“Since he’s human, that connection would help to define and maintain her form as well,” Snow said, nodding. “When his body died, the spirit still sustained her, but she lost that clarity of form. She’s trapped between human and undine.”
“You know magic?” Morveren asked, her voice eager. “Then you understand the cost of such a transformation.”
Snow shook her head. “I’ve read about transformation magic, but I’ve never been able to master it.”
“The spells are . . . difficult.” Morveren slumped lower. “I should have refused.”
One of the cormorants swooped down, wings pounding. The bird seemed on the verge of panic. A fish tail protruded from his beak, and his head convulsed as he tried to swallow. Danielle started toward him, but Morveren was faster.
Morveren sang a low, warbling note, and the cormorant hopped toward her. The mermaid grabbed him gently behind the head. She slipped the fingers of her other hand into the beak, slowly working the fish free. The fish still flopped weakly, so she slapped it against a rock.
“What’s wrong with the bird?” Danielle asked.
Morveren picked up a sharpened flake of stone and used it to cut a loop of twine from the cormorant’s neck. The bird fluffed its feathers, then flew up into the trees. “I trained them to fish for me. The string stops them from swallowing their prey, so they have to come back to me to remove it.” She bit into the fish, scales and all, then spat the meat into her hand. The cormorant cried out, and Morveren threw the meat, smiling faintly as the bird flew after it. “They’re not terribly smart creatures, but I can’t hunt as well as I used to.”
“What about your magic?” Danielle watched the cormorant disappear into the mist. “Why do you need birds to hunt for you? Can’t your spells take you away from here?”
“My magic . . . isn’t what it once was,” Morveren said. “I used most of my strength helping Lirea. Trying to help her. Even if there was a way to completely restore her to what she was, I no longer have the power to do it. Nor, I think, would she allow me to do so.”
“Lirea has turned the undine against us,” Danielle said. “She demands tribute in exchange for safe passage through the sea. Gold and other treasures.”
Morveren crawled to the edge of the rock and lay flat, staring down at Lannadae. “There are stories of a time, thousands of years ago, when the undine were one tribe. They say the first undine were more like you, able to walk and live on land as well as the sea. We were one family, enslaved to the humans. We ruled the sea in their name, and all paid tribute to our masters.”
“What happened?” asked Snow.
“Some believe we turned against our rulers, wrecking their ships and stealing their treasures until they were too weak to protect themselves. It may be Lirea hopes to do the same. To unite the tribes and regain our former glory. And perhaps to punish your kind for what was done to her.”
“Help us to stop her,” said Danielle. “And to save our queen.”
Morveren sat up to face Danielle. Despite her filth, there was something regal in her bearing, a strength that hadn’t been there before. “Your queen’s soul is trapped within the knife, along with Gustan’s. I will help you retrieve the knife and save your queen.” Morveren tugged a leaf from her hair and flicked it away. “In return, you must help me save Lirea.”
Before Danielle could answer, Talia stepped around to the mermaid. “Lirea attacked our queen. She threatened Princess Danielle. She killed your son and one granddaughter and still hopes to kill your other granddaughter.”
“None of which would have happened if not for me.” Morveren turned to Danielle. “The knife wasn’t meant to cure her. It was meant to keep Lirea alive until I could complete the spell. I fear the knife has trapped her in the moment of Gustan’s death. A part of her is always reliving what she did to save herself. I’ve condemned her to torment enough to drive anyone to madness and hatred. Please let me try to undo the damage I’ve caused her.”
A thunderclap echoed over the water. Danielle’s first thought was that the storms had returned, but the sky was clear.
“That was cannon fire,” said Snow.
“Could Lirea have found the
Phillipa
?” Danielle asked.
Talia shook her head. “The
Phillipa’s
guns are smaller. That’s another ship.” She tensed as a second explosion followed, slightly higher in pitch than the first. “
That
was the
Phillipa.
”
Below, Douglas and James were shouting for them to return.
“Please,” said Morveren. “Lirea’s actions aren’t her own. Let me try to make amends for what I’ve done to my family and to yours.”
Danielle nodded. “If you can help us save Beatrice, we’ll do what we can for Lirea.”
“Assuming we live long enough to reach her,” added Talia.
Danielle searched for the
Phillipa
as she climbed down from Morveren’s island, but the mist was too thick. She dropped into the shallow water with a splash, biting back a gasp at the cold.
“Princess!” James shouted. He and Douglas brought the cutter alongside and helped Danielle climb on board. Lannadae was already there, dripping puddles into the front of the boat.
Morveren followed them down, a woven sack looped over one arm. She gripped the tree roots and grasses to control her slide, then dropped into the deeper water at the back of the island. She circled around to the boat, reaching it just after Snow.
Once everyone was on board, James pressed his oar against the rock, pushing them back toward the
Phillipa
.
Morveren and Lannadae sat in the front, holding one another and crying together. Morveren sang softly, though there didn’t appear to be any magic in the sound. It reminded Danielle of the crooning, meaningless sounds she sometimes made to comfort Jakob.
Several more cannons fired in quick succession. “Who are they fighting?” Danielle asked, knowing the question was a foolish one. They could no more see the
Phillipa
from here than she could.
She counted six more shots before the mist thinned enough to make out the shape of the
Phillipa
and a larger ship with red sails.
“Hiladi mercenaries,” Talia said.
Douglas stopped rowing. “Hold here. We’re not bringing the princess into the middle of a fight.”
Danielle turned to the undine. “Lannadae, you said Lirea’s prince was Hiladi.”
It was Morveren who answered. “He was, but why his people would help Lirea, I couldn’t say. They see our kind as little better than animals. Given what she did to him, they should be the last to come to her aid.”
Snow squinted at the second ship. “I count four masts.”
“That’s a galleon.” Talia swore. “She shouldn’t have been fast enough to catch the
Phillipa
with a broadside.”
“They’re riding Lirea’s winds.” Morveren had taken the remains of her fish from her sack. She chewed as she spoke. “They speed the Hiladi ship while slowing your own.”
Danielle stared. “The storms that tried to sink our ship. Lirea controls those?”
“She inherited them,” Morveren corrected. She picked a piece of fin from her teeth and tossed it into the water. “Nine spirits of the air. They were Gustan’s guardians. When he died, they remained with Lirea. She doesn’t control them, exactly. She may not even understand what they are. But they serve her.”
“What do you mean?” asked Snow.
“After Lirea killed Gustan, I tried to help her. I used magic to calm Lirea, but her spirits attacked before I could complete my spells.” Morveren jabbed her half-eaten fish back toward the clouds. “I could feel Lirea’s fear and rage through the winds.”
“So it’s an empathic bond rather than true mastery,” Snow said. “Less precise, but harder to break. No wonder I had such a hard time fighting them.”
“You fought Lirea’s spirits?” Morveren sounded impressed. “One of them remained behind to guard my island. I meant to ask how you had gotten through.”
Lannadae beamed. “Snow White is a powerful sorceress. She’s done many amazing things, Grandmother. I can tell you some of the stories. How she fled to the woods to escape her mother, or how she fought her mother to avenge the death of her lover.”
“I’m more interested in how you beat those spirits,” Morveren said. “I was never able to destroy them. It was all I could do to stop them from killing me.”
“Mirror magic.” Snow raised her chin, showing off her choker. “I didn’t try to destroy the spirit. Instead I used one of the mirrors to capture the spiritual emanations from the crew. When we sent the mirror away, the winds followed.”
“Given the size of those mirrors, how do you maintain the strength of the emanations?”
Snow beamed. “These aren’t the true mirrors. Each one is clear glass, bound to a much more powerful mirror at the palace. There’s plenty of magic in that one to—”
Danielle touched Snow’s arm. “Is now really the best time for magical theory?”
“Oh. Sorry.” Snow flushed and turned around.
“The
Phillipa
’s having trouble holding her position,” said Talia. “The winds again?”
Douglas spat over the side. “She’s outgunned. The
Phillipa
’s a tough old bitch, but she can’t take on a Hiladi galleon with the winds against her.”
More shots thundered over the water. Screams followed, making Danielle flinch. “Snow, can your magic affect the Hiladi ship?”
“I can’t do much from here.” Snow stood up in the boat. “If I can reach the ship, I might be able to stop them. The smoke should cover my approach.”
“No,” said Talia. “The wind is too strong. It sweeps the smoke away between shots. If even one person spots you, you’re dead.”
“So what?” James snapped. “We wait here in the cutter and watch Captain Hephyra go down with her ship? I’m not watching another ship sink! We’ve got to do something.”
Danielle leaned toward Morveren. “When we came to your island, you sang to us. Can you do the same to the Hiladi? Frighten them off, or at least lull them into stopping their assault?”
Morveren’s smile revealed missing teeth and a fish scale stuck in her gumline. “That’s one of the few powers left to me. My voice isn’t what it once was, and I can’t sing to them without affecting your friends on the ship as well, but I’ll do what I can. You’ll want to seal your ears.”
“With what?” Danielle glanced at the boat’s contents, finding nothing beyond an extra oar, a small barrel of fresh water, a length of old rope, and a sodden mouse nest.
“Oh, that’s right. Humans can’t close their ears at will.” Morveren reached into her sack and pulled out a small basket. Inside was a flat black stone. A cluster of flowerworms clung to the surface of the stone, their bodies limp. “These might work.”
James scooted back. “You’re not putting worms in my ears, mermaid.”
“No, of course not.” Morveren cradled the stone in her lap. “Just their secretions. The paste should muffle my song enough for you to resist. You don’t have to use them, but if you refuse, don’t hold me responsible. The song of the undine is known to have a powerful effect on men. A few find themselves irresistibly drawn to the singer.” She lay back and winked. Beside her, Lannadae muffled a giggle.
Douglas and James spoke as one. “We’ll take the worms.”
Morveren smiled and plucked one of the worms from the rock. “Don’t know what I’ll use for my poor skin,” she muttered. “Who’s first?”
“Me.” Danielle held the side of the boat for balance as she crawled closer to Morveren. She sat down and tilted her head to the side, pushing her hair back. “How do we clean this stuff out when we’re finished?”
“It will dry and crumble away in a day or two.” Morveren’s cold fingers pinched the top of Danielle’s ear.
The slime was cool, trickling into Danielle’s ear like syrup. She swallowed, trying to relieve the sense of pressure inside her head. It felt as though she had jammed a finger deep into her ear.
Morveren gently turned Danielle’s head and repeated the process on the other ear. She squeezed the rest of the slime out of the first worm and grabbed a second before pronouncing Danielle done.
Danielle rubbed a finger along the outer edge of her ear. Her fingertip came away smeared with a film of pearly wax.
She moved to the side to make room for Snow. She could still hear the others talking, but their voices were muffled. She could hear the cannons as well, and the screams of the wounded. “Please hurry.”
Lannadae plucked two worms from the stone and helped, squeezing the paste into James’ ears while Morveren tended to Snow. Even with both undine working together, it seemed to take forever before they were finished with everyone.
Morveren returned the worms to their basket, then wiped her hands on her scales. “Are you ready?”
Her words sounded flat and distant. Danielle nodded, as did the others.
Morveren began to sing. There were no words, only a deep, mournful melody. Even Danielle could feel the longing behind the song, the sorrow and the despair. She touched the mirror on her wrist, thinking of Jakob and Armand. Tears filled her eyes.