The Mermaids Madness

last night. I allowed them to leave so that our presence would remain secret until you returned.
    Lannadae is on the silver-sailed ship. Lirea swam to the surface, rising and falling with the waves. She could see nothing through the rain. Coughing water from her lungs, she sealed the gills along her neck and said, “Show me which way they went.”
    “Are you certain? Why would Lannadae—”
    Lirea drew her knife, and Nilliar fell silent. “Take me to them.”
    The human’s ship had made poor time against the wind. Even so, Lirea grew weary long before one of her warriors sighted the ship in the distance. She needed sleep. Fatigue always made the voices worse.
    Lirea took her spear from Nilliar and dove, thrusting the spear forward. Her warriors drew their own weapons and followed.
    Exertion warmed her body as she raced through the water. The currents were more favorable here, giving them extra speed. They would reach the ship with ease, and this time there would be no mistakes. She could almost taste the salt-metal tang of blood in the water.
    Lirea slowed as imagination and reality blurred. The taste of blood was real, if faint. Or was this another illusion?
    Shark! Nilliar’s warning was low and calm. The undine responded instantly, swimming into a half-sphere formation around Lirea, protecting her from attack.
    Lirea could see the shadow swimming toward them, but she wasn’t worried. A lone undine might fall prey to a shark, but an armed group had little to fear.
    There’s another!
    Moments later, Lirea spotted a third. The sharks swam together, their formation almost as tight as that of the undine. Her people could face three sharks, but it would be costly, and the blood would only enrage the sharks further.
    Ready spears, sang Nilliar. Form a ring, and try to herd them toward the center.
    The undine moved with one purpose: to protect their queen. Nilliar swam into the center of the circle, where she twitched her arms to simulate injury and lure the sharks into the trap. But as they waited, the sharks slowed. One turned away, swimming back toward the human ship. A second followed.
    Lirea waited, heart pounding, to see if the third shark would still attack. This one came close enough for Nilliar to swim forward and strike its nose with the butt of her spear. The shark turned back, pausing only to snap at something in the water. It returned to the human ship, where a fourth shark now waited.
    They’re following the humans. Lirea swam after, being careful not to get too close to the sharks. Something floated on the waves nearby. She jabbed it with her spear. A fish head stared at her with empty eyes. They’re tossing fish parts overboard to attract the sharks.
    That wouldn’t cause them to attack us, sang one of her warriors. Or to break away once they decided to attack.
    They say the human princess can speak to the animals, answered Nilliar. They obey her wishes and protect her from harm.
    Lirea spun around, her song angry. When I speak with animals, you look at me as though I’m mad.
    The undine looked away. In a low voice, Nilliar said, You also told us you interrogated a boat earlier today.
    Lirea’s anger faded as quickly as it had come. Nilliar had a point. Lirea swam to the surface and watched the ship sail away. “They have only four sharks. We’ll summon more warriors. We can—”
    “The rest of the tribe will have reached the spawning grounds by now,” Nilliar said quietly.
    Lirea struck her across the face.
    “Your body knows,” Nilliar continued, her tone unchanged. Blood dripped from her nose. “Perhaps you can’t taste it, but the rest of us can.”
    Lirea could have screamed. Without the scent of a royal to fill the water, the undine would be sterile. No matter how loyal they might be, some pressures were impossible to fight. If Lirea didn’t return home soon, those undine of breeding age—easily half of her tribe—might leave to join other tribes, destroying all she had accomplished these past months. “It’s too early.”
    “Spawning has been known to come quickly in times of danger,” Nilliar said. “The pressure to breed is strong. The urge was building even during the migration. You can’t fight it anymore, Lirea.”
    “No . . .” Lirea could hear the knife’s anger, a match for her own. “Then we attack now. The sharks—”
    “Could slaughter half our number, and the blood would draw more sharks to serve their princess.” Nilliar wiped her nose. “Even if