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

by Kaitlyn Davis

  The whole forest holds its breath.

  At first, I think maybe I was right. Humans can't say the words. On human lips, they hold no power. But the ancient language has a mind of its own.

  All at once, the world answers.

  Streaks of gold and silver fall from the sky and sink beneath his skin, lighting him from the inside out, a glow that blinds my eyes.

  He repeats the spell.

  More power floods his body.

  Hakon says the words, then the queen, then Erick's sister, and all the other men around us, until I can’t think from the chant of faerie words on human lips ringing in my ears. Magic seeps from the earth, from the trees, from the air, disappearing into their human flesh. I meet Erick's shocked eyes through the blaze of power flaring all around us, and my heart sinks.

  I don't need to read his mind to hear his thoughts.

  They're the same as mine.

  What have we done?

  What, in the name of the Mother, and the Father, and all the magical souls I was created to protect, have we done?

  "Enough," the king shouts, and immediately they all stop. It's too fast, too quick. I hear the power in his words, an undeniable simmer of magic. The king grins, lips curved like the waning moon the night before the sky goes dark, then holds his left hand up, staring at his fingers in awe. He turns toward Erick. "What is your magic?"

  "I can read minds," he answers immediately. As soon as the words leave his lips, he shakes his head and frowns, whipping his head toward his father.

  "Son, what is your magic?"

  Hakon licks his lips and stalks over to Ru, then removes the dog's muzzle. I expect the hound to bark, to lick Erick's face, to run to me, to race away. Instead, he's perfectly still, staring at his new master. Hakon moves his fingers ever so slightly, and Ru snarls, baring his teeth and snapping his jaws with an aggression I know his heart doesn’t feel.

  "Father," Hakon murmurs, a delighted glee in his eyes. "I can control beasts."

  "Daughter?"

  She straightens her shoulders, holding her palm up. The rings on her fingers slip off, then hover in the air, circling so the gemstones catch the light. In one swift move, she throws her arm to the side. The jewels fall to the ground and the knife in Hakon's hand soars across the clearing to land in her waiting palm. She flips it over with a laugh. "I can control metal."

  "Wife?"

  She saunters slowly toward her husband, staring intently into his eyes and sashaying her hips. His face glazes over as she leans close, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. A cold sensation washes over me, as though I've been dipped in a pool of ice. When it fades, her features come through sharper, as though the world is a blur and she's the only thing that's clear. She's beautiful—maybe the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I wonder why I didn't notice when I first saw her. I almost take a step forward, yearning to be nearer to her. My heart grows colder, until all I feel is an incredible loyalty to the queen standing before me.

  "Enough." The king's voice slices through the haze and as quickly as it came, the sensation fades. My mind clears of magic. He reaches up to grip his wife's throat. I doubt it’s the first time they've found themselves in this position, but it’s probably the first time when she's been able to fight back.

  The queen smiles. "I can control hearts."

  It's their deepest, darkest desires, I realize, glancing around the clearing. I wished for Erick to be able to speak to me without words, and the magic complied. But these humans wished for other things. I'm not sure if they did it consciously, or if the spell pulled the desires straight from the farthest corners of their hearts, or if maybe, on human lips, the ancient words somehow twisted into something cruel. The king yearns for power, and now his every command must be obeyed. Hakon spent his life surrounded by beasts, and now he's their true master. I don't know Erick's sister, but the way she held that knife, I'm sure she's watched human men swing swords and craved such freedom. And the queen, who's known all her life that her husband loved another, who's lived with the proof of that right beneath her very nose, longs to make him loyal to her.

  "No one can use their magic until I say. Erick, stay here with your hound and await our return. Don't utter a word and don't even think about trying to flee." The king turns to me. "Faerie, take us to the barrier between our lands."

  No.

  The word is there on my lips, but I can't say it. There's a force within his command I don't know how to disobey. Inside, I scream. Inside, I pound my fists and kick my legs and fight with everything I have. Still, I take a step forward, then another, and another, unable to keep my body from listening. I lead them through the woods, my heart sinking with each step, until I'm sure it's been discarded on the ground and trampled beneath uncaring human feet. I don't stop until I'm close enough to the barrier to see the subtle rainbow glisten in the air, whispering of magic.

  The king holds out his hand, stopping short of touching the translucent wall, then curls his fingers into a fist.

  "You," he commands and spins on his heels, pointing to one of the soldiers. I wonder if he knows the man's name, or if he believes people are no more than objects he can now control. "Walk through the barrier."

  The man's eyes go wide.

  His entire body trembles as he takes a step forward, then another, walking at an even pace. I hold my breath. Humans aren’t supposed to cross. The power should kill them. But I don't know if the priestesses were thinking about humans with magic when they established the parameters of the spell. His foot passes through the barrier, and…

  Nothing.

  He keeps moving in the same steady glide, until five steps later, he's through. The aura around me shifts as all the humans collectively release a breath, filling the forest, my forest, with the sound of elated relief. And something else—anticipation.

  What have I done?

  The words lodge in my throat, then flash through my thoughts, over and over, like waves bashing the shore, until I feel beaten down.

  What have I done?

  What have I done?

  I snap and charge the king. I have no magic. I'm half his size. I don't care. I can't think about anything but stopping him. I must.

  He glances over his shoulder with an amused expression. "Stop."

  I skid to a halt.

  "Kneel."

  I drop to my knees.

  "Tell me where they hide."

  His magic feels like an arm reaching down my throat to rip the answer from my chest, like claws digging into my soul. "In a clearing near the river where the eternal fire burns."

  "Will they be asleep?"

  "Yes." Nymia's face flashes through my thoughts, peaceful in slumber with her cheek resting on her folded hands. She'll be at the outskirts of the meadow where I left her, vulnerable and exposed. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye, slipping down my cheek. "Most of them will be asleep."

  "Good." He turns to another soldier. "You, take her back and lock her in the dungeons. Don't speak about what happened to anyone and whatever you do, don't use your magic where others can see." Hands pull me to my feet and drag me back, but the king hardly notices. He's staring through the barrier with a hungry look in his eyes. "The rest of you, remain quiet and come with me."

  The last thing I see before a bag slips over my head and the world goes dark is a human army walking into faerie lands. Arms come around my waist and toss me over a bony shoulder. The human carries me away.

  Fueled by desperation, I scream the ancient word for help, trying to alert the priestesses even though I know it would mean never seeing Erick again. Power stirs in my chest, but nothing happens. I can't reach it, and without the connection to my magic, the spell won't complete. Still, I shout it again and again, hoping for a magic firefly to emerge from my lips and race toward home, toward my sister—saving her the way she saved me.

  It never does.

  I cry and scream and kick until my voice grows hoarse, but it's no use. A rope slides around my ankles, matc
hing the one around my wrists, and I'm wrestled away. I wriggle my hips, jerk my legs, and twist my spine trying to get free. The human tires of it and throws me to the ground. Then he grabs the rope at my ankles and drags me through the woods. Sticks cut into my exposed arms. Rocks dig into my back. My hair gets caught in roots and brambles, yanking free of my scalp. I keep fighting. Even as I'm thrown over the back of what must be a horse, even as he races toward the castle, even as I'm tossed onto a cold stone floor, I keep fighting with Nymia's face bright in my thoughts and fear a living beast inside my heart. The man tears the bag from my head, slices my binds, then leaves, slamming the bars of an iron door behind him. A single candle burns in the corner, illuminating wet stones. I sit up and drop my head against the wall as a dark laugh spills from my lips.

  It looks as though I'm in a cave.

  I know I'm not. He said something about a dungeon. I'm not entirely sure what that is, though I can tell from the moisture that I'm underground. Behind these stones, I sense dirt and roots and water seeping through the cracks. Still, the irony isn’t lost on me.

  Erick and I should've stayed in our cave.

  We should've remained hidden within those walls.

  I think of his story with the sailor who was tossed into the sky. Were we the same? Did we reach too far? Did we want too much? I thought our hearts were pure and true. But maybe love was too much to hope for in this world. Maybe love between a faerie and a human was too much to ask. Is my sister now paying the price for my sins?

  I lean over the stones, staring into the glistening sheen of water streaked across the floor. I will it to puddle and pool. I will her face to rise to the surface. I will a portal.

  My magic doesn't listen.

  Nymia.

  Her name looms in the air I breathe, turning my lungs to fire.

  Nymia.

  Did the king find her there asleep in our home, unsuspecting and defenseless? Did he cut her with a sword? Did he order her to silence? Is she afraid? Is she alive? Is she with the Father now?

  I'm not sure how long I sit there, staring into darkness with silent tears, wondering if my whole world is gone, before a sound draws me back. I look up to find the candle is half-gone and a little girl stands at the edge of its halo, no more than ten years old, dressed in dull brown rags with a pink carnation tucked behind her ear. Who is she? Where did she come from? More importantly, does she have a key?

  "Hello," I whisper and crawl toward the iron bars dividing us. "That's a pretty flower."

  She shyly palms the blossom in her hair.

  "Do you like flowers?"

  She nods, folding her lips to hide her smile.

  "I like flowers too. Do you want to see me grow one?"

  A gleam enters her eyes, full of wonder.

  I lift my wrist, shaking the metal band. "I just need my magic back, and then I can show you."

  She frowns and leans away, glancing over her shoulder.

  "No, wait!" I reach through the iron, trying to stop her. The subtle pound of footsteps bounces off the walls, echoing through the silence. Someone was following her. Someone's coming. "Who—"

  "You found her!" Erick's loving voice washes over me and for the first time in hours, I feel a little spark of hope flare deep in my chest. He races into the candlelight, grabs the little girl's head, and kisses the top of it fiercely. "Thank you."

  She smiles up at him adoringly and he presses his finger to her nose before turning toward me. I grip the bars, pushing my face against the iron as though I could squeeze through. Swollen skin seals one of his eyes shut, but the other finds me, and then he's there, hands gripping my cheeks, mouth on mine. I hardly notice as the little girl runs away.

  "I'm sorry, Aeri," he says between kisses. "I'm so sorry. I didn’t see them. I didn’t know. I—"

  Stop, I whisper into his mind. It’s not your fault. And we're together now. We'll figure something out. We'll undo it. We'll fix it.

  "We will. I swear we will."

  Do you know how to take this thing off? I look to my wrist.

  "I have an idea."

  He pulls a thin needle from his pocket and sits, then props my hand on his lap and turns so the candlelight illuminates the golden band. After he sticks the point into the lock, he jiggles the needle. I can't fight the sense that he has no idea what he's doing.

  Who was that girl? I ask while he works, trying to distract myself.

  "Sylvi, the caretaker's daughter. She loves me."

  Who wouldn't?

  His lips curve, hinting at a smile. "And she's smart. She knows everything that goes on in this castle. I knew she'd know where they took you."

  How'd you get away? You father ordered you not to run.

  "It wore off," he says hastily, tone going gruff at the mention of the king. "After a while, the command wore off and I ran. I came as fast as I could, but—"

  The lock clicks, falling open, and I yank the bracelet from my wrist. Magic swarms beneath my skin, filling up all the empty spaces, making me feel whole again. Without glancing to Erick, I turn over on my knees and call the water from the stones, forming a pool.

  “Nachtinn eoscu ma mhoin." As I murmur the words for the scrying spell, I picture my sister's face. Water, reveal my wish. Reveal Nymia. Show her to me.

  Nothing happens.

  Colors swirl on the surface, glimmering with magic, but no image forms.

  “Nachtinn eoscu ma mhoin," I repeat, more forceful this time.

  The scene remains the same, blurry and unclear. For the first time, I realize the true pain I put Nymia through after I gave Erick the blessing, because right now, my heart feels ripped from my chest. I can hardly breathe.

  It's just because the humans with magic are there, I tell myself. Nymia is fine. I bet she woke up. I bet she saw them. I bet she got help. The priestesses will stop the humans. Everyone will be fine.

  Why then do I tremble?

  "We have to go." Erick takes my hand through the bars, but I tear free, staring at the water, willing my sister to appear.

  "No. No!"

  "Aeri," he whispers, with such a mix of sympathy and dread I can't help but look up. "We have to go, now, while we still can. You don’t understand. The whole world's gone insane."

  It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, I finally swallow my panic. What do you mean?

  "The soldier who brought you back must've told someone what happened. He must've done something. I don't know what, but it's madness outside."

  Madness? I ask, scrambling to my feet as a weight drops in my stomach.

  "Everyone knows the spell. Everyone's using it."

  Everyone? My thought falls away before the word is complete, as hollow as I feel. How many people is everyone?

  "The whole town," Erick mutters as he tries to jiggle the needle around the lock holding me on this side of the bars. Frustration leaks through his tone. "People are scrambling to steal magic. They're fighting each other. They're testing their new powers. They're—" He breaks off with a growl as he tugs on the lock in vain.

  I call on Mother, letting her magic flood my veins. As my palm turns red from heat, I reach through the bars, grip the lock, and melt the metal away to nothing. The door swings open and Erick stares at me with his mouth agape.

  "Well, if I’d known you could do that…"

  I shrug and step past him, grabbing his hand on the way. Show me what's going on. I need to see. I need to make it right.

  "Aeri—"

  Just show me, I cut in, ignoring the warning in his tone. I did this. I shared faerie secrets. I need to see what my actions have wrought. I need to know so I can fix it.

  Erick tightens his grip and leads me through the dark corridors of the dungeon. My thighs burn as we climb. The permeating silence is broken by distant cries and calls, a frenzied sort of air, filled with crashes and booms and crazed laughter. Still though, I'm unprepared for what waits when we finally stumble through a door to the outside.

 
The sky is falling.

  At least it looks that way. Glittering streaks of silver and gold and every other color rain down, sinking into the town barely visible on the other side of the castle wall. Magic leaks from the earth, from the air. When I breathe, my lungs ache from the absence of the Mother. When I open my mouth, a stale taste sours on my tongue. I drop to my knees and dig my hands into the soil, but the magic is already gone. The earth feels dead beneath my fingertips, present but not alive, no longer filled with the potent might of the Mother.

  Her world is dying.

  I've killed it.

  "Hey!" a deep voice shouts.

  I spin to find a man running toward us, his eyes filled with craving as they focus on my glowing skin. He opens his lips to speak.

  Erick charges.

  The man pulls a sword. I wonder if he doesn’t have magic yet, or if his first instinct is to grab his weapon, forgetting he probably now has a more powerful one beneath his skin.

  So do I.

  With my palms against the ground, I send a shock through the earth. The grass fissures and splits. The man stumbles, falling forward, and I call forth vines. They wrap around his frame, holding him firmly. Then Erick is there. He puts his hands to the man's head, gripping his skin.

  "Forget us," Erick demands, something steely in his voice, something I've never heard. "Forget everything."

  The man's eyes go blank and he freezes, as though his mind has been wiped completely clean. A bit of drool dribbles from the side of his mouth before slipping down his chin, and Erick gasps, jumping away. He stares at his fingers, then at the man now limp against the grass, then back at his hands, which have started to tremble.

  I put my palm to his shoulder, and he flinches.

  "What have I done?"

  You didn’t mean it.

  "What if I did?"

  You were only trying to protect me.

  A glowing halo catches my attention as it rises higher over the edge of the stone wall separating the castle grounds from the rest of the town—flames starting to lick the night. The rooftops are burning. The town is burning. My ears ache from the screams flooding the sky, a mix of terror and glee. He was right. It's madness. The people have gone crazy. If magic has made even my gentle prince a victim of his own power, there's nothing we can do here, not on our own.