Chapter 47
I screamed until my voice was hoarse. “What is wrong with you?” I shrieked. He was her ally, and Livia had ended him like he was nothing to her.
“Sweet Magnus has served his purpose. Well, nearly…”
Wide-eyed, I watched as she knelt down next to his glassy-eyed corpse. Digging her long nails into his jaw, she pried his mouth open and began carving out his tongue. I looked away, but it was too late—the contents of my stomach spilled out of me in a violent eruption.
My head was spinning, and my already weakened muscles were positively frail. This woman was insane, and I needed to get Amalie far away from her.
With the taste of sickness still on my tongue, I looked up, desperately searching for anything that could help me in this moment.
The sun had deserted me, leaving nothing but a trail of ghostly clouds in its wake.
Although its stage was set, the moon had not yet deemed to make its appearance—I imagined it was waiting in the wings for the clouds to clear.
Above me, there was nothing but the tree that kept me prisoner and a raven perched on one of its branches, its black feathers rendering it near-invisible against the diluted sort of darkness that had descended over the clearing.
I scanned the ground of pitiful twigs and dried leaves, and my eyes landed on a rock a small distance away from my feet.
About the size of my palm, its jagged edges marked it as my best, and only, choice of weapon.
But it was useless to me; even if my foot could reach the rock, there was no way I could lift it with my hands bound behind me. Unless I could somehow convince her to unshackle me.
My focus snapped back to Livia, who was dropping Magnus’s tongue into the cauldron. It sizzled, and tendrils of foul-smelling smoke swirled upwards, joining the cloudy sky. Next, she took the bloody dagger and started carving the symbol into her own flesh.
I used it as an opportunity to stretch out my foot, but the rock was just out of my reach.
Slouching as low as I could against the trunk, I stretched my leg out again.
The tips of my toes just grazed the rock.
Gritting my teeth, I tried using my foot to drag it towards me, and, miraculously, it shifted a hair’s breadth closer.
I could make it move again—I knew I could. I just had to keep her distracted.
“Are you at least going to tell me what all this is about before you kill me?” I called to her. “You’re brewing a potion for power, yes? You villains are so predictable.”
She used the dagger to slice off a lock of her own hair, then tossed it into the cauldron. She chuckled, turning her cold eyes on me. The light of the fire reflected on her dilated pupils, making her appear more maniacal than ever before.
“Let me tell you a little story,” she said, strolling over to me. Bloody dagger still in hand, she crouched down next to me and spoke.
“Once, there lived a selkie. She loved to spend her days playing in the waves with her brothers and sisters and roaming the ocean. But she was an inquisitive young thing who sought to explore the land and all its curious charms.
“Finally, she decided to visit the mortal lands.
Before she left, her brothers and sisters warned her, ‘Beware the mortal heart. It is a fickle, jealous thing that can drive a person to acts of madness’.
But the selkie did not listen. She shed her hide and left for Anerdor to immerse herself in all its fanciful delights.
“Everywhere she went, her beauty and allure intrigued mortal men and women who all wished to claim her for their own. But she did not belong to the mortals, she belonged to the ocean. Still, she was intoxicated by the fine wine and food, the gifts of clothing and jewelry and gold, the marriage proposals and declarations of love, the physical pleasures of flesh. No matter how much she amused herself with the excesses of the land, she never stopped craving her home. She always returned to the loving embrace of the ocean, leaving a stream of broken hearts in her wake.”
There was a faraway look in her eyes as she recounted her dark story. I listened in rapt disbelief, forgetting my task of retrieving the rock at my foot.
“Until, one day, she caught the attention of a powerful mortal noble.
As soon as he laid eyes on her, he resolved to make her his wife.
The selkie was used to this. She had enchanted many a mortal.
He was handsome and charming and unfathomably wealthy, so she indulged him in his fantasies.
But she underestimated this mortal. He knew what she was, he knew she would return to the ocean and break his heart.
“He would not let that happen.
“Desperate, the noble sought the help of a witch. ‘Find her hide and destroy it so she may never return to the ocean again,’ the witch told the noble.
“One night, the noble drugged the selkie with a powerful sleeping draught the witch had given him. As she lay in a deep, death-like slumber, the noble searched for her hide. Eventually, he found where she had hidden it, and, do you know what he did next?”
I shook my head, already dreading the answer.
A desperate sadness darkened her face. Her voice was thick with emotion as she said, “He threw it in the fire and watched it burn until it was nothing but ash and dust.”
Her eyes shone as she went on, but, this time, it was with unshed tears. “When the selkie woke, she was distraught. Immediately, she knew what the noble had done. She felt as though a piece of her soul had been ripped from her body and irreparably discarded.
“Desperate and crazed, she fled from the noble and sought to find her brothers and sisters, but they were nowhere to be found. She screamed and cried and begged the ocean, but the ocean would not listen to her call. She no longer belonged to it.
“Heart broken and soul shattered, she returned to the noble. He was pleased. He had captured his prize, and she would be his forevermore.
“So, the selkie pretended. She pretended to love the noble. She pretended that his cruelty was a grand, romantic gesture. And she pretended that she was not slowly dying a little more each day that she did not return to the ocean.”
At the pain in her eyes, I almost felt sorry for her. She wanted to return to her home and couldn’t. I wanted to leave my home but couldn’t. The parallels of our stories were not lost on me.
“The selkie and the noble were married and soon returned to his homeland. What the noble didn’t know was that, beneath the exterior of a loving, devoted wife, the selkie was waiting. She was waiting to exact vengeance, and she was waiting for a way to return to the ocean.
“For many years she waited until, one day, a mermaid wandered willingly into her kingdom.
“The selkie was ready with a plan. She knew of a potion. A potion that could transform a person into something else. Someone else.
“The potion was to be brewed under a full moon. But, in order for it to work, it demanded a terrible price.
“Skin of my kin.
“Bone of my enemy.
“Blood of an innocent.
“Tongue of a lover.
“Essence of my body.
“Heart of my desire.
“The selkie knew she would have to acquire these things through a mixture of cunning and brutality. But she did not balk at her task, she relished it. At last, she had her chance to seek her revenge and return to her home. Nothing would stop her.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Cat got your tongue?” With a pointed look at the cauldron, she laughed again. “Sorry Magnus.”
I blew out a breath. I couldn’t believe it. Livia was a selkie. She, like me, was a magical being and a child of Vell. I couldn’t imagine how painful it would be to be kept away from the ocean. But something she said troubled me. “What do you mean by ‘Heart of my desire’?”
“Why, you, of course, silly,” she said. “My desire is to become you.”
All the air left my lungs. “You mean to transform yourself into me?”
A sly smile confirmed the awful truth. “I am going to take on your form, and then I’m going to return to the ocean. Finally.”
“And what if you’re caught? They’ll never let you get away with this.”
A low laugh. “I will be you, lovely. I’ll tell them you escaped from that wicked Livia within an inch of your life.”
“And Amalie?”
“Everyone will be so pleased when they hear that the princess’s savior managed to rescue her once again,” she beamed.
“Livia?”
“Yes, Alara?”
“You’re a sick bitch,” I spat. Ignoring me, she disappeared behind the tree. I already knew what she was going to do, but I still winced at the sharp pain as she carved into my palm.
“No,” she said, making her way back to the smoky cauldron. “I am the ocean’s lost daughter, returning home at last after years of exile.” She encircled it, inspecting it with a critical eye, until finally, she hummed in satisfaction.
She turned her attention back towards me. “Let’s see. What’s left? Heart of my desire.” With a dangerous glint in her eyes she said, “It looks like you’re up, lovely.”
“Does this mean you’re going to release me?” My voice sounded braver than I felt.
Slowly, like a predator anticipating the thrill of its kill, she approached me.
My heart thundered. She, once again, crouched next to me.
Lifting my chin with the bloody dagger, she looked deep into my eyes.
“I think I’ll enjoy wearing this face,” she murmured, stroking my cheek. I recoiled, repulsed by her touch.
And, with that final gesture, she raised the dagger and drove it into my chest.