"Sea witch! I demand answers!"

I had no time to change into any sort of finery for an actual meeting with the Sea King, so I go down to the cellar in dirt-stained trousers and blue blouse with soil beneath my fingers and thin cuts on my palms. Bippi undulates beside me, a silent shadow.

"If you need answers," I tell him wearily, dropping into the chair, "then I have none."

Leonaris, the Sea King of the Nothmar Ocean, cuts an imposing figure. From the waist up, his bronzed physique could make any woman's thoughts turn to the bedchamber; crystal blue eyes narrow impatiently in a face that could have been sculpted by a master. Dark blue-grey scales the color of shark skin dip below the water line. Heavy green hair is caught back in an elaborate series of braids down his back and a crown of red coral sits on his head. Ropes of jewels taken from sunken treasure ships drape across his smooth, broad chest. He is masculinity defined—and a colossal asshole.

"We had a deal, sea witch," Leonaris growls, the sharp tip of his tail slapping the pool's surface. "We provide you with amenities from the sea floor and you keep the humans from my kingdom. What I heard today makes me question your ability to honor that bargain."

I have no time for this. "So, I am required to be a fortune teller now, too, Your Majesty? Was I was supposed to have foreseen that Duke Lucien would bring a cannon with devastating capabilities to this shore?" I laugh dryly as the Sea King's lips form a thin line. Dangerous territory, but I am tired. Beside me, Bippi slowly shakes from side to side—a warning.

"The duke will not stop with you," the Sea King says ominously. "Once he has tamed the sea witch, what makes you think he will leave us alone?"

My fists clench at my sides and I take slow, deep breaths. "I didn't want things to be this way," I whisper. All I wanted to do is serve my village. Where did I go wrong? A small black tentacle touches my knee. I look down at Bippi, grateful for the octopus's support.

"Bah," Leonaris says dismissively, waving a hand. "I don't care about your small human dreams. What I care about is what you can do for us now."

I sigh. "I have three days before the duke returns with his new toys."

The Sea King glares at me. "Then you better start thinking, witch." With a flick of his tail, Leonaris disappears beneath the glowing surface.

Groaning, I stretch in the chair and look down at Bippi. "What am I to do?"

Slowly, the black octopus blinks. "Sadly, I am at a loss, Sina." He says this with such sorrow that I know he is not being evasive.

Closing my eyes, I wrack my brains trying to come up with a solution. But all I can see is Duke Lucien standing there, smirking, with his arm around Klaus's son.

An idea jolts me upright.

"Sina?" Bippi inquires, concerned.

It's a stupid idea, one that I would have otherwise dismissed. But I don't have the time to be discerning anymore. I turn to look at Bippi.

"Can you fetch the Princess Amanthara?"

——————

"You sent for me, Sina?"

I watch as the princess's head clears the pool's edge and she heaves herself onto the slick black rock. A bandeau of scarlet silk covers her breasts this time. Bippi clambers over the side and undulates towards me.

"Yes," I reply, measuring greenish liquid in a cup before pouring it into a cauldron. I had the selkies bring all the tools to make a potion from my workroom down here. The spell I'm about to craft is a fickle one, something that must be administered almost immediately.

"I have a proposal for you." I set the beaker aside and reach for a vial of dragonfly wings. I pluck two iridescent specimens out and add them to the cauldron. A puff of purple smoke wafts toward the cavernous ceiling.

"Yes?" the little mermaid asks cautiously.

"You said that you wanted to toy with the duke's grandson as revenge. Do you still wish to do so?" I grab an octopus tentacle—not one of Bippi's, but of a lesser, non-sentient creature—and add it to the brew. I angle my head away as blue-pink flames erupt from the cauldron.

"Yes!" she exclaims, utterly delighted. I glance at her over the swirling cauldron. The child sounds overly enthusiastic, something which I chalk up to youthfulness and shrug.

"Good." I stir the potion with a coral rod and peer inside. The liquid slowly shifts from green to blue and then to pink. It is ready. I take a crystal vial from the small table beside me and make a motion with my free hand. The potion lifts upwards, circling in the air before I detect it into the vial; it is important that my skin not touch it. I hand Amanthara the vial and stop her before she drinks.

I speak quickly. "This potion will give you human legs, but only for three days. In that time, should you be able to get close to the duke, slip him this potion." I point at a slim vial of dark purple liquid on the table near me. "It will open him up to suggestion. You must order him to leave me alone, that I may come and go as I please and ply my craft where it is needed."

Amanthara nods.

"Also, this potion will leave you with no voice. Do you believe yourself capable?"

"No ... voice?" She looks as if she's going to back out. If she doesn't drink this now, it will take me three hours to make a new one.

"Spells like this one are give and take. Legs for voice. That is the price you must pay."

Again, the princess nods—albeit reluctantly. "Very well." I gesture to the potion. "Three days," I warn as she tips the vial back, sucking down every last drop.

Bippi hauls himself onto the table and I rest my hand upon his head as Amanthara grimaces, then gasps. I watch with a clinical eye as she suddenly moans, then reaches out for her glorious tail. Pink mist gathers at the base of her tail, then works its way upward, growing thicker. Amanthara screams and arches her back.

There is silence. The little mermaid's mouth is open, but no sound comes forth. Amanthara's eyes bulge and her hands go to her throat. She's too preoccupied with being rendered mute that she hasn't noticed her new legs.

I turn as the mermaid slaps her hands upon the rock, then curls around her throat again. We all must make sacrifices, I grumble to myself as I gather up small clothes, a dress, and some shoes. There's even a small pouch of coins.

"Here," I tell her, "put these on." I mime how to get dressed.

Amanthara's distress has quieted as she has now discovered her new anatomy.

"You can play with that later," I tell her as she prods between her legs curiously.

She pouts but reaches for the small clothes and struggles to put her legs through the holes.

Seeing that she is in dire want of aid, I dress the mermaid as I would a child, explaining human female needs and how to take care of them. "You remember the human language I taught you?" I taught all of Leonaris's daughters; some were more adept than others.

Amanthara's mouth opens; she frowns, then nods.

"Good," I say, handing her a pad and pen. The mermaid tucks them into her belt. I reach behind me and pull a small conch shell necklace off the table and fasten it around Amanthara's neck. I take its twin and loop the chain around my own. "This is how we will communicate," I tell her as she touches the conch shell. "If you need to speak to me, simply place the open end against your heart and think. The spell will send your thoughts to me—and vice versa. I need you to check in every eight hours."

Amanthara nods.

"Good. Now you need to stand."

We waste precious time getting the mermaid to understand human locomotion, but it allows me to give her as much instruction as her little head can hold.

At one point, she writes on her pad: What are you going to tell my father?

"Good question," I reply. "I'll come up with some excuse." What exactly, I don't know. Maybe I'll just block off the pool until she returns. Maybe I'll dose him with the same potion I've crafted for the duke—wouldn't that be amusing?

Far later than I wanted, Amanthara gets the hang of walking and seems confident in her ability to remember all of my instructions. I lead her to the docks, which are already being repaired, and hand her over to a selkie. They will take her to the edge of Farbarrow in a dinghy and drop her off near the forest. From there, she will make her way to Rollinsville and the castle. How she manages to get in there ... well, that's all up to her.

As Amanthara gets into the dinghy, I hand her some protection charms. Merfolk are not defenseless, but she gave up her spines when she lost her tail.

"Good luck," I tell her—and mean it. My life and countless others rely on one small teenage mermaid. Ah, Grey God preserve us.

Amanthara touches her fingertips to her heart and pivots in the dinghy, looking toward the distant shore.

I watch as they sail away, then walk swiftly up the dock. I have contingency plans to make.