part0006

She blew the hair from her face, looked down at her recently acquired appendage, and flexed it. She watched as the black scales glistened in the firelight of the cave. This shit was not fairy-tale-like at all. In fact, it weighed a bloody ton. She could barely move from her perch on the submerged platform in the cave that held Merlin’s Gate. Graceful, she was not. In fact, she was close to resembling a manatee. In mating season. After a boatload of cake.

She flicked it again and grunted as she struggled once again to lift the mass, not fighting the sigh that erupted from her mouth when she got splashed in the face.

“Well, this isn’t annoying at all,” she complained out loud, and was answered with a louder splash. Dave, the smallest of the krackens, had come to keep her company. A lone tentacle lifted and patted her head.

“I know, I know. Thank you, sweetie.” She smiled at him. To some, he would be a monster, yet to her he was a cute, tentacled creature. He had become a close friend in the past few weeks.

After her father had thrown her away—literally—she had been taken in by the Guardian of Kracken’s Hole, Maeve Moonchild, who, as fate would have it, was also her cousin. Their mothers had vanished at the same time, leaving their children with no clue as to their heritage. Maeve was only recently made aware of hers and had used her powers to defeat Arietta's father, who, with his warlock love, had been trying to take over the Gate. Was Arietta upset about her father’s death… Nope, not at all. In fact, she held no hard feelings. How could she, when her own father had seen fit to use her as an experiment, in the hope he could drain her of her witch blood, but instead had cursed her to an existence that was slowly killing her?

Her body would shift from siren to human with no warning, leaving her up creek if she was underwater or up creek without a paddle if she was on land. So, she had little choice but to stay in her new home underneath Kracken’s Hollow. Wallowing in her own self-pity.

“Come on, woman, turn that frown upside down.” The voice of Arietta's personal pain in the arse drew her thoughts away from her huge... appendage, to the ginger tom cat that sauntered into the cavern. His tail ramrod straight in the air and the bell on his neck that gave off a tinkle, he was the epitome of indifference.

“Alright for you. You get to sleep in a nice soft bed and stay dry,” Arietta stated firmly, before she started her next round of coughing. Most people who had a little cough could go get a throat sweet or a cough mixture. That wouldn’t help Arietta, not when her lungs were battling with her flux in form. It was one of the reasons Arietta knew her time was coming to an end.

“Don’t be a Debbie downer. Maeve is combing through the books she has and has been using the World Paranormal Web. We will figure it out,” Grundlepus stated quite confidently as he parked his furry bottom on the step that led to her current reclined position.

“Are you always this upbeat?” she asked, wishing she could feel a slither of his hope.

“Always. As Aunt Hilda always said, “When you do not know what you are doing and what you are doing is the best.”

Arietta blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Not the bloody foggiest. That woman was so crazy her imaginary friend took out a restraining order.” Grundlepus sighed. “Come on, Arietta, you need to keep your chin up.”

“Easier said than done,” Arietta murmured, and then groaned as the pain of an imminent change swept over her. Her body convulsed as her tail vanished and changed back into human legs. Arietta moaned. “That shit hurts,” she panted, and grabbed the towel that was set on the ledge for her. She had little choice but to stay where she was. The body flux could and would happen at any time, leaving her screwed either way.

“Maybe don’t fight it,” Grundlepus suggested, earning a glare from Arietta. “Or maybe I will shut up.”

“Yeah, that might be best,” Arietta fired back, and pulled the towel around her. What she wouldn't give to get dry, snuggle in her comfy fleecy pyjamas, and get into an actual bed. Instead she was stuck on a watery ledge, and she didn't think her fingers would ever come back from being all pruney.

“Grundlepus. You owe me a tenner—ARSE,” Binky shouted out as he flew through the door and into the cavern. The pigeon swooped low before landing next to the ginger cat. Arietta internally winced. Binky was the familiar of her cousin, Maeve. A pigeon of dubious origin, he had the mouth of a rugby player with the tact of a bull in a china shop. She wouldn't have minded the winged pain in the arse, but he was also best buddies with the damn cat that claimed to be her familiar. Not that she could remember ever being given one.

Thick as thieves, when they were not bugging the shit out of her and telling her to keep her chin up, they were bickering like a married couple. Fighting over who had won the poker game—it was usually Denzel, also known as Kracken’s Hole’s very own ghost parrot. Arietta sighed and ignored them as they argued. Krackens, ghosts, pirates and talking animals, as well as growing a tail, was pushing her over her limit and into the big old hole of despair.

Dave's tentacle appeared again, this time wrapping around her ankle gently and squeezing. A monster from legend, the kraken was as far from that as you could get. In fact, he was more like a puppy that just wanted lovies—wet, soppy ones but lovies all the same. Where he was cute and almost cuddly, Brutas was handsy. When she had been told that she could stay within the cavern, she had been handed a long stick and was told to poke Brutas with it should he get handsy. Arietta hadn't thought anything of it until later on. When trying to sleep, Brutas had in fact slapped her bottom with a tentacle. Her scream had sent the creature diving for the depths, and Grundlepus had laughed hard and said, “We told you so.”

Her life had certainly taken a turn for the strange and complicated. But looking back at what her life had been, she could confirm she had never been happy. She had small snippets of memories of her mother—her eyes, her smile and the sound of her voice. Yet that was it. Her father had made sure there was never anything around the house that had belonged or was even touched by her mother. Hell, she was lucky she had been allowed to stay.

He tolerated her. She knew that now. He kept her around for one reason, and that was so he could use her in his pathetic power grab. Only it had achieved nothing other than getting himself killed and screwing her life up well and truly.

“Arietta, are you listening? I swear, these witches have the attention span of a pissed-up parrot,” Grundlepus stated with a sigh, and fixed Arietta with a hard stare. “Concentrate, woman.”

Feeling more than a little childish, Arietta stuck out her tongue at the obviously frustrated ginger cat. What did he expect her to do? She couldn't go anywhere, couldn't do anything. So, before the cat had a chance to chew her ear off, she went to the only place she could. Taking a deep breath, she threw herself into the pool, diving under the water and letting the change take over again, giving her a tail. She still couldn't breathe under the water, but she could swim about and resurface. Hopefully by then, Grundlepus would have taken the hint.