“Yeah.”
“This is where I leave you, sire.” Arion’s black ropes bring him down to where we stand. His black and white scales shimmer in the hazy yellow lights on the pier. “Should you need me, I am but a call away.” He pats the golden horn hanging on a leather strap across his chest.
“Thanks a lot, man.” I hold out my hand to him. I don’t know how merpeople say hi and bye. I guess I should add that to the things I still need Kurt to teach me.
Arion stares at my hand like he doesn’t know what’s required of him.
Layla laughs. “Look, Arion.” She slaps my hand, our fingers hooking in the universal Hey, man, what’s good? hand slap. I guess it’s not as universal as I thought.
“Ah.” His booming laughter echoes as he does as Layla shows him. “My very best.” He can’t help it; he still bows.
I run to the window and pull open the curtains. There’s sun! No more fog. Summer in Coney Island is here, like my grandfather said it would be.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you that happy since you were eight and there was a blizzard.” Dad stands in jeans and a white T-shirt. As he takes a sip from his coffee, the smell wafts toward me and my stomach grumbles.
“Hungry?”
“Ugh, merpeople are not known for their culinary skills. I ate jellyfish-brain Jell-O.”
“Blech.” He waves me toward the kitchen. “Kurt’s in your bathroom, and Thalia is in your mom’s. I think she’s using my shampoo to make bubbles.”
“Those darn mermaids.” I find two cold slices of leftover meat-lover’s pizza, which I devour in five bites.
“Don’t get too full. Mom wants to make pancakes.”
“Did I mention they make these green biscuit things like pancakes, but they’re like mushy shrimp and seaweed?”
He sticks his tongue out in distaste and spreads open the newspaper.
“Sorry we woke you last night when we got home. I had no idea what time it was.”
“Yeah, yeah. You kids spoiled the wonderful evening your mom and I were having.”
“Ugh, disgusting.” I put my fingers in my ears, but I can still hear him laughing. I grab a glass and some OJ.
“Oh, come on, son, your merbaby zygote didn’t make itself.”
Orange juice comes out of my nose. It burns, and my dad just rustles his newspaper so he can read it better.
“You’ve got juice all over your face,” Kurt says.
Dad leaves the Brooklyn Star open on an article that reads “Vampire Puppy Sequestered” with “Rise in Missing Teen Boys” right across from it.
Mom walks in wearing one of those long summer dresses that reaches the floor. “Did you see what your dad made for you?” She points out a huge map on the kitchen wall behind me.
“Dad?”
“Well, your mom said there could be maps involved. I figure it’s the least I can do to help.”
There are geographical maps of the world. One of all the continents, smaller ones of the magnified continents, one for North America, and one of New York City. There’s a cluster of push pins at the corner of the NYC map. I grab a blue one and push it on our street. Here. “Command Central.”
Mom pulls out the box of pancake mix and a frying pan. “Now, from the beginning.”
•••
I don’t spare any details. From Arion and the urchin brothers catching Layla on the ship to how my grandfather split the trident into three. But not the part where I fall asleep with Layla. I keep that to myself.
I forgot to tell Kurt and Thalia to leave out the part about Nieve, because it’s just going to freak Mom out. So, of course, Thalia blurts it out. “Aunt Maia, what do you know of the sea witch Nieve?”
My mom’s fork grinds against the plate. “My father imprisoned her. She’s in the caves.”
Thalia bites her lip. I guess every family has the crazy relative no one wants to talk about. In our case, we have a crazy shark-mouthed sea witch who likes to kill her family. “She’s been attacking Tristan.”
“What?”
“But only through my dreams,” I add. Sure, that makes it better.
Dad looks confused. “Who is she?”
“A wretched woman with the powers of the greats. We’ve never been able to prove it, but she killed my mother. I know she did.” Mom’s fist is white around her fork as she holds it. Her turquoise eyes catch me with a fury I’ve never seen come out of her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How long have you been seeing her?”
“Since the day of the storm. I hadn’t changed yet, so how was I supposed to know I wasn’t just going crazy after having survived something like that?
“Did she hurt you?”
“She definitely had the opportunity, but it felt more like she was playing with me.”
Mom shakes her head silently. “She was rather good at trying to make others insane.” Mom pushes her plate away. “She’d delve into your mind and make you see things that weren’t real. You’d be defenseless if she could get her hands on you.”
“Wait. He gave me a dagger.” I run out to the living room and unzip my bag. The black sphere in the center of the handle swirls slowly, like it’s in a time of its own.
Dad chuckles. “It’s no lightsaber, but it’ll do the trick. Let’s hope you don’t have to use it too soon.”
“It’s curious,” Mom says. “Nieve has been in the caves so long that entire generations don’t know of her. How does she know of Tristan?”
“There’s a traitor on the island,” Kurt says. “The guards are spread out, and more are being called. Maybe she’s not only after Tristan.”
“She always wanted my father’s throne.”
“In which case, none of the champions are safe.”
I draw Nieve’s likeness on a napkin with black marker, a crude shark mermaid. I secure it on the map off the coast of Coney. “If the next full moon is on June 26, I have seventeen days as of right now. A little more than a forknight, or whatever it’s called. If I were a sea oracle, where would I be?”
I wish I had a sound track of crickets playing in the background, because that’s what this silence sounds like—crickets. Dad pressing the pages of the Brooklyn Star flat on the table, Mom fuming in my direction with her arms crossed over her chest, and Kurt and Thalia eating as much syrup as we have stored in the pantry. Right, my champion team.
“Oh!” Mom gets up. “When I was girl, my sister Alcyone and I used to play around one of the oracle’s caves. She was a mean, nasty old thing. One time—” She looks about the room. “You don’t need to know about that part. Another time, our cousin Lucillia dared us to take something from the oracle. She’s the youngest of the ten sisters and was born without the sight. She has minor magics and can read corny shells, but that’s about it.
“But she has a wonderful collection of the rarest pearls and jewels. There was one that was my favorite. It was a pretty, slightly pink pearl from the Arctic. They only form there, and only when two clams get stuck together and—you know. I’d notice it every time my mother sent us to deliver news or food—because it’s always good to be on friendly terms with an oracle, no matter what her level of power is.”
“So you stole it?” Dad’s smile is from ear to ear.
“Do you think she noticed?” Thalia asks.
“It was one of her favorites.” Mom shrugs. “I’m sure of it. She wouldn’t know it was me, because there was no way she would’ve been able to see it happening.”
My stomach twists. A pretty pink pearl. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
“But how do you find her?” Dad asks.
Mom puts her finger on her lip. “The last I remember, she was off the Canary Islands. But that was five h—” Mom notices my dad’s cheesy smile at the fact that she’s about to reveal how old she is. “A long time ago.”
Kurt stands in front of the map, hands on his green cargo shorts. I don’t know what he sees. I see a bunch of places I�
��ve never been to. That’s the thing about growing up in Brooklyn. Everyone is from everywhere in the world, so it always feels like you’ve already been there. Angelo and his big Italian family, Layla and her Greek and Ecuadorian parents, Jerry and his Puerto Rican parents. Bertie and his crazy Jamaican grandmother who likes to chase us off their front porch with a broom and call us batti boys.
Kurt points to the water near Florida. “There’s an oracle here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do.” His reply doesn’t come out snooty, but there’s more than he’s saying. Knowing Kurt, he’s not going to give anything away. Keepers of the deep. Right. More secrets. “I mean, I’ve been there.”
“How long would it take to swim down there?” Dad asks my mom. “I mean, it’s a little over eight hundred miles on land, but then if you consider—” He stares ahead, mumbling, which he does when he’s solving my math problems. “Maybe seven days without stopping.”
“You’re forgetting the channels,” Kurt says.
“You lost me at channels,” I go.
“When you get deep enough, there are currents that break through the water and form paths that run all over the earth.” Mom walks around the table and points to New York. “If I remember correctly, there’s a channel south of Staten Island that leads to the Great Coral Caves. Is that where the oracle is, Kurt?”
“She’s there. It’s only been a few years.”
“A few human years or a few mermaid years?”
He sighs, exasperated. “A few human years. Thirty, maybe. She should still be there. If we find the sightless oracle and give her your pearl as a gift, especially if she coveted it as you said—”
“Let me go get it,” Mom says.
Oh god. I should tell her. No time like the present. “Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Was the pearl strung on a thin silver necklace?”
“Yes, it was in my treasure ch—”
“Well—”
“Please, please tell me you gave it to Layla,” she pleads.
The knot in my stomach is tighter. “Actually, I gave it to Maddy.”
“Tristan!” She reaches out her hands as if she could wring my neck, which she should.
“I didn’t think it was important. You have so much stuff in there, and remember when I was trying to get Cindy Rodriguez to go out with me and you let me pick something out so I could give it to her for Valentine’s Day? And the tiara for Maddy’s Sweet Sixteen?”
She grunts and balls her hands into fists. Dad flips the pages of his newspaper, his way of telling me, Don’t look at me, son. This is your mess. Fix it.
Kurt shrugs. “So get it back from her.”
Even Thalia laughs at the suggestion. “From what I’ve gathered from the girls at your school and her general disdain toward you, you’ll be lucky if she hasn’t already burned it, sold it, or simply thrown it out.”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t throw things out. She’s super sentimental. She keeps everything that means something to her.”
“That girl is going to need counseling because of you!” Mom starts throwing dishes into the sink. They fall so hard that I cringe, waiting for one of them to break.
“I’ll get it back.” I guess we really are going to school today. “Don’t worry.” But even as I say it, I’m not sure I can convince myself.
Dad honks twice as he pulls away, leaving Kurt, Thalia, and me staring at the steps that lead up to the school entrance guarded by clashing angels.
Some kids are jaywalking away from the school. It’s the first sunny day in a week, so half the school must be doing the in-’n’-out, walking into the building just for show before turning right around and heading to the park, Coney, the mall, or if you’re my friends, the kosher Mexican restaurant on Sunset with the hot Mexi-Jewish girl behind the counter.
I’m thinking about how I can get the pearl back from Maddy when she won’t even talk to me. Adaro and the others are probably halfway around the world, and I’m back at high school. Some things just aren’t right.
Someone shouts my name across the street. Kurt and Thalia’s hands hover over the daggers at their waists, which they say are glamoured from the human eye. My dagger is in my backpack, because I may have seen a lot of shit in the past couple of days, but this whole glamour business still gets me.
“Ryan!” Thalia shouts, forgetting about the weapon and taking a step forward.
Wonder Ryan runs against the traffic. Thalia’s face is as bright as the noon sun when she sees him. I’m surprised they aren’t running toward each other in slow motion.
“Hi!” I know his hello includes me and Kurt, but he only looks at Thalia. He’s wearing a T-shirt the color of asphalt and new jeans. His hair is messier, not as slicked to the side as usual. “I missed you.”
“So did I.”
“Yeah,” I smirk, “so did I.”
Kurt shoves me away toward the entrance, and we share a laugh. I’d never admit that watching them makes my insides feel like beef jerky, like I’m shriveling up because I don’t have someone looking at me like that. I can only think of one face I want to see. And when she comes into view, my heart sinks, because she’s getting out of a white BMW with tinted windows and a license plate that spells PUMPITUP. Suddenly I remember Alex, the orange guido from the beach who helped find me. Fire creeps over my skin. Even my dagger tucked into my backpack hums as though it feels how ticked off I am.
“What’s wrong?” Layla asks, slinging her backpack over one shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say with a shrug. If she’s not going to tell me that she’s seeing someone, then fine. “Did you get in trouble?”
“I told my dad I was with Maddy. Her mom unplugs the phone at night, so it’s not like they called. Still, he was super mad.”
“Hello,” Kurt says, all stiff and merman-y.
She smiles at him and says, “Today might be boring, after yesterday.”
“I look forward to human pleasantries, actually. First, Tristan needs to acquire something from the angry blond girl.”
Before Layla starts breathing fire at me, I go, “I’ll explain.” The school bells chime and we ascend the steps.
“Hey, Tristan,” a girl calls out to me in the hallway. I don’t know her name, but I wave.
Ryan slaps my arm, “Dude, Coach said he’s going to pull us out of class again for practice. Luis texted me the announcements already.”
“Isn’t it great to be in charge?” Layla asks. They all fall into a giddy stride walking into the school. Though arriving back home didn’t feel any different, coming back to school does. There’s something different about the walls, the lighting, the way my classmates’ emotions fill the sterile air. Or maybe it’s just me and my guilt pangs over having to break my ex-girlfriend’s heart all over again.
•••
“You’re officially being weird,” Layla tells me, gathering her hair into a bun for practice.
“I’m a weird guy,” I say, stretching my arms to either side, “in case you didn’t notice.”
“You know,” she smirks, “I still haven’t seen you as a mermaid.” Her laugh is small, forced. Her nervousness smells like birthday candles after they’re extinguished.
“I’m all man, lady,” I try to joke, but it comes out angry and she shrinks back. “I’m sorry.”
She dismisses me with her hands and says, “Whatever,” before diving into the pool.
What the hell happened? A few hours ago she was all over me and now…What did I do wrong?
Coach blows his whistle. “Chop, chop, Hart! Meet is tomorrow. Gotta be ready!”
I nod, scanning the team one more time for Maddy to come strolling in with her white T-shirt over her bathing suit. She doesn’t. She wasn’t in school all day either.
I dive when the whistle blows again, the water being my only comfort against the dark thought looming in the back of my mind—the thought that it’s only my first day as a champion and
I’m already failing.
•••
The hot dog is cold and the bread is stale in my mouth, even after I drown it in ketchup. Bertie and Angelo have found a reclining chair with wheels and are taking turns pushing each other across the room, because there are only two lunch monitors and they keep disappearing.
I lower my head to whisper to Layla. “Have you talked to Maddy? She’s not in school today. I need to talk to her.”
Layla shakes her head sadly. “I bet she’s just cutting class, her and her new bad-girl self.”
I hesitate, breaking my hot-dog bun into crumbs. “Do you remember that necklace I gave her?”
“Yeah, that little pink pearl. She loves it.”
“It belongs to one of the oracles. I need it back.”
She exhales loudly. “You know, just when I didn’t think you could sink any lower with her.”
“Me?” I yell indignantly. “You’ve seen what I’ve seen. I wouldn’t do it unless this was serious.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know if she still has it. Knowing her, she hasn’t thrown it out. Did you try her phone?”
“I tried. It goes to voice mail, and she doesn’t text back.” Layla pushes her tray of food away from her in disgust, and my heart darkens like the clouds that are no longer clinging to the sky.
We sit in silence and watch our friends decide to hang out on the field after class, because Principal Quinn is supposed to be in meetings all day and Ryan has keys to the sports equipment. Kurt avoids looking in my direction, feeling a little guilty that he’s having so much fun.
•••
The target rings are lined up in the middle of the field. Each one has a different teacher’s picture taped at the bull’s-eye. Most of the arrows are horribly off, if they make it to the rings at all. There are only seven guys on the archery team, and they take great pride in teaching everyone else. I’m okay at it, but I’ve never gotten a bull’s-eye. Ryan, having taken archery since he was in junior high, is the captain of the team.
I take a seat near the bin of arrows.
Thalia giddily unzips the oversized purple backpack my mom gave her this morning. She pulls out a finely crafted bow and a set of arrows. I know this is a terrible idea. I would never, ever bring weapons to school. But Kurt insisted we have to always be prepared.
The Vicious Deep Page 17
