The Mermaids Madness

These are guards, protecting the nesting sites. If you turn out to be a threat, they’ll sing for help and sink you from below.”
    “Fortunately, we’re going to stop them before they realize how big a threat we are,” Snow said. Hephyra didn’t look reassured.
    Snow moved to the side of the deck. The water was so dark that she could barely see where the ocean ended and the sky began. The only exception was a broad stripe of white moonlight painted along the waves. A faint shadow along the horizon might have been land, or it might have been a trick of the eye.
    “Will they be able to hear you down below?”
    Snow jumped, then turned to Talia. “You know how much I hate it when you sneak up on me.”
    “So maybe you should pay more attention.” Talia leaned out over the rail. “Hephyra knew I was here.”
    “That doesn’t count,” said Snow. “Hephyra is the ship. If you stepped on me, I’d know you were here too.”
    “I’ll remember that next time.”
    “There,” said Morveren, pointing to a lone undine. He bobbed in the water like a buoy. “If anything happens to him, one of his friends will sing a warning to the tribe while the other attacks from below.”
    Snow rubbed her hands together. Before the undine scout could speak, she leaned out to shout, “There you are! I was beginning to think Lirea had forgotten us.”
    The undine swam closer, coming into the light of the lanterns burning on the ship. His hair was like matted white wool, and his face was almost as wrinkled as Morveren’s. He wouldn’t have been Snow’s first choice for a guard.
    “Who are you?” he demanded.
    “What do you mean, who am I?” Snow slapped her palms against the rail. “I am a friend of Lirea. She wished to speak to me alone, regarding her grandmother. Where is she?”
    “Lirea is no friend of humans,” said the merman.
    “Captain Varisto told us otherwise.” Snow stretched out her senses as Morveren had taught her. One hand moved toward her choker.
    “Stop that,” Morveren hissed, keeping her body low. “You don’t need it.”
    Snow made a rude gesture, but she lowered her hand. Her eyelids fluttered. She could sense the one at the surface, but where were the other two? Lulling this one’s suspicions would do nothing if the others realized what was happening.
    “Varisto is a special case.” The merman swam closer. “You speak the tongue of Lorindar, not Hilad.”
    Snow concentrated on the undine she could see. Using magic to fool a cat into attacking his own tail was one thing. Fooling a trained warrior was far more difficult. His suspicion was plain, so obvious she could almost touch it. She reached out to do just that, pushing back against his doubts.
    “Bring Lirea to us.” She sang softly, focusing her voice on him alone.
    A second undine surfaced. This one was a girl, little more than a child. She whispered to the elder merman.
    Behind Snow, Morveren began to hum, lending her strength. Morveren’s time on the ship had obviously done her good, and Snow could feel the extra power flowing through her song. She smiled and tried again. “Go now, and tell Lirea we have news of her grandmother. News for her alone.”
    “She never said anything . . . she can’t.” The merman shook his head. “Lirea is needed. If she leaves now—”
    “If she doesn’t, she loses Morveren. Do you know what she will do to you if you cost her that chance?”
    Snow could feel his fear. He knew how desperately Lirea wanted Morveren dead, but still he resisted. “A human wouldn’t understand.”
    “Maybe if you ask nicely?” Talia muttered.
    “No.” The sound of Morveren’s voice made Snow jump.
    “I can do this,” Snow said, concentrating on the merman. “Help me—”
    “Can’t you smell it? The tribe is spawning. They won’t allow Lirea to leave. They can’t.” Morveren lifted her head, peeking out at the water. “I should have guessed. The stress of war would increase the pressure to breed. All those of mating age will have gathered around Lirea.”
    Snow studied the two undine. An old man and a child. No doubt the third was also of an age unlikely to reproduce this year.
    “The tribe needs her,” said Lannadae, pulling herself up the ladder to the foredeck. “Without the queen’s scent in the water, the females won’t be receptive to the men’s seed.”
    Talia raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little young to know about—”
    “When the mating scent fills the water, every undine