“Stop!” Nik shoves Iker away, and though Iker barely budges, I lose my grip on him and stumble into the table.
Iker stands his ground but holds out his hand to haul me up. His eyes flash at Nik. “Look what the witch has made you do.” I push his hand away and get to my feet.
“She isn’t a witch,” I say.
“I am not.” Annemette’s voice is firm. She’s done backing down. “And I must go.”
“Doesn’t he deserve to know why?” Iker says then points a hand toward Nik. “The man you’ve been tossing yourself at out oflovefor three straight days? If you aren’t leaving in the middle of Havnestad’s biggest ball for nefarious purposes, surely you can tell him the reason. At least give the man that.”
Annemette doesn’t look at Iker. Doesn’t look at me. Or even Nik. She just spins for the door. The boys freeze in shock—the both of them unused to not receiving a reply to their questions—but I whir into motion, running after her, snatching her hand just before she opens the French doors.
“Evie, it’s almost midnight! Let me go. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing Nik can do!”
But I won’t let her die like this, and I hang on to her arm tightly. In her struggle, Annemette gets turned around enough that I can look her in the eye. “If you won’t let me help, then tell him what you did. He’ll understand. Maybe he does love you and just needs a push. Isn’t it worth a shot? Tell him—”
“Tell me what?” Nik asks behind me.
Annemette clamps her lips shut and shakes her head as she tries to buck away from my grip.
He places a hand on my shoulder. “Evie, what is it?”
Annemette catches my eye, pleading.
“I won’t have you leave us, Annemette. I won’t,” I cry. Her breath hitches, but I am strong, and I know this is right. I raise my voice just enough that the boys can hear it but nobody beyond the balcony.
“She’s a mermaid.” I turn to Nik. “She saved you on your birthday—dragged you from the sea.”
Shock registers on his face as his eyes meet Annemette’s.
Iker huffs out a great laugh. “Sure she is. And I’m the ghost of Leif Erikson.”
I hold his smiling eyes. “No, I saw her. Before you scrambled over the rock wall. She was on land with him. She was—”
“Singing.” A smile touches Nik’s lips as he says it. A smile just for Annemette, whose expression only shows abrewing anger. “You were singing. I thought it was Evie, but she doesn’t sing. It was you.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” Annemette growls at me. “We had a deal.”
My stomach sinks, my betrayal tearing at my insides.
“Annemette, don’t!” I shout, but fury flashes in her eyes as she turns to the boys. “I am a mermaid, it’s true. But, Evie... Evie is awitch! Her aunt is a witch! Her mother was a witch! She does magic every day right under your proud Øldenburg noses!”
She wrenches out of my hands with a shove that sends me to the floor.
Nik is staring at me, his face in a complete state of shock. “A witch, Evie?”
But before I can respond, Iker moves in front of me. My Iker. Strong, protective, stubborn, loyal Iker. The look on his face is one I’ve never known. Then, without so much as a pause, he bares his teeth and shouts, “Guards!”
FOUR DAYS BEFORE
The ship belonging to the royal fisherman of the sovereign kingdomof Havnestad was easy enough to find. Just up from Østerby Havn—far enough from the Øresund Strait to sight the best whales, but close enough to home that the ship’s captain would make it back to Havnestad by the final night of Lithasblot.
The sun was failing, twilight setting in late, as was usual for a summer night this far north. Despite the hour, there was a flurry of activity aboard theLittle Greta, the crew cleaning up after a long day. Evie’s father was moving about too, not leaving the work to his crew—on a ship so small, everyone had to carry his own weight, most of all the captain.
In the shadows, the little mermaid considered the best course of action.
She could call a large wave, as she had to claim the chest of clothes now trailing her through the water, kept in tow with a simple spell of binding magic. Or perhaps a storm more powerful than the one she’d used to pull Nik under—wreck the ship and claim the whole crew. But no, she wanted Evie to feel the agony of her father dying when others easily survived. A sharper pain, that.
She knew firsthand.
