I shove both notes at her. Helena takes them from me, and her eyes flash with fury before she shuts the door in my face. No one has ever slammed a door in my face before. Her audacity is so overwhelming it feels like my brain is short-circuiting.
It creaks open a moment later, and she hands me another note. Her hands are icy.
If you’re going to be an ass, the least you can do is give me a book.
“I don’t have to do anything for you,” I snap and shove the note back to her. “My only job is to take you to your destination.”
She grabs the paper with her frosty fingers and scribbles while holding the paper against the doorframe.
Please.
My first reaction is to say no and leave her to her icy hell, but something about the look in her eyes makes me stop. I grab the door and study her. Her gaze meets mine, and she stares right back, unflinching. Inexplicably, her hand ends up resting on the door just under mine. I stare at those gray fingers, their difference from my skin even more marked than before.
The air thickens, and for a moment, I think she will touch me. Before I can react, she grabs the paper from me and presses her fingers against the word. Only the ghost of an icy breeze meets my hand.
Please.
Oh, dammit.
“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’ll bring one to you within an hour, as long as you promise not to pass notes to my crew. They’re not here to serve you.”
She pinches her lips together and frowns. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she nods tersely.
“It’s a deal. Goodbye, Princess.”
Closing the door, I head back to my office. It will be another long night, and I need a drink.
Be Someone Worth Respecting
HELENA
I’m sitting patiently on my bed and hating my windowless room. Getting to the Gates of Hell is not a quick journey. This is the first time I’ve ever left the safety of the ocean, and I am missing every bit of the trip. I can’t see what the water looks like, nor the stretches of land veiled by gorgeous, gossamer clouds. I can only imagine what it must look like as I stare at the wall.
I’ve seen contraband videos of the land world. I know a little about its culture. Dancing, running, walking. They all seemed so unnatural, once upon a time. Now I am here with two legs, and I can still not do most of the things I had seen.
The captain had told me he would give me a book before he left. Now I’m sitting here, silently cursing that I didn’t press further.
I didn’t even tell him what kind of book to bring me. He’s probably going to send me a maintenance manual.
He would do it, too, just to spite me.
Clenching my fists, I fall back onto the small bed and draw in a long breath. The magic from the ocean is still wearing off. It feels like I am melting in this gods-awful place. My heart longs for an ice bath.
And my tail.
I used to count things when confined to the small room in my sister’s house. Tiles, sparkles, shells, seconds, whatever I could. When that grew tiresome, I’d sing to myself. Hallie had hated that.
I look around. The flat walls of this room don’t have anything for me to count, and I don’t like the thought of training these legs. It feels too committed to this form, even if it is necessary.
Luckily, I had a pen and paper, so there’s that. As a bonus, I can leave and go to the bathroom down the hall. Thank the gods, there is running water on this ship. I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to have this body and not have access to modern plumbing. I can lock my door from the inside as well. But the captain has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want me here.
But maybe if I am careful and avoid Erik, I can make this work. Ideas and images rapidly pop into my head, making my blood course through my veins due to all the excitement.
Every idea is more ridiculous than the last, making me grin from ear to ear. The insufferable captain is going to regret agreeing to take me on fast. Maybe he’ll even give me a boat when I decide to escape. It has been years since I have had any kind of fun at all. Elva and I used to get into so much trouble. I miss her desperately.
I’ve felt like half a person in the years I have been forbidden to contact my best friend. And… she’s married now. Even if she could contact me, there’s no guarantee she would message or call. I’ve heard that married-lady things usually take up a lot of time. I should remember her as she used to be. Whole memories are better than partial shells of friends.
But… this crew, this captain, is a challenge. He is presenting me with something that I cando. I will get under his skin, and it will be the most fun I’ve had in averylong time. The irritated, exasperated look in Erik’s eyes is simply too delightful. It is like playing with fire. He reminds me of Elva—both are too serious for their good.