The Mermaids Madness

dreams of screaming undine had jolted her awake. “I waited for you to come to bed.”
    Armand didn’t answer, but he squeezed her hand more tightly. “Do you think your friends will be able to help my mother?”
    Danielle glanced at Snow and Talia, both of whom sat in silence. Snow had already tried to use her magic to locate Lirea and the undine, just as she had tried to counter the magic that had torn the queen’s spirit from her body. Both times she had failed. Danielle had no doubt that Snow would disappear the instant they reached the palace, barricading herself away with her magic mirror. “They love her. We all do.”
    “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said. “Lirea has already threatened to kill you. I don’t—” He looked away. “Just promise me.”
    As they longboat neared the docks, the king jumped into the waist-deep water and waded toward them. The sailors stowed their oars. One tossed a rope to the men on the docks.
    King Theodore caught the front of the boat, guiding it alongside the dock. His gaze never left the queen.
    “I promise,” Danielle whispered.

    Padded benches lined the inside of the carriage. The queen lay on the longest, opposite the door. She was stretched out as if asleep, her head resting on the king’s lap. The king’s breath caught with each jolt as the carriage made its way up the road toward home.
    There were few words during the trip, and those were spoken in whispers. Theodore had ordered the coastal towns to be on the lookout for the undine. He had sent word to Hilad and Lyskar as well, though he hadn’t yet heard back.
    Armand took Danielle’s hand, and then they traveled a while in silence. They were coming up on the city wall when Armand said, “I tried to stop Lirea. I was . . . I couldn’t reach her. I’m sorry, Father.”
    The pain in his voice knotted Danielle’s chest. Like Talia, riding behind in a second carriage, Armand still blamed himself. “The undine are too strong. Lirea could have killed you. Beatrice wanted you safe.”
    “As do I,” said Theodore.
    Armand shook his head, but he said nothing further. When they reached the palace, they found Father Isaac waiting just inside the gate. With him stood the king’s healer, a silver-haired old man named Tymalous. Tymalous didn’t even wait for the carriage to stop before climbing inside to check Beatrice’s bandages. He muttered to himself, then pronounced her safe to move. With the king’s help, they carried the queen to a small cart.
    “Bring her to the chapel,” said Father Isaac.
    Danielle started to follow, but an angry wail demanded her attention. “Jakob!”
    Nicolette, Jakob’s wet nurse, hurried across the courtyard. Danielle’s son kicked and squirmed in her arms. Nicolette’s eyes were shadowed, and the shoulders of her dress were stained with tears and snot.
    As always, the sight of Nicolette was bittersweet. The same magic that sped Jakob’s growth in the womb had left Danielle’s body unprepared for motherhood, and she had never been able to nurse her own son. Nicolette was a marvelous nurse and a loving mother to her own children as well as the prince, but seeing her with Jakob always made Danielle feel as though she had somehow failed her son.
    Danielle pushed such thoughts aside as she lifted Jakob from Nicolette’s arms and rocked him, whispering and bouncing him in her arms. She smoothed his sweaty blond hair back with one hand and kissed his forehead. His cheeks were speckled red from the force of his crying. His voice was painfully hoarse, rasping and pitiful. She held her son tight, and for a moment nothing else mattered. “I have you,” she whispered. “You’re all right. Mama’s back.”
    Armand reached out to wipe tears from Jakob’s chubby cheeks. “Has he been this charming the entire time we were gone?”
    “He started crying yesterday afternoon,” Nicolette said, her voice raspy. “Hasn’t calmed since. Hardly slept two winks the whole night.”
    “Yesterday afternoon?” Danielle repeated. That was when Lirea had attacked the ship.
    “He’s been fed, changed, rocked, and nothing soothes him.” Knowing Nicolette’s devotion to little Jakob, she had probably stayed with him all night. “I even sang him that song he likes, the one about the octopus’ shoes. Sang until I could hardly croak another note, but he wasn’t having it.”
    Jakob nuzzled his face into Danielle’s shoulder, and a hiccup interrupted his cries.
    “Is it