by Shannon Hale
“Boy!” roared Master Azi from the helm. “Are the western shoals afore ye?”
“I don’t think so, Master! I can’t see the harbor buoy nor hear its bell.” Rory flinched as a fresh wave drenched him
“Keep your eyes peeled, Rory. We’ve got to be close,” Captain Northwind said. “Can you see lights on shore?”
“No, sir. But I’ll keep looking.”
“It’s no use, Cap’n,” Master Azi said. “I daren’t bring the Winter Nomad closer to shore. We’ve no choice but to head out to sea until the fog lifts. The Seawitch has beaten us.”
Along the mizzenmast a seagull skipped a jig.
“Azi, we aren’t giving up,” Captain Northwind said, snapping his spyglass closed. “We’ve battled ogres and pirates, crossed the Forbidden Sea, and journeyed to Chasm’s Portal and back. It’s not yet midnight. This war isn’t over.”
Back on the bow, the smell of iced lemonade and sunshine cut through the brine to tickle Rory’s nose. “Achoo!” He sneezed. “Caimbre?”
“There are easier ways to take a bath than hanging from a figurehead,” she teased.
Rory squinted and waved a hand in front of his face, chasing the fog away. At the edge of the lanterns’ light he spotted her long blonde hair and the wake of her mermaid’s tail. “Caimbre, this is not a joke. We’re in trouble. The Haven Port lighthouse is dark, and we can’t find the passage through the reef.”
“Humans worry too much. The fogbank isn’t big. Hold your course steady and you’ll be clear in two shakes of a tuna’s tail.”
“No, Caimbre, we won’t. This fog never thins. It’s surrounded us since sundown. The closer we get to Haven Port, the thicker it gets. It’s not natural.”
Caimbre tossed her hair and narrowed her eyes. “You think it’s the Seawitch. But why would she bother?”
“We found it, Caimbre.”
“The antidote?”
Rory grinned. “It’s in the captain’s quarters. Seen it with me own eyes.”
“You did it! Princess Leona and her kingdom are saved!” Caimbre clapped her hands and dolphin-danced on her tail.
“But only if we get the antidote to the castle before midnight. If we fail—”
“Then Princess Leona sleeps for a thousand years and the Seawitch rules instead.” Caimbre groaned, sinking in the water to her chin. “You’re right. You’re doomed. This fog is part of the Seawitch’s plot.”
“You could help us,” Rory said.
“Me? I’m nobody.”
“You’re exactly the hero we need. Can you climb to the top of the lighthouse and light the signal fire?”
“Climb?” She squeaked. “I’ve never even walked!”
“But you can, right? I mean, if you have to.”
Caimbre fingered her starfish necklace as she bobbed in the water. It hurts, she thought. Mother warned me that making legs burns like the fire of a thousand eel teeth in your tail.
“Yes, in an emergency I can walk,” she said. “But you don’t need me. Keeper Merriweather lights the signal fire.”
Rory pulled his chin to his chest and ducked as another wave washed over him. “But tonight he hasn’t. Something happened to him; I’m certain of it. Otherwise he’d never leave a ship alone at sea in the dark.”
“The Seawitch again.” Caimbre slapped the water with her tail.
“Rory!” Captain Northwind shouted. “Report!”
Rory opened his mouth and swallowed a gallon of seawater. “Please, Caimbre,” he sputtered. “Master Azi sent me to watch for the channel in the reef, but the fog is too dense. If the lighthouse isn’t lit soon—”
“The Seawitch wins.”
“And she’ll sink the Winter Nomad. We’ll be scuttled on the bottom of the harbor.”
“The Seawitch would sink her?”
“To get the antidote she would. And she’d lock us in chains and put us to work in the salt mines.”
“The salt mines!” Caimbre shot to the tip of her tail and whispered in his ear. “You should flee, Rory! Turn and sail as far and as fast as the wind will take you. Don’t let her trap you like a crab in a net.”
Rory shook his head. “We won’t abandon our princess or her kingdom. Our entire journey has been a quest to save us all.”
“But if you fail—”
“We fail or succeed together, Caimbre. Otherwise what was the point?”
Caimbre sank down into the water. Lying on her back, she looked up at Rory clinging to the figurehead and shivering. Her hair spread like a sea fan as she slowly beat her tail to keep pace with the ship.
Rory wants me to walk on land to save his ship and the kingdom. If Mother’s right, each footstep burns like jellyfish blisters. The weight of climbing stairs will make the pain worse, but how much? Worse than stingray spines through a fin? Fire coral under scales? Whatever it is, it’s going to be bad.
But how much pain will everyone suffer if the Seawitch rules? asked a new tiny voice inside. You have to help!
Caimbre nodded to herself. It was time to pick a side. She took a deep breath.
“The Seawitch can’t win,” she said. “Not when you’ve come so far.”
“There’s still time for us to get to the castle by midnight if you light the signal fire.”
Caimbre flipped to her side. “I’ll do it, Rory, for you and the Winter Nomad.” With a swish of her tail, she turned from the ship and disappeared in the fog.
“Thank you!” called Rory.
Don’t thank me yet, Caimbre thought, heading toward the lighthouse.
A few more flicks of her tail fin and the mist thinned to reveal the lighthouse breaching like a whale against the cold night sky. From the shadows of the dock, Caimbre craned her neck all the way to the arched windows at the top. It’s so far. She shivered.
A seagull landed next to a mooring post, flapping his wings with a squawk.
“Easy for you to say,” Caimbre sniffed, pulling herself out of the water to sit on the dock’s edge next to him. Leaving her tailfin fluttering in the surging tide, she reached up and twisted the water out of her hair. She paused, her hand resting on the starfish pendant around her neck.
This is ridiculous. I can’t remove my necklace and grow legs. Princesses and sleeping curses. Ships and magical fogbanks. Human problems belong to humans.
But the Seawitch isn’t human, said the little voice inside. And Rory asked you for help.
It’s too much. He doesn’t know what he’s asking, she argued.
But we have to do hard things, Caimbre. We have to think of others. That’s what separates us from creatures like the Seawitch.
It will hurt.
But only for a moment. You have to try.
I’m afraid.
It’s okay to be afraid, said the voice. Heroes never think they’re brave.
Before she could stop herself, Caimbre swung her starfish necklace up and over her head.
“Eeerok!” screamed the seagull.
Lightning tingled along the tip of her tail and then shot like a bullet to her belly. Wisps of steam glowed as her green scales shimmered and popped. Toes bubbled out from her tail fin as it split into ankles, knees, and thighs. Holding her starfish necklace in a white-knuckled grip, Caimbre bit her lip and tasted blood.
I can do this, she thought. But what if I can’t? She bit harder and held on. The time for choosing is over. Enduring is all that’s left.
When the rending ended and the world stood still, she emptied her lungs in a rush and wiped the tears out of her eyes.
A thousand eel teeth, Mother? That was more like a million fishhooks!
The seagull grunted and cocked his head.
“What are you looking at?” Caimbre snapped. “Never seen a mermaid grow legs before? This is nothing. Stick around. For my next trick, I’ll waltz with a penguin. Get ready to applaud.”
The seagull rolled his beady eyes and sighed.
Looking down at her hips and thighs, Caimbre gasped. She wore a gossamer
skirt with funny bulges along the sides. Rummaging in the pockets, she pulled out two stubby flippers. “Shoes? Mother, you amaze me. Your enchantment thought of everything.” She turned the flippers over and peeked inside the openings, eyeing the space against the size of her new feet. “At least I hope these are shoes.”
Running a hand along her calf, she shuddered at the dry, dull texture of her new skin, so different from its normal iridescent sheen.
Hair? Ugh! It’s not enough that I’ve lost my beautiful scales, now I’m fuzzy, too? She shook her head. Stop it. Pay attention to what matters. Rory and the others are counting on you. Tucking her feet into her shoes and her starfish necklace into a pocket, she concentrated on slowing the hammering of her heart.
Across the harbor, the Haven Port bell tolled the hour. Caimbre held her breath and counted. Eleven bells! It was almost midnight.
I have to hurry. She looked at her lap. But how do you move a leg?
Seawater swirled around her feet and rose in a swell to kiss her knees. Knees! That’s it! Human babies crawl. I just have to get to my knees!
Rolling sideways to her stomach and scooting like a seal, Caimbre dragged her legs onto the dock. I’ve traded being sleek like a dolphin for being clumsy like a walrus. A fat, landlocked walrus. She surveyed the distance to the lighthouse door and gritted her teeth. Don’t think, just move. One hand, one knee, just like a turtle.
The dock rasped sharkskin-rough against her skin, but she persevered and soon came to the path that led to the lighthouse door. Caimbre paused, then gingerly pressed her hand against the gravel, testing it. Sharper than a bed of crushed beach glass, it bit into the flesh of her palms with the eagerness of a rabid barracuda. She scrunched up her nose. Crawling wasn’t going work anymore.
I have to stand and walk or my skin will shred like seaweed in a storm.
The seagull waddled alongside her, yawning while she fought to pull herself upright against the mailbox.
“So, I’m boring you, Mr. Seagull?” she gasped, finding her balance on two feet. “Don’t worry. This next part is better.”
Six tottering steps brought her to the lighthouse door. Caimbre frowned. She had never opened a door before. She pushed. Nothing, not even a creak. Near the door’s edge was a shiny metal knob that looked important. She poked it with a finger. When it didn’t bite, she wrapped her hands around it, pushing and pulling with all her might. The door jiggled a little but held firm. Defeated, she leaned her forehead against it.
There must be an opening spell, she thought, something that keeps evil out. “Please, door, let me come in!” she whispered. “I promise I only want to help!”
The seagull landed on the open windowsill and chuckled.
“I don’t see what’s funny about this,” Caimbre said.
An offshore breeze billowed the curtains like sails, startling the seagull. “Rooc!” he squawked and threw his wings wide.
“That’s it! You’re a genius, Mr. Seagull. I’ll climb through the window!”
“Errk,” mumbled the seagull as he hopped past the curtains and into the room.
The bushes around the lighthouse looked like lace but cut like coral as she hoisted herself through the window. “Ooofff!” she grunted, falling to the floor. She ignored her scratches and bruises. “Keeper Merriweather?” she whispered.
The hearth fire was only coals, but there was enough light to see Keeper Merriweather seated at his kitchen table, his nose smashed flat in a plate of potatoes and gravy. “Keeper Merriweather!” Caimbre shouted, scrambling like a crab to his side.
“Snnnnuugghle-blaaaht,” he snored.
“Keeper Merriweather?”
“Shhhhuggngle-whannnnat.”
Caimbre lifted his face out of the gravy and laid his head gently on the tabletop.
“Mushumummble,” he said, but didn’t open his eyes.
“He’s out cold,” Caimbre said to the seagull. “It’s an enchanted sleep.”
The seagull shrugged and nibbled on the loaf of bread.
“I’ll have to light the signal fire myself.” She spotted the pile of torches. “That must be how Merriweather does it—he lights a torch and carries it up the stairs.” She plunged the tip of the longest torch into the coals and watched it flame like dragon’s breath. “I can do this.” She stumbled to the stairs. “I think.”
Gripping the torch in one hand and the railing in the other, Caimbre raised her foot to the first stair. Pain shot from her heel to her heart, skewering her like a marlin’s spike. “Oh!” She wavered, counting her heartbeats until the pain eased.
This would be so much easier if I could swim. A flick of my tail and I’d shoot through this tower faster than a shark in a feeding frenzy. She studied the turns in the stairway as it wound its way to the top. It’s like the spirals of a seashell. I’ll pretend I’m a hermit crab making my way one twist at a time.
At the forty-second stair, the world went blurry and the air turned thick. Caimbre started to panic. What if I can’t do this? It hurts too much. I should stop this madness and go back to the ocean where I belong. I could be home safe in my grotto with my tailfin on ice and a lovely mug of hot squid ink in my hands. No one would know I quit. Rory would think I tried but that the Seawitch beat me.
Caimbre hesitated, her hand lingering over her starfish necklace.
No, she thought. I would know the truth. All of this pain and hardship is only for a moment. She patted her starfish necklace through the pocket. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be wearing you soon.”
Onward she climbed, each stair piercing deep as an sea urchin’s spine into the sole of her foot.
Conquering the final stair, she didn’t stop to cheer but shakily moved past the landing. The fresh breeze ruffled her dry hair, and she gulped the air greedily into her lungs. High in the top of the lighthouse and far above any remnants of fog, the night was clear. Starshine and moonlight streamed through the windows to reflect off the big mirror next to an unlit pile of wood.
“Carah!” the seagull said, swooping through an open window to land next to the wood.
“Show-off,” Caimbre said. “Did you get enough bread, you greedy thief? That was Merriweather’s supper you ate.” She wobbled to a window. “Oh!” she breathed.
To the south of the lighthouse all of Haven Port and the harbor spread like seafoam rising to meet the castle on Nob Hill where Princess Leona slept. Turning north toward the open sea, Caimbre spotted a black cloud riding low over the water. “Pearly shells!” she spat. “The Winter Nomad is headed straight for the western shoals!” Quickly, she thrust her torch into the heart of the woodpile.
The seagull blew it out.
“What? That’s impossible!”
The seagull twitched and shook like a bowl of sea cucumbers, wobbling and bobbling until he exploded in a whirlpool of feathers.
“Aha!” cackled the Seawitch as tendrils of smoke curled around her bulbous figure. She raised a tentacle and tapped Caimbre’s nose. “Silly mermaid, did you think you could defeat me?”
“Seawitch!” Caimbre sputtered. “I should’ve known. Real seagulls have better manners.”
“Oh, my,” the Seawitch chortled. “If you could’ve seen yourself.” She batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips. “Oh, I don’t know, Rory,” she simpered, “I think I can!”
“You, you—”
“Witch?” she cackled. “You should call me queen. There’s no way the princess will get the antidote now.” She grabbed Caimbre’s arm. “Come. I’ll show you how it ends. If you behave, I’ll be kind and put you to work next to Rory in the salt mines.”
“No!” Caimbre wrenched away and swung her leg in a roundhouse kick to the Seawitch’s head.
It passed right through.
“Ooof!” Caimbre fell, the wind knocked out of her as she landed in a twisted heap next to a bucket.
“How deliciously delightful!” the Seawitch cooed. “The entire fate of the kingdom rests on a useless mermaid in a lighth
ouse tower.” She flicked a feather off her dress and onto the signal pile. “Let’s go. I don’t want to miss the look on Captain Northwind’s face when his ship crashes into the rocks. I’m done playing games with you.”
Caimbre reached into her pocket. “It was never a game, Seawitch,” she said. “But you’re still going to lose.” Tossing her starfish necklace onto the wood and looking to the night sky, she opened her mouth and sang.
A siren’s song of a sea star called to a sky star, and a spark leaped down from the heavens, igniting the wood with a whoosh. The flames licked hungrily as the signal fire blazed with the light of a thousand suns. The mirror focused the light into a beam that raced through the darkness, scattering the fogbank and revealing the Winter Nomad.
“That’s not fair!” the Seawitch said as the smell of burning feathers filled the lighthouse. “Mermaids can’t call fire!”
Caimbre smiled. But I did. Though I didn’t know I could until I tried. Bracing herself against the wooden bucket, Caimbre stood and peered out a window.
Captain Northwind wasted no time. The white sails unfurled, and the Winter Nomad raced away from the reef, sweeping past the entry buoy into the harbor. Even before the ship’s lines were secured, people began scrambling down rope ladders to waiting horses and coaches.
Caimbre clapped and bounced with glee. “They’re going to make it!” she said.
The Seawitch shrieked as she roiled and gurgled back to her seagull self. Giving herself a quick shake, she leaned forward to fly.
“Not so fast!” Caimbre reached down and tipped the wooden bucket completely over the seagull.
“SQUORK!” The bucket rattled and hopped as smoke steamed from underneath.
Caimbre sat on it. The bucket continued to shake and rock, but Caimbre just laughed. There was no way the Seawitch could escape.
Hours later when the horizon was shell-pink in the sky, the Harbor Port bell rang in jubilee, startling Keeper Merriweather awake. He thundered up the lighthouse stairs smearing gravy and mashed potatoes all along the walls. “Miss?” he asked when he reached the top.
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you, Keeper Merriweather. I’m Caimbre, a mermaid.”
“But you have legs.”
