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

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Instead, I sit beside Nymia and hug my legs to my chest, copying her. With my cheek resting against my knee, I stare at her, silently begging until she finally turns to meet my gaze. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears.

  "Nymia," I plead.

  She swallows, but doesn't speak.

  "Nymia, please."

  A droplet leaks down the side of her face. Normally, I'd try to wipe it away, but my arms are still. Hers aren't. She releases her clasped hands, straightens her legs, and rolls over, lying down on the grass with her back to me. The whispers behind us rise an octave.

  Without another word, I leave.

  The woods hold no answers for me, yet I find myself back at the edge, sitting on the divide, staring into their depths. I've never broken a promise made to Nymia, and I don't want to start now. But I can't stop picturing Erick's face as he stands inside the cave, waiting for a girl who will never come, hopeful, then worried, then pained. I'm torn.

  A scream pulls me from the trance.

  Nymia!

  I'd know that sound anywhere.

  It comes again, a terrified wail, and I'm on my feet, sprinting toward her. When I arrive, Nymia thrashes against the ground, flattening the grass around her while she sleeps. Her hair spreads in strangled knots around her face. A fine layer of sweat covers her arms. The water on her cheeks catches the moonlight.

  No one woke her.

  No one stopped the nightmare.

  Normally, I do. But I wasn't here.

  The other girls sit around and giggle softly at her bizarre behavior. They quiet when I appear, looking at me and wondering what I'll do. The detached curiosity in their eyes enrages me. Without thinking, I draw the drew drops from the field and turn them into tiny frozen pellets to match the ice in my veins. Then I send them racing on the wind. The girls yelp as my attack stings their skin, but it's no worse than they deserve.

  A deep-throated moan draws me back.

  "Nymia!" I call and drop to my knees beside her. "Nymia."

  It's hard to call her from the depths when she's like this. I press my hands to her chest and force my magic into her skin, trying to calm the raging storm inside her heart, trying to quiet her mind. The horror she feels floods into me, making my chest burn. I grit my teeth and take it in, anything to ease her fear. A vision flashes across my mind—the last vestiges of her nightmare. Ebony sludge taints a vast sea. The surface sheens with a rainbow residue. Birds sink into the abyss, unable to fly away, and fish choke on the poison clogging their gills. I've seen this dream of hers many times before. We call it the black death.

  I blink the pictures away.

  "Nymia!"

  Her eyes pop open and she gasps, thrusting to a seated position. I rub her back as she draws in ragged breaths, her pulse running rapid beneath my palm.

  "It's okay," I soothe. "I'm here."

  Her arms come around me as she buries her head against my chest, crying softly, still caught in the panic and doom. I hug her back, running my fingers through her hair as I glare over her shoulder at the girls still brave enough to cast a peek. After a few minutes, she finally sniffles loudly, a sure sign she's returned to the world. Her eyes still glisten as she pulls back and meets my gaze.

  "You came?" There's shock in her voice.

  "Of course I came." How could she doubt? "I'll always come, no matter what."

  "I thought…" She trails off and lifts her face to the sky, looking at the moon. When she turns back to me, the silver glow reflects in her irises. "I thought you'd be gone by now. I thought you'd be with, well, you know."

  "I won't lie, I thought about it." We both laugh softly, even though it's not funny. But the tension between us releases, gone as swiftly as it came. I take her fingers and squeeze them. "But I'd never break my promise. Never."

  She sighs.

  I sigh.

  We keep holding hands.

  "I was trying to protect you," Nymia whispers. She glances behind me, no doubt noticing the other girls, then darts her gaze back to mine. "The way you're always protecting me."

  "I know, but—"

  "This isn't the way," she interrupts, and I let out a relieved exhale. "I don't want to be the source of your pain, Aerewyn. I want to take it away. I want to support you, the way you always support me, but this is different. It's something I can't understand."

  "I'm not sure I understand it either."

  "Can you explain it to me?"

  "I don't know."

  "Can you try?"

  "It's not just another adventure, Nymia," I murmur, lowering my voice so only she can hear. "It's not about the danger, or the excitement, or the thrill. I thought it was, at first, but it's not. It's something more. I don't know what. All I know is that when he looked at me in that cave, I felt seen in a way I never have before. I felt alive. Like maybe all this time I've spent running through the forests at night, I've been searching for the answer to a question I still don't understand. But with his help, I might."

  Nymia blinks and looks to the ground. Shadows shroud her eyes, stealing all the starlight. I'm not sure if my words eased her fears or increased them, but when she lifts her face back up, it's hardened by resigned resolve.

  "Okay."

  My spirit sings. "Okay?"

  "Okay," she repeats with a shake of her head, as though her heart and her mind haven't quite aligned. "The night's half over. We'll need to be quick."

  "We?"

  A wry smile curves her lips. "You didn't really think I'd let you do this alone, did you?"

  Yes?

  Maybe?

  I shouldn't have doubted. We're there for each other—always. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

  As one, we jump to our feet. I feel stares as we race away, but I don't care. Let them watch. Let them whisper. I have my sister. I have the forest. I have a boy with curious eyes and a warm smile waiting for me.

  Right now, I have everything I need.

  When I burst through the stone archway, Erick jumps to his feet, hardly more than a phantom in the dark.

  "You're here!"

  "You're here!"

  We both say it at the same time, then smile. The deep rumble of his laugh echoes across the rocky chamber, joining the high chime of my giggle, surrounding us in a warm cocoon. Ru blinks groggily, staring up at me without bothering to move, though his tail thumps against the floor, joining the song. The fire beside him runs low, hardly more than tawny embers.

  I use my magic to fan the flames, brightening the small cave so I can see Erick clearly—and so he can see me. Unlike last time, I spared a few minutes on our way here to make myself presentable. When Nymia and I emerged from the river, I grabbed a whole handful of reeds and wove the stark green grasses into a loose flowing gown that swishes as I walk. I ran my fingers through my hair, using the wind to dry my red curls, so they roll in waves down my back. Nymia braided a few strands into a crown across my brow, threaded with berries and leaves.

  Erick, I think, made an effort too. A midnight vest hugs his chest, covering a crisp white shirt. Bright gold buttons draw my eye down until I notice the black pants hugging his thighs. The sight brings a slight blush to my cheeks—why do humans wear their clothes so tight? But then I notice his bared feet. Two leather boots rest in a pile near the wall, a sure sign he's been waiting for a while.

  "I'm sorry it took me so long," I rush to say, fighting a rising blush as I focus on his face. It's a view I'm growing rather fond of.

  He breathes in the sight of me, as though he still can't quite believe I'm here. If I'm being honest, I sort of like the way he watches me as though I'm too beautiful, too magical, too amazing to be real. "I told you I'd wait all night."

  "I know," I say with a shrug as my grin twists into something teasing. Deep down, though, there's real worry at the base of my jibe. "I thought that might be something a human boy would say to a faerie girl to make sure she came running back."

  "Aeri," he whispers. The soothing timbre of my name on
those lips rolls over me, sending a tingle down my spine. "I'm not one of those men to say things I don't mean. If I give you my word, I'll never break it."

  "I believe you."

  We both go silent, staring at each other. At first it's nice, a little like being swept away in a current, letting it carry you where it wills. The fire crackles, but our eyes do the simmering. Then it goes on just a bit too long. My nerves tingle. My heart flutters. I remember that we're strangers, and though I've been spying on him for weeks, it's something entirely different to be in his presence, struck dumb without a single word to say.

  "Can I try on your boots?"

  "I have a gift for you!"

  We blurt at the same time, then freeze.

  "My boots?"

  "A gift!"

  Again the words are lost in the chaos.

  "That's the third time we've done that," he says as the edge of his lip quirks. A subtle dimple digs into his cheek. "What do you say we try taking turns? You first, please."

  "Your, um, boots," I murmur, suddenly feeling silly. He has a gift for me? I wonder what. "Could I try them on? I've never worn human shoes before."

  His brows push together in a confused, almost amused sort of way. "I suppose, but they'll be far too big—"

  "I don't mind," I chirp, eagerly stripping away the maple leaf I wrapped around the pad of my foot earlier to make sure a stray stick or rock didn't pinch my skin.

  Erick reaches for his boot, then kneels before me, holding it out like an offering with the bottom balanced on his knee. I have to lift my thigh nearly to my chest just to get my foot through the top. A subtle pink stains his cheeks at the sight of my exposed calf. He hurriedly tightens the laces, then reaches for the other boot. My foot practically slams back onto the ground—it's so heavy! I giggle, and he looks up at me quizzically, but I shake my head, slipping into the second one, this time holding his shoulder so I don't fall. I quite like the feel of his muscles coiling beneath my palm as he adjusts the strappings. When both boots are on, he stands and takes me in with one sweeping gaze. I'm almost certain he's doing his best not to laugh when his lips roll into his mouth and his cheeks puff.

  "So, how do you like them?" he asks, humor thick in his voice.

  "They're…" He made them as tight as can be, but I know my feet are dainty compared to his so the fit is completely off. I don't care. I take a few clumsy steps, marveling at the strangeness. How do humans walk like this? I feel as though I have rocks tied to my feet. I can't sense the ridges of the stone floor. My legs are already warm from the heat. And with every step, a thunk bounces off the walls. "I'd never be able to sneak around the forest in these."

  "No, probably not," he murmurs, holding his fist to his lips to hide his mirth.

  "You wore these all the way here?"

  He shrugs. "They're my favorite pair."

  "But aren't your legs sore?"

  "Why?"

  I jump up and down, listening to the shoes boom, then turn back to him. "They're so heavy. I'd get so tired if I had to lug these around all day."

  "Well, we can't all use leaves." He pointedly drops his gaze to the maple leaves I tore off. "Don't those hurt your feet? They're so thin."

  I shake my head.

  "I wonder…" He trails off.

  "Wonder what?"

  "Oh, it's silly."

  "I'm quite fond of silly things."

  "It's just—" He glances down to his feet, then to mine, then back to my face. "I wonder if they're different."

  "Our feet?" I plop down and yank the boot off, then hold my foot out. "Let's see."

  He takes the empty spot by my side. "This might be the strangest conversation I've ever had with a girl, or well, with anyone."

  "Strange in a bad way?"

  "Strange in the best way."

  I grin and reposition my foot next to his so we can compare the two side by side. We both lean down, heads close as we quietly examine our feet. My sole glows, while his doesn't, but we both have five toes and a bit of an arch.

  "They don't seem different," I muse.

  "May I?"

  I nod and he runs a finger over the ridges of my foot, soft enough it doesn't tickle, but long enough for a different sort of tingle to travel up my leg. He pulls his hand away too soon.

  "The pads of your feet are thicker."

  I'm a bit breathless. "Really?"

  "Mm-hmm," he murmurs, still staring. His gaze is almost as tangible as a caress as it shifts, moving over my ankle, up my bare leg, all the way to the sliver of thigh visible above my knee. He swallows and blinks, finding my eyes. "Do you want your gift now?"

  "Gift?" My mind is as hazy as misty morning fog.

  Erick rolls to his feet. "It's not much."

  I draw in a deep breath, glancing to the fire, expecting to find it raging with how flushed my body feels. But the flames are as even-tempered as they were before—I'm the one who's blazing. With a little magic, I draw a cool breeze in from the forest, trying to clear my head.

  "Here."

  I take the object from his hands, surprised. "A shell!"

  The spiral is as big as my palm, with a peachy hue aside from the iridescent opal vein circling round and round, disappearing into the center.

  "I wasn't sure what you'd like," he says while I run my finger over the curved edge, tracing the path. "Jewels seemed too, I don't know, ordinary, when you're anything but. And when I saw this, it reminded me of you. It's called a Sailor's Trap. According to legend, when a siren sings, the words sink all the way to the ocean floor, landing in the shape of this shell. If one washes ashore and a human finds it, we're never supposed to lift it to our ears. If we do, the magic will bewitch us, taking over our thoughts until we have no choice but to follow the path of the music all the way into the depths of the ocean to the spot where it first struck the sand. My mother used to tell me skeletons walked beneath the sea with these shells clasped in their bony fingers, still searching for their final resting place."

  I gasp and meet his eyes. "Have you listened?"

  Erick shakes his head. "It's been on my shelf for nearly ten years, and I haven't once raised it to my ear."

  "Not once? In ten years?" My eyes widen.

  "Not once, in ten years."

  "How?" I glance back at the shell. I've only held it for a minute, and I already ache to hear the song secreted within. "How did you stop yourself?"

  "In my world, magic isn't a game," he whispers. "Or maybe it is, and we're just not privy to the rules. We don't understand it. We don't know how to use it. We don't know how to fight it. We take it very seriously, because if we don't, it could easily destroy us."

  His answer surprises me. To me, magic is the most natural thing in the world, the closest I can come to touching Mother and Father, a divine gift. On his lips, it sounds scary, not sacred.

  "Are you afraid of magic?"

  "I'm not afraid of your magic."

  "So you trust me?"

  "Yes."

  "Then let's listen together."

  I hold the shell out. There's no magic hidden inside, no secret spell, or I would've felt it. Yet I still hold my breath when Erick meets my eyes and nods. I lean in, and so does he, until our cheeks are pressed together. Butterflies swarm across my chest—from the story and the anticipation, I tell myself, though deep down, I know the truth. It's his touch that sends me flying. My heart thuds as I lift the shell. He places his hand beneath mine, helping to hold it. I feel his pulse drum beneath his skin, as quick as mine. Together, we close the distance.

  No siren song entraps us.

  I feel bewitched just the same.

  "It sounds like the ocean," he whispers with a slight tremble. I wonder if it's because of the story, or if maybe it's because of me.

  "Like the waves," I add, listening to the gentle swish and sway of air as it flows in and out of the opening like a rolling surf. "It's beautiful."

  "Yes." His gaze burns into my cheek. "It is."

  I turn to mee
t his eyes. From this close, I can make out the glow of the fire deep in his pupils. "Why did this remind you of me?"

  He looks away as a crimson flush creeps up his neck, visible above the edge of his white collar. "No reason."

  But it's obvious there is. Does he think me the siren? Does he think I've put a spell on him? "I'd never use my magic to hurt you."

  "I know," he says quickly, turning to me with surprise. "That's not—" He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, as though embarrassed. "I thought it was obvious you don't need to use your magic to entrance me."

  "Oh." I straighten. It's my turn to blush and look away, trying to hide my smile. When my gaze lands on the stream cutting through the center of the cave, an idea sparks. It's risky, but that's never stopped me before, and Nymia is currently hiding in the woods, oblivious, so she won't be able to stop me either. Erick's shared a lot of his life with me and my spying eyes, whether he knows it or not. I want to share more of myself with him. "Can you swim?"

  "Are you trying to lead me to a watery grave?" he teases. "Because in that case, I might need to reconsider what I said."

  "No." I nudge him with my hip as I roll my eyes. "I want to show you something."

  "What?"

  "A surprise."

  He studies me, but I don't give him a chance to say no. Instead, I jump into the deep channel and toss a globe of faerie light into the air to light our way. Erick strips off his vest, tells Ru to stay put, and dives in after me. Using my magic as a guide, I lead him into the dark. If he's scared, he doesn't show it, matching me stroke for stroke. In some places, the ceiling dips so low we need to swim under it to find the next patch of air. In some areas, it's so high the drip of the stalactites echoes like a song. The water is so clear that with the glow of the faerie light we can see all the way to the floor, like a turquoise reflection of the space above. I'm exhausted by the time we reach the protection spell.

  "Stop," I tell him, voice loud as it reverberates. "Wait here."

  I don't tell him why.

  I'm not sure if humans know that the barrier exists, or if they've just learned over the years not to get too close to faerie lands. Animals can pass through with ease, whether it be a simple tree squirrel or a powerful unicorn. But humanoids are different. They can only pass if they have magic hidden beneath their skin, like shifters or centaurs. If a true human tries, the burn of the power will kill them—or so I've been told.