“If it’s not against store policy or something, yes.”
“Here you are,” said the woman, unlocking a tiny dressing room hidden behind the wall of dresses.
“Thanks,” I said, heading for the dressing room.
“What’s going on here, Ravena?” said a pointy-chinned Ravenflame woman with extraordinarily high hair.
“This Normal wished to try on a dress for the ball, Neva,” said old Ravena.
“I’m sorry, but we do not serve Normals,” said Neva.
“But, the ball is a mandatory event! You have to sell her a dress!” cried Airianna angrily. Go Airi!
“Watch your tongue, Fairhair. Remember your place,” said Neva.
“You know, I might just go nude, Neva. Credit Neva, here, for the inspiration. Thanks for trying,” I said gently to Ravena as we made our way to the door.
Once we walked out of the store, Neva slammed and locked the door behind us.
“What are we going to do?” said Airianna, repeatedly stomping her foot.
“I’ll just claim an involuntary absence.”
“You’ll get detention for weeks, maybe months, Marina. We’ll have to find something, unless you want to spend weeks with Mr. Anderson.”
Very unpleasant thought. “Okay, so what are we going to do?” I asked.
“Psst.”
“Did you just hear a psst?” Airianna asked, wide-eyed.
“Either that or someone has to urinate,” I said, looking around the desolate town. I finally saw the heavily decorated door of The Bay Shop sitting slightly ajar. “There…The Bay Shop.”
“Should we go?” Airianna asked nervously.
“Absolutely.”
We hurried across the street and hopped into The Bay Shop.
“Took ya long enough. I’m Eva Waterberry. Airi, nice to see you again. Marina Valentine, very nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand.
I shook her hand in utter disbelief. Kind, old Mrs. Waterberry, the very same tended to by Troy, was a Ravenflame. She had the remaining red parts of her hair spiked straight up. Though wrinkly and worn, her face still had the mark of a once great beauty, and the lively spark in her violet eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Not what you expected am I?” she asked.
“Not really,” I admitted.
“I’m old to be sure, but I’m also very feisty. No one’s gotten the better of me yet. Now, you need a dress, I think?”
“Since they refused to sell me one, I’m definitely short a dress.”
“Neva’s a real bitch,” she said, laying on her thick Texas accent.
“Mrs. Waterberry!” yelped Airianna, clasping her hands over her chest.
“Oh, Airi, honestly. You are really one of the sweetest, prettiest girls I’ve ever known, but you need to grow some. Follow me,” she whispered, walking into a small room behind the stairs.
Airianna, looking a little flushed, said, “May I use your restroom?”
“Just down the hall, on the left.”
Once Airianna was in the bathroom, Mrs. Waterberry seized my shoulder. “Now, I do believe you have something for me,” she said.
“Beg your pardon?”
“I believe you found something on the steps of the public library…”
“Oh! Yes! Maryweather’s charm,” I said, digging in my bag. I handed it to Mrs. Waterberry, who examined it closely.
“Hmm, clever, very clever, my friend,” she said, chuckling.
“She was your friend?” I asked.
“Is my friend,” she said.
“Maybe you don’t know. Maryweather passed away.”
Okay, so not the response I expected.
After several hearty laughs, Mrs. Waterberry said, “Dear child, she’s not dead.”
“But, I saw her explode. Poof! Gone,” I said, hoping it didn’t sound too harsh.
“Oh, she went poof all right, but she’s not dead. Want to see?” she whispered. I nodded. “Very well.” She waved and twisted her hand at the bathroom door. “Only for your eyes to see and your mind to remember, understood?”
“Understood.”
Slowly, Mrs. Waterberry opened the tiny box charm, and an even tinier pixie emerged from within. With glittering yellow wings and matching smock dress, the little pixie hugged Mrs. Waterberry’s face. Even though her face was younger, the little pixie was unmistakably Maryweather.
“Thank you for saving me, Marina,” said little Maryweather, tapping the tip of my nose. Her voice was squeaky, but sweet.
“But, I didn’t save you,” I said.
“Yes you did, believe that,” said Mrs. Waterberry. “When she disintegrated, she was able to lock herself inside this charm. It’s actually a pretty nice little hideout. Look,” she said, handing me the charm, along with a magnifying glass.
“It looks like a little bedroom,” I said.
“Maryweather has always been good at setting up a posh life for herself.”
“Hey! Somebody let me out!” Airianna shrieked, wiggling the bathroom doorknob.
“She’ll be fine,” said Mrs. Waterberry, waving her hand dismissively. “You see, Marina, my friend, here, is a parter, meaning she is part-mermaid, part-pixie.”
“So that’s what she meant when she called herself a parter,” I said.
“Please, try to discover things, Marina. Will you try?” squeaked little Maryweather.
“I’m in total try mode. Promise.”
“Goodbye, Eva, my dear friend. Best to you, lovely Marina—stay safe, be alert. You will find allies in unlikely places,” said Maryweather in a singsong voice. She waved goodbye and disappeared up the chimney.
“What will happen to her now?” I asked.
“She’ll go live in a small body of water somewhere in Louisiana, near her family. You see, Maryweather and I are not your typical Ravenflames. We believe in a very different way of governing merps. There are others like us. We are your allies,” she said, taking my hands.
The knocks from the bathroom were getting much more desperate.
“Why is it up to me?”
“Because you are the only Normal remaining. Only a Normal can break this cycle. I cannot tell you anything further. We are bound by a pact.”
“The water pact, yes, I read about it,” I said quickly.
Louder, angrier knocks came from the bathroom, accompanied by some rather frantic whimpers.
Mrs. Waterberry smiled widely. “You were able to glean some valuable information before the younger Ravenflame bullies arrived.”
“Why didn’t they realize Maryweather survived? Didn’t they know she was part-Tinkerbell?”
“They had no idea, not that they couldn’t have found out. It’s not as though Maryweather tried to hide her half-self. But, that’s the difference between us old buzzards and the younger crowds—we cared, we were thorough, and we never accepted things at face value.”
Airianna’s knocks were now seriously earsplitting bangs.
“Well, I’m not a typical member of the younger crowd,” I said, folding my arms.
“That, I can believe. Now, I think it’s time I show you your dress.” Once again, Mrs. Waterberry waved her hand at the bathroom door.
All I saw was a brief flash of Airianna’s horrified face as she flew out the door, stumbled across the hall, and slammed against the wall.
“Sorry about that, Airi,” said Mrs. Waterberry, winking at me. “That bathroom door tends to stick.”
“It’s okay, it’s fine,” said Airianna, straightening her skirt. “Did you find a dress?”
“Not yet,” I said, brushing a few flyaway hairs from Airianna’s face.
“Oh, good, I didn’t miss it then. I want to help pick just the right dress for you. Mrs. Waterberry, if you wouldn’t mind pointing us in the direction of the dresses, I think we’re ready to Cinderella-ize Marina.”
“Well, it’s not dresses, exactly. It’s more like dress, as in one,” she said, flinging open a gorgeous bronze dresser
hidden in a small, slanted corner of the cluttered room.
I felt a twinge in my stomach, a catch in my throat, and a tug on my heart—this was my dress. “I love it,” I said, gently touching the flowing lavender and blue chiffon.
“It’s the ocean dress! I thought it was an urban dress myth!” yelped Airianna, jumping up and down.
“The ocean dress?” I inquired.
“The sea is said to have created a gown made from the soul of the sea,” said Airianna.
“Intense,” I said.
“Airi, there’s a blue velvet box on the counter just outside the room, could you get it for me?” asked Mrs. Waterberry.
“Of course. Be right back,” she said, staring longingly at the dress before rounding the corner.
“According to legend, the lost souls of the Ravenflame-Fairhair water war will stir the dress when the one true Siren Savior surfaces,” whispered Mrs. Waterberry. “The minute you arrived in town, the dress came to life. And now, after seeing your reaction to the dress, I know it’s true. Want to know why it’s up to you, Marina? Well, I’ll tell you. You are the one true Siren Savior. Those that know its legend will mark you for something far worse than death the second they see you in this dress.”
“Lucky me. But, um, I didn’t think mermaids and sirens were the same things…uh, beings.”
“Yeah, well, you can blame it on our French ancestors. The French word for mermaid is sirène. So, when future generations translated the original text, it was either going to be Mermaid Savior or Siren Savior. They picked the latter because it sounded better. Mermen have been trying to change it to Merpeople Savior for years. But, again, it doesn’t have the same zip. Anywhoo, it’s actually pretty perfect, since the Savior’s duties probably cover the snobby sirens. I have a cousin twice removed who’s a siren. She’s a real snoot,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “Besides, the key word in all of it is savior. That should be your focus.”
“How can I be some Savior? I hardly know what I’m doing half the time…and I have legs…only legs…no fin.”
“Accept the truth, Marina. I cannot say more, I’m afraid.”
“Stupid pact.”
Mrs. Waterberry nodded. “And there are parts I simply don’t know the answers to. You are as much of a mystery as the deli—”
“The deliverer? Do you know anything about it?”
“I know enough to know I don’t want to know about it…and, trust me, you want to stay far away from this topic.”
“So I hear.”
“Take this.” She handed me what looked like a tiny, stuffed hermit crab.
“Um, thanks. But…why and what for?” I asked, rolling it in my hand.
“It’s a key.”
“Oh, so there’s a key hidden inside its fluff?” I said, squeezing it.
“Nope. It is the key.”
“Stuffed hermit crab key. Random. Okay, well, what does it open, and how the heck does it work?”
“No clue. You’ll find out when he contacts you again.”
“Trey! You’ve been helping him?”
“Sure have.”
“He sent me a message—a circle with spikes at the top and an arrow pointing to the number seventeen. Here,” I said, digging the note out of my bag and handing it to her. Knowing Trey, he would consider Mrs. Waterberry exempt from the ‘Squiggle ONLY’ clause of his note. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“The circle with spikes at the top could be a sea creature…maybe a partially plucked puffer or a fixated fliptarr. Both will cause havoc. The seventeen could be any number of merp myths…the seventeen siren sagas, seventeenth serendipity of the Sandtalian calendar, squid sting murders from the seventeenth century…I just don’t know. Best if you just keep this and the key with you,” she said, handing the clue back to me. “Whenever Trey can make contact, you’ll need to act. Until then, observe. Leave the clue chasing to Trey. He’s the intuitionist and far better equipped than a reader to make improbable discoveries. You will only boggle your brain and probably put him in even more danger if you try and do his job. After all, you have a new occupation now…Savior. Remember, your ears and heart will only deceive you.”
I’m sure the half-terrified, half-dumbfounded expression plastered on my face at that moment was hilarious. Sadly, I wasn’t much for laughing.
“Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t figure out which blue velvet box you wanted, but then all the others suddenly disappeared,” said Airianna, handing the box to Mrs. Waterberry.
“How very interesting,” said Mrs. Waterberry, stealing a wink at me.
“You know, the dress is gorgeous, but, Marina, it’s not red,” said Airianna. “The rules say our dress must be red.”
I could accept my fate and wear this dress, effectively announcing myself as a threat to the Ravenflames, or I could hide. Listening to my instincts, I made a decision.
“Don’t care. It’s a me dress.”
“And you’re not Cinderella, are you?” asked Mrs. Waterberry.
This old gal really understood me. “Nope, and I never will be.”
“Although, these might make you feel a little like her, and what’s so bad about that from time to time?” Mrs. Waterberry removed a pair of sparkling crystal heels from the blue velvet box. “Take them. They’re yours now.”
“Now those I approve of,” said Airianna.
With my new dress and shoes in hand, I said goodbye to Airianna, thanked her for her help, and headed home to wait the long two days before I could slip on the ocean dress. I, Marina Valentine, enemy of dresses, rival of high-heels, friend of jeans and t-shirts alike, am giddy to put on a dress.
Chapter Twelve
Ballerina Interrupted
Valentine’s Day. I was all ready for the ball and feeling shockingly whimsical. My hair was shiny and full, and my dress was elegant and flowing. Since slipping on the shoes, I’ve decided this whole dressing up thing wasn’t so bad after all.
“Sweetie, the limo’s here. Oh, Marina, you look so beautiful,” said my mom when I walked into the living room. “I still can’t believe how kind that old shopkeeper was to give you this outfit. You look like an angel.”
“You really think so, Mom?”
“Breathtaking,” she said, her eyes glistening.
“Uh, the one who has the breath-stealing power tonight is you.”
“You don’t think it’s too red? You know how red can look hooker-bright on a blond,” she said, twirling in her long gown.
“Mom, you’re a total Kate,” I said, putting a pack of gum in my purse.
“Well, now, which one? There are tons of Kate’s in Hollywood.”
“I mean, look at them. Does it matter?”
“Good point. Hope you won’t mind walking in with your old mom.”
“You’re hardly old, and I wouldn’t want to walk in with anyone else.” Well, except for Troy Tombolo, but that was unlikely to happen in this lifetime.
On a glorious February night, my mom and I crawled into the back of a black limousine and enjoyed the ride to the ball.
“Aren’t you excited to see Hambury House? I’ve been looking forward to it all week!”
“The ball isn’t being held in town?” Only now did I notice the limo driving away from downtown—reckon I was too preoccupied playing with the crystal dolphin, mermaid, and seahorse charms adorning my dress.
“I told you this week about Hambury House. Don’t you ever listen to me?”
“Of course…just not that day, apparently.”
My mom sighed and rolled her eyes. “Hambury House opens its doors once a year for the annual Valentine’s Ball. Its owner is a mysterious recluse. Yet, the house is somehow ready for the ball practically overnight with no help from any townsfolk.”
“Nobody knows who owns the house?”
“Not a soul. Fascinating, isn’t it?”
“That’s one word for it.”
Twenty minutes later, the limo pulled up in front of a mag
nificent manor. Giant cupid balloons towered over the brightly lit, peach-colored estate. My mom and I filed in with the rest of the guests as heart-shaped fireworks illuminated the sky above.
Mom hugged me before prancing over to join a rather dashing Mr. Gibbs. I watched him kiss her hand and escort her into the ballroom.
Well, I’m alone in a dress and heels. Not my ideal scenario on Vomit Valenyuck Day, but I guess it could be worse…can’t think of how at the moment, but I’m sure it could be. Can’t put off the inevitable any longer, I suppose. Ballroom, here I come.
Ah, well, this was interesting. Everybody stopped to stare at me. The fact that I’m the only one not wearing red probably aggravated the situation. I wondered how many of the awed faces knew the legend of the dress. I forged ahead, determined not to let any of them intimidate me.
“You look lovely, Marina, truly,” whispered Airianna when I passed. She didn’t dare speak to me outright in front of so many Ravenflames.
Hmm. I’ll take post at the dessert table. After all, my butt is always looking to expand, and I do love pastries. Ooh, a King Cake!
“At least you actually dressed appropriately for the ball.” The slimy voice ruining my King Cake could only belong to one person: Katrina Zale.
Dear God. Her dress was hideous. It was bright red, strapless, backless, and ridiculously short.
“Practicing for your centerfold debut, Kat?” I never fail to piss her off royally. It was surprisingly gratifying.
“Well, it is what guys have drooled over for years.”
“And now they drool over the new Ned Dam Fourth and Inches video game. Things change.”
“Where did you find that dress?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
She knows about the legend. “Why do you want to know?” I asked.
“Curious.” Her attempt at a genuine smile unnerved me.
“Memory lapse, sorry,” I said.
“No matter. Shame such a dress is wasted on the flat form of a Normal. Have to get back to my sexy date. Enjoy your pastries.” She walked off, slinking across the room.
Wretch. I will not let her spoil my King Cake, by darn. Although the vision of Troy Tombolo in a tuxedo might cause me to choke on a bite, the sight of a trashy merbitch hanging all over him would effectively ruin my appetite. Such was the case, I’m afraid. Just look at her, draped over him like a limp piece of seaweed!
FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars) Page 13
