Sea Witch(69)

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even cry before the harpoon speared him through the stomach.

Another wave of the little mermaid’s hand, and the harpoon bucked wildly, pulling itself and Evie’s father into the rumbling deep.

The little mermaid moved then, surging below the surface to catch him before his crew regained its wits and tried to haul its captain up by the gun’s rope.

She pulled him off the spear, blood flooding in the water, and as she did so, he opened his eyes. Not yet fully dead, despite the gaping wound.

In them flashed the slightest hint of recognition. That he was not only nearly dead, that he was not just seeing a mermaid, but that he was seeing his daughter’s dead friend before him.

“Anna . . . ,” he said, his voice but a whisper and a gurgle.

“Yes,” she replied.

The light in his eyes flickered, and the little mermaid reached into her hair, pulled out the coral knife she’d fashioned into a decorative comb, and plunged it into his chest, right in to the soft spot between his ribs and sternum where it would pierce his heart.

More blood in the water.

The light left his eyes.

Finally, the little mermaid felt a release. Just a small amount. A crumb could not satisfy such a hunger.

Not yet.

She gathered the corpse, called to the clothing trunk that had been floating down below as she worked, and swam as fast as she could to Havnestad.

The little mermaid arrived close to midnight, heart pounding after so many miles. She immediately ducked into the cove, placing her trunk in the shallows behind the great rock wall that divided the beach, leaving Havnestad blind to her catch. She’d search it later for the perfect gown and then toss it back into the sea.

She returned to Evie’s father, whom she’d left under the watchful eye of a giant black octopus who had made the cove its home.

“Later, beast. He’s mine to start.”

The octopus slunk away in a puff of indigo ink to a small cave in the rock. The little mermaid returned her attention to the dead man. His olive skin was tinged white and the whole of him had begun to bloat.

She hoped the spell would still work without him being freshly dead. Hoped that because it was she who had killed him, she already possessed what the magic needed. That it was bottled inside of her with her hate, ready to explode. Ready to enact her plan.

The little mermaid took him by both hands. Shut her eyes.

And asked for her life back.

“Líf. Dau?i. Minn líf. Minn bjo?. Sei?r. Sei?r. Sei?r.”

A warmth immediately filled her, running from her fingertips to her head to her heart down the length of her tail and fin. It spread like the mouthful of summer wine she’d stolen with Evie on her eleventh birthday. It spread like the way Nik had made her feel in those days, his dark eyes lighting up her soul.

It spread like life. Líf.

In a flash and shock of pain, the little mermaid knew a change had been made. Where once she had a tail and fin, she now had legs again. But she didn’t have her soul back. Not yet.

She dropped Evie’s father and pushed her way to the surface, her arms tired no more. And when she reached for air, her lungs couldn’t get enough. The fresh night flushed through her, warm and free. Knocking loose a little bit of the hatred that made up her fabric. But not much. There was so much left.

And as she found her swimming legs treading water, she spied a girl on land. Leaving the beach for the step bridge of rocks leading into the cove.

Evie.

The brand-new girl smiled from her spot in the tide and adjusted the comb in her hair, the knife’s edge hidden among the damp waves.

Yes, my plan will work.





30


I BURST OUT OF THE CASTLE DOORS AND INTO THE TULIP garden, hot on Annemette’s heels. I took off after Iker’s command and haven’t looked back, but I can hear them coming.

“Annemette, please!” I shout. I know I betrayed her, but even if she despises me for sharing her secret, she can’t deny I did it out of love. Although her own betrayal felt more like spite than love, it doesn’t bite. Not really. Because all I can think is how I can fix it. I can do it. I will do it.

If I can save her, we can use our magic to run away, far from here. It pains me, but it’s the only choice left to make.

My lungs heave to keep up with my pace, pure adrenaline propelling me forward as I tear down the cobblestones. I take a hard right through a gateway of stiff black rocks and onto the soft sand of the cove.

The moon shines heavy here, reflecting off every surface in a pearlescent glow. Annemette has stopped running, brought to her knees in the sand, an inch from the lapping tide. The gold thread of her dress catches the moonlight as her shoulders heave in a dry sob. She’s not far from where she rescued Nik—on the beach side of the cove, the stone wall jutting over the blind side.

“Annemette,” I call tentatively. The sand slows my progress, already inhibited by my heavy ball gown. She doesn’t move—chin tipped down toward the tide—nor does she seem to hear me. I’m about to repeat myself when she makes it clear she knows I’m there.

“Go away.”

“I’m sorry.” I settle onto the sand beside her, leaving more distance between us than I ever have before. “I let hope take over my words. I thought telling Nik would help us satisfy the magic.”