The Mermaids Madness

place. Trying to ignore the pain in her head, she carried the cup toward the altar.
    “Well done,” said Morveren. “You see? A delicate touch is all a true witch requires. You can—”
    “Are you sure Gustan won’t be able to escape?” Snow said. “If he finds Beatrice’s body, he could try to take it for himself.”
    “Even if he does find a flaw in the soul cup, he won’t be able to take your queen. If bonding soul to flesh were so simple, I would have claimed one for myself years ago. More likely, his struggles would kill her and destroy what’s left of his spirit.” Morveren sagged against the altar. “Snow, I know you don’t agree with what I’ve done, but you can’t let Lirea die. This isn’t her fault.”
    “No. It’s yours,” said Talia.
    Morveren ignored her. “Separating Lirea from the knife will have weakened her. Together we can use her connection to the knife to control her, to stop her from attacking your people. Please keep her alive until I can find a way to complete her bond with Gustan.” She cried as she spoke. Magic and urgency filled her words, though the wards of the church protected Snow from the power of her voice.
    “I’m sorry,” Snow said.
    “Lirea is innocent.” Morveren turned to Lannadae.
    “Help me, child. This is your last chance to save your sister.”
    Lannadae had spent the past hours with Father Isaac, talking in low voices so as not to disturb Snow or Morveren. She drew herself higher, balancing on her tails. Tears wet her cheeks. “Your magic destroyed my sister.”
    “You can’t—” Morveren crawled toward Lannadae, only to stumble. Snow could feel her struggling to throw off the effects of Father Isaac’s incense. Morveren raised her head. “It’s not too late, child.”
    Snow brought the cup to the front of the church and set it on the corner of the altar, out of Morveren’s reach. “I’m ready.”
    “I’ll fetch Danielle and the others.” Talia hesitated, then turned to Father Isaac. “Will they be—”
    “Morveren can do no harm while the incense fills the church,” said Isaac.
    Snow pressed her thumb carefully through the gap in the center of the web. When she pulled back, she could feel the web tugging, similar to what she had felt when she experimented with the knife.
    Snow would have tried to use raw power to trap Gustan while Beatrice returned to her body. She might have beaten him, but what damage would she have done to Bea in the process? Without Morveren’s help, Snow might have destroyed them both. “Talia was right to stop me.”
    “She cares for you,” said Morveren as she tried to find a comfortable position. Too much time out of water had left her hunched, much as she had been when Snow first saw her. Morveren groaned with every movement, but until this moment she had fought to carry herself with some dignity. Now she sagged against the frontmost bench, broken and defeated. Wincing, she rubbed her wounded tail with her hands.
    “Most of the time,” Snow agreed. “Though there are days I’m sure she wants to toss me off the palace walls.”
    Morveren frowned. “You mean you don’t know how she feels about you?”
    Snow’s next quip died on her lips. “What do you mean?”
    “Talia loves you. I noticed before, on the ship. When she came to bring me here, her feelings were unmistakable. Even out of water, I can smell her feelings. I assumed you knew.”
    “That’s not—She’s my friend.” Snow set the cup down to keep from dropping it. She thought about Talia’s discomfort when they were swimming together to Lirea’s palace. Or how annoyed she always got when Snow flirted with men.
    Not annoyed, but jealous.
    Snow bit her lip, remembering how strangely Talia acted when Snow first recovered from Lirea’s attack. Talia had looked almost frightened, a childlike vulnerability Snow had never seen from her.
    “You don’t care for her?” Morveren asked.
    “It’s not that simple,” said Snow. “She’s not . . . I don’t—”
    “Humans.” Morveren snorted and rested her head against the bench. “I forget how you complicate these matters.”
    Morveren was right. Snow would have seen it long ago had it been anyone but Talia. One hand went to her shoulder, remembering the way Talia had massaged her to sleep. How long had she felt this way? As far as Snow could recall, Talia had never shown romantic interest in anyone, male or female. Given her history, Snow could understand Talia’s reluctance,