Chapter 392:

Larissa

There’s nothing as delightful as the open water—the feel of the waves against my skin, the salt on my lips, the endless expanse of stars reflected on the surface.

The ship is far enough that I can’t hear the crew, can’t smell the humans, can’t feel anything but the sea.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?"

I wake with a start.

My eyes fly open. My heart pounds. I whip around, searching for the voice—

No one should be this close to me.

No one.

I can sense creatures in the water for leagues. I can feel their movements, their heartbeats, their intent. It’s how I’ve survived this long, how I’ve avoided capture, how I’ve stayed free.

But I didn’t sense her.

She’s sitting on a plank. Cross-legged. Watching me. Her dark hair is loose, blowing in the wind. Her coat is black, blending into the night. Her face is half in shadow, half illuminated by the moon.

The one they call the Devil.

I put distance between us, a tail’s length, then two, then three. My heart is still pounding. My hands are trembling.

The prince warned me about her. She’s dangerous, he said. Don’t trust her. Don’t let her catch you alone.

Everyone on the ship believes the same.

"Don’t be afraid." She smiles. "I won’t eat you."

I just watch her.

I turn to look at the ship in the distance—The Bunny, black and silent on the water. She was there moments ago.

I saw her on the deck, talking to her crew.

How did she get here?

How did she cross the distance so quickly?

How did she sneak up on me without making a sound?

The plank she’s sitting on is black—slick, strange, catching the moonlight in odd ways. It doesn’t bob with the waves like wood should.

It’s stable. Weirdly stable. As if it’s not floating at all, but resting on something solid beneath the water.

She looks like she’s sitting on still land.

Not the water I’m in,the water that moves and shifts and lives.

She scares me.

Reminds me of a hunting shark I once saw when I was younger,the way it moved through the water, silent and patient, waiting for its prey to let its guard down.

The Devil shifts on her plank.

"Far from home, are you not, little princess?"

I don’t answer.

I can’t speak human words in this form anyway.

"Does your father know you’re chasing around a human prince?" She trails her fingers through the dark water, stirring ripples that spread toward me.

Of course not. Father hates humans.

"Makes sense." She nods. "He would never let you."

I freeze.

I didn’t say anything out loud.

I didn’t think anything out loud.

Can she read my mind?!

"Who knows." She smiles.

My heart races.

What does she want from me?

"What could I possibly want from a little fish such as yourself?" She tilts her head. "If it were your father, maybe..."

No!

I splash my tail. Water sprays. The droplets catch the moonlight, falling like stars.

My father is controlling, but he loves me. I won’t let you do anything to him.

She raises an eyebrow.

"But I’m not interested. Just bored. I’m sure you’ve heard on the ship—I’m prone to bouts of absolute boredom." She yawns it’s wide, theatrical, dismissive.

She leans forward slightly.

"What do you know about the human world?"

***

Daphne

[Host. Why are you doing this?]

The System asks from my shoulder as we watch the little mermaid swim away. Her dark hair trails behind her like ink in water, her tail shimmering in the moonlight.

Every day for the past two weeks, I’ve been telling her tales about the human world. About the prince’s home kingdom. Interesting tales.

I haven’t lied.

Not once.

[You are lying!]

"I didn’t say anything wrong." I stand on the plank, balancing easily, arms spread.

[Lies of omission are still lies!]

I laugh.

The sound carries across the water, swallowed by the waves.

"Well..."

The plank floats toward The Bunny. When I reach the ship, I release my claws,sink them into the wood and pull myself up. The plank shifts beneath me, softens, melts. I pick it up.

It’s a blob now.

It’s actually really useful. Normally, a plank this small couldn’t support my weight. But this isn’t a normal plank.

It has to be useful with how expensive it was.

I climb up the side of the ship, hand over hand, silent as a shadow. My boots find holds that shouldn’t exist. My fingers grip wood that should be too slick.

I jump onto the deck.

My footsteps make no sound.

No one notices me.

The crew is sleeping, mostly. The prince’s men are huddled near the mast, wrapped in blankets, their faces drawn and tired.

I walk to my cabin.

Close the door.

[Host. Why are you doing this?]

The System lands on the back of my chair. Its beady eyes watch me.

I sit. Stretch. Smile.

"You’re so curious, huh?"

[I am merely observing.]

"Observing."

[Questioning.]

"Questioning."

[Asking.]

I lean back. The wood creaks beneath me.

The parrot tilts its head.

"Okay." I fold my arms. "Okay."

It leans forward. Interested.

"Still not telling."

I laugh.

The parrot glares.

[Host.]

For something supposedly without emotions, it makes it so easy to tease. The way its feathers puff out. The way its beady eyes narrow. The way it shifts from foot to foot, like it’s barely restraining itself from pecking my face off.

Adorable.

"What?" I wave my hand. "You’ll see. No need to be impatient."

It glares at me. All threatening with its little parrot face.

Oh noo...Terrifying.

[I am not impatient.]

"You’re tapping your foot."

It looks down. Its claw is, indeed, tapping against my shoulder. It freezes. Looks back at me.

[That is not—]

"Your feathers are puffed."

[They are—]

"Your eyes are narrowed."

[They are not—]

"You’re literally vibrating with annoyance."

The parrot goes still.

Very still.

Its beak opens. Closes. Opens again.

[I am a system. Systems do not have emotions. I cannot be annoyed. I cannot be impatient. I cannot vibrate with annoyance.]

"Sure."