like me.”
“Look what I got,” Layla says, holding up a small silver tray of
what look like pink Jell-O squares. She and Thalia toss them into
their mouths like they’re catching grapes. I let Layla feed one to me
just to be polite. My lips catch the tip of her finger, which tastes a
bit salty. Her smile is happy, lazy. I think she might even be drunk.
The pink square is slightly sweet with the texture of gummy bears.
“What is it?”
“The guy who handed it to me said it was jellyfish brains,” Layla
says, collapsing into a fit of laughter with Thalia.
“I thought we were friends. Jerks ,” I add under my breath.
“That’s why I couldn’t resist,” she says. She and Thalia tiptoe
dance along the hot ground, then finally sit at the edge of the pool
with their feet dangling over the water. Thalia shifts into her tail
so that it peeks out from her puffy tulle skirts, and her tail fins
lick the water. She’s the green of new grass. Layla asks her something
and Thalia nods. Slowly, Layla traces her finger along Thalia’s scales
where her thigh would be. I can smell Layla’s wonder, her own blend of
blooming flowers.
“Pretty hot action over there.” I forgot Marty was sitting beside
me.
“Huh?”
“Don’t act like you’re not seeing what I’m seeing.”
“Dude, what are you?”
“Oh, you remember that.” He leans back on his elbows, his baseball
cap shielding his face from the sun. “Tell you what. If we see each
other again on land, I’ll tell you.” He puts out his fist and I bump
his with mine. “There’s a lot you don’t know, dude. This is just the
beginning.”
“You ever been to one of these before?”
“Nah. But I’m neutral, and the alliance means keeping all the
courts happy. It’s a fairly new thing with a treaty signed in magical
blood, fairy tears, unicorn horns-you know, that kind of stuff. Didn’t
really work for Versailles, but it’s a wait-and-see.”
I nod, like I know what he’s talking about.
“I’ve seen things. Nothing like this before, though. Pretty cool,
huh? It’s like waking up one day and taking the blindfold off.” He
stands and dusts sand off his jeans, even though I’m sure he’s got
sand in places he won’t be able to dust off for days. Trust me. “Now
if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go let the mermaids seduce me.”
It goes on for what seems like hours. The sun stays at a high
point, like perpetual noon. Layla and Marty are welcome, and I guess I
am too. The kids sure think I’m something special. The ones who can
walk come up and poke me, and then run away. Girls walk up to me and
bow their pretty little heads. It’s like the mermaid version of the
Lifeguard Catwalk. They walk past with their glittering scales beneath
flowing skirts that look more like sheer scarves wrapped around their
bodies.
My grandfather sits beside me. “I’m glad you are enjoying your
people.” He’s been standing around just watching for hours, and I
almost forgot he was there.
“What happens next?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“No, I’m just-wondering.”
“How is your father?”
“He’s good.”
“And my daughter?”
“She’s, you know, good?”
He chuckles. “How very… good. ”
“Grandf-Sea King?”
He nods but doesn’t correct me as to what I should call him. He
waits for me to talk.
“I have about a million questions to ask you.”
He smiles like my mom, all cheeks, even with his beard. “How about
we start with one.”
That’s totally unfair. How about we start with how the hell is
this island moving on its own? Or how come I can’t turn into a whole
fish like Thalia and Kurt, not that I actually want to? Or what
happens if no one likes me? That grizzly Elias guy looked like he
wanted to kick my ass, and I’ve never even seen him before. It’s like
starting high school all over again.
Finally I settle on, “Why didn’t you come sooner?”
The blue of his eyes get dark like dusk. “Believe me, I wanted
to.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I love my mom and dad, and my dad’s sisters
are okay. But it would’ve been nice to know that I at least had a
grandfather. I don’t know.” I shake my head. I’m being stupid and
sentimental in front of the king. I’m never like this. I take a deep
breath to loosen the tightness in my chest.
He sets a firm hand on my shoulder. “Let me show you something.”
“What?”
“Something you should’ve known much, much sooner.”
He leads me through a passage behind his throne. I let my fingers
trace the walls. The rock is ancient and smooth, shaped by water and
glistening with dew. Tiny lights float in the crevices of the
stalactites, which hang like icicles.
The air is cooler here. I can even smell the sea.
We take a right, the lights ahead of us like tiny beacons, and I
realize they’re leading us. We’re in a cavernous room. There’s a
natural pool of crystal-clear water that looks cold to the touch. When
I get up close to it, I can see something behind my reflection, a dark
shape taking form. Suddenly the surface breaks, and I hold up my arms
to shield my face. I push myself backward.
“Easy, boy,” my grandfather says. I wish he wouldn’t talk to me
like a pet, but when I open my eyes, I realize he isn’t talking to me
at all.
“What is that?”
The king sits at the edge of the pool and holds out his massive
hand to a creature I’ve never seen before. With bright yellow eyes and
a long horned snout, it’s completely familiar. A sea horse. But when
it grunts, its arms come out like webbed paws and lead to a body that
ends in a curling tail. It nuzzles into my grandfather’s hand like a
puppy and a horse all at once.
“This is Atticus,” he tells me. “He gets lost in the lower tunnels
and ends up here instead of Thalia’s chambers.
I still can’t pull myself off the floor. “When Thalia said she
missed her sea horse, Atticus, I was picturing something-smaller,” I
say, careful of my words, because something in its yellow eyes tells
me he can understand me. I have some food I’ve been stowing away in my
pockets instead of eating, and I feed it to him.
“He is the last of his kind,” Grandfather says. “Just like us.”
“What do you mean?”
He walks across the room to the pool, where there’s a tall golden
chair with spikes that end in jeweled points. It doesn’t look very
comfortable, but he seems to like it. I notice the trident for the
first time, softly glowing in its stand beside him. Not like the dinky
little toy I’d pictured. It’s practically as tall as he is. The fork
crackles with lightning on its own. I want to touch it. I wish it were
mine.
I take a step back and the feeling dulls a bit.
“It’s calling to you,” says the king.
“It’s strange. Like I know it’s mine.” Then I look at his serious
face and add, “Only it’s yours.”
He takes the trident with one hand. Even from here, I can feel it
humming. The lighting sparks start at the forks and lead down its body
of twisted gold that ends in a jagged and long pointed white crystal.
“What do you want with me?” There. I said it. It’s only taken me
all day. “Why me? Why not one of your sons?”
He sighs. I hate when people sigh, like they’re deflating and
giving something up. “Because I don’t have sons.”
“Oh.”
“I have scores of daughters. I had a few boys, but I’ve outlived
them all. My daughters have sons, but your mother is my favorite.”