AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My mind was muddled, and I rolled out my neck, wondering what it was I was supposed to be doing.
“Uh…” My eyes jumped between my box of clothes and my bedroll.
What did I come in here for again?
“Oh my goodness, Lee, you’re shaking.” Claira’s voice snapped me out of my stupor, and she eased the curtain closed behind us. Her brows arched in concern. “I’m not sure you should keep King Eamon waiting, but if you need me—”
“Stay here,” I said, suddenly remembering why I’d come to my room. I let the netting drop from my hips and began digging through my box of clothes.
Claira was right. I couldn’t keep my father waiting. Any second I was late would be an extra second of—
“Your hands are trembling. Do you want me to go with you? I can tell him it wasn’t your fault and—”
“No!” I shot back more forcefully than I’d meant to. “No, just…please.”
I slid on a pair of pants and slipped through the curtain. After pulling on a shirt, I glanced back, just to make sure Claira hadn’t followed behind me.
The walk through the warehouse felt like being lost in a fog, but my feet knew the way, and when my eyes focused again, I was standing in front of a flat metal door.
Storeroom 2B. The only room with a lock.
My hand fell on the knob, and I turned it slowly, mechanically, making sure to straighten my shoulders before crossing the threshold.
A fist greeted me, and it swung wildly, connecting with my chest and sending me rearing back against the door, slamming it the rest of the way shut behind me.
“What do you think you’re doing, sneaking off with some mermaid while my trident is lost?” Another punch, and my spine clapped against the doorframe. “Our kingdom is wasting away on the bottom of the damned sea!” he spat, the kingly authority in his voice distorting to a biting hiss. His left hand came next, coiling around my throat before casting me down to the floor with a violent thrash of his arm. My head collided with the ground, and it took everything in me not to curl up on the cold concrete. Not to show him my fear.
“So, you’re taking your punishment like a real merman this time,” he taunted, his heavy footsteps stalking to the place where he kept his new favorite tool now that he’d lost his trident. I could hear, practically feel, the metal scraping as he lifted it.
“You know what comes next,” he said, his voice eerily calm, and I bit down hard, letting my teeth sink into my tongue. I needed something, anything, to keep the screams from coming out.
My eyes were blurry, but I watched the dark head of the mallet as he raised it, his icy eyes wide with madness. Wicked satisfaction spread over his lips. “It’s the only way you learn.”
The mallet came crashing down, and I choked on my tongue as the metal connected. I could feel the bones in my leg splinter, and my mind roared to run, to plead, to turn the mallet back on him, but I held it all back.
“And the other,” he grunted, taking in a long breath as he lifted the mallet back in the air. Blood sputtered from my mouth, muffling my whimpers as the dull, flattened head struck me again, shattering my other leg in one swing.
My father’s body hovered above me in cold, savage silence. Only when he seemed sure I would not cry out did he let the heavy tool rest on the ground. His lips were moving again, the low rumble of his voice reaching my ears, but the buzzing sound of my pulse drowned out everything around me. The room was wheeling and spinning circles, but I didn’t dare close my eyes. I stared up at my father’s face, grounding myself with it as everything else spun.
Then I saw it—the bottle he held in his hand—and a familiar desperation hit me.
“You won’t fail me again.” I read the words on his lips and forced my neck to shake in agreement as enthusiastically as he’d trained me to. “That’s right,” he spat.
He threw the bottle at my feet, and it shattered the moment it hit, sending a shower of water and glass pouring over my legs.
Pop.
The relief was instant as the transformation overtook me, morphing and reforming my bones. I was trapped, helpless, and suffocating in my shirt for the second time today, but I was still beyond thankful for my cursed fish form. A shadow moved over me, and suddenly I was at the mercy of the bottom of my father’s heel.
“You think I won’t do it,” he growled, and I didn’t dare move a single gill. “But soon you’ll learn there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.” His heel retreated, and I felt sickening vibrations as he dragged the mallet back to its usual hidden spot.
Pop.
My bones creaked and grated as they snapped back into their original place. Even with the injuries healed, I knew the phantom pain would linger for hours, radiating deep from the bones as my body recovered from the shock.
“Get yourself cleaned up,” my father spat, and his foot delivered one last parting blow to my ribs.
A rasp barely escaped my throat from the impact, and fear paralyzed me as my mind raced, wondering if he’d heard it. The storeroom door squeaked open and slammed back shut with a hardthunk.
