“I was a duke once,” Frederik says matter-of-factly. Something

about the way he speaks and holds his posture makes me totally able to

picture that. “When the forgotten rise up, it is never good for the

crown.”

“Not that I mind,” I say, “but why are you so helpful?”

“You remind me of someone I used to know.” He turns his attention

behind me, toward the boardwalk. “I have a soft spot for lost causes.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Just think on what I’ve told you. We don’t ask for these burdens.

It’s just the price.”

“Price for what?”

“Being better men.”

The carousel slows to a stop. A new wave of thrilled screams and

giggles chime along with the bright lights and trilling music. In the

distance, sirens blare and cars honk. That good ol’ Brooklyn lullaby.

After two nights at sea, I’d started to miss the noise.

“Ahh,” Frederik says with the first genuine smile I’ve seen from

him. His teeth are slightly yellowed, but even so, I feel strangely

pulled into the angular lines of his face. He brushes his thick, black

hair away. “I thought I smelled sunshine.”

For the first time, I notice the familiar set of faces walk past

us. Unintentionally, I turn around.

“Friends of yours?” Frederik grins at the mermaid princesses.

I try to compose my face, get rid of the gore and exhaustion of

the last couple of days. I want to channel my cousin Brendan or a

little of the guy I used to be. When I turn around, Princess Sarabell

and her girls have made a beeline for us.

“Remember that thing I can do to further myself?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Here they come.”

His stoic features are a mess of shock, then sheer amusement.

“Hello, ladies.” The High Vampire of the Hawaiian Shirt bows low.

I don’t know much about genuflection and shit like that, but that

looks pretty legit, even for a guy who was a duke a couple hundred

years ago.

Sarabell holds out a hand, and without missing a beat, Fred McCool

Guy kisses it. Her face is orgasmic, all giggles and sighs. Then she

realizes I’m standing right here and she composes herself.

“How did you fare, Lord Sea?” Sarabell says to me. Her amber eyes

glow under the theme-park lights. Brown ringlets of her hair look soft

and silky, and the breeze blows them everywhere, carrying her sweet

scent of brown sugar.

“Uh-”

“I’d love to hear of your journeys.”

I wish Frederik would smack me upside the head. At the same time,

I thank the gods that Brendan isn’t here to watch me make a fool of

myself. I am Tristan Hart. Never have I ever had a girl reject me, and

on a scale of one to ten, Sarabell is an eleven. But she’s not my

eleven.

Then Brendan’s voice is in my ear saying, “Her cousin is a

champion. Pump her for information.”

Not literally.

Then, as Sarabell glances awkwardly from me to Fred to her

entourage to fill the void of Tristan Hart’s ultimate choke moment, I

tell myself this is for the greater good.

“Why don’t we go out?” Smooth. “I’ll tell you about it. Later.

When we’re out.”

I have the sudden urge to seppuku myself and spare us all the

indignity.

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Her mouth is so sweet. “We can go for a

swim?”

“Sure,” I go. “Sounds good.”

Sarabell shakes off the confusion and takes my fumble for sheer

adoration. She dips in a girly bow and takes my hand, looking up at me

with her amber eyes. “You won’t regret it.”

At once, they’re gone, and I throw myself against the fence behind

us.

Frederik is staring at me. “I was under the impression that you

were skilled with the fairer sex.”

“Were,” I say, “is the key word. I don’t know what’s wrong with

me.”

Layla, Thalia, and Kurt hop off their white steeds, and as they

walk back to us, Frederik glances from me to Layla and says, “I think

I know.”

Layla is holding Kurt and Thalia’s hands. “Aww, look. Tristan got

himself a date.”

“She’s Adaro’s cousin, you know,” Kurt says. “Perhaps you can find

out if he saw the oracle at the cove.”

I grit my teeth. “ I know .”

Layla’s face is beet red. “Are you guys going to an underwater

drive-in? Park on the back of a shark-drawn chariot?”

Frederik takes one step closer to her and smells her. Layla leans

back but not without blushing at his dumb vampire perfection.

“Jealousy suits you,” he says. “Your blood is boiling.”

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest. “We don’t have chariots.”

Then Frederik turns to the boardwalk, nose up in the air. “Ahh.

Early sunrise. My least favorite part of the summer. I’m sure we’ll

see each other soon.”

I reach out to take his hand. He stares at me as if I’m holding a

wooden stake and a hammer.

“Don’t forget what I’ve told you tonight,” he says.

As he stalks away through the flickering red archway, the first

ravens take flight.

My sleep is restless.

Full of sharp teeth and claws and screaming. Frederik standing

under the Brooklyn Bridge saying, “Hurry.” He faces away and then I’m

back on Arion’s ship. Archer calls to me and I drive my dagger through

his heart. He melts away and Nieve rises from inside him.

When I open my eyes, my whole face is swollen. Morning-after pain

is always the worst. In the shower, my muscles unknot, and bruises

bloom all over my skin where the tentacles sucked on me going down the

well. After I get dressed, I take out a bag of frozen peas and hold it

over my right knuckles.

Kurt comes in and grabs a stool beside me. “You have to use both

hands.”

“I’ll just add ‘become ambidextrous’ to my to-do list.” I wince

when I stretch out my fingers. “Get any sleep?”

“Hardly.” He stares at me for a bit, starts to say something, but

changes his mind.

I hate when people do that. “Just spit it out. What?”

“You were talking in your sleep.”

I chuckle. “What did I say?”

“Brother.” Kurt takes the frozen peas from me and presses the bag

to his cheek where a merrow got a really good hit. “You kept saying,

‘Brother.’”

“Yeah, well. Archer’s not easy to forget.”

I get up and stand in front of our Command Central wall. While we

were gone, my parents added a calendar, crossing off the days to the

championship. It’s Monday morning. I can hear my dad in the shower

getting ready for work. My mom gets up just after he does and makes

breakfast. On a regular day, I’d swing by Layla’s house and we’d take

the train, picking up the rest of our team on the way.

The marker bleeds through the white paper and I think of the

merrow blood dripping. “Why hasn’t she killed me?”

Kurt returns the soggy peas to the freezer. “I would think you’d

be glad she hasn’t.”

I laugh, straining against the pinch in my abs. “I just-I hate

that I can feel her. That for some reason she wants me. Her magic…it’s

like this force . Like the nautilus maid. Like she could turn me into

a puppet with just her will, but she’d rather toy with me instead.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kurt says darkly. “That was part

of her seduction. She made you feel what she wanted you to.”

“Sounds like a party.”

“I don’t have an answer for you.” He runs his hands through his

hair. “She’s before my time. All I know are stories.”

“Then guess.”

He sits for a moment. Rays of sunlight break through a patch of

clouds and illuminate the kitchen. “Power. The throne. It’s what she

wanted the first time. You are so very different from the other mermen