The Little Merman Demands Legs from the Sea Witch - Chapter 7
Drooling? When had she ever done that? Iko frowned at Kashmir’s assumption.
What would she do with a voice that couldn’t even be used as a potion ingredient?
No, she had a much grander plan.
To use this rare opportunity to obtain something far more valuable, something she would otherwise never get her hands on.
“I want tears.”
The tears of the merfolk that were said to be a key ingredient in a legendary potion, capable of reviving someone who had just died.
If Iko could obtain them, she could create the mythical elixir that even Dalibaya had never been able to make. The thought of the great achievement she could attain made her heart race as she eagerly awaited Kashmir’s response.
“That’s not possible. Ask for something else.”
Kashmir rejected her request immediately. Iko’s disappointment was as great as her initial excitement. Her eyes widened, and she asked why not.
“I can’t cry. I’m not lying. If you want my tears that badly, try making me cry.”
If he had been Bolo, a single mention of Dalibaya’s death would have had him weeping. But Kashmir wasn’t Bolo, and Iko was at a loss as to how she could possibly make him cry.
She realized she had been too greedy. Even Dalibaya had spent her life longing for mermaid tears without success. It wasn’t something one could get so easily.
“Ask for something else.”
“Then… scales…”
Despite her reflection on greed, Iko couldn’t help herself. Scales of the merfolk were another rare and precious ingredient, known to be capable of creating a potion that could revive someone on the brink of death.
Dalibaya had strained her neck every day, scanning the seabed for discarded scales, only managing to find three over thirty years. But Kashmir had so many scales, right in front of her.
“You have plenty of scales, don’t you?”
Iko pointed to Kashmir’s tail with her eyes, barely able to hide her anticipation as she waited for his response.
“Fine.”
Kashmir agreed so easily that Iko’s eyes widened in surprise. Most merfolk would have refused outright, but he, being a naïve fool, had accepted without hesitation. Iko couldn’t help thinking that this guy’s foolishness was a stroke of luck.
Kashmir reached for his tail and plucked off a single scale, gripping it tightly and pulling it out with one swift motion. It stung, but the pain was tolerable. He could feel the empty spot where the scale had been, but it wasn’t noticeable to the eye, and it would grow back in time.
“This is the scale you wanted, right?”
Kashmir, still unsure if this was what she truly wanted, held out the scale. Iko’s eyes gleamed as she swallowed hard, clearly desiring it.
In truth, Kashmir had prepared something else to offer the witch if she asked for his voice—a more valuable item.
His father’s beard.
But seeing that she was satisfied with a mere scale, he found it all too easy and couldn’t help but feel astonished.
Who had spread those rumors that witches were greedy and cruel swindlers? Kashmir inwardly laughed at the absurdity of those claims.
In the end, both Iko and Kashmir were convinced that they had gotten the better deal.
The only person who had suffered was neither of them, but a third party—namely, the mer-king, who had his precious beard snipped off while he slept, completely unaware of the transaction.
“Yes, this is enough.”
Iko reached out to take the scale.
But before she could take it, Kashmir closed his fist around it, preventing her from taking it.
“Not so fast.”
Though he was bored by how easy this was, Kashmir reminded himself not to let his guard down. The deal with the witch wasn’t finished yet. She didn’t seem ruthless or greedy, but who knew? She could still be a trickster.
***
“Witch! Why is it taking so long?”
An hour had passed since Iko went inside, and Kashmir, lying on the small beach by the boat, shouted out in frustration.
“What, are you brewing the potion from scratch?”
Iko glanced out the window.
Of course I’m brewing it from scratch!
What, did he think a witch keeps potions to turn a merperson’s tails into legs just lying around? She wanted to tell him to shut the hell up, but since he was about to give her a precious scale, she decided to tolerate a bit of rudeness.
“I’m working on it!” she called out, her tone unintentionally becoming a bit more polite in her excitement over the scale.
“I’m running out of patience. Hurry up.”
If he wanted her to hurry, maybe he should keep quiet and let her concentrate. Though she cursed him silently, Iko responded softly, assuring him that she was on it. As she stirred the potion, its color turned a deep pink. The book said that the lighter the pink, the longer the effect would last.
“This seems a bit too dark.”
She doubted how long the potion would last. But what did it matter?
The prince hadn’t specified how long the effect needed to last. As long as she gave him legs, she’d have fulfilled her end of the deal as a witch.
