Part of Your World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,94

from the far north.

She sang, and the wind sang with her. It whipped her hair out of its braids and pulled tresses mto tentacles that billowed around her head. She sang of the unfairness of Eric's fate and her own, of her father's torture as a polyp, even of Scuttle's mortal life, slowly but visibly slipping away.

Mostly she sang about Ursula.

She sang about everyone whose lives had been touched and destroyed by evil like coral being killed and bleached, like dead spots in the ocean from algae blooms, like scale rot. She sang about what she would do to anyone who threatened those she loved and protected.

And then, with her fmal note, she made a quick thrust as if to throw the trident toward the boats in the bay, pulling it back at the last moment.

A clap louder than thunder echoed across the ocean. A wave even larger than the one she rode roared up from the depths of the open sea. It smashed through and around her, leaving her hair and body white with foam. She grinned fiercely at the power of the moment. The tsunami continued on, making straight for Tirulia.

But... despite her rage... underneath it all the queen was still Ariel. Her momentary urge to destroy everything came and went like a single flash of summer lightning.

She pulled the trident back.

As the wave traveled through the bay it grew weaker.

Not so weak, however, that it didn't smash Vanessa's anchored fleet with a satisfying, wood-cracking explosion against the wharves.

The other boats, the fishing vessels that were out m open water, were tossed like toys or bits of flotsam and jetsam.

The ocean rose and flooded the docks, taking the dead fish back to their home, allowing the few living ones left to escape.

Eventually the water calmed. The wave Ariel rode slowly diminished, and she returned to the relatively tranquil surface of the sea. Dark clouds lingered but lightened their load by letting out a soft rain. The storm was over. Ariel dove into the depths, exhausted. Hopefully Eric would have the sense to realize their meetmg would be delayed for at least a tide. She would send some dolphins up to rescue the drowning.

She stood in the hall, one hand on Vareet's head, a distant look on her face. Someone passing by might have taken the scene for that of a distracted member of royalty lecturing the lesser staff with a patromzing if affectionate air. But she was thinking about her three destroyed warships. She had been close...so close., .to absolute victory over Atlantica.

And now the explosive cannonballs from Druvest lay somewhere on the bottom of the bay, undetonated, useless.

In a month, if she was lucky, she would have three new ships—and three was not enough. She wanted to make sure she had enough cannons and firepower to defeat whatever the mer tried to throw at her, and enough munitions to obliterate everything down there. Not to mention her failing alliance with Ibria. Once agam she would be short three ships....

As for the cannonballs and explosives themselves—well, it was hard enough wheedling them out of Druvest, and getting Eric to pay for another batch seemed unlikely.

Ariel had ruined her whole plan.

Vareet squirmed under her touch as Vanessa's nails dug deep into the roots of her hair and twisted them in anger. But the little maid had sense not to cry out. Or try to escape.

Ursula wished it was Ariel's hair she had her tentacles sunk mto. Pulling and tearing those stupid red locks, ripping them from her flesh...Oh, how she would love to drag the mermaid through the water as she struggled and screamed, forced to watch as everyone she loved died....

Unable to hold back any longer, Vareet let out a smgle whimper.

Ursula looked at her maid with vague surprise, as if she had forgotten the little girl was even there. Vareet paled, plainly expectmg punishment.

But somethmg else was occurrmg to the sea witch. A calm detachment settled over her like a warm current from a sea vent. Her rage dissipated as her next, her only action became clear. If Ariel would wield the power of the gods in this battle, then so would she. All she needed now was a time and place.

Eric strode by, stuffing his hat on his head and buttoning his cloak. "Going off onyour...post-prandial constitutional?" she asked hollowly.

"Oh, yes, yes, walking does wonders for the stomach," Eric said, patting his and trying to keep moving.

"Tell me...Are you still planning the big performance? The free