William blushed when she bumped into Captain Bernadotte's arms, but he grinned and led her into the dance.
Her heart swelled and her feet moved a little more lightly as she danced in his arms, and all over she hurt a little less. He never looked so handsome to her as he did that night, under the Chinese lanterns and fireworks of red and green and purple. He never seemed to smile more winningly at her; never held her waist so firmly as they danced, never regarded her so tenderly when the music called for her. She loved the light in his eye and his smile.
'I wish I'd loved you first,' she thought as the night wore on. 'I wish I'd seen from the beginning how kind and warm and loving you were, before I saw the Count. Before I…'
No, William thought as they changed partners. 'No, you were the first.'
Captain Bernadotte was the first human she had ever seen when she first boarded a human ship; but she had been so put off by how coarse, grizzled, and hang-dog he looked. He had been the first human to find her when she had washed up on shore with her new legs, but she had looked right past him hoping to see the Count. He did not look like the handsome men the sea princesses described when they came down from visits to the surface all those years, so her wandering eyes kept looking until she found the handsome Count, and she had fallen for his handsome face and graceful movements, rather than his good character.
'I'm so sorry,' William thought as she spun back into his arms. 'I should have known. I shouldn't have…'
He danced with her most of the night, and stared at her the rest of it. She danced with many partners, but could never forget where he was.
'You've always noticed me, haven't you?' she thought as she swung back into his arms. 'You were the one who noticed me when I looked in from the outside your ship; looking for a mermaid you knew was there. You saw me save your life beneath the waves, but I had merely wedged you loose and swam on. You saw me in the river when the hounds came barking. You found me washed up on the sand. You saw me…'
Her heart bubbled with so much grief that tears welled in her eyes. In her heart, she heard a sad reprisal to the song that had once driven her to seek brighter tides.
Far away I heard the call
Of the heart that sang a song like mine
She remembered all of the times he noticed she was sad, when others failed to notice or didn't care. All the times he came to see her when the rest of the world preferred to forget. Remembered when he had come to find her when she had run away from parties, and found her twice at the little sea goddess's shop. The sea goddess… who talked of love so deep it changes your smile…
Captain Bernadotte smiled that night as they danced together. A smile so radiant that she forgot the pain in her heart and step.
Its melody draws near
And suddenly we're in perfect harmony
'He loves me,' she thought, as she spun away through many parties. The poor fool always loved her, and she had been too busy mooning over the count to notice. Too busy mooning over a count who was too busy mooning over a girl he loved to notice her. She saw the way they danced, as if there was no one else in the world.
My schooldays are in the past now
My heart can be my only guide
And I must follow wherever it leads me
'How tragic and foolish we are,' she thought, as she smiled and spun back into his arms. He loved a girl who loved another, and she had loved a gentleman who had loved a lady. How much suffering could have been avoided if they had realized the one they loved was no good for them and moved on to another?
'But it's too late now,' William thought as her heart broke and her feet bled. 'I will die in the morning, and nothing will ever come of us. I'm so sorry, Captain Bernadotte. I wish I had… I hope you find happiness when I am gone.'
Wisdom only comes with time
The road to love is paved with broken hearts
The merrymaking lasted long after midnight, yet she laughed and danced on despite the thought of death she carried in her heart. The Count kissed his beautiful bride and she toyed with his coal-black hair. Eventually the music and dancing wound down, and guests began to bed, one by one. When the celebrations was all but ended, they nodded to each other. Hand in hand, they went to rest in the magnificent cabin.
Captain Bernadotte looked like he wanted to say something to her, but William avoided his gaze and wove through the sleepy crowd of guests as they made their way below deck to sleep. No, she didn't want to hear what he had to say. She would not be of this world for very long, and she did not want to hear more sad confessions that would make her approaching demise harder than it needed to be.
A hush came over the ship. Only the helmsman remained on deck as the little mermaid leaned her white arms on the bulwarks. William's heart throbbed, and she looked to the east to see the first light blue hint of daybreak, for she knew that the first flash of the sun would strike her dead.
'The wedding ceremony is over,' she thought, trying to keep herself calm. 'And soon it will be dawn…'
She brought her hands together as though in prayer, and tried to contain her trembling. She gazed out at the dark waters, hearing nothing but the creak of the ship as it floated on the water, the flap of the sails as they caught the wind, and the lap of the water as it splashed against the hull.
She tried to be steadfast and absolute, for the hour of her death was drawing near, and there would be no way to escape it. She could die crying like a child when the monsters came, or bravely and serenely like a young lady worth of a captain's love, even if she was not good enough for a count's heart. She had only one life on this earth, one death, and in this hour of truth she wanted it to be a dignified one.
My goal is near now,
And I must stake everything in my true destiny
No matter what the price…
In that darkest moment before dawn, her true character emerged.
Though she stood still, tears leaked out of her eyes.
'I don't want to die!' she thought desperately.
I don't want to die.
As William held her hands over her eyes, trying to keep herself steady for the impending sunrise, she was roused by a sudden sound.
"William Hanna!" several female voices call at once.
She jerked her head up suddenly, and looked around. She knew those voices.
"Over here, William Hanna!"
She realized it was coming from the starboard bow, closer the center of the ship. She was currently looking over the stern, or the very back of the ship. She hastily ran down the wooden steps along the starboard bulwark, which had been carved over the roof of the captain's cabin, where the sleeping bride and bridegroom slept. She looked over the side of the ship, where the light of the soon-to-be rising sun was brightest.
Then she saw the five stage girls rise up among the waves. They were still as pale as she, but there was no sign of their lovely long hair that the breezes used to blow. It had all been cut off.
William gasped silently. 'Your hair!' she thought, 'What happened?'
Long, luscious locks were a mermaid's pride and joy. They would no sooner cut it than a human girl would cut off her feet, unless through serious trauma or self-sacrifice.
They each spoke one at a time.
"William, look! We gave our hair to the Sea Witch."
"We needed her help to save your life!"
William could only stare dumbstruck, even if she had a voice to speak.
"She cut off our hair, but in return she gave us a magic knife for you."
"Schrodinger! Schrodinger!" another called behind her.
Just then, Schrodinger emerged from the water behind the five stage girls. William had forgotten how large and silver-green his eyes were, and how rubbery his fin-like ears and barbels were.
"It's the only way out, Sera Hanna!" one of the stage girls cried.
"Catch it, William Hanna!" Schrodinger cried, and he disappeared into the water to leap up to her.
William' countenance harden
ed into stubborn resolve; she would not use it.
Schrodinger leapt out of the water and arched into the air toward her. For a wild moment she seriously considered pushing him away, or refusing the knife. The look in his eyes stopped her, though, and at the last second she accepted it, as he arched through the air and fell back into the water with nary a splash.
William looked at the magic knife in her hand, and she gasped and wanted to drop it. It looked like the pointed fang of a giant sea monster, with tip of the tooth filed down to a smooth, fine, straight point. Her hand clutched a handle carved into a tooth with a magic ruby at the tip, and the red on the tooth was enough to feel her viscera spilling out of her abdomen.
She looked at the five stage girls in helpless horror, but they took her look as one asking what to do, not asking how they could expect her to do this.
"You must plunge the knife into the Count's heart!"
"When his blood sprinkles your feet, they'll join together and become a tail!"
"You'll become a mermaid again!"
"Once you've slain the Count, you'll be out of danger!"
"But you must hurry!"
"Harkonnen is very worried about you!"
William' stubborn countenance softened into one of great worry and consternation.
"He's so grief-stricken that his white hair is falling fast, just as ours did under the witch's scythe."
"He talked to the Sea King for you, and he received a pardon for you!"
"The Sea King said that you could return to the royal palace, and make concerts with us for the rest of your three hundred years as a mermaid!"
"You can be with us again, William Hanna!"
William was deeply touched. Harkonnen had gone to all that trouble, for her? These stage girls had all given up their hair, their most prized possessions, to save her life? The Sea King had lamented? He would allow her to come home, and she could… she could… have a life, should she return to the sea?
Suddenly, the thought of living three hundred years under the sea did not seem like an endlessly dark, empty, miserable experience to shrink away from, but a full three hundred years of beautiful colors, and light, and music, and friendships to live to the fullest until she rested happily in her watery grave, like going to bed after a long night of joyous festivities.
"Be quick! The sun will rise soon!"
"He or you must die before sunrise!"
"Please don't let it be you, William Hanna!"
And then Schrodinger—smirking, impish, cocky Schrodinger—did something that William never thought she would ever see him do. He cried. A single tear slid down his eyes, and he cried, "William Hanna, come back to us!"
She was so shocked, she could only stare. "I know I shouldn't have encouraged you to go to the Sea Witch. If I had known what would happen, I wouldn't have…" his voice wavered, and instead he said, "Please, don't let my mistake destroy your life. Come back to us!"
So saying, he turned and skipped away.
"We'll be waiting, William Hanna!"
So saying, they gave a strange deep sigh and sank beneath the waves.
William stared for several moments. Her first instinct had been a firm "No." No, no, no. She would never prolong her own life by taking another's; especially not with the tooth of a sea monster. She remembered viscerally how horrifying it had been when monsters from the deep had emerged into the light and sank their teeth into her father and mother, tearing them apart and eating her alive and…
But then she thought of kindly Harkonnen, and the stage hands, and Schrodinger. She had thought her life with them was over when the Sea King had banished her, and that she would have a long, lonely three hundred years of floating listlessly in dark waters ahead of her. Now, she thought of beautiful walls of living coral, and soft glowing lights of many colors, and music and singing and festivities that would last long into the night, until her endless night claimed her. If they really cared about her enough to try to save her life… if she could be with them again…
Now William felt she owed to them to at least try. Out in the horizon she could see that the sun was rising soon, and she would never get another chance.
She walked slowly to the main cabin, where the young couple slept. She felt every step like she was walking on daggers, and she feared every creek would give her away. When she placed her hand upon the door, she thought she saw a flash of shadow on the other side of the cabin, and she looked up suddenly—but saw no one there. It reminded her of the night she first gazed upon humans, and had seen Captain Bernadotte's face covered in shadow, as he stood by a cabin door much like this one.
Her heart pounded painfully, eat beat feeling like it was being pressed in on all sides by the tips of daggers, and she went into the cabin.
The honeymoon cabin was richly furnished, with red plush cushions and gilded paintings and furniture. In the center of the room, she saw a great canopy bed, surrounded by gossamer curtains. The little mermaid parted the curtains of the bed and saw the beautiful bride asleep with her head on the Count's breast. She looked truly beautiful and at ease, with her head delicately perched near the Count's heart, and her long slender arm draped loosely over his chest.
The mermaid bent down and kissed his shapely forehead. She looked out the open door at the sky, fast brightening for the break of day. She looked at the sharp knife and again turned her eyes toward the Count, who in his sleep murmured the name of his bride. His thoughts were all for her, and the knife blade trembled in the mermaid's hand.
Even in sleep, their happiness seemed to mock William.
She forced herself to think about all the misery the Count and Countess had put her through over the past year, and all that she stood to gain by living past the day, and she raised the knife—but even as she raised it, she knew that she could never lower it.
"William," a soft voice murmured at the door, and she looked back to see Captain Bernadotte.
His eye said he knew everything—of her plight, of her dilemma, and of the choice he knew that she would never make. Even as she stood there with the knife raised, there was no fear or alarm on his face. His eye said that he had heard everything, when she and the mermaids had thought they were alone above deck, and that he wished there was another way.
She looked at him, and her endless eyes said all that her words could not say.
And then the young bride's eyes flew open, and she saw the mute foundling standing over her with a knife raised.
She screamed bloody murder.
William gasped, and dropped the blade so that it clattered on the wooden planks. The Count shot up, and the brass bell right above their cabin clanged long and loud from the startled watch who had been awakened by the Countess's scream. William stumbled away and Pip ran forward, trying to explain what happened as the Count's bride loudly condemned William.
"SHE'S TRYING TO KILL ME, HUSBAND!" the Count's new bride screamed. "THAT FOUNDLING OF YOURS JUST TRIED TO MURDER ME IN MY SLEEP!"
"That's not true!" Captain Bernadotte yelled.
"I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES! SEE FOR YOURSELF, HUSBAND! THERE'S THE KNIFE SHE USED TO TRY TO KILL ME!"
'No…' William thought numbly as the Count glared at her with pure hatred in his eyes, and then lunged at her with a sword.
William scrambled out of his reach, then raced for the door. Captain Bernadotte was yelling in protest and tried to catch her, but she darted past him out into the cool salty morning. The deck was now filled with frightened noble ladies and gentlemen roused from their sleep by the brass bell, both frightened and confused. William wanted to get as far away from them all as she possibly could, and she could see the endless horizon and the sea beckon to her like a swallow to an open window.
With eyes already glazing she looked once more at the Count and tried to hurl herself over the bulwarks into the sea, where she knew her body would dissolve in sea foam without any more fuss.
However, she felt herself tackled from the side, and then held fast by large, strong
arms. Her nostrils filled with the familiar earthly scents of tobacco, dust, and musk, and she knew Captain Bernadotte had prevented her from throwing herself overboard.
Panic seized her. 'No! Let me go!' she thought, and she flailed and writhed in his arms.
Any moment now she would dissolve in his arms, and she could not bear to think of the grief he would carry with him for the rest of his life, when he saw his beloved dissolve into foam in his arms.
She could feel dozens of concerned and frightened eyes upon them, and hear confused murmuring from the disoriented onlookers. She could see the dark Count storm toward her like dark cloud, and hear the pure hatred in his voice as he ordered the onlookers "MOVE!" The Count stalked toward her like a dark, vicious predator—like the two black hunting hounds she had seen hunting small, helpless animals. His eyes were like an animal's. Pure rage and instinctive murder filled his irises, with a golden gleam. She thought the golden gleam was because the sky was turning gold for the approaching sunrise. None of the tender affection or regard he had ever shown her was present now.
The Count stalked toward her, goaded on by the Countess screaming, "KILL HER! SHE TRIED TO KILL ME, HUSBAND!"
The Count lunged at her with a sword, and Captain Bernadotte had to push her away to keep the blade from striking.
A gasp rippled around the crowd as she landed painfully on the deck… vaguely she could hear the Count order, "Step aside, Captain" and the said Captain to say clearly, "Non." And then she heard barking, and she could see the Count's two prizing hunting hounds circling around them. When the Count tried to stalk toward her again, the hounds stood between them, snapping and snarling at their master.
"What's gotten into you?!" the Count cried, in no little surprise.
"They're in league with her, husband!" the Countess screamed from the cabin door. "She's bewitched them!"
By now the guests of the ship were all on deck and fully awake, no longer groggy with sleep or half-convinced they were dreaming. They gathered around while murmuring wonderingly. Many women were frightened by the news that the mute little foundling had tried to murder the bride in her sleep; and on her honeymoon, no less! Other, more mean-spirited voices said they were not surprised, for they knew that she was crazy and she was in love with the Count. A few of the servants said they knew the Count should have locked her away in an asylum months ago. Others said they always knew there was something wrong with her, and this attempt on the Countess Richard was confirmation enough.
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