The only way to stay.
Love wasn’t an option. Not for her. Not with the hate mounting each moment in her heart. Her hate had replicated itself until there was no room for another emotion. It had become her blood and breath and flesh and bone. It engulfed her, the pressure filling up without release. If she could cry, she knew that her tears would overflow the sea. Destroy all in its path. Wash away the world’s coasts in one fell swoop.
She wanted destruction—not only of the world above but of the world below.
Everyone involved in taking her from the life she’d loved deserved punishment. She would ruin them. All of them.
She had a plan for revenge—on Nik, on Evie, on even the sea royalty.
And the first step was right before her.
She’d stalked the coast of Havnestad in the days since her discovery, waiting for her chance. Her family thought she left the castle often because she was nervous about going up for the first time—that she needed to swim to clear her mind. She let them think that.
On the morning of her supposed birthday, her family saw her off with songs and merriment. Galia, the sister closest to her in age, offered to come with her for company’s sake. The little mermaid told her no, she would do it by herself. Galia didn’t push.
And then she was free.
The little mermaid went to Havnestad Harbor, searching for ships on the move. Easy bodies to snatch. It wasn’t a matter of taking a life. She knew she could do that. It was a matter of not taking too many.
She spied Evie on the dock that morning, magic in the girl’s wake, like perfume trailing a noble dressed in silk and lace.
The mermaid shook it off. She needed Evie to be alive for this to work.
But Evie’s father . . . She watched as the man prepared his ship, ready to sail. And she thought it might be the answer—something else to cause Evie pain—but then she spied a better option.
Iker.
Iker, who was kissing Evie in the open. Like she wasn’t a peasant. Like she had a chance.
Death finding him might be more painful for Evie than death finding her father—love was strange that way.
It was Iker who kept Nik from reaching her the day she drowned. He’d been her death.
And she would be his.
The little mermaid followed him aboard the same ship she’d stalked that night—the one with the little windows. His little ship was being repaired in the yard. It was simple to stay in the big ship’s wake, following through the ?resund Strait and up toward the Jutland, waiting for her chance.
The second day, it came.
The ship docked on the island of Kal?. There wasn’t much there but a ruined castle, she knew. Why would a fishing expedition stop here?
But soon she understood why.
A girl boarded, her chaperone and attendants following, carrying multiple trunks. The little mermaid’s memories were full of her own noble family and kin—she knew this was the daughter of a high house. She knew the trunks would be full of clothes, something she would need once she got to land, when she’d be too weak from her transformation to cast her own.
The elegant girl met Iker the same way Evie had left him—with a smile and a kiss. Just a sweet one on the cheek, but a kiss all the same. They knew each other. The playboy prince, living up to his reputation.
The elegant girl left him to go below, looking back as if she expected him to follow. He didn’t—and the mermaid wondered if Evie actually did have a chance. Instead, Iker directed his men to raise anchor.
The mermaid waited. Thought of using her powers to bring about yet another storm. She hoped Iker would get drunk. Teeter too close to the rail. Make it easy for her.
And just as she lost hope, a better idea struck.
Iker’s kiss did mean something. Even if he didn’t follow the girl belowdecks. It meant he’d be able to hurt Evie more alive than dead.
And Evie deserved pain.
Iker would pay later.
The little mermaid stole a trunk. She spared the ship’s captain, for the moment. Then she set out to find Evie’s father.
29
I FOLLOW ANNEMETTE OUT ONTO THE BALCONY AND pull her around to face me. She looks as though she’s about to melt into tearless sobs. I squeeze her hands. We are close enough now that our pearl necklaces catch the same lantern’s glow, and they light up like twin beacons in the night.
“Please, Evie. Go. Let me have this peace.”
I won’t. She knows I won’t.
The distance and whispers won’t guarantee us privacy, but they’re the best I can do. I keep my voice quiet yet confident. “Remember, I have a plan.”
Annemette rips her hands from mine and presses them to her face. “It’s useless! Neither you nor I have magic powerful enough to stave off what is to come. Just go!”
My words are barely audible. “I’m powerful enough,” I say, the words coming out strong and clear. “Please believe me.”
She sob-laughs. “You are so ridiculously stubborn.” Annemette swipes at her eyes, but doesn’t go on. I take her silence as an invitation.
“You know magic is barter—despite how different we are, we both know this. Magic with the sea is no different. We give to the sea, it returns you to land in kind.” Annemette doesn’t say anything, her features closing tight—trying to make sense of this. I quietly hurry into more of an explanation. “I’ve tested this. I know my magic is rigid and book-learned, but it’s right. And tonight, on the last night of Urda’s festival, our magic is strong. Stronger than any night of the year. Don’t you feel it?” I touch my pearl necklace, whose throbbing has grown as the days have gone by. “We are at one with Urda; we are balanced, and that is what magic is all about—balancing our inner power with the forces around us, giving and taking. It’s Urda’s way, and she and the sea both require like for like. They took Anna—”
“I am not Anna,” Annemette says plainly, clearly annoyed. “If you keep believing that, whatever you have planned won’t work!”
I shake my head. “I know you don’t remember. Maybe you never will, but this is something I can feel. I can feel Anna inside of you. But it doesn’t matter, Annemette—I care for you just as you are. Our friendship can be so much more than mine with Anna’s ever was. You and I are the same!
“Look,” I go on, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible, “the sea took Anna from me four years ago. And even if that girl only lives on as a memory in you, the sea took her soul. You did not keep it.” At this Annemette flinches. “And that’s what you need to survive. Anna’s soul is one portion of the exchange. The sea took from us and now it owes me—you—a soul in return.”
But she doesn’t consider a word I say. She only turns and raises her voice, and I realize both princes have followed us out—what they’ve heard, I don’t know.
“I must leave tonight, Nik,” she says.
Nik glances at me, but then returns his attention to Annemette, taking a step toward her. “Now? But the ball isn’t over yet,” Nik says, sadness in his voice. Behind him, Iker cocks a brow.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Nik is about to say more, but Iker barges into the conversation, taking a few steps until he’s towering above both of us. “I wasn’t aware of a midnight train to Odense, and no carriage will take you that far. Surely you aren’t going to walk.”
Nik shoots Iker a look of warning but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he takes both Annemette’s hands. “If you need to go, then go. I understand.”
“So, you’re going to vanish in the middle of the night? What a plan!” Iker’s eyes flash and he steps away from the wall. “Break his heart but not his spirit, return again in a few months and he’ll be so happy, he’ll just throw himself at you—title and all? Too bad you failed at the first step—”