“I am Sulas, son of Tulastian.” He puffs up his chest the way I’ve
seen those red-breasted birds do. “I fought alongside your
grandfather. What did that mongrel do but come from a long line of
banished folk? What did these beasts ever do, other than hide in the
shadows of the dry land?”
I get up close to Sulas, son of Tulastian, and he doesn’t pull his
sword away. The tip pricks my skin. Brendan and Marty step forward,
but I hold my hand up and they stop advancing.
“I’m only going to say this one more time. If you won’t consider
the things I’ve said, you can leave. I will not force anyone who
doesn’t want to be here to fight with me. I don’t have time for titles
or lordships. We’re not in Toliss. We’re in Brooklyn. I want people
who are true and willing to fight for the future, not the past.”
It isn’t the thing he wants to hear from me.
It isn’t the thing many of them want to hear from me.
So, Sulas, son of Tulastian, sheathes his sword. He smiles at me
and says, “Then you will die at the hands of the silver mermaid, Land
Prince,” and walks out into the Coney Island night.
The chill air comes in, along with the stink of rotting flesh
polluting the water. The building shakes. A light pulses through the
air, the walls, and my skin, right down to my chest. The headache
that’s been pounding in my head is gone, and I feel weightless.
Then my remaining army of strays gasps in awe at the light coming
from the second floor. It’s Shelly, floating, her black hair thick and
long and moving as if underwater. She descends over us, landing right
in the middle of the room. Hands reach out to touch her, just to make
sure she’s real.
Her eyes trained on me, Shelly says, “Don’t ever say I don’t come
through on my promises, Tristan Hart. It will only last until morning,
I’m afraid.”
“That’s fine,” I say, “because tomorrow, we fight.”
“How many does that make?” I ask, though I don’t want to know the
answer.
Marty looks up at the chandelier and counts the people who’ve left
on his fingers. “Twenty-one.”
“Seventeen.” Dylan corrects him. “When my kinsman learned Shelly
favors you, he and his brothers decided to stay.”
Dylan sits beside Marty and accepts a slice of pizza. Even though
Frederik says the entire city has been evacuated due to a massive
hurricane warning, Dominick’s Pizza is still open. After our little
scuffle, most of the pizza was splattered on the art deco walls. We
reordered a hundred large pies-cheese, bacon, and pineapple-because
it’s my way of getting the merpeople to trust me.
Brendan appraises the newcomer. “Pardon me, but what are you?”
“I am Ewin of the Vasiks clan,” he says. “I am not man nor beast.
I simply am. I come from the Vasiks dimension, which is now a black
hole.”
“Do all your kind have those?” Brendan touches his own chin.
“Those who are left, yes. I am indebted to Tristan Hart and his
generals. They saved me from a lifetime of unhappiness.”
“Generals,” Marty says, liking the title. “I can live with that.”
There have been zero arguments over hundred-year-old grievances
for half an hour. We have enough cliques to put my high-school
cafeteria to shame. The court mermaids are fish out of water, touching
every surface of the great room. There is not a single vase, portrait,
or light switch that is left untouched. Those with children have
commandeered all available bathrooms to keep the babies in water
because they can’t shift yet and scream bloody murder.
The Sea Guard is more willing to mingle with the landlocked and
Alliance members. The Alliance is schooling the guard on life on land,
and the guard shows the landlocked new fighting techniques.
Some of the older folk stay close to Shelly. Every couple of
minutes, she looks over to me, like she’s on a date she can’t escape.
She’s not used to being the center of attention, but I think a secret
part of her has always wanted to be as powerful as her sisters. It’s
easier to be humble about the things you have when you’ve gone so long
without.
Me, on the other hand, I’ve always been in the spotlight. Captain,
lifeguard, and all-around stud. Now? The landlocked and the Sea Court
come up to me to touch my hands, as little kids run around wielding
weapons to be like me and run up just to have a look at the Scepter of
Earth close up. I don’t know what to do with this kind of influence.
One older mermaid with pale green hair that reminds me of pistachio
ice cream smiles her wrinkled face at me and kisses the scales at my
ankles.
“It’s the worship of the king,” Kai tells me as the woman walks
away.
I want to say that I don’t like it, but I don’t want to hurt their
feelings.
Marty edges closer to where Dylan sits with his legs crossed. “So
you were in that Neverland too, huh?”
Dylan’s golden face becomes red. He has a mouth full of pizza and
mumbles, “Mmm-hmm.” I can tell he’s burning his tongue but he swallows
without chewing. “I found Lord Tristan when he was getting attacked by
the-”
I clear my throat and give him a look that says “Shut the hell
up.” Amada retreats into her seat and I put my hand on her shoulder.
She frowns. “I was not attacking him. I was trying to get him out
of the mud pit.”
Dylan looks sideways, raking his fingers through his blond mane.
“The growling must’ve confused me.”
“Either way, I’m glad Tristan has found a new protector,” Frederik
says, leaning against the wall with a Slurpee cup. The straw fills up
with a deep red liquid, which makes Dylan and Brendan gag, not being
used to vampires.
“You did a brave thing, Tristan,” Kai says. “The landlocked have
never had a voice in the court. Most of them-us-never think of them
unless vile stories are being told. Those who’ve stayed are doing
something their ancestors never would have.”
I pick a pineapple chunk off my pizza and let the sugar coat my
tongue. “It would have been nice to have those numbers.”
“Numbers aren’t everything,” Rachel the Red Menace reminds me. “A
true soldier is better than a dozen soldiers who don’t believe in your
cause.”
“I’m not doubting my people,” I say. “What if, even despite my
best intentions, half of them end up as bait?”
“Wars have their casualties,” Kai says, like she’s reading a line
from one of her dad’s textbooks.
“These aren’t casualties. They’re people. Or merpeople. And
vampires. And werewolves.”
“And demigods,” Rachel amends.
“And demigods,” I say. “They’re real, live creatures who are
caught in something that is my family’s fault.”
“That’s true,” Brendan says, eliciting a head slap from Kai.
“What? I only meant that each of the three trident pieces has gone to
members of the Triton line. Nieve, the first daughter of King Elanos.
King Karanos’s son and grandson. Except me. He said I’d have my own
role.”
“And what’s that?” I ask.
“To remember my family.”
“A shiny weapon would have also been nice,” Marty whispers to
Dylan.
“And to never let you forget that I’m more handsome than you,”
Brendan says, reaching for another slice, but I have a feeling there’s
more to what our grandfather said to him. “Are we finished already? By
the seas, you must keep better stock if you want to feed an army,
Cousin Tristan.”
“Marty,” Frederik said “Call Dominick’s-”
Then it hits me. “How is Nieve feeding her massive army of