Ariel looked at the paper, the edge of her lip rising in disgust.
“A specimen for his zoo?”
“Yes, and according to a little prying I’ve done on my own, she even told him directly that it was the King of the Sea, transformed. I doubt he believes it, but still. A lovely story for his noble guests.”
“Can’t you stop this? Grab the, uh, package from her?”
“Ah…yes…well…Besides knowing that I know who she is, Vanesa also knows I’m helping you. She has threatened to kill Grimsby if she finds evidence of it.”
“Grimsby?” Ariel cried. “He’s harmless! That monster…”
“She knows how much he means to me,” Eric said darkly. “That’s her magic. Not real magic. She’s brilliant at finding the thing you love most and threatening to destroy it.”
Ariel groaned. “I wish I had that insight before I visited her the first time.”
“Age brings wisdom,” the prince said with a dry smile. “But look, it’s not actually such a bad thing. If I act like normal Eric, like I don’t even know what’s happening with the gift or the mail at all, that makes it far more unlikely that she will suspect anything, or try to stop us.”
“Good point. So what do we do?”
It didn’t even cross her mind for a moment to trade Grimsby for her father. Throwing an innocent under Ursula’s chariot for her own gain would make her no better than the sea witch herself.
“Well, when I said ‘we,’ I really meant ‘you.’ The carriage leaves for Ibria tomorrow. It will stop in the market to pick up other packages for delivery beyond the kingdom at midday and leave from the tavern at one o’clock. You could waylay it with your storm powers and grab your father, and no one would be the wiser! At worst they might think it was the work of a highwayman looking for gold.”
“I can’t,” Ariel said gently, although she was amused by the image: Queen of the Sea and Highway Robber. “My powers don’t work on land. Only water. Just like hers.”
“Oh.” Eric’s face fell. His lower lip was stuck out a little. It was a tiny bit childish but terribly endearing. She almost felt bad that her godlike powers had presented this limitation to him.
“Couldn’t you…stay in the sea…and direct a single, tiny wave or wind to hit it?”
“It’s not that precise. And it’s less like shooting out a bolt with my trident than encouraging the powers of nature to do something of their own accord. It’s not…neat. But if it’s just one or two men in the carriage, I think I can manage, with some help from my friends.”
“The seagulls?”
“Also my…mermaid charms.” She smiled. Too bad Sebastian won’t be there to hear me, singing like a siren. “Trust me, we can do it.”
“Perfect! By this time tomorrow it will all be over.”
“And I will have my father back!” Her heart leapt. There was still going to be a happy ending after all.
“And then we can get rid of Vanessa,” Eric said. “The sooner, the better. She’s far more dangerous than I ever realized.”
“It’s a plan,” said Ariel. “All we need to do now is carry it through!”
“Absolutely!”
“Great!”
“Good!”
“Excellent!”
A moment passed as they smiled at each other.
Another moment passed, somewhat awkwardly.
And then a third.
“…All right, then! Good luck! Hopefully when we next meet you’ll have your father back!” Eric blurted out.
“Yes! That will be great!” Ariel replied enthusiastically.
They shook hands and parted.
I hope Eric feels as stupid as I do, Ariel thought grumpily.
She entered the town late the next morning, and kept her headscarf close around her.
The market was different today—different vendors selling entirely different wares. In Atlantica it was always the same people selling the same things to the same people, only a slight variation with the seasons. It’s Red Kelp Festival Day! Oh, it’s the Incredibly Rare and Beautiful Blue-Tipped Anemone Spawning Day! Oh! It’s that guy who makes those little wood carvings of the gods out of shipwreck material!
Actually, those were pretty great, Ariel allowed. She owned at least a dozen of them.
Jona flew above her, occasionally landing on a roof when it was convenient. Several dozen gulls circled close by. Ariel hoped they wouldn’t be necessary; she didn’t want to draw attention to the situation. With any luck she could just distract the coachman, maybe sing a sireny tune or two to mesmerize him, then grab the package. And then she could return to her kingdom triumphantly, her father in hand, and it would all be over.