Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)(84)

“WHAT?”

With two quick lashes of her tail, the auburn-haired older mermaid was over by Ariel, eyes wide.

“Eric. I kissed Eric. We kissed. Eric and I kissed each other.”

“When? How? What? Why? I mean, what took so long?” she added, trying to sound casual.

“Didn’t seem appropriate before,” Ariel said, shrugging. “There were too many other things to talk about, to plan….”

“You are so weird!” Attina practically shrieked. “And so is he. Who ever heard of a human waiting to kiss a mer? He must be weird, too. What was it like?”

“Not the stuff of a teen’s fantasy,” Ariel said with a rueful smile. “But it was genuine, and it was…nice.”

“Well. The sea be praised,” Attina muttered. “Something is moving ahead. What’s going on with our father?”

“I’m working on that. I think we’re going to have to get the Tirulians—uh, humans—to take care of Ursula for us. It’s tricky. Maybe you can help—come up with an idea, like you did with the Celebrations?”

“Sure. Just tell the humans she tastes like candy,” Attina said dryly. “Or that a mouthful of her flesh can cure their diseases.”

“Thanks. I’ll give your suggestion the thoughtful consideration it’s due.”

“Any time, little sister.”

Sebastian scuttled on the floor toward them, seeming very pleased with himself. Threll swam above, looking likewise.

“Don’t talk about this!” Ariel whispered.

“Talk about what?” Attina asked innocently.

Ariel made a desperate hush motion with her finger to her lips, minutely tipping her chin at her friends.

“What are you doing? I don’t think I learned that sign…” Attina said, looking very puzzled.

Ariel glowered at her.

“Oh! But wait, don’t you think your friends should know as well?” her sister pressed.

“Know what?” Sebastian asked curiously when he reached them.

Ariel floated upright off her stool, fists clenched at her sides, wishing she could pummel her sister like in the old days.

“Oh, that this whole thing with the Equinocturnal Celebrations and the Rites of Proserpine is over. She figured it out,” Attina said with a sweet smile, batting her lashes at the queen.

“But we already know that,” Sebastian said, confused. “You have the sister singing it. What other news is there? Oh…ARE YOU GOING TO SING?” His eyes twitched in the crab equivalent of widening; he tiptoed forward, claws delicately tapping each other’s tips, as if afraid to scare away the idea.

Attina guffawed silently and swam off.

Ariel looked at the little crab and felt bad. She had felt bad ever since the stern talking-to she had given him about how she would never, ever sing while she was queen. She hadn’t changed her mind about that. But how could she make it up to him?

She thought about the other musician in her life, Eric. In his own way he loved an audience as much as the little crab did; he relished the goodwill of the townspeople and was very much looking forward to the encore of La Sirenetta, performed for all who had missed it the first time. Composing was one thing, but both of them felt the most fulfilled when they could directly gauge the reactions of their listeners.

That’s an idea….

“Sebastian, I was serious. I will never sing for an audience while I am queen. However, that being said,” she continued quickly as the crab looked like he was about to explode, “two things. One, I want you to devote a portion of your spare time to writing me an aria—a really amazing aria—that I will sing, triumphantly, when my father is returned as king and I can go back to being a mostly private citizen. It should be a celebration of his return. This has to be epic, Sebastian. Things like the capture and return of the King of the Sea do not happen but maybe once in a thousand years.”

Sebastian was torn, she could tell. His little black crabby eyes twitched desperately. Everything about this idea appealed to every part of him, from the artist given a truly special challenge all the way to the egomaniac whose work would be performed and remembered forever.

But it still wasn’t the same thing as having her sing now.

He was trying very, very hard not to say that. She could see it in the way his antennules clicked silently against each other.

“And for the Equinocturnal Celebrations, I plan to give a speech to all the participants about my promise not to sing until Father is returned, and what we are doing to facilitate his return.” Did I just say “facilitate his return”? Next I’m going to start saying things like “leveraging the synergy…” “And then I will talk about the Return Aria and turn the floor over to you, so you may talk about your composition and your vision.”

“That sounds highly acceptable,” Threll said with an eyecrest raised at Ariel—the closest thing he had to a wink.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, young lady,” Sebastian growled. But then his voice got dreamy. “Still…I can just see it now…‘The Return’! Everyone is seated in the Grand Amphitheatre…No! We will do something unique! We’ll build an all new amphitheatre!”

“Uh, Sebastian, I didn’t say anything about approving funds for—”