I tap Shark Face on the shoulder, and when he turns around, I bash the hilt of the dagger in his eye. He makes a terrible sound, cupping the nasty black blood pouring down his face. Something the nautilus maid said bugs me. Would it make it easier if you didn’t think of me as people? Bad time to feel her freaky vibes in my head, but Shark Face doesn’t even come after me. He’s going back after Kurt.
My hands are shaking. I don’t like killing anything. Not merrows, not mermen. I hated it in elementary school when Angelo used his BB gun to kill squirrels. But if I don’t do it, my friends are going to keep dying. I grab Shark Face around the throat in a nelson, and from behind me, Layla screams, pushing her sword into his chest.
It takes her two tries to get it through to the back.
I can feel the tip of her blade as the merrow breaks down all over me, a hand still grabbing onto my wrist. “That was too close,” I say. She smiles, wiping the black ooze from her cheeks.
I pull the merrow’s hand off my wrist and throw it at the merman fighting Kurt. He turns around, eyes glowing like headlights. “You’re lucky, prince.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because no one is to lay a finger on you.”
That’s enough of a distraction for Kurt to kick the breath out of him. Kurt lifts his sword over the merman’s head. Kurt’s breath catches and he hesitates, just for a moment but I can see it. He drives the sword right through the merman’s back, and the merman turns to a slopping pile of foam.
Behind Kurt, Archer shows himself again. He’s crouching on the edge of the ship, one hand under his chin. He’s studying us, smiling the whole time.
There’s a bang on the other end of the deck, and its force knocks me forward into Kurt. Fishy chunks of merrow spray everywhere. We scramble to Gwen, who is fending off the last merman in Archer’s troupe. He’s so tatted up that there isn’t any bare flesh except for his face. He’s holding his knife right over her, execution style. I reach out with my dagger, but Archer’s hand clamps down on the merman’s neck with a powerful squeeze. The merman strangles, eyes peeled back and body shaking until Archer’s fist is full of surf and air.
An arrow falls to the floor, and I realize Archer’s grip wasn’t what killed him. Someone shot him.
“You’ve fought well tonight.” Archer runs to the ledge of the ship. “But soon our numbers will span the entire sea, and you, brother, will join our cause.”
“We shouldn’t let him get away,” Thalia says, craning over the ledge. “We can swim to him.”
I hold my hand out. “If that’s what he wants, he’ll have a whole lot more of these guys waiting for us.”
Kurt picks up the foreign arrow and examines it. “Cedarwood.
Gold leaf. Golden spearhead. Ouch. It’s very sharp.”
“You didn’t shoot?” I look to Thalia.
“I couldn’t reach my bow in time.” She holds up her daggers in her hands.
“Then where the hell did it come from?”
The unanswered question settles over us. We reform our circle, careful of the shifting shadows along our ship. There’s the rustle of water, the flapping of loose sails, the creaking of the old wood swelling against the sea, and the extra loud thumping of Layla’s purely human heart.
“We know you’re there,” I warn.
“Easy now,” he says, stepping forward.
His hands are raised, holding up his bow. Even in the dark, I recognize him instantly. Brendan, champion of the West. Starlight gives a coppery sheen to his bright red hair. His clothes look like he had a fight with a big pair of scissors.
Though the only time I met him was for a brief hello at Toliss Island during the presentation of the champions, Brendan runs down the steps and pulls me into a strangling man-hug. “It’s good to see you too, Cousin Tristan.”
Brendan and I huddle around Arion on the quarterdeck.
We insist on dressing the cut on his shoulder with the muddy gunk Blue used on my knuckles. It stings like hell, but Arion doesn’t twitch.
“How’s that?” I say, slathering it on with a patch of seaweed.
“Don’t worry about me, Master Tristan,” Arion says. “I’ve been through worse.”
“That’s not the point.” I wipe my hands on a dirty rag. “You should have been able to defend yourself properly.”
“A hundred years ago,” Arion says, tugging slightly on the ropes at his hands, “I would’ve gutted that Archer like the beast he is.”
I spit out a nasty chunk of meat stuck in my teeth.
“I don’t want to think about what you might have swallowed during that battle,” Brendan says. “If I told my father of this, he wouldn’t believe me.”
From a leather pouch slung on his belt, Brendan pulls out a long, hand-rolled cigarette. When he lights it, I recognize the smell as lily flower. Even when his father was presenting him in front of the court, hands in the air, Brendan didn’t strike me as the serious type. Not like Elias. Not like Adaro.
“How bad is the damage to the ship?” I ask.
Arion points to the sails. “The main sail’s been cut and some of the ropes burned. Nothing the urchins and I can’t fix.”
“There’s also this,” I say, digging through the bag of loot we managed to salvage. “The girls won this at the tavern. From the look on your face, I can tell you know what this is.”
Arion takes the barrel in his calloused hands. He beats his knuckle on the wood. “Aye.”
“Great,” I say. “What is it?”
Brendan laughs. “It’s potted wind, cousin. Young demigods make a trade of their gifts. Sell a bit of rain to a city with drought. That sort of thing.”
“With this,” Arion says, “we could return to Coney Island waters by morning. It will suck the air right out of the skies, leaving other ships stranded.”
Arion excuses himself to adjust the sails, taking the barrel with him.
“Wish I’d gotten here sooner,” Brendan says between puffs. “My crew was too far away when I saw the commotion. Arion here noticed me and pulled me up just in time.”
“And you came alone?”
Brendan pats himself on his chest like No big deal. “Don’t be fooled. I’m a lot more ruthless than I’d like to admit. Besides, your mermaids here have bigger cockleshells than half the boys of my court. You wouldn’t believe the guppies I ended up with.”
I think of the last two days. The snide comments, the sword fighting, the death threats. And still, I wouldn’t trade them for a ship full of heavily armed mermen. “Yeah, my crew’s all right.”
Brendan hoists himself on the ledge with one leg up. With his cigarette hand, he points down to where my friends are gathered on the clean deck around a toasty fire. I’ve never had a cousin before. It makes me feel cool. This is my cousin Brendan with the killer bow and arrows. He smokes lily flower. Awesome hair runs in the family.
“Is that the girl that swam against Elias?” he holds onto his stomach, laughing. “You must truly have Grandfather’s charm to get those two following you. Layla, was that her name? Exquisite. Those eyes, like melting amber. But surely I don’t have to tell you that.”
As if she knows we’re talking about her, Layla sends her deathbeam stare at me.
“Yeah. Too bad she can’t decide if she wants to punch me or kiss me.”
“Lucky bastard.” Brendan punches my shoulder. “Those are the best kind. Keeps it fresh. Don’t you find the princesses boring? After a while it’s like, I don’t care how many shipwrecks you’ve single-handedly created this year.”
“Gwen’s okay, I guess.”
He gives me a funny smile, all “Are you serious?” “You mean you haven’t been with the other princesses that showed up to your court?”
“Dude, I don’t have a court. I have a high-school infestation.”
“I have no idea what that means.” He flicks the butt into the sea and lights the next one. “As we speak, I have twenty princesses on my ship.”
“Twenty
?”
“It’s a big ship.” He smirks. “How do you think I knew to come here?”
I’m not keeping up. “One of the princesses told you there was an oracle here?”
“Not exactly. I was after something else. My own personal quest.” He presses his finger to his lips. “Don’t tell the others.”
“Sure, sure. But how exactly do the princesses help you?”
He’s studying me as if I’m a totally new species, which I suppose, in the end, I am.
“It’s part of the championship. Beautiful gems from the most powerful families. Some, completely clueless. Others, with surprising skills, like star charting. Did Kurtomathetis not tell you? They can get out of hand when ignored. You know mermaids.”
Honestly, I don’t know mermaids. I don’t know anything. So I’m like, “Totally. Out of hand.”
“Anyway, I should congratulate you on your success. The quartz scepter was always my favorite part of the trident. When I was little, I’d like to dare my squires to go up and touch the crystal. Wouldn’t hurt them or anything, just give them a good jolt.” He blows the sweet smoke in a cloud puff and laughs through it. “Did you find that oracle back in the cove?”
“Did you?”
He holds his hands up and flips them back and forth. “Didn’t really look, to tell you the truth. Charming little town, the cove. Though a bit prudish for my taste.”
“I did hear something about extremely naked Sea People walking about.”
Brendan shrugs, happily tugging on his cigarette. “You’re Grandfather’s champion, not me.”
I turn to the calm, black sea. “I didn’t ask to be.”
“No one does. It might have been me, but he didn’t like that my mom ran away to be with my dad.”
“My mom ran away to be with my dad too.”
“Grandfather’s a funny one.” Brendan flicks the stub of his cigarette overboard. “They call him the best king our people ever had because there are fewer executions.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not when the alternative is to have more prisoners. He’s more lenient than the kings of the past. Some see that as a weakness, but my father says he’s smart. He wants to keep our people alive when so few of us are left. Slow aging and wars. If only we could make more of ourselves like vampires. I’ll tell you one thing. I wouldn’t want to follow after him.”
I remember what Reggie said at the bar. The sea folk are responsible for their own downfall.
“I’m confused,” I say. “Then why are you even championing, or whatever it’s called?”
Suddenly he reminds me of Angelo and the way he shrugs when I ask him if he wants sausage on his pepperoni pizza. The entire sea kingdom is at stake, not to mention the safety of my Coney, and it all comes down to a shrug.
“It’s expected of me. My father wants me to change things for our kind. Told me I could have a ship and gold, and if I don’t become king, he’ll fund an expedition for me. But he knows me, and me? I like being alive. Every time I see one of us reduced to surf, it shakes me to my core. One moment we’re whole, then the next moment we’re gone. Poof. ”
The lily flower must be kicking in because he’s grinning so hard. “Poof,” he repeats.
“Hey, champions,” Layla shouts from the deck. She raises a string of dried octopus like a ruler. “When you’re done with all your warrior chat, come join the rest of the class, won’t you?”
Brendan jumps off the ledge and runs down to the deck, nestling himself between Gwen and Kurt. The only one he hasn’t met formally is Layla. He takes her hand and kisses it a little too long.
I don’t have the stomach to eat, but the urchins felt guilty over allowing the ship to be captured. The others scarf down the plates of food. Thalia uses Brendan’s arrow as a shish-kabob stick, which is incredibly gross, considering the arrow was just stuck in someone’s chest.
Layla takes a bite of the tentacle in her hand. “Is it just me, or is anyone else freaked out that merrows can talk now?”
“Not all of them,” Kurt says. “Just the leader, Archer.”
“For now,” Thalia says. “Can you imagine a thousand Archers?”
I remember flashes of the silver mermaid slithering in my dreams. “She’s not strong enough for that.”
“Didn’t want to fight, for such a shit talker,” Layla says.
“He was scouting us.” I crunch down on a handful of seaweed chips. “Now he can go back and tell Nieve. They’ll come back stronger, and we have to be prepared for their next move.”
“Especially since both of you came back empty-handed from your visits to the oracle,” Gwen says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Charming as always, Lady Gwenivere,” Brendan says. He offers her a lily-weed cigarette, and suddenly he’s her new favorite person.
“No, it’s fine.” I take the cup Blue leaves for me. It’s his own brew of tea because he notices I rarely touch the sea mead. The bittersweet liquid warms my insides. “She didn’t have a piece of the trident anyway.”
Kurt’s shoulders sag sheepishly. “That’s my fault. I was so sure—”
“We can’t go back and change it. The thing is, we’re alive and from here on, we work our way to the next game plan.”
“You sound like Coach Bellini.” Layla leans her shoulder closer to mine. “Minus the swearing.”
“Listen,” Brendan says, throwing the latest butt into the crackling fire. The tiny thing is so potent that it floods us with its scent instantly. “You are more than welcome to tag along with my ship. We’re heading down and south. Galapagos. Lovely place. Lots of strange things hidden.”
Layla smiles. “My dad is from there.”
“See? All the more reason to come with me. My ship is full of boring people, and you have proven to be quite fun.”
For a moment, I wonder if I could do it. Stop right now and take my scepter on an adventure with my new cousin. We could discover new worlds or just party on his boat. Would Nieve keep searching for me? What would my mom think? What would become of the court? Only for a moment.
“Brendan,” Kurt says in his awkward cordial way. “If I may ask, if you don’t search for the oracles, what do you seek to find?”
Brendan’s blue eyes shine with excitement. “One of the princesses claims she knows the location of the City of Clouds, full of winged people. I needed a map from the cathedral at the cove.”
“Aren’t you worried about what happens to our people?” Thalia asks.
Her words remind me of the nautilus maid. Our blood promise lingers on my tongue.
“You mistake me for a leader, lovely Thalia.” Brendan’s charm is contagious. I think I have a dude crush on him. He reminds me of me before the storm. “Now Adaro, there’s your challenge. He’s got more men on his ship than me, you, and Dylan combined. The princesses, that’s your own personal map to the next oracle.”
“What do you mean?” Kurt asks.
“Alone, Tristan has nothing. He can swim all the seas and still not find anything. The princesses are resources, like a map of the seas laid out for you. You simply have to coax information out of them.”
I cough loudly into my fist. “There has been zero coaxing here.”
But I have to admit, without Gwen there to help me find Shelly, I’d still be in Coney Island waters chasing my tail.
“Also,” Brendan smirks, “if you don’t pay attention to them, they’re likely to decimate your village and drown all the men.”
“What?” I choke on my tea.
“No king.” My cousin shrugs. “No rules.”
“He’s right,” Gwen says. “I can think of three, maybe four of them with powerful families.”
“Good thing Gwen’s here,” Layla says. “You have your own personal matchmaker.”
I chew on my food extra long so as not to go near that statement. When I swallow, my throat is dry. “All roads lead back to Coney Island.”
“Are you sure?” Brendan
holds his hands out to the fire and rubs them. “My offer stands.”
I stare at my friends for a moment. Would it be easier on all of them if I quit? Would I still have to kill the nautilus maid? Can I go back home and try to pick up my life the way it used to be?
“Or you could come with us.” I don’t know why I say it, but once it’s out I’m hoping he’ll say yes. “It would be nice to have family around.”
Brendan smiles. I can see the indecision in his hesitation. South, he can explore his dreams. North, with me, he would face more of this, more of Archer, and I’m bummed when he says, “Maybe next time.”
After Brendan says his good-byes to the others, he pulls me into another man-hug. He balances on the ledge and bows properly. “May the seas bend to your journey.”
Then he dives, shifting in the air, a metallic blue ripple sliding into the wave that is taking us back home.
A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.
—W.B. Yeats, from “A Man Young and Old”
Coming home isn’t what I thought it’d be like.
It’s not a parade of balloons and trumpets and flash photographers documenting my success. Because, right now, I’m empty-handed, and Coney Island is just as it was when we left. Luna Park is even lit up with thousands of flashing lights while the rest of the boardwalk sleeps.
The digital clock on the Cyclone stadium billboard reads 3:33 a.m. Still Monday before sunrise. The barrel of wind propelled us north with so much force that at one point the ship was flying over the surface of the water.
After saying our good-byes to Arion and the urchins, I take a moment to breathe in the hot summer night. No matter what gum, dirt, or dog piss is lingering from the day’s tread marks, I press my forehead on the ground.
The Savage Blue Page 8
