Part of Your World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,34

duty, his chore, his right. Something was very, very wrong.

He gulped.

But the people before him waited on his very fingertips. For now they were his kmgdom. They needed their prince. He would deal with personal revelations later.

And so he conducted, and when the soprano sang he winced, and tried not to think of another singer with hair as bright as fire and eyes like the sea.

Vanessa stood in the tub slowly drying herself, starting with her face. She always left the lower half of her body in the water as long as possible.

She sang quietly, luxuriating in the gradual process. The one thing the humans did right—at least the princesses did—was take the proper time and care m making themselves presentable to the world. Her little maid stood attentively nearby.

"Mmm, something-something, and I shall be Queen of the Sea, mm-hmm...keeRACK!"

Suddenly the prmcess heaved violently. It felt like her uvula had been pulled violently out through her lips. Like her mouth had been turned mside out. Like the meat and blood of her lungs were following close by.

She coughed, certain that blood was going to spray out. But there was nothing on the piles and piles of white, sweet-smelling bubbles that filled the tub. No scarlet spittle, no physical proof of the massive change within her.

"My voice" she said, the words commg out m a low-pitched growl. The tenor of a much older, much larger, much ...different woman.

"MY VOICE!" she screeched, pretty red lips squared and askew. She clenched her hands mto fists, shaking with rage.

Her maid looked concerned, obviously unsure what had caused this outburst. She waited nervously for orders.

Vanessa, princess of Tirulia, clawed her way out of the tub and stalked up the steps, white foam trailing off her like smoke. Naked and not cold. Vareet, unnoticed, hurried after her with another towel. The prmcess dug desperately through the pile of clothes she had taken off so carelessly before and threw them every which way m her panic.

"Where is my necklace?!"

But of course it was gone.

She spun to focus her wrath on the tiny maid, who tried to hide behind the giant towel she still held at the read}-. Not that her mistress hadn't lost her temper before, of course; she had many times, when no one else was present. But this time seemed particularly bad. Vanessa's teeth bit into her bottom lip; she didn't even notice the tiny droplets of dark blood that welled up. Her cheeks sucked m under high cheekbones until her face looked like a skull. Her eyes were wild and the whites seemed almost yellow, and sickly.

"WHERE IS MY NECKLACE? " the princess demanded again, tappmg her chest to mdicate it where it used to hang.

Vareet shook her head, terrified.

"BAH!"

Vanessa drew her hand back. For a moment it seemed like she really would strike the girl. But the sea witch wasn't dumb; the maid had been within her sight at all times. She had nothing to do with the missmg nautilus shell or its obvious destruction.

It could have been a simple sneak thief, of course. It could have been some sort of accident. But it wasn't. It was...

"The hussy " Ursula growled, rolling the words out.

She paused her rant, savoring the sounds. Her stolen voice had been fun to play with, worked wonders on others, and caused pain for the one from whom it was ripped. That was more than enough. But...she rather enjoyed hearing her real voice agam. It was a voice with depth, with command. With character and substance. It was so her. Not at all like that bubbling, perfect-pitched, whiny little merthing.

"The hussy is back," she repeated.

Vareet took one timid step backward, obviously torn between terror at this strange change in her mistress—and fear of her mistress herself.

"She was in here, somehow, and stole my necklace, and destroyed it."

Vanessa looked around, at the door to her changing room that led to her bedroom. ..but there was no evidence of anything out of place.

"This is a problem," she said, fingering her throat. "A disturbing development I need to deal with immediately—and permanently. "GUARDS!"

She sang.

Wordless hymns of the sea: immediate, extemporized passages about waves and sunlight and tides and the constant, beautiful pressure of water on everything. The glory of seaweed slowly swaying, the delicious feeling that foretold a storm in the Dry World and turbulence below.

The music came out of her without pause, driven by years of observing, seeing, listening, enjoying, experiencing the world and unable to express it. The wonder and