The Sea King's Daughter

By Miranda Simon

What would you sacrifice for love? Nyx, the sea king's youngest daughter, detests her underwater palace; she yearns for the sunlit world above the waves. After the young mermaid rescues a human from drowning, she is determined to be with him at any cost. But life on land is not at all as she dreamed, and the price of happiness may be higher than she ever imagined. Love and heartbreak intertwine in this breathtakingly romantic retelling of "The Little Mermaid" -- a classic story that comes to life in "The Sea King's Daughter".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Miranda Simon
• Release date: Jun 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310768729

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The Sea King’s Daughter

By Miranda Simon

CAPUCHIN BOOKS

Copyright © 2012 Miranda Simon

Other novels by Miranda Simon:

Wolf Moon Rising

Where Fairies Dwell

Becoming Sarah

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are purely coincidental. All characters and events in this work are figments of the author’s imagination.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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Other books by Miranda Simon

CHAPTER ONE

On that fateful day I swam up toward the sun, up through icy currents and warm pockets, dark shadows and mote-filled shafts of light. A school of fork-tailed pomfrets scattered as I passed. The sea clutched at me as if it did not want to let me go.

I gave one last kick of my tail and -- at long last -- broke free.

The Inland Sea spread out before me, the water a deep and brilliant blue. It shone in the late afternoon sun like a sheet of burnished copper. A sliver of land smudged the eastern horizon. I studied that smudge with awe and curiosity.

I had never in my life seen land before.

For all of my fourteen years, I'd lived in my father's dim and dreary palace on the sea floor, just waiting for this moment. Everyone said I was too young to surface, too young by two long years. They said breathing air might kill me, but I was willing to risk it.

I closed my eyes and sucked in my first-ever mouthful of air.

At first, it didn't hurt. My gills pumped once, twice, and then three times as they expelled my last underwater breath. Silken ribbons of water slid down my neck, trickled over my breasts, and dripped back into the sea.

The air exploded in my lungs. I retched, dragged in another breath, then cried out against the piercing ache in my chest. Wave after wave of pain tore through my body. It was like the time I'd dived too deep, down into the barren darkness of an undersea caldera, when the pressure bore down on me until I feared my ribs would crack. This was much worse. This pain felt larger and hotter than the burning orange orb hanging in the sky above my head.

I hadn't expected surfacing to hurt so much. I flailed my arms and thrashed my tail. I longed to fill my lungs up with cool water. I could make the pain stop. I could dive down again into the murky depths of the sea and never surface again until my sixteenth birthday.

But I was too stubborn to quit. Instead, I swallowed another mouthful of air and willed my body to accept it. Then, despite the pain, I took a fourth breath, and a fifth. My gills flapped listlessly against my neck, faltered, and lay still.

My throat and chest still ached. But gradually, very gradually, my heart slowed to its normal speed. Each breath grew easier. The choking, desperate feeling vanished.

I splayed my webbed fingers wide to tread water.

I was breathing air.

I'd wanted to surface ever since I could remember. I was sick to death of twilight blue, of dusky water and wave prisms playing lazily against volcanic rock. I dreamed instead of the upper world. When I was 11 years old, I begged to go along with Thetis, the eldest of my five sisters, on her sixteenth birthday. She sat before the mirror that day and arranged a wreath of pearls in her hair.

Please, I said. Please, Thetis. I'll do anything.

She shook her head. You can't go along, Nyx. Your lungs aren't ready yet. Besides, you're just a child. Why are you in such a dreadful rush to grow up?

Even then I was already restless, contrary, and dissatisfied with everything. I scowled and swam fidgety circles around my favorite sister. I can't wait five more years. I just can't possibly. I want to know what it's like up there.

Thetis' long curls floated about her face like a cloud of squid ink. Try to find a little patience, Nyx, she said. She cupped my chin and turned my head this way and that, studying my sour expression. You've got a certain darkness in you, little sister. It makes me frightened for you.

That day I struggled in my grandmother's arms. I wanted to follow Thetis as she floated demurely toward the upper world. Grandmother gripped my shoulders until bruises bloomed on my milk-white skin, bruises colored yellow like the water that hangs in the holds of sunken ships.

And so I waited.

I waited three long years, counting the days, striving to be good and always falling short of my family's expectations. A thousand times, I'd swum toward the sun and floated just under the waves, trying to see the upper world without breaking any rules. Finally I thought I'd explode if I waited any longer. What could two years matter? I felt old enough. I knew I was ready.

An hour ago I'd swum out from the palace alone. I'd surfaced, and I'd survived. My too-young lungs hadn't failed me. I hadn't choked on the air or drowned myself in the wind. All the threats and warnings had come to nothing.

Now that I could breathe, I took a second look around. I'd never seen anything so fresh and new and joyful as the scene before me. Tilting my chin up, I saw strange gray-and-white animals swimming in the air. They wheeled about like black bream circling a coral reef. Birds, Thetis had called them. Seagulls. Their harsh cries filled the air. After the silence of the sea, even their unmusical melodies fell on welcoming ears. Usually I heard nothing but low tones and the sound of distant whale song.

I began to swim east toward the wedge of dark land. The sun was a hot weight on my shoulders. Even when I closed my eyes, I could still see, through my lids, the redness of the sunlight.

Down below there was hardly any light at all. Only at noon, when the sun's rays pierced the water just so, did a soft glow fall over the palace grounds. The rest of the time we lived in constant twilight. It was just one of the many things I hated about the sea.

Sometimes I hated everything about my life. I was always full of disgust and rage and other ugly, selfish feelings. I longed to be good and kind like my sister Thetis, but I could never manage it. Sometimes my restlessness frightened me, my anger that came from nowhere and was too big, too terrible, to keep inside. It burst out sometimes in unexpected places, making me say cruel things to my sisters, my teachers, even to the servants.

Sometimes -- like today -- I just had to run away.

I heard a muted splash behind me. A dorsal fin sliced the water. Flukes slapped the surface. A dolphin whistled in my ear. She grinned at me. Her black eyes twinkled with mischief, as if she understood and approved of my disobedience. I stroked her slick blue-black skin.

Ios, I said. Where are your friends?

She dived down, coming so close that she brushed my stomach with her back. When she surfaced again a few yards away, two companions flanked her. The three dolphins spun and leapt in the salty breath of the sea. I watched their intricate ballet, swimming with them, feeling the warm water slide over my back.

Hair fell over my eyes. I ducked my head and snapped it sharply back just to hear it smack my spine. The sound disturbed a seagull bobbing and floating on the sea. The gull launched himself into the air with a squawking, shrewish scream of outrage.

Ios circled back to me. Her mouth opened in silent laughter. I laughed too. We frolicked until the water shone gold with the sunset.

I ached to explore, to learn, to discover more about this world I'd only heard about in tales. I wanted to see sailing ships up close, as more than slow-moving shadows blocking out the light. I longed to see the things I'd only heard about in tales: trees and mountains, goats and dogs, temples and houses, and most of all humans, those strange creatures who crawled about the land with legs in place of tails.

All my life, I'd listened to the stories about humans and their world. My father, my tutors, and my older sisters painted the upper realm as a frightful place, a place of horrors. Thetis had gone up just that once and never returned. It wasn't safe, they said. Humans were uncivilized, disagreeable, filthy creatures. Our tails were a thousand times better than those fleshy pink appendages called legs. The sea is the source of everything good, my father was fond of saying.

Still, I'd fallen in love with the whole idea of the human world. I liked to spin fantasies about it. In my father's palace, I felt like a misfit and a failure. In my imagination, humans lived in a place of perfect happiness and beauty -- a paradise marred by none of the sea's imperfections.

Now I would get a chance to see it for myself.

CHAPTER TWO

Violet and dusky rose streaked the sky. The wind kicked up white-tipped swells. It pushed at me like an airborne current, cold and strong. I sighed and rubbed the hard little bumps on my arms. I could hardly bear to go home.

Still, my explorations would have to wait for another day. On this night I had to sneak back to the palace and hope my grandmother hadn't yet noticed my absence. Even on the most exciting day of my life, I was not eager to earn Grandmother's wrath.

In one smooth movement, I flipped over and dived.

My tail smacked the surface and then I was gliding down into the sea's blue depths. Water flowed back into my welcoming lungs. My gills revived and flapped merrily against my neck.

For the first ten fathoms, sunny light laced the water. A shoal of sardines floated by, flashing their silver bellies. Deeper still came a milky layer pulsating with algae, spores, eggs, and living filaments, followed by a cold current that chilled me to the marrow of my bones. My dread grew with every passing minute. I felt like an escaped prisoner returning to captivity.

The sea bottom shone with an eerie reflected glow. Floating fleshy threads in violet, gray, and yellowish green blanketed each rock. Mullet sucked at the weeds with thick white lips. As I glided over the sandy bottom, I stirred clouds of dust and algae into miniature whirlpools of gloom.

Far off in the distance, a shark prowled with his escort of pilot fish. I left him alone, and he ignored me, too. I wasn't prey. Only a starving shark would pursue me -- and then I was fairly certain I could outswim it.

Only one thing really frightened me when I went out alone. On the way back to the palace, I had to pass by the cave where, according to rumor, the sea sorceress dwelled. I didn't fear octopi or electric eels or any other hazards of the deep, but the dreaded sea sorceress was still the stuff of nightmares.

"You do know