A sharp inward breath lodged in my throat. It was every bit as bad as I feared. “So you put me in the tragic version?”
Chrissy shrugged. “A story is what it is. I don’t create versions. And speaking of the story, you’ve already stayed here too long. The prince is supposed to get a fleeting, romantic glimpse as you serenade him. You’re not supposed to be here so long that when the two of you part you feel the need to sign each other’s yearbooks.”
Jason tried to sit up, winced, and lay back down again. “Wait, who’s doing what tragically?”
I ignored him. I was breathing in and out so fast I was in danger of hyperventilation. “This isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted to be famous. Fame doesn’t matter if you’re dead.”
She shrugged again, unconcerned. “Most famous people are dead, and the ones who aren’t are going to die someday soon. That’s just part of mortality.”
This wasn’t an accident. This wasn’t a mistake Chrissy made because she was in training. She did this on purpose. I blinked at her, stunned. “What sort of a horrible fairy godmother are you? You said you wanted to help me, and then you took me from my time period and put me in a story where I die?”
Chrissy lifted her chin and sniffed, clearly offended. “I just grant your wishes. What you wish for is your affair.”
Jason held his hand in front of his face, and stared at it perplexed. “Have I always had six fingers?”
Clover made tsking noises as he regarded Jason. “And a charming affair it is. Who wouldn’t want this fine fellow?”
I slapped my tailfin against the floor angrily. “I won’t go along with this. I’m not selling my voice to the sea witch.” Another slap. “What’s the point of singing beautifully if I’m mute as a human?”
Chrissy’s wings slowly slid closed. “I don’t know why you’re so concerned with losing your voice. It’s not like you ever said much in your own defense anyway.”
I bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She rolled her eyes and let out a martyred sigh. “I know I’m your fairy godmother, and therefore, it’s my job to help you have epiphanies, insights, and what not. Really, I don’t mind trudging through your little mortal life, even though up to this point it’s been as exciting as watching flowers wilt. But is it truly necessary to review it with you? I mean, you were there. Habitually silent. Wrapped up in your own world. Shall we talk about how your parents know nothing about what goes on in your life? Or would you rather discuss how you never defend yourself to the Macys and Brooklyns of the world?”
“I . . . I . . .” I stammered. She wasn’t right about me, was she? Okay, maybe I would rather write songs than hang out with kids from school, but that didn’t mean I was wrapped up in my own world. And ignoring bullies was the best way to deal with them, wasn’t it?
“At least as a mermaid,” Chrissy went on, “you can make some waves.”
I didn’t comment on that, just glared at her. Whether I liked it or not, she wasn’t going to undo any of this.
Chrissy lifted her wand. “Now then, are you ready to use your last wish or would you rather continue on with this story and work your tail off?”
Clover wiped bits of stray rain from his jacket. “We’re waiting with baited breath.”
Apparently everybody loved ocean puns. “I haven’t decided what to wish for next.” I needed more time to think. I needed to find a loophole.
Chrissy stepped around to my side, fiddling with her wand. “Did I mention that you’ve stayed here too long?” She gestured to my hair. “Anemones can only be out of the water for so long before they dry out.”
I didn’t pay attention to her. I was drumming my fingers against the stone floor, running through different possibilities. “If I don’t make a bargain with the sea witch, then I don’t become human, and the prince will never grow to love me in any sense of the word. My wish won’t be fulfilled, and you’ll have to undo it.”
Chrissy smiled, unworried. “I’d think about that carefully. If you change a storyline, you never know what might happen.”
I slapped my tailfin against the floor again. “Would it be worse than dying?”
A gust of wind rippled through Chrissy’s hair. The storm was picking up. “If you’re not happy here, use your other wish to go somewhere else.”
“The last time I wished for something I got a death sentence. What’s going to happen next? Earthquakes? Floods?”
“It’s possible. Or not. Life is all about decisions.”
I heard shouts, close by, coming from the ocean. My head snapped in that direction. A longboat filled with half a dozen sailors paddled into the cove, cutting through the gray water. They must have seen where I’d gone and followed. Most of the men had their hands on the oars, rowing, but a sailor in the front wielded a sword and the man next to him held a net. He fingered it, getting ready to throw it.
I had to leave. Could I reach the water in time? I pointed my torso that way and tugged the lower half of my body in the same direction. My tailfin flapped into Jason.
“Ouch,” he complained, and then turned his head toward the boat. “Hey, look! It’s the guys. The smelly ones.” He waved at them weakly. “Did you get pizza?” The effort of raising his head seemed too much and he lay back down.
There’s a reason why seals look ridiculous as they shuffle along the beach with their little useless flippers. It’s impossible not to look that way if you don’t have legs. I wobbled in break-dancing-like motion across the floor, only slower. Too slow. “Order the men to stay away,” I told Jason.
“Okay.” Jason waved at the men again, “I need an order! I want pepperoni and sausage!” He laid his head back on the floor and mumbled, “I told ‘em before to bring me pizza, but they never did.”
I kept making rocking motions with my body to push myself to the water. I was too far away. I wouldn’t make it in time.
Clover eyed the boat warily. “You might want to hurry a bit, lass.”
Chrissy said nothing. She just absentmindedly twirled her wand, waiting.
“Help me,” I pleaded.
“Is that what you wish for?” she asked. “You want to escape from the net?”
“No.” I wouldn’t waste a wish on something that would only help me for a moment.
The men were almost in range of the gazebo. The one holding the net fingered it eagerly. “That wench standing with the mermaid is a fairy! Shall we catch her too?”
“Nay,” another sailor insisted. “Nets can’t hold fairies. She’ll only curse you. Just seize the mermaid. She’s the one who took the prince’s soul. Look at him—laying there all soulless-like.”
I turned to Chrissy, imploringly. “You’re my fairy godmother. Can’t you help me without using my third wish?”
Chrissy tapped her wand against her fingertips. “I have helped you. I warned you twice that you needed to go. And when you said you were going to change the story, I told you it might not turn out how you wanted.”
Clover put his shoulder on my tailfin and pushed. It made no difference in my shuffling speed. He was as nervous as Chrissy was calm. Clover let out a huff. “All right, miss high-and-mighty godmother. You’ve made your point. We all should listen to you. Now give the lass a hand and toss her in the water. I don’t care for the looks of those men. Not one bit. ”
Chrissy didn’t move. Her wings opened slowly, her gaze intent. “Your wish?”
I didn’t have a choice. A surge of anger ran through me. I didn’t want to use my last wish to just undo the first two. Now that I’d heard my singing voice, I wanted to keep it—needed to in a way I couldn’t describe. My songs would finally match what had been in my heart all along.
I’d have to be careful how I phrased my last wish. I couldn’t leave room for interpretation that could keep me a mermaid.
The man on the boat swung the net into the air. It flew toward me like a reaching hand and landed with a heavy thud. I pushed at the ropes, attempting to free myself from. It was scratchy and smelled of dead fish. As I struggled, the net tightened, tangling in my hair and catching on my tailfin.