It swallows two bodies whole from the water, making its way down to
the shore.
The creature bursts out with a gallop and rattles the whole
island, knocking everyone to the ground.
All except for Nieve, who raises herself into the air, the wind
forming a cone around her. She holds her hand out and the trident
flies to her open palm.
Her eyes are a white film, the air thick with her magic. It’s not
enough that she’s blocked out the sun. She wants to bury the world
under the sea. Great waves crash over us, pushing some out into the
sea where awaiting tentacles reach hungrily.
“Tristan!” Marty is running under the heaving turtle. “This thing
is huge!”
A merrow attacks me. I kick him in the chest, but I’m not up to my
full strength and he falls on me. I hold his sword hands and push them
away from my face. A blade rips through its head and the merrow breaks
away on top of me, chunks of its flesh going in my mouth.
“Thanks for showing up,” I say.
“We were waiting,” Marty says, throwing me a weapon. “Brendan’s
ship can’t anchor. The water’s too rough.”
“Stay close,” I tell him.
He nods and runs to the aid of one of his allies. I’m trying to
find familiar faces in the mix of merrows. In her beast form, Amada
runs alongside her sister, forming a tag team that’s fluid one moment
and solid the next.
Something deep in my bones tells me that Nieve is heading straight
for Coney Island. It’s my home. It’s the best way to hurt me. I can
sense her urging the giants toward land. The turtle crosses the Toliss
forest, flattening it to the ground as it nears the shore.
I throw things at her, but she’s turning into a storm at full
force.
I try to remember what happened after the sea dragons grabbed us.
Where is Triton’s dagger? Nieve thinks the Triton line is hers. I’m
not worthy. She’d keep it at the throne. I run for it, but so does a
merman from Nieve’s ranks, his forehead inked with the symbols of the
court. I stop running and let him reach for it. He smirks then is
confused as to why I’m laughing. When his hand starts burning, the
skin black as coal, he drops the dagger and it slides right at my
feet.
“Mercy,” he says.
I hesitate. This is war after all. The merrows aren’t showing
mercy to any of mine. Would he do the same? I don’t have time to
answer as the wall behind him crumbles, what’s left of the throne
crushing him into surf.
As Nieve floats higher into the air, she hisses a command to her
army. A mass of them dive into the lake. “Land,” she says, her voice a
hateful slithering thing, “land.”
The turtle has reached the Toliss shoreline, and it steps into the
water. I jump over boulders and fallen trees.
“Duck!” someone shouts.
It sounds like one of my men so I drop to the ground and a cannon
blasts from the massive wooden ship bopping in the water. The turtle
walks past it, creating a small wave that pushes the ship precariously
to the side. I can see Layla on the deck, grabbing hold of the mast.
She’s joined by Shelly and some of the landlocked.
Then from the sides, silver bodies slither out of the waves. The
island is sinking, the water edging closer and closer. The lake is
getting so high that it goes over the banks. Arion marches with a
group of landlocked warriors and they run into the lake.
“Behind you.” He points.
I throw myself on the ground as Archer’s fist grazes my cheekbone.
He’s joined by four of his brothers. In the dark, all I can see are
their yellow eyes, and I hear their screams as four winged men of the
Alliance swoop down and pick them up. They go higher and higher and
them throw them back into the sea as piles of black ooze.
“You,” Archer says. It’s the only word he can seem to get out. He
blames me for Gwen. I blame me for Gwen too.
A hand rests on my shoulder and pulls me back. Kurt, wielding a
sword he seems to have stolen from the enemy. It is curved and bloody.
His violet eyes are focused and trained on the tall merrow.
“He’s mine,” Kurt says, pushing me aside and meeting Archer.
I run back in the thick of it, back to back with Yara and the
River Clan. Their arrows never miss a target.
Then I can feel a voice in my head whispering in a strange tongue.
Shelly? I ask. She was the last one to speak in my head before.
But the thoughts are distorted, like they’re not even human.
Above me, Nieve screams like a banshee, directing her chaotic
orchestra. The tentacles of the kraken are long gone, the turtle
swimming straight for Coney Island. It’s the sea horse that is
unaccounted for. It’s the sea horse that’s in my head.
Doris? I say, unsure of myself.
I can feel her happiness at the recognition of her name. I
remember what the nautilus maid told me. I could control my beast, no
matter what. Chrysilla knew this. I think this was her own way of
stopping her sister from taking the future into her own hands.
Chrysilla left me with the connection to the sea horse.
This is so weird, I think. Doris neighs in response.
Uhh, where are you?
“Tristan!” Ewin from the Bronx yells at me. “Why are you standing
so precariously close to danger? Seek cover!”
He shoves me behind a boulder where Kai is nursing a nasty cut
across her ribs. Marty takes off his shirt and rips it to make a
bandage.
“Jesus, Marty,” I say, “you’re paler than Nieve.”
Then he shifts into me and goes, “Better?”
“Cut that out!” I hate it when he does that. But he’s got me down
to a T, for Tristan. Every cut and bruise, and the nose that didn’t
get set properly.
Ewin pushes both of us away and picks up Kai.
“I’m fine,” she says. “Give me my sword back.”
Ewin turns to me for some support but I shrug. “I wouldn’t argue.”
The tusked warrior smiles at her and says, “You are perfect.”
She turns beet red but takes her sword and steps out from behind
the boulder that shields us.
“Marty!” I say. “Don’t change.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“No, I mean, stay me.” I take the dirty cap off his head and throw
it into the lake. He whimpers, probably contemplating if it’s worth
his life to go jump into a lake infested with merrows. “Take off your
pants.”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he mumbles.
“With your scales on,” I say. It’s like standing in front of a
mirror.
A black shadow races toward us. “This was not part of the plan,”
Frederik says when he sees what we’re doing.
“Can you tell which one is which?” Marty says.
Frederik looks back and forth at us, a wrinkle forming between his
eyebrows. Then finally, he points at Marty and says, “Marty. You ate
that tuna and it’s coming out of your pores.”
The good thing is that it took enough time for him to figure it
out.
“Of course,” Marty says, his voice coming out of my mouth. “That’s
your backup plan.”
“I need you to get her attention. Do something that makes her want
to chase you. I need her to come down from up there.”
“What’ll you do after?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “Making this up as I go along.”
“Good.” Marty/Me nods. “I’m glad my whole life is dependent on
your whims. I’m so glad I met you.”
I wait as he runs out into the lake area, his feet splashing ankle
deep in the rising water. He waves his hands like he’s trying to land
a plane. Then he throws some rocks at her.
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Oh, Marty.”