Parting Worlds - A Little Mermaid Retelling (Once Upon a Curse Book 4)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  I stand on shaky legs, woozy and adrift. I'm not sure where I'm going, but the urge to flee is too overwhelming. My feet move. My arms pump. I'm running and sobbing and stumbling, going, going, going, as though the moment I stop will be my last, as though running is the only thing keeping me alive. I've lost Erick. I've lost Nymia. I've lost the world I knew. I've lost everything. Even the sunlight seems to bounce off my skin, swerving around it like a river to a rock, not quite touching, leaving me cold. It's a warm day, but I shiver from an ice that's bone deep. Goose bumps rise along my arms.

  Fields give way to forests.

  Flat plains turn to hills.

  Buildings and structures so foreign to me I can’t even fathom a name for them stream in and out of view, some so tall they block the sun, some in tattered pieces across the ground, most overgrown with moss and shrubs, made of sharp shards, crumbled stone, and warped metal.

  A roar thunders down from above.

  I jump and turn my face to the sky. Something soars among the clouds, smooth and gray, with wings that don't flap, leaving a white trail across the blue sky.

  I keep running.

  I keep going.

  I don't stop.

  A village appears over the next horizon, spotted with houses made of stone and wood, still strange, but with an aura of the familiar. Just beyond it, blue water glitters in the sun, stretching as far as the eye can see. It makes me think of Erick, of our cottage by the sea, of the dreams we never got a chance to see come true.

  I race toward it, lured by a fool's hope he'll be there waiting for me.

  Instead, I find a little girl playing alone in a vacant cobblestone street, skipping from rock to rock with a small smile across her lips, blonde curls swirling in her face with the breeze, a red flower clutched in one hand. When she glances up to look at me, I skid to a halt, nearly falling over and slamming into the street, as a memory floods my mind.

  Nymia, all golden wisps and cornflower eyes, triumphantly displaying my stolen peony in her palm while I stood, much as I do now, breathless and dazed with an undeniable sense that nothing would ever be the same.

  Before that moment, we'd been strangers.

  After it, best friends.

  Then sisters.

  And now…

  I swallow, blinking the vision away as my stomach coils. The little girl narrows her eyes, staring at me warily.

  "Hello," I murmur, kneeling to her level. "What's your name?"

  She stares at me.

  And stares.

  And stares.

  Until finally, she screams, a terrified, piercing sound loud enough to rattle the stars aflame on the other side of the world.

  "I won't hurt you," I hasten to say.

  She keeps shrieking.

  "I'm a good faerie," I mutter, unsure of what she's seen, of who's good in this world, who's bad, and who she's learned to fear. "See?"

  Shooting my magic beneath the stones, I touch the earth below and call a field of flowers from the dirt. Green stalks rise through cracks in the street, blossoming in an instant, until we're surrounded by a rainbow of bright colors.

  She cries harder.

  "No, no," I mumble, reaching out with the wind, calling butterflies closer. I used to love to run through the fields with their iridescent wings fluttering in the air around me, thrumming to a beat I could feel in my soul, flashing with the sparkle of the Mother.

  The girl quiets and turns her face, lifting her palm to the sky as an orange monarch lands on the very tips of her fingers. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she eyes me again.

  I smile encouragingly.

  Just as the edge of her lip twitches, another shriek shatters the air. A woman runs out from a house, snatches the girl into her arms, and yells at me with words I don’t understand. Faces appear in windows, watching us from inside the homes. Then a screech scratches up my spine, not human, though definitely man-made. I spin to find one of those metal carriages skidding to a halt at my back. A man emerges, shouting, with an odd metal cylinder propped between his palms.

  Another skid.

  Another shriek.

  Two more carriages pull up on either side of me, and more humans turn to me, hate in their eyes, some odd weapon in their fingers, screaming in a language I can’t decipher. They don't go near the flowers. They stare at the meadow around me with potent fear. They stare at me with potent fear. When I move forward, the man before me gestures with his arms, a threat alive in his eyes, that odd invention pointed at me like a third eye, ominous and foreboding.

  I take another step, unsure.

  He stretches his arm overhead and bam!

  I stumble back as the sound echoes in my ears, impossibly loud, making my mind ring and my heart race. He does it again and I trip over my feet as I try to get away. The end of his metal weapon smokes. I taste the burn on the air and turn.

  Another human.

  I spin.

  And another.

  And another.

  No matter where I look, they’re closing in. My skin still vibrates with the explosion, leaving me shaky and afraid. For a moment, I wonder what I have left to fight for. I wonder, horribly, if it might be better to sit here and wait for the end. I wonder if it's what I deserve.

  Then a rainbow shimmer catches my eye.

  Water slithers between the cracks in the stones, joining into a pool by my feet, subtle enough the humans don't realize, glistening with magic they can't see. I remember the night in the forest, when I thought I was alone and trapped with no way out until Nymia came for me. I remember holding her hand as we leapt together from the tree, surrounded in shadow before disappearing into the vortex. She'd been there the whole time—watching and waiting.

  It’s a new world, a new life, but still, my sister came for me.

  It's Nymia.

  It must be.

  I hold onto that belief as I glance back up into screaming human faces, lift my toe from the ground, and dip it into the portal. I hold onto her as I disappear into the unknown.

  The first thing I sense is the warm, damp air—slightly musty and humid, the last thing I'd expect from the mountain perch I saw Nymia sitting upon. Grasses laced with an undercurrent of magic scratch my palm instead of snow. And it's still. No wind. No breeze.

  I blink, trying to focus.

  A soft golden light fills the space. It takes a few moments for me to recognize the faerie glow—a little bit of sunlight gifted from the Mother. As my eyes adjust, I notice a cavern hangs overhead instead of open sky, moist stones that glisten as they catch the light. I sit up, marveling as my fingers graze petals infused with faerie souls, unsure how a meadow of magic flowers came to exist underground, hidden away and secured, brimming with life.

  Where am I?

  Where's Nymia?

  How—

  Everything about me goes still when I see a man standing at the edge of the light, draped in shadow, just out of reach. My heart pounds in my chest—not from fear, but from misguided hope. He's tall and thin, with wide shoulders that narrow to tapered hips. I can't see his features, but dark shadows of hair curl around his face. His stance—a little hesitant and unsure, but with a curious air, leaning the slightest bit closer—is undeniably familiar.

  I don’t move.

  I can't.

  It's not possible. I know it's not possible. Too much time has passed. Too much has changed. The world has spun in so many circles it must've made me dizzy while I rested alone in the dark. I've gone mad.

  But when he takes a step forward, crossing into the light, it's Erick. His face is leaner and more chiseled than I remember, empty of the boyish charm it once held. Now he's a full-grown man, with the hint of stubble along his cheeks and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He's aged, but only by a few years. Yet when I meet his gaze, there's a depth I can't comprehend. His eyes churn with years, decades, maybe even centuries of lonely awareness, lit by an anticipation so bright I know there's a bottomless pit of heartache behind it.
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  He walks tentatively forward, holding my gaze the entire time. The faerie glow, I notice, drops to bob in the air above his head, tied to him. The tall grasses of the meadow part when he approaches, carving a path to me, as though attuned to his steps. He exudes power. The air thickens with it, so saturated with magic I can hardly breathe when he stops before me and kneels to my level. I don't move as he lifts his palm and reaches for my face, pausing just short of my cheek, watching me with a question in his eyes, as though he isn't sure if I forgive him for some mistake I don't remember him making.

  "Aerewyn?"

  I tremble as his voice washes over me like a warm misty rain, making my entire body tingle. The deep timbre echoes off the cavern walls, lingering in the silence, quieter and quieter and quieter, until it disappears into our soft breathing. My name—he knows my real name. And I don't think it's ever sounded sweeter than it did right then, rolling off his lips.

  Is this a trick?

  Another trap?

  If it is, I'm caught.

  My mouth parts, ready to speak, but a scorching fire barrels up my throat, blocking the sound—the binds of a faerie oath I made a lifetime ago.

  Still, I don't quite believe this can be real.

  Erick widens his eyes with a spark of recollection as the pain makes me wince. He closes the gap between us, pressing his warm palm to my cheek and digging the tips of his fingers into my hair. I melt into his touch and lift my hand to his, holding him against me.

  Is this real? I ask through the bond, remembering that first night in our cave, and the words he said to me when he woke to find me sitting over him, watching down from above.

  A smile spreads slowly across his face, breaking like a new dawn, pushing all the dark hollows away. "Yes," he whispers, a quiver in his voice. "Yes, Aeri. This is real."

  How? I close my eyes and lean into him until our foreheads touch. His breath tickles my skin like a soft caress, tangible and true. Deep down, I sense the shift within his soul. He's no longer the boy I fell in love with. His spirit tastes as natural and sweet as that of a faerie, but he's not. He's something else, something hovering in between. The Mother's fire burns in his heart. The Father's stardust sprinkles his soul. He's immortal, and magic, and still, underneath it all, a little bit human. How are you here, Erick? How are you alive?

  He sighs, a mix of pure joy and bone-deep exhaustion. "It's a long story."

  Good, I tease as the corner of my lip tugs up. As you know, those are my favorite kind.

  I sense his laugh more than hear it and pull back, opening my eyes again to stare into his, not quite convinced he won't disappear at any moment. "It will be easier to show you, if you'll let me."

  I know what he means, and I'm surprised he even asks. We've shared our memories—our lives and our histories and our secrets. But that was before. Now, there's a subtle thread of doubt stretched between us, a slightly awkward air. I don't know if it's me, afraid of how long ago I left him, worried that his feelings have changed when mine still feel as strong as the day we said goodbye. Maybe it's him, frightened what I'll think of the powerful person he's become, unused to my company, unused to me after what I know must've been so many years apart. More likely, it's both of us, hesitantly walking new ground, tentative and cautious in case our next step goes wrong, wondering how we can get back to the path we strayed from.

  Erick searches my eyes for permission.

  With a swallow, I nod.

  As rainbow highlights blossom in the centers of his irises, the fingertips against my skull grow warm. My mind fuzzes. My thoughts blur. I drift, not quite present, not quite asleep as my eyes turn inward and I see not into the world, but through a window to the past.

  "Aeri!" I scream, voice deep and panicked as I lean over the edge of the stone wall, reaching down toward my love. Her red hair shines silver in the moonlight. Her skin glistens like the stars. Fear slices like hot iron in the center of her eyes as she stares up at me, and deep down, dread opens like a pit inside my heart. "Aeri!"

  She can't speak. I know she can't, but still, I silently plead for her to explain the sudden shift in her eyes. I crane over the edge, stones digging into the underside of my arm, trying to close the few desperate inches that separate us.

  In a defiant surge of strength, she leaps, sliding her fingers around mine, and I grasp tightly, holding her weight. My arm burns as I try to tug her up, but she hangs there like dead weight, not even trying to climb. Defeat darkens her eyes.

  I love you, she whispers across my mind.

  Everything clicks into place.

  "No!" I shout, realizing what she means. Her magic is nature. Her magic is life. Her magic is being ripped away before my very eyes and she with it. "No!"

  It's too late.

  Her legs are already turning green, shrinking and fading, blending into the wall as vines replace her slim calves and foliage climbs up her torso, molding her into the stone. Aeri smiles, a sad and sorry curve that makes my heart pinch. Still, I hold onto her fingers. I won't let go. I refuse.

  "Aeri," I cry, my voice unrecognizable, a broken, shattered thing. "No. Don't leave me. Don't go."

  She doesn't want to leave. I know that much. But like me, she's helpless to the spell. I don't want this magic raging beneath my skin. I want to tear it out and give it to her, but I don't know how. I want to bottle up the golden power floating across the garden, flooding into a human girl, but I can't. I want to hold onto her forever, but her fingers turn to leaves beneath my skin. Those beautiful eyes vanish.

  She disappears.

  Fury turns my vision red—anger and heartache and pain unlike anything I've ever felt before. It's different from losing my mother, different from missing my grandfather. It's raw and ripped open. I'm a man flayed by my own mistakes. Everything that happened tonight was my fault. I should've known we were being watched. I should've never taken her to the garden. I should've sensed my father in the woods. If I hadn't been so caught up in thoughts of freedom and forever, I would have.

  A thorn carves into my palm, drawing blood.

  I stare at the crimson bead, watching it spread, a thick stain dripping across the flat surface of an evergreen leaf, glistening along the smooth edge.

  I may be human, but I'm not helpless.

  Not anymore. Not ever again.

  The power within me stirs, renewed by my determination, aching to be used and released back out into the world where it belongs, buzzing like a foreign soul trapped inside my skin. I don't know if Aeri can hear me. I don't know if she's dead and gone and never coming back.

  But I have to believe this isn’t the end.

  After everything we've been through, it can't be.

  "I'll fix this," I vow to the rose blooming in my palm, unfurling beneath the moon, ripe with faerie immortality. "Whatever I have to do, I'll find a way to fix this. To save you. To save them. I promise."

  I don't know how long I lie there, grasping for the woman I know is gone. My thoughts blur. All I know is one minute, I'm crying, tears falling like rain onto the dazzling petals of her soul, and the next, I'm racing through the forest.

  Another blink and I'm at the cave.

  Another blink and I'm through the spot where I know a magic wall once stood.

  Another and I'm standing in a clearing I've seen only in memories that don't truly belong to me. A ring of fire still blazes in the center, but it’s the only thing that looks the same. The sacred meadow Aeri shared with me was colored gold from happiness, buzzing with life and glimmering with magic, a thing of beauty. These grounds are vacant and hollow, lifeless and twisted.

  "Hello!" I shout, cupping my hands around my lips. My voice echoes through the trees, carried by the wind. It's met with deafening silence. "Hello!" I try again. "Is anyone there? I want to help you. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I just want to help. I'll do whatever I can."

  Snide laughter breaks the quiet, then trails off into wet, gurgling coughs that reek of mortality.

>   I spin.

  A body moves within the shadows, wriggling on the ground, pale skin barely illuminated by moonlight. Still, I'd recognize him anywhere. He is, after all, my father.

  "Come here, boy." Magic laces the words, fueled with command. For some reason, it makes me sad. I would've come to kneel by his side without being ordered, but maybe that's the very reason we've never gotten along. Our spirits don't speak the same language. They never have.

  "Father," I whisper as I drop to my knees by his side, catching the gruesome gleam of blood seeping from a wound in his chest, leaking through his fingers even as he tries to hold it in. He deserves it, I know, yet a part of me is still sorry. For some foolish reason, I always thought he'd live long enough to redeem himself. But even now, from that crooked smile lining his lips, I can tell he feels cheated by death. In his own twisted mind, he's the fallen hero, not the slain dragon. "What happened here?"

  He swallows, wincing in pain. "I'm dying."

  "I know."

  He barks out a laugh, and I notice his teeth are stained red. "I guess your sister really would do anything to get out of an arranged marriage."

  The words are bitter, yet laced with pride. He has always respected power above all else, especially in his children. I've always wondered if that's why I was hidden away. In his mind, he tried to give me the world, but I lacked the will to reach out and take it. Not everything needs to be conquered—hearts most of all.

  "Where are the faeries?"

  "Vanished." He coughs as his whole body convulses. Wheezy breaths slip through his lips, and he finds my eyes. For a moment, I think he might tell me he loves me. That he's sorry for the mistakes he's made. That he regrets pushing me away for the simple fact that I reminded him of her. Instead, he hardens his gaze. "End it."

  Power courses through the air, striking my heart like the dagger I know he meant to throw. Of course, this is how it ends. I don't know why I ever expected anything different.

  My hands move of their own volition, gliding through the air and dropping to his throat. My fingers clench, and I'm ashamed to admit that deep down, there's a part of me that wants this too. I hold onto the shame as I call on my magic. I'll end it, as ordered, but I won't do it the way my father wants. I won't let him take my love and my humanity away in the same night. As my hold tightens, cutting off his air, I dive into his mind with my power and draw his memories of my mother out, pushing his memories of being king away. It's a kindness I'm not sure he deserves, but he's my father, so in the last few moments of his life, I give him the life I think he always truly wanted. I warp his thoughts. I twist them, playing with my magic, letting it guide me. I erase the past and the power-hungry man he's become. I put false memories in his heart—a lifetime spent in exile with my mother by his side. I give him new children, two girls and a boy, no names, but they're happy. And he's happy. And in this imagined life, my mother is there, and she's happy too, seeing all her dreams come true.