The Mermaid and the Heiress (A Retelling of The Little Mermaid)

4

The dark deep was dark...deep...and deserted. A ghost world that seemed endless.

I sensed movement at the corners of my eyes, but I wasn't able to spot anything directly. Then they showed themselves: a visibly scarred, hardened group of merkind. For a moment I slowed, thinking Velde might be among them. But as their eyes stalked my descent, I sped up again.

Their hair-singeing glares followed me to the inky mouth of a cave.

A face extended through it.

"Welcome, princessss."

A pleasant face...with a horrible, hissing voice. It moved backwards as the witchsea retreated into her cave.

"Come in, come innn..."

Power thrilled around her—around us as I obeyed, proceeding into the blackness.

The ink snaked between us, masking everything, even my own body. In places where it thinned, I was given glimpses of shells, of sea weed hanging overhead, of floating sea glass and sand. Once or twice I identified frightened, bulging eyes.

"What are they?" I asked. The cave might have been cozy if not for these horrors.

"None that need your sympathy, princess. Congratulations on your surfacing—yes, I heard...it was lovely, lovely." Her disembodied head tilted. "You are no unsuspecting prawn. You are not lost—you've sought me. The quicker you tell me why, the quicker you'll have whatever it is you want."

"May I see the rest of you?" I asked nervously.

"Better if you don't, little mermaid."

I accepted the answer, but I needed more. "I have questions."

"Well, on to them."

"Is it true that you poisoned my sister, Kindra, so that my father would allow you to stay in the capital after you saved her?" It wasn't what I'd intended to ask, but now I had to know. "Did he banish you here because she was—damaged?" Only once had Grandmother claimed this. In most other instances, she blamed humans. My sisters refused to discuss it, and I hated to upset Father.

The witchsea's violet eyes narrowed, flicking to the injured scales on my oyster-less tail. "Unfortunate that Tselda continues to spread filth." The sudden silkiness of her voice, along with Grandmother's name, made me flinch. "And filth is all it is. If you must nose, little princessss—" She was back to hissing, which I hoped meant she'd calmed. "—I chose my solitude. I was drawn here decades ago by the festivities. I am a lover of song, and a good population assures more exchanges—more business. Despite dwindled numbers, despite a capital gone silent, I remain...and the why is simple.

"When your Kindra fell ill, and troops were sent to the ocean's ends in search of one who could save her, I presented myself to the King. I informed him that to anchor his daughter in life when she was half in death would mean she would not only be 'here' but also there. He accepted the cost. I have been your father's willing prisoner ever since. For precaution's sake, not punishment. Kingsea may not appreciate the reminder, but he will be no less honest—do ask him, instead of that old mer.

"Now, a bit of advice? Never enter another's home with lies, lest your tongue become despised."

"I'm sorry," I said, wincing. "I meant to confirm they were lies, for my own peace of mind, not offend you—but I'm very sorry if I did."

Her look of displeasure smoothed only slightly. "Well, on with it."

"Do hu-humans have souls?" I stammered, not so fearless after all.

"All living things have souls. But they do...vary. Some are purer than others. Precious few are wholly unstained."

I could've floated away in relief, but my growing anticipation kept me centered.

"Is that what you want?" the witchsea said, with the faintest curiosity. "To be human?"

I nodded excitedly. "To walk, and fly—"

"Fly? Show me."

A sharp-fingered hand belonging to a skeletal gray arm stretched to mine. I barely felt the sting. As though in air rather than water, the speck of blood plunged straight down, transforming the ink with vivid colors. Images formed and began to circle us in rapid succession. I caught flashes of the ship, and Brook...

"Ah," the witchsea said. I frowned at her knowing smile. "Pretty thing."

"She would be, she's a princess."

"Oh, is she?"

"You're laughing at me."

"I dare not chase you away."

The blackness returned as the images faded.

The witchsea's smile faded with them. "Their creation is as ceaseless as their destruction. I understand now—you'll walk first, fly later." It took all my effort not to twirl like a child. She continued, sighing, "I would advise against this path...however, I am willing, and I have just such a potion. It will give you legs, for no more than a month. In exchange, you will give me your voice for the duration."

Even as I palmed my throat protectively, I nodded.

"Are you certain?" she asked.

"Speech hasn't ever helped me."

"Ah, but it is more than speech, my princess. Singing, screaming, communicating..."

"Not my strengths either. I'm certain." That didn't mean I wanted to think too hard about it. "What if I decide I want to be human...permanently?"

She hesitated. "A permanent result requires a permanent sacrifice...unless..."

"Unless?" I inched closer, eager for an alternative.

"There is a way to avoid the sacrifice—through a purer magic, which cannot be replicated or controlled, a magic that can last forever. If you are unable to earn this magic from a human before the potion leaves you, you will revert into a mermaid, and never again walk on land."

"What magic must I earn?"

"Love."

Stunned, I repeated, "Love?"

"No longer so sure?"

I muttered under my breath.

"I sense a voice might in fact hurt your chances..."

I glared.

"We set the conditions now and you must choose. Your first option is to simply decide by the potion's wearing-off point to either give up your voice or your legs. Your second is to earn a human's love by that same point or revert back into a mermaid—with this option, your voice will be returned to you, whether you fail or succeed."

I floated in thought. An hour could've passed, or just a blink.

Giving her a nod, I pressed, "You'll have my voice?"

"I will. Temporarily, if you decide. It will be nice, I think, to sing without the need for rage..."

"Vow you won't use it against my family."

"Clever girl. I've no need, but I vow it."

I paused as something occurred to me. "Are you...concerned at all? About my father?"

Her thin lips curled. "Your father is well aware that I do not deny exchanges—it was a condition of my stay. And while the mere ghost of his temper is enough to suppress most, the shadow of my power could obscure the sun. The Kingsea is greatest, but the witchsea fears none. What will it be, little mermaid?"

"Love," I said. "And yes—I'm certain. If I'm meant to, I'll find it."

The witchsea's claw-like hands pushed forward, one a fist, the other grasping a blade. Would she cut my tongue out? I braced, but then her fist opened, revealing a clam that she then halved. It was empty. One half floated into my waiting hand.

"It will fill when you break the surface. Drink the potion immediately—every drop. Submit to the change...let it come. Luck to you, princess. You will need it."