"Where's the other one?"
"You can't see it from this part of the world—no one can. Only one of the pair is ever visible at a time. It's how you know you've passed from the northern seas into the southern seas, or vice versa. According to our legends, a beautiful princess fell in love with a stable boy, but when her father discovered the affair, he banished the boy from the kingdom and forced his daughter to marry another. On the eve of her wedding, she sent a messenger dove out her window in search of the stable boy, to tell him her heart would always be his. At the same time, he tied a single rose to his horse's saddle and ordered the animal to return to the castle as a sign of his devotion. But they were doomed from the start. The king sent assassins to have the boy murdered. After they killed him, they found his horse and chased it deep into the woods. When dawn arrived with no word from her love, the princess threw herself from her tower rather than marry another. Their spirits rose to the sky, always in search of one another, but always just out of reach."
I recoil and pull my gaze from the sky to look at him. "That's a terrible story."
"I know." He laughs and shakes his head. "I think there's supposed to be a lesson in there somewhere about the evils of defying authority or something, but it always seemed unnecessarily sad to me." He bends down to look through the telescope, adjusting the angle a little. "Look here."
I take his spot, this time seeing a cluster of stars in the shape of a square with two lines extending from the bottom corners, and one line extending from the top left. "What's this one?"
"That's his horse, still loyally running south toward his love, but never quite reaching her. And if you're in the southern seas, there's a constellation that looks like a bird flying north, carrying a message no one will ever read."
"That's horrible!" I pop back up. "Aren't there any stars with happy stories?"
Erick smiles at my aghast expression. "Not many."
"Are humans so enamored by tragedy?"
"Maybe it’s just our nature to want things we can't have," he whispers as a shadow passes over his eyes. He shifts his attention to the ground.
I brush the outer edges of my fingers against his, watching the magic beneath my skin sparkle brighter at the contact. "I know a faerie or two who understand that sentiment as well."
He meets my gaze beneath hooded brows and wraps his hand around mine. When he looks at me like this, I don't know what to do. It's as though the heat of the sun is firing upon me, burning me up from the inside out, so hot I could melt to a puddle on the floor. My legs go weak and my mind goes blank. I forget to draw air into my lungs. Normally, he'll look away, but this time, he doesn't. He holds me captive as he lifts our entwined fingers and presses my hand against his heart, so I can feel the way it pounds inside his chest. Ru nudges his head against Erick, as though annoyed to be left out, and the spell breaks.
I snatch my hand back, flustered, and return my gaze to the sky. "What other stories do the stars tell? A happy one this time?"
"So demanding," he teases gently, voice a touch raspier than usual. The rough edge sends my insides swirling. "I'm not sure if this is a happy story, but it was my grandfather's favorite. The constellation is a little more difficult to see, so I'll have to point it out." Erick sinks to the grass and lies down on his back, staring up at me from below. "Come, sit."
When I slip into the spot by his side, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close so the lengths of our bodies touch. My pulse races, but I try not to show it as I rest my head on his chest, keeping my gaze glued to the sky. He holds his other arm out, pointing toward the stars. When he speaks, his lips are so close his breath tickles my skin.
"Do you see this stretch of stars here that sort of looks like a serpent?" he whispers, moving his fingers in an arc across the sky. I nod. "And this little cluster here, that sort of looks like a man? Those are his arms and legs, and that's his face."
"I'm not sure I like where this is going." All of Mother's creatures are beautiful, of course, though I do think she made a slight error when it comes to snakes.
"You'll like it, I promise," he murmurs, meeting my eyes for a moment before clearing his throat. I look to the stars—it's too overwhelming to have his face this close. "My grandfather liked to call this constellation the Sailor's Folly because, well, you'll see. Once there was a boy who lived in a cottage by the sea who dreamed of becoming the most revered naval captain in the world, adorned with riches and beloved by kings. He grew into a man who was single-minded and ruthless in pursuit of his quest. One day, a soldier rode into his village with a message from the king, who'd heard rumors of the sailor's skill. The king offered the hand of his daughter and a fleet of ships, if the sailor could bring back the carcass of the magical sea serpent who roamed the ocean deep. Though his family begged him to forget the request, the man couldn't. He set sail, and for months, he searched the waves in vain, until one day he saw scales within the blue, stretching as far as the eye could see. The great serpent leapt from the waters, arching as high as the mast before it landed on his deck in the form of a beautiful woman.
"Sailor, she said, I grow weary of this hunt, and I am tired of this world. I offer you two choices. If you leave me to die in peace, and let me return to foam, I promise you will know love and happiness for the rest of your days. If you remove my body from the sea, you will know fame, but no peace. The choice is yours.
"Then she died, transforming back into a beast as her body slipped into the sea. The man couldn't help himself. Everything he'd always dreamed of was in reach—a princess, royal ships, reverence. Surely those things would bring him happiness. Surely the princess would love him. Surely the people would cherish him. So he wrapped the serpent in a net and dragged her corpse across the ocean, bringing it to the king. When he got close to the shore, a crowd gathered. They watched as he pulled her enormous body from the surf, rolling her onto the sand. The second her tail left the water, they screamed. The man spun and raised his sword, but it was too late. His fate was sealed. The serpent took him in her jaws and threw him into the sky, and they became stars."
I wait to see if there's more to the story, but Erick is silent. "That was your grandfather's favorite story? It's not happy at all!"
"No, I guess not." He laughs softly and I turn to meet his gaze. "Maybe my grandfather did a better job of explaining it. He used to say it was his favorite because whenever he was stuck at sea, all he had to do was look to the stars to remember all the wealth waiting for him at home—his wife and his daughter, more valuable than any riches. He told me he used to pray to the serpent whenever he was in rough waters, asking her to help bring him home, and she always did. There was an old saying—what was it? Oh, yes. If a sailor's heart is strong and true, the sacred serpent will see him through."
He was right. I do like this story.
"Your grandfather sounds wise."
"Does he? I always thought he was a bit of an old fool," Erick teases, but I can tell he doesn't mean it.
"No, you didn't."
"No. I didn’t," he agrees as his voice shifts, deep with admiration and tinged with despair. "He was the smartest man I knew."
"You sound like you miss him."
"I do."
I wonder what it's like to miss someone in that way. Faeries don't know death, not like humans do. One day, will I miss Erick like that? When I speak of him, will it sound as though a part of my soul is missing? When I think of him, will I look as though I want to laugh and cry all at the same time? My chest aches at the thought.
"He's not gone, though," Erick whispers a moment later, almost like an afterthought.
"How do you mean?"
He sighs and closes his eyes, running his free hand over his face and through his hair before placing it beneath his head like a pillow. "My mother fell ill when I was a boy, so young I hardly remember her. She always smelled like the sea, as though her hair caught the wild winds coming in over the ocean and fused them with her soul. She had a beautiful v
oice, more beautiful than a siren's, people used to say, and sometimes when I close my eyes I can hear the lullaby she used to sing me to sleep. And her laugh, it always made me smile. I used to miss her so much. I mean, I still do, but when I was younger, I feared I wouldn't be able to go on without her. But my grandfather, he always told me she wasn't gone—that she lived on in our hearts and in our memories. The first time I woke up and couldn't quite see her face, I cried for a day. I was forgetting her. I thought I was killing her all over again. So my grandfather started telling me stories to help me remember her spirit. With each new tale, he said we were keeping her alive a little bit longer—that with stories, people can live forever."
"So when you share your grandfather's stories, you keep him alive a little while longer?"
Erick nods.
"Can you tell me a story about your mother? I'd like to help her soul live on too."
"Of course." He smiles even as his eyes glisten with tears. "You'll like this one, it's my favorite. My mother had an adventurous spirit. She yearned to see the world, to escape her small village, to explore. But in the human world, it's much harder for women to do these things than men, don't ask me why. So when she heard that the prince of the realm was searching for crew for his new fleet, she stole a set of my grandfather's old clothes, bundled her hair beneath a hat, and snuck out to enlist. The disguise lasted about twenty minutes. As soon as the prince saw her, he recognized her womanly form and ordered her off the ship. According to the rumors, my mother grabbed a rope and swung from the deck, losing her hat in the process. When she landed on the dock with her ebony hair swirling in the breeze, the prince fell in love. He spent the rest of the summer wooing her and showing her the kingdom."
"What happened next?" I ask, turning in his arms to rest my chin on his chest, no longer interested in the stars, only in him. "Does it end happily?"
"Alas, no." He blinks and the light in his eyes dims. "The prince was promised to another and when he returned home, he married his young bride. My mother was brokenhearted, but she never stopped loving him, nor he her. Over the years, he visited her as often as he could, which is how I was born."
I gasp, shocked. "The prince was your father?"
"One and the same."
"But if he loved your mother, why didn’t he marry her?"
"Because he didn't love her enough. He loved his status and his power more."
"Is that what he told you?"
Erick laughs softly, but it's dark and stormy, sounding more like thunder. "No. We don't speak of her. It's what I surmised. Actually, Aeri, you're the first person I've told that story to—the first person I've told any of this to."
"I'm honored."
"So am I." He takes a deep breath and releases a long, heavy sigh. Once it's out, he seems lighter. "What about your mother? She must be alive. Would she approve of me?"
"My mother?" I frown, wondering why the question makes me feel suddenly hollow. The world is my Mother, and the sky is my Father, and until now I never imagined any other way. "Faeries don't have mothers, not in the human way. We're born from a blossom and the priestesses take turns raising us and nurturing us. Our Mother lives in the sun, watching over us, bringing life to the world, gifting us with magic."
"That's…nice."
Is it?
For the first time, I'm not so sure.
I think of Mother, of her warm embrace, the tingle of her magic alive in my skin, how I always feel safe in her presence. I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything. But my Mother is responsible for the whole world. What would it be like to have a mother you didn't have to share? To have that devotion all to yourself? To feel so precious?
What would it feel like to be a mother?
To gift that sort of love to another?
"What about your father?" Erick murmurs.
I glance up to the never-ending realm overhead. "We believe he lives in the sky, watching over us from above, and that faerie souls live eternally as stars, waiting for their next life."
"Did you have a life before this?"
I look into his deep blue eyes, wanting to tell him I never truly felt alive until I found him, but I'm too afraid. "No, this is my first life."
"But you'll have more after?"
"I will, if the Father decides to grant them."
"Do you think—" He breaks off, furrowing his brows, then swallows slowly, as though forcing a rising tide back down.
"What?" I urge.
He runs his fingers up the side of my arm, watching the magic beneath my skin sparkle at his touch, a reflection of the stars overhead, as though somehow we've brought a little bit of that infinity down to earth. Then he cups my cheek and meets my gaze. "Do you think you'll remember me in all those lives?"
"Erick—"
"I'm not a fool," he continues, cutting me off as though he's worried what I might say. There's a pleading edge to his voice that pains me. "I know I'll grow old, just like my grandfather, while you'll stay young and beautiful forever. I know my life will only be a small part of your story. I just think, maybe, when the time comes for us to part, it might be nice to know that some piece of me will live on forever—the little piece alive inside your heart."
I inch up his chest, so our noses have hardly any space between them, and infuse my words with all the warmth his have stoked. "Erick, I promise, no matter how long I live, I will never, ever forget you."
His fingers slide through my hair to wrap around the back of my neck, and before I realize what's happening, we're kissing. Our mouths crash together, desperate in a way I've never felt before. I grip his cheeks, holding him close, trying to eliminate any space between us. He hugs me to his chest, fingers digging into my hip. Faeries are supposed to give their love to the world, but I want to give it all to him. I want to be selfish. I don't want to let go—of Erick, of this moment, of the way he makes me feel. My whole body tingles from his touch. Does he burn for me like I burn for him? As though at any moment I could turn to flame?
I don't find out.
Ru barks and Erick jerks back. There's panic in his eyes when he turns toward the sound. Ru howls again, loud enough to stir the dawn, and I know what he's trying to say.
Someone's here.
The rumble of deep voices rolls across the meadow, broken only by the bark of a dog somewhere out of sight. Erick jumps to his feet in an instant, staring into the trees. I scramble to my knees and stare through the wild grasses, trying to judge how far away the forest is, how long it will take me to disappear within its folds.
"Aeri, stay down."
"Who is it?" I whisper. "Do you know?"
"No," he answers back, studying the shadows, searching the moonlight for strangers. Then he looks back at me. "You have to go. Crawl into the trees and stay out of sight. I'll try to distract them. I'll pretend I'm here stargazing. Find your sister and go back to faerie lands."
I shake my head. "I don’t want to leave you alone."
"I'll be fine," Erick says and kneels. He grabs my cheeks to press a swift kiss to my lips, one that's over far too soon. I like that he didn't hesitate to touch me again. "Go, please. I'm human and a half-prince. No one in this kingdom would hurt me."
But they would hurt me.
We both know it.
Ru barks again and another howl answers, closer this time.
"Go, Aeri. Go!"
A hound bursts through the tree line and races across the meadow. I jolt to my feet, then run. Ru comes to my side, growling over his shoulder. When I look back, pearly teeth gleam in the moonlight. Ru snaps his jaw, as threatening as I've ever seen him, but the other hound doesn't slow. It’s not afraid. I'm close to the other side of the meadow, almost to the forest, almost clear—
Another hound emerges from the shadows, cutting off my path. I swerve to the left, but it's faster than me, running on four legs instead of two. Erick whistles behind me, trying to call them back, but it doesn’t work.
The humans will be here any moment.
&n
bsp; The dog nips at my heels. Sending my power into the ground, I shake the dirt to slow the beast down. It falls and rolls, releasing a cry, but it’s back up a moment later.
I can’t outrun them.
And if I use too much magic, the humans will know Erick wasn't alone.
My only choice is to hide.
Sending a furious wind behind my back to push the hounds away, I lunge into the trees, jumping for the closest perch, and clutch the bark. The wood ripples beneath my palms. Knots sprout like handholds as I scramble up the trunk of the pine, climbing toward the top. I thicken the foliage as I go, only stopping when the branches grow too thin to hold my weight. With my back to the clearing, I should be out of sight, but that's not my main concern. There's no way to hide my smell. And even as I huddle in the shadows, trying to cover my skin with my leafy clothes, the hounds gather below, barking toward me, unbothered by Ru's protective threats. If the humans come close, I won't be able to hide. Not for very long, anyway.
I try to call on Father's shadows, but the spell slides over me, slipping away, too difficult to grasp. Nymia was always better at disappearing. Why, oh why, did I tell her not to come? Tonight of all nights? My stupid, stubborn pride!
"Brother!" a boastful voice calls, one I recognize from the first time I saw Erick. It's the other boy, the one I didn't very much like the look of.
"Hakon, call off your hounds," Erick orders.
"Why? It seems they found something."
"They found me. And they're scaring Ru."
"Your sorry excuse for a scent hound could use the reminder."
"Reminder of what?" Erick's voice sounds tired.
"That he and his owner don't belong."
"I highly doubt either of us will forget that."
I can't help it—I need to see what’s going on. Keeping myself as hidden as I possibly can, I glance over my shoulder, arching the slightest bit around the side of the trunk, and stare through the leaves. Three boys stand with Erick, one I recognize and two I don't. The others haven't spoken, though their cruel smiles let me know whose side they're on. The dogs renew their barking and I straighten back up, nearly slipping from the branch. Using a little magic, I widen the rough wood beneath my bum, crafting a sturdier perch.
Parting Worlds - A Little Mermaid Retelling (Once Upon a Curse Book 4) Page 8