by Orchid Leigh
I searched Levvi’s shaken eyes. “Did you know about this?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, Ellie. We did not. Queen Leira never spoke of this.”
I turned back to Razora. “So that’s it?” I cried, astounded. “That’s all it takes? Leira gives you permission and you can destroy everything?”
“Well, no,” said Razora with a sinister grin. “And this is the best part . . . and it was never written in the laws because it never needed to be, for it is something that is inherent in all merprincesses.” She smiled cunningly. “I worked it out for myself when I saw just how weak and vulnerable my poor Leira had become when her love was so cruelly torn from her. You see, my dear princess, a true queen—even an heir from the purest of bloodlines such as yourself—has one more responsibility before she can gain the power of an almighty merqueen.”
I stared at Razora, confused. “And what is that?” I asked.
“The queen alone is not powerful enough to rule a city,” continued Razora. “No, there is one other thing that is needed, and it resides in the heart of every princess—it is the ability to love. Binding love with the power of the merqueen is what makes her mighty and strong.
“It is not just the heir’s blood but her love that gives her power. This great city had all of that, but they removed Leira and, with her, the power of her love. The one thing keeping us strong.” She paused and stared at me coldly.
The room was quiet.
“I don’t understand, Razora,” I said, breaking the silence. “If love is needed, how is it you have power? You do not love anything!”
“I loved Leira!” she shouted, throwing a reproachful glare at me.
“You didn’t love her. She wouldn’t have wanted this!”
Razora’s gaze hardened on me. “Don’t presume to know me, my child,” she spat. Her dark eyes filled with tears. “I loved her . . . till her dying day.” She blinked, and the tears splashed down her cheeks. She took a deep breath and sucked them up. “But my love was never enough for Leira.”
I stared back at her, into cold eyes and into a broken soul that was even colder and darker. “Razora, any love you may have had for Leira is gone.” I stood, perplexed. How could someone so cold profess to love? How did Razora have any power with a heart too icy for something so warm? Where exactly were her powers coming from?
Her eyes twitched, and in them burned a hunger, a thirst for something. For something she loved. Something she craved.
“It is just the power and control and fear that you love,” I said. “And it is an evil love that only destroys. It will cause this city to crumble. Is that what you want?”
“Yes!” she hissed. “I want them to pay for their actions!”
“No!” I yelled back at her. “I won’t let you hurt them anymore!”
“Yes, I know that, dear. You will always be in my way!” she seethed savagely. “And regretfully, I cannot kill you, for as the true heir, you have power that surpasses mine, and hand in hand with love, that power cannot be defeated.” She glowered at me and shook with a heavy breath that steamed from her nose.
There was a scuffle behind me, and I turned. Peter was making a futile attempt to get up. He fell weakly back to the mattress.
“Ellie,” he called to me in a cracked whisper.
He made another effort to prop himself onto his elbow. I wanted to go to him, but I dared not take my attention off Razora.
“Hold on, Peter, I—”
“Ellie,” he said, cutting me off.
“What?” I asked. I quickly turned to look at him and met frightened eyes. He was scared of something. He tried to speak, but his words were raspy and weak.
Scared and unsure, I turned back to Razora.
Like a prowling bear, she paced in front of the room, eyeing Peter inside. She turned her dark eyes back to me. “You, as the rightful heiress, have always been a lingering threat to me. You and your mother. Leira’s whole bloodline . . . up there . . . just waiting and threatening to come back and take it all away. Your mother was hidden well, so I had no choice but to wait. And so I have waited all these long years, frozen in time, for the return of the princess who would come and challenge me.” She stared at me coldly. “Your return, Ellie . . . just like I planned.”
“My return? You knew I was coming?”
She smiled wickedly. “I might have known a little something, my dear.” She paused and let out a contemptuous laugh. “Oh, poor Leira was so ashamed of what she did, so ashamed of me, so willing to turn on me and forget me, and oh so willing to help these stupid fools bring you . . . right to me. All it took was a few well-placed jabs on my part, and they went crawling to her.” Razora smiled at me, looking victorious. “And now, once I take care of you, this city will be all mine to crush and destroy.”
“But you’re forgetting something, Razora,” I said. “You can’t beat me.”
“Ellie . . .” It was Peter again. I twisted my neck to look at him. “Ellie . . . no . . . She’s . . . gonna . . .” His raspy voice broke, and he fell back to the bed.
“What?” I mouthed.
“Ah, it is true,” said Razora, paying Peter no mind. I turned back to her dark eyes. “I cannot beat you, for you are the true heir and true queen, and combined with the power of true love, I could never defeat you.”
She winked at me. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and a look of triumph flashed across her face. With a vicious sneer, she hissed, “Let’s take care of that, shall we?”
Razora grabbed at the top of her long braid. She pulled from her hair a short-pointed unicorn’s horn. It was broken and jagged at the base and sharp like a needle at the tip. She eyed the inside of the cage where Peter lay.
My heart cried.
30
“No!” I screamed. I tried to stop her, but she was too quick. Razora pitched the horn over my head and it soared into the room behind me.
Everything slowed.
I watched the pointy dagger sail toward Peter, who had managed to prop himself up into a sitting position on the cot. His sunken face turned to horror as he noticed the incoming missile heading straight his way. I watched as it pierced down, plunging into his heart, and I watched as he fell back to the mattress one last time.
I watched. But that wasn’t what I saw—it couldn’t be.
“Peter!” I screamed.
I sloshed through the water to Peter’s side.
Blood soaked his blue shirt, turning it an ugly violet. He wasn’t moving. His arms dangled limply over the sides of the small cot. “Peter!” I cried again. “Somebody help him! He’s hurt!”
Levvi was by my side, but he did nothing.
“Levvi, help him,” I cried. The merman remained still and quiet.
I yanked on Peter’s arm to try to get him to wake up. “It’s going to be okay, Peter,” I said. “We are going to get out of here. You were right. This was stupid. I should have listened to you.” I pressed my lips to his. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
I laid my face on his chest. It did not heave with the intake of breath and there was no heart silently pounding inside. “No,” I cried. “Peter, please. Please. You can’t leave me.”
Hopeless tears streamed down my face.
I closed my eyes.
I fell into a world . . . dark and quiet. I lingered there, where everything was cold, where everything was distant. Time was no more, for it did not matter.
Nothing mattered now.
“Ellie.”
A voice broke the silence.
“Ellie.”
Someone was whispering my name.
I stayed where I was in my dark, cold space.
“Ellie,” it called again. Levvi’s voice . . . somewhere in the distance.
A hand was on my shoulder.
“Ellie,” he said softly into my ear.
I opened my eyes. My face was sticky and wet from tears and from the blood on Peter’s shirt. I kept my head down, resting it on his lifeless body. I stared transfixed
at the horn protruding from his chest, just inches from my nose. It was a silvery blue, and though broken and detached from its poor owner, it remained a treasure that glimmered in the light.
I pulled the horn from Peter’s inert body.
I turned with wet, blurry eyes to Razora, who had entered the room and now stood towering over me. “Why, Razora?” I cried.
“Because you are no threat with a broken heart,” she said, her voice quivering with rage. “You cannot rule if you do not love. And now that that has been taken care of, I will finish you off for good!”
She reached down and grabbed me by the shoulders. Her bony fingers wrapped tightly around my arms, digging sharp claws into my skin. She lifted me easily off the ground, bringing me up and level with her eyes. She held tight, staring ferociously into mine. She didn’t speak, and the room was silent except for the sound of water dripping down the ends of my shoes, splashing onto the flooded floor below.
I stared back at her dark, lonely eyes and realized I felt nothing but pity for the wretched soul in front of me. “You were once just one of them,” I said.
She cocked her head back and eyed me suspiciously. This hadn’t been the response she was expecting.
“I was never a fool like them,” she sneered.
“You are, though, Razora,” I said. “Don’t you see?”
Her eyes narrowed in thought, but she didn’t answer. It didn’t surprise me. This was something she could never understand.
“Your view of love is very narrow, Razora,” I said. “You have let the vengeance you seek harden your heart. And in doing so, it has shriveled to nothing.”
My voice came out shaking through my chattering teeth. Whether they trembled because I was cold or scared or sad, I couldn’t tell. I was all of those things, but none of it mattered now.
I stared into Razora’s eyes, seeking a burner that might still be alight. There was only darkness. “You don’t have the capacity for love anymore, so you couldn’t see beyond what you think you know. And for that I am sorry.” I turned my head to look at Peter but only managed a glimpse of his dirty sneakers. “I’m really sorry,” I whispered to him, and tears began to fall from my eyes again.
“I think we’ve had enough of that, dearie,” shrieked Razora, throwing me down. I fell with a splash to the floor. “Now it’s time to take care of my final threat.”
She stepped forward and hovered over me like a lion. She reached down and grasped at the collar of my shirt, pulling me up with one hand, and with the other, she reached long fingers down the length of my arm. She found the horn I still carried and pulled it from my weak grip. She raised it to my throat and stared at me hard, her eyes wicked with intent.
“Goodbye, my princess,” she sneered. With a jerk of her wrist, she pulled back just a little and made to thrust forward with the sharp point of the horn.
In a flash of a second, I felt it. It had been there all along—I knew that now. But Razora did not.
Like a bolt of electricity, a power surged through me. It ignited in my bones and pulsed across my skin. In an instant, I was no longer cold, I was no longer scared, and I was no longer weak.
In quick succession, I raised my hand, grabbed at the horn, and turned it around on Razora.
“You are the fool, Razora,” I said. I sniffed and turned to peer out into the room where the merfolk stood watching. My heart ached for them, so pitiful and ridden with fear. “You have no idea what love is, Razora. If you ever did, you have forgotten.”
I turned my head toward Peter, then back to Razora, who met me with frightened eyes. Tears poured down my face. “And love does not simply die with a person!” I cried angrily.
Aghast, Razora gaped at me. She tried to grab at the horn again, but it was tight and secure in my grip. I shot my hand forward and let out a loud scream. I plunged the point deep into her stomach. Her eyes bulged with pain and shock.
She dropped me from her arms, and I stood in the water, holding onto her. “It’s over, Razora,” I said with sad tears.
With one more surge, the power inside me escaped through my hand and ran through the horn and out into Razora’s body. She convulsed and shook beneath my arms. Her beetle eyes bulged once more. Then they settled into a lifeless stare. I let go, and she fell on her back and splashed down into the water. A river of red streamed from her body.
She was dead.
31
With the splash of Razora’s dead body, a wave of jubilance rose around the room. The sound reverberated off the stone walls and echoed a joyous song that fell, muffled, on my ears.
To me, this was a distant memory in some other life . . . in some other universe. I stared at their smiling faces and knew I was happy for them, but I felt nothing.
Levvi walked to stand beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. I let his arm fall as I turned back to Peter’s side. I would go back to my quiet world now . . . where all was still.
I sat on the cot beside Peter and took his cold hand in mine and cried. I stared at his blank face and was hollow. A deep gouge in my heart left an emptiness there. An emptiness that could never be filled, because it was the space that had grown for him, and he was gone. Where are you, Peter?
A crushing weight pressed down on me and I folded over onto Peter’s lifeless body and sobbed.
The room around me grew quiet. The only sound that remained in the cold, echoey space was the sound of my weeping. But the hush lasted for only a moment, when again the crowded room stirred with joy. The joyous sound rose in volume and beckoned me to look up.
The room of merfolk was gasping in awe at something, a look of wonder spreading across each of their faces. I followed their gazes to the window and to the outside sea.
A bright light shone through the opening, and the luminescent water, pure and still outside, sparkled and bubbled.
Then the source of the light was revealed as, one by one, small glowing orbs floated into view. They drifted through the water and past the window and floated like fireflies into the room. They streamed in by the hundreds, a dazzling diamond necklace that dangled in the air and floated toward the enclosure where I sat beside Peter.
Then, in succession, the individual lights floated down to touch his skin. Their warmth fell over me as they passed by—pleasant and sweet like sunshine kissing your skin on a cold winter’s day. They landed softly, starting at his head, then moving down his body. They filled in the spaces until every inch of him was covered in sparkling light.
I moved to stand beside the bed. I stared in awe at the form of Peter’s body, now covered in light from head to toe.
The lights merged and grew brighter. As they did, they began to sing. A lovely soft, ambient sound, pure and sweet, poured from their midst. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to the soothing melody. They sang until their song was finished, then they faded and turned off. There was one that remained. It rose in front of me and landed on the tip of my nose. It lingered for a second, then pulsed with a bright light before it, too, turned off and was gone.
There was an instant sense of comfort, and I looked down. My shirt and my jeans, where they were not touching the water, were dry. They were warm, with freshly laundered softness, and all the aches in my body had been dissolved.
My eyes fell on Peter. A seed of hope sprouted within me. I squinted in disbelief.
His skin was pink again. His shirt was untarnished. I placed my hand on his chest where the wound had been. There was no blood. I lifted his shirt to see that his wound had healed. There was no scar or redness to mark the horror. I folded the fabric back down and stared at his blushed cheeks. And then my eyes moved to his, and his opened.
“Peter!” I screamed.
He blinked at me. “Ellie,” he said. There was a slight rasp in his voice, but he was speaking. He was speaking!
I covered my gaping mouth, staring in disbelief at his beautiful eyes gazing back at me.
I moved my hand to touch his face, so warm and soft. “Oh my god,”
I cried, bending low on the bed to hug him. I tucked my fingers under his arms and held on. He was oh so warm, and his heart drummed steady and strong inside his chest. I held on, not wanting to let go, not wanting to wake up from this wonderful dream.
“Ellie.” Peter squirmed under me.
I pulled myself off and stared at him, happy tears streaming from my eyes.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You’re okay,” I said, nodding and smiling and still crying. “You’re going to be okay.”
I looked to my side and out into the room where Midnight stood. The majestic unicorn peered at me through the glass walls. He lowered his head as if to bow. I turned back to Peter. “I think it was the unicorns,” I said with a dumbfounded laugh.
He nodded. My hands found Peter’s warm cheeks again. He placed his hands over top of mine and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes again and smiled. “You can stop crying,” he said. “I’m okay.”
I shook my head at the naive request, and my tears continued to pour.
Peter sat up beside me. He brought a hand to my cheek and wiped at my tears. He smiled and put his arms around me, and we held on for a quiet minute. We let go and sat side by side with our feet hanging off the cot.
“Was that you?” asked Peter, glancing over at Razora’s lifeless body, grim and ghastly in the water.
I moved a hand to his chest and nodded.
“So you beat her?”
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “It doesn’t feel like I beat anything, though.”
Peter put an arm around me, pulling me into him.
“How did you get here, anyway?” I asked, still tight to his side.
“I fell asleep waiting for you on the dock . . . I jumped in right after you.”
I shook my head, silently berating myself. “So did you know she was going to go after you?”
“Nah . . . not at first. I kinda figured it out once she started babbling, though.” He let go of me and twisted on the bed to meet my eyes. “She sure did underestimate you. You were pretty incredible, Ellie. Where did that all come from?” His eyes were wide with astonishment.
