Just for Fins
“Forgive the intrusion, Princess,” she says, keeping her eyes averted, “but—”
“We made her do it,” another—familiar—voice calls out.
I lift my head and see Peri and Quince in the doorway.
“Look what I found in the palace kitchen,” Peri says, nodding at Quince. “I’m amazed there’s any food left in the kingdom after the way he was devouring Laver’s culinary concoctions as fast as the cook could make them.”
I smile at the pair of them.
“I need the nourishment,” Quince says in his defense, patting his stomach. “Do you know how many calories it takes to swim here?”
I turn to the maid, who looks like she’s trying to make herself as invisible as possible in the corner of my room. I’ve never seen her before. “What’s your name?”
“Bailya, Princess.”
“Well, Bailya,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile, “thank you for waking me. I am always available to these two.”
I get a beaming smile in return. “Will there be anything else, Princess?”
“No, thank you,” I say. “Please go on about your day.”
With a grateful nod, Bailya darts across the room, around my two visitors, and out into the hall.
“Give me five seconds,” I say, pushing back my covers and heading across the room. “I need to freshen up.”
“How was last night?” Peri shouts to be heard inside my bathroom. “Did you tell the king about Aurita’s claim?”
“Yes,” I say as I grab a cloth from the shelf beneath the counter. “And you know what?”
“What?” she asks.
“He doesn’t believe her,” I reply. “He doesn’t believe me.”
I scrub the cloth over my face, and the action both relaxes and energizes me. I do the same at key spots—under my arms, base of my neck—and then reach for the toothpaste.
“Peri, can you bring me a clean tank?” I ask. “They’re in the—”
“I know where your clothes are,” she says before I can finish.
Seconds later, she’s handing me a turquoise tank. She whispers, “I heard Quince had trouble with the first test. Did it turn out okay?”
I nod. I dart behind the changing curtain. “The swim from Seaview to Thalassinia nearly killed him.” Stripping off my dirty tank, I open the lid on the laundry hamper and drop it inside. “I don’t know how he will manage two more.”
As I swim out from behind the curtain, sporting the turquoise tank, Peri grins. “He will. Because he loves you, and that’s the point.”
“Are you two gabbing in there?” Quince shouts. “I’m starving.”
“You just ate half the pantry,” Peri shouts back. She winks at me before adding, “Save some food for the rest of the kingdom.”
We swim out into my room.
“Actually, I’m starving too,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “If there’s any food left to eat, that is.”
“Ha ha.” Quince throws an arm around my shoulder as I swim by, pretending like he’s going to throttle me but then changing his mind at the last second and kissing me instead.
“I thought you two were hungry. But if I’m wrong,” Peri says, swimming ahead, “I’ll just go ahead and eat your share.”
Quince laughs at Peri’s teasing. As he takes my hand and swims after her, I’m impressed. His swimming has improved a lot, and he’s actually pulling me with him. I start kicking, just to get us moving faster, and can’t help but smile.
I’m glad to see Peri and Quince getting along so well. I mean, it’s not like they’re going to be spending tons of time together—he may be able to breathe underwater, but he’s still human—but it’s nice to know my best friend and my boyfriend can hang out and have fun.
When we swim into the kitchen, I swear Laver looks at Quince and starts shaking. But he’s a trouper and just orders his sous-chef to pull another order from the pantry.
Quince, Peri, and I sink onto stools at the kitchen counter and wait for breakfast.
“I’m not surprised the king doubts Aurita,” Peri says, grabbing us each a glass of orange-juice gelatin from a tray on the counter. She spoons out a bite and lifts it to her mouth. “She’s got kind of a reputation for stirring up controversy.”
As she swallows her bite and Quince takes one of his own, I swirl my spoon through the gelatin. “So I’ve heard,” I say. “But you saw how scared she was. You saw her hands shaking and her eyes sparkling.”
“Maybe she’s a really good actress,” Peri suggests.
“What are you two talking about?” Quince asks, looking up from his juice.
“When we were in Desfleurelle,” I explain, “the mer kingdom in the Gulf of Mexico, we learned about a plan to sabotage human enterprises.”
Quince frowns. “Like what?” he asks.
“Like sabotaging offshore oil rigs.”
Quince whistles—pretty impressive under water. “That’s dangerous.”
“I know. But Daddy doesn’t believe me.” I shove my gelatin away. “Because of the source.”
“So he’s not going to do anything?” Quince asks.
“No, he is,” I reply. “He’s going to visit King Zostero to ask him about the rumor.”
Laver sets a tray of gourmet breakfast sushi in front of us, and Quince quickly stabs at an awabi roll with his seasticks. The jab comes a little too close for Laver’s comfort, and he jerks his hand away before it winds up skewered.
“And then what?” Quince asks before popping the sushi into his mouth and, I swear, swallowing it whole.
I shrug, making my own selection from the tray. “Then we wait and see. He’s going to send me a message as soon as he has an answer.”
“King Whelk will do the right thing,” Peri says, obviously sensing my divided emotions. “He will find out what’s going on and will act accordingly.”
“I know,” I say. “I trust Daddy.”
I’m just not sure if I trust him more than my own instincts. Everything inside me screams that Aurita isn’t lying. Aunt Rachel always says I should trust my gut, and my gut is telling me that King Zostero is planning something.
“We’ll see what Daddy finds out,” I say, mostly to Quince. “Then I’ll decide what to do.”
“Um, Princess?”
I turn at the sound of a quiet voice, half expecting to see another timid palace maid.
I nearly drift off my stool when I see Astria floating there, with a respectful look on her face, and the lower half of her red hair dyed the same mint-green shade as her tailfin. I bite back a smile. Peri chokes on a laugh. Quince goes back to his second breakfast.
“Excuse the interruption,” Astria says, flicking her gaze at Peri and Quince, “but may I speak to you in private?”
I’m so stunned by her seemingly genuine respect—that’s a first—that I can’t answer.
Peri responds for me.
“Anything you have to say to Lily,” she says, her amusement at Astria’s hair now forgotten, “you can say in front of us.”
I lean back instinctively, braced for Astria’s wrath. She does not like to be put in her place.
So when she merely takes a breath and says, “Please, it will only take a moment,” I’m stunned.
“Um, sure,” I say, giving Peri a wide-eyed what-the-frog-is-going-on-here? look.
Peri shrugs. Yeah, I don’t have a clue either.
Equally curious and afraid this is some sort of humiliation master plot, I follow Astria into the hall outside the kitchen. When she turns to face me, she can’t look me in the eye. I’m starting to lean more toward the master-plot option.
“What you said to me the other night,” she begins, “about the problems in our world and the pettiness of gossip . . .”
Oh no, she’s going to totally light into me. I tense, ready to flee.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, and . . .”
I float back a few inches.
“You’re right.”
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I stop kicking and just stare at her.
“What?” I ask as my momentum knocks me into the wall. I push away, floating back to Astria. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re right,” she says. “There are things happening in our world, and I want to help.”
I think my brain just imploded a little. First Doe stops being a wicked brat, and now Astria wants to help. Surely these are signs of a looming apocalypse.
“Um, okay?” I half say, half ask. I feel so off-kilter, I don’t even know which one I’m doing.
“If you need anything,” she says, finally looking me in the eye, “anything at all, just ask.”
She floats forward and presses a slip of kelpaper into my palm.
“This is my address. Send a gull or a message bubble anytime, and I will do whatever I can to help your efforts.”
I think I nod. Or maybe I just stare, slack-jawed, as she turns and swims away. I don’t think my brain can process what happened.
When I swim back into the kitchen, Laver is setting out another tray of food for Quince. Peri looks up, relieved.
“What did she want?”
“I . . .” I shake my head as I float back onto my stool. “She wants to help.”
“She what?” Peri asks.
“Really?” Quince mumbles around a bite of sea-fan toast.
“Yeah,” I say. “She . . . I guess she finally realized there’s something bigger at stake than making other people feel bad.”
Peri scowls. “I still don’t trust her.”
I shrug. I don’t know, maybe I’m the worst judge of character in history, but I think she was being sincere. As we all go back to eating our breakfast—Quince is on his third or fourth, at least—my mind is racing through everything that happened this weekend. Quince’s test. My royal visits. The sabotage plans. And now Daddy’s investigation of Aurita’s claim.
I want to figure out what to do next, but the truth is I can’t decide anything until Daddy talks to King Zostero and sends me his message. Quince and I need to get back to Seaview and get on with our days.
The message will come in time.
Hopefully, answers will come with it.
Chapter 15
“It’s good to be a senior,” Brody says, leaning back against the picnic table.
“And a sophomore.” Doe pokes him in the ribs.
Brody grins at her. “But sophomores aren’t supposed to eat lunch outside. That’s a senior’s right.”
“It’s true,” Shannen says, carefully unwrapping her sandwich.
Doe sticks out her tongue. The old Doe would have huffed and stormed away, but the new Doe just smiles and peels her orange.
I take a bite of my apple and lean into Quince’s side.
We all agreed to bring our lunches today so we could ditch the cafeteria for a little time in the sun. I’m trying not to get tense every time a seagull flies by. Waiting for Daddy’s message is making me nuts. I’m sure it won’t come until at least after school, what with the time required for him to travel to Desfleurelle, speak with the king, and then send word to me.
Plus I’m still exhausted from all my swimming this weekend. Maybe I could catch a quick nap. I drop my head onto Quince’s shoulder, glad that he decided to ditch the leather jacket in the heat, because that means there’s only a thin layer of tee between him and me.
My eyes are closed and I’m just about to drift into dreamland when a loud voice says, “Hi, Brody.”
My shoulders tense.
“Hey, Court,” Brody says.
I sit up straight. Brody’s ex-girlfriend is not my favorite human on the planet. When I had a crush on Brody, she was pretty horrid to me. I brace myself for whatever she’s about to say.
To my utter shock, she turns and saunters over to the next picnic table and sits down with her friends. Is that going to be the end of it? She didn’t even say a word to Doe.
Then it happens.
“I mean, seriously.” Courtney’s voice floats over to our table. “Who carries a briefcase to high school?”
Every eye at our table locks onto Doe, whose briefcase is at her feet.
She meticulously peels the rest of her orange, pulls the segments apart, and sets them on her napkin. Gathering up the peel, she stands.
“I’ll be right back.”
We all watch as she walks over to the nearest trash can. I think I’m holding my breath as she drops the orange rind into the garbage and turns back around. She’s walking so casually, I think she’s going to let it go.
Then, right as she passes the other table, she stops and leans down to whisper in Courtney’s ear.
Courtney’s spine stiffens. She turns and gives Doe a confused look. Doe nods.
I wait for the return fire, for Courtney to throw out some terrible comment in response to whatever Doe just said.
Instead, she nods in return and then turns back to her lunch.
Quince, Shannen, and I exchange stunned looks. We’ve all seen the wraths of Doe and Courtney individually. I think we all expected there to be fireworks when they finally confronted each other. This was . . . kind of anticlimactic.
Doe walks back to our table and takes her seat. I don’t miss the fact that she reaches under the table to take Brody’s hand. I’m amazed by her transformation. Clearly, being with Brody has been good for her.
“What did you say to her?” Shannen asks.
Doe blinks innocently as she says, “I told her if she ever spoke to my boyfriend again, I would send the entire school a picture of her American Girl–themed bedroom.”
Brody shrugs. “I thought it was cute.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Doe finishes. “But I understand it is quite embarrassing.”
We all burst out laughing at Doe’s brilliant blackmail. Leave it to my cousin to figure out how to take on Courtney once and for all.
We finish our lunch in peace and sun worship until the bell rings.
As we are walking back inside, I hear the familiar squawk of a messenger gull. I glance in the direction of the sound and spot it sitting on a hibiscus bush outside a row of classroom windows.
“I’ll meet you inside,” I tell my friends as I drop and pretend to tie my shoelace. “Cover for me.”
Shannen nods and hurries inside. As soon as the doors close behind them and the picnic area is empty, I stand and walk over to the bush. After a quick peek into the window to make sure there isn’t a class inside, I approach the gull.
I do one more quick glance around and then reach forward. The gull holds up its foot to give me better access. I quickly untie the string securing the kelpaper to its leg and remove the scroll.
“Thank you.”
The bird screeches and then flaps its wings, soaring into the sky and toward the ocean.
“Lily?”
I jump at the sound of my name. Spinning, I see Miss Molina standing on the sidewalk near the door I was supposed to have walked through to return from lunch.
“Oh, hi,” I say, quickly shoving the kelpaper into the pocket of my shorts. “I was just, uh, looking at this hibiscus flower.” I reach for the nearest flower, a bright white bloom. “Isn’t it awesome?”
Miss Molina crosses the grass between us, and I think she’s going to inspect the flower. Instead, she asks, “Did you just take something off a seagull’s leg?”
My heart pounds like crazy. “Um, what? No, that’s—”
“I saw you.” She nods at the windows behind the bush. “That’s my classroom. I was at my desk and watched as you walked up to the bird, untied something from its leg, and took off a piece of paper.”
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Think, Lily, think. I have to come up with a believable explanation. One that doesn’t involve mindwashing Miss Molina, because this definitely isn’t a disastrous enough reason to give myself a migraine. Surely I can come up with—
“Is it a pet?” she asks. “I’ve heard that seagulls can be trained, but I always d
oubted their reliability.”
“Yes!” I practically shout, grateful for her giving me an answer. “My aunt Rachel trained him to bring me messages at school.” I pull the crumpled kelpaper out of my pocket and hold it up as evidence. “Isn’t that cool?”
“Very.” She turns her head in the direction the bird went, like she’s hoping to spot it in the sky. When she doesn’t, she turns back to me. “Very impressive.” Then, as if remembering that I’m a student and not in class, she says, “Shouldn’t you be somewhere?”
“Yes,” I say. “Art. Don’t want to be late.”
Miss Molina smiles as she says, “Then you’d better be on your way. The second bell is going to ring soon.”
I nod and start around her, heading for the door. I’m two steps onto the sidewalk when I turn back.
“Can I ask you something?”
She smiles and joins me on the sidewalk. “Of course.”
“So, you remember how I asked you about getting people involved in an organization?” I ask, twisting the kelpaper of Daddy’s scroll in my hands.
Miss Molina nods.
“Well, what if some of the people involved want to do things a different way?” I ask, trying to word this in the most generic, there’s-nothing-weird-about-me, I’m-not-a-mermaid way possible. “What if they want to do something I think is wrong? Or illegal?”
“That sounds very dangerous, Lily,” she says, her tone and her face equally serious. “Maybe those people should not be involved in your organization.”
Like that’s an option.
“What if they have to be?” I ask. “How do you convince people that what they’re doing is wrong?”
“You could go to the police,” she suggests.
I bite my lips so I don’t laugh. There is no such thing as police in the mer world, only royal guards and the judgment of kings and queens. And telling human police is so not an option.
“What if I can’t?” I ask, and from the confused and concerned look on her face, I can tell she’s starting to worry about me. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing and Daddy’s note says there’s no truth to Aurita’s claim. “I’ll figure it out,” I say, turning to leave, eager to get inside and read the message. “Thanks anyway.”