The Ondine Collection

by Ebony McKenna

Jupiter’s moons, the girl was three steps ahead of them. Ondine kept trying. “But you work so hard for her, don’t you want a bit of time off? When was the last time you hung out with your friends?”

  “Or your parents,” Old Col said.

  Oh yes, parents, good point.

  “She knows.” Melody closed her eyes tightly and tapped the side of her head. “She sees and hears everything.”

  Old Col produced a super-sized bowl of cheesy chips. Melody’s eyes sprang open and she grabbed four chips and shoved them in.

  “Still goat yer appetite then?” Hamish said.

  Ondine elbowed him in the ribs. Then she leaned in to Melody. “Are you here by yourself?”

  Melody shook her head. “Even when I think I’m alone.” Again she tapped the side of her head.

  Ondine scrunched her forehead.

  Reluctantly, Melody stopped shovelling food in her gob and looked about, as if Mrs. Howser was about to leap out from behind a tree. Then she grabbed the tassels of her fur-lined hood and tied the ends together, pulling them tightly.

  Worry burrowed through Ondine. Melody was choosing her words carefully, trying to give them a message that she couldn’t say out loud. Could Mrs. Howser hear everything they were saying? In which case, they’d have to choose their words with utmost care –

  “Ye need tae leave the crazy witch,” Hamish said.

  Ondine slapped her palm to her forehead.

  Melody looked at Hamish, blushed furiously and lapsed into giggles.

  Did she have to react like such a girly girl just because Hamish looked at her? Hang on . . . Ondine watched as Melody reached for a napkin and began to write.

  Which would ordinarily be pretty ordinary, except for the fact Melody didn’t have a pen in her hand. Plus, she had her eyes closed the whole time and kept right on giggling as if they were having such tremendous fun.

  On the napkin she wrote: She hears everything I hear.

  Jupiter’s moons!

  Catching on, Ondine joined in the giggling to disguise her fear that Mrs. Howser was listening to their every word.

  Then Melody wrote:

  And see.

  They were absolutely stumped. If they couldn’t talk to Melody without Mrs. Howser knowing everything, the old witch may as well show herself now.

  They needed Melody in so many ways. Breaking the bond between Melody and Mrs. Howser was the only way to weaken the witch, and therefore weaken her grip on Vincent. And it would help break the curse Hamish was living under. Oh yes, and they also had to make Anathea the fairest of them all.

  It was so hard to think of the big picture when her thoughts were so full of Hamish.

  “Have another chip,” Hamish said.

  Melody giggled, this time there was no matching expression of embarrassment on her face. Instead, she looked at Ondine and mouthed the words, “Help me.”

  Ondine plastered on a smile. “Of course I’ll get more chips.”

  Mercenary thoughts crept in. Maybe they should simply kidnap Melody and wait for Mrs. Howser to try and get her back? In the meantime . . . no, Mrs. Howser would know what they were doing . . . so it wouldn’t work. Also, something else tinkered at the edges of Ondine’s thoughts. It would be getting really dark across the rest of Venzelemma, which meant more looters with more bad wishes could be about. They needed to get Melody home with them, and soon.

  Frustration took hold. “We need to break the link between you and Mrs. H. Can you hear me you old witch? That’s right. This ends now. Let Melody go –”

  “– Are you out of your mind?” Old Col cried out.

  “I’m sick of waiting. Melody, do you want your freedom back?”

  Melody’s face crumpled as if she were about to cry. Instead of speaking, she closed her eyes and nodded.

  Frustration had Ondine feeling messier than the sick people staggering out of the rides.

  Wait a minute. The rides!

  “Auntie Col, if Mrs. Howser can see and hear everything Melody does, let’s use the fairground rides to shake her loose.”

  “So much for subtle,” Col threw her hands in the air.

  They were in a fairground, which fairly reeked of happiness – and diesel fumes – while the rest of the city descended into chaos. This could work. “Let’s go on that one,” Ondine said, pointing to The Pretzel. It spun up and down and twisted back and forth. The most sickening ride in the plaza.

  Hamish baulked. “Noat that one.”

  Old Col paled. “Count me out.”

  “You get a free pass,” Ondine said to her great-auntie. Sure, her elderly relative was looking a lot healthier these days than she had been at the palechia, but there was no way she’d subject the dear old thing to The Pretzel. “Come on Melody, I dare you.”

  “I’ll be sick!” Melody protested.

  “And so will Howser.” Ondine looked directly into Melody’s eyes, as if they were a window to Mrs. Howser. “Do you hear me you old witch? Break it now or we’ll pretzel your brain.”

  “Are ye sure, hen?” Hamish’s complexion dropped a few shades too.

  Ondine shot back, “Don’t tell me you’re scared?”

  “Course I’m nae scared of a wee ride.”

  Perfect. “Stay here, Col, we’ll be back soon,” Ondine said, dragging them towards the ride.

  To get to the pretzel ride, they had to walk past a group of patrons who’d just got off it. They looked like vomit zombies, which only made Ondine all the more determined to make her plan work. If Mrs. Howser could see and hear everything via a link with Melody, a psychic link with someone spinning round a fairground should mess her right up. This ride had pods on the end of long arms, which went up and down, side to side and could also flip back and forth. A squeeze from Hamish’s hand gave Ondine reassurance.

  She’d been so caught up in severing the connection between Melody and Mrs. Howser, she’d overlooked a huge flaw in her plan.

  She hated spinny-sicky rides.

  Because they made her so spinny and sick.

  Too late to back out, the woman with the ‘Carnie Crew’ baseball cap ushered them into their cabin with its scratched paint in lurid colours and showed them how to fasten the five-point harness.

  Five points?

  Mercury’s Wings, how did she ever think this was a good idea?

  All the while, she plastered on a smile as the flashing lights flashed around them and the tinny music played, to show the others how fake-excited she was instead of for-real-petrified.

  Just as Melody clicked her shoulder strap in, an old woman’s hand reached into the cabin. “Not so fast.”

  Mrs Howser!

  Of course the old witch would show up right now.

  “You’re not going on this ride,” Howser yelled at Melody. Then she turned her fury on the Carnie. “Get her out of this, now.”

  Showing no fear of hysterical old ladies, the Carnie turned to Melody and asked, “Do you want to get out sweetheart?”

  For a second Ondine feared Melody would back out and leave her and Hamish twisting like . . . pretzels.

  “Er . . . no. I’m fine thanks.”

  “You are not!” Mrs. Howser yelled.

  Luckily for Ondine, the people in the queue were getting grumpy and moaning about how much time they were wasting.

  “You are coming with me!” Mrs. Howser climbed into the cabin and sat beside Melody, clawing at the harness to get it off.

  Hamish wound his free hand into Ondine’s and brought it to his lips. “Isn’t it loavely that we ken make other people’s wishes come true?”

  A bell went off in her head. “You’re so smart, have I told you that?” She knew if they shared a hug or a kiss, magic would happen – for other people. And right now, Ondine bet her next hot meal Melody would be wishing Mrs. Howser would get out of here.

  Ondine leaned forward, but her harness held her back from Hamish’s lips.

  Mrs. Howser kept tugging at Melody’s harness to get it off. “You are not doi
ng this to me, not after all the work I’ve put in!”

  Hamish leaned forward as far as he could. Their lips were millimetres apart.

  “Got it!” Mrs. Howser cried out in victory as one of Melody’s shoulder straps came free.

  The ride started up. “That’s against health and safety!” the carnie cried out, as she pulled the emergency shutdown lever. It sparked and smoked, but failed to stop the ride.

  Mrs Howser was probably the one making it run. If Ondine could kiss Hamish, she could make the carnie’s wish come true. The wish she should be having about stopping the ride. Unless the carnie was having worse wishes that Ondine didn’t want to think about.

  Pressing forward, Ondine tried to reach Hamish. Their lips remained frustratingly apart.

  “I have tae change,” Hamish said, pulling back.

  The pain would be hideous, but if Hamish changed into a Shambles ferret, he could slip out of his harness. But that would mean he’d be a ferret and Ondine had become so used to him not being one. Plus, if he changed back into human and didn’t do it exactly the right way inside his clothes, the ride would lose its PG-12 rating.

  “Wait!” Ondine cried out as Hamish’s face turned fuzzy and black.

  “No!” Mrs. Howser screamed as she noticed what Hamish was up to. In a flash of light and noise, she struck Hamish with a burst of magic to stop him transforming.

  “Right, out you get!” Mrs. Howser crowed with victory as she pulled Melody from her seat.

  Defiantly, Melody screamed, “I will not!”

  Ondine lunged; the momentum caused the harness to slip off her shoulder. Her face smacked into Hamish’s almost-fuzzy chin in the least elegant, least romantic kiss on the planet.

  Hamish cradled her face with his palms; fuzzy palms that were not-properly-Hamish-like. His face too was gnarled and hairy.

  Not the tiniest bit lovely, the way she loved her loveable Hamish.

  “It’s me, Ondi, and I’ll love ye till the day I die.”

  She looked into his face, a face dark around the edges but not completely transformed into his other persona. Hair sprouted from his eyebrows, ears and nose. She needed to love him with all her heart yet all she could think of was how ferret-like he’d become.

  Perhaps, perhaps if she truly kissed him with a pure heart, he might change back? “I love you Hamish.” She breathed in, then planted the most beautiful, the most tender, the most emotional kiss she had in her arsenal.

  Fireworks went off inside her head.

  Mrs. Howser screamed like a kicked dog.

  The cabin door slammed shut.

  Ondine and Hamish broke away from their most beautiful kiss in the universe and looked at the two seats opposite. Melody was strapped in again, nice and tightly.

  And so was Mrs. Howser.

  Melody must have wished it!

  The ride whirred into action.

  “Arrrrrghghghghghghghgh!” Mrs. Howser screamed.

  Hang on. Melody was supposed to wish the old witch out of here. Not keep her with them. Unless . . .

  “Suck it up!” Melody said, sounding very un-Melody-like as she peeled her eyes wide open. “Set me free or you get a double dose!”

  Because of Mrs. Howser’s connection with Melody, she would get twice the ride and twice the sickness.

  “Melody you’re brilliant,” Ondine said.

  Hamish screamed as they spun and tumbled and fell and rose and lurched in every which way. Much to Ondine’s disappointment, their incredible kiss had not cured his face-fur.

  Nausea kicked in. Nasty, lurchy, hot-and-coldy nausea that grabbed Ondine in the guts and twisted. Hard.

  She clamped her mouth shut.

  “Nooooooo!” Mrs. Howser cried.

  Ondine felt so proud of Melody – what a fantastic wish under pressure. Having Mrs. Howser with them was the perfect punishment. Her grimacing gave Ondine something to focus on while they dropped and soared and dived and twisted and churned and rolled and rolled again.

  It felt like the ride would never end. Just as it slowed it sped up again, sending them through all those hideous motions once more.

  Thank goodness they’d left Old Col out of this. She wouldn’t have survived.

  “Break the link!” Melody yelled.

  “Never!” Mrs. Howser’s voice cracked but her expression remained defiant.

  Melody clung to her shoulder straps in the same way her hair clung to her perspiring face. “The ride won’t stop until you break the link. I wished it that way.”

  Beside Ondine, Hamish moaned. She didn’t dare look in case he disgraced himself. Lurch. Shudder. Drop. Rise. Tilt. Tumble. Wobble. Hot sick burned the back of her throat. If this ride didn’t stop soon she’d make such a mess. The lurching and twisting plastered her hair over her damp face, but the g-forces pinned her arms back making her unable to clear her vision.

  “You are in so much trouble!” Mrs. Howser cried out.

  It couldn’t be true. Melody was enjoying herself? “That goes double for you!” She yelled back.

  Spin. Drop. Twist. Spin. Pike. That was just for Ondine. Mrs. Howser was getting it in stereo.

  “Make it stop!” the witch cried.

  Melody pressed her advantage and said exactly what Ondine was thinking, “It stops when you break the link!”

  An anguished howl erupted from Mrs. Howser. “Nooooooo.”

  “Do it!”

  “Never!”

  “Then we stay here forever.”

  “You can’t!”

  Determination filled Melody’s face. “I can and I will. I’m having a great time, wheeeeeee!”

  ​

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ​

  The ride, would it never end?

  Mrs. Howser made a pathetic mewling noise and began to cry.

  Ondine’s stomach leapt into her throat.

  Over and over they tumbled and spun in space, held firmly in harness. No way out for any of them until Mrs. Howser gave in.

  The interminable ride rode on. For the rest of Ondine’s life if she never saw a fairground again it would be too soon. She resorted to silent begging, as if she had some kind of psychic link to Mrs. Howser to beg her to stop.

  Lurch, spin, twist, drop, spin, drop, lurch, lurch.

  With a weak admission of defeat, Mrs. Howser said, “Make it stop.” A sob escaped and she crimped her eyes shut. “You win.”

  Suddenly, the ride stopped.

  Ondine’s stomach crashed back into position.

  The Carnie lady opened the cabin door with a huge smile. “All done? Who needs help with their –” Her jaw dropped for a second. Then she called out to someone they couldn’t see. “Marko? We’re gonna need the hose again.”

  If the world would stop spinning, Ondine could give Melody a hug for being so very brave and clever.

  Mrs. Howser was the last to leave the ride. She staggered out, all crumpled of spirit and damp of face. “You’ll pay for this.”

  As if her brains were still spinning (and lurching and dropping and tilting and rising, then tilting and dropping at the same time) Mrs. Howser’s words dropped in to Ondine’s brain and flew straight out again. Let the woman say or do what she liked. Nothing Mrs. Howser could magic could possibly make Ondine feel any worse right now.

  “Oh you poor thing!” they heard a man call out.

  Through the blur of moving buildings and spinning lights, Ondine’s stomach clenched harder.

  Turns out it was possible to feel worse because Lord Vincent came into view.

  He looked . . . he looked concerned and almost, kind. How he managed that Ondine had no idea.

  “You poor dear, let me help you,” Vincent said as he approached Mrs. Howser and held her steady. That blue hand looked bluer than ever. Had he turned it into a tattoo? “Everything is all right now. Here, have some cold water, it will make you feel better.”

  By this point in Ondine’s life, she should have known the expression, “Things can’t get any wo
rse,” was a total lie. Because right now, Vincent’s act of chivalry in offering Mrs. Howser a cool drink in her moment of distress made everything a whole lot worse.

  “What a nice man,” someone in the crowd said.

  “I think that’s Lord Vincent,” another said.

  “Isn’t he lovely?”

  “So sweet.”

  “He makes me swoon.”

  And so on ad nauseam.

  Hamish’s clammy hand held Ondine’s. “As if the ride wasnae sickening enough.”

  Ondine looked into Hamish’s handsome face and jumped in shock. His features were still fixed in the starting-to-turn-into-a-ferret phase.

  “What’s wrong, hen?” Hamish’s hands flew to his face, where he must have felt the fur for himself. “Aw naw! I’m ugly!”

  Ondine gulped and tried not to admit anything. She felt sick enough from the ride, let alone his messed-up face. “We’ll fix it, I promise.”

  “Let’s scram,” Melody said as she reached Ondine.

  Ondine barely dared hope. “Is the link . . .?”

  “Broken? Yes,” she confirmed.

  “Then let’s get oot of here,” Hamish said.

  Old Col ambled up with extra napkins so they could wipe their faces.

  “Don’t suppose you’ve got any water?” Ondine asked.

  Old Col tisked. “That was too clever of Vincent. Turning up at the right moment, helping a lady in distress. You can bet it will be all over the news inside an hour. Meanwhile, where’s Anathea? What’s she doing to make people like her? Hmm? What’s she doing to get the crowd on her side? And . . . Hamish dear, what’s happened to your face?”

  “Can we work that out tomorrow? I need to lie down,” Ondine said. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she fell upon a bank of snow as if it were a bed. “Oh. This is so good.”

  “That’s enough, child,” Old Col said. “We need to get home quickly. The rest of the city is probably in lockdown because of the blackout and the looting.”

  As far as Ondine was concerned, those were real-life problems affecting other people. She had to ice the nausea away before she could even think about walking home. That gave her a new thought. “Old Col, if there’s no electricity, how do we get the train home?”

  “They’ll most likely switch to diesel engines,” she said.