He didn’t blink, in fact his head squished backward like he was trying to shrink into his shell.

This was not a reaction to my words. A shadow had blocked the light coming in from the window. Someone was there. Probably my guard. And he was most likely wondering why I was having a conversation with my table. I was going to end up with Dr. Gills for sure.

I turned to face him and stopped short. Instead of a merman, a huge squid was squeezing through my window.

Chapter 5

Maybe I was still jumpy because I hadn’t fully adjusted to my mermaid surroundings, but having a giant squid invade my bedroom didn’t seem like a good thing. I let out a startled scream, dropped the fish, and shot upward. This might have been a good way to escape if it hadn’t been for the ceiling. I thunked my head into the stone there.

By the time my brain processed that I should have dashed out the door, the squid had slithered inside. He was enormous, eight feet tall at least, and coming toward me with unfurling tentacles. Each arm was covered in rows of suction cups; made for grabbing things.

I trembled and edged toward the door. Slow movements were best, weren’t they?

The squid’s overly-large black eyes surveyed me with interest. His beak looked like it could snap a hand off.

What, I wondered, was the point of having a guard watch my window if a huge squid could get by him? How did someone not see an eight-foot-long sea creature swimming toward my window?

I decided it would take too long to open the door. I should go around the squid and dash out the window—or maybe I should just throw my turtle table in the squid’s direction and hope squids preferred shelled creatures to mermaids.

I was inching toward the window, when I noticed one of the squid’s reaching tentacles held an envelope. There were several odd things about the envelope—odd beyond the fact a large squid clutched it. The envelope looked like it came from my century, it wasn’t soggy, and my name was written on the front.

Was this how mermaids delivered mail? I drifted downward, warily keeping my eyes on the squid’s still-waving tentacles. Either Chrissy or a mermaid must have sent it, which meant the squid was tame and wouldn’t eat me. I supposed that was the reason the courtyard guard hadn’t stopped it from coming inside. He was used to squid post. I put my hand to my chest, waiting for my heart to resume its normal rate.

The squid, determined to deliver the letter, advanced toward me, arm fluttering the letter in my direction.

I plucked the envelope from his tentacle and hoped he would leave now that his task was done. Instead, he hovered in front of me. Either his arms were drifting in a current, or he had no concept of personal space because his tentacles kept brushing against me, wavering like streamers in a strong wind.

I backed away, opened the envelope, and unfolded the letter. In a bouncy sort of handwriting, it read:

Sadie,

I hope your first day as a mermaid is everything you dreamed it would be!

Oh yeah, I’d always dreamed of abandoning my own culture in favor of dwelling in the bottom of the ocean and eating raw fish. And the squid that kept frisking me—bonus.

I pushed one of the squid’s arms off my waist and kept reading.

The fairy godmothers’ guild has proudly served the Deserving Mortals Community for more than fifty centuries, and each of us strives for excellence in meeting our charges’ magical needs. However, as the ocean depths are out of the realm of forest fairies, I can’t visit you in your new home, despite the fact that you keep sending me messages, like, every two minutes.”

Even though I moved away from the squid, he followed me. His arms fluttered over me like he was trying to brush the water away from my skin. I slapped a tentacle off my shoulder and kept reading.

When you’re ready to discuss your next wish, simply call from the surface and either Clover or I will attend to your request.

Remember, this is your time to make a big splash!

Magic is my business,

Chrysanthemum Everstar

The surface. I needed to go there so Chrissy could fix this mess. But how could I leave the city when I was under guard? My family wasn’t about to let me go off by myself.

I untangled one of the squid’s tentacles from where it was stuck in my hair. The clown fish that had been darting around my anemones were suspiciously absent. I hoped the squid hadn’t eaten them.

PS In case you didn’t know, mermaids of good breeding always tip a postal squid with food.

Well, that probably explained why the squid was still hanging around trying to eat my hairpiece. I swam to my lunch plate which now lay on the floor. The turtle had abandoned it and was hiding underneath my bed. I could see the tips of his green flippers sticking out one side. Coward.

I kept half of the fish slices in one hand and tossed the rest to the squid. Several of his arms shot out, grabbed the slices, and brought them to his beak. While he devoured the fish, another arm slid, snake-like, over my hand to retrieve the food there.

It’s hard to tell where to look while addressing a squid. I focused on his huge black eyes instead of his waving tentacles. “If you want the rest of the fish, you have to do something for me. Do you understand?”

He dropped his tentacles away from my hand, so I figured that was a yes.

“I want to swim out of here without being seen by the merman who’s watching my window. Can I swim beside you so you’re between me and him?”

The squid just stared at me. I don’t know why I expected a response. It was, after all, a squid. I took hold of one of his arms, up near his cone-shaped head. Either he agreed to my terms, or the way I’d grabbed him had spooked him. He shot forward toward my window.

I held on, glad he was an invertebrate. Otherwise we wouldn’t have both fit through the opening. As it was, my back banged against the window edge. I decided to give the squid the benefit of the doubt and assumed that was accidental and not an attempt to scrape me off.

The squid darted away from the castle, letting out a stream of something dark and inky that obscured us from the mermaids below.

He was either helping my cover, or he was completely freaked out that I still hung onto him. “Take me to Chrissy,” I told him. “Take me to the fairy who gave you the letter.”

He shot away from the city, the opposite direction from the way I’d come. Squids have jet propulsion, and he was using it. We rocketed so fast that the water felt like liquid silver streaming across my skin. He was either eager to take me to Chrissy or he was trying to shake me off. It was odd not knowing whether I was with the ocean version of Lassie or whether I was tormenting an innocent postal squid.

The city grew smaller and smaller, disappearing behind us into a blur of blue. Then, perhaps because I still hadn’t let go, the squid swam toward the surface. When we’d nearly reached the top, I put the rest of the food in one of his tentacles and let go of his arm. Without a backward glance, he zoomed away back into deeper water.

“Thanks!” I called after him and pushed the last few yards to the surface.

More clouds had crowded into the sky, rumbling, and restless—ready to storm. On my right side, the endless expanse of the ocean stretched out before me. To my left, I saw the back of a ship. By the looks of it, it was the same one I’d run into earlier.

Jason’s ship. It was heading toward land. The shore beyond the ship spread out in a brown line with the faint shape of trees feathering the shoreline.

Hopefully, Chrissy could hear me now. I called her name several times, waiting while choppy waves sloshed around me, lifting and lowering me. I called her name again. Nothing happened. No sparkles, no glitter. The clouds above let out a warning drizzle, a mist that dissolved into the water.