The Covenant of Foam

The sea that day was the most violent I had ever seen. Storm clouds pressed so low they seemed like a massive iron plate covering the world above. When lightning struck, the entire surface would flash into blinding silver-white before plunging back into fathomless black. Waves rolled and crashed, each crest rising ten meters high, the impact shaking my very bones.

I floated three meters below the surface, watching a distant ship struggle in the swells. The hull pitched like a leaf tossed and slammed down again. A deep blue banner tore to shreds on its mast, embroidered with an eagle clutching something in its talons. On deck, people clung desperately to the railings while others were already swept into the churning water.

Then I saw him.

He stood at the bow, completely unlike the others. Fear painted every face around him, yet he simply stood there, face turned into the wind, letting the rain lash his skin. Lightning illuminated his features, and in that instant my heart stopped.

He was young, perhaps twenty-some years old, with brown hair plastered to his forehead by rain. His skin had gone pale with cold, but his eyes were pale gray, like the sea at dawn. They held no fear, only a strange calm, as if he had known all along what would happen.

The ship split apart.

The sound of splintering wood cut through storm, wind, and wave, sharp as an explosion beside my ear. The hull cracked in two, seawater rushing in to devour everything. He fell into the water, body spinning in the current. Bubbles streamed from his mouth like a string of pearls rising through the darkness before bursting.

He was sinking.

My body moved before my mind could. I swam toward him, threading through floating planks and falling cargo, past other bodies drifting downward with eyes wide and mouths agape in silent screams. I caught him from behind, his waterlogged clothes heavy as lead, but my strength was sufficient.

I hooked one arm around his chest and felt his heartbeat. Still beating, fast, faster than normal. Then I began swimming toward shore. The waves tried to tear us apart. I clenched my teeth, my tail thrashing with all its power. His head lolled against my shoulder, his breathing growing weaker.

The sensation was strange. Not pity, but a kind of craving. I wanted him alive. I needed him alive. That thought consumed my entire consciousness, driving me through the churning swells.

The beach finally appeared, gray-white and strewn with pebbles. I laid him in a dry spot and retreated into the sea. He lay motionless on the sand, and my heart clenched tight.

Then he coughed.

Violent, agonized coughing. He rolled over, expelling mouthfuls of seawater. His chest heaved. His hands clawed at the sand, nails digging deep furrows. Relief washed over me, so intense I felt faint. He was alive.

Morning light fell across his face. The rain had stopped, and sunlight made his features luminous. He blinked, then sat up and looked around. At the sea, at the floating wreckage, at the corpses washed ashore.

His expression was strange. Not grief, but contemplation.

Then he stood and brushed sand from his clothes. He smiled. That smile sent ice through my veins—not the joy of survival, but a kind of satisfaction, as though everything had unfolded exactly as he'd expected.

He turned his head, his gaze landing precisely where I hid.

I held my breath. Impossible. The water was too dark, the waves too high. He couldn't see me.

Yet his smile remained, his eyes fixed on my location. One second. Two. Then he turned and walked toward the distant trees. His footprints sank deep into the sand, his stride steady. Not like someone who'd just brushed with death.

I floated in the water, watching his silhouette vanish. That craving surged again, overwhelming everything else. I wanted to follow him. I wanted to draw near.

I shook my head and dove deeper.

For the next three nights, I surfaced again and again.

The first night, I found where he lived. A white palace perched on the far side of the cape, its many windows glowing warm yellow against the darkness. I hid behind distant rocks. The sea wind carried scents from land—earth, grass, and a cloying sweetness like flowers.

When the moon rose, one window lit up. Him. He approached the casement and pushed it open. Night wind stirred his changed clothes, a white shirt with the collar loose. My breathing quickened.

He stood there, gazing toward the distant sea. His expression was focused, as if searching for something. Searching for me The thought made my cheeks burn. Absurd. He didn't even know I existed. Yet I couldn't help imagining it.

He remained at the window a long time, then smiled. The same smile as on the beach—satisfied, pensive. Then he turned, closed the window, and drew the curtains. The light went out. I stayed in the water, staring at that darkened window.

The second night, I swam closer. Close enough to hear sounds from the palace—music, laughter. I surfaced, hiding behind rocks near the shore. From here I could see a grand terrace crowded with people in elegant dress, holding wine glasses, talking and laughing.

I saw him. He stood at the terrace edge, speaking with someone in uniform. When he smiled, the right corner of his mouth lifted slightly higher. That smile seemed to grip my heart—painful, yet sweet.

I wanted to be with him. The thought was terrifyingly clear. Not watching from afar, but truly standing before him. Yet I couldn't. I was a mermaid. He was human. Unless I found the witch.

The third night, that craving had grown so intense I could barely breathe. I had to see him. Had to be with him. If I didn't, I would die.

I made my decision.

The entrance to the deep sea lay to the north, in waters all mermaids feared. There the ocean turned suddenly black, the temperature plummeting. I swam to the edge and paused. Below, nothing was visible except darkness.

But that craving pushed me onward.

I dove. Darkness swallowed me whole. Water pressure mounted, making my ears ring. Strange creatures began to appear around me—luminous jellyfish trailing long tentacles, deformed fish baring enormous teeth. I swam on until I saw the bone forest.

Countless massive skeletons stood upright on the seabed like a grotesque grove. Some were whale bones, others I couldn't identify, and some looked disturbingly human. I wove through them and spotted the cave entrance, concealed by thick seaweed.

I pushed through and entered.

A stench of decay wafted out, sickly sweet and nauseating. The walls were covered with bioluminescent organisms providing faint light. Shelves held strange objects—glass bottles filled with different colored liquids, dried starfish curled into eerie shapes.

What do you want

The voice emerged from the darkness, low and raspy. An old woman crept from the shadows. Her back was hunched almost ninety degrees, her gait more crawl than walk. Her skin was deep brown, creased with wrinkles, dried like kelp left in the sun.

But most terrifying were her eyes. Milky white, pupil-less, like the eyes of a dead fish.

I want to become human, I said, my voice trembling.

She stared at me for a long time. Why

Because I've fallen in love.

As the words left my mouth, my face burned. My heart hammered as if trying to escape my chest.

She smiled. That smile chilled me to the core—her mouth stretched wide, revealing blackened teeth. Some were missing, leaving dark, empty sockets.

Love Her voice dripped with mockery. So young, and you think you understand love

I do, I said, forcing firmness into my voice. I love him. I want to be with him.

She turned, rummaging through her collection of bottles and jars. Do you know the price

What price

She withdrew a small vial filled with glowing blue liquid. Your voice, in exchange for human legs. But every step will feel like treading on knife blades. And if that man doesn't love you, at dawn on the fourth day, you'll dissolve into foam and vanish into the sea.

My heart sank. I'll vanish

Completely. Forever. She fixed me with those clouded eyes, as if peering into my soul. Are you certain

I thought of his face, his smile. I'm certain.

She watched me for a long while. Then she sighed and retrieved a knife from a cabinet. The blade was thin, reflecting cold blue light in the dim cave.

Lie down.

I lay on the stone platform at the cave's center. The rock was frigid, bone-chilling. I stared at the cracks in the ceiling overhead and took a deep breath.

Are you ready

I nodded.

She leaned close, her face near mine. I could see every wrinkle in her skin, like a dried riverbed.

Open your mouth.

I opened my mouth. She placed the blade against the root of my tongue. The metal's touch was ice-cold. My heart pounded as if it might explode.

This will hurt, she said. But don't cry out.

The knife fell.

Pain was instantaneous yet seemed to last forever. I felt the blade slice through my tongue, felt blood surge forth. I wanted to scream, but only a gurgling sound emerged from my throat. The blood wasn't red—it was transparent, mixed with tiny bubbles of foam.

She brought out a glass bottle and held it to my mouth. I heard my voice being drawn from within me. Not just my voice, but all my screams, all my songs, all my unspoken words. Everything was sucked into that bottle, churning inside like something alive.

She stoppered it and placed it on a shelf. Then she took up the vial of blue liquid.

This is jellyfish venom from the deep, she said. It will remake your body.

She poured the venom over my tail.

In that moment, I thought I would die. The instant the venom touched my skin, pain spread like wildfire. I watched my scales fall away one by one, revealing the pink flesh beneath. My bones began to shift, crack, and reshape. Snap. Snap. Each sound echoed clearly in my skull.

My tail was splitting. Tearing down the center as if invisible hands were ripping it in two. I could feel every nerve ending burning, every muscle tearing apart. Tears streamed down my face, but I bit down hard, refusing to lose consciousness.

She scattered white powder over the wounds. They began to heal. New skin emerged, smooth and soft, nothing like scales. I watched my tail disappear entirely, transforming into two human legs. My toes curled, my knees bent as my body adapted to this new, alien structure.

I don't know how long it lasted. An hour Three I only knew that when it finally ended, I was utterly exhausted, trembling all over.

Stand.

I braced myself against the stone platform and slowly sat up. I looked down at my legs—slender, pale, entirely human. I placed my feet on the ground and tried to rise.

The first step brought searing pain.

Like stepping on knife points. I nearly collapsed but clenched my teeth and stayed upright. Second step. Third step. Every step was a blade. But I didn't stop, walking step by agonizing step toward the cave exit. Each footfall left transparent bloodstains mixed with foam that quickly dissolved in the water.

Remember, she called from behind me. Three days. If he doesn't love you, at dawn on the fourth day, you'll become foam.

I glanced back at her and nodded. Then I exited the cave and swam toward shore. When my head broke the surface, morning light poured down. Air rushed into my lungs, carrying strange, sharp scents.

I crawled onto land, legs shaking. Every step was torment, yet I smiled.

Because I would see him soon.

The palace was more magnificent than I'd imagined. White stone walls gleamed in the sunlight. Gardens bloomed with flowers I'd never seen before—red, yellow, purple, each like a meticulously carved work of art. But something felt wrong. Too perfect.

Not a single withered leaf marred the garden, not a single weed. Every flower bloomed at precisely the right stage, as if carefully positioned. The stone pathways held not a speck of dust, so white they hurt the eyes. Even the air carried an odd sweetness—not floral, but spice-laden.

I approached the main gate. A guard saw me and frowned.

Halt. Who are you

I opened my mouth, but no sound emerged. I could only shake my head.

Move along. This isn't a place for you. He reached out to push me away.

Stop.

That voice.

I jerked my head up and saw him descending the steps. He wore a white shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows, his hair neatly combed, sunlight falling across his face.

He saw me and paused. Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps—then it vanished, replaced by gentle concern.

Are you all right

I nodded frantically, tears welling in my eyes. It was him. Truly him. Close enough to see the gray in his eyes, to smell the faint spice on his skin. The same scent that permeated the gardens.

She appears unable to speak, Your Highness, the guard said.

I can see that. He looked at me and smiled. Where have you come from Do you need help

I nodded again.

He turned to the guard. Take her to a guest room in the east wing. Prepare clean clothes for her.

Yes, Your Highness.

He glanced at me once more, that smile still in place. Warm. Attentive. Rest well. If you need anything, tell the attendants.

Then he turned and left.

I stood there, watching his retreating figure. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. He'd smiled at me. He'd truly smiled at me.

They gave me a beautiful room. A soft bed, sheer curtains, and a window overlooking the garden. The attendants brought me dresses and helped arrange my hair. When they spoke, I could only nod or shake my head, and they quickly adapted.

Night fell. I stood by the window, gazing toward the distant sea. The pain in my feet hadn't lessened—every second was still like treading on blades. But I didn't care, so long as I could stay here, so long as I could see him again.

Someone knocked.

I turned. He entered the room.

Feeling better

I nodded and smiled.

He sat in a chair, watching me. What's your name

I opened my mouth and shook my head.

You can't remember

I shook my head again.

Where did you come from Do you have family

I pointed toward the window, toward the sea, then shook my head.

He was silent for a moment, his expression softening. Then stay here for now, until your memory returns.

I nodded eagerly, tears spilling over.

He rose and walked to the door. Glancing back, he said, Goodnight.

The door closed.

I sat on the bed's edge and removed my shoes. Looking at my feet, I saw no visible wounds, yet beneath the skin ran fine cracks like a spider's web. I lay back and closed my eyes. Three days. I had three days left. Three days to make him love me.

I could do it. I had to.

When I woke at dawn, sunlight leaked through gaps in the curtains. I sat up and found a bouquet of white flowers on the bedside table, petals still beaded with dew. A note lay beneath it.

I picked it up. Good morning, it read.

The handwriting was neat, elegant. Was it his I pressed the note to my chest, feeling my heart race. He'd thought of me. He'd remembered.

The attendants came to help me dress. They'd prepared a pale blue gown that fit perfectly. As they arranged my hair, I saw my face in the mirror—pale, gaunt, but with bright eyes.

You're so beautiful, a young attendant said. The prince will surely be pleased.

My face flushed crimson.

She laughed. Don't be shy. Everyone in the palace can tell—the prince treats you differently.

Truly I wondered. Does he really see me differently

After breakfast, I walked through the gardens. The pain in my feet persisted, but I'd grown used to it. Every step was a blade, yet I could endure it. I reached the fountain and watched water spill from a stone sculpture's mouth, glittering silver in the sunlight.

Do you like it here

I spun around. He stood not far away, wearing a pale gold coat and holding a book.

I nodded and smiled.

He approached and sat by the fountain. I used to come here as a child, hiding from my tutors, daydreaming. He gazed at the fountain. Back then I used to think, if only things could stay this way forever.

I sat beside him, studying his profile.

But growing up, I learned, he continued, some things can't be escaped.

He turned to look at me. What about you Is there something you can't escape

I opened my mouth and shook my head.

He smiled. Right, you don't remember who you are.

He stood. I have matters to attend to. See you tonight.

Tonight My pulse quickened.

He left. I remained by the fountain. Sunlight danced on the water's surface. I reached out, my fingers grazing the water, the cold touch reminding me of the sea.

Did I miss home

I thought of life beneath the waves—free, carefree. But none of that mattered now. Only him.

That evening, the palace held a banquet.

A white tablecloth covered the long table, candlelight flickering in crystal goblets. I sat far from the head table, near the door. He occupied the place of honor, with a woman beside him.

She wore a lavender gown, her hair pinned in an elaborate style. When she smiled, her eyes curved like crescent moons. She was beautiful, graceful, like a flower in full bloom.

They were talking. She said something, and he laughed. He poured her wine. She accepted, her fingers brushing the back of his hand.

I watched it all, gripping my silverware tighter and tighter.

That's Princess Elaina, an attendant whispered beside me. From the neighboring kingdom. They say an engagement will be announced soon.

Engagement.

The word echoed in my skull. My heart plummeted, sinking deeper and deeper.

I looked at him. He happened to glance my way just then. Our eyes met. He paused, then smiled at me. The same smile he'd given Elaina—warm, considerate.

I smiled back, but tears pooled in my eyes.

After the banquet, I returned to my room. I sat by the window, staring into the night sky. The pain in my feet intensified. The cracks spread. I could see bone beneath the skin now, white and faintly luminous in the moonlight.

Two days left.

I stood and walked to the table. The flowers he'd sent that morning were already wilting. I touched a petal—soft, fragile. The slightest pressure and it would fall.

Like me.

The next morning, I encountered him again in the garden. This time he was with Elaina, sitting on a bench. Her head rested on his shoulder. His hand rested on her knee. They looked so intimate, so natural.

I hid behind a pillar, not daring to approach.

Is everything ready for tomorrow's wedding Elaina asked, her voice gentle.

Wedding. Tomorrow.

My world collapsed in that instant.

Everything's ready, he said, without the slightest hesitation.

I turned and fled the garden. I ran back to my room, shut the door, and slid down against it. Tears poured out, soundless, just transparent liquid mixed with tiny bubbles, falling to the floor and vanishing almost immediately.

I buried my face in my knees. Tomorrow he would marry someone else. Tomorrow at dawn I would become foam. I had given up my voice for him, given up my home. Every step was agony. Yet he'd never loved me. His gaze had only ever held kindness, pity, the way one might look at an injured animal.

To him, I was nothing. To me, he was everything.

Deep in the night, someone pushed open the door. I wiped away my tears and looked up.

It was the old woman. The witch.

She entered and drew a knife from her robes, setting it on the floor. The hilt was cold, the blade gleaming with cold light in the moonlight.

You have two choices, she said. Kill him. Let his blood fall on your feet, and you'll become a mermaid again. Or wait for dawn and dissolve into foam, vanishing completely.

I stared at the knife, hands trembling.

There's a third option, she said, her voice soft. Become foam, but not vanish.

I raised my head, meeting her gaze.

A century ago, one mermaid chose this path, she said. Her foam was collected by the prince. When he absorbed the essence, she didn't disappear. She became his shadow. Only he could see her. She followed him, day and night, every moment. When he ate, she sat across from him. When he slept, she stood by his bed. When he spoke with others, she stood nearby.

She paused, watching me.

Until he went mad and threw himself from a tower.

My fists clenched.

That's the only revenge I can offer you, she said. Become foam, but use your death to torment him until he, too, dies.

Why are you telling me this I asked. My voice had returned—hoarse but clear.

Because you deserve to know the truth, she said. She walked to the window, gazing toward the distant palace. That prince's family carries a hereditary disease. Every generation ages and dies before thirty. Two hundred years ago, they discovered that the essence of mermaids who dissolve into foam can extend their lives.

She turned to face me.

Since then, every generation of princes has been trained as perfect lovers. They learn how to smile, how to care, how to make mermaids fall in love with them. Then they abandon them, collect the foam, absorb the essence, and prolong their lives.

I trembled violently.

Do you think his warmth was real she said. He's been trained since childhood. Do you think he cared about you He needed you to love him truly, then die in despair. Only then is the foam pure enough.

No, I shook my head. Impossible.

Why impossible She approached and gripped my shoulders. The day you saved him, why was he standing at the bow Why didn't he take shelter below deck Because he was waiting. Waiting for a mermaid to rescue him. Waiting for it all to begin.

She released me.

It's their tradition. Every generation repeats it. Orchestrate a shipwreck. Wait for a mermaid to save them. Then begin the game.

I sank to the floor.

I'm the seventeenth, she said. A hundred years ago, I fell in love with his great-grandfather just like you. I gave up my voice. I endured every blade-like step. I watched him marry someone else.

She crouched to meet my eyes.

But I didn't become foam. On the final night, I stood by his bed with a knife, and I struck. I killed him. His blood fell on my feet, and I became a mermaid again.

And then

Then his brother inherited the throne, she said. Ten years later, another mermaid came. I warned her. She didn't listen. She died. Another came. I warned her. She didn't listen. She died. In a hundred years, I've seen sixteen mermaids. I warned each one. None listened. All died.

She stood.

So now I won't try to dissuade you. I'll only give you the choices. Kill him and return to the sea, but change nothing. Die and vanish completely. Or become foam, transform into his shadow, and torment him until he dies too.

She walked toward the door.

Decide before dawn.

She vanished into darkness.

I sat on the floor, clutching the knife. I stared at my reflection in the blade—a stranger's face, pale and despairing.

What should I do

I stood and left the room. The corridor was silent except for the soft flutter of candle flames. I walked barefoot across the marble floor, leaving transparent bloodstains with every step. I reached his study. The door stood ajar.

I pushed it open and entered.

The study was vast, walls lined with portraits. Generations of princes, each bearing a resemblance, all with pale gray eyes, all smiling. Those smiles were identical—warm, perfect.

I approached the desk and saw a thick, ancient tome lying open. I looked down. It was a family history, written in archaic script. I recognized some characters.

Seventeenth generation, Aelan. Life extension successful. Essence collected thirty-two portions.

Essence. My hands began to shake.

Mermaids who die in despair after true love produce the purest foam. Must be completed each generation, or bloodline curse triggers—aging and death before thirty.

I continued reading.

The cultivation program, passed down through generations. Princes must learn how to attract mermaids, how to make them fall in love, how to abandon them at the appropriate time. Gentleness is a weapon. Kindness is a trap. A smile is bait.

My vision blurred. Tears dropped onto the page, smudging the ink.

You've seen something you shouldn't have.

His voice came from behind me.

I whirled around. He stood in the doorway, that perfect smile still on his face. But his eyes were cold, hollow, like dead fish.

I thought it would take you two more days to figure it out, he said, entering and closing the door. You're smarter than the others.

I backed away until I hit the desk.

Not that it matters, he continued, his tone still gentle. Tomorrow is the fourth day anyway.

He approached. I could smell the spice on him—not perfume, but some kind of ointment. Applied to the skin to preserve youth.

I pointed at the book, my mouth moving soundlessly.

He glanced at it and smiled. Family secret. We have a hereditary disease—every generation ages and dies before thirty. But two centuries ago, my ancestor discovered that essence from mermaids who dissolve into foam can extend life.

He stopped before me and leaned close, looking into my eyes.

But not all foam works. It must come from mermaids who loved truly and died in despair. Only then is the foam pure enough, the effect potent enough. So every prince is trained to be the perfect lover. We learn how to smile, how to care, how to make mermaids fall in love with us.

He reached up and touched my face.

You know what When you saved me, I knew the plan had succeeded. Because you'd already fallen in love—at first sight.

He smiled, and that smile dripped with mockery.

I stood at the bow waiting for you. I created the storm. I orchestrated the shipwreck. I knew a mermaid would come to save me. It's your instinct—kind, foolish, lethal instinct.

I tried to push him away, but he caught my wrist.

And me he said. I didn't choose this either. I'm cursed by my bloodline too. If I don't collect essence, I'll die.

He released me and walked to the window.

Do you think I want this Do you think I enjoy deceiving mermaid after mermaid, watching them fall in love, then die in despair

He turned back, and for the first time, genuine emotion appeared in his eyes. Exhaustion. Disgust. Despair.

But I fear death more, he said quietly. So I'll continue. Tomorrow at dawn, I'll watch you become foam, then collect the essence. This is your fate. And mine.

He walked to the door, hand on the handle.

I'm sorry, he said, and there was a thread of sincerity in his voice. If there's another life, I hope we can both be free.

The door closed.

I collapsed to the floor, trembling. That craving still burned in my chest. Even knowing the truth, even knowing it was a trap, I still loved him. I hated myself, but I loved him. I lay on the floor, weeping soundlessly. Foam spilled from my eyes, dropped to the boards, and quickly vanished.

In the deep of night, the witch returned.

Still ancient, still hunched. Her footsteps barely whispered as she entered.

You discovered the truth, she said.

I sat against the wall, my tears spent.

Why didn't you tell me sooner

I did tell you, she said. I said it was a trap. But you didn't believe me. Because you loved him. Truly loved him.

She sat beside me.

Now you have three choices. Kill him, let his blood touch your feet, and you'll become a mermaid again. But his brother will inherit, and in ten years, another mermaid will come. The tragedy repeats.

I closed my eyes.

Second choice—become the new me. Live a hundred years, warning every mermaid who comes. Watch them refuse to listen. Watch them die.

In a hundred years, have you saved anyone

No, her voice was barely audible. Not a single one.

I laughed, but the sound held only bitterness.

There's a third option, she said. Become foam and let him collect your essence. But your consciousness will remain in the foam. When he absorbs the essence, you'll enter his body.

She looked at me.

You'll see, you'll hear, but you won't be able to move or speak. But you'll manifest. Only he will see you. You'll follow him, day and night, every moment, until he can bear it no longer.

My heart began to race.

A hundred years ago, one mermaid chose this, she said. Three years later, that prince threw himself from a tower.

I looked toward the window. Dawn was approaching.

If I choose this, I said, will I always be conscious

Yes, she said. You'll watch him live. Watch him smile at the next mermaid. Watch him continue it all. You'll suffer. But so will he.

Is this revenge

It's the only revenge I can give you.

I stood and walked to the window. The eastern sky was beginning to pale. My feet were already turning transparent.

I choose the third.

The witch stood, approached, and embraced me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.

You did what you could, I said.

She released me. When you fully become foam, think of him with all your strength. Think of his face, his voice, everything about him. Only then can your consciousness attach to the foam.

I nodded.

She turned toward the door. I'll wait in the cave. If another mermaid comes, I'll tell her about this choice.

She disappeared into the darkness.

I stood by the window, waiting for sunrise.

When the first ray of sunlight struck, the foaming accelerated. Starting from my toes, my skin turned transparent, then dissolved into countless tiny bubbles. They lifted away from my body and floated upward. Beautiful. And agonizing. Not physical pain, but something deeper—as if my soul were being torn apart piece by piece, each fragment burning.

I clenched my teeth and thought of him. His face, his eyes, his smile. Even knowing that smile was false, that warmth was performance, I thought of him still. The witch had said I must think of him to anchor my consciousness to the foam.

The foam reached my knees. I watched my legs vanish, transforming into floating bubbles. Each bubble held a piece of my consciousness. Each one burned.

Footsteps.

He emerged onto the terrace and saw me. Our eyes met. His held complex emotions—guilt, sorrow, and relief.

I'm sorry, he said.

I opened my mouth, silently forming the words You will regret this.

He understood. His face changed.

Then I dissolved completely into foam. Countless bubbles glittered in the morning light like shattered stars. I felt myself fragment, becoming innumerable pieces. Each piece was me. Each was in agony. Each was conscious.

He extended his hand. The bubbles, drawn by some force, drifted toward his palm. He produced a crystal vial and gathered them in. I was inside the bottle, watching his face. Waiting, I thought. I'll watch you forever.

Three days later, in the underground chamber.

He placed the crystal vial on an altar and recited an ancient incantation. The foam began to glow, then liquified, transforming into silver fluid. He lifted the vial, hesitating.

Forgive me, he whispered, then drank.

In that instant, I entered his body. Not a merging, but a parasitic existence. I could see everything he saw, hear everything he heard, feel his heartbeat and breath. But I couldn't move or speak. I could only watch.

He walked to a mirror and touched his face. His skin had smoothed slightly. His eyes looked brighter.

It works, he murmured.

Then he saw me.

I stood in the mirror, behind him. Wearing that white dress, barefoot, silently watching him.

He spun around. Nothing behind him. He looked at the mirror again. I was still there. And I was smiling.

His face went ashen. No. Impossible.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them again. I remained. And I'd moved closer, nearly pressed against his back.

He stumbled out of the chamber.

He thought leaving would free him from me, but he was wrong. I wasn't in the chamber. I was in his blood, in his extended life. Wherever he went, I was there.

He rushed to his bedroom, slammed the door, and leaned against it, gasping. Just a hallucination. Just a hallucination.

He walked to his bed and sat. I sat in the chair across from him. He looked at me. I looked back.

You're not real, he said, voice shaking.

I didn't answer.

He stood and walked toward me, reaching out to grab me. His hand passed through my body.

See he said. You're not real.

I lifted my head and met his eyes. Then I smiled.

That smile made him stagger backward into the bed.

What do you want

I stood and approached him. I pointed at his heart, then made a gesture of stopping.

He understood.

You want me dead

I nodded.

I won't, he said. I'm still young.

I tilted my head, then made a gesture of waiting.

He collapsed onto the bed, hands covering his face. Please. Please let me go.

I knelt before him. I extended my hand, and though it passed through him, I mimed a caress. Stroking his face, his hair, gentle as when I'd loved him.

But my eyes were empty.

In the days that followed, he began to break.

That evening there was a banquet, a royal routine. The long table was laden with roasted meats, red wine glowing dark crimson in crystal. Guests' laughter filled the hall. He sat at the head table, straining to appear normal.

I sat across from him in the empty chair of honor, hands folded on the table, watching him.

He lifted his wine glass, hand trembling. To all of you, he said, voice as steady as he could manage.

The guests raised their glasses. He drank. The wine was strong, burning his throat. He looked at his plate—venison, still steaming. He picked up his silverware.

Then he saw me pick up silverware too. My hands passed through the implements, but I mimicked his movements. I cut a piece of meat, speared it, brought it to my mouth. The meat passed through my transparent lips and fell back to the plate.

But I kept doing it. Again and again. My eyes never left him.

His stomach began to spasm.

Your Highness His brother asked from beside him. You look unwell.

I'm fine, he said, setting down his fork.

He didn't dare look across the table anymore. He turned to the envoy beside him, trying to focus on the conversation. But a reflection appeared in his crystal goblet. He saw me standing behind him now, leaning close, face nearly touching his ear.

He could feel my breath—cold, carrying the stench of seawater.

Your Highness The envoy looked at him, puzzled.

He realized he'd stopped speaking, frozen in place. I was at his ear, lips moving soundlessly. He could read them You're eating me.

Nausea surged violently.

He shot to his feet, chair screeching. Excuse me for a moment.

He hurried toward a side door as whispers rose behind him. He pushed through into the corridor, braced himself against the wall, gasping. Cold sweat soaked his shirt.

Your Highness! His brother rushed after him. What's wrong with you

Nothing, he said. Just feeling slightly ill.

You've been strange lately, his brother said. Staring into space. Pale. Should I summon a physician

No. I just need rest.

His brother hesitated, then returned to the hall. The corridor emptied.

No. Not empty. I stood at the far end, my back to him.

His heartbeat accelerated. What do you want

I slowly turned, that smile still on my face. Then I raised my hand and pointed at my throat. There was a scar there, the mark where the knife had cut. I pointed at him next.

He understood. You want me to lose my voice too

I shook my head. I pointed at my chest, made the shape of a heart, then pointed at his chest and made a stopping motion.

You want my life.

I nodded.

He slid down the wall until he sat on the floor. I'll go mad. Before that happens, I'll go mad.

I approached and knelt before him. I reached out, and though my hand passed through him, I mimed a caress. Tender, as when I'd loved him.

But my eyes were hollow.

Please, he said, tears streaming. Please let me go.

I shook my head. I pointed at myself, then at him, then laced my fingers together in a gesture of eternity.

He closed his eyes. I was wrong. I know I was wrong.

I stood and turned away. But he knew I hadn't truly left. I would never leave.

Weeks later, his brother brought news.

Brother, they found a girl by the shore. She can't speak. Seems she survived a shipwreck.

He was in his study when he heard this. The pen slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

What

A mute girl. Very young. The guards are asking if you want to see her.

No, he said. Send her away.

But she has nowhere to go.

I said send her away!

His brother recoiled, startled by the outburst. All right, all right. I'll see to it.

After his brother left, he slumped in his chair. Another one. Another mermaid. He knew what it meant. The family would expect him to continue, to collect another portion of essence. But he couldn't. He was barely holding on.

That night, he went to see the girl in secret.

She'd been given a guest room and sat by the window, gazing toward the distant sea. Moonlight fell across her face. She looked so young, so innocent. Just like me, a month ago.

He was about to leave when the girl turned and saw him. Her eyes lit up. She rose and walked toward him.

No, he backed away. Don't come closer.

The girl looked confused but reached out anyway, trying to take his hand.

Don't touch me! he shouted.

She froze, frightened. I stood behind him, watching it all. Then I moved to stand before the girl, crouching to meet her eyes.

She couldn't see me, yet she shivered suddenly.

Go, he told the girl. Leave this place. As far away as you can.

The girl shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. She pointed at him, then at her own heart.

He understood. She loved him, just as I had.

No, he said, voice thick with despair. You can't love me. You'll die.

The girl shook her head again. She approached, grabbed his hand, and placed it over her heart. Her lips moved soundlessly I love you.

He shattered.

I don't want to do this anymore! he screamed, jerking his hand away. I don't want to deceive anyone else! I don't want to watch you die!

He fled the room. The girl tried to follow, but I blocked her.

She couldn't see me, yet she stopped abruptly, as if an invisible barrier had appeared. She reached out, hands groping through empty air, and her fingers touched something frigid.

She stumbled backward, face draining of color.

I looked at her and made a gesture Leave.

She turned and ran.

I heard her footsteps fade down the corridor and disappear.

He ran to the tower.

The highest point in the palace, from which the entire city was visible. Night wind blew cold. He stood at the railing, looking down.

I stood beside him.

You win, he said quietly. I surrender.

He looked at me, exhaustion filling his eyes.

I should have died at thirty anyway, he said. But I was greedy, so I did these things.

He turned to face the garden below. White stone gleamed in the moonlight.

Perhaps this is better, he said. When I'm gone, my brother will inherit. Maybe he'll choose differently. Maybe he won't continue this tradition.

He climbed onto the railing, balancing on the edge.

If there's another life, he said, I hope I can be ordinary.

Then he jumped.

I stood atop the tower, watching him fall. His body tumbled through the air, clothes whipping in the wind. Then he struck the ground. Blood spread across the white stone.

Screams erupted from the servants below. Soon the entire palace was in chaos.

I looked at his body and felt no satisfaction. Only emptiness.

Then I felt myself beginning to dissipate. The foam's curse was complete. I could truly vanish now. My form fragmented into tiny motes of light, drifting toward the night sky.

Before I disappeared entirely, I took one last look at that palace. Magnificent, immaculate. Like a beautiful tomb.

Then I, too, was gone.

Many years later.

A young mermaid swam to the entrance of the deep sea cave. Is anyone there

The witch emerged, still ancient, still weary.

What do you want

I want to become human, the mermaid said. I've fallen in love with a prince.

The witch looked at her, eyes full of sorrow. Do you know the price

I know. But I'm willing.

The witch was silent for a long time.

I can give you three choices, she said. First, the standard bargain. Trade your voice for human legs. Three days.

The second

Kill him. Become a mermaid again. But nothing will change.

And the third

The witch met her gaze. Become foam, but transform into his shadow. Torment him until he dies.

The mermaid thought for a moment. The last mermaid who chose the third option—did she succeed

Yes, the witch said. That prince died.

And his brother

The witch went still.

His brother, the mermaid said. Did he inherit

The witch nodded slowly.

And is he still... collecting foam

The witch nodded again.

The mermaid looked deeper into the cave, at all those bottles of captured voices. Dozens. Hundreds. Each one a tragedy.

So killing one prince changes nothing, she said. The next will come.

Yes.

Then I choose a fourth option.

The witch froze. What fourth option

I don't want to become human, the mermaid said. I want to become a witch.

What

Teach me magic, the mermaid said. I want to learn how to truly kill them. Not one prince. The entire bloodline.

The witch stared at her for a long time. Then she smiled, and for the first time, there was a glimmer of light in that smile.

Do you know how long that will take

However long it takes, the mermaid said, if it ends this.

The witch extended her hand.

Then come with me.

They swam deeper into the cave, where an ancient mirror hung. The witch stood before it, and her reflection began to change. The hunched back straightened. Skin smoothed. Eyes regained their color.

In the mirror stood a young mermaid, identical to the one beside her.

This is what I looked like a hundred years ago, the witch said. And what you'll look like in a hundred years.

The mermaid stared at the mirror, at her own future. Old, exhausted, despairing.

Still, she nodded.

I accept.

The witch grasped her hand. Then we begin. First lesson how to craft a curse that is truly lethal. Not to kill them, but to make them beg for death.

They sat in the cave's depths and began the long apprenticeship.

Meanwhile, at the palace, a new prince walked to the shore. Night wind stirred. He gazed at the moonlit sea and smiled.

Any moment now, he murmured.

He was waiting for the next mermaid.

But this time, what came would not be prey.

It would be a hunter.