“Because she didn’t love you,” Tink cut in.
“Are you suggesting that deceitful hag loves him?” James cocked a brow. “Belle, Caecilia couldn’t understand the meaning of love if we read the entry to her from the dictionary.”
“She does. I visited her during the party while the rest of you drank.”
“Wait. You’re saying that you knew she and Coral were the same?”
“Suspected. Then she confirmed it. I couldn’t tell either of you what I knew, but she really, really likes you, I’d dare to even say loves you, Prince Joren.”
“She lied to me.” Joren downed his drink despite the merciless burn that scorched his nasal passages and seared into his throat. His eyes watered, but he thumped it down on the table for James to refill it. “She could have told me at any opportunity but chose not to.”
“Damn straight,” James agreed.
“She was mute,” Tink reminded them.
Joren pointed at her, rum sloshing over the rim of the glass with the sharp movement. “Oh no, don’t you dare make excuses for her. I found out she could read and write and we had many a long conversation. Bookfuls.”
“Burn them,” James said. “Out of sight, out of mind. You’ll only waste away hours rehashing every conversation, reading through them time after time. Ask me how I know.”
He grimaced at the thought of James re-reading the same old letters from Rapunzel for years, believing a lie written from their mother as the truth. “Perhaps you’re right. Gods. I planned to pull anchor and sail for home after sunrise. I just thought Coral would be with me.” Sunrise had become their favorite hour together.
“The sooner you put her behind you, the happier you’ll be. Burn everything she’s touched. Sail home and forget her.”
“James!” Tink slammed a tray of snack items on the table, making cookies bounce and spilling salted nuts over the bowl’s rim. “Neither of you are giving Caecilia a chance. What about forgiveness?”
“Belle, love, you know I adore your optimism, but this is different than you and me. You never deceived me. You do not know Caecilia as I do, and this is Joren’s decision, not yours.”
Her nose scrunched and her face lit red. “It isn’t your decision either, to fill him with hate and animosity you…you bitter old man!”
“Old?” James blinked. “Old!”
Poor James. Poor, old, vain James. His wife knew where to stick the knife and give it a twist.
Joren snickered into his glass while his friend glared at his wife. They were the distraction he needed, a honeyed taste of amusement to temper the sour patina of pain.
“I wasn’t a bloody old man an hour ago when we—”
“You were old then and you’re old now, but also bitter and mean and…and…” Tink’s flushed face only deepened in color, and her wings burst free in a shower of golden dust. “Heartless!” she finally cried. “You can sleep alone.”
James rose from his chair. “Belle—”
Too late, she was gone in a burst of radiant light, leaving only gold and pink flower petals behind.
“Ah,” Joren said, reaching for the bottle in the middle of the table to refill his own glass. “Misery truly does love company. I’d say I’m sorry, old chap, but at least we both have a reason to be drinking now.”
* * *
“Caecilia!” Tinker Bell’s voice echoed throughout the grotto when she appeared at its entrance in an explosion of sweet-smelling flower petals.
She didn’t answer. Why bother, when the bug had only appeared to grind salt into her fresh wounds?
“Caecilia!” the godmother called again. She zipped inside and hovered over the water, twisting around in the air. “Where are you? Please, I’m not here to make trouble. I want to help you!”
Against her better judgment, Caecilia emerged from the pool and stared the beautiful fae down. “Help me? No one can help me.”
“You can help yourself. He’s leaving. Prince Joren is leaving the island at sunrise and sailing his crew back to Eisland. You have to go to the ship before he’s gone!”
“He doesn’t want to speak to me.”
“Make him speak with you. Don’t take no for an answer. Go to him and pour out your heart until he listens.”
Caecilia flashed her a sad smile. “I tried on the beach, and he wouldn’t hear anything of it. I…love is a joke, Tinker Bell. I wish more than anything right now that I’d never known it. Never experienced it. I loved that man from the very first moment I saw him, and loving him has only brought me pain.” Twice over, because she’d sacrificed what little chance she had of unraveling her father’s curse to rip Joren from death’s grip.
And she couldn’t even bear to tell him. It would be self-serving.
“He loves you,” Tink insisted, big tears welling in her eyes. “He does. Please go to him.”
“He loved a lie I can never give him.”
“He loved the true you, and he’s upset that you didn’t trust him!”
“This is how it must be, fae. Let it be.”
“But…but if you don’t go, you’ll die.”
Caecilia stiffened, shoulders rising with tension, an ache throbbing through her chest. “You can see that, can’t you?”
Tinker Bell nodded. “I didn’t see it before, but your soul, it’s…”
“Fading?”
The little fae nodded again, her glow becoming a subdued shade of melancholic blue. “I’m sorry. I judged you. No one asked why you did it. No one gave you a chance. You didn’t even tell him you saved his life.”
Again, Caecilia didn’t ask how Tinker Bell knew. The fae had grown powerful over the past three years since her transformation to a demigoddess of the stars.
“Can I ask you a question, Caecilia?”
“Why not? I have nothing else to hide.”
“Why did you chase James for so long? Why did you want him?”
Caecilia closed her eyes. Henri had been the most handsome man to ever cross her vision until the day she saw Joren on the deck of the Madeleine, merrily dancing with his crew one sailor after another despite his elevated station as their commanding naval officer and their prince. “James reminded me of times long past—of a mortal man I once fancied.” She glanced away and shrugged her shoulders. The tension gripped her throat again, squeezing her jaw and constricting her airway. “Someone I wronged without meaning to. And I suppose I hoped in some way that if I treated him well—if I was good to him—it might make up for that. He loved the sea so much, I thought…”
“Thought you could have a companion and repay your debt.”
“Perhaps so. Not that it matters.”
“James wasn’t the one for you, but Joren is. Please, at least see him off.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell the fae to buzz off, but instead, she paused and considered the request. “I promise I will think on it. That’s all.”
“All right. Just remember, he leaves at dawn, and that’s only two hours away,” said the former sprite. She bit her lower lip and studied Caecilia a moment longer, appearing satisfied in the end. “Remember one thing for me?”
“What is that?”
“Believe in yourself. Even when the prize seems beyond your reach, believe.”
Once Tinker Bell left, Caecilia returned to her current batch of potions, with absolutely no intention of going anywhere. Joren knew where to find her, but he’d made his mind quite clear when they last spoke—she disgusted him. He would sail away, and she would never see his face again. Never see the brilliance and warmth of his smile.
No, she would fade away and be forgotten.
But that didn’t mean she had to die without a final glimpse of him, untarnished by disgust and fury.
Beyond her grotto, the first rays of light brightened the horizon, smudging pink and gold streaks across the fluffy clouds. Caecilia traveled down the underwater passage and into the ocean, arriving at her destination minutes later to find the King Matthieu’s Cannon no longer i
n sight.
“No, no, no…”
She slipped into deeper water and opened her senses, reaching out with her magic across the tides surrounding the archipelago. Before true fear could set in, fear that he’d left while Tink tried to warn her, she located a commotion on the waves and a sorcerer’s conjured wind. Caecilia rushed to them, tail long and agile despite its cumbersome appearance.
Thankfully, they hadn’t traveled far and were still among the cluster of islands. Crewmen bustled around the deck, oblivious to her absence and her pain. They spoke with eager voices, ready to return home and reunite with their families and loved ones.
Then she saw him. Joren stood on the aft balcony outside his cabin, his arms wrapped around a feminine figure with long blonde hair. Cara, the mage friend he’d worried so much about. It had to be. The sorceress had been among the first to dance with Joren on the eve of his birthday.
Perhaps he’d loved her all along. Even as Caecilia’s heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, a part of her recognized a sensible, quality match—the very sort her father would have brokered between her and another demigod.
Now she had her answer. Joren had moved on and forgotten her already. Why would he choose a shriveled crone when he could have a beautiful mage beside him?
The two figures kissed as the first rays of sunrise broke the horizon. Unable to bear the sight, Caecilia dove into the water. The Viridian could wash away her tears, but nothing would ever sweep away the pain. No matter how fast she swam, her heartache remained, a gnawing sensation burning through her chest.
“Poor, poor Caecilia. Once again feeding the oceans with her tears.”
The familiar mocking voice floating on the currents brought her to a halt. She spun around and peered through the midnight depths in search of the speaker.
“You know naught of what you speak.”
“Don’t I, sister?” Andromeda swam into sight, as beautiful and haughty as ever. Her golden tail sparkled, even in the depths where the sunlight barely glimmered. Several fish, drawn by the brilliant sparkle of her scales, swam around her.
“What do you want, Andromeda? To see me suffer? To laugh at my pain? Go ahead then. You can do nothing to worsen how I already feel.”
Andromeda clicked her tongue and swam closer. “Always with the drama. No, little sister, I’m not here to cause you further suffering, deserving as you may be.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I’ve been sent to offer you another way out. Father still can’t bear to look at you, but he also can’t stand the idea of you dying either. For whatever reason, I don’t know. He was always soft-hearted when it came to you. He spoiled you.”
“Spoiled me so much he did this to me,” Caecilia muttered.
“You’re alive. It’s more than the dozens of men slaughtered thanks to your irresponsible games.” Andromeda tilted her head. “It’s more than you deserve.”
“Get to the point. What do you want? Did you come to gloat and taunt me, or did Father truly send you here?”
“I came bearing this.” A flick of her tail brought Andromeda within touching distance. She offered a dagger on her open palms, the gilded hilt engraved with starfish and shells. “With this dagger, you can retake your life and become one of us again. You’ll have your beauty, a complete restoration of your magic, and a life free of pain.”
Overwhelmed by both her curiosity and its beauty, Caecilia reached for it. Magic crackled beneath her fingertips, a static buzz. “How so?”
“By taking one heart for another. You must plunge this dagger into Prince Joren’s chest before the curse takes its toll six days hence.”
Caecilia jerked her hand away. “No.”
“It is that or die.”
“I can’t do that to him.”
“Why should it matter to you what happens to the prince? He’s only a mortal. You never had a chance with him. You deceived him. Drive this dagger into his heart as he sleeps and your curse will be broken.”
“Why him?”
Andromeda’s eyes twinkled with delight. “Because you love him. Breaking the curse requires a sacrifice of love. It’s the only way Father will allow you to return to the underwater realm. He wants to know you’re truly repentant and ready to do what’s necessary to end your exile.”
“He doesn’t deserve that. I can’t…his people need him.”
“Ah, just as you need him?” Her sister swam around her in a slow circle. “He knows you are dying. He knows your time is limited, but at this very moment he sails away to his homeland to marry another woman. A handful of hours after ending a relationship with you. How much could he possibly have cared about you? It was your body he wanted. Your aid to recover his people.”
“That isn’t true!”
“Isn’t it, though? Eisland is a decadent place of selfish delights and social decay. Tell me, what did you see during those months in his kingdom? I have traveled to their so-called grand city. I have walked their streets and seen the hungry and forgotten. He is no better than any other human noble, concerned only with those dear to him.”
“That isn’t the Joren I know.”
Andromeda tossed back her head. “Oh yes, of course. The Joren you know sailed away kissing another woman. Don’t be foolish. That is a man who will never think of you again. He used you for what you could give him, and now you’re dead to him.”
* * *
Joren stepped onto the aft balcony and lingered by the rail. Less than an hour from the coast of Wai Alei, he wondered if he’d made the right choice.
If he’d miss her.
If he’d overreacted.
No, he thought. Caecilia had lied and could not be trusted.
He opened the slender black box and gazed at its contents. The choker made from white star metal glittered resplendently on a bed of sapphire silk. The blue ice diamond from his grandmother’s ring added thousands of gold coins to the bauble’s value.
He chucked it over the rail into the Viridian.
The sooner he forgot both it and Coral, the sooner he could move on to embrace a future as a bachelor uncle, a single admiral, and a prince who refused to ever seek love again.
Chapter 27
Caecilia hated him. She loved Joren and she hated him, her emotions such conflicting things that she lay on the rocks beside her grotto with the treacherous dagger within reach while she trailed her fingers through the turquoise pool. She had immortality, power, and beauty at her fingertips, a target two days’ swim away from her, and a family willing to accept her back into their arms. Supposedly.
In two days, she could be in Atlantis once more, surrounded by adoring merpeople who’d missed their demigoddess princess.
And a sister who loathed her. Andromeda would never forget that her own mortal lover had been among the casualties that day, drowned when he and several other Wai Alei fishermen tried to rescue crewmen of the Queen Priscilla’s Passion.
She could hug her mother again. Gods, she missed her mother as much as she missed chess games with her father or shark hunting with Narcissa, the only older sister to ever understand Caecilia and share her passion for seducing mortal men. They both had the souls of huntresses, which had translated well when it came to pursuing humans.
But Narcissa had never been as selfish as Caecilia, and she’d never caused a crew of dozens to drown on the reef.
Fed up with her self-pity, she snatched the blade from the algae-slickened rocks and dove deep, a few flicks of her powerful tail propelling her through the underwater passage between her grotto and the shore. Once there, Caecilia took a seat on the rocky coast and watched the tide sweep in.
Though she had two choices and five days to decide, she needed only seconds to know in her heart what was right.
Caecilia flung the dagger as far as she could into the foaming tide. “I won’t do it,” she whispered to the surf. “I lived a selfish life as a demigoddess. I lived a life of repentance as a hag, and now I accept my death.”
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She had been the one to abuse his trust, and so it only made sense that she should be the one to die.
* * *
The next time a fairy godmother gave Joren advice, he planned to listen. He spent the five-day journey from Wai Alei to Eisland in a hell of his own making, a wraith who fulfilled his duties as admiral of his kingdom’s flagship entirely from his cabin.
Favorable winds shaved two days from their voyage. While his crew had celebrated each day they traveled closer to home, he found little signs of Coral—of Caecilia—everywhere he looked. He found a coral-pink ribbon on his bedside, one of her favorite dresses in his wardrobe, and fizzy bath spheres tucked in a basket in the bathroom. He wanted to hurl all of them overboard, but he’d already given in to his foolish impulses once too many times.
Rapunzel wouldn’t utter a word about him throwing away the choker. That was the great thing about his empathetic and loving twin. She always knew when he had beaten himself up enough over his own foolish deeds.
“Come join us for brunch, Joren,” Cara’s voice carried to him from the open doorway. He glanced up to find her leaning against the frame with an oversized tea mug in hand.
“No, thank you,” he muttered, pecking at the typewriter that he’d come to loathe. “I cannot—”
“Your work will wait for you. Your crew and your officers, however, are all worried for you.”
He said nothing.
“This truly is a beautiful ship.”
Again, he peered down at the device on his desk and typed with his index fingers. Amerys had lied to him. This was not faster than handwriting.
“What can I do to help you?”
Finally, he sat back in the seat and eyed her shrewdly. “You just lost your brother to a kingdom filled with hate and violence, and you’re trying to help me?”
“Yes. That’s what one does for friends, Joren. You put aside your problems to help them, just as you put aside yours to sail us home.”
Sea Witch and the Magician Page 28
