The Sea Witch’s Song, Part 4
I spent the next several days hiding in Llyr’s house. His parents were distantly cordial to me, and generally treated me as though I wasn’t there, which was fine by me. The news came through Llyr, as horrifying as predicted.
“Your Grandmother was arrested on suspect of treason,” he told me the first day. “She’ll be put on trial. Most likely she’ll be imprisoned. Treason doesn’t usually end with an innocent verdict.”
Seeing the expression on my face, he shook his head. “Don’t even think about it, Ursula. You’ll only end up with her if you try.”
“But it’s not fair!” I protested. “She’s completely innocent!”
“They aren’t going to exchange her for you, if that’s what you’re thinking. It doesn’t look good. Imprisoning a child? No way.”
I hated how calm he was, hated the merpeople, and hated myself for getting Grandmother into this mess. I turned away in anger, crossing my arms and biting back the tears.
There was a pause. “I’m sorry, Ursula. But we have to think about you now. Mother and Father think they have an idea of where you can go and be safe. They’re trying to reach their contact now. Just a couple more days.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to, but also at that moment I was entirely incapable of speaking. After a short silence, Llyr left the room.
Two days later, he woke me in the middle of the night.
“Wake up, Ursula. It’s time to go.”
The ocean was black as ink when we left, so dark I didn’t even get to see Atlantis one last time, as we clambered into a carriage and delved into the deep. I had no sense of how far we traveled or in what direction. It seemed forever and only a few minutes and then we stopped.
In the pale light of the glowfish lamps just outside the carriage, two green moray eels were waiting quietly.
“Ursula, this is Flotsam and Jetsam. They’ll take care of you now.”
Flotsam — or Jetsam, I wasn’t sure which, watched me uncertainly. “She’s just a kid, isn’t she?” he remarked. “Pretty young to be getting mixed up with them merfolk.”
“Never mind the details,” Llyr said.
“I can take care of myself,” I said rebelliously. Jetsam — or Flotsam — snorted.
“Sure you can,” he said, “and that’s why you’re here, in the middle of nowhere with us.”
I bit back a nasty response, not wanting to jeopardize the only chance I had at safety, and looked down instead. The dark ocean was terribly cold.
“Well,” Flotsam said after a moment, “we’ll take her from here. You’d best be getting back before lightening.”
“Indeed,” Llyr’s father agreed, and returned to the carriage, but Llyr hesitated.
“Good luck,” he said with a small smile.
“You too,” I said, trying to be brave. “I guess maybe I’ll see you.”
“I guess.” After a second, he reached over and briefly hugged me, his scales tickling my skin. “Take care of yourself, Ursula,” he said softly, and vanished into the carriage, which was swiftly swallowed by the night.
“Come on, kid,” Jetsam said, butting my side lightly with his head. “Let’s go.”
I glanced back into the deep, no longer even sure which way the carriage had gone, then nodded once and followed them to my new life.
The two eels lived in a small coral mining settlement not far from the reef where my parents had worked. As it turned out, Flotsam and Jetsam had known my parents briefly, which is why they’d been willing to take me in. There was little in terms of schooling and it was a hard existence, but it was all I had then. I never saw my Grandmother again. I heard, some years later, that she’d be confined to house prison and died a few years later.
Not at all content with “never mind the details,” Flotsam threatened to throw me out into the open ocean if I didn’t tell them what really happened, and so I confessed everything, from the operas to my love of singing, to my horribly disastrous plan.
To my surprise, the eels made no judgments, only listened. When I was done, Flotsam sighed. “Messy all around,” he said. “The merpeople are pretty touchy about their power, aren’t they?”
“Touchy, and grouchy,” Jetsam agreed with a chuckle. “But you know, honey, magic doesn’t just come in tridents.”
I felt as though my whole being had frozen. “What did you say?”
“Magic comes in all kinds of forms, doesn’t it, Flotsam?” Jetsam asked, glancing over at his partner.
“It does,” Flotsam confirmed.
I couldn’t breathe. Maybe, just maybe, everything wasn’t lost. If I could find the magic and find a voice, then everything wouldn’t be in vain.
“Tell me where I can learn,” I said.
Thus began my transformation into the Sea Witch. Flotsam and Jetsam located some scripts, and I began to teach myself magic. Most of it was potions, really, strange brews with ingredients we had to scrounge for and promises of alluring and frightening effects on the drinker.
The settlement was small, but word passed quickly and the residents were uncomfortable, and before I was out of my teens I was quietly, but firmly, asked to take my experiments elsewhere.
I didn’t expect Flotsam and Jetsam to come with me, but they did. “We aren’t going to leave you out there on your own, kid,” Flotsam said.
“Yeah, we promised we’d protect you,” Jetsam agreed.
“Besides, mining wasn’t ever my cup of tea anyway,” Flotsam said.
“We just want to see you happy,” Jetsam added.
We took up residence in the remains of a leviathan. It was cold and dreary, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t see anything but my work. It was my obsession, my driving force. Every second I didn’t know how to create a voice for myself was a second wasted, and I dove ever deeper into dangerous magic, desperately searching for what I needed.
I don’t know how it happened. I suppose the residents of the mining settlement talked. Either way, word got out of my work and sometime later, quietly, shamefully, the creatures began to come.
I didn’t want to see them at first, but soon realized the advantage they could give me. Sometimes I could help and sometimes I couldn’t, but when I could they paid for my services in ingredients or knowledge, and my power grew. I was able to help more, my reputation grew, and soon enough, their pale shoulders hunched and eyes furtive, the merpeople began to come.
It was clear they didn’t want anyone to know they were there. Their requests were varied and simple enough; a girl’s heart, a relative healed, an enemy vanquished. Some noble enough, some not noble at all.
I didn’t bother to make judgments. I gave them what they wanted. And if it came with a shocking price, as magic is very rarely free? If it ended badly for them, if getting what they wanted involved a dark and ugly path?
Well, it didn’t much matter to me. They’d have to admit they’d come to me if they wanted to pin blame, and even if they did, what did it matter? My collection of scripts was vast by then, the payment for my services making me rich in potions.
The years passed. I grew up, grew older. For one precious job, I acquired a vastly powerful nautilus shell, and used it to make ever more powerful and dangerous potions, confining much of my power there. A sort of trident of my own.
And somewhere along the way, I must have forgotten why I wanted to learn magic. All that mattered was the magic itself, the power. The only objective of getting power was to use it to get even more. I enjoyed the twisted deals.
I suppose it would have continued that way indefinitely if not for Ariel.
