says that when silverware falls on the ground, it means unexpected

visitors. I really hope that’s just a bunch of superstitious bullshit,

but my merman senses are tingling.

“We were there last night. At Greg’s house.” I stand in front of

the television so they look at me instead. I tell them about Shelly

and the translation and running to Greg’s house. “What gets me is that

he has the protection stuff. The wreath that the court gave him.”

“It’s a symbol, Tristan.” My mom rests one hand on her belly, even

though she isn’t showing yet, and places the other on my shoulder.

“Just like the one on our door. The king is only king right now as a

formality to crown the new one. But without the trident, his power

ebbs. Whoever did this knows that.”

“My behavior is unacceptable.” Kurt broods. “I should’ve been

there.”

My mom takes my hand and examines the smoothness. “She shot you?”

“She’s new,” I say. “Frederik’s been calling in reinforcements

because of the rise in dead bodies.”

“And they were all there,” Kurt asks. “The vampire and the

shape-shifter? They heard everything Shelly told them?”

I don’t like what he’s implying. “They’re our allies, man. Anyway,

I figured something out.”

I take five index cards and flip them over to the unlined side. I

tape them in a row on the Command Central wall. “We’ve found Shelly in

Central Park, but that’s been her home for a long time. She hasn’t

moved anywhere. Unlike the others. Kurt, what do you know of the

oracle from the Vanishing Cove? The one you were expecting to see?”

“Her name is Lucine,” he says.

If Shelly is the youngest, I’m afraid to see what the oldest one

of the oracles looks like. But when I start to write her name down,

Kurt hops off his seat and takes the marker from me. He draws the

outline of a mermaid with a split tail.

“She’s the Starbucks mermaid?”

Kurt ignores me and labels her name and location.

“Then, there’s Chrysilla, the nautilus maid.” I draw a spiral and

label her as well, leaving us with two blank cards. “If Chrysilla came

from Eternity, that means one of her sisters took her place.” I put

the cap back on the marker, expecting them to start shouting out

compliments for my brilliance. “Greg was my only chance because that’s

where he got this water. That’s why I was healing so quickly. Only now

he’s gotten blown up.”

Mom and Kurt exchange skeptical glances.

“What?”

“It’s just-” Mom says, like the time she confessed there was no

Santa. “There is no place called Eternity. It’s a state of mind.”

I shake my head. “How do you explain my hand? Kurt, you were

there. You saw Greg change after he drank that stuff.”

“Perhaps it was something else,” Kurt says. “Lady Maia is right.

I’ve never heard of such a place.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Darling, you don’t understand. What Kurt is trying to say is

perhaps Shelly’s throwing you off. You can’t trust them all.”

I throw my hands in the air, exasperated. “Who am I supposed to

trust? Kurt? You? I have nothing else to go on except for riddles,

because that’s what you people are good at, right? Riddles and

prophecies. I have Nieve trying to take over the seas. Merrows killing

on my own shore. Oracles swapping places. And I’m the one who has to

fix it. Because of you, Mom. Because you never told me what I was.

Don’t you see? I am what I am because of you, and if I fail I have

nowhere, nowhere else to go.”

As soon as I say it, I wish I could take it back. My mom’s face is

crushed.

Kurt shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

“I never ,” Mom says, “ never wanted you to get hurt.”

I laugh. In the last couple of days, I’ve been injured more than

during the last twelve years of school sports combined. “I’m on the

right track. I know I am. If you guys don’t want to help, there are

plenty of other mermaids who will.”

“Like Gwenivere,” Kurt says.

I’m about to argue, but someone knocks on the door and I run to

answer it. I need to calm down. Never in my whole life have I yelled

at my mother that way. I can’t even look at her.

Even before I reach for the doorknob, I know it’s her. Her

greeting is muffled as I pull Layla into a hug. She resists at first,

putting her arms up, but then she relaxes and wraps her arms around

me.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers.

“Thalia says you were put in the ground.” I change the subject.

“Yep. Six feet deep.” She looks over my shoulder and, as if

sensing I don’t want to go back into that kitchen, pulls me out into

the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I came to get you. Coach called an emergency meeting.” She traces

her finger on the pearly scar of Sarabell’s teeth marks. “And it’s

Ryan’s memorial.”

“I have to find-”

“I know.” She rests her hand on my chest and I shut up. “I know

you have the championship and it ends in four days. But when it’s

over, you’ll hate yourself for not-”

“For not what?”

“Not saying good-bye to your old life.”

Even before we climb the steep steps leading to the gothic

building that is Thorne Hill High School, I can smell it.

Dirt , covering my body like I’m digging into wet earth with bare

hands.

At the school entrance, beneath the archway statues of two

clashing angels, is a massive flower wreath with Ryan’s graduation

photo at the center. Thick white candles drip on the floor like waxy

tears.

I realize that the dirty smell of guilt is coming from me.

If I’d told him my secret, maybe he’d still be alive. He would’ve

known to run, to hide. I pull out an action figure I’ve had since

fifth grade-Captain America with his tiny toy shield. The year he

transferred from Nowhere, North Carolina, with his side-swept blond

hair and big gray eyes and honest face-well, it was pretty annoying.

So we called him that until it stopped being a joke and just became

part of his shtick. Ryan was better than the rest of us. Better than

me.

All around and along the wreath are tiny things left by the rest

of the school. Amid all the roses and daisies are a cluster of

forget-me-nots from Mrs. Santos’s garden and an Italian horn Angelo

had always promised to give him but just couldn’t part with.

Kurt shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t know to bring something.”

“It’s okay,” I say.

He shakes his head, frustrated. “It isn’t.”

I thought I’d feel weird coming back, but despite the silence in

the halls, I think I still fit right in. The tension is familiar,

clinging with loss, excitement, hormones, and anxiety. Yep, still the

average high school.

Ryan didn’t have a funeral in Brooklyn. As soon as his parents got

his body back from the morgue, they moved back to North Carolina,

convinced of the dangers of the big city.

Flanked by Layla and Kurt, we file into the auditorium, which is

full to the brim with kids.

“Are you okay?” Layla asks, crossing her fingers with mine.

“No.” I hate the way the swim team is looking at me. The day I

left for the Vanishing Cove, we had our final meet. We wouldn’t have

swum, not without Ryan, but I’m their captain. Was their captain. “I

shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, you should.”

For a second, Angelo stares at me with that way he has, like he

can’t decide if he’s going to deck you in the face or shake your hand.

Then again, Angelo doesn’t shake hands. Everything about him-his messy