Part of Your World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,54

Flounder saw his friend shrink into himself and frowned.

"Princess Attina, perhaps what is needed is an actual member of royalty ruling the kingdom in their absence," he suggested coldly. Sebastian gawked at Flounder. It was so...not...Flounder. Well, old Flounder, anyway. The mermaid glared at him.

"Nice try. Flipper," she said with a sniff. "But you know that bemg queen was part of Ariel's punishment for losmg our father. She can't escape it by turning mto a human and running away to the Dry World forever." And for the second time that evening, a tailfin was flipped and someone swam angrily off. Sebastian and Flounder exchanged weary looks.

"This is all...very hard," Sebastian said, without his usual loquaciousness.

"I know," Flounder said with a sigh. "But the moon is waning and we're approaching the neap tide—when the ocean is pulled farthest back from the shores." "Flounder, I know what a neap tide is."

"My point is that the trident's power will also be at its lowest, so she has to come back soon! With or without her father. Or she'll suddenly turn mto a mermaid, flopping around on the land." "That would be a sight," Sebastian said thoughtfully. "A very, very bad sight." And for once, the fish didn't disagree with the crab.

The first part, at least, was easy. There was no issue trailing along with the other servant girls and boys as they finished up their errands and returned to the castle; many were already gossipmg and flirting, done with work whether or not they were officially done. A couple of young men were definitely lookmg at her. She tried not to smile.

But then. ..several girls were looking at her, and whispering to each other. And they didn't look appreciative or jealous.

Ariel began to feel uneasy.

She had filled her apron with pretty shells, thinking her excuse could be that Vanessa wanted them to decorate her bath. She had thought that she fit right in with the other serv ants carrying piles of wood, bms of garbage, baskets of eggs... But maybe not?

There were four guards flanking the servants' entrance this time. Had they been there previously? She couldn't remember. They definitely looked more alert than when she had snuck in earlier—these scanned each and every person who passed, sometimes directly in the eye. Ariel hesitated.

One of the guards spotted her and frowned.

As casually as she could, Ariel turned around and walked back agamst the flow, peeling off to the strip of beach right in front of the castle in case she had to make a quick getaway mto the waves.

What she saw there stopped her dead in her tracks.

At first glance, it seemed silly—no, insane. Royal guards were using long poles to draw thmgs in the sand, over and over again, like children pumshed by a teacher for spelling somethmg wrong.

Why would Ursula do this to them? Had she gone completely off the deep end? Was it some sort of weird disciplinary thing? But then Ariel stood on her tiptoes and saw what they were drawing: runes. Atlantica runes.

Upside-down from her perspective, because they were facmg the sea.

THE MOMENT YOU ARE SPOTTED ON THESE GROUNDS YOUR FATHER DIES

Ariel backed away slowly as the letters burned themselves into her eyes.

Then she turned and ran—

—and slammed chest-first into Carlotta, who grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the shadow of a pme.

"I saw you try to get in just now... What are you doing here?'' she hissed. "We're on high alert because of what you've done. I assume it was you who took the necklace? Vanessa is in a murderous snit! Surprised she hasn't locked up poor little Vareet... She's rampaging around, doubling the guards, offering rewards for information... and doing strange witchcraft. Those symbols of hers..."

Ariel shook her head. "That is a message for me. She is threatening to kill my father if I come looking for him... which I have."

The maid blinked at her.

"Oh, yes, I can talk now," the mermaid added.

"Does this have something to do with the..." Carlotta said, indicatmg her neck. The nautilus. Or possibly a voice.

Ariel nodded and held up her wrist so the maid could see the leather band, the broken bit of shell attached to the golden bail. "I smashed it, breaking the spell, and now I have my voice back again—and she has none. Or her own, rather."

"That would explain the whispering and the muffler and the talk of colds," Carlotta said, a little desperately, as if that one bit of logic were her lifeline.