Rival Magic

by Deva Fagan

There was no such thing as an easy swim, not for me. I bit my lip, wondering just how ridiculous Moppe would think I was if I told her the truth.

  But I didn’t have the chance. As I opened my mouth, Moppe gave a screech of alarm, pointing to the heights above. “Another statue!”

  The marble warrior posed on the overlook, its blank gaze fixed on us. As I watched, it began striding down the trail, heading straight for us.

  We scrambled down onto the beach, a narrow band of pebbles and sand clasped between sharp stones. Looking out across the frothing waves, I could just make out the peak of Mermaid Rock. A few gulls swooped above, screeching as if in warning.

  “Come on!” Moppe cried as she raced to the waves, her orange-and-green hair streaming behind her. “We need to get to the island!”

  I followed her to the very edge of the water, where cold froth streamed through my sandals, chilling my toes. “I can’t!”

  She turned, incredulous. “What?”

  I crossed my arms, hugging myself. “I don’t know how.”

  “You live on an island and you don’t know how to swim?”

  Heat flooded my face. “Mother didn’t think it was a good use of my time. My brother was going to teach me, but… Never mind. The point is, I can’t swim.” I glanced back up the road. The statue was still coming.

  There was only one thing I could do. “Get to the island,” I told her. “Find the crown. I’ll try to lead it away.”

  “What?” Moppe exploded. “That’s ridiculous! You expect me to just leave you here? What if it petrifies you, like it did that councillor fellow?”

  “We can’t let it get the crown first. And there’s no way for me to get to the island.”

  Moppe flung her hands up in dismay. “You’re a wizard, Antonia! There must be a way.”

  A great wave crashed down just then, sending a shower of salty water over us both. “There isn’t time!” I jabbed a finger at the statue thundering down the trail toward the cove. “You have to go!”

  “What about transfigure? Turn yourself into a fish?”

  “That wouldn’t work. It needs to be something warm-blooded, something close to the same size. Like a dolphin.”

  “Go on, then! That thing could be here any moment.”

  “But dolphins can’t speak magespeak. I couldn’t turn myself back. Remember what happened to your uncle?”

  “Then change me. I’ll swim you across and you can change me back. You can hold my fin.” She marched several paces out into the water, stumbling as another powerful wave smashed down. “Hurry!”

  I ran the words through my mind, praying they were correct. “Moppe. Transfigure. Dolphin.”

  Nothing happened.

  “It’s not working!” A storm of sharp shards pierced my chest. Why couldn’t I manage this? It wasn’t fair!

  “We’re running out of time!” Moppe cried. The statue had reached the sand now.

  I looked to Moppe, ready to order her to leave me, but her lips were already parting to call out three words. “Antonia. Transfigure. Dolphin.”

  What? No! That wasn’t the plan! I opened my mouth to protest, but the magic was already prickling over me.

  13

  I PLUNGED INTO THE WAVES, my body shifting, melting, legs merging, neck shortening, nose sliding back to somewhere behind my head. The water that had been painfully cold was suddenly warm and soft and welcoming.

  I flexed my tail experimentally and found myself zooming forward into deeper water. The ocean beat against my skin, a drumbeat calling me to dance. I thrummed out an answering shiver of sound that pulsed through the water.

  “Antonia!”

  Someone was calling in a strange, frail voice. A two-legged creature on the shore waved her arms at me. Moppe, I told myself. The word echoed oddly in my mind, as if it didn’t belong.

  I had to focus. Even with something clever, like a dolphin, it was easy to forget yourself, to let natural instincts take over. I had to remember who I was and what I was doing.

  Moppe fought her way out into the waves. But the statue was nearly upon her, stone hands thrust out, promising the cold eternity of petrification.

  I angled my long gray body back toward the shore, swimming as close as I could. Warm hands clutched my dorsal fin. “Go!” she cried. “Go!”

  Moppe shrieked as I beat my tail, sending us slicing out into the open water. The booming footsteps of the statue receded to a dim tread. I didn’t look back.

  The water billowed around me, soft as feather down. My heart matched a deeper pulse of wave and tide. I was part of something grand and glorious, dizzy with delight. I would have swum away into the sun-streaked horizon if it weren’t for the thump of a fist against my head, a tinny voice shouting, “Left. Left! Or you can see how fast you swim after I enlarge your nose.”

  I gave a plaintive whistle. There was the most delicious-looking school of herring drifting past only a few hundred yards out.

  “No,” the voice snapped. “Mermaid Rock! We need to get to Mermaid Rock. Remember the crown? Master Betrys? Magic?”

  Magic. A shiver went through me. I couldn’t forget magic. I was a girl, not a dolphin. I didn’t even like fish!

  Suddenly all I wanted was my voice back. My legs, my tongue. My magic.

  “Yes, there,” Moppe said. She tapped the left side of my head, and I veered toward a curve of paleness along the base of some rocks.

  I swam up to the shallows until the sand brushed my belly and Moppe could scramble free. She staggered onto the beach and collapsed, digging her fingers into the sand.

  A wave shoved me against the shore, then tugged me back. I beat my tail desperately, flinging myself up onto the sand. I was done with the sea.

  Turn me back! I shouted, but it only came out as more squeaks and clicks. Moppe blinked, then shook her head, a look of dawning horror coming over her face.

  “I don’t know how to turn you back,” she said, in a hollow, helpless voice. “I didn’t think—I just—Oh, rot me. What do I do?”

  She must be joking. I let off another string of squeaks. She covered her ears, squinting her eyes shut. “What do I do?” she said again. “I don’t know how to turn you back!”

  But she did! She had all the words she needed. It was so obvious!

  I rolled back into the shallows, slapping my tail. A wave sluiced over Moppe. She sputtered. “That doesn’t help!”

  No, it didn’t. The fire of frustration burning in my chest only flamed more fiercely. I hadn’t asked her to transfigure me. She’d just done it. Because she could. Because she was so naturally talented and powerful.

  Well, so much for natural talent. I’d have to find help somewhere else.

  I twisted my sleek body, preparing to swim away, but Moppe’s desperate cry echoed through the water after me. “Wait! Antonia! Please! Don’t leave me!”

  The painful desperation pierced my fury. I twisted around to stare at her. She was panicking. That was the problem. Her hands fluttered, twisting together. Her cheeks burned red.

  I had a choice. I could leave, give up on Moppe and our quest. Or I could believe in her.

  I swam back slowly. She waded out to meet me, her face crumpled with misery as she knelt in the shallows. “I’m sorry. I guess I really am just a useless scullery maid.”

  I gave a sharp whistle of disapproval, then butted my snout against her shoulder. Catching a mouthful of her orange-and-green hair, I gave a tug.

  “Ow!” She scowled at me. “You don’t need to bite me,” she said. “I know I messed up.”

  I tugged again, as softly as I could manage. Moppe’s expression shifted to sudden realization. “Wait. Are you trying to tell me something? A clue? About my hair?”

  I clicked excitedly.

  “Oh!” Hope shifted to excitement. “Reverse it! Is it really that easy?”

  Nothing about this was easy. But my stream of whistles seemed to give her confidence. She rubbed one hand across her eyes, then stood, shoulders pushing back in det
ermination. She dragged in a soggy breath, then said the words in reverse. “Dolphin. Transfigure. Antonia.”

  My body melted, re-forming and splitting into legs and arms and soft skin. Nose between the eyes, no more odd echoing sense of space around me. I let out a gusty sigh.

  Moppe flung her arms around me. “It worked!”

  “Of course it worked,” I said, returning the hug awkwardly, still not quite used to having arms instead of flippers. I was back in my tunic and trousers, but they were sopping wet. There was sand in my shoes, in my ears, and a half-dozen other places sand had no right to be.

  Moppe blinked, rocking back on her heels slightly. I shimmied and twisted, trying to shake the grit from my underthings. Finally I lifted my gaze, meeting her eyes. “You’re not useless,” I said. “You’re brave and smart and you’re a wizard, Moppe. You saved me.”

  Her cheeks were still flushed. She gave a little shrug. “What are friends for?”

  Friends. That made my own cheeks go hot. Was that what we were now? Not rivals, not merely allies, but friends?

  A week ago I would have laughed even to consider it. But now…

  “Moppe,” I said, “Master Betrys won’t care that you have trouble reading. All she cares about is magic, and you’ve got that in spades.”

  Moppe had started to cringe away at my words, but now she halted, frozen, staring at me.

  “Remember that letter I was reading when you caught me in the study? She said you were a prodigy. She said you had unlimited potential.” I forced the words out. Even though I knew it was right, I couldn’t help thinking of the rest of that letter. The part about me, and my “middling” abilities.

  Moppe shook her head. “But I can’t do it. I can’t remember the words like you, and I can’t look them up, either. It doesn’t matter how hard I try. The letters just keep jumping around.”

  She turned away, hunching her shoulders. A lump fell into my throat.

  “It’s not your fault,” I croaked. “It’s just the way you are.”

  “You mean broken? Useless?”

  “Stop calling yourself that! My brother had a terrible time reading too. It was something about his eyes, or the way his mind worked. Mama brought a special tutor over from the mainland to help him. Maybe we can find one for you, too.”

  “Oh, well, why didn’t I think of that?” She gave a bitter half laugh.

  “You can learn. I swear, Master Betrys won’t care.”

  “Right, because she expelled us. Or did you forget that?”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “She also said to prove her wrong, and we will. Once we find the crown, she’ll take us both back. She’ll pay for a dozen special tutors. Whatever it takes. You’ve got more magic in your little pinky than I have in my whole body. I wish—” My voice went froggy. “If I could trade my magic for yours, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  She was very quiet. The waves rolled and rolled, matching my pounding heartbeat. “You really think so?” she asked. “I could be a wizard? Go off to that fancy school across the ocean? Come back with everyone calling me Master Cler, like I’m some la-di-da?” She gave me a smile, but it faded quickly. “I don’t think they’d want some island girl mucking around their fine halls and putting her fingers all over their fancy grimoires.”

  “I’m an island girl too. Remember?” I said. “And if anyone says anything about that, they’ll answer to me. I bet none of them have memorized the entire History of Curses and Imprecations. There’s a really good one for bubbling warts.”

  Her lips twitched into a grin. “Sounds like… fun.”

  My old dream seemed to suddenly split open, like a rosebud bursting into sudden bloom. Every treasured image I’d clutched tight to comfort me through sorrow and loneliness shifted, expanding. Now, when I pictured myself tucked into some cozy turret, poring over grimoires, Moppe was there too, our heads bent together over the tome. I saw us racing along golden halls, evading the stern regard of some grouchy Master.

  But even as my dreams unfolded, Moppe’s smile fell away. She dropped her gaze to the sand. “No point thinking about that now,” she said, with an odd twist in her voice. “Better focus on finding the crown. It’s going to get dark soon.”

  The sun had already slid low, dimming the sky to dusky pink and gold. Moppe began scrambling along the rocks, heading for the seaward side of Mermaid Rock. “The tales say the mermaids live in what’s left of the old palace,” she said. “This way.”

  “The old palace?” I jogged after her, past clods of seaweed and over knots of pale driftwood. “I thought the Black Drake destroyed it after Goros and his daughters died.”

  “The palace used to cover all of Mermaid Rock. There was a causeway that ran out from the shore. The drake broke the causeway and tore down most of the palace, but there’s still some left.”

  She pointed to a line of broken columns poking up from the rocks ahead, like jagged teeth catching the fading sunset. I began to notice other bits of rubble that had clearly been worked by human hands. Carved arches. Drifts of colored glass that might once have been mosaics. Even a graceful winged torso, poised for flight but armless and headless.

  “How do you know all this?” I asked.

  We clambered up onto the ruin of an old marble walkway, spanning a crystal-blue inlet. “My father used to take me here when I was little.” She pointed out into the deeper waters. “He’s the one who showed me this.”

  The water was a clear blue-green. Peering into the depths, I could make out pale shapes. Arches, pillars, porticoes. Statues arrayed in a line like warriors on parade. And everywhere I looked, the same motif of fringed vegetation, bundles of what looked suspiciously like turnips.

  “It’s all been sunk!” I said, leaning out to get a better look. Below, a bewitching glimmer of color beckoned. Part of an ancient mosaicked floor showed what looked like a crowned figure standing before a giant, black-coiled serpent.

  I crossed the bridge, then scrambled down into the shallow water to get a better look. The mosaic crown itself was pale and glossy—not silver or gold, but mother-of-pearl. Fitting, I supposed, for an island nation like Medasia.

  I shivered. Even in this tiled mosaic, the drake was terrifying. The black rings of his massive body throttled a warship. Another of the vessels floated broken, with small figures cast helpless upon the waves. All the more reason to find the crown quickly, so that no one could release such a danger ever again.

  “So where should we look for the merfolk?” I asked. “Moppe?” I added when she failed to answer. I turned.

  A female creature, her torso shimmering with scales, bobbed in the water behind me. Pearlescent armor covered her shoulders and chest. Her long hair fanned out like strands of seaweed. Dark eyes as remote and merciless as a shark’s watched me with cool precision as she swept the tip of a long spear to rest lightly against my collar.

  More of the creatures drifted beyond. Two of them flanked Moppe. One held a glittering crescent dagger to her throat.

  There was no need to find the merfolk. They had found us.

  14

  THE DOOR ON OUR CAGE slammed shut with the ominous clatter of rattling bones. Which was probably because it was, in fact, built from the skeleton of some massive sea creature. A vaulted arch of enormous ribs rose over us, bound with braided strips of seaweed. More bones had been woven along the sides, forming a sort of overturned basket, trapping us in one of the pools along the shore of Mermaid Rock. Cool water lapped at my ankles as I regarded our half dozen captors in the dimming light.

  “We don’t mean any harm,” I said.

  Moppe was less tactful. “Let us out of here, you sea-witches! Or you’ll regret it!”

  I elbowed her. “We’re here to negotiate, not to insult them.”

  “How is it negotiating when we’re in a cage and they’re about to carve us into fish food?” Moppe gestured to the array of spears still pointed in our general direction. “Why don’t I just magic them all?”

  “Ho
w? I don’t know the word for mermaid, and we don’t know their proper names,” I told her. “Besides, if we make them angry, they’re hardly going to tell us where the crown is.”

  I turned back to the nearest of the mermaids, who sat propped on the rocks beside us. “Please, we’re not your enemies.”

  The mermaid girl tilted her head thoughtfully. She was beautiful—they all were, though it was an eerie beauty. Her scaly torso and tail were a deep blue-green, flecked with silver. Small fins edged her elbows, and her skin was a shimmery turquoise. Like the others, she wore armor that looked as if it had been carved from the inside of a giant mussel shell, pearly with hidden rainbows. Her bottomless black shark-eyes watched me, unblinking. Then her blue-tinged lips curved, revealing a mouthful of pointed teeth.

  It was terrifying. My mind filled instantly with images of needle-sharp teeth ripping into flesh. All the stories I’d heard of mermaids involved foolish sailors being lured to their doom.

  A mermaid with green-tinged skin advanced upon our cage. The others drew back in deference to her. Her coppery hair flowed like molten caramel. A large tooth hung from a golden chain around her neck, sharp as despair. And on her brow, gleaming pale, sat a delicate mother-of-pearl crown.

  It looked exactly like the one I’d seen in the mosaic. I gasped, nudging Moppe. “She has the crown!” I whispered.

  “Why have you trespassed in my domain, drylanders?” she demanded. “I am Thalassa, Queen of the Sea. Answer, or be judged by the waves.”

  I tried to remember anything Mother had told me about politics and diplomacy. Unfortunately, the only thing I could recall was that I shouldn’t wear yellow to a Zolomeni oath-binding ceremony.

  “Our most sincere apologies,” I said. “We didn’t mean to trespass in your glorious domain. But we come on a great quest, and you are our only hope of fulfilling it to save our people.”

  “Why should we care about drylanders?” Thalassa demanded. “You are a pestilence to our waters. Our mothers have told us the stories. Before the great ships came, the cove was rich with spiny-shells. Now you come and sweep them away before they are even full-grown.”