The Mermaid's Madness

by Hines, Jim C.

  Her eyes drew Danielle’s attention, being a deeper green than she had ever seen before. They reminded her of new-budded leaves.

  Captain Hephyra tugged a bandanna from her belt and tied her hair back from her face. “You’re welcome to hide out in your cabin while we prepare. Personally, I prefer the rain.” She spread her arms, tilting her face back.

  “You’re mad,” Snow said cheerfully. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “I’m not the one who decided to sail through this weather,” Hephyra answered. “The king’s man said it was important.”

  Before Danielle could answer, one of the crew swore. “Captain, we’ve got a mermaid here!”

  Hephyra strode to the side of the ship, where the dinghy hung just below the railing. “That would be our other passenger, I presume?”

  “Her name is Lannadae,” Danielle said. Already a handful of men gathered at the railing. Several carried knives and shortswords. “She’s a friend of the queen.”

  “And you’re bringing her on my ship why?”

  Snow folded her arms. “Your ship?”

  “Fine.” Hephyra rubbed her wrist, scowling at Snow. “The queen’s ship.”

  Danielle looked at Snow, trying to understand the hard edge beneath Hephyra’s words.

  “The Phillipa was a gift to Queen Beatrice,” Snow explained.

  “From the fairy queen. I remember.” Danielle looked back at Hephyra.

  “Carved from the tree of a dryad.” Hephyra’s fingers caressed the rail. “My tree.”

  Danielle looked around. “The whole ship?”

  “It was a big tree.”

  “Hephyra had trespassed on the queen’s land,” Snow said. “The queen meant to make an example of her by killing her tree. She had it cut down and turned into this ship. She assumed that would be enough to kill Hephyra as well, but—”

  “But the ancient trees are tougher than even the queen knows, may termites burrow her a second arse-hole.” Hephyra turned her head and spat. “Beatrice understood what this gift was. I had hidden within the grain to avoid the royal bitch’s wrath, but by the time we arrived in Lorindar my tree had begun to die. Beatrice found me and had her witch here do what she could to save the tree. The fairy queen’s oath binds this ship to Beatrice. None can break that bond, which makes me her servant. But as long as I stay, the Phillipa and I both survive.”

  “Sorceress, not witch,” Snow muttered.

  “So the Phillipa is alive?” Danielle asked.

  “That’s right. And you still haven’t explained your pet mermaid.”

  Lannadae must have realized she was discovered. She sat up and peered up at the crew.

  “You’ve heard what happened?” Danielle asked. At Hephyra’s nod, she said, “Beatrice is dying.” A knot tightened her throat.“Lannadae can take us to one of her kin, someone who might be able to save the queen.”

  Hephyra leaned against the rail. “Why would I want to help you save her? Her death means my freedom.”

  “Beatrice saved your life,” Danielle said. “She could have let you die.”

  “That was her choice,” the dryad said with a shrug. “I’m bound to her, Princess. Not you.”

  “Fine.” Danielle turned to Snow, suddenly furious. “Your spells helped Hephyra and her ship survive. Does that mean you can reverse those spells?”

  “No need,” said Snow. “The fairy queen said this ship would serve Beatrice. Hephyra doesn’t have to obey us, but she does have to serve. Beatrice needs this.”

  “Stupid oaths.” Hephyra spat a second time, then turned to the crew. “Bring the mermaid on board. The rest of you, get back to work.”

  The crew seemed reluctant to obey. Danielle couldn’t hear their words, but their tone was angry. Lannadae shrank down into the bottom of the boat.

  Hephyra smiled again, but this time it was a hungry expression. “If any of you feel you’ve no duties to perform, the ship could use fresh fertilizer.”

  “Fertilizer?” Danielle asked.

  “The bottom of the ship is filled with earth, to feed the ship,” Snow explained. “You’ll smell it if you go down a few decks. On most ships they dump the chamber pots overboard, but Hephyra has a better use for them.” She grinned. “Lugging the pots through the dark lower decks is not one of the more popular duties.”

  Most of the crew hurried away, though one lingered behind, watching Lannadae. Young as she was, the sight of her wet body clearly held him captivated. “This could make for a worthwhile journey after all,” he commented.

  Danielle tensed. “Who is that man, Captain?”

  Hephyra glanced back. “Martin. Tough sailor. Drinks too much, but he’s good in the sheets.” She grinned at the double entendre.

  “Will he be a danger to Lannadae?” Talia asked.

  “No danger,” Hephyra said. “He plans to have his way with her as soon as he can get her alone, but he knows better than to kill her or anything like that.”

  “No danger?” Danielle repeated. “She’s a child.”

  Hephyra stared. “I was four days from the sapling the first time I knew the pleasure of a man. She’s what, ten years? Fifteen? Hard to tell with you mortals.”

  “How can you know what he’ll do?” Danielle asked.

  Hephyra cocked her head to the side, studying Danielle. “It’s been two weeks since you last slept with your husband. Though you wanted to this morning, I think.”

  Snow’s snickering only added to Danielle’s embarrassment. “She’s a dryad,” Snow explained. “A nymph.”

  Talia’s voice shook. “If your man lays a hand on her, I’ll break it. And then I’ll make sure Snow sinks this ship to the bottom of the sea. How long will you and your tree survive in the sunless depths?”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a knot.” Hephyra shook her head. “Martin, are we going to have any trouble with you keeping your mast under control?”

  “No, ma’am!” Martin broke away from Lannadae and turned to go.

  With a sigh, Hephyra crossed the deck and seized him by the belt and collar. Martin barely had time to scream before Hephyra tossed him overboard. “Never try to hide your lusts from a dryad, you foolish man.” She turned around. “Anyone else so much as thinks about bothering our guests, I’ll do worse to you.” To Danielle, she said, “Happy now?”

  “Thank you,” said Danielle.

  Hephyra turned to Lannadae. “I’m not entirely sure where we’ll put you.”

  “I can stay in the boat for now,” Lannadae said. “I like the rain and the puddles.”

  “A girl after my own heartwood.” Hephyra clapped Danielle’s shoulder. With her other hand, she gestured toward the barrels James was bringing on board. “Just tell me one thing, Princess. These three barrels of bait and fish offal you brought along. Don’t tell me you mean to divert this ship for a spot of fishing?”

  “Oh, those?” Danielle matched her smile. “Just keeping a promise to my husband.”

  Lirea walked among the humans throughout the night and into the morning, searching for any clue to her sister’s whereabouts. On a calmer day, she might have tried to track Lannadae through the water, but today the waves were too violent. Lannadae’s taste would have swiftly washed away.

  Eventually, her questions led her to one of the taverns, a crowded place that smelled of old beer and dead fish. She looked around until she spotted a bedraggled fisherman with a curly brown beard, crooked nose, and hair so thick it could have been undine. Robson, if the last person she had talked to was to be trusted. Robson was huddled in the corner by the hearth, waiting out the storm with a half-empty mug of beer.

  Lirea sat down across the table from him, her back to the fire. She forced a smile and asked, “You hunt lobster?”

  Robson studied her for a long time. The heat of the flames raised steam from his damp clothes. “That’s right.”

  “Have you sold any to the queen?” This was the ninth fisherman she had spoken to. She had received five drinks and two pr
opositions, but the closest she had come to answers was one man’s suggestion that Robson had been seen making deliveries to the palace.

  He frowned. “Not the queen, no. There was a woman who came to me a month or so back, asking for a barrel of live lobster. She didn’t say who it was for, but she dressed too well to be a commoner. Gorgeous eyes, lips as red as blood. Saucy lass. If I weren’t married, I’d have—”

  “What did she want them for?” Lirea asked.

  “Can’t rightly say. I can’t imagine a lady as fine as her eating something so crass. The commoners enjoy them, but you’d never catch me dining on bottom-feeding sea roaches.”

  “Where did you deliver them?”

  “To the lady’s boat.” He scratched his chin. “I suppose she might have been a shipowner, stocking food for her crew. Though live lobster is a strange choice for a sea voyage, and I can’t imagine an owner rowing her own boat about.”

  Lirea stood. “Thank you.”

  “Lannadae will kill you, you know,” he said casually.

  Lirea’s hand went to her knife. “What did you say?”

  “Easy, girl. I only asked why the interest in lobster.”

  “I thought you said . . .” Lirea closed her eyes, trying to shut out the voices in her mind. A simple fisherman wouldn’t know Lannadae’s name.

  The conversation in the tavern had grown louder. She heard someone else mention her name, but when she turned around, nobody appeared to be looking her way.

  “You should kill them all before they kill you.” Robson’s voice was a chorus, taunting her. “Take your place as ruler of both land and sea.”

  “No!” Lirea backed away. His words sounded real, but he couldn’t know who she was. This was a trick of her mind.

  “Give it up, child.” The words no longer matched the shape of Robson’s mouth. What was he really saying? Other humans were beginning to stare as well. “You’ll never find her.”

  Lirea held her breath until the pounding of her blood pushed the voices back. Staring at Robson, she said, “Lannadae is here.”

  He shook his head. “Who’s that?”

  Her sister would have been hungry when she awoke, and she had always been fond of lobster. No undine would eat dead meat the way humans did, not if they had a choice. “Where did the woman take your lobster? Was there an undine with her? A mermaid?”

  Robson shook his head. “A friend of mine claims to have spotted the soulless bastards circling the waters outside of the harbor late last night.” He downed the rest of his beer, then wiped his chin on his sleeve. “Some say they mean to sink our ships from below, that they’ve declared war on us all. Ought to scale and gut the whole lot of them.”

  “Oh, but Princess Cinderwench would never permit that.” Another man stumbled toward the table. He was well built and wore the dark vest Lirea had seen on some of the sailors. He caught Lirea’s arms and pulled her close, squinting at her face.

  Lirea restrained herself from drawing her knife from beneath her shirt and cutting him open. Instead, she grabbed his wrists and pried his arms back. “Cinderwench? You mean Princess Danielle.”

  “You look a little like her,” he said. “Same eyes. Same hair.”

  “Like the princess?” asked Robson. “I think you’ve had too much to drink this night, friend.”

  “No, not the princess. The fish-girl she brought on board. Pretty young thing, naked as a babe, but budding like a fresh—”

  “Mind your tongue in front of the lady.” Robson started to rise, but the sailor shoved the table. The edge caught Robson in the waist, knocking him down.

  Lirea grabbed the sailor’s hand and yanked him away. He started to resist, then grinned and slipped a hand around her waist.

  “Name’s Martin,” he said.

  Lirea pulled him toward the door, the voices in her head roaring their hunger.

  “Careful, lass,” said Robson. “Be sure you know what you’re doing before you walk out with the likes of him.”

  Martin snarled, but Lirea held him close. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  CHAPTER 5

  NILLIAR WAS THE FIRST TO RESPOND to Lirea’s call. She was soon joined by other warriors, fourteen in all. More than enough to sink a single human ship.

  You’ve found Lannadae? Nilliar sang.

  Lirea sliced her hand through the water, ordering silence. Her tail twitched, spinning her about as she searched the sea.

  They gathered at the true edge of Lorindar. Humans thought their isle ended at the cliffs, but the land stretched well beyond. It was here that Lorindar truly ended, as the seabed dropped away into the cold black abyss. With the clouds blocking the moon and stars above, Lirea’s fellow undine were little more than shadows. She could taste their presence, feel the movement of the water as they swam, but she couldn’t see their faces.

  Which one would be next to turn against her? How many were working for Morveren or for Lannadae?

  The voices had grown worse since she killed Martin. The whispers seemed to come from all around her, chastising her while at the same time urging her to return to shore and murder every last human.

  Lirea swam to the drop-off. Warty barnacles clung to the rock. Perhaps they were the source of the voices. She grabbed one, trying to break the shell from the stone.

  What is it? asked Nilliar.

  I spent the day searching, questioning the humans. Lirea tugged at the barnacle as she tried to remember. I think I might have interrogated a rowboat, too. Or was the rowboat where she had hidden Martin’s body? She wasn’t sure anymore. There was a ship that left early this morning. Her hull unpainted, with two masts and silver sails.

  We saw it, said Nilliar. She struggled against the wind, but she kept afloat. The humans also launched a fishing ship, and a cargo vessel snuck away late last night. I allowed them to leave so that our presence would remain secret until you returned.

  Lannadae is on the silver-sailed ship. Lirea swam to the surface, rising and falling with the waves. She could see nothing through the rain. Coughing water from her lungs, she sealed the gills along her neck and said, “Show me which way they went.”

  “Are you certain? Why would Lannadae—”

  Lirea drew her knife, and Nilliar fell silent. “Take me to them.”

  The human’s ship had made poor time against the wind. Even so, Lirea grew weary long before one of her warriors sighted the ship in the distance. She needed sleep. Fatigue always made the voices worse.

  Lirea took her spear from Nilliar and dove, thrusting the spear forward. Her warriors drew their own weapons and followed.

  Exertion warmed her body as she raced through the water. The currents were more favorable here, giving them extra speed. They would reach the ship with ease, and this time there would be no mistakes. She could almost taste the salt-metal tang of blood in the water.

  Lirea slowed as imagination and reality blurred. The taste of blood was real, if faint. Or was this another illusion?

  Shark! Nilliar’s warning was low and calm. The undine responded instantly, swimming into a half-sphere formation around Lirea, protecting her from attack.

  Lirea could see the shadow swimming toward them, but she wasn’t worried. A lone undine might fall prey to a shark, but an armed group had little to fear.

  There’s another!

  Moments later, Lirea spotted a third. The sharks swam together, their formation almost as tight as that of the undine. Her people could face three sharks, but it would be costly, and the blood would only enrage the sharks further.

  Ready spears, sang Nilliar. Form a ring, and try to herd them toward the center.

  The undine moved with one purpose: to protect their queen. Nilliar swam into the center of the circle, where she twitched her arms to simulate injury and lure the sharks into the trap. But as they waited, the sharks slowed. One turned away, swimming back toward the human ship. A second followed.

  Lirea waited, heart pounding, to see if the third shark wou
ld still attack. This one came close enough for Nilliar to swim forward and strike its nose with the butt of her spear. The shark turned back, pausing only to snap at something in the water. It returned to the human ship, where a fourth shark now waited.

  They’re following the humans. Lirea swam after, being careful not to get too close to the sharks. Something floated on the waves nearby. She jabbed it with her spear. A fish head stared at her with empty eyes. They’re tossing fish parts overboard to attract the sharks.

  That wouldn’t cause them to attack us, sang one of her warriors. Or to break away once they decided to attack.

  They say the human princess can speak to the animals, answered Nilliar. They obey her wishes and protect her from harm.

  Lirea spun around, her song angry. When I speak with animals, you look at me as though I’m mad.

  The undine looked away. In a low voice, Nilliar said, You also told us you interrogated a boat earlier today.

  Lirea’s anger faded as quickly as it had come. Nilliar had a point. Lirea swam to the surface and watched the ship sail away. “They have only four sharks. We’ll summon more warriors. We can—”

  “The rest of the tribe will have reached the spawning grounds by now,” Nilliar said quietly.

  Lirea struck her across the face.

  “Your body knows,” Nilliar continued, her tone unchanged. Blood dripped from her nose. “Perhaps you can’t taste it, but the rest of us can.”

  Lirea could have screamed. Without the scent of a royal to fill the water, the undine would be sterile. No matter how loyal they might be, some pressures were impossible to fight. If Lirea didn’t return home soon, those undine of breeding age—easily half of her tribe—might leave to join other tribes, destroying all she had accomplished these past months. “It’s too early.”