Adam P. Brown: Manipulating selfishly—Betray the Solid Woman
The image of the scrawled writing in the omen book flashed before her mind’s eye, leaving a numb indentation of pain. Cecilia shook her head wordlessly. No. No, this could not be! Pepin said that his omen required her to fall in love with him! He had said that he himself was already in love! He had said . . .
He had manipulated her. He had manipulated her to save himself.
“Now you understand,” the Fee said, her voice a strange sibilant whisper. She sounded as distant and chilly as ever, but Cecilia heard laughter in her words.
“What am I doing here?” Cecilia persisted, her voice much stronger than her spirit felt.
The Fee smiled. “We’re rewarding you.” She swam closer until she floated only a few fin-wafts away from Cecilia. The Fee’s silver tail swished below her, gently pushing her up and down as she hovered in front of Cecilia. She smiled. “You have been terribly abused by life, have you not?” As the Fee flung her hair behind her shoulders, her face seemed to glow with righteousness. “A man you trusted betrays you for his own selfish reasons, manipulating you into believing you were saving everyone. A little boy begs you to save him, knowing full well there is nothing you can do. Your father robs us, leaving you to suffer the consequences. Your mother sickens and dies, and nobody in your village would even help dig her grave. You grew up lonely and . . .”
“Father John Francis helped,” Cecilia said, interrupting the Fee. The Fee’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Cecilia forced her chin to lift and her eyes to meet the icy gaze.
The glow faded from the Fee, and her mirthless smile returned. “The priest was only fulfilling his duty. And did your father come to the funeral? Or was he away robbing more innocent souls of their possessions?” She swished her tail, slapping a current of water at Cecilia. “That is your flaw: You believe there is good in everyone. But this is not the truth of the world.”
Cecilia opened her mouth to protest but could find no words.
The Fee nodded. “Everyone realizes it sooner or later. Your Captain Pepin has known it ever since his father threatened to murder his mother unless young Adam agreed to serve as a decoy for him in an attempt to fool us. It’s a pity you only learned it upon being used in one of our omens. You could have lived a long and prosperous life had you not been daft.”
Cecilia didn’t know how to refute this. She didn’t know if she could or if she even wanted to. The Fee had proven her statement. Everyone in Cecilia’s life had turned out rather beastly. The proud villagers, the rowdy crew, her absent father, Pepin . . .
Not Father John Francis, a voice whispered in Cecilia’s head. Not Mama.
The Fee interrupted her thoughts. “Everyone is so ugly, are they not? Always thinking of themselves, always struggling to gain more, always destroying any remnant of true beauty that flits across their narrow-minded paths. It is a tale as old as time itself, a tale of selfishness completely and utterly destroying the good.”
The Fee flicked her tail upward and lowered her head until her face drew level with Cecilia’s. “You, Cecilia Lester, are one of the few examples of goodness in existence. You trust because you choose to believe the best of people. You love because you look past the sting of ugliness to see the beauty beneath. Foolish though you are, you are still good. You deserve better than the world has given you. You deserve to punish the world for what it has done to you.”
She gestured toward the ring of Fee surrounding them and observing the conversation through ice-cold eyes. When she turned back to Cecilia, the smile on her lips made Cecilia remember (with a shudder) the day she’d watched a cat pounce on an injured bird. “Just say the word, Cecilia, and you can become one of us. You can become immortal—a force that condemns the evils of the world! You can become justice. You deserve it. Just say yes, Cecilia. Say yes and join us, your sisters.”
The Fee’s eyes glittered with . . . in any other person, Cecilia would have called the emotion portrayed in their depths “joy.” But just now her mind envisioned that cat tearing into a fledgling bird, playfully ripping feathers away as the blue wings stained scarlet.
She stepped away from the silver Fee and stared around at the others. When Cecilia first heard about the Fee, she had assumed they were demons or angels or some other supernatural being. When they surrounded her father’s ship, condemning him for his crimes, she had thought they must be angels. When she had explored the Rose and discovered the omens, she had decided they were demons.
Looking at them now, she knew they had once been like she was: human. The one with the red tail had a nose perked up a bit more than the silver one’s. The one with the green hair had smaller eyes than the Fee next to her. The lavender Fee had a larger mouth than the yellow one. Yet, they all wore the same expression. They all looked the same. Beautiful. Proud. Cruel.
If she consented to join them, would this happen to her? Would she become like them? Would she spend eternity destroying the world for destroying her?
Cecilia scowled, but nevertheless her spirit hesitated. Why was it such a repulsive idea? After all, that bird had been injured when the cat found it. The world was an ugly place. It had condemned her mother for falling in love with the wrong person, even though she had never broken any law made by God. She had been married, and it was her husband’s selfish choices that killed her. Had he stayed with her and helped her raise Cecilia, perhaps the doctor would have come instead of ostracizing her like the rest of the village did. Perhaps her mother would have been healed!
The bird would have lived had it been healed.
The silver Fee smiled encouragingly, but Cecilia saw only the anger lurking behind her perfect face. This Fee, whose name Cecilia did not know, had scoured the oceans for such a long time, long enough to become a legend, all for the sake of punishing the world. And what punishments did she inflict? Trapping men in the form of monsters, urging them to fulfill dreadful omens that could never be accomplished. She cared nothing for morality or justice or beauty. She was completely and utterly selfish.
Perhaps Cecilia’s mother would have lived had her father made better choices. Perhaps Pepin would not have become a pirate had his life been different. Perhaps the world was filled with selfish and ugly people.
Why, then, was this perfect mermaid the ugliest being Cecilia had ever seen?
“No,” Cecilia said.
A sneer replaced the Fee’s smile.
“No!” Cecilia said more firmly. “I’m not going to punish anyone. I do not wish to become a Fee. I do not wish to become like you.” She paused for a moment, breathing deep draughts of the strange water in which she stood. Would refusal mean sudden drowning? A terrible fate, but still better than that which the Fee urged her to accept. “Besides,” she continued, “I doubt you truly want me to be a Fee. You simply want to get me, the Solid Woman, out of the way. If I stay in your world, I might free some of the men. If you let me escape back to my world, I might tell others and try to return. And if you kill me, you break every vow you’ve ever made. So I wonder . . . what will you do with me now that I’ve refused? In truth, you have no option but to send me back to my world!”
The silver-haired Fee stared at her for the space of several silent heartbeats. Then she waved a hand.
A beam of light flashed through the water. Cecilia scrambled out of the way, suddenly aware of the pressure from the ocean and the slowness of her movements. The Fee waved her arm again and shot another flash toward her. Cecilia kicked and swam as fast as she could. She ran into something and her eyes opened wide. A red Fee grabbed her arms and thrust her backwards. Cecilia struggled, her eyes wide with terror, noticing the tight ring the other Fee had made around her and the silver Fee. She was trapped.
She twisted and faced the silver Fee. There was no smile of encouragement now, no spark of emotion in those eyes. Just an icy monster staring down at her like a guardian of hell, holding a writhing circle of flames in her hand.
“You should
have accepted the deal,” the Fee said, speaking in the coldly dismissive voice she had used when addressing Cecilia’s father. “Now you are no better than the rest of the world. Being separate, like us, is the only way to fix the sin. You cannot sympathize with them. You cannot love them. They don’t deserve it.”
The Fee raised her arm, the fiery ring burning in the water, reflecting all around Cecilia until she could see nothing but flames. Cecilia wanted to close her eyes, but she forced her lids to remain open. She would die bravely. She would die knowing she had made the right decision. Her mother would be proud. They would be together soon.
When the flash came, Cecilia gasped and her eyes shut.
But she felt no pain. Nothing burned. She felt water around her and the stares of the other Fee.
She opened her eyes and staggered back. A man with bright red hair and a tricorn hat stood with his back to her, shielding her from the Fee. His outstretched arm held a cutlass to the silver Fee’s throat.
Looking completely stunned, the Fee dropped the fiery ring, and its flames extinguished. Her silver eyes were wide with shock before slowly fading back to their usual aloofness. “Mr. Brown,” the Fee said. “Are you unhappy with your humanity?”
“Oui, Madame!” Pepin replied in his familiar drawl. “I’ve found it doesn’t suit me at all. I’d like a refund.”
Chapter 11
THE FEE SMILED, though it looked more like a snarl. “Your power was gone. You spent it saving that defiant child. You were dying. You would like to die, Mr. Brown?”
Pepin’s voice lost its mockery. “If that is what I must do to save Mademoiselle Lester . . . yes.”
“You cannot save her!” the silver Fee cried. She swished her tail, pushing herself higher than Pepin, away from his sword. “Fate is decided by the individual. Miss Lester has already chosen her path, and she has chosen the path of destruction.” She growled savagely down at Cecilia.
Pepin lifted the cutlass to point once more at the Fee’s neck. “Let her go. Take me instead.”
All of the watching Fee went still. The silver Fee gazed upon Pepin, her expression empty but for the slight quirk in her brow. Cecilia became aware of the pressure of the water, the pounding of her heart, and the unaccountable truth that was life. She did not wish to die. She just wanted to go home . . . though she hardly knew where home was anymore.
The Fee’s smirk slowly returned. “You never fail to perplex us. Very well, Mr. Brown. Your request has been noted.”
She flicked her hand. The other Fee swarmed forward, grasping and tugging at Pepin. Pepin swung his cutlass, but it was sluggish and useless in the water. The Fee wrenched it out of his hand and flung it beyond the silver Fee, where, with a final glint of steel in the wavering light, it fell out of sight.
Cecilia kicked forward, trying to grab Pepin, but was jerked backwards. She clawed and struggled against the Fee holding her, scratching and kicking at any flesh or fin she could find. The Fee hissed in her ear. A shock pulsed through her body, forcing her to be still. She could move nothing except for her eyes. Her hair, which had come undone from its knot during the fight, floated over her face, blocking her view.
She heard the Fee shrieking and Pepin yelling. Then he too fell silent. That silence was like a heavy stone plummeting in Cecilia’s heart. The Fee gripping Cecilia tugged the dark hair out of her eyes and used it to painfully jerk her head backwards, so that she had a clear view of the silver Fee floating above the mayhem below.
“You ask for Miss Lester’s . . . salvation.” The Fee hissed the word like a taunt. “I repeat that fate lies within the individual, not within any outside force. Therefore, I will allow Miss Lester a choice.”
She waved her hand toward Pepin, and the mirror wafted from inside his coat to her hand, cutting through the water. The Fee pointed the mirror’s glass toward Cecilia, and an orb of light appeared in the center of the circle formed by the Fee, causing their light to fade. It glowed softly golden, like the glimmer of the distant chandelier. Despite the pain in her neck, despite her dire predicament, Cecilia felt safe while staring at the orb, as if she were gazing into the eye of a friend.
“This will take you to safety,” the silver Fee said. “You will be in your own world. You need never think of this one, or its inhabitants, again. You have earned this.”
Cecilia felt the Fee release her hair. She half-floated, half-walked forward, the shock leaving her body, her gaze focused wholly on the friendly, beautiful orb. The light flickered playfully as she neared it. Just as Cecilia reached out her hand, she saw a flash of red in her peripheral vision and abruptly came to herself.
She spun and faced the silver Fee, though her gaze fixed instead on Pepin, who was locked in struggle with two other Fee, one of which had a hand clamped over his mouth, disabling speech. His long orange-red hair floated around his face, bright, alarming, and stark, even more eye-catching than the tail of the silver Fee who floated directly above him. But his shockingly blue eyes shone more than anything, brighter than his hair, brighter than the Fee, and brighter even than the orb.
He met Cecilia’s gaze. And then he winked. As though with that single gesture he could tell her that everything was all right, that she should go, that this was all one great lark.
“You said I had a choice,” Cecilia said. “This is but one option.”
“Our previous offer stands,” the silver Fee replied.
Cecilia snapped her gaze away from Pepin’s and stared into the stony face of the Fee. “And what of Captain Pepin?”
“Mr. Brown has now twice crossed us. He will not be shown mercy.”
“A sentiment you are incapable of extending!” Cecilia spat.
The assembled Fee stiffened, and she heard their muttered hisses. She pressed on, advancing slowly toward the silver Fee, kicking herself higher. Her skirts billowed around her but did not impede her movements.
“You claim to abhor sin, and yet you agree to kill him in exchange for me. Shouldn’t you reward him for his bravery? For his self-sacrifice? And as to crossing you twice, he actually fulfilled his omen! He betrayed me.” Cecilia swam above Pepin now, though she kept her gaze locked on the silver Fee, pointing at her.
“Your omens are wicked! Sin will not redeem sin. I know this better than anyone, as you so reminded me a few minutes ago. The cruelty of my neighbors did not induce me to abandon my mother, but to stand by her. Your omens will fix nothing, and I think you know that. You create them out of spite, never intending to help or instruct. Your motive is hatred, not love. I reject everything you stand for. You sicken me. I will not be like you. I will never become a Fee!”
The Fee’s eyes flashed. “So you have said before. Why do you continue to mock us? We are gracing you with mercy because of your goodness. Go through the orb!”
“I will,” Cecilia said.
With those words, she made a last lunge through the water and drew level with the Fee. This time she did not underestimate the silver Fee’s strength. This time she knew very well the powerful grip the Fee would have upon the mirror. So, this time when she caught hold of that diamond-studded frame, she simultaneously brought both her feet up and kicked off against the Fee’s stomach.
The creature gasped in surprise and pain, doubling over even as Cecilia, the mirror clutched to her heart, sped back down toward Pepin and the orb. The two Fee holding Pepin, startled by the turn of events, loosened their hold just enough that Pepin struggled free, elbowing one captor in the face and flipping the other upside-down.
Cecilia grabbed him by the arm, and they swam, kicking and flailing, toward the orb. Then its light surrounded them. They spun around and around, and the water pressed against them, and all of the Fee screamed and cursed as though the water were hellfire.
Cecilia’s hair and gown suddenly weighed far more, and she fell onto the ground in a puddle of the water streaming from her clothes. The mirror clattered on wooden boards beside her.
Pepin was human. The hands clenched in front of h
im were human. The arms attached to them were flesh-colored and freckled. The lock of hair falling in front of his eyes was red. He was human.
Why did the fact of his humanity feel wrong? Ah yes. If he were back in the Fee’s netherworld he would be dead, not human. Or maybe he would be a dead human. But being a dead human rather than a dead monster would hardly be an improvement. Dead was dead. But he wasn’t dead, at least, not yet.
How was he alive? Unclenching his fists, Pepin pushed himself off the ground and stared at his surroundings. Cecilia sat on the floor, coughing and spluttering and sopping wet, the mirror on the floor beside her. They were back in that miserable shack atop the stony island. But what was different? It looked different.
Light. It wasn’t gray anymore. Light filtered through the cracks in the sagging boards above his head, and light shone through the open doorway, which revealed a brilliant blue Caribbean unmarred by fog or blackness or Fee. Pepin’s breathing felt lighter. They were out of the netherworld. They had returned to the real world. But how?
The Fee had said the orb would return Cecilia to her world, and when she dragged him along with her, they had returned there together. But something else was wrong here: the mirror.
He racked his memory, thinking through all of those horrid conversations with his father, scathing and useless save for the information the old man had provided about the Fee. If light touched the mirror, the Fee could sense it. If the mirror was on the sea, the Fee could go to it. But never, never, could the mirror travel out of the netherworld and appear on solid ground in the real world. His father had been very clear on this point. When traveling from the Fee’s realm to the world, it had to appear on the sea.
Yet here it was. So much for never. And now he understood why he wasn’t dead, why the Fee did not even now appear and drag both him and Cecilia back to their realm. While the Fee could travel anywhere in their own world, even on land, Pepin and Cecilia were no longer in the realm of the Fee. This cabin must exist both in the netherworld and the real world. Pepin and Cecilia and the mirror were back in the real world, on solid ground, and the Fee could not reach them here.
Five Enchanted Roses: A Collection of Beauty and the Beast Stories Page 8
