The Mermaid's Madness Read Online Free

hands over the wound, trying to stop the flow of blood.
    “She’s still breathing.” Talia’s voice quavered.
    “Someone fetch Hoffman,” Armand shouted.
    “No!” said Talia. “Get Snow.”
    “I’m here.” Snow was already climbing up from the main deck, her face even paler than usual.
    “I called for my surgeon, dammit!” Armand stared at his mother’s crumpled form. Danielle could see him fighting to maintain his self-control.
    One of the men fired his crossbow into the water. “Your Highness, the undine are leaving!”
    Danielle reached out to touch Armand’s arm. “Snow is a skilled healer. She’s helped Beatrice before.”
    “My mother is dying,” Armand replied, his voice flat. “Hoffman is—”
    “Your mother trusts these women,” Danielle said. “So do I. Please let Snow save her.”
    Snow wasn’t waiting for his answer. She knelt beside the queen and spread her hand over Talia’s. “Press harder. Everyone else get back and give me light.”
    “Will she live?” Talia asked.
    Snow didn’t answer. She touched her choker, a band of oval mirrors connected with gold wire. Light flashed from the mirror in the center, illuminating the wound. “Pull your hand away now.”
    Talia drew back, and Snow clapped her own hands down over Beatrice’s chest. Her hair fell like black curtains to obscure her actions.
    “Talia?” Danielle asked.
    Talia’s hands had begun to shake. She picked up the broken spear and stepped toward the railing.
    Danielle followed. “What are you doing?”
    Talia jumped lightly onto the rail, one hand holding a line as she searched the water.
    “They’ve already fled. You’ll never catch them.” Danielle reached out, but Talia slapped her hand away with the spear. “Even if Lirea remains, she’ll kill you. You can’t fight them in the water.”
    Talia might as well have been deaf. She paced along the rail, every step deliberate.
    “Snow will save the queen,” Danielle said. “Don’t leave me to explain to her why you threw your life away.”
    If Danielle hadn’t been watching so closely, she would have missed the faint slumping of Talia’s shoulders.
    “The sea folk have been known to poison their blades,” whispered one of the crew.
    Snow shook her head. “It’s not poison.”
    Armand stood. The crew fell silent as he turned to face them. “Make sail for home.”
    When leaving the docks at Lorindar, he had shouted orders for a quarter of an hour. From the way the crew worked together now, unfurling the sails in near silence, those detailed commands had been little more than a formality.
    “What about her?” One of the crew gestured at Talia with her crossbow. “It was her who fought the mermaid and got the queen stabbed.”
    Talia turned on the balls of her feet. Her expression made Danielle pray the man had already prepared his will and made peace with God. Then Talia looked at the queen. She bowed her head and dropped to the deck, her anger disappearing.
    No, Danielle corrected. The rage wasn’t gone. It was simply turned inward.
    “I said take us home.” Armand’s voice was soft, but the crew scrambled to obey. He crouched beside Snow. “What can I do to help?”
    “Give me space,” Snow snapped.
    Danielle took Talia’s hand and pulled her toward the ladder. It was a measure of Talia’s shock that she didn’t resist as Danielle led her away.
     
    Snow had spent most of the day in the galley, reading a treatise on the development of marine navigation, from simple star charts to celestial globes of enchanted quartz to the first astrolabe.
    The oven had been extinguished after breakfast, as the growing winds made the risk of fire too great, but the smell of fresh-roasted sausage lingered in the air. Snow sat on a wooden bench in the corner, knees pulled close to support her book. She was so absorbed in her reading that she barely noticed the gentle clangs of the pots and pans hanging on the wall.
    Her choker cast a soft beam of sunlight on