The Savage Blue

by Zoraida Cordova

“What, I go to him and make nice?” Then I think of the army I need to form. Having Adaro as a temporary ally wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “The last time we heard of him, we had just missed him at the Vanishing Cove. Now he has the Staff of the Seas. Why hasn’t he made himself known until now?”

  Kurt buckles his sheath around his waist. “That’s precisely what we are going to find out.”

  A few weeks ago, on a day like this, I would’ve been sitting on the lifeguard tower. I would be in my uniform—an orange Speedo with orange trunks over that, which is the least flattering color on anyone who isn’t a lifeguard. The circumference of towels below would be full of girls baking in the sun, each asking stupid questions like, Hey, Mr. Lifeguard, if I drown, will you give me CPR? I’d even be playing along.

  Today I’m on a political mission with Kurt as my ambassador. Hell, before they explained it to me, I wasn’t sure what an ambassador actually did. It helps having the girls along. Thalia said a champion shouldn’t go anywhere without an entourage. I guess this is the closest I’ll ever get to feeling like a rock star.

  “Don’t pout,” Thalia whispers to me.

  “I’m not pouting.” But I know I am. This is the way I felt when I lost my first meet—helpless and angry and stupid because I hated the idea that someone could be better than me. I press my hands on the waterproof nylon of my backpack as a reassurance that I am the king’s champion and I have the Scepter of the Earth. But then Adaro has the staff. We’re equals, and I have to make him see that.

  “Hey, Tristan,” Layla says dryly. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks you can’t guess where on the beach Adaro is.”

  “That seems like a perfect waste of bucks,” Kurt says.

  “How come I didn’t get a celebration tent?”

  They laugh, stepping off the boardwalk and onto the sand. Amid the early beachgoers setting up camp with towels and blankets stained in the wash, Adaro’s celebratory tent is glaring. All silks and shimmering threads, the canopy shields him and his entourage from the gray brightness of the day.

  Kurt pulls me back, suddenly apprehensive. “Let me introduce you.”

  “I’ve already been introduced! Remember that big ceremony on Toliss with the introductions?”

  He ignores me, stepping right in front of Adaro’s makeshift court. He holds his hands at his back and bows his head with a smile. I don’t want him to bow to anyone.

  “Hello there!” Adaro says. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Hard to ignore all the conch-blowing action,” I say, eliciting a nudge from Thalia.

  “Adaro, son of Leomaris and champion of the Southern Seas,” Kurt flourishes in my direction. “I present to you Tristan Hart, son of David Hart and champion of King Karanos.”

  Freaking Adaro with his shiny golden staff and wind-tossed black hair. The white of his teeth is blinding against his cinnamon skin. He’s loud and maybe a little drunk. He’s in full human mode, though right at his ankles are a leftover spattering of red and yellow scales. I realize they’re there on purpose, letting him wave his family colors like a flag. So I let my blue scales surface on my wrists.

  He sits up, sloshing white slushie down his chest and abs, and soaking the hem of his golden Speedo.

  I start cough-laughing and Kurt gives me a few good smacks.

  “I didn’t peg you for a piña colada kind of guy,” I say.

  “It’s a piña colada kind of day!”

  “Here we go,” Layla mutters behind me. Despite the tension in her body, she keeps her chin up.

  “It’s wonderful to see you!” Adaro opens his arms wide toward me. Does he expect me to hug him? He pulls me into a bear hug, lifting me way off the ground, then kissing me on each cheek. He looks Thalia and Layla up and down with drunk golden eyes and kisses the back of their hands. Then, looking down the beach, he does a double take. Gwen in a long, white dress, stark against the grayness of the beach.

  “I didn’t realize Princess Gwenivere was here,” Adaro whispers, patting my back too long.

  Her eyes twinkle the closer she gets, and she smiles, letting me take her hand for a kiss. I hope she’s not still mad about this morning. She bows to Adaro, offering congratulations, before joining the others in the tent. Adaro drinks his piña colada faster. “Is it getting warm here?”

  A mermaid close to him draws out a fan and starts batting it at him.

  “Please, sit!” Adaro gestures to his makeshift court. “Make room for our welcome guests.”

  Every princess, except for Sarabell, does as she’s asked. They trade wicked glances, like they hope any moment Adaro and I will just start going at it. Right, court politics. It’s not like I haven’t played this game before. Angelo calls them “faux bros.” Guys from other swim teams that we hang out with even though they’re our competition.

  “I must tell you,” Adaro says, taking a tiger-shell plate of oysters and passing them down my way. “I’m not much for cold seas, but this shore is rather charming. It’s like a parade of foot-fins! Look, look at that one!”

  A jogger passes by. He’s muscular and has a lion tattooed over his chest. He lowers his sunglasses to get a better look at us but doesn’t stop. I catch Sarabell gazing after him, and when she sees me staring, she scoots away from me as if my very presence offends her.

  “I should be congratulating you.” I try to match his enthusiasm, but it’s hard to keep up with.

  “And I you.” His golden eyes are happy and wet. He combs his hair back coolly and opens his mouth, accepting the golden grape Princess Violet of the loveliest purple hair feeds him.

  I lean over to Kurt and whisper, “She got over you really quickly.”

  I don’t give him time to react. I lean forward to Adaro and ask, “So what’s the story, man?”

  “The story?”

  “Yep, the story.” I take the tray from Sarabell, despite the nagging looks from Kurt and Gwen as I do so, and suck down an oyster. The salt wakens up my taste buds, and the meat is tender so I take another. “Every adventure comes with a story.”

  Gwen leans back and says, “Everyone knows how Tristan found the quartz piece.”

  Sarabell eyes me. “Yes, the youngest sightless oracle deemed you worthy.”

  My eye twitches when she says that, but I keep my smile frozen.

  “Tell it, Addie,” Violet says. Her voice is like pressing the belly of a doll that sings back to you.

  Addie, I mouth to the bronze merman, who doesn’t like his girlfriend’s nickname coming from me.

  “Sit back, cousin. I will tell it,” says Sarabell. She stands with her back to the water. Her skirts are the color of sunset, the material sheer and threaded with gold. It has the effect of a great flame. Her smile is wicked, marring the smooth, chiseled lines of her face. “Our family is descended from one of the original kings of the sea, Ellanos—he carried the staff. Wielded it to shape the caves beneath the sea, the hidden places where we would seek shelter. It seems fitting that it would fall into our family again.”

  Layla moves closer and leans against my chest. The look I get from Gwen brings a memory flash of her trying to kiss me. Even when her lips hovered, it didn’t feel right. Cold. So cold compared to Layla. My heart is running laps, and Layla is looking up at me, pressing her hands right over it. She whispers, “Relax.” “Where was she?” Thalia asks. “The oracle.”

  This time it’s Adaro’s turn to shine. “She was in plain sight. In the tunnels beneath the Glass Castle.”

  Somewhere in my memory of the crash course Mer History 101, I remember them mentioning the Glass Castle.

  “For the foot-fins, I’ll clarify,” Sarabell says to me. “It’s the most wondrous of our homes. Our home beneath the sea. Far lovelier than Toliss. Our most prized kin live there—the keepers of our histories, our musicians who train for court, even our guard and the bigger armory.

  “When the Glass Castle was destroyed in the first war with the fey thousands of years ago, its destruction was devastating
. But we pulled through. We always do. Kurtomathetis and Thalia’s parents helped rebuilt it the second time.”

  “Hold up,” I say. “This thing was destroyed twice?”

  The mermaids and merdudes nod sadly. Thalia says, “We were forced deeper and deeper by our enemies. The first time by the land fey. The second time during our civil war.” She says “civil war” like it’s made of glass itself. I wonder where Adaro’s family stood in all of this.

  “If you would,” Sarabell says. “Now it stands stronger as a fortress instead, the Glass Castle, more beautiful than ever. Am I not correct, Kurtomathetis? You would come over to our wing and play. So little you were, always in a corner with your scrolls and tablets, the odd one of your bunch.”

  Kurt’s jaw tightens. I don’t like the way she says this. Some of the girls trade glares. What did I miss? Might as well be at the school cafeteria.

  “Maybe one day, you’ll visit.” Adaro tells me. As much as I’m trying to not like him, to put him on my shit list for being a natural rival, I can’t. He’s kind of a cool guy. He’s kind of like me.

  “How did you find her?” I ask.

  He looks up to the drifting clouds playing hide-and-seek with the sun. “She came to me in a dream…I couldn’t see her face but she whispered my name. It echoed in the halls of the castle. My father told me I was mad. He swears on augurs, but they led us nowhere, and after the third night of the same dream, I knew to trust myself. I swam beneath the castle, where the last circle of dragons is said to be kept. Only, it was empty. The dragons were gone, replaced by a ring of blue combat fire. As if the oracle wanted me—”

  “Dragons,” I repeat. “The sea dragons were gone?”

  “It is what he said,” Sarabell snips.

  Behind her, Gwen shakes her head from side to side. She presses the top of her finger to her coral lips.

  “Sorry,” I go, “bad ear.”

  “The fire was a mirage. So I swam through the tunnel, so deep I thought my insides would burst. That’s when they came. They were shadows at first, slithering around my arms and my tail until they were solid black vines. We use those for prisoners.”

  Thinking of the black vines that bind Arion to the ship, I say, “I know.”

  “The vines pulled me in different directions. It was the most painful moment of my life. All I could think of was my limbs ripping right off clean.”

  “How did you fight it?” Kurt asks for me. He can tell I don’t want to sound eager. In a way, I don’t want to know. Could I have done it? Could I have found that oracle without my friends? The only one who comes to me in my dreams is Nieve. No oracles, and I can’t help but wonder.

  “I didn’t. It released me. I could barely stay afloat. There was a deep grumble and the ground moved. It took all my strength to swim into the tunnel. The ground kept moving. Not until the wall closed behind me did I realize I was inside a giant eel. I was too big and it was choking on me. With the little strength I had left, I picked up my sword and cut myself out.

  “There she was before me, the oracle. What happened then, I will not say.” He holds the Staff of Eternity in a powerful fist. The symbols etched all along the shaft are the same ones along the hilt of my scepter. “This is what matters now.”

  “And now you’re here.”

  “I know it’s too soon for celebrations,” Adaro says. “The trident head is—”

  “Adaro!” Sarabell yells between gritted teeth.

  He holds his hand up to her and she’s instantly quiet. “If I am to be on Tristan’s land—”

  “Technically,” Layla says, “some of it belongs to the State of New York.”

  Adaro offers her a tray of pink wiggly stuff. “I like you. I wish the rest of court were as funny as you!”

  She reaches for the cube of jellyfish brain and knocks over a drink onto one of the princesses beside her. I pick up the glass and use my own T-shirt to dab at the princess’s dress by way of apology. Besides, it’s too hot to wear a T-shirt. The makeshift court shoots Layla dirty looks, like if I weren’t here, they’d drag her into the surf and drown her. I sit up a little straighter, wrapping my arm around over her shoulder, because no one looks at Layla like that.

  Then Adaro gets stone faced, eyes shifting from side to side. I see a spark of fear, and I know his journey has been just as rocky as mine.

  “Come,” I say, taking him by the arm, away from Sarabell’s prying eyes.

  “Cousin,” she says, reaching out for his hand, and he pulls out, but Gwen makes her sit back down.

  “Oh, leave them to their champion talk,” Gwen says. “Tell me, has anyone heard of the others?”

  Note: Thank Gwen later.

  Adaro and I walk down to the shoreline. This late in June, the water is still cold. It wraps around our ankles in frothy white bubbles, washing away the smallest trace of scales on our ankles.

  “Is it true?” He squints and blocks the sun from his eyes. I’m trying to picture him as the sort of guy who’d set fire to Greg’s home, but I just can’t.

  “You have to be a tiny bit more specific.”

  “There have been whispers that the silver witch has escaped her prison.” He leans in closer, voice hushed. “That she’s alive?”

  I bend down to scoop up some water and splash it on my face. The mention of Nieve makes my entire body hot. “Yes, Nieve is out there.”

  It’s a physical reaction for him too. He’s shaking out his legs like he’s cramping up. “My father always said King Karanos should’ve killed her when he had the chance. Sarabell says this shore was attacked by full-grown merrows. That’s partly why I came.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  He looks back to the laughing girls. Gwen is telling some story and they’re all enraptured by her—the way her face shifts from emotions, the fluid movements of her delicate hands. Even Layla joins in. There’s something twitchy and nervous about Adaro. It’s not the booze and it’s not his fear of Nieve and merrows. He twirls the staff with expert fingers.

  “I think we’re better in numbers,” he says. “We’re competitors, you and I, not enemies. Elias hasn’t surfaced since you two—and Dylan is way up north.”

  “Brendan is south. Our ships passed each other, but he’s safe.”

  “Good, good. My men are on my ship, ready if another such attack happens.”

  “Adaro,” I say slowly, testing the waters of our camaraderie. “Have you been attacked by those creatures?”

  He bites his lip. Then, as if his body is a balloon losing air, he holds on to my shoulder and presses his fist to his mouth. Really, I can’t stand someone else puking on me.

  “I’m okay,” he says. “But I lost over a dozen of my guard. They were great mermen, all of them.”

  Despite the strength of his body, when his amber eyes look at me, I find the fear, the helplessness. And I know, even though we’re fighting for the same throne, right now we need each other. I have to make him see that he needs me too.

  “I think I can help,” I say. “Is there somewhere more private we can talk?”

  Adaro’s ship is so elaborate that it makes Arion’s look like a cardboard box with sheets attached.

  A giant eel, similar to the makara but with the head of an ancient lion, is etched into the mast. It has red jewels the size of my head for eyes, and the body is washed in gold, just like the mast. A red flag waves. There’s a golden octopus right at the center to match the medallion around Adaro’s neck.

  When we reach the ship, I turn back and there it is: Coney Island. Adaro’s men hoist us up. Layla lets go of my shoulder and I let her go up first.

  The deck is a flurry. Dozens and dozens of men swab the deck, tend to sails and ropes. A group of girls fuss over Adaro, dressing him in traditional merman armor—a chain-link skirt and an elaborate breastplate to befit his station. He purses his lips and I suspect it’s because he misses the golden Speedo.

  He motions for us to follow him into his captain’s quarters, and then
he takes a jar of a familiar fizzy green liquid and drinks deep. My crew—Kurt, Thalia, Gwen, and Layla—wander around, admiring everything from the massive candelabra with its long taper candles to the sailing trinkets strewn about his table.

  Adaro only lets Sarabell remain.

  The door bursts open and a tiny old man runs in. He surveys the room, stopping only to bow to me and Adaro.

  “Sire, your father would not approve. This is the king’s champion.”

  I smile. “Thanks.”

  Adaro rolls his eyes as well as any teenage girl I’ve ever known. “I know very well who he is. See the quartz scepter tucked in the harness between his shoulder blades?”

  “But—”

  Adaro looks at his nails as though examining his cuticles. “You are dismissed.”

  The man thunders back out, unceremoniously slamming the door.

  “I think he’s right,” Sarabell says.

  “Then you, Cousin, are welcome to leave.”

  But she doesn’t. She makes sure the windows are all shut and there’s no one at the door. A slight burning smell is coming from a tiny hearth. The soot and cinders are slightly red with embers.

  “It seems,” Adaro says, “that we have a mutual enemy.”

  “Nieve,” I say, as he shudders at the name.

  “Are you sure you’ve seen her?”

  “A few times, actually.”

  Adaro’s thick black eyebrow arcs suspiciously. “Then why are you still alive?”

  “She thinks I’m cute,” I say, annoyed. Then I answer as honestly as I can. “She’s playing with me. It’s what she does, isn’t it?”

  “How?” Sarabell asks.

  “Gee, I don’t know, let me give her a conch call and see if she answers. The point is, she’s going to kill us for our trident pieces.”

  Adaro and I pace the room, leaving our respective entourages dizzy. Adaro bites his cuticle and I tell them of the centaur oracle, leaving out some important details like the water of Eternity and the prophecy.

  “The merrow who speaks killed an oracle?” Adaro sits down on his golden chair. He looks to Sarabell as if for guidance, and I realize this is his life. His father telling him what to do. These men reporting back to him. His family hovering around like vultures awaiting their return to power.