Because You Love to Hate Me(40)

Not only did Sarah leave me with questions about the ethical boundaries that restrict our fictional characters’ categorizations of good and evil, but she also left me pondering the fictional setting of her story—a world that deals with magic in a unique and refreshing way.

THINGS I STILL WANTED TO KNOW AFTER FINISHING:

1)Who is the Harry Potter to Sigrid’s Voldemort? Whose antagonist is she?

2)What will she do with her power?

3)What will magical politics be like afterward?

4)Can she decide who’s allowed to use the magic reservoir?

5)What did Thomas represent?

Perhaps the answers to all my questions don’t really matter. What I read was enough to make me genuinely think about what makes a villain, and that’s what I wanted from the beginning.





THE SEA WITCH





BY MARISSA MEYER



The razor-sharp barnacles clawed at my fingertips as I strained to wrench them free of the rotting wood. I cursed them repeatedly as I worked, not having known the depths of my hatred for barnacles until this moment. Vicious, stubborn little parasites. Vile, thankless cadgers.

It wasn’t long before I was also cursing my own feeble muscles and long, ink-black hair that wouldn’t stop swimming in front of my face and obscuring my vision. Another barnacle sliced into my palm and I let out a scream of frustration. Grabbing the whale-bone knife from my sack, I lifted the blade over my shoulder with every intention of hacking the nasty creatures to pieces, but I resisted the temptation long enough for the fury to pass. My heart was still thumping, but reason began to return. I needed the barnacles intact or this wouldn’t work. I needed them whole.

I drew in a mouthful of salt water, swished it angrily around my cheeks, then forced it out through my teeth. My tail flicked against the side of the long-drowned ship, making a hollow drumming sound that matched my pulse. Eyeing the barnacles, I resolved that I would not be deterred. They were the last ingredient I needed, and I would have them, no matter if they left my fingertips shredded and scarred. After all, what was this temporary pain to a lifetime of bliss?

Shoving my drifting hair out of my face, I returned to my work, digging the point of the dagger around the barnacles’ edges. I leveraged it against the wood, prying and grunting. The wood began to crumble and I grasped the edge of a waterlogged plank and pulled hard, bracing my tail against the ship’s side. It creaked and groaned and finally released, just as a particularly cruel barnacle sliced through the pad of my thumb. I yanked my hand away with a snarl. Blood blossomed like pearls on my skin before dispersing in the dark water.

“That’s it,” I growled, stabbing at the traitorous barnacle. With a pop, it dislodged and sank down toward the ocean floor. It wasn’t as satisfying a death as I would have hoped, but no matter. I had what I’d come for.

Opening the sack that bobbed on my shoulder, I stashed the splintered plank of barnacle-infested wood inside. Twenty live barnacles, the spell demanded. I had twice that, but I wanted to be sure I had plenty, in case something went wrong and I had to start over. I’d never tried such a complicated spell before, nor had I ever so badly wanted one to work. Needed one to work.

That left only one more ingredient to gather: three silver scales taken from the tail of the merman I wished to fall in love with me.

I still wasn’t sure how I would get close enough to Prince Lorindel to cut three scales from his tail, but the royal concert was tonight and he was sure to be there. Surrounded by his horrid entourage, no doubt, but they couldn’t spend the entire evening at his side. And I only had to get close enough for a moment.

Three scales. Three insignificant little scales, and by this time tomorrow, Lorindel would be mine.

I shut my eyes, clutching my bag to my chest. Brave Lorindel, who had slain an elusive frilled shark and brought its body back for the entire kingdom to feast on. Kind Lorindel, who had labored beside the working merfolk to build shelters for creatures who had lost their homes in the aftermath of a devastating surface storm. Fair Lorindel, with his cunning, boyish smile. Good Lorindel, who was destined for greatness, who would be king, who would need a queen.

I opened my eyes, buoyed by the longing that pulsated beneath my skin.

I would be that queen.

My tail twisted in the wet sand as I turned away from the ship, shifted the bag on my shoulder, and pushed myself upward. I kept hold of my knife, ever wary of predators, but my thoughts still drifted toward my spell and my prince.

I ducked beneath the mast of the ship, which had fallen ages ago, its massive sails long eroded by the water, and was gliding over the ship’s bow when a form rose up before me. I cried out and tried to stop, but my momentum carried me straight into the merman’s chest.

A chuckle vibrated in the water around us. Hands gripped my shoulders, easing me away from him. My heart skittered as I recognized the face—that perfect, beautiful face. Lorindel’s mouth was wide and amused, his black eyes locked onto mine, his blond hair swirling in the current.

“This is a surprise, Nerit,” he said. And oh, my name, in that voice. A shudder cascaded from my neck to the tip of my tail. “What are you doing so close to the shallows?”

“I—nothing,” I stammered before amending it to, “Just looking.”

I swallowed hard. His hands were still on my shoulders.

He was so close. Never once had he been so close to me, other than perhaps a brief passing in the coral halls of the Sea King’s castle. There had never been a reason for him to be so close to me. I was no one.