“Some of us do, anyway,” Talia said, glancing at Snow.
Snow adjusted her shirt. “Is there any way to lure Lirea away?”
“Ask them how long it’s been since the spawning began,” said Morveren, keeping her body low and out of sight.
Snow did so, and the merman responded, “Lirea returned less than a day ago.”
“She won’t leave,” said Lannadae. “Not for four more days at least.”
“We can’t just anchor the
Phillipa
off the Hiladi coast while we wait for her to finish,” Talia said.
“No.” Morveren looked up at Snow. “You will have to bring her to us. The tribe will be distracted.” She stretched out on the deck. “Such wonderful distractions. I miss those days.”
“What about the tribe?” asked Lannadae. “If Lirea leaves in the middle of spawning—”
“I don’t understand the urgency,” Snow said. “Undine are long-lived. Even if there were no births this year, it would hardly affect the size of the tribe.”
“You speak as a human,” Morveren answered. “The undine can no more ignore the urge to breed than you could ignore the urge to breathe. To interrupt the tribe in midcycle will cause confusion, possibly even violence.”
“Sounds like a good way to distract them from attacking our ships,” said Talia.
“They’ll likely turn that violence outward, becoming even more aggressive.” Morveren reached over to stroke Lannadae’s hair. “Lirea’s scent will linger for another day, maybe longer. If we can save her in that time, she could return to control the tribe. This is our best chance.”
Snow turned her attention back to the two undine in the water. “Forget what you found. Return to your tribe, and say nothing of us.”
She could feel their resistance. They had grown more suspicious, and on some level, they knew they were being controlled. Their minds fought to throw off Snow’s commands. Snow clenched her fists and pushed harder, expanding her spell to capture the third undine still hidden beneath the ship. “Forget!”
“Be careful,” Morveren said. “Too much power in such a spell can damage their minds.”
“Letting them tell Lirea we’re here can damage us,” said Talia.
Snow adjusted her spell, remembering the things Morveren had taught. Banishing a memory required a great deal of raw power, but walling that memory away for a day or two . . . She touched her choker, using the mirror’s magic to seal her spell.
As one, the undine disappeared into the water. Snow staggered back, and only Talia’s quick reflexes stopped her from falling.
“I don’t know how long my spell will last.” Snow sat down on the deck. “Go wake Danielle. Tell her we’re going for a late night swim.”
Danielle yawned as she waited for Captain Hephyra to finish stringing a makeshift curtain of old sailcloth across the poop deck.
“You and your modesty,” Hephyra said. “You’ve little to be ashamed of, you know.”
“Thanks,” Danielle said dryly.
“This is a hell of a spot for a swim.” Hephyra yanked the final knot tight, then tugged the curtain aside to allow Danielle to join the others. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay here while your friends go after the mermaid?”
“Captain Hephyra, are you worried about me?” Hephyra shrugged. “You get yourself killed, your prince gets angry. If he blames me, well, let’s just say I don’t need that kind of hassle.”
Danielle started to answer, but Talia was quicker.
“Danielle has to come. She gets cranky when we try to leave her behind. She pouts for weeks.”
“I do not!” Her heart wasn’t in the protest. Talia’s smile, fleeting though it might be, was worth a little teasing.
“Lirea already tried to kill you once, Highness,” said Hephyra. “What’s to stop her from trying again?”
“They are.” Danielle cocked a thumb at Talia and Snow.
“Remember, undine aren’t like you,” Lannadae said. “We don’t seek privacy when we breed. The tribe might be distracted, but if you draw attention to yourselves, they’ll notice.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Snow was already unbuttoning her shirt. Lannadae stared, obviously curious about human anatomy.
Danielle checked the curtain, then made sure nobody was watching from atop the masts before following suit. She stepped out of Lannadae’s view before shrugging off her robe and unlacing her nightgown.
“The transformation is unpleasant at first, but you get used to it,” Snow said. “It’s actually a lot of fun, once you figure out the breathing.”
“I don’t like this,” said Lannadae. “It’s magic that drove my sister mad. Magic that hurt your queen. Isn’t there another way?”
“Not unless you and Morveren want to swim in and fetch Lirea,” said Snow.
Talia was the last to disrobe, moving to the edge of the deck and keeping her back turned to the others. She refastened her belt over her bare skin, making sure both knives were secure in their sheaths. Two shorter knives were strapped to her forearms. “I’m not thrilled with the plan either.”
Danielle picked up her sword belt and pulled it tight around her bare waist. The buckle pinched her skin, and the leather dug into her hips.
“I’ll be able to use my mirrors to deflect attention when we approach,” Snow was saying. She frowned at the mermaid doll Morveren had given her. “How am I supposed to carry this thing?”
“You could put your shirt back on,” Talia said without looking.
Morveren untied the harness she wore and passed it to Snow. “Your body is still too skinny, and your chest is too big, but this should work. You won’t be comfortable, but you’ll be able to carry the doll and anything else you might need.”
Snow shrugged into the harness and used a length of twine to secure the doll to the strap beneath her left arm. Once the knots were pulled tight, she transferred her knife to the other side of the harness.
“It’s not unusual for young undine to join other tribes this time of year,” Morveren said. “If questioned, say you’ve come to join the line of Ilowkira. Use the magic we’ve practiced to draw Lirea out. Her anger and fear will work in your favor. Her body will be weary, so she’ll be slower than usual. The rest of the tribe will be reluctant to leave. You can encourage that reluctance to make sure they don’t follow. Once you lead her to the ship, we can work together to capture her.”
“More magic,” said Lannadae. “What if this only makes things worse?”
“More magic is the only hope your sister has,” Morveren answered. “It’s the only way to save her life.”
“If she can take care of everything with her magic, what does she need these two for?” Hephyra jabbed a finger at Talia and Danielle.
Talia scowled.“If everything works the way Morveren describes, Snow will be fine. Personally, I don’t have a lot of faith in her judgment.”
“So send Lannadae,” said Hephyra.
Lannadae’s scales puffed out at that suggestion, and her fear was easy to read. She didn’t speak; she simply turned to Morveren, eyes wide.
Morveren shook her head. “She’s a royal. The moment her scent fills the water, they’ll know she’s there. If she were older, her scent might be strong enough to wrest control from her sister. But young as she is, I can’t think of a faster way to get you all killed.”
“We’ll be fine.” Danielle hugged herself against the wind. She felt exposed and a little embarrassed. Childbirth had left its lines on her, and she couldn’t help comparing her body to Snow’s unblemished form. But her discomfort was nothing compared to Talia’s. Talia was as stiff and tense as Danielle had ever seen her. She refused to look at anyone. Words would only make her more uncomfortable, so Danielle simply asked, “Can we please hurry?”
“Snow can transform herself.” Morveren crawled toward Talia. “I’ll take care of these two. I’ve rested enough to do that much.”
Talia’s hand shot out, catching Morveren’s wrist. “Touch me and I’ll break your arm.”
Morveren tugged free and backed away, scowling. Danielle moved between them. “Talia, she’s not going to hurt you.”
“I know that,” Talia whispered. “I know it’s the only way to reach Lirea, but I don’t like people using magic to tamper with my body. I don’t want her touching me.”
Danielle did her best to swallow her own anxiety. “I’ll go first.” She sat down on the deck, gasping as her backside touched the cold, wet wood.
Her palms grew slick with nervous sweat as Morveren pulled a scale from her tail and prepared to cut her skin. Danielle forced a smile for Talia’s sake. Morveren’s hands were swift and steady, completing the cuts almost before the pain hit. Almost.
Soon Danielle’s legs were crushing together. She clenched her jaw, biting back a shriek. Her nails dug into the deck as she waited for the shock to pass.
Morveren turned to Talia, the bloody scale still in her hand.
“You’ve got to be joking,” said Talia.
“What if Snow casts the spell instead?” Danielle asked.
“No,” said Morveren. “She should conserve her strength for Lirea. I can—”
“I’ll do it.” Snow lay on the deck, wearing nothing but her choker and Lirea’s harness. Her red-scaled tail flapped against the sailcloth curtain.
Talia sat down and closed her eyes. “Make it quick.”
Danielle studied her own undine body. Her torso was thicker, similar to the way it had looked in those first weeks after Jakob’s birth. Her hair felt coarser, and there was more of it than before.
“I hate this,”Talia whispered. She hadn’t made a sound during her transformation, but her face was sweaty. Her tail was a deep blue, fading to green near the fins.
“You’re beautiful,” Lannadae said. “You all are.”
“You shouldn’t waste your power playing color games,” Morveren said, frowning.
“But Talia looks so much better in blue,” Snow insisted, climbing up onto the railing. Before Morveren could respond, she dropped backward into the water.
Danielle reached over to take Talia’s hand. For once, Talia didn’t pull away. “It won’t last long,” she said. “Snow will remove the spell as soon as she can.”
Talia took a deep breath, then straightened. “I guess we’d better follow to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble. Come on, Princess. The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be able to shed these scales.”
“I’ll take the
Phillipa
west to make sure we’re out of sight,” said Captain Hephyra. “I’d come with you if I could. Spawning season sounds like fun.”
“You’re as bad as she is,” Talia said, gesturing toward Snow. She shook her head and dove in after Snow.
“Remember your promise,” said Morveren. “Please bring my granddaughter back to me.”
“We will.” Danielle studied the railing. There was no graceful way for a mermaid to climb over. Well, Talia had made it look graceful, but that didn’t count. Danielle scooted forward and grabbed a belaying pin to pull herself up. The wood scraped painfully against her chest. She twisted around, balancing on her hips. Her weight shifted, and her body tilted toward the water.
She overbalanced and fell, and her back hit the water hard. Her body sliced into the water. She pushed away from the ship, kicking to the surface. Her muscles launched her higher than she intended. This body would take some practice.
“We’ll be waiting for you,” Captain Hephyra shouted.
“Thank you!” Danielle waved, then blushed when she realized the sailcloth curtain no longer shielded her from view. Her cheeks burned. She sank lower and swam over to Talia, who had kept close to the hull. Lowering her voice, she said, “Let’s not tell Armand about this part.”
“Personally, I plan on drinking until I’ve pushed the whole thing from my mind,” Talia answered.
“Lirea’s will is strong, but her thoughts are chaotic,” Morveren called down. “Brute force won’t help you. Use her confusion to trick her into following.”
“I will!” Snow leaped from the water like a dolphin, then vanished beneath the waves.
“Be careful, Cinderella!” Lannadae shouted from the ship.
Talia snorted and disappeared after Snow. Shaking her head, Danielle followed them both.
To Danielle, the sea had always been an impressive thing, but ultimately dull. Water was water, fish were fish, and seaweed was seaweed.
She soon discovered how mistaken she had been. Swimming through the ocean was like flying through another world. Her body felt light as air. The currents were gentle winds, pushing her to the right. Those winds grew stronger and colder the deeper she swam.
Dark shapes passed beneath her. A school of fish, or creatures larger and more distant? There was no way to be certain.
For the most part, she stayed close to the surface, skimming just beneath the waves. She kept her arms at her sides, imitating Snow’s movements. The water washed over her face, rinsing the sweat from her body.
Breathing water for the first time had been a shock, but after a few coughing fits, she had finally mastered the trick. She doubted she would ever get used to the water flowing through her gills, or the sensation of her neck opening and closing with each breath. Equally difficult was learning to clamp shut the muscles deep within her chest, sealing air in the bottom of her lungs to help her float.