Just for Fins

by Tera Lynn Childs

  The crisis facing the mer world isn’t separated by imaginary borders on the seafloor. It affects us all. And it’s going to take all of us working together to make a change.

  Chapter 7

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Shannen’s voice is a little higher than usual as she buckles her seat belt.

  “Absolutely,” I lie. “I’ve been practicing.”

  She gives me a skeptical look and tugs her belt tight. I flash her a sunny smile and turn the key in the ignition. In truth, I’ve only had the car—my car—a few days and haven’t had much time for driving lessons. But I’ve been watching Aunt Rachel for years. How hard can it be?

  “I have to be better at driving a car than a motorcycle,” I say as I put the car into reverse.

  Despite Quince’s diligent effort over the past few weeks, the best I’ve managed on Princess is getting her started and sputtering forward until she dies, because I don’t know how to operate the clutch properly.

  Shannen’s eyes widen.

  Okay, maybe not the best argument.

  “I made it to school just fine this morning.”

  Shannen wraps her arms around her backpack, clutching it to her chest. Clearly my reassurance hasn’t made her feel any better about my driving ability. I will just have to show her my skill.

  Watching carefully over my shoulder, I back out of the spot in the remote corner of the school parking lot—as far from other cars as possible. When I’m clear of the lamppost, I shift into first.

  “See,” I say, grinning, “I’ve totally—”

  As I release the brake, the car lurches forward, jerks back, and dies.

  “Damselfish.” Guess I released the clutch instead of the brake. If I could just get this clutch thing figured out, I’d be an ace driver. I don’t have a problem operating the one on a wakemaker back home, so I should be able to do it on land.

  I quickly correct my mistake, and soon I’m driving us out of the parking lot and down the street toward home.

  “I’ve got it now,” I insist.

  Shannen whimpers as I slam to a halt at the next stop sign. It’s fine. That’s what seat belts are for.

  “Thanks for offering to help,” I say, trying to get her mind off my driving. “I’ve never done anything like this before and—”

  “Lily!”

  A woman on a bicycle darts out in front of me, and I have to swerve to keep from splatting her onto the sidewalk. My tires squeal to a stop. As my heart freaks out in my chest, I turn to glare at the dangerous cyclist.

  Completely unaffected by the near accident, the bicycle rider—a woman with short brown hair—turns and looks at me. And smiles.

  “Oh no,” I whisper.

  “What?” Shannen asks, eyes clenched shut. “Did you kill her?”

  I frown at her. “No,” I grumble. “I didn’t even touch her.”

  “Then what?”

  I suck in a deep breath as the woman throws me a jaunty wave before continuing down the street toward my house.

  “I didn’t hit her,” I say, a knot tightening in my stomach. “I know her.”

  The bicycle is leaning against my front porch when I lurch to a stop against—okay, on top of—the curb. I cut the engine, grab my bag from the backseat, and stomp up the driveway to the kitchen door. I think Shannen is frozen solid after my race home. I’m not worried about her right now. She’ll come inside when she’s ready.

  “Calliope,” I call out as I fling open the door. “Where are you? Calliope!”

  Dosinia appears in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. “Do you have to shout?”

  I glare at her. “What are you doing home?” I demand. “Aren’t you usually cozying up to Brody at the Five and Bean after school?”

  “We got our lattes to go.” She crosses to the fridge and takes out the pitcher of lemonade. “Aren’t you usually failing miserably at riding a motorcycle after school?”

  I glare at her back as she pours lemonade into a clean glass. She and I don’t hate each other as much as we used to—and not just because she’s bonded to my former crush and actually seems happy for once—but she still knows how to push my buttons.

  Right now I don’t have time to trade jellyfish barbs with her.

  “Where is she?” I demand.

  Doe turns to face me and jerks her caramel-blond head in the direction of the living room. “Is she always so . . . peppy?”

  I lift my shoulders in a heavy sigh. “Yes,” I say. “Always.”

  “Hi, Shannen,” Doe says, looking over my shoulder. “Got a ride home with Lily, did you?”

  I turn and see Shannen, wide-eyed, nodding her head.

  “I wasn’t that bad,” I insist. Shannen’s eyes get even wider. Fine, I was that bad. But I had my reasons. “You settle in at the table,” I suggest, hoping that giving her something to focus on will make her forget our near-death experience with the garbage truck. I did stop in time. “I have to go find out why she’s here; then we can get started.”

  Shannen doesn’t respond, but she drops her backpack on the table and sits in the nearest chair. I’m not sure which is more disconcerting: her blank-eyed stare or the fact that she doesn’t immediately open her backpack and start in on homework.

  “Here, take this to our guest,” Doe offers, pushing the lemonade into my hand. “I’ll fix another glass for Shannen.”

  I’m too distracted to worry about Shannen’s shock or wonder at Doe’s uncharacteristic generosity. I nod in thanks and head into the living room.

  Calliope Ebbsworth is sitting on Aunt Rachel’s floral sofa next to Brody, reading a scroll of kelpaper that reaches all the way to the floor, with Prithi purring contentedly in her lap. My first real interaction with Calliope—the foremost mer couples counselor in Thalassinia—was when Quince and I were accidentally bonded while I thought I was still in love with Brody. Daddy made us go through the motions with Calliope to make sure I really, really, really wanted to break the bond with Quince.

  At the time, I did. But her methods definitely helped me see the truth about Quince and helped me realize my own feelings for him, feelings I’d never even let myself imagine.

  Why she is here now, when I’m perfectly happy with Quince—bond or no—is confusing. Maybe she’s here to counsel Dosinia and Brody. Or maybe she wants me to do some exercises to make sure my bond-in-name-only with Tellin doesn’t muddy my emotional waters with Quince.

  “Hello, Calliope,” I say, walking into the living room.

  “Princess Waterlily,” she replies with a grin. She releases the top of the kelpaper scroll, and it rolls down to join the rest of itself on the floor. Prithi startles and makes a dash for the stairs. “Just the mergirl I wanted to see.”

  There goes the hope she’s here for Doe and Brody.

  “I’m also the mergirl who almost ran you over with her car.” I hand her the lemonade before taking a seat in the recliner next to the sofa. “You have to be careful on your bicycle.”

  “Oh, you know.” She waves her hand at me like it’s no big deal. “A fish on a bicycle.”

  She laughs at her own joke, and I wait while she takes a long drink.

  “Shannen might never recover,” Doe says. She crosses to the sofa and squeezes in between Brody and Calliope. “You’ve scarred her for life.”

  Brody chuckles as he hands Doe one of the coffee cups he’s holding.

  I glare at her.

  She takes a sip of her latte and slips her free hand into Brody’s. When he makes a swoony smile at her, I turn my attention back to Calliope.

  “What’s going on, Calliope?” I ask, hoping this will be quick and easy so I can get to work with Shannen on developing the survey I’m going to take to the mer kingdoms. “Why are you here?”

  “Can’t a mermaid come visit her princess without a reason? Your hair is looking particularly lovely today. Have you done something to it? Is it shorter?”

  “Calliope . . .”

  Her
chipper expression turns serious.

  “Well . . .” She glances down at the kelpaper scroll at her feet. “It seems there is a bit of a legal knot surrounding your bond to Prince Tellin.”

  The muscles in my shoulders tighten. “What kind of knot?” I demand. “Bonds in name only happen all the time in the mer world. I know I’m not the first.”

  “Certainly not,” she says with a sympathetic smile, “but you are the first in recent memory to do so openly, and with a human mate already at your side. It is a unique situation.”

  “Okay,” I say, really not liking the sound of this. “What does that mean?”

  She sets her glass on the table and grabs the scroll off the floor. “At your father’s request, his advisers and I have been reviewing the ancient laws of royal bonding. It seems our ancient mer founders foresaw such a possibility and set up a kind of—” She clears her throat. “Requirement.”

  “What kind of requirement?” Her avoidance is making me all kinds of nervous. “More bond counseling? Another couples challenge?”

  Thinking back to the time Quince and I spent on Isla Amorata, I don’t count that as much of a punishment. We could use some romantic alone time on a tropical island.

  “No, dear. Unfortunately it requires a great deal more than that.”

  Is that sympathy I hear in her voice? My hands start shaking.

  “What?” I ask, my voice softer. “Just tell me, Calliope.”

  “It seems the ancient law requires your human to . . .” She shakes her head. “He must pass the Trial of Truth.”

  Doe gasps.

  “What?” Brody asks.

  I suck in a tight breath. The Trial of Truth? I’ve heard rumors of this all my life, but I never believed it was really real. I never believed anyone would actually have to face that.

  Especially not anyone I love.

  The Trial of Truth is supposed to be the ultimate test of a human’s love for a merperson. In order to prove his worth, the human must pass three ridiculously hard tests, tasks that are nearly impossible if the human does not have the strength of true love driving him.

  The thought of Quince going through that makes me nauseous.

  The thought of him failing is even worse.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “There must be a way around it. Can’t Daddy do something? Make some royal decree or pass a new law?”

  “You know that isn’t possible.” Calliope inches forward on the couch, closer to me, and rests her hand on my knee. “The ancient law is immutable.”

  “What’s the Trial of Truth?” Brody asks.

  Doe sets her coffee on the table and whispers, “I’ll explain later.”

  My mind races. I try to remember everything I know about ancient law and mer bonding. But the truth is I’m not an expert in these things. Maybe if I’d stayed in Thalassinia instead of living on land for nearly four years, if I’d gone through all the royal training I should have gone through before my eighteenth birthday, then I would have been able to avoid this.

  Of course, then I never would have met Quince, and he wouldn’t be facing this anyway.

  I force my shoulders to relax, and I take a calming breath. There’s nothing I can do about the past now. I don’t have any regrets—although a small part of me really wishes I’d never severed the bond with Quince. Things would be so much easier for both of us right now if we were legally bonded.

  But no, I know why I made my choice. I refuse to tie Quince to me, to my location and my body form, for the rest of his life. He has his mom to look out for and a future on land. He needs to be free to come and go from the sea, while I will be spending more and more time in Thalassinia, fulfilling my royal duties.

  I hope Quince will come with me as much as he can, but it needs to be his choice.

  “Okay, Calliope,” I say, steeling myself. “We can do this.”

  “Of course you can,” she insists.

  “Quincy is strong,” Doe offers. “If anyone can pass the Trial of Truth, he can.”

  I smile gratefully. My baby cousin might be a brat and a pain in the tailfin most of the time, but she knows how to step up when I need her.

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Brody demands. “Why are you three acting like someone died?”

  Doe leans close and whispers in his ear. As she explains the situation to him, his eyes widen and he gives me a pitying look.

  “It’ll be fine,” I say, trying to stay positive.

  Doe is right. Quince is strong, and so is his love. He will pass these tests, I know he will. That doesn’t mean they won’t be hard and I won’t worry about them, but it will be fine.

  “Hey, Lily?”

  I turn at the sound of Shannen’s voice. The terror is gone from her eyes, and she looks like her normal, down-to-business self again.

  “Do you want to work on this tomorrow?” She glances at Calliope and back at me. “If you have stuff to do . . .”

  “No,” I say, eager to get to work on the other big problem in my life. I can’t do anything about the trial right now, but I can make progress on the survey. I look back at Calliope. “We’re done here, right?”

  “Yes.” Calliope gathers her scrolls into her bag. “Now it is just a matter of waiting for the call to the first test.”

  I join Shannen at the kitchen table, where she has pens and notepaper laid out and her laptop open, ready to work. When I told Shannen about Miss Molina’s advice, she volunteered to help me create the survey to make documenting the environmental problems easier. She’s a whiz at anything that involves research and organization, so I really appreciate her help. If only she were a whiz at the mer kingdoms of the Western Atlantic, too.

  Calliope walks through on her way to the door. “I really am sorry I had to be the bearer of this news, Princess,” she says. “You and Quince deserve some peace and happiness.”

  “I know.”

  “And I really do love your hair.” She smiles. “The blue is a lovely shade.”

  I smile back. “Thanks.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, I—” I shake my head, my gaze drifting to the work before me on the table. Speaking of experts in all things mer world . . . “Actually,” I say, looking up at her expectantly, “I could use your advice on something else. Can you stay for a while?”

  She immediately drops her bag to the floor and slips into the chair next to me. “Of course. What can I do?”

  Chapter 8

  “You’re nuts,” Dosinia snaps. “You need to get the support of Glacialis first. Queen Dumontia is the most respected ruler in the Western Atlantic.”

  I roll my eyes. “Glacialis is too far away,” I say, for what feels like the tenth time. “It will take most of a day to even get there. If I start with her this weekend, then that will be the only thing I accomplish.”

  “Exactly,” Calliope says, coming to my defense. “If Lily begins closer to home, in Trigonum and Desfleurelle and Antillenes, she can speak with three kingdoms right from the start.”

  “But without Glacialis, she might not get their support,” Dosinia returns.

  Prithi can’t decide which mermaid to love on. She moves in a triangle, weaving around my ankles, then Doe’s and Calliope’s, and back to mine. She must be in kitty-cat heaven.

  Shannen and Brody exchange a look across the kitchen table as the three of us mergirls erupt in an animated debate. We’re so fixed on talking over each other, jabbing our fingers at the map of the Western Atlantic laid out across the table, that I don’t hear the door open.

  “I’m just trying to save her from looking stupid later,” Doe argues.

  “And I’m trying to help her make the most of her time,” Calliope returns.

  “I never know what I’m going to find when I walk through this door.”

  I look up at the sound of Quince’s voice. “Hi—”

  “She might as well tear up the surveys right now,” Doe continues, “if she’s goi
ng to start with those lesser kingdoms.”

  I throw a warning glare at Dosinia. “They are not lesser,” I grind out. “They are smaller and not as wealthy as some of the others.”

  Dosinia crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips. “I think the word you’re looking for,” she says defiantly, “is lesser.”

  I growl, debating whether crawling over the table to strangle her would count as mermicide. Surely a jury of anyone who’s ever met my bratty cousin would understand.

  I roll my eyes—again—and am about to start in on her—again—when Quince notices our visitor.

  “Calliope?” He throws me a questioning look. “What brings you to our fair shores?”

  Everyone around the table suddenly clams up. Quince walks behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. He starts rubbing, like he can sense how tense the situation is making me.

  “What?” he asks. “Bad news?”

  I try to force myself to relax, to urge him to relax, too. The tension swirling around the room doesn’t help. I catch Doe’s eye and lift my eyebrows in a suggestive gesture. Amazingly, she gets—and takes—the hint.

  “Brody, didn’t you need some help with your econ homework?” Doe asks.

  She reaches down and scoops Prithi into her arms—I knew she was developing a soft spot for the cat.

  Brody shoves back from the table. “Oh, right. Yeah, let’s go work on that.”

  In a flash, they’re both gone.

  “I need to get going,” Shannen says, stuffing her laptop into her backpack. “I have a ton of calculus homework to do. You’d think, with there only being a couple weeks left in school, Mr. Kingsley would lay off, but I think it’s his mission to keep us drowning in busywork right up until graduation.”

  She heaves her backpack onto her shoulder, gives me a sympathetic look, then says good-bye and slips out the kitchen door.

  With the table empty except for me and Calliope, Quince drops casually into the seat Shannen vacated, resting his arm on the back of my chair.