Having turned down an invitation for an afternoon swim with her friends on the grounds that she would surely sink after eating so much food, Cordelia spent the next few hours alone in her chamber. She read through her textbooks, searching for information relating to the symptoms she was experiencing but to no avail.
“You won’t find the answers in there,” said Nixie, appearing at the end of Cordelia’s bed.
“There must be an answer somewhere,” said Cordelia, “there has to be.”
“How can there be?” said Nixie, “This has never happened before.”
“What’s never happened before?”
“You.” Nixie turned to walk through the wall.
“Nixie, wait,” pleaded Cordelia. “Tell me what you know.”
Nixie stopped and turned to face Cordelia. “You’re a prodigy,” she said, “the only one of your kind. Merfolk cannot write about what they do not know.”
“Morwen’s been right all along. I’m not like the rest of you,” said Cordelia, dismayed.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t belong,” said Nixie. “Where’s the point in being the same as everyone else? You were born for greater things and it’s time you started believing it. Now don’t you have a party to get ready for?”
“Who else knows about me? Who knows that I’m not like the rest of you?”
“Nobody,” said Nixie. “Not really.”
“What about Triton and Mazu? They must know.”
Nixie shook her head.
“But they took me in.”
“They took a chance,” said Nixie, “a gamble that you’d inherited your father’s genes.”
“I’m like my mother too, aren’t I?” said Cordelia.
“It’s what’s in here that counts,” said Nixie, raising a hand to her heart. “You’ll work it out, I know you will, but first you must believe in yourself.”
All afternoon Flynn had been proudly telling everyone about his daughter’s birthday and by the time Cordelia arrived at the tavern, the party was already in full swing. A vision of beauty, Cordelia stood out amongst the crowd. Breck couldn’t take his eyes off her; she looked resplendent.
“Here she is! Look at you dressed to the nines,” said Flynn, embracing her. “Happy birthday Cordelia.” He handed her a small box with a ribbon tied around it.
Cordelia smiled with excited anticipation as she untied the bow and slowly opened the box to reveal a necklace with a single pearl.
Cordelia couldn’t believe her eyes. “Where did you find it?” she asked.
“Ah, it may not be the exact same one,” said Flynn.
“Well then how could you - it must have cost a fortune.”
“I have connections,” said Flynn, winking.
Cordelia hugged Flynn. “I love it. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” said Flynn and he fastened the necklace around Cordelia’s neck.
Breck poured Cordelia a drink and as he passed it to her, he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful.”
Cordelia smiled and took the drink from him. “You remember the girls don’t you?” she asked, gesturing for them to come closer.
“Of course,” said Breck, “how are you?”
“Very well, thank you,” said Lana.
“Can I get you some drinks?” asked Flynn.
The girls nodded, smiling and followed Flynn to the bar.
The evening was filled with laughter, dancing and singing and Cordelia had almost completely forgotten her troubles until eleven o’clock when she and Breck had become completely lost in themselves, dancing like no one was watching. Breck held on to Cordelia’s waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His strong arms and the warmth of his body made Cordelia feel safe; she could have stayed locked in that moment forever. They fell into each other’s eyes, drowning in each other’s souls. For a fleeting moment there was nobody else in the room and so they kissed, a long passionate kiss that could have set the world alight. Suddenly they were torn apart.
“What are you doing?!” asked Flynn, his face crimson. “Get your hands off her!” Flynn pushed Breck away like a criminal. “What are you thinking? The pair of you!”
Cordelia had never seen Flynn so angry before.
“I love her,” said Breck.
“Whatever this is,” said Flynn, “I forbid it!”
Everyone in the tavern had stopped dancing and singing to witness the frayed tempers.
Flynn stood still for a moment, his head lowered, his hands shaking. Blue sparks started to flow back and forth between his finger tips. “How could you do this to me?” he asked.
Breck tried to guide Flynn in to the back room, away from prying eyes but Flynn was not so willing.
“Get off me!” shouted Flynn, enraged.
“Stop it! Both of you,” said Cordelia, clearly distressed.
“Cordelia!” called Nerissa. “Your hair!”
Cordelia, already on the verge of tears turned to see her friends staring at her in shock. She followed their gaze to the floor and there she saw her shoes surrounded in a sea of grey hair. Her heart rate quickened and her forehead and palms became clammy. She ran her fingers through her hair and great clumps fell out in her hands. Tears welled in Cordelia’s eyes, her porcelain cheeks flushed scarlet and she ran from the tavern like a deer running from a wolf.
Running through the night, beneath the full moon, Cordelia’s hair continued to shed and all the while she brushed it off her clothes until it stopped falling; until there was no hair left to shed. Standing on the cliff top looking out to sea, sheeting rain began to fall followed by angry thunder. Between thunder claps came the sound of Breck’s voice calling her name. As much as it pained her, she dived off the cliff top and into the sea.
EIGHTEEN
POOka
Cordelia sat on the rocks by the ampitheatre, reeling in anguish. She could never let Breck see her like this. Perhaps she would never see Breck again. She cried so much she thought her tears would run dry. Pressing
