firing him and all that.”
Mom shakes her head. “That’s not what Father told us.”
“One of them is lying,” I say. “He wouldn’t leave a cushy gig on
Toliss for a house that’s falling apart, would he?”
Side by side, Kurt and my mother are mirror images, each with one
hand examining the face of a long-gone sea king and the other tugging
on the tip of their chin. They even say, “I suppose,” at the same
time.
“He said he taught the king’s daughters.” I wave my hands in the
air to get their attention back. “So you’re one of the king’s
daughters and Kurt doesn’t know how to read these symbols.”
“It’s not that I don’t know how to read them. It’s that I never
learned.”
“Mmm. Hmm. Which means you don’t know how to read them.”
“Enough!” Mom puts her hands up between us. “Kurt, you wouldn’t
know how to read this. This is the language of the gods. Only the
oracles can translate it. Greg wanted us to learn, but after a few
years Father changed his mind and forbade it.”
“The king forbids his kids to get all bilingual and has a
disagreement with Gregorious, who ends up fired. Sounds like Grandpa
was hiding something.”
“Don’t say that,” Mom whispers.
“Sorry. It sounds shady, that’s all.”
Kurt takes the paper once again, trying hard to see words in the
symbols, but it’s like all those times I tried to fake my way through
Spanish. “Mom?” She looks unsteady and I reach a hand to hold her.
“I think this word is ‘death.’ Yes, I remember because we were
trying to translate the prophecy of the hero Milanos, destined to die
at the hands of a sea prince during the age of the Greeks. I wonder-”
“Death never sounds good,” I mutter.
I flip the crumbling paper over and smooth it out. “What’s this
bit right here? 1907?”
Mom looks to Kurt. “You were born that year. I remember because I
was in the room with the midwife, and my sister Avelia kept saying
there was a rainbow over the human island in the distance and it was a
good omen for you.”
“That’s all awesome and kind of weird, but how do we find someone
who would know about this?” I feel like I’m chasing my own tail again.
Mom places a hand over the face of King Ellanos. She gasps, pain
spreading all over her face. Her hands fly to her stomach. She’s going
to be sick. I can see it in the green flush of her face. She breathes
deep and long.
I get up. “Are you okay?”
“Lady Maia, perhaps you should sit.”
“I haven’t felt this terrible since-” Her big blue eyes scan my
face, and before she can finish, she runs to her bathroom. We can hear
the puking all the way out here.
Dad stands at the kitchen entrance.
“Should I go to the pharmacy?” I start to run to the bathroom and
stop. “Should I bring her water?” I run back to the kitchen and fumble
trying to get a glass and the pitcher of purified water from the
fridge.
Sure, when it comes to fires and evil merpeople, I can be
concentration guy, but put me in front of a girl crying or puking, and
I don’t know the difference between my ass and my elbow.
Dad shakes his head. He’s part worried, part nervous, and the
combination smells acrid. And that’s coming from a guy who showers
three times a day in the summer. “There’s no easy way to say this, so
here goes.”
“Dad? Spit it out. You’re freaking me-”
He fist-pumps the air. “Your mom’s pregnant.”
I get a broom for the broken glass on the floor. When Kurt tries
to help me, I shoo him away and he sits next to my dad at the kitchen
counter, watching.
“I didn’t mean to tell you this way,” Dad says. “We were going to
wait. Maybe ’til after this championship stuff. We didn’t want you to
worry.”
“Why? Why would I be worried, I mean.”
The acrid smell of nervousness is replaced by the smoky sweetness
of excitement. It’s what I felt when I set fire to the roof. I tie the
garbage bag in a knot and pass a mop over the floor. This is the most
I’ve ever cleaned. Look at me being a grown-up.
“I believe congratulations are in order?” Captain Awkward says.
“And much merriment,” Dad says in a mock-Kurt voice. Dad goes to
the fridge and gets three light beers. “I know these go right to your
head because of your bodily water ratio, but hell.”
Together, the three of us pop the lids of our beer cans.
Dad and Kurt start talking about names and hoping it’s a girl
because Maia wants a girl, and I just sit here giving him a thumbs-up
while still trying to drink this thing.
Not only is it incredibly gross to picture my parents still doing
it, but I’m sixteen. Most people who want to have more kids usually
pop them out all at once, right? Angelo’s one of seven, and that’s not
counting the kids his dad has from his first marriage. Come to think
of it, Layla’s one of the few friends I have who’s an only child.
If I’m Sea King, how am I supposed to be someone’s older brother?
I’d want to teach him how to swim, how to play ball. Tell him about
the first time I shifted. Wait, Mom wants a girl, so I’d have to be
around and chase guys away from her. I’d have to make sure she’d
always be protected. Wait a minute. What if the baby isn’t half merkin
after all? What if they get to have a no-complications, fully human
life?
I’m on autopilot, getting more beers from the fridge. Kurt just
says yes to being the unborn baby’s godfather. We’re not even
Catholic. How come I don’t have godparents?
“When my boy here becomes Sea King, we’ll use his college money as
a down payment on a house.”
“Wait, we’re moving ?”
I hate that I’ve put such a hurt look on my dad’s face. He says,
“Too much too soon? I knew we shouldn’t have said anything. We weren’t
planning it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Ew, Dad. You don’t need my permission. I mean, you guys should
get the chance to raise a normal kid and a normal family that doesn’t
involve a freak son and his new life under the sea.”
My own hurt is twisting into my chest like screws. I can’t believe
how selfish I sound. Here is my dad really happy, and I’m taking it
away from him. So I put on my best smile and give another thumbs-up,
even though this is somehow worse than Archer kicking me in the gut.
Dad slings his arm around my shoulder. “There is nothing more
wonderful than having you as a son. We didn’t even think we could have
another baby until it happened.”
“No, totally.” My face hurts from smiling. “This is awesome.”
“This isn’t about getting another shot,” he says. “You have to
know that.”
“I do. Don’t worry about me.”
At some point, the sun starts setting, and Dad goes and checks on
Mom. I clink Kurt’s beer and Thalia walks in. Her hair is damp and she
smells strangely of pizza.
“Where have you been?” Kurt’s voice is a boom, but it has to do
with the beer and not anger. He scoops her up in a bone-crushing hug.
Thalia is too stunned to even push him away. “I was hungry.”
But her cattish green eyes find mine and I know she’s lying. I
shake my head once, wishing I could tell her we saw her on the
boardwalk.
“You were with those people,” Kurt says. “I saw you.”
Thalia’s eyes go wide. She takes the drink from her brother and
sets it on the table. “Is this a celebration? Did things go well with
Sarabell?”
I hold up my hand to show her teeth marks but my heart jumps. The
teeth marks are gone except for the pearly shadow of her canines to