because I don’t want to hear it.
Penny looks down that the table. She picks up the salt shaker and
holds it. “Sometimes the families would not want to travel that far
and would simply leave the creature at the edge of a precipice. It is
considered a curse to raise a merrow.”
“I see,” Dad says quietly.
No one touches their food anymore.
“So these creatures,” I say, “these merrows that are supposed to
be dead, are now fully grown and attacking people.”
Penny shakes her head. “Not people. They’re after you. Whatever
gets in their way is just collateral damage.”
“They’ve never attacked before?” Dad asks.
“They’re not equipped to survive on their own,” Thalia says. “If
they’re living to that size, then someone is raising them. I’ve never
seen one before-”
“Nor have I,” Kurt adds.
“The Sea King does not want to be like his father. From what my
grandparents told me, King Elanos had the wrath of the eye of a storm.
Your father,” Penny turns to my mom, “wanted to be loved by his
people, and now it’s going to haunt him.”
“Nieve is raising them,” Kurt says. I can feel his mind turning.
He’s coming up with a plan. I have no plan. I’m just trying to take
this all in. “I’m sure of it.”
“What else do you know, Penny?” I ask.
“I’m not connected to the underground as such. This was my first
tithe to the king. I was born on land, but my mother taught me the
basic rules to keep my family protected.”
I chew on a piece of bacon, just for the taste of salt in my
mouth. “Why are you doing this? I mean, if you have no connection to
the court, why would you even care about the championship?”
“Because unlike other merpeople, you know what it’s truly like to
be part of both worlds. You could change things. Change things for
real. Like I said, my boy is rooting for you.” She stands and presses
her hands on her apron. “I have to get back to work. Remember,
Tristan, it’s not just my boy and I rooting for you. You’ll find our
kind is all behind you, not just in the seas.” With that and a small
wave she’s gone.
I try to give her the best smile I can. I don’t want to disappoint
her by letting her know I’m no closer to piecing the trident back
together than I am to graduating from high school.
The minute I step into school, I remember being on that field. I
remember Kurt pointing his arrow past Ryan’s head at the creature. I
remember standing there waiting for its poisonous needles to hit me
and then feeling Layla jump in the way. The way her body stiffened
around me as the poison worked through her body. I shut my eyes
against it. I decide nothing like that is ever going to happen again,
because I’m going to find Maddy. I’m going to get the pearl, and I’m
going to find the oracles.
I try to replay what Penny said at Neptune’s Diner, but I collide
into someone. Someone who is really pissed off.
“What’s your problem, man? Can’t you see where you’re walking?”
Angelo shoves me into the locker. It doesn’t hurt, but the dagger in
my backpack hums. “What’s up, pretty boy? Need me to teach you how to
talk?”
I wave Kurt off, because he’s ready to jump right in there. We’re
gathering a crowd, people snapping pictures and running videos with
their phones.
“Relax, man.” I put my free hand on his shoulder. This is
Angelo-pervy, wassa-matta-wit-you Angelo. Angelo who was born with a
head of hair full of industrial-strength hair gel and a gold Italian
chain, who always has your back unless he’s the one messing with you.
He’s the asshole of your friends, but he’s your asshole friend.
He grabs my hand and puts me into an I’m-not-kidding headlock.
I can feel it in my spine, the magic that’s tattooed in my blood,
in the ancient-as-hell dagger sheathed on my back. I elbow him and
flip his arm around. I push him against the lockers, but not enough
that it’ll hurt him too badly. Just to show him that I can. “What’s
the matter with you, bro?”
His eyes are glassy. I wonder who else has suffered his wrath, and
it’s not even first period. I let him go, and he shakes his head as if
he’s been sleepwalking. “I don’t know, man. I feel, like, jittery, you
know?”
I let the tips of our foreheads touch like we’re in a huddle
before a meet. “Nothing you could’ve done.”
“Yeah, but you’re my boy. We’re a team. My team needed me
yesterday when you were getting attacked by some punks.”
“We took care of it,” I say. I don’t know if I’m saying this for
his comfort or for mine. It’s even worse because beneath his trademark
dude-scented body spray is the smell of his guilt, like wet dirt being
turned in a grave.
“All right, you vultures. Get out of here!” Layla’s voice breaks
up the crowd. She doesn’t always wear makeup, but she’s wearing it
now. It looks pretty on her, but I can tell that she’s trying to cover
up the puffiness from crying too long.
“Thanks,” I say. I feel stupid standing and waiting for her to say
something else. To tell me it’s good to see me. Maybe this was what it
felt like when she thought I was gone. Like I’m freaking thirsty and
no amount of water will fix it. Only her. Only Layla can fix me.
She shuts her eyes and shifts the weight of her bag. “I don’t know
about you losers, but I’m grounded till I’m married and popping out
babies. In that order.”
“I’m free third period.” Angelo raises his hand. Normally, Layla
would punch him in the gut, but today she’s going to let it slide. The
bell rings, and everyone scatters except for us.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking one step toward her.
She nods once but doesn’t look at me. “Maddy’s in the fourth-floor
bathroom with her friends. She invited me to hang. I just don’t like
smelling like smoke.”
“You need to go get her,” Thalia tells me. She links arms with
Layla and gives me a reassuring smile. I want to stay with Layla, but
I want to go get the pearl. I leave them at the entrance of homeroom
and keep walking straight ahead to the next stairwell. I look back
once to see if Layla is looking too, and she isn’t. She’s pulling
farther and farther away, and I don’t know how to get her back.
•••
The fourth floor is the ghost floor.
It’s the only part of school, other than part of the basement,
that never got renovated. You instantly know where the bathroom is,
because all you have to do is follow the thin trail of smoke. The
thick wooden door has a little W tacked on like an afterthought. I
press my ear against it, but all I can make out is mumbling, some
laughter, more mumbling.
“Knock, knock.” I push open the door slowly.
There’s a sudden rustle of kids gathering their things together
and putting out their cigarettes.
“Chill. I’m not Quinn.”
“Sorry, we thought you were Umberto,” one of Maddy’s friends says.
She relights the end of her cigarette, and the little red light flares
with every pull. “He came by before to clean the bathroom and gave us
a five-minute warning.”
Umberto is pretty easy to bribe as long as he knows he won’t get
caught.
Maddy sits between two other girls. One girl has a short black bob
and wears tons of pearls around her neck. The girl on the other side
is less dramatic, with long chestnut hair and rectangular glasses. She
digs her hand into a bag of neon sour worms. I can smell the sour
sugar from here.