catching Layla on the ship to how my grandfather split the trident

into three. But not the part where I fall asleep with Layla. I keep

that to myself.

I forgot to tell Kurt and Thalia to leave out the part about

Nieve, because it’s just going to freak Mom out. So, of course, Thalia

blurts it out. “Aunt Maia, what do you know of the sea witch Nieve?”

My mom’s fork grinds against the plate. “My father imprisoned her.

She’s in the caves.”

Thalia bites her lip. I guess every family has the crazy relative

no one wants to talk about. In our case, we have a crazy shark-mouthed

sea witch who likes to kill her family. “She’s been attacking

Tristan.”

“ What? ”

“But only through my dreams,” I add. Sure, that makes it better.

Dad looks confused. “Who is she?”

“A wretched woman with the powers of the greats. We’ve never been

able to prove it, but she killed my mother. I know she did.” Mom’s

fist is white around her fork as she holds it. Her turquoise eyes

catch me with a fury I’ve never seen come out of her. “Why didn’t you

tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me ?”

“How long have you been seeing her?”

“Since the day of the storm. I hadn’t changed yet, so how was I

supposed to know I wasn’t just going crazy after having survived

something like that?

“Did she hurt you?”

“She definitely had the opportunity, but it felt more like she was

playing with me.”

Mom shakes her head silently. “She was rather good at trying to

make others insane.” Mom pushes her plate away. “She’d delve into your

mind and make you see things that weren’t real. You’d be defenseless

if she could get her hands on you.”

“Wait. He gave me a dagger.” I run out to the living room and

unzip my bag. The black sphere in the center of the handle swirls

slowly, like it’s in a time of its own.

Dad chuckles. “It’s no lightsaber, but it’ll do the trick. Let’s

hope you don’t have to use it too soon.”

“It’s curious,” Mom says. “Nieve has been in the caves so long

that entire generations don’t know of her. How does she know of

Tristan?”

“There’s a traitor on the island,” Kurt says. “The guards are

spread out, and more are being called. Maybe she’s not only after

Tristan.”

“She always wanted my father’s throne.”

“In which case, none of the champions are safe.”

I draw Nieve’s likeness on a napkin with black marker, a crude

shark mermaid. I secure it on the map off the coast of Coney. “If the

next full moon is on June 26, I have seventeen days as of right now. A

little more than a forknight , or whatever it’s called. If I were a

sea oracle, where would I be?”

I wish I had a sound track of crickets playing in the background,

because that’s what this silence sounds like-crickets. Dad pressing

the pages of the Brooklyn Star flat on the table, Mom fuming in my

direction with her arms crossed over her chest, and Kurt and Thalia

eating as much syrup as we have stored in the pantry. Right, my

champion team.

“Oh!” Mom gets up. “When I was girl, my sister Alcyone and I used

to play around one of the oracle’s caves. She was a mean, nasty old

thing. One time-” She looks about the room. “You don’t need to know

about that part. Another time, our cousin Lucillia dared us to take

something from the oracle. She’s the youngest of the ten sisters and

was born without the sight. She has minor magics and can read corny

shells, but that’s about it.

“ But she has a wonderful collection of the rarest pearls and

jewels. There was one that was my favorite. It was a pretty, slightly

pink pearl from the Arctic. They only form there, and only when two

clams get stuck together and-you know. I’d notice it every time my

mother sent us to deliver news or food-because it’s always good to be

on friendly terms with an oracle, no matter what her level of power

is.”

“So you stole it?” Dad’s smile is from ear to ear.

“Do you think she noticed?” Thalia asks.

“It was one of her favorites.” Mom shrugs. “I’m sure of it. She

wouldn’t know it was me, because there was no way she would’ve been

able to see it happening.”

My stomach twists. A pretty pink pearl. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

“But how do you find her?” Dad asks.

Mom puts her finger on her lip. “The last I remember, she was off

the Canary Islands. But that was five h-” Mom notices my dad’s cheesy

smile at the fact that she’s about to reveal how old she is. “A long

time ago.”

Kurt stands in front of the map, hands on his green cargo shorts.

I don’t know what he sees. I see a bunch of places I’ve never been to.

That’s the thing about growing up in Brooklyn. Everyone is from

everywhere in the world, so it always feels like you’ve already been

there. Angelo and his big Italian family, Layla and her Greek and

Ecuadorian parents, Jerry and his Puerto Rican parents. Bertie and his

crazy Jamaican grandmother who likes to chase us off their front porch

with a broom and call us batti boys.

Kurt points to the water near Florida. “There’s an oracle here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.” His reply doesn’t come out snooty, but there’s

more than he’s saying. Knowing Kurt, he’s not going to give anything

away. Keepers of the deep. Right. More secrets. “I mean, I’ve been

there.”

“How long would it take to swim down there?” Dad asks my mom. “I

mean, it’s a little over eight hundred miles on land, but then if you

consider-” He stares ahead, mumbling, which he does when he’s solving

my math problems. “Maybe seven days without stopping.”

“You’re forgetting the channels,” Kurt says.

“You lost me at channels ,” I go.

“When you get deep enough, there are currents that break through

the water and form paths that run all over the earth.” Mom walks

around the table and points to New York. “If I remember correctly,

there’s a channel south of Staten Island that leads to the Great Coral

Caves. Is that where the oracle is, Kurt?”

“She’s there. It’s only been a few years.”

“A few human years or a few mermaid years?”

He sighs, exasperated. “A few human years. Thirty, maybe. She

should still be there. If we find the sightless oracle and give her

your pearl as a gift, especially if she coveted it as you said-”

“Let me go get it,” Mom says.

Oh god. I should tell her. No time like the present. “Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Was the pearl strung on a thin silver necklace?”

“Yes, it was in my treasure ch-”

“Well-”

“Please, please tell me you gave it to Layla,” she pleads.

The knot in my stomach is tighter. “Actually, I gave it to Maddy.”

“Tristan!” She reaches out her hands as if she could wring my

neck, which she should.

“I didn’t think it was important. You have so much stuff in there,

and remember when I was trying to get Cindy Rodriguez to go out with

me and you let me pick something out so I could give it to her for

Valentine’s Day? And the tiara for Maddy’s Sweet Sixteen?”

She grunts and balls her hands into fists. Dad flips the pages of

his newspaper, his way of telling me, Don’t look at me, son. This is

your mess. Fix it.

Kurt shrugs. “So get it back from her.”

Even Thalia laughs at the suggestion. “From what I’ve gathered

from the girls at your school and her general disdain toward you,

you’ll be lucky if she hasn’t already burned it, sold it, or simply

thrown it out.”

I shake my head. “She doesn’t throw things out. She’s super

sentimental. She keeps everything that means something to her.”