The Mermaids Madness

faint traces of Morveren’s spell lingering like cobwebs over Lannadae. Lannadae was timid by nature. It wouldn’t have taken much to ensure her silence.
    “She intends to unite the undine,” whispered Lannadae. “All those who refuse to follow Lirea will be killed.”
    “How?” asked Danielle.
    “The gold Lirea collects.” Lannadae bowed her head.
    “She means to hire human alchemists to poison their waters.”
    Snow rose. “I know where she’s going.” Morveren’s escape would have weakened her. How much power waited for Morveren back in her wrecked ship? All of those soul jars, still safe after so many years. “We’ll need to take the Phillipa back out to sea.”
    “That’s dangerous,” said Armand. His face shone with sweat as Danielle helped him toward the altar. “The undine have already increased their attacks. They struck Lyskar again last night.”
    “Lirea will kill Morveren if she can,” Lannadae said.
    “She can’t,” Snow said. “Lirea might have fought Morveren’s control before, but now that Morveren has Gustan—”
    “Because of you.” Varisto held his ax with both hands, seemingly lost as he stared into the engravings on the head. “Because your people allowed her to live. Because you brought her here and placed my brother’s soul within her reach. And because once again I failed to save him.”
    “Prince Varisto?” Beatrice’s voice was stronger, though she still held Theodore for support.
    “Your Majesty.” Varisto bowed his head. “Forgive me, but your people should have destroyed that cursed knife.”
    “And let me die?” Bea closed her eyes. “Perhaps.”
    “Damn your stubbornness. Gustan’s as well.” Varisto stomped away. As he left the church, Snow heard him say, “Had he listened to me, he might still be alive.”
    “We know where Morveren’s going,” Snow said. “If we sail straight for Hilad, we can intercept her before she reaches Lirea. The Phillipa —”
    “You saw how fast she flew,” said Talia. “Even the Phillipa isn’t fast enough to catch her air spirits.”
    “She is,” Beatrice said, pressing closer to Theodore. “For me, she will move like the wind itself.”

    Lirea rested her head against the legs of Gustan’s statue, listening with all of her being. The voices had gone quiet, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Every movement ached, as though her body were that of an old woman. Yet this was the closest she had come to peace since before Gustan. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be alone with her own thoughts.
    Her solitude had been short-lived. Already she could feel Morveren trying to pry into her mind, like a turtle burrowing in the sand to lay her eggs. In the past, Morveren’s touch would have roused the voices to such fury her head felt as though it would burst from their screams. Now Lirea simply slid into the water, savoring each moment until she lost herself once again.
    The songs of her tribe drifted through the windows of the tower. Their numbers were greater than anyone could remember. One tribe had already been poisoned. The survivors had come seeking revenge, only to fall under Lirea’s sway.
    Morveren had done something to her scent. From the moment Lirea murdered Gustan, she had grown in power, twisting the loyalty of her tribe from her father to herself. She could unite all undine into a single tribe. Gold coins glittered in the water, tribute from the first nation to give in to her demands. Soon the entire ocean would be hers.
    There was no exhilaration. Lirea wanted only to rest, to sleep.
    But with sleep came dreams. The screech of her knife as the blade scraped bone. The hot blood splashing her hands. The shock on his face. Shock that twisted into hatred.
    She sank lower, allowing the water to wash away the tears. One by one they abandoned her. Nilliar hadn’t returned. Lannadae and Morveren still conspired against her.
    She dragged a hand through coins and sand, stirring tiny vortexes of dirt in the water. Her father had been the first to turn against her. To punish her for giving herself to one of them . He had shouted and struck her, threatening to strip away her title and banish her forever. She could still hear his words, telling her she had shamed her family yet again. Her mother had sat by and said nothing. She wouldn’t dare contradict the emperor.
    Wait . . . Lirea’s mother had died long before she met Gustan. These were Gustan’s memories, not hers. His