now the only expression I can manage is anger. How can I tell my

friends that I got manipulated by the oracle? Did the nautilus maid

think I was weak? Too weak to give up a simple memory of a kiss?

Thalia places a hand on my knee and offers me a smile.

I point at the card game and the mess of things collected at the

center-gold coins, a pack of cigarettes, rusted gold rings, a jar of

pickled frogs, and a small barrel labeled “Wind.” I pick up the

barrel, and Thalia warns, “Don’t let it out! We need that to get back

home.”

I set it back on the table. “Is this all your winnings?”

Gwen, who’s been studying my face, thumbs at Layla. “This one here

took the pirates for everything they were worth.”

Layla reluctantly smiles at Gwen. “Tristan taught me.”

I dip my head in a little bow. “This place really cleared out.

What time is it?”

“Nine,” Thalia says. “Reggie says there’s a curfew. Says too many

strangers have been appearing. Not just the champions. Ships seeking

refuge from terrible monsters out at sea.”

Reggie rings a shrill bell. I cover my ears to stop my head from

pounding. “Go on, you festering sores. Last call.”

The remaining stragglers get up and stumble out into the night.

Reggie gives the girls a black sack to throw all their loot in. Kurt

shoulders it and I want to ask if merpeople have a Santa Claus, but

the words just won’t come out.

I get up and lean against the bar. “Bit early, even for a curfew.”

“Mayor’s orders. Nine p.m., we start closing up shops.” Reggie

takes a sip from his mug. “Ten p.m., everyone in their beds until

further notice. For everyone’s safety. Last week, we had an attack.

Came in the dead of night. The night men that keep watch couldn’t get

a good look at them. They were searching for something. When they

couldn’t find it, they tore apart whatever they could. Tried to get

into the cathedral as well, but we’ve got our own protection for

that.”

“The entrance to the oracle was through there,” I say. “Wasn’t

it?”

Reggie nods once but doesn’t elaborate. Gwen pushes the double

doors open, letting in the cold.

“Best if you get back to your ship.” The troll man salutes me.

“Fair seas to you, Mermutt.”

***

The farther we get down the hill, the darker the town gets. The

yellow glow of the street lamps casts long shadows. I see faces where

there aren’t any and hear whispers that shouldn’t be there. I wonder

if it’s the lingering effect of the well memories. I concentrate on

the cobblestones beneath my feet. The coolness of the stone. The

daylight hours away. Hands, warm small hands, grab onto mine and

squeeze. She leans her head against my arm, and for a terrible moment,

I realize I’ll keep my promise to the nautilus maid just for this.

“Is that fire?” Thalia breaks into a jog.

Layla and I drop hands and sprint ahead. We follow the light of

the moon on the water and the crosshatch of lit apartments until the

pier comes into view. Our ship is bobbing in the wind alone. A blue

flame crackles in the crow’s next.

“Where are the other ships?”

“Where’s Arion?” Thalia yells.

It’s too dark to see where his ropes lead, but Arion is missing

from the masthead. Our footsteps are a stampede down the pier and onto

the ramp. The deck is empty. “Blue?” I unsheathe my dagger and it hums

frantically in my hand. “Arion?”

“There’s no one here,” Gwen says.

“That’s not possible.” Kurt throws the black bag over his shoulder

and onto the deck. “Arion can’t leave the ship.”

In the wind I pick up the smell of the oil feeding the small

lantern flame atop the mast. The ramp connecting us to the dock

splashes into the water. The sails billow like clouds against the wind

and I fall back, nearly toppling overboard.

Red claws snap at me. A merrow is climbing up the side. Its face

is all teeth and red gums chomping at the air. It levels up to me and

takes a snap at my face. I swing my dagger out, cleaving its head

right off. Black blood oozes all over me, and before the merrow can

decompose, I push it overboard.

We form a circle at the center of the deck. The Vanishing Cove is

a dark mound in the distance.

With the dying wind, I can smell them perfectly. Dirt and decay

and death and the stink of rotting fish. They’re climbing over the

sides of the ship, waiting along the ledges, merrows and mermen alike.

Kurt’s shoulders are right against mine. “Twelve, I think.”

I shake my head. A figure steps forward from the shadows. “Make

that thirteen.”

Number 13 towers over all of them. If not for the fin-like ears,

I’d say he was a merman. But with the scars that cover his bare chest

and shoulders in rough patches, the tan of his scaly skin, and the

dorsal-like ridges that form a Mohawk down his bald head, he’s a

merrow-and he’s holding Arion with a jagged knife at his throat.

Arion’s face is red with fury. His fists are white and, more

importantly, powerless in helping him defend himself. My dagger hums

with frantic energy matching the rush of adrenaline that makes my

knees shake. I take a step forward but the giant merrow holds out a

careful finger at me.

“Now, now,” Number 13 says. They’ve never spoken before. It’s

always been sharp teeth and flying fists. “Would you believe me if I

told you I mean you no harm?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘no’?”

“Mother told me you were funny.” His high cheekbones are

pronounced when he smiles. “The only difference is that I mean you no

harm tonight, in this moment. I was seeking another ship. But when I

recognized this prisoner here,” he gives Arion’s neck a squeeze, “I

couldn’t resist meeting you in person.”

“Let my captain go and come meet me.” My heart is booming in my

chest. Kurt catches my eye. I know he doesn’t want me to throw the

first punch. We’re severely outnumbered and the merrows are getting

smarter. At least, this one is.

“As you like,” Number 13 says. “He isn’t going anywhere any time

soon.”

He throws Arion overboard, and the captain grasps at the air as if

his ropes are failing him. A loud thud echoes when he hits the side of

the ship, then hangs slack.

“Who the hell are you?” I ask.

“So small. So feisty.” Before I can counter with another insult,

he continues, “My mother calls me Archer. I am the voice of my

brothers. Our condition makes it so most of us can’t communicate the

way normal sea folk can. Then again, we are not normal sea folk. We

are stronger. Better. Our mother nurtured us, took care of us when

your kingdom threw us away like driftwood.”

Kurt spits on the floor. “You’re a fool. You can no more trust the

silver witch than the eye of a storm.”

Archer cocks his head to the side. His men encircling us are

getting restless, but with one hand motion from him, they stop

shuffling. “I’ve heard of you, Kurtomathetis. Such beauty, wasted in

the end.”

At the threat, Thalia tries to step forward but Gwen holds her

back.

“Not that this isn’t fun for all of us,” I say. “I mean, I love

meeting new people. But we have places to go. I’ll thank you to get

off my ship.”

“I thought you were the civilized one, being human and merkin. I

knew the rumors of your greatness were exaggerated. Believe me, I will

feel your spine crumble in my fist.”

I smirk. “I thought you were here to be my friend.”

Archer takes another step toward me. He’s a good foot taller. His