The Mermaids Madness

ahead of the ship exploded in a fountain of white spray. The lead mermaid arched through the air, higher than any of the others had leaped. Perhaps her twin tails gave her greater strength, or maybe the others had simply held back.
    “Lirea,” Beatrice whispered.
    A scream tore from Lirea’s throat, a ragged, furious sound that pierced Danielle’s ears, nearly driving her to her knees. Danielle lurched forward, grabbing Beatrice’s arm and pulling her out of the way as Lirea cleared the railing.
    The mermaid twisted to avoid the lines. She staggered as she landed, ramming the butt of her spear into the deck for balance. Her tails were gone, replaced by feet. Even as Danielle watched, the fins running down the outside of Lirea’s legs flattened against the skin and disappeared. The scales on her feet and ankles sank into her skin, leaving faint trickles of watery blood. The rest of her scales remained, like purple mail protecting her legs and waist.
    Lirea was thinner than the other undine. Her skin clearly outlined her ribs and collarbone. Had she been human, Danielle would have guessed her to be in her late teens. A worn harness crossed between small breasts. A dagger hung on one side of the harness, the handle jutting forward. She wore a necklace of polished oyster shells that appeared far too large for her slender form. A small gold hoop shone in one ear.
    Before Danielle could move, Lirea leveled her spear at the queen. She coughed, spitting seawater onto the deck, then said, “You’re trespassing in our waters.”
    Her voice was hoarse, as if she were recovering from a nasty cold. Danielle started to move between them, but Lirea swung her spear, cutting Danielle’s arm. Blood seeped into her sleeve.
    “You’re looking well, Lirea,” Beatrice said calmly. “Where is your father?”
    Lirea moved closer, driving Beatrice back until she stood against the railing. Lirea glanced at the chest. With a look of disgust, she placed a foot against the chest and shoved. It slid from the forecastle and crashed onto the main deck. “We are undine. We have no need for human fruits. If you wish to travel our ocean in peace, you’ll bring us gold. Gold and my sister.”
    “Your sister?” Beatrice glanced at the main deck, where Armand and the men had already gathered with crossbows and spears.
    “Don’t play games with me,” Lirea said. “I hear everything . I heard you conspiring with Lannadae and my father, just as I hear them planning to attack.” She jabbed her spear into Beatrice’s side, hard enough to make the queen gasp. A small circle of blood darkened Beatrice’s shirt beneath her jacket.
    “It’s nothing,” Beatrice whispered, waving Danielle back.
    Lirea turned to face Armand and the crew. “Take another step and she dies.”
    Armand raised his hand. “Let my mother go, and I will—”
    “I am queen of the Ilowkira tribe,” Lirea shouted. “I will speak to your queen and her alone.”
    “You killed Posannes.” Beatrice ignored the weapon pressed against her ribs. “Just as you killed Levanna.”
    Water dripped down Lirea’s face, making it appear that she was crying. “They betrayed me. Every day, the waves whisper of their treachery.”
    Motion near the rigging caught Danielle’s attention.Talia was climbing one of the lines on the port side. She was already high enough to jump to the forecastle, but even Talia wasn’t fast enough to stop Lirea before she could kill Beatrice. Not without something to distract the undine.
    Danielle knew little of ships, but she had been to the docks often enough to see the rats climbing the ropes and scurrying over barrels and crates, just as she had seen the cats prowling the docks in search of prey. Every vessel was home to far more than the crew.
    All of Danielle’s life, animals had helped her. Doves and rats assisted with her chores, cleaning the fireplace or picking slugs from the gardens. Years later, those same doves had blinded her stepmother and scarred her stepsisters. When her stepsisters kidnapped her, the rats had helped her escape.
    It was then, imprisoned by her stepsisters, that she had learned to speak to the animals without words. She didn’t know how or why they understood her. Perhaps it was another gift from her mother, like the glass slippers and the silver gown she had worn to the ball. All Danielle knew was that they came to her aid.
    Never taking her eyes from Lirea, she called in silence. Help me, my