. “If you get a clear shot, take it.”
“Your Highness, the undine are attacking the ship!”
Armand swore. “You four, stay with me. Everyone else get to the sides. Raise anchor and signal the Tocohl and the Margaret. Their archers will have a better angle to shoot the undine off our hulls.”
On the forecastle, Talia was trying to get to the queen, but Lirea had already recovered. Lirea jabbed twice with her spear, driving Talia back and keeping Beatrice trapped at the front of the forecastle. The third time, Talia twisted sideways, catching the shaft and yanking Lirea closer. Talia stepped forward and drove the edge of her other hand into the mermaid’s throat.
Danielle had seen Talia drop men twice her size with that move, but Lirea merely staggered, stumbling into the pinrail that circled the foremast. The undine must have stronger throats, or else their windpipes were better protected.
Talia hadn’t released her grip on the spear. A quick kick to Lirea’s wrist broke her hold, and Talia yanked the spear free. She spun the weapon overhead and swung.
Lirea jumped around the mast, colliding with Beatrice and knocking the queen into the railing. Beatrice caught herself, then rammed her elbow into Lirea’s side. Someone cheered as Beatrice shoved the mermaid back toward Talia.
Lirea pulled her knife from her harness, slashing wildly. Talia rapped the shaft of her spear against Lirea’s wrist, then stepped back, using the tip to cut Lirea’s arm above the elbow. Lirea barely avoided the follow-up thrust, which gouged wood from the rail.
“Hurry,” Danielle urged. She wanted to help, but knew she would only be in the way.
Beatrice was keeping the mast between herself and the two fighters as she tried to get to safety. The queen was a capable fighter, but Talia’s skills were inhuman. Armand was already shoving his way to the edge of the forecastle to help her down.
Lirea screamed again, the sound so painful several men dropped their weapons. Even Talia staggered back. Still screaming, Lirea thrust her knife at Talia.
Talia twirled out of the way, then swung the spear in a wide arc to crack against Lirea’s back, breaking Lirea’s scream and the spear both.
The impact flung Lirea directly into the queen, driving them both into the railing. Lirea stepped back, and Danielle’s heart knotted.
“Beatrice,” Danielle whispered.
Lirea’s knife was stuck deep in the queen’s chest.
“Mother!” Armand started toward the ladder, but one of the crew pulled him back.
The broken spear dropped from Talia’s hands, surprisingly loud as it clattered to the deck.
Lirea stared at her hand, still wrapped around the hilt of the knife. She screamed again, a wordless cry of anguish that blurred Danielle’s vision. Through watery eyes, she saw Lirea yank the blade free and fling Beatrice toward Talia before leaping from the ship.
Talia caught the queen and lowered her gently to the deck.
Armand was first up the ladder, followed closely by Danielle. Talia already had both hands over the wound, trying to stop the flow of blood.
“She’s still breathing.” Talia’s voice quavered.
“Someone fetch Hoffman,” Armand shouted.
“No!” said Talia. “Get Snow.”
“I’m here.” Snow was already climbing up from the main deck, her face even paler than usual.
“I called for my surgeon, dammit!” Armand stared at his mother’s crumpled form. Danielle could see him fighting to maintain his self-control.
One of the men fired his crossbow into the water. “Your Highness, the undine are leaving!”
Danielle reached out to touch Armand’s arm. “Snow is a skilled healer. She’s helped Beatrice before.”
“My mother is dying,” Armand replied, his voice flat. “Hoffman is—”
“Your mother trusts these women,” Danielle said. “So do I. Please let Snow save her.”
Snow wasn’t waiting for his answer. She knelt beside the queen and spread her hand over Talia’s. “Press harder. Everyone else get back and give me light.”
“Will she live?” Talia asked.
Snow didn’t answer. She touched her choker, a band of oval mirrors connected with gold wire. Light flashed from the mirror in the center, illuminating the wound. “Pull your hand away now.”
Talia drew back, and Snow clapped her own hands down over Beatrice’s chest. Her hair fell like black curtains to obscure her actions.
“Talia?” Danielle asked.
Talia’s hands had begun to shake. She picked up the broken spear and stepped toward the railing.
Danielle followed. “What are you doing?”
Talia jumped lightly onto the rail, one hand holding a line as she searched the water.
“They’ve already fled. You’ll never catch them.” Danielle reached out, but Talia slapped her hand away with the spear. “Even if Lirea remains, she’ll kill you. You can’t fight them in the water.”
Talia might as well have been deaf. She paced along the rail, every step deliberate.
“Snow will save the queen,” Danielle said. “Don’t leave me to explain to her why you threw your life away.”
If Danielle hadn’t been watching so closely, she would have missed the faint slumping of Talia’s shoulders.
“The sea folk have been known to poison their blades,” whispere
d one of the crew.
Snow shook her head. “It’s not poison.”
Armand stood. The crew fell silent as he turned to face them. “Make sail for home.”
When leaving the docks at Lorindar, he had shouted orders for a quarter of an hour. From the way the crew worked together now, unfurling the sails in near silence, those detailed commands had been little more than a formality.
“What about her?” One of the crew gestured at Talia with her crossbow. “It was her who fought the mermaid and got the queen stabbed.”
Talia turned on the balls of her feet. Her expression made Danielle pray the man had already prepared his will and made peace with God. Then Talia looked at the queen. She bowed her head and dropped to the deck, her anger disappearing.
No, Danielle corrected. The rage wasn’t gone. It was simply turned inward.
“I said take us home.” Armand’s voice was soft, but the crew scrambled to obey. He crouched beside Snow. “What can I do to help?”
“Give me space,” Snow snapped.
Danielle took Talia’s hand and pulled her toward the ladder. It was a measure of Talia’s shock that she didn’t resist as Danielle led her away.
Snow had spent most of the day in the galley, reading a treatise on the development of marine navigation, from simple star charts to celestial globes of enchanted quartz to the first astrolabe.
The oven had been extinguished after breakfast, as the growing winds made the risk of fire too great, but the smell of fresh-roasted sausage lingered in the air. Snow sat on a wooden bench in the corner, knees pulled close to support her book. She was so absorbed in her reading that she barely noticed the gentle clangs of the pots and pans hanging on the wall.
Her choker cast a soft beam of sunlight on the pages. Each oval mirror was an enchanted twin to the magic mirror she had inherited from her mother.
This was her second choker. The first had been destroyed a year before. Snow had spent several months working to create a new one. To Snow’s surprise, Danielle had proved quite helpful. Her father had been a skilled glassmaker, and though he had died long ago, Danielle still remembered much of what she had learned from watching him. She had shown Snow several tricks to help her improve the quality of the mirrors.
The Mermaid's Madness Page 2