The Little Mermaid (Faerie Tale Collection) Page 6

  The box lurched slowly into movement again. Keel glanced around, surprised to see that no one was coming aboard to harm them further. The prince and another man sat in front of the thing, whipping at animals that were forced to pull them forward. In fact, as they made their way past a group of curious onlookers, he realized they must have been who the prince was shouting at. Both sides of the streets were lined with village merchants, some with wares to sell in wheeled carts, and others with children.

  He felt the ground shift and harden slightly, and he noticed they were beginning to leisurely travel upon a narrow bridge of some sort that led directly into the heart of the castle. The gate to the fortress looked like a large stone and iron mouth, waiting to clamp down and seal them within the palace grounds forever. Keel’s heart raced as he wondered at all the horrors awaiting them. If they did not leave now, he would never get the princess to safety.

  With as much care as possible, he scrambled with Pearl over to the edge of the box. Just as he was about to jump over the thing and wish for the best, he found a type of rope latch securing the back end to the main frame of the wood. Keel released it with a loud thud and panicked. But as he glanced toward the front, he noticed that the drivers of the contraption had not heard. Neither of the two men had even looked back once to see that all was not well with their cargo.

  Were all humans this dense? Perhaps they did not believe merpeople were intelligent enough to think and fight on their own.

  Whatever the reason, Keel honestly could not have cared one jot in that moment. In fact, he simply took it as a sign from the great sea gods that they were being watched over. Thank goodness the bridge was so narrow that the traveling box could not move as fast as it had been. As swiftly as possible, he tucked Pearl against his chest, one hand holding her tightly against him while the other hand clutched the rope that connected the gate to the rest of the thing. Several of the people had already begun to follow them and were walking upon the bridge again.

  Keel slid to the edge of the gate and pushed off. He stumbled upon the stone, but through the great mercy of fate, he was able to stay his balance enough to collect himself before they both toppled over.

  Then as he hoisted her higher upon his chest, Keel took one final look back at the now halted box and ran through the crowd waiting below him.

  Drake must have felt the weight of the box shift significantly enough to glance back and see them escaping.

  Keel ignored the shouting that followed. He did not look back. He knew he only had a few moments of shocked reaction from the onlookers before they realized what had really happened and went after him. So he took every precious moment he had and fled with Pearl in his arms as quickly and as surely down the hill as he could.

  KEEL CAREENED AROUND A bend as he followed the winding path strewn with plants and greenery down to the village below, the sharp boots behind him pounding several feet away. They could run, but he vowed they would never find them. Pearl’s weight began to grow upon him, but he pushed the thought away. There was no time to think of the disadvantages now, not when everything proved to be in his favor.

  As he passed the next turn, he veered to the right and into the foliage, hoping that with the bends in the road, he would have enough time to hide them within the bushes until the chase was called off. Just as like the schools of fish do in the ocean when escaping a larger predator, Keel chose the darkest, most covered spot to hide in several feet away from the trail. It was beneath low-hung branches of a tall, spindly tree.

  Panting from the exertion, he laid the still listless Pearl down on her side upon the dank floor and then went into action, covering their small hiding spot with the branches he could quickly grab just around them to disguise any bits of color seeping through.

  All the extra worry was for naught.

  Keel was shocked to hear the sound of several loud, booted feet as they charged past, still keeping to the path. Peeking through an opening, he could make out the matching clothing of the prince and many men who followed him.

  Their pace was swift, but had slowed down to a more methodical rhythm, almost as if they were simply biding their time.

  Did they recognize he had veered off the road and was even now hidden away?

  Knowing royal strategy as he did, they had more than likely given up the chase altogether and were going to align themselves across the beach and wait for them to escape.

  Keel sighed. There was nothing he could do about that now. Neither he nor Pearl were in any state to be able to beat them to the oceanfront.

  Pearl!

  Good heavens, he nearly forgot. Keel sat on the ground and tugged upon her shoulders. Then he gently lifted her until her head lay facedown across his leg. Tenderly, he touched her open wound and grimaced once more at the atrocious sight before him. The darker blood clashed horridly against her vivid hair, now matted and moist.

  She needed the healing saltwater of the ocean to help this mess, and he had no notion of how to get it to her.

  He ran his hand down her arm and clutched her wrist. His heart clenched when through his own racing pulse, he could feel nothing in her. But he did not let go. He could not. There was still hope. She could not have been killed by these monstrous beings before he could begin his life with her.

  He refused to believe it.

  Gingerly, he dressed her wound, his hands shaking as they removed hair and debris to uncover the large, glaring slash. Leaning over, he lifted her skirt a few inches, found the clean white linen beneath, and ripped one of the ruffled sections right off. Then he wrapped it tightly around the exposed wound and her forehead, tying it securely. Concern marred his heart as he watched the blood slowly seep through the fabric.

  But it was that pulsing blood that gave him hope. Reaching down, he grasped her wrist again, and this time, with his own heart rate settled a bit more, he was able to feel hers. Faint, but slow and steady. It would seem she was in a sleep-like state. He felt so helpless in those minutes when he held her and rocked back and forth, willing her to wake up.

  It was not until sometime later when he began to feel his first real pangs of hunger strike him. How long had it been since either of them had eaten?

  Probably twenty-four hours had passed since they partook of the seaweed meal before he first transformed. Typically, merfolk could go two or three days without sustenance, but with the changes to their bodies and environment, they would need a meal very, very soon.

  In fact, without the saltwater Pearl needed or some other sort of nourishment, she might become even more ill. Or worse yet—never awake again.

  Curse this foul, evil land! Curse a people so caught up in their own importance and design to own everything good in this world that they could not be kind enough to allow others the right to live and visit and enjoy it too.

  What good was it, taking a trip to a place where you would always be hunted? He laid her gently upon the ground, her vibrant red hair floating gently around her, looking like a bright halo. Her features were paler than he had seen before, and he feared it had little to do with the shadows under the shade of the large foliage. But still, with her pretty nose and sweeping eyelashes, with beautiful pink lips, the whiteness did not detract a fraction from her beauty. She was stunningly unique, even for a human woman—he had yet to see one who was her equal.

  What did Drake want with them? Why treat them no better than animals or slaves? Keel shuddered at the images these thoughts had produced. He did not want to know what was in Drake’s mind. He only needed to understand one thing—the best way to leave this horrid land and get his Pearl to safety so that she might heal and live.

  It was still early afternoon and several hours until dusk, but it could not be helped—leaving her hidden here was his only option to obtain food and saltwater for her. Shortly, he would return, and hopefully, by nightfall, they could leave this place forever.

  He leaned down and kissed her sweet mouth, his heart lurching when she did not return the gesture. This was n
ot good. She had been asleep too long. He had to save her now.

  KEEL RAN DOWN THE forest hill, hiding within the greenery along the way. He did not see too many people, as his particular route only took him past the road once or twice. However, he did keep to darkened alleys once he approached the village. His instincts took him directly to the water. He knew he was close when he saw the gulls overhead and could feel the thud within his chest, almost as if the waves themselves were beating against him, beckoning him home.

  Wedging himself between a stone wall and a window leading to a house, he peeked out onto the glistening surf and sighed when he saw the waves and sparkling sand. The sky was a stunning blue, and the water chanted the sweet melody of peace and serenity.

  This was home.

  There were a few people on the sand walking and speaking to one another, but no one quite brave enough to actually play within the water itself. He shook his head. Of course the humans would think them odd. It had never fully occurred to him that they might be afraid of his domain until this moment.

  Goodness, humans were a deuced peculiar species. His only hope was that one day, they would finally become brave enough and actually try to come out into the waves and experience the water as it was meant to be—lived in and enjoyed. Of course, with their layers of clothing, it might be a bit frightening, seeing hard it was for Pearl even to stand with the gentle waves hitting her.

  Glancing once more out to the sea, he leaped over the wall, intending to climb down to the sand below and collect as much water and seaweed as he could carry, but he screeched to a halt.

  Directly underneath him at the bottom of the hill stood a soldier. When he looked along the base of the beach, where the sand met the village, he saw many soldiers lining the area. The prince was clearly not going to accept that the merfolk were not his property, was he?

  Keel glanced around and found a hat sitting upon a wall a few feet away. He snatched it up and placed it on his head, then walked casually down the hill, as if he sauntered past royal soldiers every day of his life.

  All seemed well enough until he began to approach the shoreline. What should he do now? He had no way of collecting the precious water he needed for Pearl—not a pail or a bucket or even a small pouch to carry it in. And if he simply went to the shore to touch the water, the soldiers might become very suspicious. Why did this species not like water?

  He sighed and looked around.

  This was going to be even trickier than he thought.

  A soldier to the left of Keel seemed to get a bit agitated by his sudden appearance. So Keel kicked at a small shell with the toe of his shoe as if he were in deep thought. When he noticed the man make motions as if to come over and speak with Keel, he pretended not to perceive the movement and turned and walked back up toward the village instead.

  Thankfully, the soldier let him go without protest.

  Once he made it back to Pearl, he could tell things had not progressed. In fact, she had a wet sheen of beaded droplets all along her body, and she was shivering in her sleep. Placing a hand upon her head, he was amazed to feel the heat that met his palm. My goodness. At this rate, she would cook herself.

  Her wound must be infected. There was no other explanation for her illness. And without the saltwater to clean it out, chances were, it would only continue to grow, and with it coming from the back of her head, so close to her brain . . . Keel inhaled sharply. No, he would not allow himself to think such thoughts. He needed to stay focused and get her to the ocean as soon as possible.

  Because if he did not, her chances of survival had just become exceedingly slim.

  She whimpered and fidgeted.

  “Shh, Pearl. I am here. I have not left you,” he whispered as he picked her up in his arms. Her whole body responded by quaking, and then her teeth began to chatter. Even though she felt like fire, she was practically freezing death.

  Warmth. She needed warmth right this instant.

  Hurriedly, he removed his long-sleeved shirt and wrapped it around her. Tucking her into his chest, he gave her as much warmth as he could.

  After an hour, her condition only worsened. She was actually crying out, deliriously so, and shaking. Her whole body covered in the wet sheen. He could not fathom the pain she must be experiencing, either.

  Hang the humans’ royal army. Hang that brainless prince. Keel simply would not sit here under this prickly tree while he watched the love of his life die in his arms because of their thoughtless actions!

  Even if he had to perish to guarantee that she made it to the ocean safely, he would risk his life to do so. This sweet little mermaid deserved to go home!

  AS HE STEPPED OUT from under the covering branches, shirtless, and hoisted her up in his arms, she awoke briefly. Her eyes met his and she whispered, “Keel?” before wincing in pain.

  “Yes, it is me. I am taking you home, my dear. We are getting you out of here so you may get better.”

  “What happened?” she asked, though her body slumped back down in his arms and her eyes lost their focus and shut before he could answer her.

  She had awakened and recognized him. It was not much, but at least he knew she was fighting to live.

  As he walked boldly down the main path, carrying her, he spoke constantly to her pale, sickly form.

  “Live. Do not stop fighting. Do not give up. I need you, my little one. I need your optimism and curiosity and zest for life, and most especially, I need your belief in humanity right now. Allow some small part of this world to be what you imagined it to be. Tell me, teach me that you were correct. That there is some sort of goodness to this race.

  “Allow me to hope more than I ever have before as I face them head on.” He shifted her slipping form a tad bit higher to compensate for the eternal weight determined to pull her out of his arms. “Now, more than ever, I need to grasp onto that light you possess. I do not know what would become of me if you ceased to exist. I cannot fathom it. Your defiance, your ever questioning, your happy exuberance, your bravery, your love of the world around you buoys me and revives me. Tell me I will not lose this piece of my heart. Tell me you will continue to fight this infection.”

  Down he walked. The closer he came to the village, the more people he met along his path. Many stared at him curiously, but did not attempt to stop him. He was in no mood for being stopped anyway. With such distress as he no doubt showed upon his face and the ailing, wounded woman in his arms, perhaps they were afraid to come closer.

  His heart warmed slightly at the thought. Was this his answer? He had heard that landfolk were a suspicious, fearing group of people who did not generally go out of their way to help those who were sickly, since they were too afraid to become ill themselves.

  He grunted at the morally perverted way of thinking. Such selfishness in a sect of people deserved the cruel, hard lives that they lived. It was no wonder they were in such a sad state of misery. They brought it on themselves, never venturing out beyond their own circles and beliefs. Never seeing the goodness and joy that awaited them in all areas of life—not just that which they could learn from other cultures and people and races, but no, more than that. They were shut off from experiencing anything new. Of course they were bitter and cruel and only thinking of their own gain—they had no hope of ever finding light.

  It was a culture as completely riddled with their own fears and prejudices as he had ever imagined before. And now because of a need to control, to greedily latch on and possess and destroy anything remotely different from what they were accustomed to, his own lively light may never shine again.

  She moaned in his arms, a soft, melodic mermaid wail as he stepped foot into the cluster of homes and shops and eateries that made up the village. People turned to stare. Many of them pulled several paces back so they could pass by, unaffected by Pearl’s strange noises.

  His chest felt heavier than the arms that carried her. He knew that mournful song well. He did not have much time left. The mermaid, as she is about to die,
will call out to her loved ones and friends, using a deep cry to let them know she is nearly to the point of passing on. It is as natural as any instinct their bodies possess, and it allows everyone she loves to come to her and pay their respects before she slowly fades away.

  How could their world have been changed so quickly? Tears of sorrow mingled with rage filled his eyes as he continued to march down the cobblestone streets, carrying his heart toward her home. People continued to stare, but he did not make eye contact to see their true reaction to this display. He simply did not care.

  He was not there for them. He had one goal on his agenda, and that was to get her to the healing waters safely and destroy anyone who got in his way.

  Just then an older woman came toward him from amidst the alleyway. She held a small cup in her hand, and a piece of cloth of some sort.

  THE WOMAN CHATTERED AT him with a look of great concern. When she went to touch Pearl, he pulled the mermaid out of her grasp. But she continued to chatter, her sweet face smiling as she beckoned to the cup she was holding and then to Pearl.

  Did she wish to help them? What trickery was this?

  Keel glanced around, glaring as he waited for the soldiers to attack. But all that looked on were astonished humans. Apparently, even they felt the older woman to be acting in an unexpected manner.

  Was she really sincere, then?

  The woman slowly ran her hand over Pearl’s hair and bandages while she chanted a quiet song. Keel’s heart rate increased, still fearful of what the woman might do. But she had such a kind way about her, she reminded him of his own mother.

  “Ruby,” she said as she touched her chest. “My name is Ruby.”

  Was she attempting to communicate with him?

  The woman looked to the girl in his arms and gestured to her. “Name?” she asked.

  “Pearl.”