Out of Place

  “Miriam,” not-so-huggy Grandma Sky began when I was done. “That was very careless of you to get caught up in those fishing nets.”

  I’ve been here before and I knew what was coming. Sometimes, when Mom and Dad are really mad at me, it can take hours for them to finish telling me what a jerk I am. Shrinking down into the pillows in an agony of misery, I prayed for short and sweet.

  “Outsea dwellers cannot be trusted the way sea people can,” Grandma Sky said, angry, maybe at the fur people, but probably at me. “You were lucky to get away unharmed.” Meanwhile, I’m thinking, but not saying; Oh! So I guess that means that this Zazkal is not a real sea person.

  “In spite of your difficulties,” Grandpa Sky contributed, “it seems to me that you had plenty of opportunities to call your parents. Plus, I still can’t believe you hung onto that boat when the storm came,” he added.

  “Even worse foolishness.” Grandma acknowledged. “Nevertheless, Miriam, you had lots of time to call Rose and Ben while you were alone on the boat, but Miriam, why didn’t you at least call your parents this morning after Stanley and Oliver found you. Did you actually forget?”

  “I didn’t. I didn’t forget. I called right after Stanley and Oliver came, well, almost right away, but I was too far from home. My phone was out of range.”

  “You’re not like your mother, are you?” Grandma said dryly. “Why didn’t you just take out a long-distance cell phone?”

  “I didn’t realize there was such a thing.”

  “There is in there.” She pointed to my sampo. “You have a lot to learn about using that bag, Miriam. Zazkal was right about one thing. He would have made a lot better use of your sampo than you will.”

  CHAPTER 18

  VERONA CORONA

  “Well, what’s done is done,” Grandma said. “Let’s go back into the Great Hall. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

  “We were never mad, Miriam,” Grandma said. She was supposed to look surprised when she said that, but she didn’t. She still looked mad to me.

  “What we are is disappointed. You may not realize it but we’re considerably more than fond of you. We’ve waited a long time to get to know you and your visit means as much to us as it does to you.”

  As an expert speaker of parentese, I automatically did my usual instantaneous translation.

  We were never mad. We were disappointed. Translation: They’re mad.

  We are more than fond of you. Translation: Adult who is unable to say, I love you.

  We have waited a long time. Your visit means a lot. Translation: We have feelings too, you snotty-nosed brat.

  “Miriam,” Grandma Sky said, an edge of excitement coming into her voice. “Come out and meet your new sister.” Grandpa gave her a sideways look.

  “Now, Flora...”

  “A sister? I have a sister?” I was flabbergasted.

  Meanwhile, Grandpa Sky actually put his arm around me.

  “Wait and see,” he said gently, looking over my shoulder and giving Grandma a dirty look.

  “Come on, Miriam,” Grandma Sky said brightly. “Let’s go find her.” I followed them out to the big hall, making fidgety little flutters with my tail fin. Nervous, excited, afraid to ask, I said nothing.

  “Wait here with Grandpa,” Grandma Sky said. “I’ll get someone to find Verona.” She disappeared through yet another curtained entry in the outer room. Grandpa Sky and I took our time swimming over to the vacant pillows in the middle of the now empty main hall. My guess was that I wasn’t the only person who didn’t want to be around when Grandma Sky was mad. She was back, almost before we settled down.

  “Verona’s on her way,”

  “What about Zazkal?” Grandpa Sky said. “We can’t let him eel his way out, this time.”

  “Eel?” I interrupted.

  “Eel! Long skinny fish,” Grandma Sky said curtly. “Very slippery. I saw Agatha,” she said, speaking to Grandpa now. “She’s going to arrange a summoning spell.”

  “It will take the entire council to make it strong enough for that Sky,” he commented dryly.

  “That’s exactly what she’s planning to do. Look! Here’s Verona.” Grandma Sky was smiling now. A big happy smile that lit up her whole face.

  Verona had red hair like Grandma’s that she wore in a long braid that came almost to her waist. She was bigger than me, but smaller than Grandma and Grandpa. Exactly big sister size.

  Her tail was a perfect complement to her whiter-than-white skin, rosy cheeks and rosy lips. It was a beautiful shade of pale aqua, with a scattering of scales in a deeper shade. Verona was the first polka-dotted Sky I had seen.

  She held something out in front of her as she swam. When she got close enough, I saw that she had two small-lidded yellow bowls, one in each hand.

  “Verona, dear, do you have everything?

  “Yes, Aunt Floradora. I brought ambrosia-soaked seafruit and salted kelp seeds.”

  “Perfect,” Grandma Sky said, still beaming. “Miriam, this is your cousin, Verona Corona. She has agreed to become your salt sister.”

  Of course! I thought, finally understanding. She couldn’t possibly be my real sister. I am so dumb. Verona must have seen the disappointment on my face. She wrinkled up her nose and gave me a look.

  “I don’t know what it’s like for you drylanders,” she said haughtily, “but around here, a salt sister is equal to any birth sister. More equal. It’s not just for life, it’s forever. Our children will be just as bound as we are, and so will their children and their children...” I was impressed, but not enough to want to find out exactly how many generations this sister thing was going to last.

  “Does this happen a lot?” I asked, interrupting the stream of children.

  “Of course not. It’s too important,” Verona answered. She didn’t say so, but her supercilious expression was clear. Like, how could I possibly not have known something so obvious? I was embarrassed.

  “There are no other firstgen salt siblings in our community,” Verona added, “but there are a number of salts.”

  “She means people with salt siblings in their ancestry,” Grandpa Sky explained.

  “We can do the ceremony whenever you’re both ready,” Grandma Sky said.

  “I’m ready,” I said eagerly. As usual, my mouth was way ahead of my brain. “Uhh, wait a minute. Does it hurt?” I was wondering if salt sisters were anything like blood brothers. I was pretty sure that blood brothers involved knives and a certain amount of pain.

  I got a “tsk” and some eye rolling from Verona.

  “No, honey, it doesn’t hurt,” Grandpa Sky said. “It’s just an exchange of vows. But, maybe you two would like to get to know each other a little better before you go ahead with the salt-ceremony.”

  “I can’t see any point in waiting,” Verona said. “We might as well get it over with.” I can be a little slow sometimes, but I finally started to notice that maybe this Verona wasn’t going to be the big sister of my dreams.

  “Well, maybe,” I said slowly, “maybe Grandpa is right. I could wait.” Then I saw Grandma Sky’s face. In less than a nanosecond, her expression went from absolute happiness to utter misery.

  I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Talk about looks could kill, it was like she had stabbed me right through the heart with her sadness.

  I hardly knew Grandma Sky. Also, I was pretty sure that she was not exactly thrilled with who I was, but all of a sudden, I couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

  “I guess I’m ready if you are, Verona,” I said. Grandma was smiling again. It was worth it...I think.

  CHAPTER 19

  SALT SISTERS

  “Mele’, will you put up a privacy barrier for us?” Grandma Sky said.”

  “Certainly, dear.”

  Grandpa Sky didn’t seem to do anything special, but all of a sudden, the entire building disappeared. We were still floating just above the big pillow-pile that used to be in
the Great Hall, only now the water was filled with lots of nothing as far as I could see.

  “Hey! Where’s the castle?”

  “Oh, it’s still there,” Grandpa Sky said. “The barrier is real. No one can get within ten feet of us, but the rest is just illusion. We think we can’t see or hear anyone outside the barrier, and they think they can’t see or hear us.” I nodded my understanding, even though I didn’t.

  “Flora, do you have the contract?”

  “Right here dear,” she answered.

  I have no idea where they came from, but Grandma Sky was now holding something that looked like a pair of stuck together rolling pins. She separated the cylinders, unrolling a sheet of plasticy paper.

  “Ooo, Aunt Floradora. It’s so pretty,” Verona cooed. “I just love all the little fish in the border.”

  I politely refrained from saying that the paper was blank, that the Emperor had no clothes, and what the hell were they looking at, anyway?

  Unfortunately, I have never been very good at hiding my feelings. Mom used to holler at me before I even spoke. She just had to look at me to know exactly what I was thinking, and, I’m sorry to say, so does the rest of the world, including Verona.

  Verona turned her back to me and stage-whispered, so that I couldn’t possibly miss a syllable. She used that fake shocked voice that makes my skin crawl.

  “Uncle Melvin, Aunt Floradora. She’s illiterate. She can’t even write her name.”

  “Maybe you could teach Miriam to read and write,” Grandpa Sky said, tossing an affectionate smile in my direction. “It would be a very sisterly thing to do.”

  “I suppose I could do that,” Verona said, offering me a not-affectionate, but clearly fake smile.

  After we’re sisters, Verona won’t be like this, I thought. She’ll feel differently when she has a real little sister. I bet she’s just nervous, like I am.

  “I thought you could both do handprints instead of signatures,” Grandma said. “Anyone can do it and it looks pretty.”

  “This is more of a ritual document than a real contract,” Grandpa told me. “It repeats in writing the vows that you two will be saying to each other. The ceremony is simple and private. The celebration afterwards, however, is not.”

  “Not simple, or not private?”

  “Neither, Grandma Sky said. “Tonight in the Great Hall...” she waved her arm to indicate the space around us, and all of a sudden we were back where we started in the Great Hall of Casalot. Neat trick. “...tonight, there will be so many people, this place will seem small.”

  “A party?”

  “A party,” she confirmed, happily. “A big one.” Grandpa nodded his head and Casalot was gone again.

  “Verona, you start,” he said. “Miriam, all you have to do is copy Verona and eat whatever she gives you.”

  Verona handed me one of the yellow bowls. She took the lid off the other one and tucked it underneath. So did I.

  Verona closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and looked into mine. So did I.

  Her eyes were dark, dark blue. Almost black, but not. She was serious now, not smiling, not snarling. Reaching into her bowl, she gave me something about the size of an apricot, only deep purple, like the big concord grapes at the supermarket. Not my favorite kind.

  I took a bite, anyway. Hey, I can be reckless when I want to. Breaking the skin when I bit into the fruit, released its scent into the water. I smelled the heady fragrance before the juice had a chance to reach my taste buds. It smelled like summer and it tasted like honey.

  Not the plastic-honeybear honey I put on my pancakes at home. This was grass honey and rose honey and hummingbird honey and bright warm sunshine honey. This was summer honey, my new favorite food. It was gone in two bites. I looked up at Verona, a happy grin on my face.

  “I give you honey,” she said, flashing me a crooked smile, “to add sweetness to your life.” There was a purple fruit in my bowl too. I gave it to Verona and she ate it, never taking her eyes off me, back to serious again.

  “I give you honey to sweeten your life,” I repeated, looking into her blue-black eyes. Great eyes. Exactly the right color for a big sister.

  “Verona finished her fruit, reached back into her bowl and handed me something roughly the size and shape of an almond. Fearless, as ever, I put the whole thing in my mouth and crunched.

  There was a hardly-there nutty taste, but mostly it was tart and salty like a pickled cucumber. A good pickle. A fine pickle, but not the flavor I wanted to have lingering in my mouth.

  I would have to see if I could get more summer-fruit out of my sampo. Pickles, too. Dad will adore them. I can see him now, standing at the kitchen sink eating pickle-nut after pickle-nut, chewing slowly, analyzing the different flavor notes, while Mom and I sit at the kitchen table stuffing ourselves with summer-fruit. The ache in my chest told me how much I missed them.

  “I give you salt to sustain you,” Verona said.

  I almost missed it. I unglazed my eyes and looked in my bowl. Another pickle-nut lay in the bottom. I handed it to Verona and watched her slowly chew and swallow.

  “I give you salt to sustain you,” I said.

  “Know that you are a sister to me,” Verona said. “I will bring sweetness to your life and I will sustain you in times of trouble.” There was nothing else to eat and Verona seemed to be finished talking, so I went straight to the speaking part.

  “Know that you are a sister to me,” I repeated. “I will bring sweetness to your life and I will sustain you in times of trouble.”

  I waited for someone to pronounce us sister and sister, but that was it. Grandma and Grandpa Sky gave us hugs and kisses, and even Verona was smiling shyly. It had all been easy, no big deal, but I had a feeling that Verona had just done something very hard.

  We each put our hand on the contract. Just for a moment, I saw the pale outline of my hand as I lifted it from the paper. I blinked, and then it was gone.

  CHAPTER 20

  POWER PEBBLES

  “Verona, take Miriam and show her around.”

  “Yes, Aunt Floradora.” Verona sighed, chin up, eyes averted

  I watched her forehead wrinkle as she pushed her eyebrows up into the appropriate position. Oh, pleeese, I thought, not the fate worse than death thing.

  “Come on, Miriam,” she snapped, giving me a dirty look. “I don’t have a lot of time. I have to get ready for the party.”

  “Miriam!” Grandma Sky called after us in that strict teacher voice that makes me want to find a window to stare out of. “I expect you to behave. No more disappearing acts, please.”

  I followed meekly behind Verona on what I suspected was going to be a whirlwind tour of the castle.

  It was.

  First, she took me through a floor-door for the briefest of peeks into a room that was almost as big around as the Great Hall, but only about three people high. High enough, but nothing like the Great Hall.

  There were tall tables all over the floor and people everywhere, most of them Sky, but a lot of sea sprites, some salt-water pixies and a scattering of various combinations of fish and fairy that I would have loved to learn more about.

  The walls were covered with floor-to-ceiling shelves. Netting across the front kept things from floating around. Wall-doors led into more rooms with more shelves. Every space on every shelf was jammed with boxes, bags, jars and bottles. There were bottles so small, they could have come from a toy tea set, and jars that were big enough to hold one of Ali Baba’s forty thieves.

  “This is the main kitchen,” Verona said. “The rest of the kitchen column is that way.” She waved an arm toward the ceiling on the other side of the room. “They’re busy getting ready for tonight. You can look around some other time. Let’s go.”

  “Would it be okay if I called my parents?”

  “We don’t have time. You can do it when we finish. Come on. Hurry up. There’s a lot to see.

  “These are the sleeping columns,” sh
e said nodding towards a series of curtained window-doors, as we emerged from the giant kitchen. “They’re private. Let’s go. Over that way are...”

  Eventually, I figured out that a castle column was the same thing as a wing of a house, only the rooms were up and down instead of side by side. During the next ten minutes, I learned that in addition to the sleeping column, there were dining columns, official meeting room columns, casual meeting room columns, lounging room columns, library and study columns, classroom columns and columns of workrooms, including art and music studios. There was also a one-room-wide column of smaller kitchens, linked at the bottom to the main kitchen.

  I now knew what there was, but where it was, was another question. I just hoped nobody expected me to actually find my way around this place.

  “Say, Verona, how do these things work,” I asked, shouldering my way through a thick cluster of fairy lights.

  “Hmmpf. Simple,” she answered. You can do this...” She put out a finger and jabbed at one of the lights. It bounced away and drifted towards another smaller cluster of lights. “...or you can do this.” This time Verona moved her finger slowly. The light stayed put and her finger went through the surface, which didn’t break, but closed around her finger.

  “Cool. Can I do that?”

  “I have to go. You can play with the lights if you want.”

  “Uh, are there any rules or special things I should know about when I meet people?”

  “Yes, don’t act like a jerk,” she said, took one look at me and my open-book face and turned bright red.

  “Regardless of what you’re thinking,” Verona said breathing ice water in my direction, “my manners are considered to be impeccable.”

  Meanwhile, I’m thinking, I should probably learn how to play poker, or statues, or something, anything that teaches me how to display zero expression.

  Verona started to swim off.

  “Wait! Where am I supposed to go?”

  “Oh, someone will find you eventually. Don’t worry,” she said as she disappeared through a floor door.

  I was on my own. Just me and the fairy lights.

  I ran my hands all around one, looking for strings. Nope. No strings. Next, I wrapped my arms around the nearest light, swam to the other side of the room and let go. Sure enough, it bobbed gently back to hang with its friends.