Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)(62)

Ursula had seen a number of those in her time.

“Of course, my dear,” Vanessa whispered. “Of course. But we must keep it our little secret for it to work properly. You need my help, I need a little help from you. Meet me at the Grey Lagoon at midnight and we will discuss matters further. Trust me, and all shall be yours. I promise.”

And so that night Ursula struck a bargain with the beautiful, desperate girl: her voice in return for a title for her father, invitations to all the right social events, some wardrobe adjustments, three days to win a noble son, etc., etc. The usual terms. Ursula would have a new voice, a new polyp in her little collection, and she would go on ruling properly, and live happily ever after in her new kingdom by the sea, if not under it.

Only…not quite.

This is what actually happened.

The Grey Lagoon was an artificial folly on the north side of the castle, fed by the tides. Originally it was protected by a cavern wall decorated with shells and fake stalactites in the fashion of Etrulian bathing grottos. Over the years it had fallen out of use and now slowly decayed into that shabby grandeur Bretlandian tourists so liked to sketch. Locals avoided the place because it had become more or less a swamp, overgrown with tall grass, clinging vines, and sharp, scrubby trees. It fairly screamed cholera and malaria. Also haunted.

So it was deserted, this weird landscape feature shielded from the castle by drippy, unhealthy trees, and most importantly: it was fed salt water by the sea.

Ursula arrived at ten to make preparations, and it was a bit of a pain because taking Flotsam and Jetsam along would have rendered the whole undertaking too obvious. That was the worst thing about the Dry World: how hard it was to lug things around. Things fell. Heavy things fell harder. Feet hurt. Sometimes after a day in the stacked-heel booties she wore it felt like knives were impaling her through her soles, like obscene torture out of some fairy tale.

She had to manhandle a smaller-than-she-liked cauldron out to the middle of the shallow water all by herself, along with all the other things necessary for the spell: ingredients and mordants that she managed to keep away from prying eyes.

Getting a little sweaty and trying to keep her tentacles under control—they burst free of their own volition upon touching the salt water—Ursula was ankle-deep in muck and agitated when Julia showed up. The girl was like a picture: her hooded, innocent-yet-arrogant face lit by the small lantern she held before her. She stepped carefully around the bracken, not wanting to snag her precious clothes on the sharp twigs.

“You came,” Ursula said, accidentally in her own voice.

The girl, already nervous, jumped at that.

“I don’t understand what we are doing, My Princess,” she admitted, trying to remain calm.

“My dear, we need to just alter a few things about you,” Vanessa said with a smile. “Not just your clothes and introductions. Fortunately, I know a little magic….”

“Magic? Like the devil?” Julia stepped back, pulling her cloak tighter.

“Not at all,” Vanessa said with a smile. “Like the kind you use to make love philters and predict who you will marry with the blow of a dandelion.”

It probably would have sounded a lot more carefree and girlish in the dumb mermaid’s voice….

Julia looked uncertain.

“Just step forward into the water,” Vanessa urged. “Not all the way, just your feet.”

“Into the water?”

“Yes, dear, like for…a baptism. Nothing more. A blessing of magic.”

Julia looked skeptical.

“And this will turn me into a princess, like you?”

“It will not turn you immediately into a princess, but remember, dear, I didn’t ‘become’ a princess until I married Eric. Everyone just went along with my insistence that I was a princess, to keep up appearances and the family line. I’m going to help you get to that point, too. Now, into the water, dear.”

“And you ask nothing in return?” Julia asked.

Ursula sighed. Clever girl. For a moment she regretted that she had neither time nor inclination to take on an apprentice, or daughter, or whatever you called a young version of what you were. Julia had flexible morals and a quick wit that was lacking in so many of the young mer the witch had often dealt with. It was a shame she had to simply eat her up and use her, rather than take her time….

“Yes, child, there is always a price. But it is not for me, it is for…the universe. You can’t get something without giving something. That would be unnatural, and against the good order of things.”

She almost couldn’t believe how easily this garbage came out of her mouth. Once she had a decent voice again, Vanessa would be unstoppable.

“What do you…I mean, the universe…want?”

“Nothing much, really…”

“My immortal soul?”

“No, no, child!” Ursula didn’t have to pretend too hard to be shocked. She was continually surprised by humans’ single-mindedness when it came to religion. “Nothing so precious. Just your voice.”

“My voice?” Julia touched her throat. Such an obvious gesture, so predictable. Once again Ursula had to work not to roll her eyes.

“Yes. But you get it back once you achieve your wishes, in three days.”

“Is three days how long I have to seduce and marry one of the lords?”