The Mermaids Madness

blown them open.”
    The rain sounded like pebbles bouncing off the shutters. She could hear the water rushing through the copper gutters outside.
    “That storm isn’t natural.” Snow moved past Talia and pressed her fingers against the glass.
    “What do you mean?” asked Talia. “I can’t remember the last time a week passed without a thunderstorm. You need gills to live in this country.”
    “This is different,” said Snow. “It’s angry.”
    Danielle stared at the puddles, fighting the urge to fetch a mop or rags. “Is it some sort of magical attack?”
    “I don’t think so. Even if I’m wrong, the palace should be protected.” Snow wiped her hand on her skirt. “If the storms continue, we could have an interesting time on the Phillipa .”
    Danielle grimaced. “I’ll need an extra strong batch of that tea before we leave.” She walked toward the wardrobe, hoping to grab some dry clothes. “Where is Armand?”
    Snow touched her choker for a moment. “On the north wall.”
    So much for getting dry. Or dinner, for that matter. She hadn’t had much of an appetite earlier in the day, but after hiking back up the seagate path, not to mention the climb from below the palace, her stomach was making its displeasure known to all within earshot.
    Danielle tried not to think about how easily Snow had located her husband. Snow had planted small mirrors throughout the palace. Wall-mounted sconces were mirror-backed, giving her eyes in nearly every room and hallway. Other mirrors had been hidden in the mouths of gargoyles along the rooftops or fitted into mosaics in the ceilings.
    Snow always assured her she would never violate anyone’s privacy without good cause.“Besides,” she had added the first time Danielle asked, “I can’t see anything interesting through that silly canopy on your bed anyway.”
    Danielle had requested thicker curtains that same day.
    “Armand is with the king and some others,” Snow said. “The rain makes it hard to see.”
    Danielle grabbed a cloak and pulled it tight around her body. Like so much of her wardrobe, the cloak had a few too many frills for her taste. Gold thread and lace only covered half of the material, making it one of the less extravagant outfits.
    The lamplighters had just begun to make their way through the hallways, touching flame to the oil lamps mounted in the walls. The flames flickered in the drafty air, and several lamps threatened to die completely.
    By the time Danielle and her companions reached the north wall, the sky had begun to fade to black. Both Armand and the king stood in the rain, along with several guards and a man wearing the burgundy vest and gold seabird pin marking him as admiral of Lorindar’s navy. Behind them stood a second sailor. His face was swollen and bruised, and he shifted about as though he didn’t know what to do with himself.
    Ambassador Trittibar of Fairytown was here as well, human-sized as he usually was when in Lorindar. Wisps of white hair plastered his face where they had escaped from the long braid draped over his shoulder. As always, he dressed in such a way as to make Danielle suspect the fairy folk perceived color very differently from humans. A green shirt clashed with his purple jacket, and Danielle couldn’t even imagine where he had found trousers in that particular shade of rusty orange.
    A white falcon named Karina perched on his shoulder. Splotches of red mottled the bird’s chest. Trittibar scratched the falcon’s neck, and she responded by raising her crest like a tiny crown.
    “Karina confirms it, Your Majesty,” Trittibar was saying. “The storms are strongest along the shore but die quickly the farther you travel from the palace.”
    “Demons fly in those clouds,” said the admiral. Hays, Danielle remembered. She had seen him about the palace on occasion. Hays licked his lips, eyes searching the skies. “I’ve spent forty years of my life on these waters, and I’ve never seen a storm arise so suddenly. The Reginald was barely out of the harbor when the winds hit. Cracked her mainmast before she could take in her sheets.”
    “We were less than an hour out of Lorindar when we saw the storm building,” said the sailor. “We stopped to lash supports to the mainmast. That’s when the undine attacked.”
    “You were on the Branwyn, ” Danielle guessed.
    “James Harland. I’ve been a waister on the Branwyn for two years.”
    Armand raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask how