Vanessa adjusted her muffler. It was uncomfortable and itchy and made her sweat and possibly break out. Human skin was so temperamental, exposed to naked air—too moist, too dry, far too parched, pimples and rashes and exfoliation…was this true with all Dry World creatures? Or just mortal ones?
Ursula, focus.
She went into her bedroom and headed directly to the vanity, where she pulled off the ridiculous muffler and threw it to the floor. Vareet dashed over and immediately picked it up, shaking it out and dusting it. The sea witch coughed and touched her neck lightly, dabbing it with a silk powder puff. Then she leered into the mirror. For a moment she could almost see her true self. She grinned, delighted with her remembered appearance.
“Good to see you, old girl,” she purred in her real voice, enjoying every syllable. “So tell me. Where is the little hussy now? Did she crawl back to the sea, or is she hanging around, hoping for a chance to reunite with Prince Dum-Dum?”
Anyone watching would have just seen a reflection of Vanessa, checking her teeth, running a hand through the top of her hair.
The transformation and accompanying charm and memory spells were some of the biggest, most interesting cantrips she had ever cast. She had done her sorcerous best in the three days Ariel pranced about on land. There was a lot there to be proud of. Still, it was a bit hasty and thrown together, and now its weakness showed, especially the mass-forgetting bit.
And was Eric regaining his will? He had acted a little odd at lunch, but sometimes it was hard to tell with humans. Especially dumb ones.
But if the day of the wedding began to grow clearer in the memories of those who had witnessed it…well, Ursula knew enough about mer and human behavior to know that it would amount to nothing. Mermaids? Witches? Sea gods? There was an opera about it already, for heaven’s sake. People who saw the show would confuse that with reality, and people who hadn’t actually been on the boat would think anyone who said otherwise was mad. No, Ursula wasn’t worried about the staff, the servants, the peasants, the nobles, the riffraff.
Only Eric and Ariel.
A quick tempest of a rage crossed her face, deranging it for a moment into a hideous snarl of lips and eyes and teeth.
Eric and Ariel. Whether apart or together, they were determined to screw up her life.
The game had begun! Or…continued from years before. Ariel had made the first move, and it was a doozy.
Well, she would put an end to that. Now it was her move.
“FLOTSAM! JETSAM!” she snarled.
Both servants were in front of her less than a tailslap later. Upon seeing them Vareet quickly betook herself to the closet—perhaps on the pretext of hanging up the muffler—and peeped out timidly. Ridiculous little idiot.
Speaking of hiding, she would have to do something about old Kingy now. He wasn’t safe from theft anymore…
…and maybe it was finally time to do that thing with him. The thing she had kept him around for, all these years, besides the fun of gloating. Just in case. Maybe it was time to set certain other plans in motion. Being a princess was fun. But there were greater stakes to play for…
“I want this castle put on high alert,” Ursula snapped. “I want a meeting with a captain of the guard—I want watches doubled, tripled. I want everyone to know about a certain red-haired enemy of the state. I want a reward put out for a sighting and another for capture. I want dozens of men on the beach again, men in front of every low window, and for every maid to be told exactly what she looks like.”
“Absolutely, Ursula,” Flotsam said with a grin.
“About time, Ursula,” Jetsam said with a sneer.
Vareet said nothing.
The bright bit of beach outside her window caught Ursula’s attention. A slow smile spread over her face.
“And,” she said slowly, “I think…a warning…might be in order…”
She watched the two birds fly off. She knew that one of them—or another winged friend—would remain silently near her at all times, above her, keeping an eye on things.
What a strange ability to have in this two-dimensional land! To be able to break the barrier of height, to ascend and descend at will above their fellow Dry World creatures. Yet even for seagulls it was an effort. If they didn’t keep gliding or flapping, they fell.
I need to keep gliding and flapping, Ariel thought as she picked out the path to town, or I’ll fall, too. Right now she was neither a creature wholly of the sea or the land. She should be ruling the waves. She should have been married to Eric, ruling the little kingdom. She should have been swimming free in the ocean, singing and playing with her friends and dreaming. But here she was instead, doing none of those things.