Part of Your World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,29

pull of her lips into the ghost of a smile, then stepped into what was very obviously Vanessa's domestic demesne.

There was a ridiculous bed shaped like a scallop, or maybe a deep-sea clam. The ridges were wide and deep but far too precise and symmetrical for either creature. Its plaster shell was open, so the bed was in what would have been the bottom half of the mollusk; the top half stood upright as a decorative backdrop hung with golden lanterns and convenient little shelves for knickknacks. The whole thing was upholstered in purple silk the color of a deadly Portuguese man-o'-war.

The rest of the room, crowded by the bed though it was, was further filled with mismatched and disturbing treasures. There were statues of twisted and tortured heroes, their faces distorted in agony. Covering one entire wall was a painting of squiggly, squirming humans m some sort of fiery cavern. There was pain on their faces but glee on the visage of the one who was tormentmg them—he was red and bearded and had a trident like Triton's.

Triton himself didn't appear to be anywhere obvious m the room. Ariel moved farther m, pickmg up and putting down the disgusting little pieces of bric-a-brac. Among all the horror was an ironically delicate vanity covered m mother-of-pearl—and, intriguingly, all manner of exquisite little glass bottles. Scents from the east, oils from the west, attar of roses, nut butter, extract of myrrh, sandalwood decoctions, jasmine hydrosols... Everything to make someone smell exquisite.

Or to mask whatever it was she really smelled like, Ariel thought wryly.

Or were the oils and butters for more medicinal reasons—for the cecaelia's skin? Ariel found herself lookmg at her own hands, rubbing them over each other lightly. Last time she had only been in the Dry World for a few days. Was it—literally—drying? Was it difficult, or painful, for creatures from the sea to remain for months battered by void and air, despite their magic?

Ariel shivered. Magic didn't make everything simpler. Crossing the thresholds of worlds was no mmor thing.

But none of the bottles looked like it contained a polyp.

Father? she asked silently. Where are you?

Footsteps rang in the hallway outside. Frozen, Ariel waited for them to pass. But they didn't. They came in...to Eric's apartment.

The mermaid looked around. If whoever came in knew that Vanessa didn't like heels of bread or drink wine at that time of day., .the jig was up.

The intruder continued to pad around maddeningly. There were accompanying sounds of things being lifted, patted, folded. A maid, straightening or cleaning. ..Ursula's room would be next. What should she dol

What would she do if she were the old Ariel and a shark were huntmg her?

Without a second thought, the Queen of the Sea folded herself down as small as possible and hunkered down under the vanity.

Less than a second later the maid came into the doorway.

Ariel saw padded cloth house shoes and closed her eyes, willing invisibility.

As if the person standing there knew Ariel's position and were bent on drawing out her torture as long as possible, she continued to just stand there: neither leaving the doorway, nor entering Vanessa's room.

Ariel felt the strange sensation of sweat poppmg out on the back of her neck. It was thoroughly unpleasant, and tickled besides. She had to fight down an urge to scratch, or move, or stretch. I am a queen, she told herself as the itch became maddening. I am not ruled by my body.

"Max!" the maid called out. Ariel could just see her skirts move as she put her hands on her hips. "Max, where are you? Dinnertime! C'mon, you silly thing. You can't have gotten far...."

There was no impatience m her voice, only love for the old dog.

But Ariel was so angry with the servant's existence she wanted to turn her into a sea cucumber. Just for a few minutes.

"Well, I know you wouldn't want to be in here, the princess s room," the maid said, her final words heavy with meaning. She spun and left, going all the way back out to the hallway. "Maaaax... " Ariel breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She unfolded herself carefully, avoiding hitting her head on the ornate edge of the vanity. Whew! That was ridiculously, painfully close.

She proceeded mto the dressing room, where Vanessa kept her ridiculous assortment of clothes: bright-colored gowns with tiny, corseted waists and laced bodices that dove deep to expose vast amounts of decolletage. Wraps and shawls and jackets and hats with jewels