“For now,” Thalia says. “Can you imagine a thousand Archers?”
I remember flashes of the silver mermaid slithering in my dreams.
“She’s not strong enough for that.”
“Didn’t want to fight, for such a shit talker,” Layla says.
“He was scouting us.” I crunch down on a handful of seaweed chips.
“Now he can go back and tell Nieve. They’ll come back stronger, and we
have to be prepared for their next move.”
“Especially since both of you came back empty-handed from your
visits to the oracle,” Gwen says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Charming as always, Lady Gwenivere,” Brendan says. He offers her
a lily-flower cigarette, and suddenly he’s her new favorite person.
“No, it’s fine.” I take the cup Blue leaves for me. It’s his own
brew of tea because he notices I rarely touch the sea mead. The
bittersweet liquid warms my insides. “She didn’t have a piece of the
trident anyway.”
Kurt’s shoulders sag sheepishly. “That’s my fault. I was so sure-”
“We can’t go back and change it. The thing is, we’re alive and
from here on, we work our way to the next game plan.”
“You sound like Coach Bellini.” Layla leans her shoulder closer to
mine. “Minus the swearing.”
“Listen,” Brendan says, throwing the latest butt into the
crackling fire. The tiny thing is so potent that it floods us with its
scent instantly. “You are more than welcome to tag along with my ship.
We’re heading down and south. Galapagos. Lovely place. Lots of strange
things hidden.”
Layla smiles. “My dad is from there.”
“See? All the more reason to come with me. My ship is full of
boring people, and you have proven to be quite fun.”
For a moment, I wonder if I could do it. Stop right now and take
my scepter on an adventure with my new cousin. We could discover new
worlds or just party on his boat. Would Nieve keep searching for me?
What would my mom think? What would become of the court? Only for a
moment.
“Brendan,” Kurt says in his awkward cordial way. “If I may ask, if
you don’t search for the oracles, what do you seek to find?’
Brendan’s blue eyes shine with excitement. “One of the princesses
claims she knows the location of the City of Clouds, full of winged
people. I needed a map from the cathedral at the cove.”
“Aren’t you worried about what happens to our people?” Thalia
asks.
Her words remind me of the nautilus maid. Our blood promise
lingers on my tongue.
“You mistake me for a leader, lovely Thalia.” Brendan’s charm is
contagious. I think I have a dude crush on him. He reminds me of me
before the storm. “Now Adaro, there’s your challenge. He’s got more
men on his ship than me, you, and Dylan combined. The princesses,
that’s your own personal map to the next oracle.”
“What do you mean?” Kurt asks.
“Alone, Tristan has nothing. He can swim all the seas and still
not find anything. The princesses are resources, like a map of the
seas laid out for you. You simply have to coax information out of
them.”
I cough loudly into my fist. “There has been zero coaxing here.”
But I have to admit, without Gwen there to help me find Shelly,
I’d still be in Coney Island waters chasing my tail.
“Also,” Brendan smirks, “if you don’t pay attention to them,
they’re likely to decimate your village and drown all the men.”
“What?” I choke on my tea.
“No king.” My cousin shrugs. “No rules.”
“He’s right,” Gwen says. “I can think of three, maybe four of them
with powerful families.”
“Good thing Gwen’s here,” Layla says. “You have your own personal
matchmaker.”
I chew on my food extra long so as not to go near that statement.
When I swallow, my throat is dry. “All roads lead back to Coney
Island.”
“Are you sure?” Brendan holds his hands out to the fire and rubs
them. “My offer stands.”
I stare at my friends for a moment. Would it be easier on all of
them if I quit? Would I still have to kill the nautilus maid? Can I go
back home and try to pick up my life the way it used to be?
“Or you could come with us.” I don’t know why I say it, but once
it’s out I’m hoping he’ll say yes. “It would be nice to have family
around.”
Brendan smiles. I can see the indecision in his hesitation. South,
he can explore his dreams. North, with me, he would face more of this,
more of Archer, and I’m bummed when he says, “Maybe next time.”
After Brendan says his good-byes to the others, he pulls me into
another man-hug. He balances on the ledge and bows properly. “May the
seas bend to your journey.”
Then he dives, shifting in the air, a metallic blue ripple sliding
into the wave that is taking us back home.
A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.
- W.B. Yeats, from “A Man Young and Old”
Coming home isn’t what I thought it’d be like.
It’s not a parade of balloons and trumpets and flash photographers
documenting my success. Because, right now, I’m empty-handed, and
Coney Island is just as it was when we left. Luna Park is even lit up
with thousands of flashing lights while the rest of the boardwalk
sleeps.
The digital clock on the Cyclone stadium billboard reads 3:33 a.m.
Still Monday before sunrise. The barrel of wind propelled us north
with so much force that at one point the ship was flying over the
surface of the water.
After saying our good-byes to Arion and the urchins, I take a
moment to breathe in the hot summer night. No matter what gum, dirt,
or dog piss is lingering from the day’s tread marks, I press my
forehead on the ground.
“That’s disgusting,” Gwen says. “No one will ever kiss you with
those lips.”
Layla snorts, still waving at Arion’s retreating ship. “His lips
have been worse places.”
“As much as I’ve enjoyed time with you…” Gwen tugs on the same
clothes she’s been wearing for three whole days and grimaces. “I’m
going to sleep somewhere decent that doesn’t smell of mead and
urchin.”
“Come on, Gwen,” I urge. “You don’t want to go on the carousel?”
“The wooden horses with the manic eyes and open mouths as if
they’re frozen in terror? Thank you, but I’d much rather take a ride
on our Shark Guard.” She waves halfheartedly. “I will find you when
the sun comes up.”
I wonder out loud, “Where does she go?”
“The princesses have their own land-stay,” Kurt says. “It’s
irritatingly pink.”
“How would you know?” I ask.
He frowns. “I’ve delivered messages there. That’s why.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Enough, you two,” Thalia says. She points at the lit-up rides of
Luna Park. “Is that normal?”
“What’s normal?” Layla shrugs.
“The rides?” I point. “Maybe it’s a new summer thing they’re
trying. Usually they’re shut down at ten p.m.”
“What are you talking about?” Layla stares down at the boardwalk.
“I just see creaky old rides.”
A group of kids brown-bagging bottles walk toward us. I wave them
down. “Hey, yo. What’s going on at the park tonight?”
One of them, with a Mets baseball cap and an angry scowl, turns to
where I’m pointing. Then back to me. He laughs. “You’re tripping, man.
I want whatever you’re on.”
They collapse in tipsy laughter and brush past us.
“Come on.” I take Layla’s hand, stomping down the boardwalk. It’s