Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "I hope that's a promise, young man," the Sea King said, a little crossly.

  Schrodinger chuckled. "So what? If William is out there, you get rid of her und me in one fell swoop."

  "Schrodinger!" Harkonnen hissed.

  The catfish boy meowed, but otherwise didn't act like he heard.

  "Well, I guess there's just one problem left," the Sea King said.

  "And what's that, Your Majesty?" Harkonnen asked.

  "How much I know you'll miss her."

  Harkonnen widened his eyes in surprise.

  The Sea King's trident glowed, and he slowly lowered it to the water. A glowing beam of water traveled to Sera's legs and enveloped them. She looked down curiously, and then, seeing what was happening, she smiled joyously at the Sea King and Harkonnen. They and Schrodinger all smiled at her.

  As the sun emerged from the clouds, Pip awoke, and was greeted to the sight of William walking toward him, smiling.

  He was stunned until he heard her sing. Her voice had never sounded as radiant, even to her own ears.

  Now we can walk!

  Now we can run!

  Now we can stay all day in the sun!

  He grinned widely, and limped toward her. William' eyes widened and she rushed the rest of the way to him, in concern. She grinned, expecting him to greet her. Instead, he lifted her into his arms and spun her around. She squealed and then laughed, but before she could say anything more he captured her lips in a kiss.

  She melted into it, and knew from then on that her heart would float happily until its ascent into the heavens.

  The sound of laughter and singing drew first the servants, then the master and mistress out of the castle.

  Now we can walk!

  Now we can run!

  Now we can stay all day in the sun!

  They emerged to the sight of Captain Bernadotte, still tall and dressed in coarse fabrics that hung off his skin like a scarecrow, and still so weak from his illness that he threatened to buckle in on himself with every step. Despite his weakness and wobbliness, he was laughing and swinging William around. She was as ethereally beautiful as they remembered, but even more so for one reason: she was smiling. Her sea-blue eyes were shining and her smile was as radiant as the sun. She had been so unhappy for so long that most of them could only remember seeing her look beautiful but sad, wistful, and forlorn.

  Captain Bernadotte wobbled and nearly collapsed, leaning on William for support—then they both laughed.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him joyfully, and playfully pushed his hat up with her hands.

  Wandering free…

  Just you and me…

  And I can be…

  Part of your world!

  Walter and Carlotta ran up to them, and William smiled and embraced them as family.

  Her smile receeded when the Count and Countess approached, and she suddenly looked shy and timid. Seeing her look nervous, Captain Bernadotte twined his fingers with hers, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She smiled up at him, then timidly approached her old master and mistress.

  Neither he nor she spoke.

  Finally, Countess Richard embraced her. "William Hanna! We are so pleased to see you."

  William tensed when the countess embraced her like a sister. Even though she no longer pined for his heart, she could still remember how the countess had been her rival in love not too long ago.

  Richard withdrew and brushed her hair out of her eyes affectionately. "We thought you had perished."

  "I-I didn't," William squeaked.

  What was wrong with her? She'd longed for a voice to speak to them for so long, but now that she had it she was almost afraid to speak. They'd known her as a mute for so long, and now they could hear her voice for the first time, and judge her every word. What could she say?

  She was made even more nervous by the fact that her master neither smiled nor spoke.

  Richard nodded, and backed up so she was once again standing beside her husband.

  He just stared at William very intently for a long time. Finally, she felt compelled to speak.

  "Hi! It's really good to see you again, master," she said.

  Still, his lips still didn't move. Noticing something on them, William said, "Um, you seem to have grown a moustache, master."

  Still, he was silent.

  She traced her finger over her upper lip. "The… mustache."

  Finally, he stepped forward and reached out a hand. William gasped and closed her eyes. She then opened her eyes to find her master affectionately petting her head, like she was a child, or a small dog.

  His eyes were filled with warmth and loving kindness, and his smile was one of the few she'd ever seen that was without cockiness or arrogance. Pure love and affection radiated from his every feature.

  "Yes, William," he smiled, and his accent had never been so deep, rich, or lovely to her. "My William Hanna."

  William smiled and stood up straight, and she and her master regarded each other with mutual, confident affection.

  Captain Bernadotte coughed. "Perhaps we shall move this inside, shall we? It's getting hot."

  "I agree," Countess Richard said, "I'll have Walter make us some tea."

  In the tea room, where the Count and William had once had their tea together for so many months, but were now joined by two new people they were in love with, they all sat awkwardly while William stared at the table.

  "I've prepared it just the way you like it," Walter said, smiling, as he handed her her cup.

  "Thank you," she said with genuine warmth and gratitude.

  "I've seen to it that Louis is making your favorite now," Carlotta said, "Stuffed crab!"

  William smiled, remembering how she'd once wondered why they bothered to stuff the crab when crabs were already stuffed into their shells. "Thank you," she said with equal gratitude.

  "So tell us," Richard said. "How did you… how did you get to be the way you are?"

  William clutched the tablecloth. "I was afraid you'd ask that," she said.

  She proceeded to tell them her whole story from under the sea, at least the parts that seemed relevant to her. She left out the parts about her mooning over the Count like a star-struck little girl—making it sound like she was just mildly interested in him from a distance, and wished to join the human world as her main motivation. She also avoided using terms like "mermaid" and "merpeople," because she was still half-convinced they would think her stupid for saying it, even though they saw her for what she was.

  "So you are really…?" Richard asked, unable to bring herself to say it out loud.

  "Yes," William said. "I am… from a race of people who live below the sea…"

  She looked so distressed that Pip twined his fingers with hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. William smiled at him very tenderly, and drew strength from his support. Richard's sharp eyes pierced their held hands, but otherwise she said nothing.

  "It was stupid, I know," she said quietly, "Making a deal with a sea witch like that…"

  "Oh, mon cher," Pip said tenderly, "If you hadn't, then you never would have joined us."

  "Ah… oh…"

  The men were uncharacteristically quiet now, which confused William greatly. Usually in mixed company the men tended to dominate the conversation, while well-trained "ladies of breeding" rarely spoke except when spoken to, or chimed in with an agreement or a question. She didn't know it, but they'd spent so long wondering what mute William would sound like and what she would say if she could talk, that they latched onto her every word now. Captain Bernadotte had that absent adoring smile most men wore when they were listening to the woman they loved, and the Count just absorbed everything she said without giving a hint as to his true feelings or thoughts.

  William, who was used to listening to people talk around her, was mildly confused and perturbed by the uncharacteristic silence, and was just talking to fill the silence.

  "So you really are…?" Richard asked
, but could not bring even herself to say it out loud.

  "Yes," William said. "I am… from a race of people who live below the sea."

  "And you always have been?"

  "Yes, from my father and mother before me." Thinking about them made her sad, so William said, "When I was little, my mother told me so much of the world beyond the sea. When she did… when the ocean took her from me… I didn't want to live in the sea anymore. I wanted to go to the surface, where the sun and the moon shined and the birds sang all the time. I wanted…"

  "Why didn't you tell us?" Richard asked, before her husband could utter the same.

  William looked like a fish grilled upon the flames, and she shrank back from the heat of their stairs. "I thought that… I was told a human's gaze was agony for a mermaid…"

  The men snorted, Richard scoffed.

  "Agony?"

  "We looked at you every day before."

  "It's not like that!" William exclaimed, cheeks flushed. "I mean, I was told that when a human looks upon you and sees you for what you really are, the gaze is smoldering from a mermaid, and you feel like your blood is being boiled alive, and your skin scorched at the same time. I was told a human's gaze would bring nothing but a smoldering death. I didn't want that…"

  The Count snorted, speaking up for the first time. "Then whoever told you this lied to you."

  William gulped. "Master…"

  "I guessed you were as much the morning you came to me. I saw there was a newness about you—the way you walked, the way you moved, tilted your head, all as if they were the first movements of a newborn child. I said as much to Captain Bernadotte, and Walter. I said, 'If she were born this morning, I would be surprised if she were as old.'"

  "Yes, you did say that, Sir," Walter said.

  William was dumbfounded. He knew… he guessed what she was? As early as that?

  "Then why didn't you say anything?!" she blurted out, her eyes as big as plates.

  The Count shrugged. "I was waiting for you to tell me yourself, when you were ready." He looked into her eyes from beneath his bangs, and his eye pierced hers. "Evidently, you never were."

  William felt completely deflated. If she were underwater, she would drift softly to the sea bottom, and rest there like a strand of kelp. He knew…? He knew…?!

  "It was your song that brought me from the brink," the Count said. " 'The song of the sea…' "

  "I heard it too," Lady Richard said. "T'was your song that brought me from my school down to the beach. If it were not for you, we would never have met. He would have been drowned, and I would never have found love…"

  She folded her hands in his, and smiled kindly at William. "We owe our happiness to you."

  Even though her heart no longer longed for the Count's, it could not help feeling a little wounded hearing that. Like an old bruise that was still healing, but was just struck anew. It could no longer hurt her as it did before, but it still stung. A lifetime of longing and regret that could have been hers had she just confessed when she could sailed by her in the blink of an eye, off to a distant future that would never come to pass.

  Captain Bernadotte laughed. "Don't tell me you are upset to hear that?!" He grinned, half-joking.

  "N-no!" William said. "It's not that, it just hurts knowing you're not the one."

  "Tell me about it," Pip grinned, flicking his cinnamon stick away. "I waited months for you to notice me."

  William flushed. "You-you noticed me?"

  He burst out laughing. Long and loud, but still loving and good-natured. When he finally got a hold of himself, he grinned and rubbed his cheek against her forehead. " 'Did I notice her,' she asks? Does a frog not notice a princess who comes to his well? Does a giant not smell the smell of an Englishman that has entered his castle? Does a wolf…"

  "Please refrain from using any more analogies," Lady Richard said primly.

  He laughed. "Ay, ay, man!"

  "But," William cried, clinging to him as though for dear life, like his words were the air she needed to breathe life. "But how?"

  His smile softened, and his eyes filled with love—although his disposition was still mischievous.

  "Did you think I did not notice the little mermaid who climbed the side of our merry little boat," he said, eye twinkling.

  William suddenly felt hot and red all over, and she had trouble breathing. Oh, this… not this…

  Vaguely, she could hear the Count sound annoyed that there was information he was not in on, and he demanded to know what mermaid on the deck.

  While William struggled to keep her breathing calm and even, Captain Bernadotte explained how, the night of the fireworks display the Count had hoped to woo Richard with, he had felt a whim to look over the deck and chanced to spy what looked like a pale little girl with large blue eyes and a shimmering fish's tail squeak and let go of the bulwarks and fall into the water. He had wondered if he had been seeing things, and knew better than to tell the Count or the crew since most of them would never believe him. Apart from the kooky old man, most of them didn't truly believe in merpeople.

  "Besides," he grinned, leaning back to wink at William, "Most of my crew would like to mock me because of that gypsy prophecy, 'A mermaid will sing for thee.'"

  William grinned, and closed her eyes.

  "Will you not sing for us now?" Lady Richard said.

  William balked.

  "She just got her voice back, let her recover," the men said.

  William felt both relieved not to perform when she was not ready, and disappointed that she could not show off.

  "So, wait," she asked Mr. Bernadotte. "You really knew it was me the whole time? Exactly me?"

  "Eh, not exactly," he said carelessly, pulling out a cigarette to smoke, but ceasing when he saw Richard glare at him.

  "But I suspected, for a long time. There was that little moon nymph who fell from the side of the ship. Then, when the ship went down in flames, I too was tangled in some cargo that would have dragged me down. Then there was the little girl who glided in the water, silent as a specter, who cut my bonds and pulled me to the surface so that I might breathe."

  His mischievous eyes caught hers. "I would have believed her to be a ghost, had I not felt her firm grasp on me."

  William flushed furiously. So he had seen her. She had gone around helping random humans drowning in her haste to get to the Count, but she had hardly stopped to notice them. For her, it was a single moment in time, cutting a man loose and then pushing him up to the surface. Not only did it floor her to k now that that man was Captain Bernadotte (she had not even noticed before), but that while she had forgotten he had remembered, and he had been grateful and loved her for it since.

  'Small world after all,' she thought.

  She forced herself to look up, and met his smile.

  He laced his fingers around hers again. "Whoever knew the little river nymph who hid in the bushes when she brought the dogs barking would be sitting with us now, reminiscing all the ways she saved our lives?"

  William was started, especially by the Count and Countess' reaction.

  Countess Richard was unusually reverent. "It seems we all owe you our lives."

  "N-no! That's not necessary!" William exclaimed. "That is—I just want to be part of your world. That's it. That's all I want. I don't want anything else.

  Pip grinned, and laced his fingers around hers again. "Not even to be with me."

  "No! Of course I want to be with you!" William cried, and she addressed the Count and Countess. "I want to marry Mr. Bernadotte."

  Their eyes widened. They were silent for the first time in their lives.

  Captain Bernadotte laughed and laughed. "That is an unusual marriage proposal."

  "It's true!" William cried, turning to look up at him, earnestly. "You're the only one I want. You've been so kind to me for so long. When I was ready to give up on the world, I…" she did not want to look back at the state of misery she felt during the Count and Countess' courtship a
nd wedding preparations. "I just want to be with you. See the world. Travel, if you're able. I want to see anything and everything this world of yours has to offer, if you would see it with me. I…"

  "I do," he said fondly, and leaned down to kiss her.

  When his lips met hers, it felt like a wedding vow all its own, and William' heart melted, and she felt herself a changed girl from head to heel.

  Countess Richard scowled and tutted. "Ah! Ah! None of that!"

  They pulled away from each other with a bit of difficulty, hearts still a glow from the loving gesture they just shared.

  Richard cleared her throat sternly. "Now, I know you are very… eager to be re-acquainted, but there will be plenty of time for later. In the meantime, I'm sure you'll want plenty of rest. We'll have your old room ready to move back into."

  "Actually, I don't want to move back," William said.

  The ease of her words shocked even her.

  "I'm sorry, but, master…" she took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes. "You were my whole world for so long, but I was only a small part of yours. I don't want to stay in here doing what you want for the rest of my life. I want to see the world—truly—and I want to be with someone who loves me as much as I… as I love him…"

  She looked down. It felt stupid to say that out loud.

  Captain Bernadotte twined his fingers in hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze, and she looked up at him, so full of joy she felt she could cry.

  Max's own eyes filled with pain, and a bit of jealousy. He saw that the way she looked at Captain Bernadotte was the way she used to look at him, and she would never look at him that way anymore. While Richard would always be first and foremost in his heart, in his own way he had genuinely loved William (if just as a daughter or a ward, rather than a wife or lover), and seeing her love someone else, want to be with someone else, more than him was painful. While he would never admit it, he would also miss her when she was gone.

  However, he was not so cruel as to deny the one thing that gave her happiness when she told him so openly.

  "Very well," he said, leaning back in his chair, and hiding his eyes behind his dark, curly bangs.