The party far exceeded any other within the last four years, since the night a singing star had staged an open-invitation wedding. The reporters would have more than enough material to last for weeks, if they played their cards right. Maddie frowned that Lily didn't return, but knew that her feet had been in far worse condition than usual. Putting all of one's heart into something made anything more wonderful than ever before, but was not kind to the strength of the one to do such a thing. Lily had overdone herself, though Maddie thought the dance had been the epitome of recorded performance. They had played the tape for the guests, and it captivated the second time. Only the target of the dance and the woman he had announced as his fiancée were unaffected.
The night went smoothly. The band had drawn its curtain, and now played music of that vein, modern pieces that were recognizable but not pop culture. No one could even come close to matching the departed dancer, but very few tried. The catering staff moved from the appetizers to the desserts when the last of the trays were empty. The drinks were switched to a lower grade of alcohol. No one but the tabloids wanted an extremely drunk set of the richest residents of the upper West Coast in the same room.
Maddie kept one of the desserts aside at the last moment during one of her few trips to give the food a final check. The ballerina, a spun sugar figure wearing a dress made from sugared rose petals, was for Lily, who could use her rest. The rest were not as special, but had initials of the star honoree and a birth date worked into almost every piece. A few were based on fairy tales, a small set that was greeted with a few appreciative looks.
Jesse, as the birthday honoree, chose first from the group. He took a delicate figure of a princess, eating the skirts first without a second glance at the delicate work in marzipan and granules of sugar. Sirene was second. She chose a mermaid, one with a pale pink tail and paler skin. She bit off the head, not noticing the hopeful expression on the sugar mermaid's face. Maddie and Mako exchanged a look that only Candy noticed.
For once, the usually impassive Mako looked troubled over something. He could not explain to Candy, instead remarking what a shame it was that the mermaid hadn't been admired. She readily agreed. Maddie had worked especially long on the tail of the mermaid, which she had given careful detail to resemble scales. Mako had disapproved of the typical heart-shaped tail, instead sketching one that looked like a partially opened paper fan. He claimed the other type of tail would never work on a marine creature, and Maddie believed him. He was a shark expert, but he knew about tails.
Derek Dalton was beaming before the party even ended. His insider among the reporters had whispered during an interview that the reviews would be good. Derek hardly had to worry about the money, but he hated negative publicity about his works. He was about to bring his son into the business, and it wouldn't do for the father's image to be bad. Jesse had planned originally on just coasting with his father's wealth, but Derek had convinced him that the work would be a welcome distraction. His son was a decent actor, even if the only roles he would be good at were the "bad good guy" or the surly son of a famous spy.
Stacy Grey had worried about the dancer's feet. It was not at all natural for that much blood to be present without a cut or abrasion or some sort. The cook, who knew the maid best, had said that it was a chronic condition aggravated by dancing with such intensity. Madeline had only said to the doctor that she didn't know the name of the condition, as she was no scientist. Stacy watched her, suspicious. Such a smart woman would know a thing or two- what was there to hide about the bleeding? Lily was clever enough to know if something was dangerous. That would have to be enough for Stacy, though her doctor's intuition was decidedly restless.
Far from the noise, glamour, and social closeness that was a grand old party, a girl sat silently on her bed, knees drawn to her chest. She leaned against the wall, staring out the window and dreaming. She hummed a tune to herself, a sad song that didn't make her feel any better. She closed her eyes, but didn't sleep. Instead, she listened to the crash of waves as it overlapped with the muted curses of the catering staff in the kitchen and the further party. She opened her eyes to look at the moon's placement, ruining her illusion of some nonsensical arrangement of the noises. There still was time before dawn, if he meant what he had said to her.
Six hours past midnight, Jesse Dalton finally decided to make his announcement. Everyone there knew exactly what he was going to say, but the people outside who would watch happily through programs that let the common folk "connect" with the aloof celebrities. Sirene would appear shocked and blissfully delighted, Derek would look proud but surprised, the crowd would break into carefully choreographed spontaneous cheering as cameras panned to catch famous figures, and everyone would be happy.
He did not even have to move. The cameras adjusted, and the crowd grouped itself so that the couple of the hour could be seen. A few makeup experts from the local stations rushed forward, making sure there would be no flaws in front of cameras. The tuxedo was adjusted, the tie freshly knotted, and a stylist checked his hair against the latest polls of fans. No one did anything to change Sirene's appearance. Besides the fact that she looked perfect already, she seemed dangerous.
Sirene kissed him, more for the cameras than anything else. She was an actress to rival any of his father's latest on-screen interests, and had the looks to match. He was brought back to the events of one day short of a year ago, when someone had given him CPR in an attempt to save him. He had known that Sirene saved his life for the last few months, after he asked her if she had found him that day and she confirmed his guess with a few flirting words.
He was sliding from the surfboard. He felt himself slowly slipping to the right. He would fall off. She was moving so fast. Maybe she meant to kill him, to leave him even farther out in the ocean. He had heard of such people, fans so neurotic they actually desire to kill the object of their attentions. He felt that sinking feeling again, that he would die and could not do a thing.
She centered him on the surfboard, slowing down to do so. "You're doing fine," she said, trying to encourage him. "Almost there. I can see the shore by your house." She held his hand, telling him to grab on if he needed to. He squeezed as tightly as he could, which wasn't much. He needed to make sure that she was still there, that he wasn't imagining a rescue as he lay dead in the water. "We're almost on the beach. Just-"
"Relax," Sirene said in her beautiful voice. "I love you, don't I?" she teased gently, letting him answer, as she always did.
"As much as I love you," he responded, as he always did. The memory had come quickly. He hadn't had flashbacks before. He had heard of such lapses in memory, and knew that such vivid images usually were a sign of post-traumatic stress syndrome. He doubted he would develop such things this late. He was probably just nervous. That was odd. He didn't feel nervous.
He felt hard pressure on his chest, someone shoving hard enough to bruise. "Breathe, damn you!" she hissed. He was mostly unconscious still, leading to one of many half-formed memories that haunted his mind. She forced her lips against his again. They were salty, as if the taste never left, and soft enough that the muscles in them were a surprise. She pressed fingers to his neck for an instant, a flutter as she tried to find a pulse. "Jesse, why won't you hang on for just-"
"One more moment," Sirene said to a reporter, kissing her fiancée yet again. This time, he remembered something far more important.
He had started to breathe, but that talent was lost again. He was dangerously close to blacking out permanently, and could still hear Aisling screaming his name. His rescuer had come back for a moment, because she knew as well as he did that he was running out of air. She had tried cursing and pressing, forced breaths and insulting everything possible about him in an attempt to get him to retort. "Don't die on me," she said, sounding truly worried. She could have been his best friend, not some girl from the sea he had never laid eyes on. "Come on. Just try to breathe. In. Out. In. Out."
He did try. The air escaped him in sharp gasps, and he couldn't pull it through his lungs. She kissed him then, on the forehead. "Start breathing and I'll give you a proper kiss," she said, desperate for some new strategy. He managed just at that moment, by chance or objective he still couldn't tell. "Stayere." It wasn't very articulate, but she understood. "I'll be back for you, Jesse. Your step-mother is here." And then she was gone, leaving him to unconsciousness and considering a promise she had made to save his life. "I'll be back. I have a kiss for-"
"You are taking a while to tell them, Jesse," Sirene whispered in his ear.
"Let them wait. You never mentioned your promise to me, Sirene. Why?" She had never given too many details, calling the entire experience traumatic for both of them.
"Is this the time for that?" she asked, glancing at the diamond ring he held in his hand. He had given it to her before, but this was the time to formally present such a gift.
"Yes." He heard something he never before had noticed in her voice. Sirene's words had a hissing undertone. Her voice was not the same as the clear voice on the beach. He had guessed it to be so, but never had heard such clear flashbacks. "It is the time for that, because you aren't who you say you are." Sirene had not saved his life.
"My son has an announcement to make," Derek announced, not knowing the topic the two were discussing. "Jesse?"
"I wouldn't marry her if she was the last murderous spawn of a viper on earth," he said calmly to the cameras, ignoring shocked looks as well as cold approval from Candy, Maddie, and Mako. "If you'll excuse me, the sun's about to rise." He left with dignity, the reason that Candy, Maddie, and Mako were still so cold to him. He should have run to her. She had waited long enough, and the entire unlikely trio knew it.
Candy glared, stopping only when Mako touched her hand gently. He always was so careful, so hesitant about contact. She had only asked him about the subject once, and his discomfort had been enough that she had never again felt the urge to ask. He understood how she felt. He knew something more about Lille Havfrue, though he never said a word, and his fully black eyes showed nothing.
Madeline pursed her lips and left the ballroom with considerably less pomp. She went directly to his room. Rooting through his closet, she found what she had given to him months ago. It had been rudely shoved under a few very boring treatises on marine life that described dolphins as fish, which meant they were old enough to be useless except for interesting illustrations. She did find the book she wanted, and set it on his pillow. If he didn't read it now, she would read it to him. He had to know what had happened for the year, what he had missed. She would make sure of it.
The sun was rising. Lille had left her room, barefoot and carrying only a pen that glinted like cold emeralds. She paid no attention to a pale trail of blood that followed her. The floors were not her responsibility. Maddie could find someone else, and Derek could just be happy with the short time the roses had been tended, unless he found another person to love them. Jesse could just marry Sirene, for all she cared.
She stood in reach of the surf. Her footprints that made a dotted line across the beach were already fading into the nondescript pattern and sand, and there was no other trace. She would be gone, with only a note, bloody ballet slippers, and the sickly markings of dried blood left behind as mementos. The blood could be cleaned away, and the note shredded, but she hoped the slippers were at least given a proper grave look before being thrown away. She had loved those shoes, as much as she could ever care for a pair of inanimate objects. They had made her feel like she could dance better than ever before, with such footwear to exhibit.
Lille spun the pen around her fingers, faster and faster. It was a green blur, with only a twinkle of silver to mark the writing end of the pen. She could see what it truly was. It would be something else when she had that decision to make. She planned to not be tempted at all. She did think that she would do the right thing, but some people were annoying and selfish enough to make the choice difficult.
She remembered the first time he had really spoken to her. Their first meeting had not been of any real importance. He was too shocked to really say anything, or look at her in any special way that seemed to be popular in romantic accounts of life. What he had said around Maddie did not count. His first true words to her she never could have predicted, not in a thousand years, not with ten thousand guesses.
"Listen, Lille, if that's even your real name. I don't want you anywhere near me. Do you understand that, mutie?"
That was far from a good first impression. She would like to have ignored it completely, but life was too cruel to those who tried to forget all the bad things. Her family was a prime example of that. She was the last of them, a girl who still had believed in magic and true love and the inevitability of reciprocation. It would seem that it was not to be.
Lille liked to think that the morning on the beach had been the first time that they truly had met. She had seen a different side of him. He isn't always an arrogant jerk, she reflected. There were flashes of a good person that made his usual personality even harder to accept. He could be a decent sort of person, if he ever felt the inclination. She could think of a million things she could say, but not one that she would.
The highest rim of the sun protruded over the horizon. Dawn was coming, faster than she had guessed. It was a beautiful sunrise. Lille knew that it would be the last she would watch for years. Even a gray and overcast day where fog obscured the sun would be gorgeous. She would find some compliment for a day when it didn't rise at all. For that morning, all she could say was that the world's finest artists, with unlimited watercolors and canvas and time, could never make such a masterpiece.
"Lily!"
She ignored the voice. She could distinguish his voice among any crowd, but the sunrise was nearly complete. She would be a story to whisper of to children, not a real person who got away. Derek would age, then die and forget. Candy would learn the truth from Mako, if Maddie didn't tell her first. But Jesse would not. Maddie could give hints, but Lille knew that he would have to ask. No one would give away her secret.
"Lille, I'm not marrying Sirene!" The source of the voice had moved closer, and she could hear the telltale squeak of someone running across sand. There was an urgency to the words that he could not begin to explain.
She did not turn around, but instead stared at the sun, willing it to move faster. She would not be tempted to save herself. That was not how this was supposed to go. She would be free, but not all who had come before and after her. This was destiny, how it was meant to be. Everything was as clear as the shallow waves that lapped closer and closer to her feet, gentle but strong.
"Lille." He was directly behind her, breathless and confused. Why wouldn't she look at him? He felt the ego that was always at the corner of his mind, some vision in the edge of his sight, rise angrily. She should look at him. He shouldn't be the one to do the work in the relationship. What could she possibly have to hold herself as better than him?
She knew that she still had a minute before the sun cleared the water. The pen was in her hand, and she kept it firmly by her side. She stared at him, unflinching, meeting his gaze without a single trace of shyness. He could remember her. Her last impression would be that she was strong, unwilling to wait, and resolute. She could not always be the quiet nice girl. She had to stand up for herself.
He didn't know what to say to Lily. She was alien to him suddenly. Had she always had that spark of boldness? He realized that he couldn't remember. He met her eyes, but had to look away. They were a brilliant blue, and matched the sea perfectly. They were wild and beautiful and dangerous and captivating, and he could get lost in them. Her hair flowed in a light breeze, a golden curtain that rippled on the breaths of wind. Her gown was perfect, skirt ruffling around her legs with a life of its own. She was not human. She was something more than human.
She placed a finger on his lips, a simple gesture the Lily he thought he had known would never do. She peered at him intently, as if memorizing his face. She still did not say a word, but instead smiled. The pen felt heavy in her hand. Defiantly, she threw it to the side. It landed to the side, digging itself into the sand. She would do what she had to.
The sun had only the smallest of edges beneath the waves. Lille leaned forward, with an expression that suggested she had a secret to tell her. He realized for the first time that she was just a scant inch shorter than him, and that he had no trouble looking into her eyes. He never had come that close before. Something had always stopped him.
Lille kissed him square on the mouth, gone before he could even recognize the sensation. She was wading into the water, and the waves lapped enough to tug at her ankles. She turned this time when he called her name. The waves only reached her knees. Lille ignored the water that was slowly darkening to a purple that was almost black.
"Lille-" he began, not knowing what to say.
"My name is Aquiline." This time, the familiar voice had no bitter or angry undertone. He knew that this was the girl that saved his life, more than he had known anything else. "And it's time for me to go. My promise is fulfilled." She was careful to keep regret from her voice. He had been given a chance. Regret was too close to sadness, and sadness would lead only to self-pity. Anger was safe.
Her dress moved without any further puff of wind. It spiraled around her legs, sparkling in the light. She was silhouetted against the rising sun, and the details were lost in the stark shadow. The skirt melded into itself as it wove about her legs, leaving an emerald fish's tail that reached to just below the arms. She made a perfect dive with an arc impossible for a human, and there was a flash of metallic green in the first of morning's sunlight. For a mermaid, such dives were easily made.
With a foreboding feeling, he watched as the waves that touched his feet were, for just a few seconds, a dark shade of purple that he could recognize. He finally had placed the other voice of Sirene. Sirene had been the squid-woman-monster that had attacked him. He just had been too closed-minded to realize it. A tentacle waved above the water, next to a blonde-haired head that appeared above the water for the shortest of instants. A transparent tail splashed as she swam away, following a squid. She was gone, and no one was at fault but himself.
