Prince of Song & Sea

BY THE next dawn, a small carrack with a crew of sixty-four was ready to set out. They set sail as the first peachy rays of the day spilled out across the shore. The ship, the Laughing Dove, was small, agile, and—unless pirates got desperate or sneaky—able to outrun anything thrown at it.

After leaving his mother’s study, Eric had gone straight to Vanni and Gabriella and told them everything—why he was cursed, that his true love had a voice as pure as their soul, and that his mother had hidden everything. Explaining the details helped Eric come to terms with it all, and his friends agreed to join him on his quest.

Grimsby had been harder to convince. Eric knew that he definitely couldn’t tell his adviser he wanted to hunt down a witch. The man would chain him to his desk. So Eric told Grimsby what his mother had revealed about the language of the curse and said he wanted to find the Isle of Serein to learn more about the witch responsible in hopes of reversing his enchantment without the need of a kiss. Even then Grimsby had protests, but he eventually conceded. Eric would be king soon and would not have time to search for answers; if there was a chance they could figure out how to break his curse now, everything would be easier.

“I’m telling you, it’s empty sea. I’ve been there before, and there’s no island,” said Gabriella, wrapping her hair up for sleep. Eric, Vanni, and Gabriella were preparing to rest in the captain’s quarters. It was a small room plastered with various maps and taken up almost entirely by a bed, a table, and chairs.

It was Gabriella’s first outing as a captain—and seeing her face when he offered her the position had been priceless. She was the obvious choice; she already knew about Eric’s curse, so he wouldn’t have to lie to his captain. The crew knew the voyage had something to do with Queen Eleanora’s disappearance but that the details of the trip had to be kept a secret. “These waters aren’t a mystery. If there was some big area encircled by storms, we’d know.”

“My mother wouldn’t have marked it if it was nothing,” Eric insisted.

During their first few days out at sea, Eric had not had much time to speak with his friends. They were busy working on the ship while Eric struggled to keep a seasick Grimsby watered and fed. Fortunately, Grimsby had retired to his quarters early in the evening, giving the trio some time to talk.

Eric and Gabriella had spent the day before setting sail poring over his mother’s maps and notes, and they had gleaned from it the path of his mother’s last voyage. They had decided to sail to her ship’s last known location and search for the isle from there.

“It’s a witch. I doubt she lets people just sail up to her home. I bet there’s some trick to it,” Vanni said, still reading one of the queen’s notes. He gagged and threw down the papers. “It says here that she trapped a merfolk in a dam because they refused to deal with her and let humans keep them like a pet?”

Eric nodded.

“Petty and cruel,” muttered Vanni. “If all of these are true, she’s been torturing and killing folks for decades.”

“That’s why if we do find her, losing the fight isn’t an option,” Eric said, and covered a yawn. “Weird no one’s heard about the Blood Tide.”

They had planned on following his mother’s map to wherever it led and then worrying about the Blood Tide later, but it was still on his mind.

“Okay, hear me out,” said Vanni, and held up his hands. “Instead of looking for some mysterious island, we hold a singing competition and tell everyone the winner gets to be your wife. No more curse!”

Eric glared at him, and Vanni shrugged. Maybe telling them everything had been a mistake.

“What? We’re riding off into the sunset in search of a powerful witch. Let me find joy in small things.”

“Finding my true love can wait until after the witch is dealt with. My mother made it clear that was what was most important,” Eric said, and sighed. He marked off one of the maps and sat on the bed next to Vanni. “I always wanted to be the hero in a story, but I thought it would be a comedy, not a tragedy.”

“How does one fight a witch?” Gabriella asked, and flopped backward on the bed.

“I’m guessing we won’t get more than one chance. But she’s not immortal. The stories would mention it if she were, and they only go back so far,” said Eric. He swallowed and rubbed his hands together. “Speaking of her, you two don’t even really need to meet the sea witch or deal with her. I’m the only one who needs to face her, so—”

He stopped. Without a word, Gabriella was pulling a purse from her pocket and then tossing Vanni five small coins. He caught them and winked at Eric.

“Knew you’d try to princeling out of it,” he said. “We don’t need you to be our savior.”

“You’re stuck with us.” Gabriella nudged Eric with a foot. “If you think we’re letting you hunt down a witch alone, I’m insulted. You should have more faith in us than that.”

And, like a well-placed fist, that hit the part of him holding on to his fear.

“Fine,” Eric said. “I won’t play savior if you two won’t.”

“More importantly,” said Gabriella, “have you figured out where the Isle of Serein might be other than ‘northwest’?”

“Deciphering some of her notes is harder than keeping Max away from the ship cats,” Eric said. Max was currently asleep beneath the table, exhausted from chasing cats up and down the deck. “I know plenty of stories—the river dragon down south, the Valley of the Seven Men, Scylla and Charybdis, the sack man, the Nain of Sait—and I have never heard of the Isle of Serein.”

True or not, Eric had clung to stories as a child. Distant places, new people, and exciting lives so unlike his own. The dashing princes in those stories were sure of themselves and always saved the day. They were what people expected when they looked at Eric.

“But how many languages do you know?” Vanni asked.

“Quite a few,” said Eric flatly. “What do you think I spent my childhood doing?”

“Counting your money?” Gabriella shrugged. “I thought of it often while dragging in nets and getting slapped in the face by fish. ‘That Eric. I bet he’s on five thousand vali by now.’”

“Please,” Eric muttered. “I count much faster than that.”

He pulled his flute from his shirt pocket and twirled it like a baton. Legends, like merfolk or striges, were common enough, and most superstitions were based in fact. Gabriella had tipped a full bottle of wine into the sea before they left the bay as tribute to King Triton of the Sea, and there had been clear skies since. Those were the oldest stories along the coast—an immortal king with skin as blue as the sea and hair green as grass beneath the waves who lived in a golden palace and blew a magical conch to calm the weather. Or, if displeased by sailors, to call down storms and whirlpools.

“Plenty of mysterious islands in history,” Gabriella said. “I like that one rumored to be up in Sait surrounded by water so clear the seafloor looks like fields and you can pluck fish from the waves like oranges from a tree. They say merfolk tend to them like gardens.”

“They say they talk to animals, too.” Vanni laughed.

“None of those stories help us find Serein, though,” said Eric.

“Sleep on it, then.” Gabriella rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head. “But on your cot. You can have the bed tomorrow.”

“Fine,” said Eric with a laugh. He settled down on the small cot wedged between the table and the bed and covered his face with an arm. “Tomorrow it is then, but—”

The clang of warning bells outside interrupted Eric. Gabriella shot up, lurching out of the bed with a gasp. Vanni and Eric grabbed their swords and knives, and Gabriella ripped the scarf from her head. Eric tossed her a pair of boots, bracing his shoulder against the door to the quarters. Vanni came up beside him.

“What do you think it is?” Vanni asked.

The bells chimed so loudly that Eric’s teeth ached. He opened the door a crack.

“On deck!” screamed one of the crew. “Cut their lines!”

“Is there any point in asking you to hide?” Gabriella joined them at the door and glanced at Eric. “Just asking so I can tell Grimsby I tried.”

Eric shook his head and peeked out the door. Light flickered off blades, and water washed the boards in an inky black. The striped shirts of the five dozen Laughing Dove crew members were easy to spot in the dim light, and it was clear they were outnumbered. Pirates were climbing over the sides of the ship faster than the ropes could be cut and overpowering anyone in their paths.

A stout pirate crossed before the door. Eric shoved it open, knocking the pirate to the deck, and quickly took their two knives and pistol.

“No bullets,” said Eric, tossing it aside. “Let’s hope they’re all out of ammunition.”

Gabriella startled and swept her foot across Eric’s ankles. He toppled, landing hard on his knees. A blade whistled just over his head, tearing a few hairs free, and Eric threw an arm back at his attacker. He caught them in the thigh, and they stumbled away. Gabriella dove after them and planted a foot in their back. She kicked them against the taffrail. Eric leapt up and grabbed the pirate’s ankles, tipping them over the side of the ship. Gabriella darted away to help Vanni fight off a woman with an ax.

A rope had been tied over the rail, and Eric sawed through it with his sword. It fell with a loud splash. Curses echoed in the dark below.

A footstep cracked behind Eric. He twisted away, the blade of a short sword piercing the railing where he had been. It stuck in the wood, the pirate holding the hilt let out a curse, and Eric rammed his hilt into their temple. They fell aside and groaned. Eric leapt into the fight.

There must have been eighty pirates on the deck, crowding the ship so that each step resulted in knocked elbows and barely dodged hits. Eric edged along the taffrail and cut as many ropes and ladders as he could. If any more climbed on board, they would lose for sure. A pirate turned as he cut one last rope. She lunged at him with a dagger.

Eric pushed it away with a drag of his sword across his chest. She struck out with a heavy staff, and Eric moved to block it without a thought. His feet slid into place on their own as a sharp calmness settled over him. Eric parried her next attack.

A yellow blur shot past and rammed into the pirate, falling in a tangle of limbs.

“Vanni!” Eric shouted, but another pirate lunged for Eric. They forced him away from Vanni, and Eric dodged their attacks. He disarmed them with a twist of his knife and kicked their legs out from under them.

Gabriella helped Eric heave the pirate over the side of the ship. Vanni had wrestled his opponent to her stomach and pinned her with a knee to the back, but another had caught sight of him. She lunged for Vanni with a metal club.

“Vanni!” Eric screamed. “Left.”

Vanni dove left. The attacking pirate tripped over her prone companion, tumbling to the deck. Vanni yanked the club from her hands.

“This is easier than on the sand,” Vanni said breathlessly.

Eric snorted, parrying a slash from a knife. Red swirled in the corner of his sight, and Eric spun. He fought on instinct as he watched the scuffle across the ship at the bow.

Grimsby fought with a wide-bladed, single-edged sword. He moved faster than Eric had ever seen, sweeping the one-handed sword in quick, deadly attacks. His opponent was a tall white-skinned pirate in a long red coat and broad red hat, and they moved with the same grace as Grimsby. A dark metal cuirass beneath their coat blocked a slash from Grimsby, and a hawk’s feather bobbed as they leapt back. They fought like Eric’s mother once had, wielding a long sword with one hand and resting their gloved off hand halfway up the blade. They thrust at Grimsby’s left side, and he stumbled away. The red-coated pirate grinned.

And even in the dim light of the moon, Eric recognized them.

“Surrender. You’re severely outnumbered,” said Captain Sauer—one of the oldest and most prolific pirates on the seas. “In terms of people, not years, of course.”

The boards shifted behind Eric. He spun, sword coming up to guard his ribs. The pirate who attacked him was no older than him. Like the one fighting Grimsby, she wore a feather pinned to her straw hat and a cuirass beneath her coat. Starlight glittered deep in her black eyes as she lunged again. Eric sidestepped the blow from her staff.

Eric glanced around—most of the pirates were using batons and staffs instead of knives. The only one fighting for real was Sauer, and that was because Grimsby was more vicious than he looked.

The girl was fast, far faster than Eric. Each attack came quicker than the last until Eric’s heels hit a barrel. She smacked him in the temple.

Eric stumbled. Gabriella raced from behind him and knocked aside the girl’s attack. The girl fell back.

“Nora,” Sauer shouted. “Quit playing.”

The girl—Nora—rolled her eyes and lunged. Gabriella dodged, glancing at Eric.

“You alive?” she asked Eric.

He nodded and shook his aching head. “Only ringing.”

The rattle of his teeth still echoed in his ears. He didn’t want to see what this girl was like when she fought with a blade. Gabriella parried Nora’s next broadside attack.

Around them, Laughing Dove was losing the fight. Eric forced himself to his feet.

“Afraid of blood?” Gabriella asked the girl.

“Afraid of what comes after,” said Nora. “Scarier things than you on the sea.”

Gabriella lunged forward, meeting the girl blow for blow.

She was taller than Nora by a head and took a wide slash at her legs. Nora slid back, a smile on her full lips, and swung at Gabriella’s chest. She moved with a confidence Gabriella didn’t have, gliding from block to attack with ease.

“Eric!” Gabriella took two quick steps back and held out her off hand.

Eric tossed her his dagger. She caught it without looking and went on the offensive. Eric tried to get to Grimsby.

At the bow, Grimsby crumbled to his knees, and Captain Sauer, gasping and disarmed, kicked him back. Sauer reached for their sword and leaned in close. Eric’s stomach dropped.

Grimsby plunged his hand into his coat. A shot rang out. Sauer fell backward, blood splattered across the rail. They steadied themself, blood dripping down their badly grazed cheek, and covered their face with a hand. It was the first shot Eric had heard all night. Smoke curled out of the bullet hole in Grimsby’s coat. The whole ship came to a stop.

“That,” said Sauer loudly, “is a single-shot pistol and the single mistake I’ll allow you.”

Grimsby sneered. “How magnanimous of you.”

“Now, Captain, wherever you are,” said Sauer, taking Grimsby by the throat and pulling a thin knife from their belt. The blade bit into his neck. “Have everyone drop their weapons and kneel, or I’ll kill him.”

A thin line of blood beaded up along the knife.

Eric stepped forward, and Grimsby’s head whipped to him. Even in the dark, Eric could feel Grimsby’s gaze on him.

Don’t you dare draw attention to yourself, it seemed to say. You’re the prince, not a distraction.

Eric swallowed, heart fluttering in his throat. “You’ve avoided spilling blood so far.”

Sauer turned to him. “And it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?”

The tip of the blade pressed into Grimsby’s windpipe, and Gabriella nodded.

“You all heard them,” said Gabriella. “Weapons down and kneel.”

In no time, Sauer’s group had them tied up in neat little lines between the masts. A purple welt marred Vanni’s cheek, and Gabriella’s bottom lip was busted. Not a single person had died, but neither were they unharmed. Grimsby was the worst off, breathing harder than he did in Vellona’s summers and oozing blood, but he still kept his eyes on Sauer. The pirate was standing at the bow and signaling with a lantern to a far-off ship in the dark. They hadn’t even taken the time to bandage their wound.

“Pick it up!” Nora said, her deep black skin taking on a gray cast in the lantern light as she raced up and down the ship. Tension kept her shoulders ramrod straight. “Blood in the water—that means five minutes. If you’re not in your boats by then, you’re on your own.”

Eric had thought they were trying not to kill anyone, but that sounded like something else.

“What happens when blood gets in the water?” Eric asked a nearby pirate, but they ignored him.

Grimsby tossed his pocket watch into the ocean rather than hand it over, having the audacity to glare at Eric the whole time, and Sauer rolled their eyes. Nora tried to take Gabriella’s sword, but Gabriella had looped the rope binding her hands through the hilt.

“Proud of yourself?” Nora asked. “Pity. Sword like that deserves a good swordswoman.”

Gabriella, completely at her mercy, rolled her eyes and said, “That’s why it’s so attached to me.”

Nora’s lip twitched. She turned out Gabriella’s pockets, finding nothing, and pulled a silk scarf from her own coat. Gently, Nora draped the green scarf over Gabriella’s hair and tied it behind her neck. Nora patted her cheek.

“In case it rains,” she said with a wink that made Gabriella swallow. “Can’t leave you out here to rust with your sword.”

“For Triton’s sake, Nora,” Sauer muttered as they passed. “Stop flirting. It’s a robbery.”

“Why are you in a rush?” asked Eric, letting Sauer take the few vali he had on him. With the threat of death by pirates gone, Eric’s panic had faded. “What’s so scary out at sea other than you, Sauer?”

They stopped over Eric, head tilted so that their hat covered half their face, and grinned. “Not much, but nothing I care to encounter tonight.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” said Nora. “Blood Tide’s coming in.”

“What?” Eric felt cold and hot all at once, his skin tingling with unease. “You know what the Blood—”

Sauer stuffed a discarded glove into Eric’s mouth. “Enough talk.”

“Unhand him!” Grimsby’s voice cracked from the other side of Vanni. “No matter how much you manhandle us—”

“Which I have no intention of doing,” drawled Sauer.

“Or how much you steal,” Grimsby continued and ignored them, “you will not be able to escape justice, you cowards.”

“Listen here, you stick-in-the-mud that sprouted legs,” Sauer said, rounding on Grimsby. “You are bound, you are unfortunately not gagged, and you are moments away from meeting the monsters most do not live to talk about. We could leave you here to their shallow mercy, but instead are risking our own lives to ensure your lives. So what if I gag a boy and take his gold? What will you do?”

Grimsby opened his mouth again, and Vanni kicked him.

“Thought we were in a rush,” Nora mumbled.

Sauer made a cutting motion at her.

Most of the pirates had already left the deck and were rowing back to Sauer’s ship. A pale fog swept unnaturally fast over the sea, swallowing up the boats and the flashing lantern from Sauer’s ship. Nora cursed.

“Everyone out now,” she cried.

“Wait,” Eric said, spitting out the glove. “What monsters? What’s the Blood Tide?”

“The worst sort of monster,” she said, twisting one of her locs back and forth. Her gaze never left the horizon. “The one you love the most.”

Eric sat back on his heels. “What?”

Whispers rose up across the deck. Sauer’s head snapped up, looking every which way in the dark. Eric followed their gaze but saw nothing. Nora peered over the edge of the ship.

“Sauer,” she said, “you ready?”

No one was looking at Sauer. Worse, the whispering was louder now, but no one’s mouth was moving. The Laughing Dove crew searched the horizon anxiously, testing their bonds. Vanni stared at the fog as if he had never seen anything like it.

“Eric?” a voice called across the ship, and Eric turned to it, but no one was looking at him.

Tears rolled down Vanni’s cheeks, and Gabriella tried to unknot the rope around her hands with her teeth.

“Gab—”

“Shut up,” hissed Gabriella, peering out over the water. “I can’t hear her.”

“Who?” asked Eric. He smacked his boots against the deck. “Sauer, get back here! What is this?”

Gabriella lunged toward the edge of the ship, bonds and skin in tatters from her teeth and nails. A wide, glassy grief lit her eyes, and she choked back a sob. She howled a name Eric rarely heard her mention.

“Mila!”