The Mermaid's Madness

by Hines, Jim C.

  A second followed close behind. The third . . . Danielle smiled. The third kelpie was swimming away as fast as he could. This one kept close to the surface. His riders shouted and pounded his scales, but he ignored their protests.

  “You big coward,” she said.

  Some of the undine had already surfaced to see what was happening. Others crowded together for safety. Few paid any attention to three mermaids swimming along the bottom.

  Most of the undine stayed close to shore. Some had retreated into oversized nests of stones and silt. Danielle slowed to get a better look at the undine’s homes. Curtains of woven vines surrounded some of the nests. The vines clung to the rocks, making it easy to move the curtain. The nests were small, but Danielle saw three, four, even five undine crowded together in each one, sleeping or . . . not sleeping.

  A few undine approached, but the magic of Snow’s mirrors turned them back until the three were through the center archway of the great wall.

  Beneath them lay the remains of what might once have been a road. Here and there, broken paving stones poked through rippled black rock. Seaweed grew from the cracks. A black crab crawled along the rusted, half-buried remains of a gate.

  Beyond the archway the water grew deeper again, as though a moat of some sort had once surrounded the palace. Talia pulled them to one side, where the wall would block them from view of the undine outside.

  “Where is she?” Talia asked as she surfaced.

  Four towers surrounded the central structure. Danielle could just make out the remains of secondary buildings around the former palace. Only the occasional broken pillar or crumbled wall marked a castle that in its day would have rivaled the one back home.

  Snow pointed to the closest tower, which sat partially submerged at the edge of the moat. The tower would allow Lirea to hide away from the world, but her scent would still wash out to the rest of her tribe. The wind was stronger here, raising whitecapped waves along the moat and chilling Danielle’s skin.

  “Air spirits,” Snow said.

  “Can they see us?” asked Danielle.

  “I’m not sure.” Snow turned to look along the shore.

  “They’re racing up and down the edge of the land. I can feel others farther back.”

  “The air spirits guard the land while the kelpies guard the sea,” said Talia.

  They crossed the moat to shallower water. Danielle guessed this to have been a garden of some sort. Green algae covered a submerged statue of a winged horse, giving it a monstrous appearance. Broken fountains formed the boundaries of a path.

  Danielle studied the tower. Rock and rubble lay piled around the base, blocking any entrance. The only way in was through the windows. Lirea could take human form and climb the wall, but no other undine would be able to follow her. Nor could any human approach by land or sea without being spotted. “This is the one place she can feel safe.”

  Snow was still staring into the sky. “The spirits share an empathic bond with Lirea. They have no specific orders, but they share her fear. I should be able to ease that fear long enough for us to get inside.”

  Talia shook her head. “I’ve broken into a lot of places, but I’m not about to sneak into this thing naked.”

  Snow had already crawled onto the shallow rocks. She pulled her tail to her chest, eyes squeezed shut as her body began to change. Skin enveloped scales, and her fins pressed flat against her legs and feet. She doubled over, coughing water from her lungs.

  Her voice hoarse, she said, “Make sure to exhale all of the water before I remove the spell.” To Talia, she added, “If you’d prefer to wait behind while Danielle and I go after Lirea, that’s fine.”

  She might as well have spat in Talia’s face. Talia followed her onto the rocks. “Just cast the damn spell.”

  Danielle looked up at the tower, then down at her pale skin. This was not going to be fun.

  CHAPTER 9

  TALIA MOVED AROUND THE BASE of the tower ahead of the others on the pretense of scouting the terrain. She hurried until she reached the ankle-deep water in the back. Here, unseen by undine or her fellow humans, she collapsed against the wall and fought to regain control.

  The pain wasn’t a problem. Returning to human form might feel like being skinned alive, but at least the pain had helped to distract her from whatever potion Lirea had spread through the water. And now that she was human, the scent and taste of the water no longer seemed to affect her.

  Her own mind was another problem. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Snow bobbing in the waves, her hair slicked back, water dripping down her body ... Deliberately, Talia turned to study the mountains in the distance, little more than a serrated shadow cutting across the sky.

  It wasn’t as though this was the first time she had seen Snow naked. Several of their previous missions for the queen had required them to switch disguises in a hurry, but on those occasions Talia had been able to control her body’s reactions. Not this time, thanks to Lirea pushing her to the edge.

  Her skin tingled when she heard Snow and Danielle approaching. Snow was fully human now, wearing nothing but Morveren’s harness, which accentuated—

  “In’a’een ya mavas,” she swore, digging her nails into her wrists.

  “I should have brought shoes,” Snow was saying. “The rocks are murder on my feet.”

  Talia tried not to look at either of them. “We can climb here. The undine shouldn’t see us, and as long as Snow keeps the spirits busy, we should be able to sneak in.”

  Danielle stepped closer. “What’s wrong, Talia?”

  Talia didn’t answer. Snow’s poor powers of observation had always made it easy for Talia to keep her feelings hidden. Danielle, on the other hand, actually paid attention to such things. Damn her.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Talia whispered. “Aside from the two of you making enough noise to reach the Phillipa.”

  “Ignore her,” Snow said. “She always gets uppity before a kidnapping.”

  Talia started to respond, but the words caught in her throat. What was wrong with her? Beatrice could be dying, and all she could think about was kissing Snow’s lips, running her fingers through that sleek black hair.

  A gentle touch to the middle of the back made her gasp. She twisted away from Danielle’s hand.

  “I’m fine.” Talia’s voice sounded hoarse even to her own ears.

  Danielle looked past Talia to Snow, and compassion softened her face. “Snow, I’ve seen you cast illusions before. Would it be terribly difficult to use your magic to clothe us? I’m . . . I’ve always been self-conscious. This is too distracting.”

  Shame burned Talia’s cheeks.

  “You’ve got nothing to be self-conscious about,” Snow said, grinning. “You’d never know that body spat out a prince.”

  “Please?” Danielle asked.

  With a shrug, Snow touched her mirror. A low-cut blouse and trousers shimmered into existence, covering Danielle’s body. Similar garments soon appeared on Snow and Talia.

  Talia sighed. She recognized these clothes from Snow’s wardrobe, and they weren’t too much better than being naked. Nor could they do anything to erase the images in Talia’s mind. But it was better than nothing.

  She started to thank Danielle, but that would mean acknowledging what Danielle had done. Instead, she turned to the tower wall. “Keep your body close to the tower, and try to put your hands and feet where I do. Move one limb at a time.”

  Illusory clothing did nothing to protect her body from the rough-hewn stone. The lowest window was three stories high, and she was soon bleeding from scrapes on her arms and legs. She peeked through arrow slits as she climbed, but the interior was too dark to see anything.

  The marble sill of the window was wet and slick to the touch. She found a higher foothold and pushed herself up. She held her breath, listening for any sound inside: a footstep or a quick breath as someone prepared to decapitate her. The only sounds were the lapping of the water below and Snow’s muttered
complaints.

  “Wait here.” Talia pulled herself through the window, landing lightly on a stone floor inside. There, she waited for her vision to adjust. She could make out an orange glow rising from the center of the room. The light showed the outline of a pit where the center of the floor had crumbled away. She didn’t trust the broken floor enough to investigate more closely.

  A staircase wound along the outer wall. Overhead, she could see the fading stars through holes in the roof.

  She returned to the window and reached down to help Danielle and Snow through. Danielle’s sword clinked against the windowframe as she climbed inside. Talia froze, waiting for some sound from below, but if Lirea was down there, she didn’t appear to have heard.

  “Stay close to the wall.” Talia led them to the steps. “Keep quiet.”

  This must have been a guard tower originally. The very top would have held cannons or ballista, as well as a signal bell. The weight of all that equipment was probably what had broken through the floors.

  The stairs descended through a makeshift armory. Many of the old weapon racks were bare or broken, but Lirea had built up a fair collection of her own. Undine-style spears and knives carved from wood, stone, and bone stood in neat rows. Lirea kept enough weapons to fight a small army. Further along were more exotic weapons. Danielle picked up a grooved paddle that curved into a hook at one end.

  “Spear thrower,” Talia whispered, helping herself to a curved sword. The blade was tarnished but still sharp. It wasn’t old enough to belong to the tower’s original inhabitants. How many of these weapons had come from sunken ships? Her fingers tightened to fists when she spotted a knife with a polished white stone set in the cross guard. Such knives were common in the northern part of Lorindar, and the shine of the blade meant this was a new acquisition. “Come on.”

  They descended through another room, this one lined with broken, moldy bunks. Through the broken floor, Talia could see candle flames reflecting on the water below. Rusted hinges showed where a trapdoor had once locked the lowest part of the tower off from the rest. A dungeon of some sort? That might explain why it had been built below sea level. Locking prisoners in waist-deep water would be a good way to break their spirits. For humans, at any rate. For a mermaid, this was probably the perfect bedroom.

  Talia kept her sword ready as she crept down the stairs, searching for Lirea. Dead, moldering flowers hung from the walls, filling the air with the sick-sweet smell of rot. Polished shells were mounted between the flowers, the kind of random decoration a child might have done.

  On the far side of the tower, a sickly tree grew from the water. It resembled a willow, but with shriveled pink leaves. Many of the leaves had withered and fallen, floating on the water like tiny boats. The top of an ancient bell rose from the center of the water like a corroded island. Iron rings in the wall which might once have chained prisoners now served as candleholders.

  “There.” Snow pointed to the tree.

  Within the curtain of leaves, a pale shape stood unmoving in the water. It was broader than the mermaid Talia had fought. She studied it more closely, until a flicker of candlelight showed not skin but white marble. She was looking at a statue.

  A second form huddled at the base of the statue. Lirea lay curled around the statue’s feet. She whimpered, and Talia switched her sword to her left hand, drawing a knife with her right. But Lirea didn’t move. She appeared to be asleep.

  “I can kill her from here,” Talia whispered. One throw and it would all be over.

  “You can’t.” Danielle grabbed her arm. “We promised Morveren.”

  “You heard that merman.” Talia tugged free. “Lirea is the one leading them to war and glory. Without her, the attacks against Lorindar will end. You’re princess of Lorindar, remember? You have a duty to protect your people.”

  “What about my duty to Beatrice?” Danielle asked. “You think Morveren will help us if we betray her and murder her granddaughter?”

  Forget Lirea. Maybe she would just kill Danielle instead. She glanced at Lirea to make sure the mermaid hadn’t heard their whispers. “We’ll still have the knife. Snow can save Beatrice.”

  “Are you sure?”

  They both turned to Snow. Her only response was silence.

  “We take Lirea back,” said Danielle. “Maybe Morveren will be able to help her. Either way, I don’t intend to simply let her go free. We’ll still protect Lorindar, and Beatrice will live.”

  “Lirea has killed too many people already.” But Talia moved aside to make room for Snow. “Someone has to pay for those deaths.”

  Snow stepped down the stairs, squeezing past Talia. The illusion of clothing did nothing to mediate the sensation of skin against skin. Talia tightened her jaw and concentrated on Lirea, ready to kill her if she so much as twitched.

  “The stairs are slimy.” Snow held the doll in both hands as she hummed to herself. Her brow wrinkled, and she turned toward Talia. “I can hear her dreams. Her memories of her time with Gustan.” Her eyebrows shot higher. “Mermaids are awfully flexible.”

  “Stop prying,” Talia hissed. “Cast the damn spell.”

  “I’m trying. But her dreams are intense.”Was Snow actually blushing? Talia wouldn’t have thought it possible. “It probably has something to do with the spawning.”

  “Snow, please,” said Danielle.

  “Sorry.” Snow swallowed and turned back to Lirea.

  “Her dreams are so happy, but her mind is an angry, frightened place.”

  Talia twirled her knife through her fingers as Snow resumed her spell. Talia started to ask how long this would take, then caught herself. Snow was too easily distracted as it was.

  “She’s fighting me, even in her dreams,” Snow said. “She shouldn’t be able to—”

  The branches of the willow tree exploded outward, and Snow screamed. Talia threw her knife, but a sudden wind knocked it away to clatter against the wall.

  Talia leaped from the stairs, her stolen sword clutched in both hands. Across the room, Lirea was sitting up, her eyes impossibly wide. She looked like a child roused from a nightmare.

  The wind slammed into Talia from behind, knocking her into the water. The damned air spirits again. She tried to push herself up from the slime-covered rubble at the bottom, but the wind was too strong. She pulled her legs beneath her, pushing harder until she was able to raise her face from the water. The wind was so strong it created a bowl-shaped impression in the water.

  She managed a single breath before another wind hit her from the side, tossing her off-balance and pressing her down again. Between the pressure in her ears and the roar of the wind, she barely heard Danielle’s shouted warning.

  Lirea dove from her shelter beneath the tree, swimming toward Talia. She carried a long spear, similar to the one she had used back on the Glass Slipper. Talia wrenched her sword around to knock the spear aside, but Lirea’s body slammed into her, knocking them both underwater.

  Talia tried to stab upward, but Lirea was pressing down on her. She dragged Talia over rocks and debris until they slammed into something harder. The fallen bell. Talia braced herself against the bell and dropped the sword, reaching instead for the shaft of Lirea’s spear. She caught the end and pushed, using the spear as a lever to pry Lirea away. Her lungs were already burning from lack of air.

  Lirea fought back, and Talia shifted tactics. She drove her knee into the mermaid’s side. Lirea’s grip loosened, and Talia kicked free. She gasped for breath, stepping back to give herself space to act. She dodged another thrust of Lirea’s spear, and then the air spirits struck again, slamming her into the bell.

  Lirea was too fast in the water. She moved about like a demon, diving one way then another before Talia could react.

  Talia barely twisted out of the way of the next attack. Lirea’s spear rang off of the bell, and then one of her tails swept beneath Talia’s legs. The other tail flipped up and around her chest, pinning her arms. Lirea fell backward, dragging Talia
back beneath the water and squeezing the air from her lungs.

  Talia dug her fingers between Lirea’s scales and pulled. The scales sliced her fingers, but she pulled until she felt Lirea’s skin tear. Lirea refused to give in. Talia’s vision began to sparkle, and her blood pounded in her skull. She heard shouts in the distance, and then Lirea was swimming away.

  Talia pulled herself up and tried not to vomit. On one side of the room, Danielle staggered against the wind, her glass sword clutched in both hands. Lirea had recovered her spear, but it looked as though Danielle’s enchanted blade had sheared off the point.

  The wind-driven spray made it hard to follow Danielle’s movements. She was backing away from Lirea. If Talia hadn’t been able to beat the mermaid, Danielle wouldn’t last long. “Where’s that magic, Snow?”

  Danielle jabbed her sword toward the stairs. Most of the candles had died, but Talia could just make out Snow’s body crumpled on the steps, her legs submerged in the water. She wasn’t moving.

  Danielle was trying to get past Lirea to the stairs, but Lirea clubbed her in the arm with her spear. Danielle hit the spear again, cutting it in two, and then the wind tossed her into the water.

  Lirea dropped her broken weapon and retreated up the stairs, her tails shifting into legs. She pulled her knife from her harness and grabbed Snow’s hair, yanking her head up to expose the throat.

  “Lirea!” Talia ducked behind the broken bell, taking shelter from the wind as she drew a knife from her belt and threw. The air spirits slapped it aside with ease, but it was enough to make Lirea jump.

  Talia braced herself against the wind. She pulled both knives from her forearm sheaths and threw one left-handed. Like the first, this one flew wide. But even as that blade clattered against the wall, Talia was gauging its path and throwing the next. This time, she aimed to the right, a throw that would have gone wide . . . if the wind hadn’t altered its course.

  It wasn’t a perfect throw. Not even Talia was that good. But the blade sank into Lirea’s shoulder.