The Mermaid's Madness

by Hines, Jim C.

  “You’re teasing me. You know there are worse things I can put in your tea.”

  The queen raised her hands in surrender. “Before you go, will you tell me what else is bothering you? I assume it’s something to do with Lirea.”

  With a sigh, Snow sat back down on the carpet. “I keep remembering what I did to her. I thrust a knife into her mind and twisted until there was nothing left. I felt her thoughts fragmenting, ripping apart like rags.”

  “Is that why you worked so hard to reverse the spells Morveren had worked upon her, back in Hilad?” Beatrice asked. “Danielle told me you kept passing out, but each time you awakened you insisted on trying again.”

  “I managed to bind Lirea to one form,” Snow said. “The transformation from human to undine and back was a tremendous strain. I can’t completely restore her body to what it was . . . she no longer produces a scent, and her voice will never heal. But now that she’s free of Morveren and Gustan, unable to change, she might survive for years. A part of me wonders if it would have been kinder to kill her.”

  “You did what you had to in order to free her.”

  Snow snorted. “Free her to what?”

  “To a life with a sister who still loves her. And perhaps, as time passes, a life of peace.” Bea climbed out of bed and held out her hand to Snow. “Help me find Danielle and Talia. There are few things more beautiful than sunset at sea, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let them miss it.”

  Snow bit her lip at the mention of Talia’s name. The undine had kept her too busy to think about Morveren’s revelation, but now that the crisis had passed . . . She still didn’t feel ready to face that truth. “I think I’d rather be alone, if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind. Since I’m queen, that means you’re coming with me.” Beatrice put her hands on Snow’s shoulders. “None of us live happily forever after. But we can choose to be happy today. I’m choosing for both of us. Argue, and I’ll make you wake up tomorrow morning to watch the sunrise as well.”

  Slowly, Snow smiled. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The next morning Danielle stood on the forecastle with Beatrice, watching the waves. The queen tried not to let her pain show, but Danielle could see the tightness in her expression and the way she rested after exertion. Though she did appear stronger here on the Phillipa.

  Beatrice glanced at Danielle. “You seem to have gained your sea legs at last.”

  Danielle smiled and shook her head.“Without Snow’s tea, I’d be huddled away in my cabin with a bucket.”

  Perhaps it was the magic of the ship, or simply being out in the sea air, but Beatrice’s face had more color this morning than in the past two weeks. She still used a cane for support, and she couldn’t stand too long without rest, but she was alive. Alive and healing.

  The ship wasn’t fully recovered either. Hephyra said it would likely be several months before the foremast finished regrowing. But she was seaworthy, and Beatrice refused to set out in any other vessel.

  “King Theodore was right,” said Danielle. “You shouldn’t be here. You need rest.”

  “If I spend one more day in bed, I’ll go mad. They treat me as though I were a crystal doll who’ll shatter at the slightest touch.”

  “How foolish,” Danielle agreed. “It’s not as though you were stabbed, had your soul ripped from your body, fell from a sinking ship, ripped your stitches, and nearly bled to death on the journey back to Lorindar.”

  Beatrice snorted. “You sound like Talia. I think I liked it better back when you were afraid of offending me.”

  From high in the mainmast, the watch shouted, “Hiladi ships sighted to port.”

  “That would be the Prince’s Triumph and their escort,” said Beatrice. “I’ll have to ask Snow, but I don’t believe a Hiladi vessel has ever attended an undine ceremony before.”

  Danielle pulled down her hat to block the sun as she searched for Varisto’s ship.

  “You should get Snow and Talia. We’ll be there soon, and Lannadae will be disappointed if they aren’t present.”

  Danielle turned around. “They’re already coming.” Snow and Talia were making their way from the cabin. Snow was trying to shove a sheathed shortsword into Talia’s hands.

  “He’ll be offended if you don’t wear it,” Snow said, laughing. “If you didn’t want the sword, you shouldn’t have accepted it.”

  “Why not?” Talia sprang onto the ladder, pulling herself onto the forecastle. “It’s a beautiful weapon. Light, well-balanced, and matched with one of those magical bracelets. Do you remember how Varisto summoned his ax back in the chapel? I could use a weapon that came when called. I thought this was his way of thanking me.”

  “You didn’t see the coiled snakes on the pommel?” Snow asked as she followed. “Or the garnet chips worked into the scabbard?”

  “What’s wrong?” Danielle asked.

  “The snakes and jewels mark this as a hakris sword,” Snow explained. “Varisto gave it to Talia before he left Lorindar last week. She must have impressed him. The hakris weapon is a token of a suitor’s intentions. It’s not an engagement, but the next best thing.”

  Talia snatched the sword from Snow’s hands. “You were there. You knew!”

  “If you’d spend more time reading and less time learning new ways to kill a man with your bootlace, you’d have known too!”

  Danielle reached out to take the sword, squeezing between them before Talia tossed Snow overboard. She was used to their teasing, but over the past few days, there had been an edge to Snow’s joking. Whatever had happened between them, Danielle hoped it would pass soon. “I’ll explain to Varisto that Talia is oath-bound to serve Beatrice and thus unable to accept other commitments.”

  “Are you sure, Talia?” Snow pressed. “You don’t have to marry him, but the wooing could be fun. He’s strong, attractive . . . you both seem to like pummeling people. I thought maybe you might—”

  “I count six warships,” Talia interrupted, squinting at the approaching Hiladi vessels. “You’d almost think they didn’t trust the undine anymore.”

  Danielle glanced at their own escort. Four ships sailed alongside the Phillipa, each one carrying large nets, extra guns, and twice as much powder as necessary. Danielle just prayed fear and hatred didn’t lead one of the humans to fire on the undine. The undine attacks had stopped soon after Morveren’s death, but Danielle suspected it would take years for humans to once again feel safe at sea.

  Danielle shivered when she spotted the undine approaching, their bodies cutting through the waves. How long would it be before she felt safe again?

  “There they are,” said King Theodore, climbing up to stand beside his wife. His skin appeared faintly green, but it was an improvement over the previous day. Snow’s tea had helped the king as much as it had Danielle.

  Theodore’s advisers had warned him against coming, citing dangers ranging from vengeful undine to the angry ghosts of Morveren’s victims. The king’s response had been succinct and had left at least three nobles red-faced and coughing.

  Danielle had no doubt Armand would have been here as well, if not for his leg. She looked forward to returning home to him and Jakob soon.

  There were no displays of undine strength or skill this time as Lannadae’s tribe approached the gathered ships. Nor would there be any gifts. Only a formal end to hostilities.

  The undine swam in a series of inverted Vs, with Lannadae in the lead. Her escort was armed, weapons pointed not so subtly at the human ships, but Lannadae herself hardly appeared to notice. Her chest heaved, and she appeared to be breathing harder than her companions. She was still out of shape from her long hibernation and exile. But her skin had lost its blue tinge, and she was smiling. She wore the oyster necklace Danielle remembered seeing on Lirea.

  There were fewer undine than Danielle remembered. Lannadae was too young, her scent still weak, and many of the undine had left her tribe.

  The Hiladi ships dropped anchor a short distance behind
and to the right of the undine. Some of Lannadae’s warriors shifted, clearly uncomfortable at the number of humans and cannons. Lannadae merely swam closer to the Phillipa.

  “Greetings, Queen Beatrice!” Lannadae waved. “And to Princess Danielle and her two companions.”

  Danielle had asked Lannadae not to share the truth about Snow and Talia. From the delighted smile on Lannadae’s face, she took great joy in keeping that secret.

  “Hello, Lannadae,” said Bea. “I’m glad to see you again.”

  “Is that your mate?” Lannadae asked.

  The king laughed. “I am. My name is Theodore of Lorindar. I’m honored to meet you at last, and I am pleased to see you doing so well.”

  “Thank you, friends. For everything.” With that, Lannadae disappeared into the water and swam toward the Hiladi.

  Danielle blinked. “That’s it?”

  “She named us friends,” said Bea. “The undine aren’t big on ceremony.”

  “We’ve waited two weeks for her to name us friend?” Danielle demanded. “She could have done that the moment she accepted leadership of the tribe!”

  Bea smiled and patted Danielle’s arm. “It wasn’t the undine who delayed us. Theodore and I haven’t had an easy time convincing our people to let go of their hostility. There were many who wished to punish the undine.”

  Theodore scowled. “With the return of trade, I’ve ordered all merchants to return their prices to what they were before the crisis. A handful of gougers have been arrested, but the rest are falling into line. That should go a long way toward making the people happy. Though Montgomery still presses to punish Hilad for their role in this mess.”

  “Name Montgomery ambassador to Hilad,” Beatrice suggested. “Send him to live among them for a year.”

  The king laughed and squeezed her hand. “Who would I be punishing, Montgomery or the Hiladi?”

  Lannadae returned a short time later. She sang to her people, her voice louder than Danielle had ever heard. In response, one of the kelpies surged forward, head held high. On the kelpie’s back, four undine carried a large chest.

  “Most of the gold my sister collected will be returned, but I wanted to give you this,” Lannadae said. “I hope it will help to repair some of the damage Lirea caused.”

  “Thank you,” said Bea. “How is your sister?”

  Lannadae’s expression fell. “She refuses to leave her tower. We’ve dug a tunnel through the wall, but when I visit, she only hides. She hasn’t spoken since Morveren’s death. I don’t know how much she remembers. She’s like an infant, with no voice and no understanding of the world around her. But she seems to enjoy it when I sing to her. Yesterday she even came out into the open to listen.”

  Lannadae swam closer, smiling through tears. “Thank you. All of you.”

  “How are you adapting to your role as queen?” Danielle asked. “I know how overwhelming such a change can be.”

  Lannadae beamed. “Oh, I’m not the queen. Lirea holds that title until her death. But when the queen is too old or injured to rule, her consort is allowed to act in her name.”

  Danielle turned to Beatrice, certain she had misheard. For once, Bea looked as surprised as Danielle felt. “Her consort?”

  Lannadae laughed. “You look like gulper eels.”

  “But she’s your sister,” said Danielle.

  “Yes, of course.” Lannadae’s laughter grew, until she could barely stay afloat. “Oh, Danielle. Next you’ll be expecting me to wear clothes, too.”

  Theodore raised a hand, disguising his own laughter with a cough.

  “As consort, it falls to me to care for Lirea and our tribe.” Lannadae’s tails swayed gently beneath the waves, keeping her close to the ship. “I’ll still have suitors, of course. I might even take a mate of my own. Mermen from this tribe and others.” She flushed, the expression making her look almost human. “After so long in exile, I’m looking forward to that part.”

  “What of Morveren’s followers?” Talia asked.

  Lannadae’s smile faded. “Morveren’s magic wore off within a day. Their transformation was temporary, unlike my sister’s. Those who fought for Morveren have been banished. If there are others who believed as she did, they’ve decided to keep those beliefs to themselves.”

  She swam back to the gathered undine. Taking a spear from another mermaid, Lannadae raised her weapon in salute. “Farewell, my friends!” She turned to the Hiladi, saluting them as well.

  “Will we see you in the fall for the migration?” Beatrice asked.

  Lannadae lowered her spear. “I look forward to the strawberries.” And then she was gone. Moments later, no trace of undine remained.

  “We could learn from them,” Beatrice commented, smothering a yawn. “I know nobles who would have stretched this ceremony out for three days.”

  “Now will you rest, Your Majesty?” Danielle asked.

  “I’ve already spent too much time in that stuffy cabin.” Beatrice shook her head. “Give me the wind and the rolling of the deck beneath my feet.”

  Danielle groaned. “I’ll take the bed, I think.”

  “I wanted to thank you, Danielle.” Beatrice’s voice was somber.

  “Snow was the one who freed you from the knife. And Talia—”

  “That’s not what I meant. Don’t misunderstand, I’m grateful to be free.” She looked back at Snow and Talia, who were still bickering. “Neither of those women trust easily, but they trust you. For several years, I’ve worried what would become of them after I’m gone. You’ve eased that fear. For that, I thank you.”

  Theodore chuckled and added, “That and helping us avoid all-out war, of course.” He kissed Beatrice on the cheek.

  Danielle turned to stare at the water. “So is this what the queen does? Rescue princesses and prevent wars?”

  “You didn’t think the job was all balls and banquets, did you?” Beatrice’s eyes twinkled.

  Danielle watched the waves breaking against the Phillipa. “Lannadae is so young. Snow said her scent wasn’t yet strong enough to control the tribe, and she’s been through so much. Will she be—”

  “Lannadae is stronger than she knows. She has a kind heart, and she cares for her people. For now, they will stay with her because they choose to. Because they know she came back to protect them.” Beatrice squeezed Danielle’s hand. “She may feel uncertain, even scared, but she will be a good queen.”

  Danielle flushed. “I . . . imagine she must feel overwhelmed. There’s so much to learn.”

  “There always is,” Beatrice said, smiling. “But thanks in part to you and your companions, she already knows those things that are most important.”

  Before Danielle could answer, Beatrice took her hand and tugged her from the rail. “Now come, I want you to try your hand at the wheel.”

  “I don’t know how—”

  Beatrice’s eyes sparkled. “Princess Danielle, do you remember what I told you when you said you didn’t know how to swim?”

  Danielle swallowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “That’s more like it.” Beatrice took Theodore’s hand, allowing him to help her down from the forecastle. “The voyage home is far too short, and there’s much I intend to teach you.”