Chapter One
Flying, floating—weightless.
Blue-green expanse of dense, dark shadow, yet she feels no pressure, no pain.
The surface breaks, a layer of light and life giving way to blue skies.
She cuts through it like a knife through butter.
Pale skin shining in the sun.
Blue eyes like stars.
Hair like fire.
Tail like…
Tail?
Ariel woke from the dream with a start, her heart still pounding. She blinked once, eyes adjusting to the darkness as she sat up in bed, nervously feeling underneath the duvet. She let out a sigh of relief—they were still there, extending from her hips; two legs, two feet, ten toes.
It had been a year since her marriage to Prince Eric; one year since she'd said her goodbyes to her family, her friends… one year since her scaly, emerald fishtail had split in two. And yet she still had the dreams. Dreams where she was still a mermaid, where she was free to roam her father's Seven Seas as she wished. Dreams so vivid, she woke half-expecting to be submerged in saltwater.
She ran a hand through her tangle of bright red hair, still shaken up. Beside her, Eric mumbled and shifted in his sleep. She slipped out from under the duvet and winced as her feet touched the naked stone. Quickly, she stepped onto the carpet and made her way to the bedchamber's balcony doors.
The breeze fluttered gently across her face as she bared their room to the elements, carrying with it that rich flavour she loved so much. Seaweed and salt, feeding molluscs, rotting fish—a wild, untameable scent, the trademark of a grand place forever suspended between rebirth and decay.
Ariel drank it in deeply.
For the hundredth time that day, she was reminded of how lucky she was that Eric's summer palace was by the sea. She sure as hell hadn't felt lucky that past winter, when they had returned to the central kingdom to meet his parents, King Nolan and Queen Deborah. They had been ten days away from the coast—Ariel had felt so isolated, so out of her element. There had been days when she had feigned illness just so that she could stay in her rooms and fiddle with the collection of conch shells that her father had given her as a wedding present; she would smell them, put them to her ear, press their rough surfaces against her lips, just for a small taste of home. It had seemed like a decade had passed between November and May. They had already been back a month, and still the memories of that horrible, dry experience were refusing to fade.
Ariel's gaze travelled to the horizon—a calm pane of navy glass, sporting glittering reflections of the stars and full moon above. Her mouth quirked into a sad smile. Her family had come to the surface the week before for a quick visit; Ariel had lowered herself from Eric's ship in a rowboat so that she could be closer to them. It was amazing that, even though she was the only one of her sisters yet married, she still felt like the baby. They'd splashed her, mussed up her hair, teased her about Eric. She'd received hug after hug, kiss after kiss, gift after gift. Yet, after six months of not seeing them, being unable to contact them, it hadn't been nearly enough.
Somewhere nearby, a seagull squawked. Ariel's mind instinctively went to Scuttle, whom she hadn't seen since her departure last November. She watched for him, but he—or whatever gull had made the sound—didn't appear. Loneliness flared in her gut, and she felt her heart leap into her throat. Her eyes stung, and she wiped them furiously on the back of her hand. She had chosen this life. She'd known what she was giving up from the moment Ursula had opened her mouth. Eric should be enough for her—after all, he was her prince, her true love. She had sworn to be by his side forever.
She was about to go to bed when a sharp, bright light bloomed somewhere on the horizon—her navy glass rippled and broke, frothing like a mad dog's lips as something fell from the sky and collided with the sea.
Ariel's mouth fell open.
The thing glowed. She could barely make it out, yet even from this distance, it had the look of a shipwreck about it. She thought about calling for Eric—but then the thing sank beneath the surface, illuminating the waters around it for a brief moment before fading from sight entirely.
At first her mind was blank, then her thoughts began firing one at a time, clipped and brief.
What was that?
Where did it come from?
What if Father finds it?
What if it's dangerous?
Will Eric be angry that I didn't say anything?
Was anything… alive on it?
Then she caught sight of a second thing, a smaller, dimmer thing, shooting like an orange star down from the sky and towards the palace's adjacent cove.
What is that?
As it approached, it took on a vague, shadowy shape—a flying rowboat with no oars, propelled by fire, and holding what looked to be a human figure.
Ariel blinked, and the thing was gone. Disappeared into the rocks, no doubt. Or perhaps she'd simply imagined the whole thing. She shut the window with trembling hands and turned away from it reluctantly. She made a mental note to check the cove the next morning; though with each step she took towards the bed, her conviction that what she'd seen had been real wavered a little more. How could it be real? Things didn't just fall from the sky like that—and rowboats couldn't fly.
Says the mermaid, a niggling little voice whispered as she tucked herself back in beside Eric.
He stirred and turned to her, eyes creaking open ever so slightly. "Mm… bad dream, Ariel?" he murmured sleepily.
"No," she said. "I was… thirsty. Go back to sleep."
He nodded and closed his eyes again.
She didn't know why she never told him about the dreams. She hadn't told him about her homesickness, either. Maybe she was embarrassed—embarrassed that her past could never fully leave her, that she couldn't leave the sea even for half a year, that she felt her tail like an amputee's phantom limb.
A part of her reprimanded herself for being ashamed of her heritage. Another part commended her for trying to stow it away. And, as always, she couldn't tell which part was really her.
Thoughts of the crash and the flying rowboat already leaking into her next dream, Ariel drifted off to sleep.