Parting Worlds - A Little Mermaid Retelling (Once Upon a Curse Book 4)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Nymia's laughter echoes across the air.

  Mine joins hers, and I clutch my stomach from the pain of so much joy.

  Then another unruly thought intrudes.

  I wonder if Erick likes storms.

  My smile falters and I stare up at the sky, searching for the moon, hidden somewhere behind the clouds. I've heard humans are afraid of storms—that they're terrified of the tremendous power of nature, of Mother. I revel in her might.

  "What are you doing?" Nymia asks as I roll up from the ground. I can tell by her tone she already knows—she just wants to make sure I know she doesn't approve.

  I ignore her and dig a shallow hole in the sand. Pressing my palms to the saturated grains, I draw the water in, until a wide puddle forms. Then I murmur the words I know my sister definitely doesn’t want to hear.

  “Nachtinn eoscu ma mhoin.”

  Water, reveal my wish.

  I only want to see for a second, I tell myself. A quick peek and then I'm done. But as the colors dancing across the water sharpen to a clear image, a gasp escapes my lips and fear spikes deep into my heart.

  Erick lies splayed across the dirt like a fallen tree, with a broken birdcage by his side. Blood leaks from a cut on his forehead, slipping down the side of his face with the rain, so his skin is stained red. The hound whimpers by his side, nudging his ribs. He doesn't move. He doesn't blink. He's far too still.

  I'm on my feet before I even realize what I'm doing, not a thought in my mind but to save him.

  "Aerewyn, where are you going?" Nymia grabs my hand, stopping me.

  "He's hurt. He needs help."

  "So?" my sister asks, shaking her head and clamping her fingers around mine when I try to pull away. "That's not our concern. You can't go through the protection spells again, not so soon. Priestess Sytrene will take your magic for a month!"

  "I don't care!" The truth in those words shocks even me. Nymia straightens and blinks twice, as though seeing me through new eyes. A twinge stirs deep in my chest. "He was saving the phoenix, Nymia. There was a broken cage by his side. He risked his life to free a being made of magic."

  "Think about what you're doing—"

  "He's going to die," I cut her off, closing my eyes against the brutal reality. All I see are the red rivers running down his smooth cheekbones, and the stillness of his chest. I blink the image away. "I can't— I won't let that happen."

  "Aerewyn, he's a human. He's mortal. Dying is what they're supposed to do."

  "Not so soon," I whisper. Faeries don't age, not like humans. Our connection to the Father gives us immortal youth. But sometimes, if a faerie has made a grave enough mistake, the priests have the power to sever that tie and rip the magic from their soul. I saw one such faerie, with wrinkled skin like a dried prune and hair as white as snow, with a back hunched over as though constantly in pain and bones so brittle the slightest fall could break them. That's how humans are supposed to die—when they're old and gray, after they've lived. I can't imagine the boy I've been spying on as an old man, but he deserves to become one someday. "He can't die like this, Nymia. Not like this."

  She sighs. "How would we even find him?"

  The we in that sentence makes me smile. "I don't—"

  A caw cuts me off.

  I lift my face toward the sky, spotting a blazing flame among the charcoal clouds, burning despite the rain. It’s the phoenix. "Nymia, look!"

  "How…?"

  "It must've sensed our magic. See, it wants us to save him!"

  The bird swoops down and lands on a nearby tree. Where water touches its smoldering feathers, steam rises, but the branch below its claws doesn’t burn.

  "What will we tell the priestesses? If they know we snuck out to help a human…" She doesn't have to finish.

  I shudder even thinking what our punishment would be, and pull my lower lip between my teeth. An idea sparks. I meet the black eyes watching me from overhead, wondering how many lifetimes they've seen, how many tricks the immortal soul within them could show me. "Do you know a way around the protection spell?"

  The phoenix tilts its head to the side, then takes off with one swoop of its expansive wings. I dash after, not waiting for my sister to follow, though moments later I hear her feet splashing in the mud. Guided by fiery tail feathers, we race along the river's edge as fast as our feet will take us. The protection spell hums louder and louder the closer we get, until finally I see the subtle shimmer of magic in the air, extending as far left and right as my eyes can see—an invisible, yet impenetrable, wall. There's no way around it.

  Nymia and I skid to a stop.

  The phoenix dives into the river, disappearing into the choppy whitecaps as steam rises from the surface of the water. It reappears a moment later, a few feet away, wet and sizzling as it soars back into the air, struggling in these wild winds.

  Could it really be so easy?

  I shake my head, amazed. "I—I think it wants us to swim."

  "Is that— I mean, will that?"

  "I don't know." My gaze falls to the rapidly churning water, made raging by the storm. "Let me go first, in case it's not safe. In case the protection spell extends beneath the surface. You don't need to risk so much. This is my mistake to make."

  Nymia looks at the river, then back to me. "If you think I'm letting you do this alone, you're crazy."

  "Nymia—"

  "I've already come this far, haven't I?" she mutters and takes my hand. "Now, come on, before I change my mind."

  Together, we jump.

  The current takes us immediately, nearly ripping our hands apart though we grip each other tightly. I kick with my legs and drive my free arm through the water, but we're moving the wrong way. Reaching deep within, I call on my magic, trying to calm the rush. It works a little, so I push harder. The water begins to flow around us, rather than against us, as though we're an arrow shooting upstream. Nymia grows kelp along the riverbed, tugging on the strands as though they're rope. Inch by inch, we make our way beneath the water, using our power to fill our lungs with air. A glittering sheen of magic lights the choppy surface. I squeeze my sister's hand, and she squeezes back, but there's no time to question. We push forward and emerge on the other side with a gasp, then collapse on the sandy bank.

  We did it.

  We're through.

  "Do you think that worked?" Nymia whispers.

  A smile widens my lips. "I didn't feel the sting of the spell."

  "Me neither."

  Her voice has a wary, almost foreboding tone. Meanwhile, an electric charge simmers beneath my skin as a new world of possibilities fills my thoughts.

  I can sneak out.

  I can leave the faerie lands without the priestesses knowing.

  I wonder if I could bring someone in…

  The phoenix caws, reminding me this night is far from through. I roll to my feet, pushing those thoughts away for another time.

  "Come on."

  We run in silence for another ten minutes, this time deeper into the forest, leaving the water far behind. Leaves smack my face. Branches creak and groan overhead. The wind presses into my chest like a physical force, and I jump when a boom shakes the ground, the final act of a fallen tree. The storm is getting worse.

  How much farther?

  How much longer?

  As I think it, a lonely howl carries toward us on the wind. I spot the hound's fake leg first, as a flash of lightning catches the metal gears, making them gleam across the darkness. The phoenix sweeps low, ignoring the barking dog to land on Erick's chest. The rest of his body is half-submerged in a growing puddle, legs buried so deep all I can see are the tips of his leather boots sticking out from the water. I fall to my knees by his side and grab his wrist, relieved to find a soft pulse thrumming beneath his skin.

  He's alive.

  I exhale for the first time in what feels like an hour.

  He's alive. He's okay.

  And I'm touching him.

  I'm actually touching hi
m.

  The realization is so shocking I snatch my arm away. The warm touch of his skin lingers, prickling my fingertips, a new sort of magic I don't understand.

  I glance at Nymia. "What do we do?"

  "I don't know." Her gaze darts to his face and she winces. "I could try a healing poultice, but I don't know if it will work."

  The phoenix snaps its wings, as though telling us to be quiet, then hops up Erick's chest. It leans over his face, hovering above the deep wound as a single tear leaks from the corner of its eye. Even though it's hardly full-grown and still at the very start of its newest life cycle, the magic within its soul is ancient and strong. As soon as the droplet splashes against the cut, Erick's skin begins to heal. Illuminated by the magical creatures surrounding him—our skin and feathers brightly glowing—the wound on his face seals slowly shut, shifting from angry maroon to subtle pink, then disappearing entirely as the rain washes all the evidence away.

  But Erick doesn't open his eyes.

  The dog cries softly, curling into a ball against his human's side.

  I glance at the phoenix, frowning, but its eyes are already on the sky. The bird has done all it can do—the debt is paid. Those onyx pupils don't glance back as it takes off and vanishes into the night.

  "Wait!" Nymia calls, but the phoenix is gone. She looks back to me. "Now what do we do?"

  "I—"

  But I don't know what to say, what to do. My gaze falls back to Erick, and I lift my fingers to brush the wet ebony hairs from his pale skin. He could be sleeping, if I didn’t know any better. He looks so peaceful.

  When I glance back to Nymia, she's watching us with a scowl.

  I let my hand fall to the ground. "We need to move him somewhere safe, somewhere warm, until the storm is over. We need to find shelter."

  "Where?"

  An idea sparks. "The—"

  "Don’t even think it," Nymia chides.

  "You don't know what I was going to say!"

  "The cave," she accuses. "You were going to say the cave."

  Did I mention how much I hate it when she's right?

  "Not our cave," I explain. "I won't bring him into the faerie lands. I don't even know how." I mean, I have an idea, but my sister doesn’t need to know that. "But our cave is part of a whole system of caves, and some of them are on the human side. We can take him there."

  Nymia hesitates, not answering as she squeezes her eyes shut. A worry line wrinkles her nose, and she lifts her fingers to pinch the raised flesh. I wait, and wait, and wait, until—

  Lightning shatters the sky.

  A crack reverberates through the forest and she jolts.

  "Fine!" Her eyes go wide as though her mouth has betrayed her, and then they narrow in on me. "But this is it, Aerewyn. Promise me this is it. That after tonight, after we know he's safe, you won't see him again. Promise me."

  I groan. "Nym—"

  "Don't Nymia me! I swam under the protection spell for you. I ran into human lands for you. I'm saving this boy for you. I broke who knows how many of our most vital rules for you. You can do this one thing for me. He's dangerous, Aerewyn. They're all dangerous."

  She's right.

  I know she's right.

  So why is my chest tightening at the thought of never seeing him again?

  A lump in my throat holds the words in, but I force them out. "I promise."

  Nymia releases a soft breath and my heart sinks.

  Together, we use our magic to stretch a leaf as long as his body, and then we roll him onto the waxy tarp. I grab one side and she grabs the other. For a moment, we lock eyes, the promise stretching between us unspoken. Then we race through the storm, with the hound following diligently at our heels.

  After tonight, I think, replaying Nymia's words, unsure if they were a kindness or a mistake. I glance up into the gloomy sky, wondering how many hours lie between now and dawn. If one night is all I have, I plan to make it count.

  One night will have to last me one lifetime.

  We drag Erick through the storm for nearly an hour before we find a safe place to rest. The rocky alcove is smaller than my cave and not nearly as hidden, but it's dry aside from the deep stream running down the center, and more importantly warm, especially after we light a fire. He's safe, for now. We are too, I hope, though I know my sister won't be at ease until we're back on the other side of the protection spell, on faerie lands once again.

  I look through the entrance toward the sky. It's still dark, but dawn can't be far off. Time already seems to be rushing through my fingers, and Erick hasn't even opened his eyes.

  "Can we go now?" Nymia asks. "He'll be safe in here."

  "He hasn't even woken up yet."

  "All the more reason…" She trails off pointedly.

  I glare at her over my shoulder.

  Nymia rolls her eyes and plops down to a seated position on the mud, crossing her arms indignantly. That's fine with me. While she pouts, I kneel beside Erick, unable to quite believe he's real. After watching him in the scrying water for so long, I thought I knew him, but as I look at him now, he feels like a secret I can't wait to uncover.

  I've never been this close to a human.

  I've never been this close to a man, either.

  He's so much bigger than I imagined. When I first saw him from the tree, he didn't seem nearly so tall, but now I feel as small as a pixie sitting beside him. I need both my hands to hold one of his. Yet he's thin, with wide shoulders and a tapered waist. When I press my palm to his chest—just to make sure his heart is beating—the muscles beneath my hand are solid. I can't help but remember the sight of him in the lake, half-naked while he swam. My cheeks flush and I pull away, focusing on his clothes instead. They're strange, with so many buttons and clasps and seams I can't imagine how they're comfortable, but I guess that's a human thing, like his odd skin. I'm so used to faeries, to the silver-and-gold glitter always glowing beneath our skin, that his seems miraculously dull in comparison. Yet when I press the backs of my fingers to his cheek, there's a spark, as though he's got a power all his own hidden somewhere underneath.

  "Leave me alone," Nymia grumbles behind me.

  I turn, grinning at the sight of the hound busily sniffing the ground around her, occasionally pressing his wet nose against her arm, then her hair, then her dress. She pushes the dog away, but it only serves to make him more intrigued if the riotous tail-wagging is any indication. This time, he shoves his snout right in her face, forcing Nymia to lean back as far as she can without falling over.

  "Shoo," she orders. "Shoo!"

  He doesn't.

  So my sister flees instead, rolling to her feet and jumping over the stream to the other side of the cave. The hound seems about ready to follow despite the static prickle of my sister's magic warming the air, as though she might send a lightning bolt down at any moment.

  "Come here, boy," I call, stealing Erick's words.

  It works.

  The hound turns and races over, this time pressing his nose to my neck to smell the power thrumming within. A scratchy tongue licks my cheek and I giggle. As though he likes the sound, the dog repeats the gesture, eliciting another soft laugh from my lips as I reach up to scratch his neck.

  "Is this real?" a deep voice whispers.

  I go still.

  The hound, on the other hand, barks and spins, uncontrollably happy as his bum wriggles excitedly in my face. He presses his front paws against his owner's chest and leans over his face, licking and barking away.

  "Okay, okay," Erick whispers joyfully as he pushes the hound away and sits up. His gaze slides to me while he absently scratches the dog's ears. He blinks and shakes his head a little, as though he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing, yet at the same time can't look away.

  I don't know what to say.

  I'm not used to not knowing what to say.

  Instead, I reach up and twirl my crimson hair into a spiral that cascades over my shoulder, cursing myself for not thinking to d
ry it before he woke up. I must look a mess. Though the way he's staring sort of makes me feel beautiful regardless.

  I pull my lips into my mouth to hide my smile.

  "Is this real?" he asks again. "Or am I stuck in a dream?"

  "That depends," I tease lightly. His eyes widen at the sound of my voice. "Do you want this to be real? If not, simply close your eyes and I can vanish like a spirit in the night."

  "No, don't," he answers quickly, reaching out his hand. He stops short of touching me as though worried I'm nothing more than a vision. "Please stay."

  "Okay." I smile and shrug. "I guess I'm real then."

  "I guess you are," he murmurs as the edge of his lip quirks into a grin. Then he closes the distance between us to wrap a strand of my hair around his finger, the red hue bright against his skin. Shocked recognition jolts through him and he lets go. "You're the faerie in the tree!"

  "I am a faerie," I answer, unable to stop the playful words. "And I have been known to sit in trees, though I much prefer a cushy bed of moss or a buoyant lily pad, especially on a hot summer day."

  The corners of his eyes crinkle as a warm current flows into his blue irises, so they glitter like the surface of the ocean beneath the sun. The sight thrills me in a way nothing has before.

  "Is that so?" he asks, tone amused. "Why?"

  "Have you ever sat in a tree?"

  "I can't say that I have."

  "Well, I don’t recommend it." I shake my head and wrinkle my nose. "Very scratchy."

  He laughs outright, and a spike of heat shoots through my chest, so hot the rest of me tingles with the burn. "And where would you rate the bumpy floor of a damp stone cave?"

  The intensity of his gaze makes me draw in a sharp breath.

  "Adequate, I suppose," I whisper, lungs pulled so tight I can hardly find the air to speak. "Though in the right company, it has a certain charm."

  Nymia makes a sound under her breath.