Poor Unfortunate Soul (Villains 3)

Alongside her chair was a little round table with a rose-patterned teacup set on it. Steam curled up and out of the cup like wispy tentacles. If it hadn’t been for the unfortunate events for both the sisters and their dear friend, this would have been just like one of their countless delightful visits during which they’d usually gossip about the goings-on in the various kingdoms or share stories of their wicke

d deeds. There was nothing quite like sharing stories with other witches, especially with a witch like Ursula.

She was a true witch with a royal background and with great power—but most important, she had a sense of humor. There was nothing she didn’t find humorous, even in herself. She was the cheekiest witch they knew, and that was probably why their little sister, Circe, liked her so well.

Oh, Circe.

Their dearest little sister. Would they ever see her again? Was she lost to them forever? “What if something terrible happened to her?” cried Ruby.

“You must stop this obsessive fretting over Circe at once, Ruby, please!” “Yes, calm yourself. Ursula is going to share her story now.”

Ursula’s voice was calm and flat. There was no hint of her customary histrionic flair. Her voice did not boom. It was almost small, and she seemed more serious than the sisters had ever seen her.

“My father found me floating on the waves, clutching to a piece of splintered wood, which he presumed was the tattered remains of a terrible shipwreck. He scooped me out of the sea and brought me back to his village and that is where I lived.

“With my father.

“He called me his little sea poppet and raised me as his daughter—and that is what I was: his daughter. I waved him good-bye every morning when he went out on his fishing boat, and prayed the sea gods would bring him back to me safely—which they always did. He was the only person in the world who truly loved me. He thanked the sea gods daily for bringing me into his lonely life, and I thanked them for bringing him into mine. Neither of us could know of the thing growing inside me, the power I had, or the form I would eventually take. If only I had trusted in his love and confided in him when I started to fear the thing I was becoming.”

The sisters were listening intently. Waiting. Waiting for the rage and fury. But Ursula had fallen silent, lost, it seemed, in her own thoughts. Memories, no doubt, of her father. They had never seen Ursula so pensive.

Martha broke the silence. “Did he betray you? Men always do, don’t they? Fathers never love their daughters as they should!”

Ursula shot Martha an icy stare but didn’t answer.

“Was he revolted by your aquatic form? Frightened of your power?” “Oh, I bet he tried to kill you! Fathers are always a disappointment!” “Oh, we can help with hateful fathers!” “We can call upon the old queen if you don’t believe us!” “If only Snow White didn’t have the mirror!” “Oh, we know a thing or two about wicked fathers!”

Through unexpected tears Ursula simply said, “No,” and the sisters knew they had gotten it wrong—terribly wrong—and they regretted their words.

They fell silent, waiting for their friend to answer, even though they already knew it wasn’t her father at all; it was the people of the village.

“It was them, wasn’t it?” Ruby muttered bitterly. “It was those wretched villagers!” Pflanze narrowed her eyes and adjusted her paws. She had very little affection for most humans. They had always proven to be distrustful and full of superstitious notions.

“When I started to show signs of being other than human, I was frightened. I had no idea what was happening to me. I was afraid I had offended the sea gods in some way and they had set an affliction upon me.”

“But you are a sea goddess of the highest rank!” the sisters chimed.

“I had no way of knowing that then. I was just a girl. Every day the sea’s call grew more powerful and the urge to leave my father’s shores harder to resist. The village was full of simpleminded fools, all of them too willing to blame every little mishap on the gods. All of them pointing fingers at those who may have brought the gods’ fury upon them. All except my father, who had managed to keep to himself until I came into his life.”

Pflanze thought her witches might cry, seeing the salty tears well up in Ursula’s eyes and realizing what must have become of her father. What a terrible way to learn she wasn’t of this world.

Inevitable, but terrible.

“I walked to the cliffs every morning after my father went out on his boat. There I looked to the sea for answers, wondering why I felt this way, why I felt different from those around me, and why I felt compelled to dive off the cliffs. I thought I must have been going mad, and I feared there was something terribly wrong with me, because surely I would die if I were to jump into the sea. That I should want to end my life in such a horrible way caused me great terror, but somehow deep within me I sensed death wouldn’t be waiting for me in those cold, dark waters.

“It was something else, something familiar yet far too frightening to discover. I knew in my heart if I succumbed, the ocean would claim me in some other way, and to me that was like a sort of death, to be away from my father, who loved me so dearly. Every day I stood there, willing myself not to jump, praying to the sea gods to give me strength to stay ashore, but one foggy morning I could no longer resist the urge and I jumped. And what I discovered was frightening beyond all imagination.”

“Is that when they discovered you?” asked Lucinda, her eye makeup smeared from crying.

“Yes, they were waiting for me on the shore. They dragged me to the center of town, where they were going to burn me. These were people I had known my whole life and they were coming out of their homes and piling anything that would burn onto my pyre.”

“How did you escape?” Ruby asked.

“My father drove most of them off with his harpoon, threatening to kill them if they didn’t let me go, but soon there were too many…”

She was quiet again, clearly caught in the nightmare from her past.

“They ripped him to shreds, my father, trying to get at me. Trying to put me back on the pyre. He put himself between us, giving me the chance to escape, and I did, into Triton’s realm.”