Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)(18)

“I followed your footprints,” came a voice from above.

Ariel turned and watched the seagull execute a delicate landing on the stone with such precise control her feet touched the surface just as she slowed to a stop.

“Think of that,” Jona said. “I followed a mermaid’s footprints in the sand. That should be part of an epic poem. Or a book. Or something.”

Ariel raised an eyebrow at the gull.

“It’s something that shouldn’t exist,” the gull went on, explaining helpfully.

Ariel rolled her eyes. I get it. I’m not stupid.

Flounder popped his head out of the water. “Wow, that was amazing. It went right according to plan!”

Scuttle landed heavily on the stone next to his great-grandgull, more like a bomb of feathers than a professional flier.

“You bet your gills it did!” Scuttle crowed. “You shoulda seen them. They ran like we were the plague! Like we were terrifying multiarmed giants! Like we were—”

“Gulls making a mess everywhere,” Flounder finished.

“Well, you say potato,” Scuttle sniffed.

If you’re all done, Ariel signed, I think I have a castle to get to.

“The queen thinks it’s time to go,” Flounder said.

“Phase two, I gotcha,” Scuttle said, winking.

“You’ll…you’ll keep an eye on her, right?” Flounder asked softly.

“Aw, you bet we will,” Scuttle promised. “She’s like family. We’ll watch over her like hawks. No, not like hawks. They’re too snooty. Like albatrosses. No, they’re so difficult. Like…lions!”

“We’ll make sure one of us has an eye on her at all times,” Jona translated.

“But right now”—the old gull wheezed a little—“I may take a breather, you know? These bones ache more than they used to. The kid here can take care of things for a bit. I’d trust her with my life.”

In answer, Ariel scruffed him under the chin and kissed him on the beak.

She then turned to both gulls and bowed, clasping her hands together.

Thank you both for everything.

Scuttle tried to imitate the gesture. It came off as far less impressive, but was twice as endearing. Jona cocked her head and regarded him with a glittering right eye: if Ariel had to guess, she would have said that the younger bird was smiling, perhaps fondly, at her great-grandfather.

“Good luck. We’ll be up above,” the gull said, and waited for just the right wind to sweep her like a kite up into the sky, slowly and methodically. Scuttle flapped hard and took off like a shot.

“Be careful. Please, Ariel,” Flounder begged, sounding like the old Flounder.

Ariel gave him a smile.

Then she made her way to the castle.





She decided to avoid the stone staircase that led directly from the beach into the castle; that was for the enjoyment of the prince and his household only. She remembered joyfully racing down its steps to the sunset beach, then belatedly noticing maids and footmen carefully skirting the edge and going around to the back of the complex.

She followed her memory, circling around the north side of the castle. Right before the wet, compact sand petered out into a lush estuary, the well-trodden path of the commoners who worked in the castle became visible. Hidden from the amazing views and picturesque scenery of the bay, scullery maids scoured out pots with rags and the bristly stalks of local horsetail plants. Housekeepers beat carpets draped on the stunted, hearty little bushes and pines that lived too close to the salt water that was life to the sea and poison to the land. Scullery maids and boys dumped baskets of garbage onto a growing midden.

Right there.

In the middle of the rich, clean water that fed and drained the shellfish nursery, where seashore birds made their nests, where eels and elvers and minnows made their lives.

Ew.

There was no formal sign for that.

Ariel wrinkled her nose and turned away.

As she passed more servants and messengers and peddlers and couriers, she wondered if anyone would recognize the mute girl from years before. She hadn’t aged the way humans did. Her face did look different, but was it different enough? Her hair was tightly bound against her head. She wasn’t wearing the pretty blue dress with its fitted bodice and was definitely missing the giant, floppy, pretty-as-a-picture bow the maid Carlotta had put in her hair.

Was she imagining it, or were people looking sideways at her? Were they trying to take her in without seeming to stare? Did they notice her? Was she just being paranoid?

She didn’t have a plan if someone stopped her. She had nothing more to go on than sneak into the castle and find her father. Either she had enough confidence as queen that she felt she could deal with whatever was thrown at her, or she literally had no way to plan for the unexpected and so didn’t. Probably the latter, she thought with a sigh. Still the same old Ariel, swimming in where sharks feared to paddle.

On the other hand, I could always return to the other plan—calling up the waves to more forcibly rescue Father….

She held her breath at the main gate, but none of the guards looked at her twice.

None of the guards.

She looked around, suddenly realizing what should have been obvious if she hadn’t been so nervous: there were many, many more guards than when she had last been there. Here, in the castle, not at the beach where they once were. And not just guards, either; there were real soldiers patrolling the halls. Men and boys in keen military dress, shined boots, shined buttons, sabers hanging from their sides and caps cockily perched on their heads.