day is bright with white sun, and I pull myself one more time. The top

of this cliff is flat. Chipped stones litter the ground, and I inch my

way up.

“I made it!” It. It. It. “Take that motherf-”

Hands, wet and fluid, press down on mine.

I lose my footing and bang my knee, dangling off the side of the

cliff.

“What are you doing?” I yell.

Grumble’s face is in his water form right in front of me. His

breath is like wet soil. “Getting rid of your fears, Land Prince.”

“Don’t-” Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

His fingers are solid around mine, crushing, lifting, and pushing

me off the edge.

I scream for hours.

At least, when you’re falling off a cliff as tall as the Empire

State Building with nothing to cushion your fall, it feels like hours.

Perhaps I should rethink words like “forever.”

I feel like I’m sifting through the air, screaming until my throat

is raw. I hate this. I hate Grumble. I hate, hate, hate heights.

But the one thing I hate more than this free fall is that I lost

control. I let him get to me.

With all the strength I can muster, I flip myself over, facing the

oncoming ground, my arms waving like a flightless bird. I can see

myself in the reflection of the ground, and as it comes closer and

closer, I’m relieved it’s water.

This is not to say that belly flopping doesn’t hurt. I choke hard,

swallowing a mouthful before my gills flare open.

This is not the ocean.

This is not a pool.

But I taste the salt and I’m overcome with a loss I can’t shake.

Images appear in the water-faces that seem like ghosts made of light.

I kick up, running my hands along the stone wall to find some sort of

opening. I’m inside a sphere. A goddamn fishbowl.

“Mom?”

I see her. Her stomach is unnaturally big-I know she’s pregnant,

but I left hours ago and she had only just found out. I’m going to be

a brother. My folks are going to get another chance. She’s trying to

swim up. Her red hair floats around her, and I see my dad. His glasses

float off his face and into the dark. I scream for them, but when I

swim, they get farther away. Someone yells my name, and I flip around

and swim to the other end of the sphere. I push my hands on it.

Then I’m surrounded by familiar faces-Angelo, Bertie, Coach. They

materialize around me holding their necks, their cheeks full of air.

It isn’t real.

I repeat that over and over, but being surrounded by my drowning

parents shakes me. It’s like I’m retreating into a part of myself,

shrinking into a useless, helpless kid.

Then it happens. My gills shut. My legs rip, bloody and raw, and I

join them. I join my family in drowning.

There’s got to be a switch somewhere. Then the bottom becomes

black, a void sucking everyone downward.

I hold my breath until I’m sure I’m blue. I grab my mother’s hand,

and she, in turn, holds on to my dad’s. I try to pull them up, against

the current taking us into that darkness.

“Let go, Tristan,” she says.

I shake my head. Her hand feels so real in mine.

“Please,” she whispers.

But I hold on. I hold on to my mother’s hand as my vision starts

to blur because my fear isn’t falling. It isn’t the dark or heights or

Nieve. My fear is this.

“Let go, darling.”

“I can’t!”

“You have to.”

It’s not her, but it’s her voice, soothing and familiar, singing

to me. And I remember, before I was chosen, before I was grown, when

she held me and pushed away the darkness that crept in my room. I

remember that my dad always said her voice could change the world. Her

voice made everything feel right.

And so I close my eyes and let go.

As soon as I let go of my mother’s hand, I get pulled upward until

I breach the water’s surface. I float on the river by the inner ring.

The air is sweet with pollen and laughter.

My body is frozen. I don’t want to even paddle. I want to let the

river take me away.

“Cousin!” Brendan yells. He walks to the bank and extends a hand

to pull me out. “You’ve found the falls.”

I make to run my hands though my hair but then remember. Plus side

of a buzz cut is less time air-drying. Brendan pats a dry hand on my

wet back.

“Grumble threw me off a cliff.” He did something to me. My mind is

a mess of thoughts and voices and the dark shadows he keeps rubbing in

my face. Those aren’t his fault though. They must have always been

there.

“Ah, spirit quests,” Brendan says. “My father made me try once.

Couldn’t get over the first hurdle. But d’you know what I’ve decided?”

“What?”

“I was never lost. My father always told me I could do great

things, if only I changed my ways. Yet, deep in my heart I know all

the great things I’m meant to do in my life, and I can only accomplish

them as the terrifyingly handsome merman you see before you.”

I shake my head, though I can’t help but laugh. “So I’m lost?”

“No. You’re just a very long way from home.”

“At least you’re having fun,” I mutter.

“Worry not, dear cousin.” He taps his temple, stepping close

enough so that I can hear him whisper. “You carry out your mission.

Leave the rest to us.”

He turns and, with a flourish of his hand, directs me to the falls

he’s been talking about. The green grass is lush and radiant, and the

flowers bloom with light. Strange glass animals perch on boulders.

Naked and see-through guys and girls jump from the top part of a

waterfall. From this far I can see black marks of tattoos, and I

wonder if they’re anything like the trident on my spine.

Dylan is kissing the guy who challenged him at the armory. And

then it hits me.

“Oh,” I say. “Oh! That’s what he meant by stethos!”

Brendan elbows me.

“Sorry, I just put two and eight together.”

“You were right, Tristan,” Brendan says, resting his hands on his

hip bones. His eyes are closed and his chest expands with deep

breaths. “There is something about this place.”

The soft spray from the waterfall feels nice. At the bottom of a

fall, the river forms a small basin where the young girls and guys

swim lazily, freely.

“The Goddess Falls are the most beautiful falls on this plane or

any other. And there are some truly beautiful places in this world.

There’s a lagoon in Galapagos that is the closest thing to paradise

I’ve ever seen. But this…” he says, his face full of wonder as he runs

to his new paradise. “This is better!” he shouts.

Brendan grabs a blue-haired girl around the waist. She stands on

her toes, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him. Then

together they jump off. She lets go, dissolving into a splash. He

flails like a baby bat that can’t control its wings. But it doesn’t

seem to matter because he bops back out of the water unscathed, with

the blue-haired girl attached to him once again.

I look at the waterfall. What makes it so much better than any

other place? What makes it so special? It’s not very high-certainly

not after the cliff Grumble pushed me off. But the thrill is not about

the height. It’s about the redheaded merman who chases them off the

ledge.

Fine, I’m jealous.

Not of the blue-haired girl.

Not of my cousin Brendan.

Not exactly.

It’s all of them, really. I’ve never been this-alone. And with my

girl being held hostage by my enemy, yeah, I feel pretty damn shitty.

I want to be mad at Brendan because he’s so happy when we’ve had

so many of our friends die. But maybe there’s a reason merpeople don’t