Mermaid Song: Five Fairy Tale Retellings
By Anthea Sharp
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About this ebook
Five delightful fairytale retellings from USA Today bestselling author Anthea Sharp. Featuring magical cats, romance, and a touch of wistful faerie enchantment, escape the everyday with these entertaining new twists on old tales.
Mistress Bootsi
A girl sets out to seek her fortune - and luckily, she has a clever cat for a companion, in this Puss in Boots retelling.
The Sea King’s Daughter
The Little Mermaid, reimagined in an ancient Celtic setting full of wild and bittersweet magic.
Faerie Song
A magical retelling of the Pied Piper, with a dark faerie twist.
Escape: A Liza Roth Adventure
A princess on the run and her feline companion find adventure and danger on Starhub Station in this story based on the Icelandic fairy tale Kisa the Cat.
Waltzed
A Victorian Cinderella retelling complete with an absent-minded Godmother, an orange carriage, and a slipper mishap. Prepare to be swept away into this (nonmagical) fairytale romance written under the pen name Anthea Lawson.
Anthea Sharp
~ Award-winning author of YA Urban Fantasy ~Growing up, Anthea Sharp spent her summers raiding the library shelves and reading, especially fantasy. She now makes her home in the Pacific Northwest, where she writes, plays the fiddle, and spends time with her small-but-good family. Contact her at [email protected], follow her on twitter, find her on facebook (http://www.facebook.com/AntheaSharp), and visit her website.
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Mermaid Song - Anthea Sharp
Mermaid Song
A Fairytale Collection
Anthea Sharp
Fiddlehead PressMermaid Song copyright 2021 by Anthea Sharp. All rights reserved. Characters are fictional figments of the author’s imagination. Please do not copy, upload, or distribute in any fashion.
Want to make sure you hear about Anthea’s new books? Join her newsletter, and get a *free* short story when you sign up! Find out more at www.antheasharp.com
Cover by Ravven
Professional editing by LHTemple. Copyediting by Editing720.
ISBN: 9781680130478
QUALITY CONTROL: We care about producing error-free books. If you discover a typo or formatting issue, please contact antheasharp@hotmail so that it may be corrected.
Contents
About the Stories
Mistress Bootsi
The Sea King’s Daughter
Faerie Song
Escape
Waltzed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Also by Anthea Sharp
About the Author
About the Stories
Mistress Bootsi
A girl sets out to seek her fortune - and luckily, she has a clever cat for a companion, in this Puss in Boots retelling.
The Sea King’s Daughter
The Little Mermaid, reimagined in an ancient Celtic setting full of wild and bittersweet magic.
Faerie Song
A magical retelling of the Pied Piper, with a dark faerie twist.
Escape: A Liza Roth Adventure
A princess on the run and her feline companion find adventure and danger on Starhub Station in this story based on the Icelandic fairy tale Kisa the Cat.
Waltzed
A Victorian Cinderella retelling complete with an absent-minded Godmother, an orange carriage, and a slipper mishap. Prepare to be swept away into this (nonmagical) fairytale romance written under the pen name Anthea Lawson.
Mistress Bootsi
There are tales that begin Once upon a time, and I suppose that is a fine enough start for my own story, though I am not, perhaps, the usual sort of hero. I am not a knight, or sorceress, or princess in disguise, but merely a cat.
Very well, there is nothing mere about the feline state, I’ll grant you that. And yes, I imagine you might be surprised that I can speak. My great-grandmother was a Cait Sidhe who strayed into the mortal world and decided to remain, and her offspring have been part of the Miller family ever since—though I’m the last of them, it seems. My kittens, so far, are all of the normal, non-speaking variety of cat, with so little faerie blood as to make no difference. My own fault, I suppose, for choosing that strong, stupid Tom… but that is not this tale.
As a youngling, my mother warned our litter to be careful with our talents. Humans are strange, untrusting things, and she made us swear to only reveal our abilities in great need, and only to those whom we could trust beyond a doubt.
Many of my brothers and sisters, in fact, never spoke a word in their lives. But I did, and soon enough you’ll understand why.
When I was scarcely full grown, father and mother Miller decided to leave their lives as flour-grinders and retire to the warm southlands. After selling what they could, they divided their remaining possessions among their children. The oldest inherited the mill, which he was most pleased about, having the inclination to continue the family business. The middle daughter received the horses in the stables, and she was glad to add them as breeding stock to her own fine herd.
And the youngest daughter? Well, Elisetta had ever craved adventure, and I thought it a fine thing to be bequeathed into her care. Elly always knew precisely where to scratch behind my ears and under my chin, and she’d smuggled more than one dish of cream to me, when her parents weren’t looking.
One bright summer morning, the parents bid farewell to their offspring. My own mama groomed me one last time (though I was certainly too old for it) and told me to take good care of myself, cautioning me once more to be careful with my secrets.
I purred and butted her head with my own, and reminded her not to worry. My last sight of her and my older brother was the two of them curled up in the bed of the cart, content in the sunshine, as the Millers drove off.
Elly’s siblings had each offered to house her and give her work, but she declined. Instead, she prepared to take to the road herself, to see what adventures lay in store. I was happy to join her, especially as she’d devised a comfortable sling to carry me in.
In addition to myself, Elly carried a pack with some provisions and changes of clothing, and a pouch worn next to her skin with a few silver and copper coins.
As she was a strapping lass, and I a small cat and not too much of a burden, we made good progress. Soon we’d left the village behind and were striding briskly along toward the capital, where Elly hoped to make her fortune.
I’m a good worker,
she told me, though she didn’t yet realize I could understand her, and reply if I chose. I’m clever with my hands. I’d wager I can save up enough for a house of my own some day, if I find the right profession.
I simply purred up at her and nudged her fingers, hoping she’d pet me under the chin again.
I know I don’t want to grind flour, or tend horses, at any rate,
she said, absently petting me. And maybe I should keep going. Take a ship and see the entire world!
I gave a short, unhappy meow to that. The idea of being surrounded by water was not particularly appealing, even if it meant plenty of fish to eat. I was much more fond of staying dry than I was of a fresh piece of salmon.
Elly laughed. Why, Bootsi, sometimes I almost think you can understand me. What a funny cat you are.
I kept myself from making any reply, but merely settled down more comfortably in the sling, and soon fell asleep.
It took us several days to reach the city. Elly and I bedded down in a number of barns, where I was happy to catch mice (I’ve always been a most excellent hunter). Elly did a bit of work in return for supper, a place to sleep, and breakfast the next morning. The farmwives were generous with their provisions, and we never went hungry at lunch.
One afternoon we crested a hill, and Elly halted.
There it is,
she said, her voice hushed with wonder. The city.
I peeked over the edge of the sling, then blinked to see so many buildings spread out over a green valley. Not all of them were simple one and two stories, either. There were towers and steeples, turrets and minarets jutting into the sky. The sea winked, flat and silver, beyond.
I was not altogether certain coming to the capital was a good idea.
But Elly, with a little skip to her step, started down the hill. I had no plans to abandon her, and so I was carried along with her into the noisy, smelly city.
At first it was not so bad, but the deeper we went into the streets, the more uncomfortable I became. The stink of humans made my whiskers twitch, but the dogs were even worse—leaping and barking until my nerves quivered.
A few other cats slunk about the alleys, hissing when they caught sight of me. I felt very young and untried, and could tell by the slowing of Elly’s steps that she felt the same. The sun was starting to go down, and so much of the sky was covered by tall buildings that darkness fell very quickly.
The crowds we’d been traveling though dissipated as the city dwellers made their way home, and a cold wind blew in off the water.
Surely there’s somewhere we can stay the night,
Elly said, glancing about the nearly empty street. Perhaps I’ll ask that fellow there.
I gave a little meow of warning, but she paid me no heed as she strode toward the rough-looking man leaning against a nearby wall.
Pardon me,
Elly called. Do you know where a weary traveler might spend the night?
The man looked her up and down. Have ye any coin?
A small bit,
Elly admitted, which I thought was rather unwise.
He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward, and I did not at all like the way he regarded my human.
Give it over, then,
he said.
I don’t think so.
Elly backed away, one arm protectively around me.
The fellow lunged, and Elly whirled, darting away between two of the nearby buildings. She pelted down the alley, jolting me up and down, while I thought furiously of a way to save us.
Oh no!
she cried, fetching up against a brick wall enclosing the alley.
I looked up at it. Too high for her to climb, certainly. The man chasing us let out an unpleasant chuckle.
Quickly, she scooped me out of the sling and set me on my feet. Run, Bootsi.
I darted away, but only to the cover of a pile of nearby crates. As the man stepped down the alley toward Elly, I summoned my deepest, harshest voice.
What’s that sound?
I yelled.
Our pursuer hesitated and glanced over his shoulder.
Hand me my club,
I continued. There’s someone outside. I’ll give him a beating.
Then I leaped upon the crates, sending them tumbling down with a clatter.
That was enough to send the man running back down the alley, and I watched him go, lashing my tail.
Who’s there?
Elly said softly, peering into the shadows.
It’s me,
I said. Bootsi.
To her credit, she only hesitated a moment before catching me up into her arms. You can talk?
Yes. And now, we’d best find another place to be, in case that fellow returns.
Shaking her head with wonder, Elly tucked me back into the sling and we crept out of the alley. There was no sign of the man who’d chased us, but Elly used much caution until we’d returned to a busier part of the city.
A night market took up most of an enclosed square. Elly and I wandered through, and I could not help drooling a bit at the delicious scent of meat and fish. To my delight, Elly paused beside a vendor selling skewers of meat and hot potatoes, and handed over a few coppers for our dinner.
Excuse me,
she asked the cook, an older woman with gray hair tucked under a kerchief. Do you know where we might spend the night in safety?
The old woman frowned at her. The city isn’t safe, my dear. Don’t you know that? An ogre has taken up residence in the castle and imprisoned the royal family. You’d best leave while you can.
Elly glanced at the crowds around us. Why is everyone else here, then, if it’s as dangerous as you say?
We’re city dwellers. Where else will we go?
The woman shook her head. Some have taken ship, a few others gone into the country, but the rest of us suffer here, and wait.
Wait for what?
Elly asked.
Why, for someone to come free the king and his family! Someone will, mark my words. In the last fortnight, at least ten heroes have gone into the castle to challenge the ogre.
What happened to them?
Elly’s eyes were wide.
The ogre ate them. He’ll eat you too, if you stand about in the streets much longer.
With that, the old woman began closing up her cart. I glanced around, to see that the rest of the vendors were doing the same.
It’s late,
Elly said. Might you have a place by the fire where I could spend the night? I’ll leave first thing in the morning, I promise.
The old woman wrinkled her nose, but reluctantly agreed that Elly and I could sleep beside her hearth. She led us back to her small house and shared a bit of turnip soup with us for supper, during which time she told Elly how the ogre had come to the city.
He can change himself into all manner of creatures,
the woman said. As a scaly dragon, he charged the castle walls, and they couldn’t stand against him. He commandeered the army, and has got a force of soldiers guarding the castle now. Perhaps he’s not an ogre at all, but a wicked sorcerer.
After supper, Elly curled up in a blanket beside the hearth and was soon fast asleep. I, however, lay awake in the dim, smoky hours, staring at the banked coals in the fireplace and devising a plan.
As soon as Elly stirred in the morning, I climbed on the blanket and butted her chin with my head.
Wake up,
I said quietly. We’re going to the castle today, to slay the ogre.
What?
She blinked at me.
As I told you.
I nudged her fingers until she began to pet me. All we need to do is get inside the walls. Leave the rest to me.
She did not argue, or insist we run away from the city, and I was proud to have a human who displayed such bravery. And one who was willing to listen to me.
Elly insisted on giving the old woman a silver coin for her hospitality as we bid her farewell.
After all,
Elly said as we stepped up the street, either tonight I’ll have saved the castle or I’ll be eaten by the ogre. Either way, one coin won’t make the difference.
I purred loudly to show my approval.
The nearer we got to the castle, the more empty buildings we saw. Those nobles who could, had fled, and everyone else living near the walls had moved further away. No one wanted to be the ogre’s next snack.
Elly walked boldly up to the castle gates, with me peeking out of the sling. The guardsmen watched us with suspicious eyes, hands clenched around their pikes and sword hilts.
Halt!
cried the soldier guarding the small postern door. State your business and show your weapons.
I have no weapons,
Elly said. I’m here to provide amusement for the ogre by showing him my dancing cat.
I extended my claws at that, pricking my human’s skin. But it was too late for her to unsay the words.
Dancing cat?
The guard squinted. Show us.
The nearby soldiers converged as Elly brought me out of the sling. She set me on the cobbles, whispering a quick apology. I glared at her and lashed my tail, but there was nothing else I could do. We must enter the castle and be granted an audience with the ogre if my plan was going to work.
Well?
the guard asked. Seems like just an ordinary cat.
With an inward sigh, I leaped into the air and performed a graceful turn. I landed on all fours, and wove to the left and the right, then spun about once more. As a final move, I crossed my paws and bowed before the guard at the door.
The soldiers clapped.
That is a good trick,
the guard said. We’ll let you in, but you still have to surrender any weapons.
Elly handed over her belt knife, which hardly qualified as a weapon. Certainly it was no threat to the ogre. The blade was scarcely sharp enough to cut slices of fruit.
If I were a hero come to challenge the ogre,
she asked, would I be allowed to bring a sword?
You, a hero?
The guard laughed at her. You’re nearly as funny as your cat, girl.
She set her mouth, but luckily did not argue with the man. Instead she scooped me up and stalked through the postern door without a word. I thought of hissing at the guard as we passed, but thought better of it. He might take offense and change his mind about letting us into the castle, and then my foolish display of dancing would have been for naught.
Once through the wall, a servant in red and black livery escorted us across the courtyard and into the castle’s great hall. The air smelled harsh, with the tang of something I knew was dark magic, though I’d never encountered such a scent before.
The ceiling rose far overhead and the room echoed eerily, as though the empty space was used to being filled by a bright mob of courtiers and visitors. Instead it was uncomfortably quiet.
Elly’s steps faltered