He’d lied to her. They’d all lied to her. Told her she was one of them. Kept her in the dark.
The little mermaid sobbed again, her eyes stinging as she watched the ship float along, the life she could’ve been living happening above.
And then the last chunk of blackness evaporated. The last images she’d seen as a human surged forth.
Evie drifting down toward her.
Nik’s lithe form racing toward her friend’s limp body, drawing Evie up to the surface and away. Evie first. Always first.
Then, several minutes later, his shadow returning, his eyes landing on her own body, prone near the seafloor. Him bobbing back to the surface.
Him swimming back down but then stalling out. Caught in the waves by another boy. The one Evie liked—Iker. Another prince.
Nik could’ve fought, but he’d let Iker pull him up. He’d given up.
Their friendship, the way she felt about him, her life—none of that mattered.
The golden glow around her memories of Nik and her human life with him evaporated. Her fond memories of Evie, the girl who was like the sister she never had, gone. Her happy memories of Iker, always a handsome distraction, no more.
All that was left was anger.
Fury.
Ire.
She wanted to break it all. Shatter it all. Ruin it all.
She wanted retribution for all that had been stolen from her.
She wasn’t human anymore because of the choices of these three. She was magic, though. A being of intense and beautiful magic. There was no place the magic ended and she began. She didn’t have her rightful life, her soul, but she had her magic and her anger.
And she wanted to use them.
“Ve?r.”
Storm. Yes. Storm.
“Ve?r,” she repeated, feeling the magic surge in her veins, saturate her skin, tingle behind her eyes.
She was magic. She was the storm.
“Ve?r.” Above a clap of thunder rolled, loud enough to shake her waves. It was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. Yet she wanted to see this happen. See the destruction. Endless waves, and yet she’d suddenly felt so confined.
But she wasn’t. A light went on in the darkness, and she knew she could go above.
The day she’d been told was her birthday—three days from now—wasn’t her birthday. It was the day she’d lost her rightful life and been reborn, but not the day of her true birth. She’d shared that day with Nik, so if this was his birthday, it was hers as well. She was fifteen. She could go above.
The little mermaid repeated her command as she pushed for the surface. Lightning was growing, the wind was picking up, and the waves were rocking. The boat’s hull swayed and suddenly filled with light. People running from her power. Hiding below.
But not everyone.
As she crested the surface she saw the three people from her memories—from that day—up top. She knew they’d be there—always acting like heroes.
Except when it came to her. Their bravery had a limit.
And she would make them suffer.
The boat lurched as Evie and Iker tried to steady it. Nik took orders from his cousin—of course he did—and went to the side of the ship to cut free a little attached schooner.
It was her chance.
“Ve?r.”
Waves rocked the ship and the prince faltered, hanging on with all his strength. And just when he seemed to settle into his balance, the little mermaid sent the largest wave yet—bigger than the wall of memories that had struck her, bigger than any she’d seen with human eyes—right into the boy who hadn’t saved her.
The ship tipped. And over Nik went, into the sea.
His eyes were shut when he appeared before her—his head striking the hull of the schooner on the way down. No blood. Just Nik, floating before her, looking almost as if he was sleeping.
Peaceful.
The little mermaid took his face into her hands. He looked older now, the beginnings of a beard scraping against her fingertips.
“Why didn’t you fight for me? Why?”
Nik answered in bubbles, his lungs failing him.
She thought to let them fail.
She thought to let him become bones in the sand. Her revenge. Yet somehow that didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel great enough. It wouldn’t get her what she wanted back.
And so she brought him to air. Swam him ashore. Her mind churning with possibility as his chest rose and fell in her arms.
The sea king had made her a mermaid—not her choice, not what she wanted. The little mermaid wanted to live above the sea. And she would find the magic to change herself back.
Then she would get her revenge.
27
THE RECEIVING LINE FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY SEEMS TO be a mile long—it curves through the hallways, down the staircase, and out of ?ldenburg Castle. It doesn’t make it down the exterior stairs and into the tulip garden, but it would have if they’d waited another five minutes to open the ballroom doors.
We stand at the end of the line. Several schoolmates of mine are closest to us—including Ruyven and Didrik. Malvina is ahead of us. As usual, stares come from all sides, cold and dismissive, whispers of conspiracy on warm lips. They all think I have a plan—that everything I do is to assert my place in the palace, where I don’t belong.
This time they would be right, I suppose. I do have a plan.
But it’s not for me.
If a kiss doesn’t do it, I will. I’ll take Annemette to Havnestad Cove and tell the sea what I want. What the magic owes me—owes us. The sea took Anna. I deserve Annemette.
And Annemette, well, she thinks I deserve some of the magic she has tonight. She spelled the dress I’m wearing—an enchanting Havnestad blue, netted with black lace at the bodice. Hers is the same color, but accented with ivory. With our matching pearls and tresses left down and flowing, we’re a study in contrasts—light and dark.
I try to take a deep breath in, my nerves piling high, but my bodice is a little tighter than usual. “Pride must suffer pain,” Annemette had whispered in my ear as she tied the bodice. I’d think about how tight the queen’s bodice must be, but laughing would only hurt more.
People line up behind us as we move forward at a steady but slow clip, the line snaking forward in a constant motion but with the velocity of a centipede. When we wind down the hallway, the entrance to the royal ballroom is finally in sight. I spot King Asger’s tall form, crown atop his dark head, sapphires glittering beneath the great chandeliers that light the hall with a golden glow.
I glance to his left and see Nik and his less ornate prince’s crown. One more spot and two inches down and there’s Iker, wearing, for the first time this trip, his own crown, decorated with the rubies of Rigeby Bay.
Almost there.
Up front, the visiting girls dawdle, finally getting the attention of both princes. The queen is all smiles, and so is Nik—he’d never let these people down. Not in a million years. Iker has on his Prince Charming face, playing up to his reputation with winks and bows and kisses to each girl’s hand.
After another long spell, we come to our turn with the king.
“Evelyn, my, you look more beautiful than ever tonight.”
“Thank you, your grace,” I say, shaking his hand.
“Yes, quite beautiful,” adds Queen Charlotte, her eyes narrowing. “Your gown is lovely.”
I’m sure she’s wondering where I got such an extravagant thing, whether Nik purchased it for me, or worse, I stole it from one of her precious visiting girls. She’s too careful to say anything here, though I’m sure whatever rumor she spreads will reach me later.
I take her hand and curtsy.
“Evie, you look fantastic,” Nik says when I move down the line to him, and I’m surprised his attention is on me when Annemette stands behind me, looking even more striking. As I turn to him, he takes my hand and kisses it. My breath catches.
“Yes, she does. Hurry up, Cousin,” Iker says, irked.
I draw in Nik and give him a peck on one blushing cheek before squeezing his hand. He is simply dashing in his sleek black suit, hair combed and lying perfectly under his crown.