Adrift: A Little Mermaid Retelling

10: Daniel

I was up at dawn to bring water in from the well. This was my morning ritual. We needed water to fill the kettle for tea, the pot for porridge, and the basin for washing, so there was always endless hauling to do. I liked to do all this early, before Sorla came in and began to rattle around her domain.

That's where I was when Margaret took flight; I was drawing up the bucket at the well. I heard the rustling of her silk gown and looked up just in time to see her dash by as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.

"Mistress?" I called, bewildered. I had never seen her lift a finger, let alone run. But she did not stop.

I looked back up to the house, whence she'd come, but saw neither man nor beast running after her in pursuit. I did not have much time to think about how much I feared her. I acted on instinct. I dropped the bucket and started to run after her.

For a woman of wealth and leisure, she surely could set a devilish pace. Some passion or fear had been lit in her that carried her over the cold ground like a fleet stag. Her hair whipped out behind her and her skirts sloshed round her legs like wine in a cup.

After a moment, I realized she was heading straight for the cliffs. Fear gripped me. If she wanted a bit of exercise, it was not a good time to do it. The sky was lightening as the sun crept upward, but it was still dim, and fooling about by the cliffs was a dangerous thing at any time of day.

"Mistress!" I shouted. "Mistress Allore! Please, stop! What's the matter?"

She took no heed. We crossed the road and kept on running. I drew ragged breaths, trying to pick up my pace. What would I do if I caught her? Reach out and grab her arm? Throw myself on her to bring her down?

Surely not. I counted myself lucky to have avoided a whipping thus far in my time as Master Allore's house servant. I did not intend to make up for lost time. Yet I gave chase, running after her without the faintest idea what I'd do when I caught her.

Then, to my horror, I saw a cloud of glimmering fabric rise into the air and fall to the wet grass.

Margaret had thrown off her gown.

How she had gotten it off on her own, at a run, I couldn't guess. She went on in her stays and her chemise. I flagged, losing speed in my astonishment, my mind working to make sense of what she could be doing. Then, realizing she was leaving me farther and farther behind, I started to run again.

I closed only a bit of the distance between us when she dropped her stays. I nearly stumbled over them. The rigid boning caused the stays to stick up when I stepped on one end, but I leapt awkwardly and avoided tripping by a narrow margin. "Mistress—Allore!" I panted. "Please—what is the matter—you forget yourself—"

And then I trod on her chemise, torn nearly in two.

I looked up, seeing the white flash of her slender body in the early morning light as she ran naked toward the sea. I stumbled to a stop, stupefied. It wasn't so much the sight of her, although that was certainly part of it. It was the complete bewilderment of seeing a lady—a lady!—darting about at dawn without a stitch of clothing on.

Then I remembered that she was running straight for the cliffs. She was not slowing down.

"Mistress Allore!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Mistress! The cliff!"

I began to run again, as fast as I had ever run in my life, continuing to cry her name, but she moved as if she did not hear me, pale flesh and golden hair and wild, frightening energy.

Fearing for my own life, I stopped before I reached the black rock at the edge of the land. But Margaret did not even look back. She ran right up to the edge, and then, not even slowing, she launched herself from the cliff like a swan.

Her body was a gleaming arc. She did not fall, she dove. She dove off the high cliffs and into the sea.

Cold with shock, I stared at the space in front of me where, an instant before, the lady had been. A numbing fear washed over me all at once, making my legs shake. I crept forward, edging slowly along rocks that were damp and treacherous in the frigid mist.

I got to my knees and looked over the edge, expecting to see her lying down there, broken on a jagged rock. But there was nothing but the crashing sea.

I had just witnessed the suicide of my mistress, and I had done nothing to stop it.

I fell to all fours and vomited bile into the grass.