Ursula threw open her private cupboard and raked her clawed hands through her hair, searching. The fuschia absinthe she usually favored had lost its taste, and she'd thrown most of it out into the garden. It had failed her. In fact, every spell-book, scroll, parchment, and cupboard had failed her, and as her desperation, no, fury—desperation was for fools and peasants—took her over, the uselessness of every ingredient, bottle, and artifact in her bony cavern was stabbing at her behind the eyes.
Little Krill's state was growing desperate, yes, desperate! and Joe had been gone for nearly two days. She knew she hadn't asked him where he would be going, and only knew that he somehow knew how to inflict suffering on the petty prince responsible for his wounds. She should have waited. She should have—no. Joe should have waited! What was he thinking, leaving her like this?
Although Krill had improved rapidly after the first healing potion, his condition had taken a severe turn for the worse after Joe had gone. Part of her suspected that his system could sense the absence, but he hadn't been lucid long enough since to check. His skin, which once bore a rich blend of human and octopus features, was now ashen and mottled, with ominous dark patches around the wounds, and his tentacles hung limp and listless. Ursula could only suspect poison, but after pouring every cure and remedy down his throat, was beginning to suspect something less benign. The wounds from the hooked spear that she'd cleaned herself had festered, causing the boy's normally vibrant complexion to deteriorate—it was a thorough waste of the elasticity of youth!
At last, she saw it. The smallest vial of medicine in her hidden store fell into her hand, its button-sized pearl stopper promising wonderful, magical things. A wish-cure, though terribly expensive, would undo any poison, and most curses. Short of a devil's deal, there was nothing it couldn't fix. She had been saving it for something special, but desperate—no, furious times—called for furious measures. Or so claimed the peasants.
"There you are," she muttered, wasting no time in swanning from her back room to the cauldron room where Krill still lay on his patient's bed, wrapped thickly in seaweed.
It was hard to ignore how the sight bothered her—yes, bothered! Concern was for those without magic. Krill had always been on the small side for a cecaelia, and when she'd first taken in the malnourished child she'd sincerely doubted whether he would survive the year. Fortunately, with her nutrition potions and Joe's watchful eye, he'd recovered, and turned into the sort of mischievous rascal she expected of boys his age—if a little cautious of certain things. He would make an excellent apprentice the day she contracted him in, although she would have been lying if she said that that was all the interest she had in her boys. They were both, afterall, so similar to herself.
Joe's lineage was a dangerous one, having been spawned by her half-sister. If Triton ever found out that he shared blood with him, he'd likely have him executed, not that he ever would. That secret would die with her, and Joe would never be burdened with it. Krill was just another vagabond whose parents had conveniently disappeared, whether of their own irresponsible volition or to the mobs in neighboring kingdoms, she didn't particularly care. The boy was hers, and may the trenches take any mer or fish who damaged her property.
"Now, then," she said, uncapping the pearl stopper.
Krill's lips were parched and cracked. Despite being underwater, the dehydration was settling in badly. By her mark—and she was rarely wrong, thank-you-very-much—he had perhaps a day left in these oceans before the snow took him. She poured the mixture down his throat, and waited for the tell-tale glow in his chest. The improved breathing. The return to lucidity.
The glow in his chest started, pouring out an ethereal, happy light that dispelled some of the dark patches, but just as soon as it had begun, the glow sputtered out, and the dark patches stubbornly returned.
Ursula screamed in frustration. She threw the vial, which shattered invisible glass shards on the wall. Let them cut who they would.
"NO! What in the name of Poseidon's blood is this? Why!?"
She saw red, and passed some minutes in a blur of fury, before some distant, rational part of her pulled her back to her cavern.
It's just one boy, no? Replaceable. Even easily so, something soothingly sinister whispered in her head.
It was the sort of thing she would usually listen to, but something else, something less easy to ignore, was telling her that if she lost what little family she'd taken the time to build, then she would be losing something vital to…to something. It was driving her mad that she didn't know what. What she did know, however, was that none of her magics had ever so acutely disappointed her, and that every cure she'd tried was only making things worse.
She decided to go to the source.
The scrying pearl in her cavern was the best in the kingdom, perhaps the ocean, so when she whipped off the silky cover and yelled her order, it at least, obeyed her immediately.
"Ezra!"
Ezra's face shimmered into view. She seemed to be viewing from something small, like a pendant, that he was holding up from his chest.
"Ursula, is that you? How the dartfish did you reach me through this?"
"Pay attention to your magic and you'd know, Ezra," she snapped impatiently. "The eel you sent to my cave decided to repay my help, and your personal recommendation by nearly killing my apprentice! I hold you partially responsible for his actions, and demand to know how he was wounded!"
Only the slightest twinge of an eyebrow betrayed Ezra's surprise. "Ellian managed to find the princess, then? I admit I did not think he would be capable enough to wrestle her from a cecaelia alone. However, forgive me. I did not know he was yours."
"What are you blathering about?" Ursula demanded. "My boy couldn't have kidnapped your princess if he'd wanted to, and you know very well we stay out of Triton's dealings. I'm talking about this!"
She moved the pearl over Krill's body, being sure to give Ezra the worst view possible of the damage. Ezra sighed through the pearl, though whether it was in horror or something more promising, like second-hand pain, she couldn't tell.
"He was certainly wounded with the Aegean Harpoon," Ezra surmised, his voice echoing methodically from the pearl, which did nothing to ease Ursula's anger. "The weapon in question was procured through some unknown means around the time of the formation of Atlantis, and has been used to maintain the Red Sea's autonomy throughout the years—although I wouldn't have believed that the idiot prince's father would have entrusted him with the real thing so early. The wounds themselves are days old, I would say, yes Ursula?"
Ursula gave no answer but to growl. No poison could have lasted so long on any weapon, which meant that it was indeed a curse that she was dealing with; however, even if it was a curse, her cures should have broken it by now.
"Indeed. In that case, I surmise that this is the boy Ellian was talking about at dinner, trying to impress the princess—who you'll be delighted to hear was appropriately disgusted with him. Much promise that one. Unfortunately, it also means that our royal imbecile hasn't found her yet…although perhaps it means he'll have a chance of winning if he does."
"My second apprentice has gone after him," Ursula snarled. "If your prince wounds a second one of my boys, Ezra, I will have your blood for it."
Ezra gave another weary sigh that wasn't nearly as terrified or threatened as her promise deserved. "Afraid you'll have to get in line for that, Ursula," he said wryly.
She bared her teeth in a gritted semblance of a smile, twistedly pleased that at least some of Ezra's traitorous behavior was at last being rewarded. "In trouble with Triton, then, are you? You knew it would happen eventually."
"Happily, Triton is a problem that neither you or I shall ever have to deal with again," Ezra grit out darkly, as though he were being careful not to be heard.
That was significant news.
"What?"
"The tides are turning, Ursula. Perhaps in the coming days, I will be able to repay even you for your constant sacrifice."
"That sounds like a threat," she said dangerously.
The fuzzy image of his face shook its head to the negative. "Not at all. In fact, it's an invitation. I may not be able to save your boy here, but I can give you ample opportunity to gain recompense for him. A coup is coming, Ursula, and I would be very much gratified to have you with me when the power vacuum begins."
Suspicion swirled in her like an errant discus. A coup in Triton's court? It was suicide.
"Think of it, Ursula. You could make the eel pay. You could make him suffer. However; I must insist that he marries the princess first. It is crucial to the stability of what we stand to gain. Believe me, I'd have done with him long ago if that weren't the case."
"You'll never beat Triton," she whispered, not knowing, nor really caring if she could stop Joe from hunting him down. Joe had never broken a promise, yet, and he had said he was going to find the eel…but he had been gone for so long. The pearl wouldn't track him—she'd already tried, and she couldn't afford to go after him.
"I already have," Ezra countered, so levelly, she almost believed him. "Two days, and we will have everything, Ursula. I only ask for your support."
"The nerve," she said, so quietly she wasn't sure if he'd heard her. She'd gotten the information she'd needed from him and then some, and the sound of Krill's erratic breathing at her side pulled her like a vice to her cavern; however, if there were some way she could have both…"You've no idea what you've already cost me, Ezra."
"And you've no idea what we stand to gain. One day, Ursula. Meet me at the palace, and don't be seen until you're in my quarters. Then, it will be too late for anyone to stop either of us."
Apparently Ezra had been paying more attention to his magic than she'd given him credit for, because then, the connection severed. It annoyed her that he'd beaten her to it, but then, neither of them were cecaelia with much time—particularly if what Ezra had insinuated was true.
Of course, it could always be a trap, she reasoned.
But then, if it was, it wouldn't particularly matter. She had a suspicion she already knew what the price would be for the magic she needed. All that was left was to beg a favor from fate, himself.
Placing a finger on the pearl, she said firmly, "Fate!"
Fate's form, blacker than black was the only thing in the oceans that was enough to darken the white surface of her instrument. As the darkness poured over the pearl's surface like a shadow, all that was visible were his tell-tale glowing eyes, and pointy grin.
"My, my, this seems to be the day for old friends. Been a while since you've come to me, Ursula. Not since you wanted to dabble in black magic, if I recall. What can I do for you, my sweet?"
"None of my magic is working, Fate," she said, forcing herself to sound polite, and sadly failing, but for some reason, that only seemed to amuse Fate more.
"Ah, the irony…" he crooned, and though something told her he meant more than just her magic, she also suspected he'd never tell her without asking a price, and there was only so much she stood to lose at present.
"You don't think your deal is faulty, do you?" she stated blandly. "My magic isn't working, Fate."
"And you don't really think that black magic can heal black magic," he smarmed. "You know too much to think that, don't you little witch?"
"I need to heal this boy," she said, careful not to ask for anything until it was time.
"But you can't," he said, sounding infuriatingly pleased with himself.
It was all the answer she needed. She'd done everything she could, and if Fate knew…well, Fate just knew.
"I want to make a deal to ensure the safety of my boys," she said, feeling the truth spill from her. It was never a good idea to double-word things with Fate, as he was likely to take things at face-value and not at the spirit of things if she didn't, herself. Something about tete-a-tete, he'd said long ago.
Fate chuckled. "Ah, but that would be two deals, little witch, and from what I see, you can only pay for one."
Ursula's breath caught. Poseidon take his dastardly fins. Of course he'd decide to barter.
"What is it you want?"
"Why, only the rest of your light magic," he said. "After all, you won't miss it, will you? It doesn't seem to be working anymore, and you haven't used it in…so long."
She felt herself nod, a tiny, jerking motion that couldn't deny what he said. She hadn't used it in some time, hadn't until it was too weak to do what she needed it to.
"If I give you the rest of my light magic, I'll become…" she trailed off, unsure.
"Something like me? Yes."
Did she really have a choice?
Fate's smile promised dark and horrible things, widening impossibly further.
"Well, Ursula, do we have a deal?"