The Mermaids Madness

stained, the pages swollen from moisture.
    “Beatrice gave them to her,” Snow said. “I did my best to protect the pages, but . . .” She shook her head, her disapproval obvious. “I’ve already had to repair the bindings on two of the books.”
    The air smelled of seaweed and old fish. Bones and cracked shells littered the rock to Danielle’s right, along with a tarnished knife. A stone flute lay tucked against the edge of the cavern. A pair of open barrels had been crammed into a nook near the back.
    Talia climbed out of the water and picked up the knife. “This came from the palace kitchen.”
    “Beatrice brought a number of supplies when Lannadae awoke last month,” Snow explained.
    “How did they bring those barrels in?” Danielle asked. “Beatrice couldn’t have hauled those down the seagate stairs by herself.”
    “There’s a tunnel below the water, at the very bottom of the staircase.” Snow pointed back toward the narrow cave. “It’s only visible at low tide. Beatrice and I—”
    “How much longer is she going to hide?” Talia asked.
    Snow waded toward Lannadae. “You’re safe, Lannadae. Lirea doesn’t know where you are, and my friends aren’t going to hurt you.” She jumped back as Lannadae’s tails thrashed beneath the water.
    “Fine. We can do this the hard way.” Snow dragged her fingers along the surface of the water. Fog spread over the ripples, and a crackling sound filled the cavern. Ice spread outward, moving toward Lannadae.
    Lannadae thrashed again, then swam to one side, nearly colliding with Danielle as she burst from the water. “I told you I don’t like the cold!”
    “Beatrice needs your help now,” Snow said. “The ice was fastest. Or would you prefer I let the princess here call a sea snake to chase you out of the water?”
    Lannadae yelped and turned to stare at Danielle. Her eyes grew inhumanly wide. “Princess? You’re her , aren’t you? Princess Cinderella?” She ducked beneath the pool, swimming so close that her hair tickled Danielle’s feet. Lannadae arose moments later, whipping her head back so that water sprayed from her hair. “You’re not wearing your glass slippers!”
    Danielle fought a smile. “They’re not very practical for stairs and caves.”
    “Beatrice told me your story. I’ve been practicing until I can tell it almost as well as she does. I could tell it to you, if you wanted.” She ducked her head, suddenly shy.
    “That would be lovely,” Danielle said. “But first, we have to—”
    “Cinderella and Snow White both. How exciting!” Lannadae spun around to stare at Talia. “So who are you?”
    “Nobody,” Talia said before anyone else could answer.
    “Oh.” Lannadae sounded disappointed. She turned back to Danielle. “Can you explain something to me? You attended the ball in a magic gown and slippers, but that magic ended at midnight. If the gown vanished, why didn’t the slippers disappear too?”
    “Actually, I’ve wondered that too,” said Snow, cocking her head at Danielle.
    “The gown didn’t vanish.” Danielle closed her eyes, remembering how hard it had been to tear herself away from Armand each night before midnight. “But my stepsisters and stepmother stayed at the ball each night until the stroke of twelve. I had to flee before they left. I returned to my mother’s tree each night to hide my things, changing back into a filthy serving girl so nobody would suspect me.”
    Talia cleared her throat, and Danielle sighed, remembering the days when the worst she had to fear was a beating from her stepmother. She knelt in the water, lowering herself to Lannadae’s height. “Your sister attacked Beatrice with a magical knife.”
    Lannadae drifted back. She sank deeper until her mouth was level with the surface. Snow tapped the ice in warning, but Lannadae didn’t try to hide. Water flowed over her lower lip, causing her voice to warble. “An abalone blade, the hilt bound in hair?”
    “You know it?” asked Talia.
    Lannadae moaned. The sound sent ripples over the water, and Danielle backed away. The mermaid’s voice grew louder, a song of despair that resonated through Danielle’s bones, stirring feelings she hadn’t felt in months.
    For weeks after Jakob’s birth, nightmares had torn Danielle from her slumber. Dreams of Jakob left unattended on the northern wall of the palace, giggling as he looked down at the ocean far below. Her own screams as she tried to run to him, but her feet