Just for Fins (19 page)

Chapter 22

T
he open-air cruise up the coast and back refreshes me almost as much as a saltwater bath. Maybe it's the salty sea air, or maybe it's spending an hour with my arms tight around Quince's waist. Either way, I feel ready to take on the mer world.

When we pull into the driveway between our houses, I see the lights are on in my kitchen. It's pretty late and Aunt Rachel knew I would be out with Quince, so I wonder why she's up.

“I'll walk you in,” Quince says, stomping down the kickstand on his bike.

We walk inside and find that Aunt Rachel isn't the one up waiting for me.

“Daddy?” I ask, surprised to see him sitting at the kitchen table. I can almost count on one hand the number of times he's been in this house since I came to live here. Most of them in the past few weeks. “And Calliope? What are you two doing here?”

“Let me guess,” Quince says, shutting the door behind us. “Time for test number three?”

Calliope gives me a sympathetic look.

“Not exactly,” Daddy says.

“What?” I say. When neither of them explains, I repeat with a slightly higher tone, “What?”

“You couldn't have known,” Calliope says.

Daddy shakes his head. “It was a tiny mistake.”

“What do you mean?” I look nervously from one to the other.

“In the first test,” Calliope explains, her expression sad, disappointed maybe, “you gave Quince directions to Thalassinia?”

“Yeah,” I say. “So?”

“So,” she says, her eyes softening, “that was technically against the rules of the trial.”

“Against the rules?” I echo, my voice barely a whisper.

“It didn't help me,” Quince says, stepping to my side. “I already knew how to get there.”

“That,” Daddy says with a frown, “is beside the matter.”

“What does this mean?” I ask.

“Do I have to repeat the first test?” Quince asks. “Because I'll do it if I have to.”

“I'm afraid that isn't an option,” Daddy says.

He drops his gaze to the table, and my heart plummets. If Daddy can't even look me in the eye, then this must be bad. Really bad.

“Technically, that counts as a forfeit,” Calliope says. “You have failed the trial.”

“No way,” Quince roars.

I shout, “That's not fair.”

Daddy keeps his face passive. “I know it isn't. But it is the rule.”

My heart is pounding in my chest like it wants to explode. I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I step close against Quince's side, needing to feel him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer.

“So . . . what?” Quince asks. “Now I'm stuck forever on land and Lily has to return to the sea? That's stupid.”

Daddy and Calliope exchange an uncertain look.

“The situation is not quite so dire,” she says, unrolling a kelpaper scroll on the table. “Because you failed on a technicality, rather than an outright inability to complete the test, there are contingency consequences.”

I don't like the way she says that. Contingency consequences don't sound like we get to go for cookies and sushi instead.

“What's that?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

“The choice will be Quince's,” she says, turning away from me and focusing on him. “There is a way for Lily to maintain her freedom, to be able to divide her time between land and sea.”

My stomach drops.

“Okay,” Quince says. “What's that?”

Calliope takes a deep breath before saying, “You have to give her up.”

“What?” I cry. “No!”

“What does that mean?” Quince asks, his voice far more level than it should be. His arm tightens around my shoulder.

“You can't seriously consider this,” I say, but everyone in the room is ignoring me.

“If you agree to never see her again,” Calliope says, “right now, tonight, then she will be able to live in both worlds.”

“And if I don't?”

“Then she returns to the water,” Calliope says. “Forever.”

“Done,” Quince says.

“No,” I shout. “This is ridiculous. You can't just say ‘done' and end what's between us.”

I pull out of his grasp and smack him on the shoulder. My tears overflow and spill down my cheeks when I see the pained look on Quince's face. This can't be happening, not after everything we've been through. Not after everything we've already overcome.

“Tell me there's another option, Lily,” he says to me. “If I don't, you're back in the sea and I'm on land and we're over anyway.”

“I . . .” Shaking my head, I can't believe this is happening. “No. I don't accept this.” I look at Daddy. “There has to be another way.”

He looks at Calliope, who is studying the kelpaper scroll again. “Well, there is one other option. . . .”

“What is it?” I blurt. “We'll take it.”

“You don't even know what it is,” Quince says, trying to sound all reasonable.

I glare at him. “If it means we'll get to be together, then I don't care what it is.”

“You'll have to give up land, Lily,” Daddy says. “If you agree to never step foot above the surface again, then Quince will be free to come and go in the sea. You can still be together.”

“Yes, okay,” I say without hesitation. “I choose that.”

Quince grabs me by the elbow. “Can we talk about this for a second? Outside?”

Without waiting for my response, he leads me out the kitchen door. And I let him. As far as I'm concerned, though, there's nothing to discuss.

He steps down to ground level and turns around, forcing me to stay on the step above him.

“What is there to talk about?” I ask. “This is a no-brainer.”

“I—”

“No,” I say when he starts to argue. “You listen to me. I'm the reason we're in this situation in the first place. I'm the one who severed our bond, even though my feelings for you were growing. I'm the one who bonded to Tellin when I knew I loved you.”

“Lily—”

“I know you like to be all tough and manly and you think you're the only one who should make sacrifices for us.” I swipe at the tears on my cheeks. “But I'm a big mergirl. I know what I want, and I want to be with you.”

Quince presses his hand over my mouth. “If you would let me get a word in, princess,” he says, grinning like a little boy, “I love you. And I know this is a sacrifice for you because you love living on land almost as much as you love being in the water. But if this is your choice, I respect it and I'm honored by it.”

“I . . . ,” I say, breaking into a grin of my own. “Oh.”

Leaning down, I press my lips against Quince's and feel the connection, the heat of his mouth on mine. I sigh. There isn't much I wouldn't sacrifice to be able to do this whenever I want.

“See,” he says, tilting his chin away so our foreheads are still touching, “if you stop to listen every once in a while, you might hear good things.”

I am just about to throw back some witty reply when I hear clapping. Twisting around, I see Daddy and Calliope standing in the still-open door.

“Hey,” I say. “We're trying to have a private moment here.”

“So we heard,” Calliope says. The smile on her face is bigger than I've ever seen, bigger even than when she first realized that Quince loved me.

“We could not delay our congratulations,” Daddy says. “We have already put you through enough.”

“Congratulations?” I repeat. “What are you talking about?”

“We're talking about the third test,” Calliope says.

“I thought there was no third test.”

Calliope shrugs innocently. “This
was
the third test.”

“This?” I shake my head, trying to get the silt to settle in my mind. When it does, my jaw drops. Oh no, I cannot believe they pulled this on us. And I
cannot
believe I fell for it. “Are you kidding me?”

“I told you the third test would be emotional,” she says with a sappy grin. “What I didn't tell you was that it would test both of you.”

“You both had to make a difficult emotional decision,” Daddy says. “You both had to be willing to sacrifice.” He beams. “And you were.”

My mind roars at the thought of what they just put us through. The emotional turmoil of thinking that I would lose Quince forever, that he would give me up so I could keep my freedom, and then that I would give up my freedom so I could keep him, was pure torture. Without stopping to think, I punch Daddy in the arm.

“That wasn't nice,” I chide.

“I know,” he says, rubbing at his shoulder. “But it was the requirement of the test.”

Fine. I know Daddy wouldn't have put me and Quince through this if he didn't have to. And at the moment I guess I'm just so relieved that the trial is over that I'm willing to forgive the game.

“Just promise me one thing,” I say, stepping up so I'm closer to eye level with him. “No more tests.”

“No,” he says with a laugh. “No more tests.”

“Or challenges,” I say, wanting to clarify as much as possible. “Or ancient laws or long-forgotten rules or consequences or anything at all that will affect my relationship with Quince.”

Daddy's humor fades, and his expression is all seriousness as he says, “No, none of the above.”

“Well,” Calliope interrupts, “there is the
duplex amoris
.”

Daddy and I both turn to glare at her.

She blushes. “But that only comes into effect if you fall in love with twins from the Southern Hemisphere.”

I glare harder.

“Look at the time,” she says. “Seems like my work here is done. I'll sign off on the challenge as soon as I get back to the palace.” She twists past me and Quince and grabs her bike from where it's leaning against the house. She climbs onto the seat and calls out, “Good-bye,” as she pedals down the driveway. “Love the blue hair.”

“I swear,” I say when she disappears around the corner, “that woman is out to make my life difficult.”

From behind, Quince slips his arms around my waist. He pulls me back down a step, and I lean into his body.

“She means well,” Daddy says. “I really am sorry that you had to go through that. If there had been any way around the law—”

“I know, I know,” I say. I place my hands on Quince's arms. “As long as we're together at the end of the day, that's all that matters.”

Daddy nods. “Well, I'll leave you two, then.”

“I'll see you tomorrow night,” I say. “At the council meeting.”

“Tomorrow night.”

When Daddy is gone and Quince and I are alone, he laughs. “I don't think I'll ever understand your mer-world ways,” he says.

I turn in the circle of his arms. “Luckily, you'll have a whole lifetime to figure it out.”

“Heaven help me.” He rolls his eyes comically.

“Ha ha.” I plant a quick kiss on his mouth. “Now get going. I need a good night's sleep, and I think I'm going to need like a three-hour bath to soak away all the stress in my bloodstream right now.”

“You know where I'll be if you need me.”

I smile. “Always.”

Chapter 23

T
he doorbell rings a few minutes before the meeting is scheduled to begin, and my heart starts racing. I smooth my hands over the knee-length gray skirt Aunt Rachel bought me when I started interviewing for jobs after my sixteenth birthday. That plan quickly fell apart because employers—even fast-food restaurants and souvenir shops—like to have a Social Security number for their potential employees.

But I kept the skirt for special occasions.

Today definitely qualifies as a special occasion.

I cross the living room, my black ballet flats scuffing across the floor. I feel like I'm about to be executed.

If things go wrong, maybe I will be.

I wish I didn't have to face them alone. Aunt Rachel's living room will be a tight squeeze with just me, Tellin, and the ten rulers. Which is part of the reason I asked them to leave their advisers and attendants in the surf. We don't have the space to accommodate their entourages.

As much as I want Doe or Peri or even the not-so-terrible trio at my side, I'd be all kinds of hypocritical if I didn't play by my own rules.

At the door I take one more second to tug at the hem of my short-sleeve cotton blouse. The pale blue isn't exactly Thalassinian royal colors, but it will have to do. I'm trying to project a mature and responsible image, and this is the closest thing I've got in my closet.

Taking one last deep breath for confidence—or extra oxygen to keep me from passing out—I paste a welcoming smile on my face and grab the handle.

“King Tiburo. Queen Sula.” I spread my arms wide and gesture into the house. “Welcome to my home.”

The rulers of Rosmarus and Nephropida, two of the most northern kingdoms in our region except for Glacialis, sport twin sour looks on their faces. I was expecting this kind of reaction. It's not every day—meaning never—that a council of kings and queens is called to a land-based location.

Daddy assured me it was possible, but he also warned me that the other kings and queens would be unhappy. Many of them haven't stepped out of the water in years. Some never have.

But this is all part of my plan. There are two main advantages to meeting on land, and one of them is that I will have what Quince calls the home court advantage. The kings and queens are coming onto my turf—even Daddy.

“Please,” I say, leading Tiburo and Sula to the living room and pointing at the trays of grape juice and sushi set out around the room. “Help yourself to some refreshments.”

They stand awkwardly, not taking me up on my offer. Their loss. Mushu makes the best sushi in Seaview.

The doorbell rings again, and I grab a spider roll on my way back.

I greet Queen Otaria of Marbella Nova, whose arrival is followed by Queen Cypraea of Antillenes, Queen Palmara of Costa Solara, and King Zostero. He gives me the darkest look of all.

Daddy arrives next with King Gadus, with Tellin at his side.

I'm relieved that so far everyone seems to have agreed to my request to come alone.

The other reason I want this meeting to be limited to only the ten kings and queens and me and Tellin is because I want as few witnesses to what I'm about to do as possible. Gossip—especially royal gossip—travels fast underwater.

If things go well, no one outside this room will ever know what I've done.

King Bostrych arrives, his rotund body looking out of place on spindly legs. He heads straight for the sashimi spread on the side table at the far end of the couch.

That leaves just one attendee missing. I'm so not surprised.

I weave through the crowd to Daddy's side.

“She's late,” I whisper.

“She'll be here,” he says. “She has no choice.”

I give him a meaningful look. “We didn't exactly part on great terms.”

“Let me rephrase,” he says. “If she wants to keep other kingdoms on her side, she knows she must be present.”

As if on cue, the front door flies open and Dumontia steps inside. Her long silver hair floats around her like she's walking into a fan. Two guards flank her, following her inside.

“Queen Dumontia,” I say, forcing my biggest smile yet. “Thank you for coming.”

Her smile is equally fake. “How could I refuse?”

She didn't refuse, but she did ignore my request that she come alone.

“Perhaps you missed the part of the invitation where I asked everyone to leave their attendants and advisers behind.” I nod my head at her two guards. “Please send your escorts back to the beach.”

“A silly request,” she says.

When she starts to move into the room, I step into her path.

“It may be a silly request,” I say, repeating the words Doe told me to use, “but it is a condition of the meeting. If you'd rather abdicate your vote . . .”

Dumontia scowls, angry that I've used council protocol against her, I'm sure. But she doesn't argue. Instead, she snaps her fingers, and the two guards retreat back the way they came.

“Let's get this ridiculous meeting over with,” she says, sweeping past me. “I have important matters of state to attend.”

“I don't see any reason to delay.” I move to the center of the living room, in front of the TV, which is the only flat surface not covered with drinks and eats. “If everyone would please take a seat.”

Between the couch and recliner and the chairs Doe, Aunt Rachel, and I dragged in from the kitchen and down from upstairs, there are enough seats for everyone. The kings and queens grumble a bit, but they all find places to sit, and suddenly all of their attention is on me.

I clasp my hands behind my back, squeezing tight to steady myself.

“Last time I called a council,” I begin, “I was asking for pledges of aid for an ailing kingdom. Instead of receiving the support I expected from my fellow merfolk, I learned that Acropora is not the only kingdom suffering in the wake of ocean warming and other environmental changes.”

There are several murmurs of agreement, but no one interrupts.

“I was shocked and intimidated by the sheer size of the situation, but with the help of some friends, I realized that if I broke the problem up into smaller pieces, and if our kingdoms worked together rather than fending for ourselves, we could avert catastrophe with a swell of momentum that is greater than the sum of our parts.”

I take a breath. This is the point where I stopped when I told Daddy my plan. As far as he knows, I'm just trying to raise support for the interkingdom commission on environmental change.

That will come after this next part, assuming this next part goes right.

“Then I learned something unfathomable. Some of our kin had decided that taking revenge on humans through acts of sabotage would be the best way to protect our future.”

I keep my gaze steady on Tellin so I don't accidentally single out any rulers. I don't want to put anyone on the defensive.

“Maybe it is,” King Zostero argues anyway.

I give him a look. “I won't go into
why
I think this is not the answer right now—although I think that reason should be obvious—because I know something else that most of you don't. Queen Dumontia, the leader of this sabotage movement, has ulterior motives.”

Some of the kings and queens shrug. Others, Daddy and Gadus included, turn to look at Dumontia.

“Her goal is not to get humans
out
of our oceans,” I explain, “but to bring them
in
. She wants to taunt humans into investigating the source of the sabotage. Into ultimately discovering our existence.”

Several gasps echo in the room.

“She wants to reveal our secret to the world,” I finish, “by circumventing our oversight procedures.”

“Why, Dumontia?” Daddy asks, his face wrinkled in confusion.

A couple of other rulers quietly echo Daddy's question.

Dumontia stands, taking center stage. “Why?” she repeats. “Because it is the only way. To reveal ourselves to humans is the only way to make them see the harm they do to the oceans. Learning that magical creatures such as ourselves live in the seas might finally make them understand that they cannot carelessly pollute and destroy our environment.”

“That's madness,” Daddy says. “You cannot know that will be the result.”

“We cannot know it won't, either,” Zostero argues.

“Ridiculous notion,” Gadus grumbles.

Tellin pats him on the shoulder.

“Maybe she's right,” Queen Sula says. “Maybe this is our best chance.”

“Our best chance?” Queen Otaria argues. “Perhaps our best chance of becoming human science experiments.”

“That would be a better fate than slowly going extinct as the oceans die around us.”

“We're not going extinct.”

“We will if things don't change.”

The room erupts into arguments. Some of the rulers see Dumontia's plan for the craziness it is, while others think it's a plan worth considering. As the debate grows louder and less controlled, I turn around and flip on the TV. I drag my fingertip over the touchpad on the laptop Brody set up this morning, and I pull up the video we shot yesterday.

I click play, turn the volume to full, and then step out of the way.

My heart is racing, and I cross my fingers behind my back.

No one notices at first. They are yelling at each other, and their voices drown out my video.

Then Tellin, who is the only person in the room who knows what's going on, shakes his father's shoulder and points to the TV. The two queens Gadus had been arguing with follow his gaze, and all three fall silent as they watch me, Peri, and the not-so-terrible trio dive into the pool.

Gradually, the other kings and queens notice. By the time the video ends, all eyes in the room are glued to the small screen.

The video loops back to the beginning and starts again. Brody did a masterful job with the editing, making the whole thing look like a series of news broadcasts. The rulers watch in silence as I make my confession, transfigure mid-dive, and climb back out onto the deck.

When the clip reaches the end and loops back to the start again, I click pause.

“Is this what we want?” I ask, pointing at the frozen image of Brody sitting at a news desk with a headline on the green screen behind him that reads
MERMAIDS ARE REAL
! “Videos of mermaids and mermen showing on every channel in every country around the world? Because you know the news of our existence would not stay confined to our region of the ocean. We would be outing every merperson in every body of water on the planet.”

Ten pairs of eyes stare, unblinking, at the screen. Only Tellin looks at me. He gives me an encouraging nod, and I continue.

“Because if this is what we want, I can do it without its costing a single human life.” I hold up my cell phone. “My friend who helped me make this video is waiting for a message from me. All I have to do is send the word, and he'll email it to every newswire on the internet. They'll have it in broadcast-ready HD in Paris, Dubai, and Hong Kong before you've made it back to Seaview Beach.”

Everyone looks too stunned to react, even Dumontia. She is staring at me like I'm some previously undiscovered species of poisonous blowfish.

For the first time since I got this crazy idea, I feel like it might actually work.

“Should I tell him to send it?” I hold up my phone, placing my finger over the send button.

Every single person in the room—every single one—simultaneously shouts, “No!”

“You're sure?” I ask, looking directly at Dumontia.

Her mouth moves like she's grinding her teeth. This is the moment when I think she realizes that she's lost. She and I are playing a high-stakes game of political chess, and I just called checkmate.

“Don't,” she says, so quietly I almost don't hear.

“What was that?” I need everyone to hear her say it.

“Don't send the video,” she enunciates. “Don't reveal our secret.”