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

by Kaitlyn Davis

  "I'm sorry."

  Her brows push together, but before she has a chance to stop me, I plunge my fist into the portal and slip through.

  The world dissolves into rays of sparkling color, as though I'm diving through the center of a diamond somehow shining in the dark. They flash and swirl and swoop as I tumble through the abyss. Then I land, crashing into something soft with an oomph.

  "Ow!" a sleepy voice grumbles.

  My eyes fly open.

  Erick. I've crashed into Erick.

  Well, more specifically, his bed. The plush feather mattress cushioned my fall, but I still smacked him in the face with my closed fist. He rubs his nose, which has gone quite red, but doesn't open his eyes.

  "Ru, if this bed isn't big enough for the both of us, go find your own. Waking up to a paw in the gut is one thing, but a punch to the face in the middle of the night? Really?"

  On instinct, I open my mouth to speak, but my throat burns, as though my lungs are filled with fire instead of air. Pain spreads like a sinkhole across my chest, caving it in, so I can hardly breathe. It's the faerie oath, making sure I remember the terms of my agreement.

  How could I possibly forget?

  I'm not really in the mood to talk anyway.

  Instead, I cup his cheek with my free hand and brush my thumb across his skin before dipping my fingers back into his hair. Erick goes absolutely still beneath me.

  "If I open my eyes, and this is your tail, let it be known I've officially gone mad."

  A grin pulls at my lips as I lower my mouth to his for one gentle kiss. By the time I pull back, he's wide awake. Those sapphire irises sparkle like gemstones as they take me in, amazed and awed, as joyous as I've ever seen them, making me feel cherished in the way only he can. Then his lips are back on me and I can't think any longer. Erick wraps an arm around my waist, holding me flush against his chest while his other hand digs into my hair. I don't know what to do with my limbs. The fingers of my left hand still awkwardly clutch the blessing, so I run my right one down the side of his neck, over his chest, down his arm, and back up, as though laying claim. My leg naturally swings over his, entangling us in a way that makes him groan. I burn with the sound and pull him closer. He peppers kisses across my jaw and down my throat, so a sigh spills through my lips. He catches it, locking us back together. We grow lost in each other's touch, and the rest of the world fades away.

  At least, it did, before two paws land on my back and a scratchy tongue tickles my bare shoulder. I laugh against Erick's lips and roll to the side, reaching up to welcome the furry face buried against my neck. Ru doesn't stop licking my cheeks until I hold him away, giving him a little scratch behind the ears.

  "This dog, I swear," Erick mutters with a sigh. "I never should've let you move into the castle. You've lost all your manners. Though, to be fair, I'm not sure you had any to begin with."

  Ru barks out a protest.

  Erick stares at him, raising a brow.

  Ru whines softly, a sad, pathetic sound.

  Erick, with a roll of his eyes, gives in and the hound pounces on his chest, voraciously wagging his tail so it thumps against my leg. I sit up, leaning on my elbow to watch them, throat aching with all the words I want to say.

  "I know you missed Aeri, boy," Erick whispers. Over Ru's head, he meets my gaze, eyes heavy with the weight of these many weeks apart. "I missed her too."

  I missed you.

  The words are on the tip of my tongue, yet I can't speak them.

  I want to. I want to so badly.

  Instead, I swallow them away.

  Erick blinks and looks down to where my hand rests on the bed, then covers it with his own. His fingers wrap around mine, warm and comforting as they squeeze gently. "I did miss you, Aeri. More than I expected. More than you know."

  My brows draw together in frustration.

  He runs a finger up my forearm, over my elbow, and across my collarbone before resting it on the bottom of my jaw. I watch my skin respond to his touch, flaring gold, glittering with magic, leaving a trail behind. He lifts my chin until I meet his eyes.

  "Aeri?"

  I shake my head as a tear stings to life.

  He wipes it away. "What's wrong?"

  I didn't expect this to be so painful.

  Clearly, I was a fool.

  "You can tell me," he softly urges. "You can tell me anything."

  No, I can't.

  And therein lies the problem.

  With a sigh, I lift my hand and unfold my fingers, holding out the blessing so he can see. In the dark shadows of his room, the bead beams, creating a halo around my palm. The power swirls like liquid amber.

  "What is it?" Erick asks, switching his gaze between my eyes and the blessing. "Does it have something to do with the solstice? I saw the magic from my window, same as every year, the column of fire soaring into the sky."

  I nod, because it's all I can do.

  "Why won't you say anything?" His brows knot with concern. "Did they hurt you?"

  No. I shake my head. This was all my own doing. I don’t blame Priestess Sytrene for trying to discipline me. How can I? I knew the rules, and I chose to break them.

  I still do.

  "But you can't speak?" he asks slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You can't speak…to me."

  I swallow the lump in my throat away, but somehow he knows it's there. He takes my hand and clenches my fingers fiercely as he raises them to his lips, then holds them there for a long kiss. Pain flashes in his eyes like lightning in a storm, white hot then gone. "It's okay. We'll figure something out. We'll create our own language. We'll— We'll—"

  I press a finger to his mouth and hold up the blessing.

  His gaze drops to the bead, then lifts to me.

  I push my fingers toward him, signaling he should take it. Unsure of what he's doing, Erick plucks the blessing from my hold and drops it into his palm to stare at it. Ru lifts his nose closer to smell the magic pulsing inside and opens his jaw. The second his tongue rolls out, I pounce on the hound, holding him firmly beneath me. I did not come all this way to give Mother's blessing to a dog—even one as cute as Ru.

  I turn to glare at Erick and he promptly folds his fingers over the bead, keeping it safe, while he shrugs. "What am I supposed to do?"

  I point to my open mouth.

  He frowns and tilts his head to the side.

  I pretend to swallow, then rub my stomach, wincing at how ridiculous I feel. This not speaking thing is more difficult than I thought it'd be.

  "Am I supposed to eat it?" he asks, wary.

  I nod so vigorously my neck hurts.

  "Really?"

  I roll my eyes and point to my mouth again, sterner this time.

  "Okay. Here goes…"

  The moment he drops the blessing on his tongue, I grip his neck, digging my fingers into his skin as I press our foreheads together, connecting us as one mind. Then I think the words of the blessing, with more force than I've ever thought anything before. Priestesses can wield spells without saying them, so I know the mind has a power all its own, just not one I've tapped into. But Mother gave me this blessing for a reason. She led me to Erick for a reason. I need to find out what that reason is.

  Mither, lu da bhuinnich, bodh mo gid thirriong istuich ges da tholguol imich.

  Over and over I recite the words as I stare into Erick's open eyes. He swallows the blessing, drinking Mother's magic in. I pray harder. I think harder, as though I can will the words into his mind.

  Mother, with your blessing, I draw you in to cast you out.

  Mother, with your blessing, I draw you in to cast you out.

  Mother, with your blessing, I draw you in to cast you out.

  Magic prickles my bared arms, coalescing in the air around us. I urge it beneath his skin, fusing the spell in my thoughts and the blessing in his belly until they're one. Normally, these ancient words draw Mother's power from nature, gifting it to a faerie for a brief amount of time so she
can wield it as she wills. I've no idea how it might interact with human flesh, but I keep wishing for one thing and one alone—for Erick to be able to hear me without words.

  The centers of his pupils flash gold and he gasps, reeling back so I'm forced to let him go. Light flares from his pores, gone as quickly as it came.

  "Aeri, I—" He breaks off to breathe deeply, panting as though he's just been racing through the forest. His skin pales, then flushes, as he puts a hand to his heart and bows his head. "I feel different."

  I wrap my fingers around his wrist. Different how?

  "I'm not sure," he continues. "My pulse is racing. It feels like there's a caged animal trapped beneath my skin, begging for release. Like I might explode from keeping it contained. I feel…powerful, and yet, it's almost like the power isn't fully mine."

  I pull my lip between my teeth. I'm not sure if that's how he's supposed to feel, though I suppose if you've never felt Mother's magic, it could be overwhelming the first time.

  Can you hear me?

  "What? Yes, of course, I can—" He snaps his face up. "You didn't say anything."

  I shake my head. No.

  "I can hear you, but you didn’t say anything."

  I nod. Yes.

  His eyes go wide and he inhales sharply. "How is this possible?"

  I gave you magic.

  "You gave…" He trails off and holds his hands up, bending his fingers and staring at them as though they haven't been attached to him for his entire life. "I thought humans couldn't have magic."

  So did I. I shrug, hoping I haven't made a mistake by giving him something he doesn't want. I guess we were wrong.

  "What kind of magic do I have?"

  I don't know. I wished for Mother to give you a way to be able to hear me without my speaking. I guess you can read my mind.

  "Read your mind?" He shakes his head as though to clear the fog. "Why do I need to read your mind? Why is it that you can't speak to me?"

  I think of the night Priestess Sytrene held my face over the scrying water, flashing my most private memories across the surface for all the world to see. I wonder if this magic from Mother works the same. I wonder if I can show him.

  After clasping one of Erick's hands in both of mine, I hold his skin to my lips, bringing that night to the forefront of my thoughts—hiding with Nymia in the tree, jumping through the portal, being caught on the other side. His irises shimmer with a rainbow reflection, churning with magic, as he stares into a scene not of this world.

  "You made an oath in exchange for my life," he whispers, blinking my memories away, clearing his vision. I know the moment he returns to me because his whole face softens except for his eyes, which sharpen on mine.

  A faerie oath, I correct him. It would mean my life to break it. Not just this one, but all of them.

  "And yet you came."

  Of course I came. I bring our joined hands against my cheek, sinking into the backside of his palm. How could I not? Images of our time apart flash through my thoughts, reflected in his eyes. I was lost without you. I wasn't myself.

  "Neither was I." He shifts closer, hugging me to his chest as the mattress dips beneath us. We keep our hands clasped, a lifeline to each other, and I press my head to his heart, soothed by the steady beat, by his presence, by him. Erick presses a soft kiss to my brow, warming me from the inside out as heat trickles down my spine. "I felt like I was drowning. For weeks, I dreamt I was still stuck in that cave with the ceiling crumbling around me, crushing me slowly, suffocating me. I woke with sweats, my heart pounding out of my chest. I didn't know if you were alive. I didn't know what happened to you, if I'd ever see you again. I was trapped beneath the water. The rest of the world was blurry, shadowed at the corners and obscured. Waking to find those roses was like finally breaking through the surface to take my first breath of fresh air. It was like coming back to life."

  While he speaks, pictures flood my mind, of dark days and even darker nights. He went back to the cave. He dug through the rubble, calling my name and shifting stones until his fingers bled. He spent hours in the woods with Ru searching for my scent. He hardly ate. He barely slept. His brother taunted him. His sister asked him what was wrong but he couldn't say. His father told him to stop glowering. Eventually, he hid away in his rooms, blocking out the world. Then his thoughts fuzzed, turning gray and dour, until the night he saw my bright red rose, and suddenly, the world once again held color.

  Erick leans back, staring down at me. "How much time do we have?"

  Not enough. Never enough.

  I sigh and look out the window. I need to be back before anyone notices I'm gone. The celebrations will start to wane around dawn.

  "And after that?"

  I shake my head, because I don't even want to think the words. I'm not sure if I can do this again without Nymia's help. I don't know how I'll come back to see him.

  "How long will this magic in me last?"

  I don’t know. As long as Mother wills.

  "Then let's not waste it."

  At first, I think he means to kiss me again, so I arch my neck and lean up. I could spend all night kissing him and I still don't think I'd grow tired of it. I could spend all my lives kissing him, and I don't think it would ever be enough. But instead, he slips off the bed.

  Where are you going?

  "We," he says and tugs on my hand, pulling me to my feet.

  I fall into his chest as his arm wraps around my back, holding me to him. Erick kisses me long and slow, as though we have all the time in the world, as though these aren't our final hours. When my knees go weak, he leans back, meeting my eyes across the dark. His pupils sparkle, reflecting my glowing skin, but also shimmering with something I never thought I'd see in human eyes—a little spark of magic.

  "My heart is yours, Aeri, and I want my soul to be yours too. If we're to never speak again after this night, so be it. I'll share everything I can, while I can. Hopefully by dawn, we won't need our voices to be heard. Hopefully by dawn, a glance, a touch, or maybe just a kiss will be enough."

  Erick leads me across the room to a small chest in the corner. I marvel at his human quarters the entire way there. Everything is so heavy—the thick drapes by the windows, the smooth stone walls, the carved posts of his bed. Even stranger is the quiet, and the permeating stillness of it all. I'm used to the constant sway of branches overhead, the rustling of leaves, the buzzing of insects, the slow-moving clouds or the rushing river. I don't think I could live like this all the time, but for now, it sort of feels as if we're back in the cave, and I like it.

  The plush rug tickles the soles of my feet, softer even than the mossy bed I'm used to, but not soft enough for humans. Erick throws two pillows on the floor before we sit, then lifts the lid of his wooden chest. I run my fingers over the grain, tracing the lifelines while he retrieves a smaller box from inside.

  "I've told you about my curiosity room, but that's not my real collection. Sure, it's full of interesting things, most of which I've showed you, but this"—he puts the box on the ground and opens the lid—"this is my real collection, my prized possessions, though I'm sure most people would see them as sentimental drivel."

  I'm not most people, I think, meeting his eyes.

  The edge of his lip lifts. "No, you're not."

  Erick removes a bundle of fabric and carefully unravels it to reveal a small wooden object, round at the top with a narrow handle, covered in faded paints depicting the shore. When he shakes it, something inside swishes, almost like the soothing sound of the waves.

  "It was my baby rattle," he explains, holding it out for me to take. "My mother painted it to resemble the view out her window and she collected the shells hidden inside. My grandfather helped her carve it. And this was my blanket. It still smells like the sea."

  I lift the soft fabric to my nose and breathe deeply, catching the hint of salt still stuck to the threads as though sewn in. While my eyes are closed, with the ocean air in my lungs, Erick takes my hand,
flooding my mind with his memories. The darkness shifts to soft sunlight. The room is out of focus and fuzzy, but a warm voice reaches my ear, singing softly, a loving tune that mixes with the rolling waves outside. When I look up, dark hair spills like a curtain over obscured features, face silhouetted by the light streaming through the window. It's his mother, I'm sure. He can’t quite see her anymore, but I can tell her identity by the warmth blossoming across my chest, laced with a pang of hurt. This is how he remembers her. It's all he has left of her.

  I want to give something back to him.

  So I send my earliest memory down the connection, the first time I felt the sun. Like his, it's more a feeling than an image. I remember being surrounded in impenetrable darkness, warm and cocooned and safe, yet waiting, yearning for something I didn't yet understand—life. Then the leaves of my flowery womb unfurled to reveal light and I took my first breath, drawing the Mother in as her magic washed over me. For the briefest moment, I felt safe and loved, before a stranger's arms came and ripped me away. Then the world went fuzzy for a while as I was passed back and forth, no faces or names I remember, only a feeling of aimlessness, until I was brought to the sacred meadow to begin my training.

  I blink, studying Erick as he studies me.

  I guess in a way we're both still grasping for the mothers we remember in our dreams.

  "This is my grandfather's pipe," he tells me, returning to the box and pulling out another item. With our hands still connected, an image flashes through my thoughts, of an older man sitting in a rocking chair by a warm fire, blowing smoke that hangs heavy in the air, obscuring his kind smile. His face is much clearer, laced with wrinkles. His nose hooks as though long ago broken, and bright blue eyes the color of the sea watch me, so familiar. Boisterous laughter rings in my ears, a deep and calming rumble.

  "Tell me a story," a young Erick whispers through my thoughts.