Authors: Jim C. Hines

The Mermaid's Madness (41 page)

BOOK: The Mermaid's Madness

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Snow stumbled toward the door, her knife still clutched in one hand. She had cut herself when she fell, a long gash along her side. Any deeper, and she could have killed herself.

Her neck warmed as she pulled power from her choker. Sparks danced from the mirror in her knife. Talia started to speak, then swore and jumped aside as the doors creaked.

Snow could feel the air spirits outside. Morveren had left two to bar the doors. With every step, Snow pushed harder. The pressure in her head increased as well, but she kept going. Slowly, the doors bowed outward.

She threw her knife.

The blade wedged into the gap between the doors and quivered in place. Moments later, the doors exploded.

Boards and splinters burst inward, but the same magic Snow had used to push open the doors also deflected the debris. The air spirits vanished.

Talia jumped through the doorway, knives drawn. “She’s gone.”

Snow could hear shouts from outside. Cries of confusion and fear, but Morveren had already escaped.

“Snow!” Danielle and the others had gathered around the altar. “Beatrice is moving.”

Snow turned away from the door. There was nothing she could do to catch Morveren now. If the air spirits were strong enough to carry her, she could go anywhere.

Beatrice lay shivering. Her lips were cracked and bleeding, but she was smiling. Her smile grew when she saw Snow. “I heard you. Even within that dark place, I could hear you calling me.”

The words triggered a coughing fit. King Theodore helped her to sit up, holding her until she recovered. Beatrice leaned her head against his chest. “Is everyone all right?”

“Our son tried to smash through a bench with his leg,” Theodore said. “He might have broken the bone.”

“Where’s Isaac?” Snow turned around until she spotted him slumped against the wall beneath the cross. He had been the first target of Morveren’s attack. Tymalous was already running toward him, moving with surprising speed for a man of his age.

“He’s alive,” said Tymalous. “God willing, I might even be able to keep him that way.”

In the far corner, Snow spotted Lannadae huddled and crying. “I’m sorry,” Lannadae said. “I didn’t know.”

Snow glanced at the ruined doorway. A crowd had begun to gather outside the church. “Morveren means to finish her spell, to make Lirea the first of a new breed of undine.”

“Lirea is still queen,” Danielle said. “The entire tribe will attack Morveren the instant they see her.”

“Not all of them,” Lannadae whispered.

Snow crouched beside her. “What do you mean?”

“There have always been those who believe as Morveren does, that we are soulless. Some among the tribe want what Lirea has. To move about on land as well as the sea. They envied her that ability, even as they feared and pitied her madness.” Lannadae shuddered, finally looking up to make eye contact. Salt-streaked tears crusted her cheeks. “Morveren has followers among the tribe. Undine who will obey her in return for that gift. She . . . she offered to do the same to me if I helped her to escape.”

The church had fallen silent. All those at the altar were listening to Lannadae’s confession.

“When was this?” asked Danielle.

“Last night. Normally the queen’s control is absolute, and Lirea’s scent is stronger than any I’ve known. But Morveren is royal as well. She told me she had protected some of her followers from Lirea’s control.” Lannadae tugged on her scales. “I told her I wouldn’t let her do to me what she had done to Lirea. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“She probably made sure you wouldn’t tell,” Snow guessed. When she squinted, she could see faint traces of Morveren’s spell lingering like cobwebs over Lannadae. Lannadae was timid by nature. It wouldn’t have taken much to ensure her silence.

“She intends to unite the undine,” whispered Lannadae. “All those who refuse to follow Lirea will be killed.”

“How?” asked Danielle.

“The gold Lirea collects.” Lannadae bowed her head.

“She means to hire human alchemists to poison their waters.”

Snow rose. “I know where she’s going.” Morveren’s escape would have weakened her. How much power waited for Morveren back in her wrecked ship? All of those soul jars, still safe after so many years. “We’ll need to take the
Phillipa
back out to sea.”

“That’s dangerous,” said Armand. His face shone with sweat as Danielle helped him toward the altar. “The undine have already increased their attacks. They struck Lyskar again last night.”

“Lirea will kill Morveren if she can,” Lannadae said.

“She can’t,” Snow said. “Lirea might have fought Morveren’s control before, but now that Morveren has Gustan—”

“Because of you.” Varisto held his ax with both hands, seemingly lost as he stared into the engravings on the head. “Because your people allowed her to live. Because you brought her here and placed my brother’s soul within her reach. And because once again I failed to save him.”

“Prince Varisto?” Beatrice’s voice was stronger, though she still held Theodore for support.

“Your Majesty.” Varisto bowed his head. “Forgive me, but your people should have destroyed that cursed knife.”

“And let me die?” Bea closed her eyes. “Perhaps.”

“Damn your stubbornness. Gustan’s as well.” Varisto stomped away. As he left the church, Snow heard him say, “Had he listened to me, he might still be alive.”

“We know where Morveren’s going,” Snow said. “If we sail straight for Hilad, we can intercept her before she reaches Lirea. The
Phillipa
—”

“You saw how fast she flew,” said Talia. “Even the
Phillipa
isn’t fast enough to catch her air spirits.”

“She is,” Beatrice said, pressing closer to Theodore. “For me, she will move like the wind itself.”

Lirea rested her head against the legs of Gustan’s statue, listening with all of her being. The voices had gone quiet, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Every movement ached, as though her body were that of an old woman. Yet this was the closest she had come to peace since before Gustan. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be alone with her own thoughts.

Her solitude had been short-lived. Already she could feel Morveren trying to pry into her mind, like a turtle burrowing in the sand to lay her eggs. In the past, Morveren’s touch would have roused the voices to such fury her head felt as though it would burst from their screams. Now Lirea simply slid into the water, savoring each moment until she lost herself once again.

The songs of her tribe drifted through the windows of the tower. Their numbers were greater than anyone could remember. One tribe had already been poisoned. The survivors had come seeking revenge, only to fall under Lirea’s sway.

Morveren had done something to her scent. From the moment Lirea murdered Gustan, she had grown in power, twisting the loyalty of her tribe from her father to herself. She could unite all undine into a single tribe. Gold coins glittered in the water, tribute from the first nation to give in to her demands. Soon the entire ocean would be hers.

There was no exhilaration. Lirea wanted only to rest, to sleep.

But with sleep came dreams. The screech of her knife as the blade scraped bone. The hot blood splashing her hands. The shock on his face. Shock that twisted into hatred.

She sank lower, allowing the water to wash away the tears. One by one they abandoned her. Nilliar hadn’t returned. Lannadae and Morveren still conspired against her.

She dragged a hand through coins and sand, stirring tiny vortexes of dirt in the water. Her father had been the first to turn against her. To punish her for giving herself to one of
them
. He had shouted and struck her, threatening to strip away her title and banish her forever. She could still hear his words, telling her she had shamed her family yet again. Her mother had sat by and said nothing. She wouldn’t dare contradict the emperor.

Wait . . . Lirea’s mother had died long before she met Gustan. These were Gustan’s memories, not hers. His father, beating him and shouting at him for rutting with mermaids. With
animals
.

Lirea’s song was little more than a moan as she pressed herself to the floor and tried to separate her thoughts from the rest. Gustan had never loved her. He had used her, and like a fool, Lirea had let him.

He still used her. Gustan and Morveren both, their desires twining with hers, twisting her mind, propelling her actions. Her moans grew louder as she clung to that sense of self, even as the whispers filled her mind, pulling her down . . .

Outside, a merman called for her, his song urgent enough to jolt Lirea from her thoughts. The water swallowed her screams as fins flattened into flesh. A shock of cold ran through her body. She pulled herself onto the stairs, the hard edges digging into her body.

The transformation took longer than usual, leaving her exhausted. She gasped with pain as she strained to draw the last scales into her skin. When she finally pushed herself to her hands and knees, she felt as though she crawled upon knives. Eventually, she made her way to the upper window, where she could look out at her people.

Undine filled the moat. The first rush of spawning had passed, and most of her people were ready to go forth. Pride filled her chest at the sight of her army.

A merman warrior sang from the front of the crowd, quieting the others as he requested his queen’s permission to speak. Lirea didn’t recognize him. The entire tribe was alien to her. They had grown too much, and she no longer knew her people by sight or by smell.

“What have you found?” she asked.

“Captain Varisto’s ship,” the merman said. “He docks at Lorindar. With Morveren and Lannadae.”

Not Varisto too. She gripped the window with one hand as anger flooded her body. How could he turn against her? The miserable traitor. All that time he had pretended to aid her, hunting for a way to break Morveren’s power when in truth he wanted only to help Morveren destroy her.

The air was strangely still. Lirea rested her head against the side of the window. They would all come for her, to devour what was left of her until nothing remained but a distant whisper in the summer wind.

So be it. “Summon the warriors and prepare them for battle.”

CHAPTER 15

T
HE ONLY SOUND WAS THE RATTLING of the carriage wheels over the paving stones. The tension made Danielle want to leap out the window.

Armand was furious about his injury, hardly saying a word since they left the palace. Tymalous had splinted his leg after tending to Father Isaac, but there was no way he would be able to get about on a ship. Even on land, Armand had to use a crutch to hobble about. He sat on the far side of the carriage, his leg propped up on the opposite bench.

Rarely was Armand’s resemblance to the king more pronounced than when they were both upset. King Theodore hadn’t spoken either. He sat with Beatrice, their hands twined together. He hadn’t tried to argue Beatrice out of her decision, but it was clear to everyone how badly he wanted to. He fumed in silence, and Danielle found herself leaning to the side to try to avoid his scowl.

Even Snow was uncharacteristically somber. At first, Danielle thought it was guilt. Snow blamed herself for Morveren’s escape and for Father Isaac’s injuries. But she kept staring at Talia, then turning away. If Danielle didn’t know better, she would have thought Snow looked embarrassed.

The queen alone appeared relaxed, resting with her hand twined with Theodore’s. She had taken both tea and wine but said she had no appetite for solid food yet. Danielle hadn’t been able to talk to her since she awoke in the church. Selfish as it was, she desperately wanted time alone with the queen, time to tell Beatrice what she had done, to ask if she had made the right choice about Morveren.

Armand finally broke the silence. “You’re not well, Mother. You shouldn’t even be out of bed, let alone—”

“I’m still your mother, not to mention your queen,” Beatrice interrupted with a trace of her old spark. “That means I outrank you twice.”

BOOK: The Mermaid's Madness

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