Who would have thought that my previous fanfic, If I Can't Love Her, would inspire another, similar tale?

I know I promised to begin this story back in December, but as I have already said, my father did something strange to the computer and I did not have internet access for about two and a half months. Even now I am using my mother’s laptop, waiting for the day he decides to reinstall SBC on our home computer.

Anyways, No Liddell Wonder is only a chapter short of completion—I apologise to my readers for not giving a heads-up. To be perfectly frank, I myself am surprised at the rapidity with which the conclusion of this story has approached, after…seven months? I think?

And…we’re off!

Chapter One: The Calm Before the Storm

The Amphitrite cut through the smooth turquoise water like a knife through butter, though the waves thrashed at its tarred wooden hull. The sky was overcast, but white not grey, and a brisk wind filled the sails. Sailors scurried back and forth, up and down, over the deck and below, like ants at work. And as they worked they sang.

I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue,
And it's hey to the starboard, heave-ho!
Look out, lad, a mermaid be waiting for you
In mysterious fathoms below.

Fathoms below, below.
From whence wayward westerlies blow,
Where Triton is king and his merpeople sing
In mysterious fathoms below.
Heave-ho, heave-ho

Heave-ho, heave-ho, heave-ho
In mysterious fathoms below!

There were men in the rigging, men rolling barrels and hoisting up caskets and cases from belowdecks, men hauling up fish from the ocean.

Prince Eric, newly turned nineteen, crouched at the bow of the ship, leaned into the wind that caressed his face, and grinned. “Isn’t this great?” he asked, addressing Grimsby, his advisor and guardian since his parents’ death. “The salty air, the wind blowing in you face…a perfect day to be at sea!”

The lanky, white-haired noble straightened up from over the railing, his face the same colour green as the water below. “Oh, yes…” he moaned, gagging. “Delightful…”and resumed donating the contents of his stomach to the sea.

“A fine, strong wind an’ a following sea,” nodded an old sailor. “King Triton must be in a friendly-type mood.”

“King Triton?” repeated Eric curiously.

“Why, ruler o’ the merpeople, lad!” The man smirked at him. “Thought every good sailor knew about ’im.”

Eric resented this cut at his sailing abilities, especially as he loved the ocean so much. Just because he was practically a ruler did not mean he couldn’t sail.

He was about to say all this when Grimsby cut in. “Merpeople!” Grimsby sighed and turned to his charge. “Eric, pay no attention to this nautical nonsense.”

“But it ain’t nonsense!” cried the sailor, waving a red fish in Grimsby’s face. Grimsby instinctively recoiled, and the sailor continued, “It’s the truth! I’m tellin’ you, down in the depths o’ th’ ocean they live!”

The fish, obviously tired of being waved about, wriggled free of the sailor’s grasp, slapping Grimsby in the face with its slimy tail, and leapt into the sea.

Eric laughed.

XXX

The festivities were spectacular. Oh, to be sure, it was only Grimsby, Eric’s German shepherd Max, and the sailors. But Eric had never had any real friends, and anyways, he much preferred this to a royal ball, at which he would continually have had princesses and noblewomen throwing themselves at him. That was a bit odd, really.

Fireworks lit up the dark sky, one after the other, red and green and blue and gold. Music was piped and squeezed and compressed in the form of flutes and accordions. The sailors danced about the deck, and Grimsby stood in a corner watching the merriment and looking superior and stuck-up.

For his part, Eric was playing with Max. The huge, furry dog kept jumping up to lick his face, with such enthusiasm that Eric was often caught off-balance. “Okay, Max! I love you too, you silly dog. Max! Stop licking me! I get it!”

Suddenly Max’s ears pricked up and his nostrils flared. The huge dog was on some scent. Eric had barely time to rub the massive furry head before Max was off and sniffing.

The dog made its way to the railing, and began sniffing the edge of the deck. Fearing that his beloved companion would fall overboard, Eric whistled. “Max! Here, boy!”

Max trotted obediently up to his master.

“Hey, come on, mutt, whatcha doing, huh Max? Good boy! Yes, good boy!” Eric pulled his own set of pipes out of his pocket and began dancing around, playing them. Max loved it. He followed Eric around in circles.

“Silence, silence!” said Grimsby just then. Immediately all music ceased, and the men turned to face Grimsby.

“It is now my honour and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Eric with a very special, very expensive, very large birthday present.” As he spoke, a large group of men staggered with something under brown cloth onto the deck.

“Ah, Grimsby,” laughed Eric, “you old beanpole. You shouldn’t have.”

Grimsby’s expression did not change. “I know. Happy birthday, Eric!” The cloth fell away, revealing a huge…statue. Of Eric. Wearing a royal costume (oh, how he loathed those puffed sleeves!) and bearing a gigantic sword. The figure struck a heroic pose, and was standing on a shield emblazoned with a curly, massive E.

Max growled.

“Gee, Grim…” managed Eric. “It’s, er…it’s…er…It’s really something!”

Grimsby beamed as the sailors resumed their activities. “Yes, I commissioned it myself.” He frowned at his prince. “Of course, I had hoped it would be a wedding present, but…”

Eric groaned inwardly. Not AGAIN! “Come on, Grim, don’t start. Look—you’re not still sore because I didn’t fall for the princess of Glauerhaven, are you?”

“Oh, Eric, it isn’t me alone!” exclaimed Grimsby. “The entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right girl—”

“Well,” grumbled Eric uncomfortably, “she’s out there somewhere. I just—I just haven’t found her yet.”

“Well, perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough,” griped Grimsby.

Eric scoffed at Grimsby. “Believe me, Grim, when I find her I’ll know, without a doubt. It’ll just—BAM—hit me—like lightning.”

As though at his words, a flash of light and a crack sounded in the not-so-far distance. “Hurricane a-coming!” cried a sailor.

“Stand fast!”

“Secure the rigging!”

As a titanic wave hit the Amphitrite, the mermaid figurehead was struck off. The captain was pulled from his place at the ship’s wheel, causing her to reel wildly as the wooden spokes whirled through the air. At the same moment, lightning slashed open a sail, setting the entire ship afire. Eric lunged for the out-of-control steering mechanism, turning it deftly—

But it was too late. He could only cry “Look out!” as they headed towards the rocks.

The hull splintered and began to take on water. Quickly the men who had not already deserted the ship began to load into a lifeboat, Eric in the lead. They were just casting off when Eric heard the frantic bark from aboard ship. “Grim, hang on! Max!” Without thinking Eric plunged into the icy storm-waters and began to cast off towards the sinking vessel.

The freezing waters were a great contrast to the infernal atmosphere Eric faced on the burning ship. The mast came crashing down, nearly missing Eric. He put his hand before his eyes, trying to see through the smoke.

Suddenly he saw Max, stranded on the poop deck and yelping wildly. “Max! Jump, Max!” Thank God I taught him this trick... “Come on, boy, jump! You can do it…Max…”

The huge dog landed squarely in Eric’s arms. But, staggering under his furry friend’s weight, Eric tripped on the railing and dropped the dog, who splashed into the sea. Eric breathed a sigh of relief. He could see Max swimming for the boat, and began to follow suit. But something caught at his ankle. He looked down. A coil of rope was snagged about his foot. Somehow in the heat the fibers had fused together. That is to say, he was tied to the ship.

“Eric!” he heard Grimsby call, faintly. But he could do nothing to answer that call.

The huge barrel across the deck caught his eye: Gunpowder, it read, in curly script. The next thing Eric knew there was a gigantic CRASHBOOM and he was airborne, flying helplessly before he hit the ocean with a loud smack.

As the dark waters and unconsciousness claimed him, he felt a pressure against his arms, and then no more…