She kept her hand cupped over the skin to assure herself that she was not dreaming as she tried to wiggle her toes. Nothing happened.
“Breathe,” she muttered. “Just breathe.”
She looked back at the water, desperate to see Thornwood’s silver head. Something rippled on the surface, and a face appeared.
The mermaid statue smiled at her, its teeth needle-sharp.
“Are you my replacement, then?” it asked, and its voice was as rough as boulders rubbing against one another.
“No, I’m not,” Mouse said, hating how her voice cracked in return.
The mermaid croaked like a toad, drifting closer. “You must be. The transformation has already started.”
Mouse looked at her feet again. The gray reached her knees. “I’m not,” she said firmly. “Where is the man who was with me before?”
Slowly, the mermaid scrunched her nose. “That is not a man. That is a Faerie.”
“Where is he?” Mouse repeated.
“Not very clever, your friend, is he? And arrogant, too. You are a much better candidate.”
“Candidate for what?”
“My replacement. Perhaps you are not clever either.”
“What does being your replacement entail, exactly?” Mouse asked, attempting to keep the creature talking while she desperately looked for a way out.
“You will turn into a statue and protect the well from trespassers, as I have done.”
Mouse felt her heart in her throat. “You were human once and someone trapped you down here?”
“I do not remember. I was alive once, but I do not think I was human.” It paused, and the ripples around it smoothed. Below, Mouse could see a sliver of silver and white. Thornwood floated just below the mermaid, unmoving. Had he turned to stone as well?
Mouse flexed her feet, and again they did not budge.
“Why serve the one who did this to you? Once we break the magic, perhaps you will be free again. We could help you that way.”
“No.” It shook its head, its neck grinding under the movement. “The only guarantee of the end is to find a replacement.”
The mermaid drifted closer. Mouse could see that the same scaled stone that crept up her legs made up its skin and hair.
“You do not want me as your replacement,” Mouse said, scanning the walls for inspiration while she spoke. Nothing stood out to her. “I have a complete disregard for authority and would be likely to let in trespassers.”
Mouse rocked in place in a last-ditch effort to free her feet. She felt a crack form at her heel, lifting it slightly from the stair.
The mermaid smiled, its teeth bright against the dull gray of its skin. “That will be your problem.”
“I will ruin all your hard work. On purpose!”
“No matter, I will be gone.”
The mermaid was nearly upon her. It took all of Mouse’s strength, but her feet twitched once, then twice, then three times, and they were free from the stairs. She tried to direct herself backward and away from the mermaid, but as the bonds cracked, she lost control and rocked forward, toppling into the water.
“No!” Mouse gasped, bringing in a lungful of air before she hit the surface.
Her legs were heavy, and they pulled her down.
She flung out her arms, using them to propel off the wall. Then, with frantic strokes, she reemerged, coughing and gasping. The mermaid statue had vanished.