means until he flips the coin, revealing the engraving of a
split-tailed mermaid. The engraving is so precise that she even has
minuscule scales along her hips. I think of Kurt making the drawing of
the same mermaid that’s taped to our Command Central wall.
“That’s the oracle,” I say. “Adaro was right. There is another
oracle here.” Idiot , I tell myself. An oracle, right under my nose.
“I just threw the coins in my pocket and wrote Comit off as another
Coney Island crazy.”
“You guys.” Layla holds her hands out. “It could be coincidence.
Maybe this place just has a mermaid as its mascot.”
Frederik speeds out of the room and then returns with the same
coin. It has the number II stamp, but when he flips it over, the
picture is not of a mermaid but a sliver of the moon. “This is what
the coin normally looks like. Those are a message for you.”
I snatch the other coin from the table and say, “We have to go to
her before Adaro figures it out.”
I suit up in my sternum harness.
“What about tonight?” Thalia says. “What about when the merrows
come?”
“Sunset isn’t for a few hours,” Frederik reminds her. “This gives
us time to prepare the shore while Tristan finds his oracle. We should
reconvene at the aquarium. It is our emergency stronghold.”
And then Kurt and I are back out in the gray summer storm. The
wind is forceful, like hands pushing us, until we break into a run.
The door Comit showed me is simple and black with a II above it.
The psychic stand is lit neon pink and purple beside it, red velvet
curtains drawn to reveal the session going on. The psychic is my
English teacher, Ms. Pippen, and she’s holding an eager young woman’s
hand. When she sees me, she gives me the dirtiest stare, meant to make
me feel guilty for nearly kidnapping her last week.
The door isn’t locked and Kurt is the first one to push it open.
The entrance is pitch-black. I’ve closed my eyes to adjust to this new
lighting when a hand emerges from the dark and braces against my
chest. Two torches light either side of the entrance. The man steps
forward, dressed in a black suit and black tie. His hair is buzzed
close to his scalp with a design etched on either side of his head.
“Comit sent us,” I say.
He holds his hand out. “Entrance.”
We each give him a coin. He motions to the wall in front of us. It
opens in half to reveal a winding stairwell.
Beside me, Kurt has a possessed glimmer in his eyes. He takes the
steps two at a time, which is something he just wouldn’t do. He’s
usually all calm and collected in the face of danger. Who knows what
this oracle will ask for? Another promise? Maybe this one will ask for
a body part or a year’s subscription to Vogue .
“Slow down, Kurt. We don’t know what this actually leads to.” I
know something is wrong when I’m the voice of reason.
The stairwell coils around a dozen more times. When we hit the
last step, Comit is waiting for us. “Hope you aren’t too dizzy. It’s a
long way down.”
“No worse than tumbling away from a sea dragon,” I say.
Comit introduces himself to Kurt. They lock eyes, and instead of
shaking hands, they dip in tiny bows. Comit’s getup makes me feel
underdressed. His suit is pin-striped black and blue with a neat
golden handkerchief in his pocket. His bow tie is also gold, which
matches the chain trailing into his pocket where he pulls out a watch.
His fingernails are incredibly neat and painted black, gripping the
head of his walking stick.
“I thought you’d have found your way sooner.” He sharpens his
mustache into a finer point.
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Took me a little while to figure
it out. It was Kurt who noticed the mermaid on the other side of the
coin.”
“Must always look both ways.” Comit seems pleased with himself,
tapping his cane on the floor with a happy click . “Ah, Madame
Mercury, these are the gentlemen we were expecting.”
At the top of the double grand stairs is a lady dressed from
another decade. She’s saying good-bye to a man and a girl in a long
white gown. When the girl in white walks away, I notice the wings at
rest. As that couple walks slowly up the steps, another man comes
down. He’s also wearing a suit. His hair is disheveled and there are
fresh bites on either side of his neck. He nods only at Madame Mercury
and disappears the way we came in.
Madame Mercury turns to us. I think of Frederik saying, “Madame
Mercury’s not so bad,” and I can see what he means. Her corset is
crimson satin, pulled so tight at the center I could circle her waist
with my hands. Her skin is pale, except for the scarlet blush of her
cheeks. Her skirt is a long black trail that looks like rippling
water. Her movement is delicate, from the way she traces the air
around my face to the way she turns her black eyes and bats extremely
long eyelashes at Kurt.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“This is the Second Circle.” Madame Mercury looks at me from head
to toe. “A place where the heart’s deepest desires can come true.”
“Uh-huh. So who are you?”
She circles me, the diamond baubles on her ears dangling in her
scarlet hair. “Surely you’ve already guessed what I am. As to who I
am, Comit has already introduced us. Then there’s what I do, which is
collect, as Comit collects his creatures.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Follow me. I will show you.”
She turns gracefully on the polished dark wood floors and walks
down the hall to massive double doors carved intricately, patiently
until every detail was perfect. Even the brass handles are twisted and
etched just so. I wonder how much people pay to be down here. It’s not
just dripping with golden frames, lavish drapes, and tapestries that
would put the Metropolitan Museum of Art to shame. It’s the secrecy
that comes with being somewhere like this.
“Here we are.” Madame Mercury presses her hand on the door. From
inside, the locks turn, undoing themselves. She gives the door a
little push but doesn’t go in. “ Shout …if you need me.”
Surely, I hope there will be no shouting.
I’m the first one in. Nothing has prepared me for this. Not the
creatures of Toliss, not the oracles I’ve already found. The tiles are
wet. I notice too late and fall on my ass.
A little chuckle echoes against the high ceiling.
Like the rest of this place, the mosaic is artfully done. I follow
the patterns down along the walls to the center of the room where she
rests in a great pool. It’s her. Copper hair, milky white skin, and
eyes like warm green water. Her mouth is a dream, moist and red.
There’s nothing girlish about her. Not the arc of her eyebrow when she
looks at me, or the pleased smirk when she finds Kurt, who is walking
toward her. He takes baby steps. After we hauled ass to get here.
One. Two.
He sighs. Reaches out.
Three.
She swims to the edge of her pool. I wonder how she can float like
that. Her tails are magnificent, green like pine.
Four. Five. Six.
He falls to his knees, all the while staring at her face. For a
moment, she looks sad, holding his face with her slender wet hands.
The breath between them makes the room shudder until it’s too much to
bear.
They kiss.
I try to look at the opulent black tile of the room, the plush
bench set off to the side, surely for decoration only. I don’t see the
two-tailed mermaid having tea on it. I feel pervy standing around
staring at them. He stands, bringing her up with him, pressing her
against his body, until the water reaches her hips at the start of her