enter the island. Unless, of course, they’re for play.”

The other boy, almost a replica, only more purple, smiles

wickedly.

“P-play?” Layla’s eyes remind me of the insides of a Magic 8 Ball,

moving around dizzily, trying to predict what might just be

unpredictable.

“She must be sequestered until the king can decide her fate.”

The crowd gasps. The only human guy chews on his toothpick and

scratches the back of his head, then puts his cap back on. He cranes

his head to peek at the horizon. We are very, very close.

The urchin guys grab her, one by each hand. She kicks and screams,

her eyes burning holes through me.

“Wait, wait a minute.” I jump from the top deck, where I’ve been

standing, to land on my feet. “She’s off limits. Didn’t you hear me

before?”

The blue one puffs his skinny, nonexistent chest at me. “Yeah, I

heard you. What of it? Rules is rules.”

“You’ve got no authority, half-breed,” the purple one says.

Half-breed? No one’s ever called me that.

“Even though I am not your king, I’m still the king’s grandson.

I’m of the royal-royal f-family.” I catch Kurt’s eyes and take his

small nod as a sign that I’m on the right track. “Unless you want to

explain to the king how you let a human best you and board your ship.”

The urchin brothers back down, but not without showing how deeply

they’d probably want to ram their spiky little heads into my gut. The

crowd looks pretty bored with us, and the group breaks up little by

little. Some of them bow to me before turning away to mind their

business, and others look down their noses-or the equivalent-at me,

cursing me in grunts. Some are just completely disinterested and

continue to stare out at the water.

Arion clears his throat. “Lord Sea is right. She can stay with

him. The Sea King will decide her penalty-”

“ Penalty? ” Layla and I blurt out the word at the same time.

“Outcome,” Kurt corrects, but that doesn’t make it any better. My

dream of her drowning flashes in my mind.

“Come with me.” I shove the two urchin boys off her and pull her

with me, tripping down the stairs and landing below deck. “What. Are.

You. Doing. Here?”

She’s shaking. She lets go of my hand and wraps her arms around

herself. Her wrists are red where the urchin boys were holding her.

Something in me is on fire. I want to hold on to her and tell her that

it’s going to be okay, even though I don’t even know what we’re going

to see when we reach the shore.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Where is here ?”

“A ship? The water?” I reply.

“Do not mess with me right now, Tristan!” The low light of the gas

lamps around us casts shadows over her face so that all I can see are

cheeks, lips, eyes. She looks away, sniffling.

“Is this what you couldn’t tell me? You joined a-circus?”

Wow, I wish I’d thought of that one.

“How did you even get on board? Why would you even get on board is

probably the better question.”

“To help you, duh ? I thought you were involved in some Sharks

versus Jets kinda crap.”

I rub my palms on my face. “Well, there are sharks.”

I lean against a stack of barrels. How did I even get here? I’m

the worst at protecting the people around me.

The stairs creak under Kurt’s weight. I recognize his sneakers as

he makes his way down. He stands like a soldier, stone faced, arms

behind his back. His stance totally clashes with the outfit and his

windblown hair. His eyes scan Layla’s face. “I can’t promise that you

will be completely safe. But, as you are important to Tristan, you are

important to me. We will do all we can to keep you safe.”

She takes a step forward, and the light from upstairs shows the

red corners of her eyes, the dry trails of dirty tears. “I hate you,”

she tells me. “Who the hell are you ?” she asks Kurt. “His

Canadian-Irish-Italian cousin?” She turns back to me. “How long have

you been lying to me?”

Seven days, six hours, and forty-five minutes, I want to say.

The ship shakes, and a barrel falls out of place, knocking me to

the side. Layla falls forward and Kurt catches her. He helps her to

her feet. Don’t worry about me, guys, I’m fine. Just almost got

flattened by whatever is in those barrels.

“We’re almost there,” Kurt says.

“No shit, Legolas,” Layla snaps.

Kurt stares at her. I don’t know if he’s going to kill her or let

my grandfather do it. “How much does she know?”

“Sharks,” I answer.

He nods, even though it shouldn’t make sense. “Very well, keep it

that way for now. She needs to see for herself. Perhaps we can

interest the king in her.”

“Eww, no way!”

“Not like that, stupid.” I try not to picture Layla in a metal

bikini being offered as a trophy bride to the King of the Seas. “Wait,

it’s not like that, right?”

“Hmm? Oh, of course not.” Kurt shakes his head in that way he does

when he sighs humans. “Do you have anything to offer the king, besides

your virtue?”

I don’t know whose jaw drops lower, mine or Layla’s. I can smell

her anger like lit kerosene. She balls up her fists and steeps in her

own fury. Upstairs the footsteps have faded. Thalia sticks her head

into the opening. “We’re here. Hurry up. Vamos! ” She quotes my dad,

and I can hear her scamper around on the deck.

Kurt grabs onto the ladder and stops halfway up. He bends down so

he is face-to-face with Layla, their noses just shy of touching. For a

moment, I think he’s going to hit her. But then he says, “Whatever you

do, do not leave Tristan’s side.”

I can practically hear her roll her eyes. Up on deck, the sun

shines so brightly that I have to shield my eyes against it.

“Where did this come from?” I hold my arms out and welcome the sun

against my face. My body is buzzing with excitement, like the first

time I rode a wave, when I changed into my fins in the pool earlier,

or when Layla gave me CPR the day I washed up from the storm.

“Welcome, young Tristan,” Arion says. The ship bops in the still,

crystal-blue water. I stand on the ledge of the ship to jump off. I

fall on my ass in the water. The water is the Goldilocks kind of

perfect. I want to splash around in it.

Layla and Kurt are already on the beach. The sand is white with

black freckles. My flip-flops have come off, and they float on the

surface. I grab them and make my way to my friends. Layla is staring

at the golden specks on Arion’s shoulders. Or maybe she’s just staring

at his shoulders. Everything looks too vivid here. His skin is more

bronze than an hour ago, his hair slick and black, his onyx eyes like

inky pools. Under the live black ropes that wrap around his tail, the

scales glisten in black and white flecks.

“Holy-shitake mother-flower mushrooms,” she says.

I turn to Kurt and Thalia, who stand in their wet clothes holding

on to their shoes. They also look more radiant. This is what they look

without their glamours, like the raw colors of a prism. Thalia is

greener than before, her hair no longer a subtle black-green. She

spins on the sand, the bottom of her dress puffing out in a circle.

Kurt’s tanned skin has a slight golden tinge. His violet eyes look

more like crystal. I wonder if I look any different.

Layla’s still staring at Arion, who bows to her. “I apologize for

my crew. They’re a bit angry.”

“Are they also repaying sentences to the king?” I ask.

Arion laughs. “No, they’re just urchins.”

“Thank you, Arion,” Kurt says.