Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)(54)
“Oh, boy,” Eric said with a grimace. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
If a person had been watching, she wouldn’t have seen the obvious transformation of a human to a mermaid. She wouldn’t have been able to believe her eyes, or explain what had happened so quickly in the dusky half light of early evening. It could have been a trick of the light, a curious seal, a strangely shaped piece of driftwood; anything but what it actually was.
Ariel did a couple of rolls and then floated on her back, looking up at the mixed sky of clouds and stars. Everything was quiet. She felt her hair loosen from its braids, yearning to float free in the water as it once did. She took the comb out, and it was a trident once again in her hand—but the braids remained firmly wound.
Half in and half out, she thought, then rolled and submerged herself into the depths. It was slightly slower going this time, what with the burlap sack of apples she dragged along.
Flounder appeared surprisingly quickly; he must have had every undersea eye and electroreceptor keeping watch for her.
“Ariel! You’re back! Do you have him? Is that him—uh, in the sack?”
“No, I failed. Those are apples. But I am back, for a little while.”
Flounder bumped his head against her hand—a safe gesture because no one was around. He didn’t need the world to see that he still enjoyed being petted.
But he wasn’t young anymore, and didn’t miss the meaning below her words.
“You’re going back with the full moon, aren’t you? When the trident is back at its peak power?” he asked, full of disappointment.
“Flounder, I didn’t find him. I need to go back,” she said gently. “But I have a clear path now.”
“Clear path?” he said with a snort. “I can’t wait to hear you say that to Sebastian.”
Ariel smiled. Flounder was one of the very few people who could use that tone with her. He was dead right. Now that she could speak again, she was already using words like a trickster. Clear path. What did that even mean? She had allies, she had a goal. That was all. It wasn’t like a parrotfish had just chomped through a snarled lump of dead coral, revealing a beautiful cave of treasure beyond.
She needed a plan, a direction, in case Eric failed.
She ran a hand along the base of Flounder’s dorsal fin. “Nothing is easy. I can’t go back to the castle at all now, although Eric is looking, for me. And I assume Ursula knows I’m back, and has hidden my father someplace better.”
“All those things sound like the exact opposite of easy.”
“I know. Also, why is she keeping my father around at all? You’d think she’d at least want to use him as leverage for bargaining….Like, she would give him to me in return for our never bothering her and Tirulia again.”
“Would you take that trade?” Flounder asked curiously. “And abandon Eric?”
“Well…I think I’ve learned the hard way that there is no fair bargaining with a sea witch. Also, I wouldn’t just be abandoning Eric. I’d be leaving his kingdom to a terrible fate as well. Our worlds should never have collided, and the people of Tirulia are dealing with the results of…”—a rash decision by a lovesick mermaid—“choices I myself made years ago.”
“Fine, but,” her friend said with wry smile, “you still have to come down and check in with His Crustaceanness. And explain all of this to him, too.”
“Fine. Race you?” she asked, darting ahead.
“Hey, wait, no fair!” Flounder squealed, shaking his tail as fast as he could.
“OH, ARIEL, THANK THE THOUSAND SEAS OF THE WORLD YOU ARE BACK. IT HAS BEEN A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE OF BUREARCRACY SINCE YOU LEFT!”
Ariel, Sebastian, and Flounder were alone in the deserted throne room. Ariel had her audience very much to herself.
She opened her mouth.
“YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE THINGS I HAVE HAD TO BEAR.” Sebastian clacked a claw against his foreshell dramatically, turning away from her. His eight walking feet clicked tinnily on the armrest of the throne.
Ariel took a breath and opened her mouth again.
“The constant fighting,” Sebastian continued, “the interminable discussion of rituals. Taxes. The stupid sharks and their stupid sea-grabs. Distributing parts for the Sevarene Rites. And no one knows where the Horn of the Hyperboreans went!”
The little crab collapsed in a heap, more like a molt than a living creature, burying his eyes under his claws.
Ariel and Flounder exchanged an exasperated look.
“Not a moment for me. Not a moment for my music. Not a moment to compose, or prepare a chorus for the Rites,” Sebastian continued feebly. He poked his eyes piteously up through the crack in his claw. “What is a musician to do?”
“Maybe stop whining and be grateful for a chance to serve his kingdom,” Ariel suggested dryly.
Sebastian’s eyes twitched in a crab version of blinking.
“ARIEL! You can TALK!”
Using quick scooting motions, Sebastian swam sideways to plant himself on her chest, pressing his face against her skin. A crab hug.
“Oh, my dear, dear girl. I am so happy for you. I want to shed!”
“Ugh. Please don’t,” Flounder said.
Ariel picked the little crab off her and held him, cupped in her hands, before her face.