The Mermaid's Madness

DANIELLE HAD WORKED HARD over the past year to break the habits of her former life. For months after she moved into the palace, she had cringed at every stain or smear of mud, instinctively bracing herself against her stepmother’s wrath. Eventually, Armand had pulled her aside to explain that her anxiety was catching, and the palace staff were working throughout the night attempting to meet what they saw as their new princess’ demands for perfection.

Danielle had learned to stifle her reactions after that day. Of course, there were parts of the palace no servant knew about. Danielle still cleaned the secret chambers beneath the palace from time to time. If she waited for Snow or Talia to do it, the job would require a shovel. She also dusted the passage that led from those chambers up to her room.

Today, she barely noticed the occasional cobweb stretched across the dark shaft. When she reached the top rung, she pressed her ear gently against a wooden panel hidden in the wall. Danielle dreaded the day she scaled these bronze rungs, only to interrupt one of the chambermaids relieving herself.

A quick tug of a metal lever opened the panel. Danielle stepped into the privy and listened again before exiting into her bedchamber.

The window had blown open, and rainwater puddled the black and white tile floor. From the size of the puddles, the window couldn’t have been open for long. Danielle started toward the window to close the shutters, but Talia caught her arm from behind.

“You know better.” Talia dropped to her knees, checking beneath the bed before moving to the window. She peeked outside, then reached out to pull the shutters closed. She latched the windowpanes back into place, muffling the sound of the wind. “Leaving the windows open is like sending out a royal invitation to any assassin who cares to eliminate the prince or princess of Lorindar.”

“The last time someone tried to kill me, she used the door,” Danielle said. “Besides, I shut those windows myself. The wind must have blown them open.”

The rain sounded like pebbles bouncing off the shutters. She could hear the water rushing through the copper gutters outside.

“What do you mean?” asked Talia. “I can’t remember the last time a week passed without a thunderstorm. You need gills to live in this country.”

Danielle stared at the puddles, fighting the urge to fetch a mop or rags. “Is it some sort of magical attack?”

“I don’t think so. Even if I’m wrong, the palace should be protected.” Snow wiped her hand on her skirt. “If the storms continue, we could have an interesting time on the Phillipa.”

Danielle grimaced. “I’ll need an extra strong batch of that tea before we leave.” She walked toward the wardrobe, hoping to grab some dry clothes. “Where is Armand?”

So much for getting dry. Or dinner, for that matter. She hadn’t had much of an appetite earlier in the day, but after hiking back up the seagate path, not to mention the climb from below the palace, her stomach was making its displeasure known to all within earshot.

Danielle tried not to think about how easily Snow had located her husband. Snow had planted small mirrors throughout the palace. Wall-mounted sconces were mirror-backed, giving her eyes in nearly every room and hallway. Other mirrors had been hidden in the mouths of gargoyles along the rooftops or fitted into mosaics in the ceilings.

Snow always assured her she would never violate anyone’s privacy without good cause.“Besides,” she had added the first time Danielle asked, “I can’t see anything interesting through that silly canopy on your bed anyway.”

Danielle grabbed a cloak and pulled it tight around her body. Like so much of her wardrobe, the cloak had a few too many frills for her taste. Gold thread and lace only covered half of the material, making it one of the less extravagant outfits.

The lamplighters had just begun to make their way through the hallways, touching flame to the oil lamps mounted in the walls. The flames flickered in the drafty air, and several lamps threatened to die completely.

By the time Danielle and her companions reached the north wall, the sky had begun to fade to black. Both Armand and the king stood in the rain, along with several guards and a man wearing the burgundy vest and gold seabird pin marking him as admiral of Lorindar’s navy. Behind them stood a second sailor. His face was swollen and bruised, and he shifted about as though he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Ambassador Trittibar of Fairytown was here as well, human-sized as he usually was when in Lorindar. Wisps of white hair plastered his face where they had escaped from the long braid draped over his shoulder. As always, he dressed in such a way as to make Danielle suspect the fairy folk perceived color very differently from humans. A green shirt clashed with his purple jacket, and Danielle couldn’t even imagine where he had found trousers in that particular shade of rusty orange.

A white falcon named Karina perched on his shoulder. Splotches of red mottled the bird’s chest. Trittibar scratched the falcon’s neck, and she responded by raising her crest like a tiny crown.

“Karina confirms it, Your Majesty,” Trittibar was saying. “The storms are strongest along the shore but die quickly the farther you travel from the palace.”

“Demons fly in those clouds,” said the admiral. Hays, Danielle remembered. She had seen him about the palace on occasion. Hays licked his lips, eyes searching the skies. “I’ve spent forty years of my life on these waters, and I’ve never seen a storm arise so suddenly. The Reginald was barely out of the harbor when the winds hit. Cracked her mainmast before she could take in her sheets.”

“We were less than an hour out of Lorindar when we saw the storm building,” said the sailor. “We stopped to lash supports to the mainmast. That’s when the undine attacked.”

Armand raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask how Danielle had known. He beckoned her closer, putting an arm around her shoulders when she joined him. The gesture seemed to be as much for his comfort as hers.

“I don’t think so, Your Highness,” said James. “I was working to bring in the bowsprit when the wind tossed me overboard. The merfolk dragged me away almost before I hit the surface. They left me on the outer seawall. They promised safe passage if we paid proper tribute to their queen.”

“Lirea asked for gold,” Armand said. “The undine have never used money before. They barter with other tribes for what they need.”

“The undine aren’t known for this kind of magic.” The king waved a hand toward the clouds. “Could Lirea have allied herself with the fairy folk? The gold could be payment for their aid.”

“Anything is possible, Your Majesty,” said Trittibar, but he sounded dubious. “But I believe I would recognize the magic of my people. It would be a serious violation of Malindar’s Treaty, and few of our kind would risk the wrath of our lord and lady. No, this is something else.”

“You believe it’s coincidence that this storm assaults the palace the day we bring my mother home?” Armand asked. He spun away, moving so fast the water sprayed from his arms.

A page hurried onto the wall, his jacket held over his head against the rain. The king waved for him to approach.

“We’ve received a note from Lord Montgomery. He sends his sympathies to you and the prince and asks how you intend to protect Eastpointe from the undine. He requests twelve warships be diverted to escort trade ships to and from his docks.” The page bowed and took a step back.

King Theodore simply shook his head. “Word spreads quickly. By this time tomorrow, I imagine half the lords will be demanding similar protection.” He dismissed the page, then rested his arms on the crenellations of the outer wall. “Who do you think Montgomery’s spies are, to alert him of the undine threat so quickly?”

“He is,” Theodore acknowledged. “Just as I’m within my rights to call on Montgomery’s resources in a time of war. If he’s not careful, I’ll send him and his ships out to sea to hunt Lirea.”

“Until this storm eases, what help does he expect us to give?” Hays asked. “The weather would cost us a quarter of our ships before we even left the docks. We’ve already had one cargo ship run aground.”

“Order the hurricane bells rung,” Theodore said. “Any incoming ships should be diverted away from Whiteshore. Send them to Griffon’s Vale.”

Armand shook his head. “We know they’ve attacked near Whiteshore. Let me take our ships out to search for Lirea. Warships sailing together will be better able to defend themselves, and they should lure the undine away from our civilians. If we could take prisoners, we might be able to find where Lirea is hiding.”

Danielle’s throat tightened. He meant to draw the undine away by making himself a more obvious target. She looked at James, his eyes still haunted by the undine attack on his ship.

“Would you prefer we huddle along our shores, waiting for the undine to attack at their leisure? We know where the Branwyn was attacked. Once this storm recedes, we can begin our search there.”

“We’ve learned of someone who might be able to help the queen. I’m told the Phillipa is a fast ship. Would she survive these winds?”

“The mermaid who created Lirea’s knife.” Danielle hesitated to say more in front of so many people. “If we can find her, she might be able to help us undo—”

“You promised me you would be careful,” Armand said, pulling her aside. “Even if the winds don’t capsize you, Lirea and her undine are lurking out there. What makes you think they won’t come after the Phillipa? It’s too dangerous for you to—”

Danielle didn’t answer. “Lirea may come here in search of her sister. We should make sure the docks are well watched.”

“For all the good it will do in these storms,” Hays said. “A man can barely see his own—” He glanced at Danielle. “His own hand.”

Snow stepped forward to stand beside Talia. “The spells on Lirea’s knife are strong. If we can find the mermaid who created it, she might also have the skill to find its wielder.”

“Because somehow this is less dangerous if you go instead of me?” Danielle demanded. She folded her arms. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll stay here where it’s safe if you promise to do the same.”

“It’s my duty as prince—” Armand began. His shoulders drooped slightly, and he gave her a rueful smile. “You’re about to turn that argument back at me, aren’t you? Don’t expect me to be happy about this, Princess.”

“No more than I am.” She gave him a quick kiss, trying to ease the moment. “You think I wouldn’t rather be here with you and Jakob? It tears my heart to leave him with Nicolette again so soon. Sometimes I think he knows her better than his own mother.” She swallowed hard, refusing to lose her composure in front of so many people, but Armand saw. He reached for her, and she rested against him. “But if I stay here where it’s safe, and Beatrice . . . I have to, Armand. We both know a mermaid is more likely to listen to a princess than a prince.”

He bit his lip, but he nodded. “I’ve spent most of my life at sea. I won’t let the merfolk take that away from me.”

The king had been quiet, listening to their argument. Now he nodded to James. “Your experiences could be helpful if the undine attack again. If you’re sure, you may accompany the princess on the Phillipa.”

“An escort is precisely what will mark us as a target to Lirea and her warriors,” Snow said. “Even with the hurricane bells, you’ll still have individual ships seeking to escape the storms. Fishermen need to eat, and the cargo ships lose money every day they delay. Most will obey the warnings, but a few will not. The Phillipa will be just another ship sneaking away to try her luck against the storm . . . unless you draw attention to her.”

Armand stared. “Perhaps I’ve fallen prey to some spell, but I could have sworn your friend just finished arguing against sending additional ships.”

Danielle had only taken a few steps down the tower stairs when she heard the door open again behind her. “Armand?”

It wasn’t her husband, but the king himself. Theodore pulled the door shut behind him. “I won’t keep you. But if you could spare a moment?”

Talia took Snow by the elbow.“We’ll grab something for you from the kitchen and meet you in your chambers.”

Danielle almost called them back.While she had grown close to the queen over the past year, she hadn’t spent much time with King Theodore. He might be her father-in-law, but she still saw him first as ruler of Lorindar.

“No. Not at you, at any rate. Mostly he’s scared.” The king leaned against the wall, showing the fatigue he had struggled to hide before. “He’s already angry that he couldn’t protect his mother, and he hates the idea of you putting yourself in danger. I can’t really blame him for that.”

“I know. Armand knows too.” He sat down and patted the step for Danielle to join him. “Beatrice and I had been married less than a year when I realized she was sneaking away from the palace. I was furious. I tried to follow her once, believing—” He bowed his head. “Well, what any man might suspect.”

“At that time, I was working to settle an inheritance dispute between twin brothers, both of whom believed they should rule South Haven. Their father’s body was still warm, and already they were at each others’ throats.” He shook his head. “After holding court for two days with these spoiled brats, I was ready to throw them both from the cliffs. I’m afraid I took my frustrations out on Beatrice that night, shouting at her and accusing her of various infidelities.”

“Nobody had ever turned her back on me before. I stood there for quite a while. Long enough to realize I might have made a mistake. I was too proud to follow her, though. Eventually I retired to bed.

“A noise woke me later that night. I sat up, thinking she had finally returned. Instead, a man swathed in black stood over my bed. He held a knife in one hand, and a mask hid all but his eyes. He took a single step, then flopped onto my legs, a single arrow protruding from his back.

“Beatrice stood in the doorway. She lowered her bow and stepped inside to apologize for interrupting my sleep. There had been a second assassin, and stopping him had taken longer than she expected.”

“Stunned,” said the king. “Charles, one of the twins, had planned well. He hoped to frame his brother for my death, earning South Haven for his own and moving himself one step closer to the throne. I never suspected—” He turned to look in the direction of the chapel, and his voice softened. “I didn’t, but Beatrice did. Things were far easier between us after that night.”

Danielle tried to smile. “I did help rescue Armand from my stepsisters. Does that count, or do I need to stop actual assassins?”

That earned another chuckle. “He’s prince of Lorindar. He’s not used to feeling powerless.” He climbed to his feet. “There are things Beatrice has done which I don’t know about. Things I can’t know. I have no doubt she’s saved my life more than once. Perhaps the kingdom as well. But it was never without danger.”

He looked at the wall, as if he were trying to peer through the stone to the chapel where Beatrice lay. “She chose that risk. I hope you don’t feel forced to make that same choice or to accept those same risks.”

The king’s face was hard to read. Hope and fear and sadness all battled behind his furrowed brow and shadowed eyes. “The Phillipa will be ready to depart at sunrise.”

Danielle spent a fitful night, between the rain pounding against the palace and the warning peal of the hurricane bells. The sky was still dark when Talia knocked on the door. It had to be Talia. Anyone else would have hesitated to awaken the prince and princess so early.

Armand rolled over, watching her through the silk curtains. “I talked to my father last night after you went to bed. He’s arranged to have a small chest of gold brought to the Phillipa. If the undine do attack, you might be able to buy your freedom. Let Captain Hephyra do the talking, and don’t let them find out who you are.”

“We had.” He sat up and pushed a curtain aside, then kissed the back of her neck. “However, that decision was made before you insisted on sailing out alone.” He kissed her again, moving to the side of the neck, then to her ear. His beard tickled the skin along her cheekbone.

Danielle closed her eyes as her blood pounded harder. She placed a hand on his thigh. “You’ll try anything to keep me safe, won’t you?”

She laughed and turned to kiss him. His plan might have worked well indeed, if Talia hadn’t chosen that moment to knock again. With a groan, Danielle pulled away and picked up her sword belt. “And what will you be doing today, Prince Armand? Unless your plans have changed, it was my understanding that you meant to lead your warships out to hunt for undine, to deliberately lure them into attacking.”

He lay back, still watching her. “I’ve also ordered extra nets sent to the Phillipa. They should be strong enough to use against the undine.”

“We received word late last night that the undine sank a Lyskaran frigate in their own harbor early yesterday evening.” Armand rubbed his face with both hands, as though he thought he could scrub the fatigue away. “Once again, they left only a single survivor to relay their demand for gold.”

“I dreamed it was your ship.” He watched as she tugged her hair back into a loose braid. “I watched them pull you down . . .”

“My mother’s actions are the reason she’s laid out in the chapel, a breath away from death.” He climbed out of bed. “Tell your friends I expect them to bring you back to me.”

“Tell your crew the same from me,” Danielle said. She hugged him once, running her fingers through his sleep-tousled hair before pulling away. “Tell them it’s a royal command from their princess.”

She found Talia dressed and ready. She wore only a handful of visible weapons, most notably a curved dagger on her hip and several shorter throwing knives on the opposite side. Danielle had no doubt a small armory was tucked about her person.Talia glanced at Danielle’s outfit and grunted.“I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.”

They stopped at the nursery so Danielle could kiss Jakob good-bye. Jakob hardly stirred at all as she lifted him from the crib. A small puddle of drool on his pillow showed that at least one member of the royal family had managed a good night’s sleep. Danielle dried his cheek as she cradled him to her chest.

“I know.” Holding her son, a part of her wanted to send Talia and Snow along without her. They had served Queen Bea for years before Danielle came along. The words were at her throat, but she forced them down. She kissed Jakob again, then gently laid him back into the crib. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Danielle smiled at that, though she knew there was truth in Talia’s words. How many had Lirea already killed? The idea of Jakob growing up without his mother, as Danielle had done . . . She bowed her head and followed Talia from the nursery.

Outside, the storm showed no sign of letting up, and they were both soaked by the time they reached their carriage. The cold water washed away her fatigue but left her even more depressed about leaving Jakob and Armand. “Where’s Snow?”

“How are we going to get her onto the Phillipa without anyone seeing?” Danielle asked. “She can’t exactly scale the ladder with the rest of us.”

“Snow will be bringing her in on the ship’s dinghy, along with various supplies. Including your special request.” Talia wrinkled her nose. “Better her than me.”

Danielle dug her fingers into the embroidered cushions as the carriage rocked in the wind. The road was wide, but a strong enough wind might still upend the carriage, even with the extra weight of the trunks packed in the back.

“Worse.” Talia leaned back in her seat. “I think we’re going to spend the rest of the day listening to her make ‘dinghy’ jokes.”

The Phillipa was loaded up and anchored near the mouth of the harbor. Snow and Lannadae waited at the dock to row Danielle and Talia out to the ship. The dinghy was already crowded, with three barrels packed into the back and a tarp strapped over Snow’s trunk against the rain. Lannadae hid beneath the tarp as well, curled into a smaller space than Danielle would have thought possible.

By the time Danielle and Talia settled into the boat, it sat so low in the water Danielle feared it might capsize. Danielle tried to adjust her sword to keep the cross guard from jabbing her in the side. She didn’t know how Talia carried so many weapons on her person without bruising herself every time she moved.

Talia squeezed onto the bench beside Snow, taking one of the oars. They rowed together, pulling the boat toward the Phillipa.

The Phillipa was smaller than the Glass Slipper. She was a two-masted ship of unusual design, with a narrower beam than most of the ships Danielle had seen. Her hull was unpainted, the wood oiled to a rich brown. Even in the cloudy morning light, the furled sails gleamed as though they were woven from silver threads. A carved swan was mounted at the bow, her long head extending beneath the bowsprit.

“She was a gift from the fairy queen.” Snow pointed to the mainmast. “The spars are freestanding, which means she has a broader range of motion. The sheets are much lighter than canvas but just as strong. The rigging was woven from—”

“She’s fast and she’s strong,” Talia snapped. “We get that. Now would you mind paying attention to what you’re doing before you completely turn us around?”

Danielle pressed gently on her shoulder to keep her down. “You will. We’re almost there. Stay down until we reach the far side of the ship.”

“We’ll secure the lines to the boat before we board,” Snow said. “Lannadae, you’ll be alone when they raise it from the water. Too much weight makes it harder to hoist their dinghy.” She smirked. “Stay out of sight until we get you. Captain Hephyra knows you’re coming, but I’m not sure how the rest of the crew will feel.”

“I understand.” Lannadae’s breathing was faster than normal, and her scales were puffed outward. A sign of fear, Danielle guessed. This was the first time Lannadae had been out of her cave since the past fall.

Snow grinned. “If anyone will take a mermaid on board, it’s Hephyra.” With that odd proclamation, Snow stood up in the boat and waved to the crew.

Once Snow and Talia had finished knotting the ropes to the front and back of the dinghy, one of the crew lowered a rope ladder. Danielle followed the others onto Queen Beatrice’s personal sailing ship.

The Phillipa was a madhouse. Rain splashed against the deck as the crew rushed to secure the last of the supplies. She spotted James helping to haul several barrels up from another boat and waved. James returned the greeting. He appeared nervous, his bruised face grim as he turned back to his duties.

“Princess Whiteshore?”The speaker was a tall woman perched on the platform near the top of the mainmast. The maintop, if Danielle remembered the terminology correctly.

He hurried on before Danielle could respond, but she did as he suggested. Moments later, the woman leaped from the platform. She landed in front of the three princesses, one hand hitting the deck to help absorb the impact.

Danielle stared. For an instant, the woman’s bare feet had sunk into the boards of the deck. The woman straightened. “Snow. Talia. Nice to see you both again.”

“Captain Hephyra,” Danielle guessed, still staring. Not even Talia could have made such a jump without breaking her legs.

Hephyra was easily a head taller than most of the crew, dressed in a fashion that might have come straight from the more risqué section of Snow’s wardrobe. The rain had soaked her white shirt, and a dark green bodice did little to preserve her modesty. Auburn hair hung nearly to her waist. Her sleeves were tied back above the elbow, revealing a slender gold tattoo around her wrist in the design of a chain. Her trousers were a style Danielle didn’t recognize, dark brown and tied at the knee to reveal well-muscled legs.

Her eyes drew Danielle’s attention, being a deeper green than she had ever seen before. They reminded her of new-budded leaves.

Captain Hephyra tugged a bandanna from her belt and tied her hair back from her face. “You’re welcome to hide out in your cabin while we prepare. Personally, I prefer the rain.” She spread her arms, tilting her face back.

“I’m not the one who decided to sail through this weather,” Hephyra answered. “The king’s man said it was important.”

Hephyra strode to the side of the ship, where the dinghy hung just below the railing. “That would be our other passenger, I presume?”

“Her name is Lannadae,” Danielle said. Already a handful of men gathered at the railing. Several carried knives and shortswords. “She’s a friend of the queen.”

“Hephyra had trespassed on the queen’s land,” Snow said. “The queen meant to make an example of her by killing her tree. She had it cut down and turned into this ship. She assumed that would be enough to kill Hephyra as well, but—”

“But the ancient trees are tougher than even the queen knows, may termites burrow her a second arse-hole.” Hephyra turned her head and spat. “Beatrice understood what this gift was. I had hidden within the grain to avoid the royal bitch’s wrath, but by the time we arrived in Lorindar my tree had begun to die. Beatrice found me and had her witch here do what she could to save the tree. The fairy queen’s oath binds this ship to Beatrice. None can break that bond, which makes me her servant. But as long as I stay, the Phillipa and I both survive.”

“You’ve heard what happened?” Danielle asked. At Hephyra’s nod, she said, “Beatrice is dying.” A knot tightened her throat.“Lannadae can take us to one of her kin, someone who might be able to save the queen.”

“Fine.” Danielle turned to Snow, suddenly furious. “Your spells helped Hephyra and her ship survive. Does that mean you can reverse those spells?”

“No need,” said Snow. “The fairy queen said this ship would serve Beatrice. Hephyra doesn’t have to obey us, but she does have to serve. Beatrice needs this.”

“Stupid oaths.” Hephyra spat a second time, then turned to the crew. “Bring the mermaid on board. The rest of you, get back to work.”

The crew seemed reluctant to obey. Danielle couldn’t hear their words, but their tone was angry. Lannadae shrank down into the bottom of the boat.

Hephyra smiled again, but this time it was a hungry expression. “If any of you feel you’ve no duties to perform, the ship could use fresh fertilizer.”

“The bottom of the ship is filled with earth, to feed the ship,” Snow explained. “You’ll smell it if you go down a few decks. On most ships they dump the chamber pots overboard, but Hephyra has a better use for them.” She grinned. “Lugging the pots through the dark lower decks is not one of the more popular duties.”

Most of the crew hurried away, though one lingered behind, watching Lannadae. Young as she was, the sight of her wet body clearly held him captivated. “This could make for a worthwhile journey after all,” he commented.

Hephyra glanced back. “Martin. Tough sailor. Drinks too much, but he’s good in the sheets.” She grinned at the double entendre.

“No danger,” Hephyra said. “He plans to have his way with her as soon as he can get her alone, but he knows better than to kill her or anything like that.”

Hephyra stared. “I was four days from the sapling the first time I knew the pleasure of a man. She’s what, ten years? Fifteen? Hard to tell with you mortals.”

Hephyra cocked her head to the side, studying Danielle. “It’s been two weeks since you last slept with your husband. Though you wanted to this morning, I think.”

Snow’s snickering only added to Danielle’s embarrassment. “She’s a dryad,” Snow explained. “A nymph.”

Talia’s voice shook. “If your man lays a hand on her, I’ll break it. And then I’ll make sure Snow sinks this ship to the bottom of the sea. How long will you and your tree survive in the sunless depths?”

“Don’t get your knickers in a knot.” Hephyra shook her head. “Martin, are we going to have any trouble with you keeping your mast under control?”

With a sigh, Hephyra crossed the deck and seized him by the belt and collar. Martin barely had time to scream before Hephyra tossed him overboard. “Never try to hide your lusts from a dryad, you foolish man.” She turned around. “Anyone else so much as thinks about bothering our guests, I’ll do worse to you.” To Danielle, she said, “Happy now?”

“A girl after my own heartwood.” Hephyra clapped Danielle’s shoulder. With her other hand, she gestured toward the barrels James was bringing on board. “Just tell me one thing, Princess. These three barrels of bait and fish offal you brought along. Don’t tell me you mean to divert this ship for a spot of fishing?”

Lirea walked among the humans throughout the night and into the morning, searching for any clue to her sister’s whereabouts. On a calmer day, she might have tried to track Lannadae through the water, but today the waves were too violent. Lannadae’s taste would have swiftly washed away.

Eventually, her questions led her to one of the taverns, a crowded place that smelled of old beer and dead fish. She looked around until she spotted a bedraggled fisherman with a curly brown beard, crooked nose, and hair so thick it could have been undine. Robson, if the last person she had talked to was to be trusted. Robson was huddled in the corner by the hearth, waiting out the storm with a half-empty mug of beer.

Lirea sat down across the table from him, her back to the fire. She forced a smile and asked, “You hunt lobster?”

Robson studied her for a long time. The heat of the flames raised steam from his damp clothes. “That’s right.”

“Have you sold any to the queen?” This was the ninth fisherman she had spoken to. She had received five drinks and two propositions, but the closest she had come to answers was one man’s suggestion that Robson had been seen making deliveries to the palace.

He frowned. “Not the queen, no. There was a woman who came to me a month or so back, asking for a barrel of live lobster. She didn’t say who it was for, but she dressed too well to be a commoner. Gorgeous eyes, lips as red as blood. Saucy lass. If I weren’t married, I’d have—”

“Can’t rightly say. I can’t imagine a lady as fine as her eating something so crass. The commoners enjoy them, but you’d never catch me dining on bottom-feeding sea roaches.”

“To the lady’s boat.” He scratched his chin. “I suppose she might have been a shipowner, stocking food for her crew. Though live lobster is a strange choice for a sea voyage, and I can’t imagine an owner rowing her own boat about.”

“I thought you said . . .” Lirea closed her eyes, trying to shut out the voices in her mind. A simple fisherman wouldn’t know Lannadae’s name.

The conversation in the tavern had grown louder. She heard someone else mention her name, but when she turned around, nobody appeared to be looking her way.

“You should kill them all before they kill you.” Robson’s voice was a chorus, taunting her. “Take your place as ruler of both land and sea.”

“No!” Lirea backed away. His words sounded real, but he couldn’t know who she was. This was a trick of her mind.

“Give it up, child.” The words no longer matched the shape of Robson’s mouth. What was he really saying? Other humans were beginning to stare as well. “You’ll never find her.”

Lirea held her breath until the pounding of her blood pushed the voices back. Staring at Robson, she said, “Lannadae is here.”

Her sister would have been hungry when she awoke, and she had always been fond of lobster. No undine would eat dead meat the way humans did, not if they had a choice. “Where did the woman take your lobster? Was there an undine with her? A mermaid?”

Robson shook his head. “A friend of mine claims to have spotted the soulless bastards circling the waters outside of the harbor late last night.” He downed the rest of his beer, then wiped his chin on his sleeve. “Some say they mean to sink our ships from below, that they’ve declared war on us all. Ought to scale and gut the whole lot of them.”

“Oh, but Princess Cinderwench would never permit that.” Another man stumbled toward the table. He was well built and wore the dark vest Lirea had seen on some of the sailors. He caught Lirea’s arms and pulled her close, squinting at her face.

Lirea restrained herself from drawing her knife from beneath her shirt and cutting him open. Instead, she grabbed his wrists and pried his arms back. “Cinderwench? You mean Princess Danielle.”

“No, not the princess. The fish-girl she brought on board. Pretty young thing, naked as a babe, but budding like a fresh—”

“Mind your tongue in front of the lady.” Robson started to rise, but the sailor shoved the table. The edge caught Robson in the waist, knocking him down.

Lirea grabbed the sailor’s hand and yanked him away. He started to resist, then grinned and slipped a hand around her waist.

“Careful, lass,” said Robson. “Be sure you know what you’re doing before you walk out with the likes of him.”