Daphne and Marina didn’t use their hands to swim. Their tailfins waved in smooth arcs, propelling us downward. “Humans are a bad influence,” Daphne muttered. “Next she’ll be strapping heels on her fins and wearing a corset.”

“It’s sad how humans torture their women.” Marina shot me a reproving look. “Really, what do you have to say for yourself?”

I said the only thing I could, which was “Mmrrr mm eemm mm!” It meant “Let me go no,” only it didn’t come out sounding that way, and they kept dragging me deeper. The water was warmer and clearer than I expected, or maybe it just seemed that way because I was a mermaid. I could see so much. Bits of seaweed drifted peacefully in the current. Gray fish lumbered by without paying any attention to us.

Below in the distance, a huge rock city spread out along the bottom of the ocean. Hundreds of buildings—some made from tan stone, others from black, orange, and white—glistened in the streams of sunlight that fingered down from the surface. A white castle sat in the middle of the buildings, its rock towers piercing the water. Gleaming blue flags waved lazily back and forth from its spires. It was probably my mermaid home.

I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. My lungs ached. The remaining air went from my mouth in a rush of fleeing bubbles, and I gasped inward. I expected pain, choking, something. Instead, breathing the water felt like breathing air.

I gulped in and out several times, amazed and relieved. I wasn’t going to drown.

As intriguing as the city below me looked, I didn’t want to go there. I was afraid if I agreed to any of this, I would be stuck in the fairy tale forever. Perhaps if I explained the situation to the other mermaids, they could help me. Maybe they knew how to get a hold of fairy godmothers.

“Listen, I don’t know how to say this . . .” I glanced up at the distant water of the surface. It seemed like a dark blue sky, cloudless and shining. “This is all a big mistake.”

“I’m glad you finally realize that.” Marina kept pulling me toward the white castle, her tailfin effortlessly pumping back and forth. “If Dad finds out you were prince-gazing again, he’ll go tidal.”

Daphne nodded, brown hair streaming behind her. “Remember how he stormed around, throwing waves everywhere after he heard that song you wrote about the prince?”

Marina pursed her lips at the memory as though it tasted sour. “We were picking palm trees out of the coral gardens for days.”

“What song?” I’d written more than one song about Jason Prescott, but I’d never told anyone they were about him. Had Chrissy known somehow? Had she used my songs in this fairy tale?

“What song?” Marina repeated incredulously.

Daphne gave an extra hard tailfin kick and sang: If I had feet, I’d use them for pace’n, because I’m so crazy about my Prince Jason.

I had definitely never written those lyrics. I still blushed though, because the Little Mermaid version of me had. It was probably a bad sign that I was pathetic in more than one world. “You don’t understand,” I said over the next stanza.

His eyes are so dreamy, I’d love to be his queenie.

“I’m a human who was accidentally turned into a mermaid.”

At least I hoped it was an accident. I hoped Chrissy wasn’t so completely bad at granting wishes she thought a wish for a beautiful singing voice was a request to live out a Disney movie.

Daphne slowed down enough to regard me. “Great. She must have been in the sun too long. Now she’s delirious.”

“No,” Marina said with a frustrated sigh. “She’s in love. It makes girls act like they’re delirious.”

On our way to the city, we swam toward a large school of silver fish. They turned to go around us, prodded by two larger, yipping fish with long whiskers. I hadn’t realized fish could yip, and I stared at their mottled brown bodies and flapping fins.

This place was so odd.

“Ho there, princesses!” A merman with a braided black beard appeared behind the school, carrying a hooked shepherd staff. His tailfin was curved and gray like a dolphin, and he wore a bag strapped to his waist. He swam casually in our direction, giving us a quick bow of deference. “Are you checking on your father’s herds?”

“No,” Marina answered with a dainty wave of her free hand. “We’re just out taking a morning swim.”

“Fine day for it.” The merman noticed my sisters’ grip on my arms but didn’t comment on it. He motioned to one of the yipping fish, and it directed the rest of the school to swim by.

When we’d passed them, Marina looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you think he suspects anything?”

Daphne snorted. “You mean from the girl who sang, Pace’n Over Jason a few days ago and is now being hauled home by her sisters? No, I doubt he suspects a thing.”

I tried again to explain my situation again. “You see, I made a wish. The magic must not have worked right—”

“Magic?” Marina cut me off, alarmed.

Daphne stopped swimming and drew herself up so that we were vertical. Her hair swirled upward like the flame of a candle, and her tailfin twitched in agitation. “You didn’t make a deal with the sea witch, did you? You know magic causes nothing but trouble.”

Yeah. I was beginning to realize that.

Marina put her hand to her lips and blinked in worry. “You’ll end up as sea foam before your time. Tell me you didn’t bargain with the witch.”

“I didn’t.” This was true. I’d signed a contract with a fairy.

Satisfied, Daphne and Marina pulled me toward the city again. “If you really care about your prince,” Daphne said, “the best thing you can do is stay away from him. Even if you found some magical way to bring him here without drowning him, well . . . how do I put this delicately?” Without attempting to be delicate, she said, “Someone would kill him.”

“Dad especially would kill him,” Marina agreed. “Humans are just a bunch of nasty fish thieves.”

Daphne lowered her voice. “Dad would’ve already locked you up somewhere, except we told him the reason you keep going to the surface is so you can practice luring ships to their doom.”

Luring ships to their doom? Seriously? I’d always thought mermaids were nice creatures.

“Which reminds me,” Marina put in cheerfully. “Dad is having one of his advisors look into the Siren Foreign Exchange Student Program for you.”

“Your singing is amazing,” Daphne added with a note of pride. “You’d make a great Siren.”

In Greek mythology, Sirens were creatures who sang so irresistibly that sailors blindly followed their voices. The sailors then crashed their ships onto the rocks and drowned.

I decided right then not to tell my mermaid sisters I was actually human. Even if I found a way to convince them it was the truth, I doubted they would take the news well.

As we drew closer to the city, I saw street-like swimming channels twisting through the buildings. Kelp as big as trees grew everywhere, their broad leaves swished rhythmically, bending and swaying in the currents. Merfolk in an assortment of colors swam through the channels. Several glided slowly, talking together. Others shot through the water with eel-like grace. A few mermen rode near the castle in dolphin-harnessed chariots. They wore turtle-shell armor around their chests and carried spears.

Curved white lampposts lined the street, each with a large luminescent jellyfish tethered at the end, drifting up and down. As I swam past one, I realized the posts were bones—probably rib bones of a whale.

Even though I was seeing all of this, I could hardly believe it. Were there mermaids in my time period too? Could there be?

Daphne and Marina swam toward a window in one of the upper turrets of the castle. Once there, they deposited me inside the room. A large stone bed sat in one corner with puffy anemone pillows and a blanket made of woven seaweed. Elaborately-carved stone chairs sat at the other end of the room, each with thick algae for cushions. A chandelier made of small glowing jellyfish was tethered loosely to the ceiling. They drifted this way and that as they swam.