The Mermaid's Madness

by Hines, Jim C.

  The kelpie turned back toward the Phillipa. The fins and spikes near his head flared out as he answered the call. The sound threatened to burst Danielle’s ears.

  “Please don’t do that,” she said.

  In the distance, Danielle could hear other kelpies. She had no doubt they were following, along with the undine. The Phillipa was still barely more than a toy floating in the distance. They should reach it before their pursuers, but they wouldn’t have much time to escape.

  Beside her, Snow stirred and mumbled, “Too loud.”

  “Snow!” Danielle and Talia spoke as one.

  Snow’s face crinkled in protest. “I said too loud, and you shout at me?”

  Talia shifted position, bracing herself with her legs and freeing one hand to touch Snow’s face. “Open your eyes, Snow. Look at me.”

  Snow squinted in the light. “What happened?”

  “You were hurt,” Danielle said. “We’re going to take care of you. We’re almost back to the ship.”

  “I remember the tower ...” Snow started to say more, and then her eyes widened. Before Danielle could react, Snow turned her head and threw up. She would have fallen from the kelpie if Talia hadn’t grabbed her.

  “Sorry.” Snow closed her eyes and lay back.

  “It’s all right,” Danielle said in the same soothing tone she used when Jakob was upset. “We’ll be at the Phillipa soon.”

  “My head hurts.” Snow tried to sit up again, but Talia held her in place.

  “That’s because Lirea’s air spirits hit you with a tower,” said Talia.

  “Lirea.” Snow closed her eyes. “She’s awfully angry. She shouldn’t have been able to feel my spell.”

  “Just rest,” said Talia. “Try not to move.”

  Snow nodded and laid her head back against the kelpie. Her lips were pale, and her eyelids kept fluttering open. “Talia?”

  “I’m right here.”

  Snow smiled. “My head hurts. What happened?”

  Danielle’s stomach tightened. She looked at Talia, whose face was taut. Danielle forced a smile. “You’re going to be fine, sweetie.”

  “Oh.” Snow appeared to consider this. “That’s good.”

  “Talia, why can’t she remember—”

  “I don’t know.” Talia wouldn’t look at her. “Sometimes when the head is hurt . . . she needs to rest.”

  Danielle turned back to the Phillipa. They were close enough now for Danielle to see the crew scrambling about, preparing for an attack. A heartbeat later, she realized the crew was getting ready to attack them.

  “Wait!” Her voice barely carried over the noise of the water. She pulled one arm out of the harness and gripped the loop with her hand. “Hold Snow.”

  “I’ve got her,” Talia said, slipping both arms around Snow’s body.

  Fear overpowered the cramps in Danielle’s arms as she hauled herself higher on the kelpie’s back, climbing the bony ridges and praying he didn’t make any sudden turns. When she reached the base of his neck, she grabbed another of the harness’ loops to brace herself and drew her sword. She waved the blade through the air, turning it so the glass caught the light of the rising sun. The crew thought they were undine, but no undine carried a glass sword. Nobody did, save the princess of Lorindar.

  Below, Snow giggled. “You’re naked.”

  “That’s because somebody insisted on turning us into mermaids before we left.” Danielle kept her body hidden behind the kelpie’s neck the best she could, but continued to wave her sword until the crew stopped pointing weapons their way. She whispered silently to the kelpie, who slowed as he neared the ship. Danielle could see large fishing nets in the water, presumably lowered to fight the undine.

  Captain Hephyra hopped onto the railing. Thrust through her belt was a thick, unfinished bludgeon of pale wood. “I hope you’re not planning to keep that thing as a pet!”

  “I know that kelpie!” said Lannadae, crawling up beside Hephyra. “I remember when he was just a hatchling!”

  Danielle guided the kelpie between the nets. Hephyra tossed down a rope, which Danielle and Talia looped beneath Snow’s arms. Talia grabbed the rope with one hand, using her other arm to keep Snow steady as Hephyra hauled them both on board.

  “Be careful,” Danielle shouted. “She’s hurt.”

  Hephyra didn’t appear to strain as she pulled Snow and Talia up. Lannadae was waiting with blankets, and soon it was Danielle’s turn.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Hephyra asked.

  “We have Lirea’s knife.” Danielle climbed over the rail, and Lannadae threw a blanket over her shoulders. Most of the crew were too busy preparing the ship for battle to ogle the three women, though Danielle did see one gunner walk right into the capstan.

  “What about Lirea?” Morveren crawled out of the cutter. “What happened to my granddaughter?”

  “Snow couldn’t control her,” Danielle said. “The air spirits—”

  The fins along Morveren’s legs slapped the deck. “I warned her! Finesse, not power. The stronger the spell, the easier it is to detect. She pushed too hard!” She peered into Snow’s eyes, and her fins rippled again.

  Snow groaned and pulled away. “Will someone please make the ship stop spinning?”

  Danielle tried to smile, but inside she was feeling more useless with every passing moment. “The air spirits threw her against the tower wall.” She could still see the surprise on Snow’s face as she flew back, just as she could still hear the horrible thump of Snow’s head striking stone. “She didn’t wake up until we were almost back to the ship.”

  “She will get better, won’t she?” Lannadae looked from Morveren to Danielle, her eyes wet with tears. “She’s Snow White. She has to get better.”

  “Maybe.” Morveren adjusted her tails, tucking them both to the side. “Depends on how hard she was hit. She needs rest.”

  Outside, the kelpie bellowed again. The answering calls were louder than before.

  “Your pet is leading his friends right to us,” Talia said.

  Danielle shook her head. “They know which way we went. They would have found us anyway.” She could see the kelpies in the distance, but right now Snow was more important. “We should get her inside the cabin.”

  “I don’t want to go in the cabin,” Snow protested as Talia picked her up.

  “Can you go with them?” Danielle asked Lannadae. “Snow’s hurt, and she’ll need someone to watch over her.”

  “You should go too, Princess,” said Hephyra. “We’re going to have enough trouble without you getting in our way.”

  Danielle shook her head, trying to focus. “Do you have anyone else on board who can tell those kelpies to return home?”

  Hephyra looked out at the kelpies. “Do what you can. Try not to get killed.” Drawing her weapon, she turned around to shout, “I want every gun loaded and ready to fire. Hold her steady. Any man who looses so much as a single crossbow bolt before my order gets fed to the sea monster.”

  Danielle moved to the edge of the ship, holding her blanket closed with one hand. “Thank you for saving us!” The kelpie should be able to hear her without words, but between the noise of the crew and the honking of the other kelpies, it couldn’t hurt to shout. “Now go, quickly, before Halaka’ar finds you. Tell your friends to follow. You should be safe back at shore.”

  The kelpie’s answering warble sounded confused. He bobbed his head, splashing hard enough to spray Danielle.

  “Go!”

  Waves rocked the ship as the kelpie disappeared into the water. Danielle watched his shadow retreat through the water, heading directly toward the approaching undine.

  “Here.” Talia tossed Danielle a long, dark green tunic. Talia had donned a similar one, along with a pair of knee-length trousers. She’d rolled her sleeves up, exposing the knives on her forearms. She must have rearmed herself while Danielle was talking to the kelpie.

  Talia reached out to hold the blanket while Danielle change
d. “I thought you might want your dignity back.”

  “Thanks.” Danielle yanked the tunic over her head. She was just buckling her sword belt over the tunic when a cheer broke out among the crew. Another kelpie had turned to follow the one Danielle had sent away. She could see the riders shouting and slapping the kelpie with their spears, but it made no difference. Soon a third kelpie began to retreat.

  “Well, squeeze my taproot,” Hephyra said. “We might survive this thing after all.”

  Their triumph was short-lived. Another kelpie reared up from the water and called out. This one was a deep yellow color, spotted with green. Danielle could feel the vibration of the call through the ship’s hull. The rest fell back into formation.

  This new kelpie carried only a single two-tailed rider. Lirea guided her mount closer to the Phillipa. Undine warriors dropped from their kelpies, spreading out through the water. They kept their distance for now, no doubt waiting for the order to attack.

  Danielle turned to Morveren. “Can you try to control Lirea?”

  “I’ve tried before, remember?” Morveren pointed to the stubs of her tails. “She knows me, and her hate is too strong. I had hoped an unfamiliar mind would have better luck.”

  Danielle tried again to send the kelpies away. A few shifted in the water, but none moved.

  “Can the guns hit them from here?” Talia asked.

  Hephyra shook her head. “It would be like shooting a fly with a longbow at fifty paces.”

  “No guns!” Morveren said, crawling toward them. “You promised to help me save my granddaughter.”

  “We tried.” Talia didn’t bother turning to look at Morveren. “She stabbed Beatrice. She nearly killed Snow. I’m not giving her another chance to hurt anyone.”

  This time, Danielle was in complete agreement. “If you want to protect her, help us find a way to stop her.”

  Lirea raised her spear in one hand and began to sing. It was a harsh, grating sound, barely recognizable as song. The rest of the undine soon joined her, their voices rising like a hundred flutes trilling in unison.

  “A war song,” Morveren said. “She orders the tribe to fight until death. Ours or their own.”

  “Target the leader,” Hephyra shouted.

  Morveren moaned, but she said nothing. She simply crawled away, back toward the shelter of the cutter.

  The undine disappeared into the water. The kelpies appeared to leap forward, sinking deeper as they charged the ship. Lirea held back, still singing.

  Hephyra pointed her weapon. “Somebody shut that bitch up.”

  Four guns fired in quick succession. One lucky shot hit Lirea’s kelpie in the neck. It was a glancing blow, but the animal reared back, squealing in pain.

  “Ready the nets,” Hephyra yelled, running toward the back of the ship.“Your crossbow bolts will lose their speed in the water, so don’t bother shooting unless your target’s near the surface. Don’t forget to watch the port side!”

  The gun crews were already reloading. Danielle had seen the process before on the Glass Slipper, but never with such grim-faced urgency. Young boys ran fresh powder cartridges up from below while others hastily swabbed the inside of the cannons, cleaning out any embers that might prematurely ignite the next charge.

  As the undine approached the ship, Danielle heard another sound. Morveren had begun to sing. The sound was like a blanket that grew heavier with every passing moment, pressing Danielle down. She tried to step back, but her legs wouldn’t obey.

  The first wave of undine leaped from the water to hurl their spears. The crew made no effort to dodge. Danielle saw four men fall, dead or dying.

  A crossbow clattered to the deck. Another followed. One man tumbled out of the yards, cracking his arm and shoulder when he landed. Even Captain Hephyra stumbled against the mast, clinging to the wood as though she would fall without its support.

  Though Morveren’s song wasn’t identical to the one she had sung against the Hiladi, it was similar enough for Danielle to recognize the magic. This song was more emotional than the last, driven by fear and anger and desperation. This one also sounded stronger to Danielle’s ear.

  “Grandmother, no!” Lannadae crawled out of the cabin. She paused to shake a fallen crewman, but with no effect. “No more magic! Lirea will kill us all!”

  “I won’t let that happen.” Morveren worked the words into her song, never missing a note. “I’ll find a way to protect you both.”

  “Lannadae, stop her!” Danielle’s voice was nothing against the power of Morveren’s, but Lannadae turned toward her. “Please!”

  The Phillipa trembled as one of the kelpies rammed her hull. Fainter thuds followed, probably caused by the undine trying to splinter the ship from below.

  “I can save her,” Morveren said. “I can save us all. Get off the deck and go somewhere safe!”

  “These people tried to help us!” Lannadae grabbed Moveren’s arm.

  Without breaking her song, Morveren struck Lannadae on the side of the neck. Lannadae’s gills flared out, and she fell back, weeping. She lay there for a moment, gasping for breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Morveren sang. “Now go!”

  Even Danielle could feel the power in that command. Lanndae crawled away, still crying.

  Help us, Danielle pleaded, concentrating on the kelpies. She could still see Lirea’s kelpie circling the ship at a distance. Blood dripped from his neck, but the wound obviously wasn’t a crippling one. Neither he nor the other kelpies acknowledged Danielle’s plea. She closed her eyes to try again, this time directing her request somewhere closer.

  The scrape of claws on wood marked Stub’s arrival. He scrambled up from below, then raced across the deck in a streak of dark fur. For days he had reluctantly obeyed Danielle’s request to not stalk these strange half-fish visitors. Now, with Danielle’s blessing, he pounced, sinking teeth and claws into the exposed skin at the stump of Morveren’s left tail.

  Morveren shrieked and twisted about. Stub scrambled up Morveren’s side, claws raking her skin and tangling in her hair.

  Danielle pushed herself up, trying to reach her sword. She had to get to Morveren before the mermaid recovered, but her body felt like water.

  Morveren caught Stub’s tail. He turned and bit her hand between the thumb and forefinger. She yelled as she ripped him from her skin. Stub continued to claw her arm as she drew back and threw the cat toward the mast.

  Danielle pushed herself up, but there was no way she would get there in time.

  Captain Hephyra stepped around the mast to snatch the cat from the air. Bringing Stub to her chest, she said, “I don’t appreciate guests attacking my crew.”

  Danielle finally freed her sword and raised it overhead, stumbling toward Morveren. She saw the mermaid flinch back, arms raised to protect her head.

  Danielle hesitated. With Snow hurt, killing Morveren would likely mean letting Beatrice die as well. In that moment of doubt, Morveren opened her mouth to sing.

  Talia was faster. She fell on Morveren, driving her shoulder into the mermaid’s chest. Morveren pushed her back, and Talia snapped an elbow to her jaw. She grabbed Morveren’s thumb and twisted, eliciting a shriek of pain as she drove Morveren face first into the deck.

  Danielle heard bone snap as Morveren fought to break free of Talia’s hold. She swung one of her tails into Talia’s side, knocking her down. But even as Morveren tried to crawl away, Talia rolled over and kicked her in the stomach. A second kick caught her in the bridge of the nose. Morveren’s head snapped back, and she slumped to the deck.

  “Did you kill her?” Danielle asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “We still need her.” Danielle used her sword to cut a strip from her discarded blanket. “Gag and bind her, but don’t kill her.”

  “What about kicking her a couple more times?” Talia yanked Morveren onto her stomach, then shoved the gag into her mouth. “We should make sure the other one doesn’t get any ideas either.”

 
“I don’t think Lannadae would—” Danielle bit her lip. She hadn’t thought Morveren would turn on them either. For all of Lannadae’s fear, she cared about her sister and her grandmother both. Danielle wanted to trust her, but mistakes could get people killed. “Go ahead.”

  Talia ran toward the cabin, pausing only to snatch a thrown spear from the air and hurl it back toward its owner. She grabbed the cabin door and tugged. When the door wouldn’t budge, she stepped back and kicked it.

  “Do you mind?” Hephyra demanded, still holding Stub. “She’s not getting out of that door unless I want her to. I’ve swollen it shut, and the wood’s thick enough to muffle her if she tries to sing.”

  “What about Snow?” Talia asked. “She’s in there too.”

  “Your mermaid friend isn’t about to hurt Snow. She’s huddled against the door, bawling like a jilted lover. Nothing happens on this ship without me knowing. Now get out of my way and let me defend my ship.”

  Cannons and crossbows began to fire again as the crew shook off Morveren’s song. Their weapons had little effect on the undine, most of whom were too close to the ship. The cannons couldn’t be pointed straight down, and the water slowed the crossbow bolts.

  “Work the nets!” Hephyra was already hauling one of the lines strung through the yardarm, pulling a net up along the starboard bow. Three undine flopped within the net. Two managed to flip free, though the second took a crossbow bolt to the arm. Three more men fired, killing the last undine before he could escape. “Get to the bow and drag the nets beneath the keel. Otherwise they’ll crack the ship like a nut and drown us all.”

  Danielle watched over the rail as a wounded undine retreated. Another cannon fired, and the water erupted directly in front of the undine. He floated to the surface, stunned.

  “There are too many,” said Talia. “We can’t stop them from up here, even with the nets.”

  Talia was right. The crew knew it too. Danielle spotted James standing in the forecastle, crossbow cocked as he searched for a target. There was no longer any fear in his expression, only grim determination.

  The ship shook as another kelpie rammed the side. Two more cannons fired, and the kelpie’s cry of pain made Danielle cringe.