Mermagic

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Mermagic Page 13

by Lucia Ashta


  I tried to pull back to protest, but he wouldn’t let me. He laced his arms around my lower back and pulled me against him, harder. “He wouldn’t regret what he’d done, Clara. He’d know he did the right thing, and it was the right thing.”

  “Why? Why was it the right thing? That he should die so I might live?”

  It was Mordecai who answered from off to the side. “Because he saw what we all see.”

  I turned my head against Marcelo’s chest to look at the old wizard. “Oh? And what is that?”

  “That your magic is unique. It’s what we’ve been waiting for.”

  Albacus added, “You’ll usher in a new age in the world of magic, a new way of doing magic.”

  Mordecai was starting to get excited. “Imagine, magicians across the world tapping into this fifth element? Capable of doing magic free from the rigidity of spells?”

  “It will be incredible,” Mordecai and Albacus said at precisely the same time.

  The brothers who’d lived nearly as long as Count Washur, sharing in magic and experience, were reunited. After Mordecai had feared he’d never see his brother again, I wasn’t sure he minded all that much that Albacus wasn’t corporeal.

  “You know, now that I’m the only one who’s living,” Mordecai said to his brother, “I’m the one who’ll be right, by default.”

  “And how do you figure that?”

  “Because I’m alive and you’re not, which makes me the ultimate authority on the ways of the living.”

  “Oh no it doesn’t. I now possess both the wisdom of the living and the dead. That makes me doubly right.”

  “Really? That’s the most ridiculous argument you’ve ever made. You’re dead so now you’re doubly right?”

  “That’s what I just said.”

  I looked up at Marcelo and purposefully ignored the rest of the brothers’ argument. “They’re already back to the way things were,” I said, beginning to experience a lightness in my chest I wanted to feel more of.

  Marcelo smiled and the corners of his blue eyes crinkled. “They could go on like this forever. And enjoy every second of it.”

  I settled my cheek back against Marcelo’s chest contentedly, happy to ignore the brothers, our losses, and the scars Mirvela left against Marcelo’s flesh. The prices for our life experiences had been high, but here we were, living. I listened to the beating of the heart of the man I loved and felt my own slip into the same rhythm.

  I circled my arms around his waist and pressed my bare body against his. This was so outside of Mother’s ideas of propriety that there was no point in considering them. Little about my life as of late related to my previous life at Norland Manor, the one Mother and Father spent so much effort tailoring for the life they wanted for me.

  But I’d chosen the life I wanted, and it involved Marcelo.

  I wanted to spend the rest of my life in his embrace, preferably as naked as we were now.

  The ring on my hand glowed, and this time, I felt it growing warm against his waist. “I think I’m ready now,” I murmured, feeling mischievous at the thoughts I was having.

  “Ready for what, exactly?” At the tone of Marcelo’s voice, I realized his thoughts had drifted where mine had, and I felt his body shift in confirmation.

  I looked up into his deep blue eyes, because this was something I wouldn’t shy away from saying. “To marry you... and to share all of myself with you.”

  He smiled, and his joy saturated the blue of his eyes.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “That I’ve been waiting for a long time for you to say that. You said you wanted to wait until you understood who you were before we married. You feel that you do now?”

  “I understand enough. I understand who I am and who I’m becoming. That’s enough for me because now I want to discover who I might become sharing myself with you. I’m not frightened of who I am anymore. I’m excited by it, and I’m excited by you.” I pressed myself against him until flesh merged with flesh, until the beating of hearts began to sound as one.

  I startled. Mordecai and Albacus suddenly appeared on either side of us. “Well,” Mordecai said, “I think it’s time to get you two married, don’t you think, Albacus?”

  “That I do, brother. Because never before have I seen two so ready to become one.”

  I looked to Albacus, shocked, wondering if he’d intended the deeper implication of his words. The twinkle in his eyes, apparent even in the shadows of the spirit world, confirmed that he did.

  Marcelo tilted my face toward his with a finger. Staring into my eyes, he said, “Don’t worry about them. There’s only you and me, right here, right now.”

  And then he kissed me.

  I thought I might never again wish to know anything but him.

  Chapter 25

  Marcelo and I were the last to join the others in the clearing, but no one looked at us when we arrived. It seemed that everyone understood our desire to live fully and with passion. Facing death and surviving it—or partly surviving it, as was the case with Albacus—did that to people.

  But besides that, the merpeople were focused on Randolph, which meant that Grand-mère, the brothers, and Brave were focused on Randolph too. Even the merqueen, whose name was Urlan, was fawning over the monstrous-looking creature that proved that appearances could be deceiving.

  The pale Count Washur with his fair looks had entrapped fifty-five souls into his prison of darkness, whereas Randolph, who looked as monstrous as Washur had truly been, was gentle and kind, and the recipient of the affections of a tribe of merpeople.

  “You’re so beautiful, Randolph,” Urlan was saying while she pet him. “You’ve never come to visit us before. I wish you had, you’re such a magnificent animal. I hope you’ll visit us often now that we’ve met.”

  Randolph didn’t speak in a way I understood, but his demeanor indicated he’d be back and often. He appeared to be enjoying the attention, and I didn’t blame him. I longed to be the focus of Urlan’s attention even though I didn’t understand exactly why.

  Grand-mère was on Randolph’s other side, nuzzling the giant fish with oversized eyes. “I’m glad he’ll come see you now. It’ll be good to know he’s appreciated and well taken care of.”

  Of course, Randolph had done just fine in the sea before Grand-mère came along, but now that she’d adopted him, she was concerned for his well-being. I leaned into Marcelo’s side and watched.

  “We’ll take very good care of him,” Urlan said, “I promise you that. My people are excellent with the animals of the sea. But then, so are you.” Urlan focused those sparkling eyes that matched her sparkling tail on Grand-mère. “How is that? I haven’t met a witch who was this way with the animals of the ocean, the way we are with them.”

  Urlan’s gaze was curious, and she abandoned her spot next to Randolph to better study Grand-mère. Her spot was immediately taken by two of her people, who proceeded to admire Randolph with words I didn’t comprehend. Only Urlan spoke a language we understood, her people didn’t.

  Urlan rounded Grand-mère and then hovered next to her, long hair glinting in the glow of the orbs that surrounded us. She lowered her voice, but I strained my ears to make out every word. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Lady Ariadne of Acquaine, Merqueen Urlan.”

  Urlan tilted her head the other way, appearing to study something about Grand-mère that I didn’t see. “What are you, Lady Ariadne?”

  Grand-mère smiled brilliantly, flaming red hair billowing in the water behind her. “I’m a witch, Your Majesty, and a fine one.” In that moment, I couldn’t decide which of the two women was more beautiful: my grandmother with her smooth milky skin, fine features, and brilliant yellow eyes or the queen with her smooth curves, mesmerizing glow, and otherworldly fuchsia irises.

  “Yes, but what else are you?” Urlan asked, and my heart slowed its beating.

  The merqueen of these waters was asking my grandmother what she was, implying she was some
thing beyond a witch. As if my grandmother resurfacing when I believed her dead, and later discovering she was a witch, capable of magic, in my bloodline, hadn’t been enough to leave my brain reeling, now a merqueen was suggesting Grand-mère was something greater than this. But... what? What could Grand-mère be?

  One look at Grand-mère told me that she knew. Or at least, she suspected. She looked like the proverbial cat who got caught eaten the canary, or Count Washur confronted with stealing lives to prolong his own—she looked... pleased.

  Urlan stopped circling Grand-mère and faced her. “Lady Ariadne, you have mer blood in you.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

  My heart dropped somewhere around my feet, leapt back into my chest, and started beating so frantically that I struggled to focus on the words that came next.

  Grand-mère said, “I’ve long suspected, once I started realizing how far my talents with animals extended, but I wasn’t certain. You’re sure?”

  “Very sure. It’s umistakable now that I see it. How did this come to be?”

  Urlan was discussing my grandmother’s mer origins as if it were a foregone conclusion, but my mind was stammering to keep up. A witch and a merwoman? How was that possible?

  And then the inevitable question: And what does that make me? And Gertrude? The rest of my sisters?

  Grand-mère didn’t spare me a look. “I’m not exactly sure, but I think that either my grandmother or great-grandmother made love with a merman.”

  “Wait, is that possible?” I spluttered.

  Grand-mère and Urlan smiled knowingly, but Urlan answered, “Very. It happens more often that you realize.”

  There was so much more I wanted to say right then, but my mind wasn’t operating properly. The ramifications of their conversation had blown my mind wide open.

  Marcelo’s mind appeared to be operating normally, however, and he asked a question I hadn’t even arrived at yet. “Would the effects of the merging of magic continue, even that far down into the bloodline?”

  “Oh yes,” Urlan said. “Our magic is very potent. It’d take many generations for it to fade completely.”

  “How many?”

  Urlan looked at me. “Many.”

  As in, many more than me. Which meant I had merblood in me. Less than Grand-mère, but enough.

  And I’d thought accepting I was a witch was challenge enough.

  Had I ever been wrong...

  I missed the next beats of Grand-mère and Urlan’s conversation, even though I realized how important it was that I listen, but my brain was struggling to catch up. I needed time and space to process, yet this was a luxury I didn’t have. Perhaps I never would again. I’d left nearly everything about my quiet life at Norland Manor behind when I left it, most especially the quiet time with little to do but needlepoint.

  When I zoned in again, I was grateful that I had. Grand-mère and Urlan were discussing a topic maybe even more important than Grand-mère’s provenance, and mine.

  Grand-mère was saying, “So she’ll remain here with you?”

  They were discussing Mirvela.

  “If that’s agreeable to you,” Urlan said.

  Mordecai interjected, “You’ll be able to control her? Keep her from harming others?”

  “Most definitely.” The look Urlan gave Mirvela just then left me with no doubt that Urlan wouldn’t allow the other merwitch any of her old ways.

  Mirvela shrunk from Urlan’s determined gaze, and I felt myself relax. I was happy to pass off Mirvela. If she could become someone else’s problem, that suited me just fine.

  Urlan said, “And I apologize for my delay in interfering and subduing her. You see, she tricked me. When she first arrived she convinced me that you were out to hurt her, that she was a victim to your efforts to pursue and kill her. She even told me that you were intent on stealing her life and her magic to power your own.”

  “When it was the complete opposite,” Mordecai said.

  “Yes, and once I was sure of it, that’s when I took Anna from her and put her under my control.”

  “I’ve bound her magic, but she still appears to have access to the magic of whomever she’s stolen it from.”

  “I see that, old wizard. I have ways to control her that only belong to the merpeople,” she said with a quick glance toward Grand-mère—and me.

  “Should I leave my binding of her magic in place then?”

  “If you wish. I don’t need it, so it doesn’t matter much to me.”

  “It also doesn’t seem to be working much, brother,” Albacus said. “Maybe you should retract that cord of your energy so you aren’t connected to her anymore.”

  “You’re certain my bindings aren’t helping you control her at all?” Mordecai asked Urlan.

  “Completely.”

  “All right then,” Mordecai said, eyeing Mirvela.

  “That reminds me,” Marcelo said, leaving my side and swimming toward his nephew. “My full range of magic has been restored to me. I can now undo your bindings.”

  Brave said, “You trust me now?”

  “Completely. Do you trust me?”

  Brave smiled shyly. “I do.”

  “You understand now that Washur was the one who harmed and killed Clarissa?”

  Brave’s smile fell. “Yes.” He paused, “Will you tell me what she was like?”

  “I’ll tell you all about my dearest sister, the one I love so much. But we have all the time in the world for that. First, let’s get these bindings off you. You’re my nephew, and I never want to do anything that hurts you.”

  Brave nodded.

  “You have a true family now,” Marcelo said, and when Brave started to cry, uncle pulled nephew close and held him for long enough to mend the scars of their past—at least those that could be mended. In that one gesture, much of the damage Washur did was erased.

  Love had begun to override the paths of pain.

  Chapter 26

  Urlan offered to give Carlton a death ceremony she usually reserved for her people. We left the decision up to Marcelo, who’d been closest to the butler, and he quickly agreed to it. Carlton had died in the ocean, which made the ceremony fitting, and besides, Carlton was the last of his line. He’d outlived his parents and never had children. There was no one better positioned to make the decision than the current Count of Bundry and the person to whom Carlton had dedicated his life.

  By saving mine, Carlton had given Marcelo the ultimate gift.

  The entire tribe of merpeople, including children, gathered to offer Carlton the honor of their sendoff, and even though Urlan led the ceremony in their native language, it was beautiful.

  Without understanding the words, I grasped their meaning. Urlan’s gesture impacted me almost as much as the merwoman herself.

  By the time she released Carlton’s body to the sea’s currents, every one of us new to this ceremony was shaken to the bone. Even Albacus, who no longer had solid bones to shake, was rattled.

  Urlan attributed beauty and meaning to Carlton’s life, and to his sacrifice in death, with every one of her movements and intonations.

  I couldn’t imagine a better way to send off the man who’d given his life to save mine.

  And when two of the merpeople delivered Count Washur’s body to the spot where Carlton’s had only just been, I startled. I wasn’t the only one.

  Mordecai was angry and Marcelo conflicted.

  But Urlan just raised a hand to quiet them both.

  She didn’t allow them the opportunity to object before she uttered words that sounded like a prayer of intention, and I imagined she was saying something that would help transform any darkness that might remain within the Count’s form into light. Perhaps she also included something that might help guide Count Washur’s spirit to a place of peace, since Mordecai didn’t appear to understand her any better than I did.

  But that was it—brief words spoken over a man who’d managed to cause harm for centuries—then sh
e released his body to the waters, which carried him in the opposite direction as they did Carlton.

  I sensed Marcelo relax behind me as the ocean visibly separated the bodies of the men, sending them on different paths, as if the sea acknowledged the impact both men left behind on the living.

  When Carlton’s body had completely faded into the accepting ocean, and the glowing orbs of the mervillage no longer illuminated the pale hair and face of Count Washur, I knew it was time to go. I didn’t say it, yet the others seemed to sense it too.

  We had to get Anna out of here and back to familiar ground, where she might begin her recovery. And through everything we’d been through down here, I hadn’t forgotten the little sister that waited for me at the castle.

  When I’d snuck out of the castle, Gertrude was Mina the cat, but I hoped that would soon change, if it hadn’t already.

  Grand-mère’s twin brother, her real brother, not the one Count Washur had impersonated, was supposed to be arriving at Bundry Castle at any moment. Grand-mère said he was even more skilled than she was with animals, and even though transforming Mina back into Gertrude would be a challenge for even the best of magicians now that the one who performed the transfiguration was dead, Grand-mère was confident that her brother, Gustave, was the man for the job.

  I was in a hurry to see if he’d arrived in the night, but I was in an even greater hurry to see if, when Count Washur had died, his spell over Mina had dissolved just as it had with Marcelo. It was certainly possible, and I could barely contain my excitement.

  I’d longed to be reunited with Gertrude since the moment I left her in the middle of the night, in the throes of a fever my parents thought would kill me. Instead, it awakened the magic within me.

  It awakened the real me. And there was no turning back.

  The path for me lay directly ahead.

  It was time for the next phase of my life, the one that left Count Washur and Mirvela squarely in the past.

 

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