by Emma Savant
“This Evan person is a photographer,” Lorinda had said. “He was taking pictures of the skyline and the Willamette. She swam over to say hello, foolish girl, and fell head-over-tail for him.”
No one had mentioned whether he’d fallen in love with her, too. If her looks were any indication, it was a definite possibility. Her skin shone like it had been dipped in mother-of-pearl, her red hair cascaded over her bare shoulders like fire in the night, and her eyes had that fierce joy you only ever saw in mermaids, or maybe nyads who didn’t leave their rivers much.
As for why Lily thought this relationship was worth leaving her kingdom over, I couldn’t say. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of leaving the freedom of the water for some guy.
But then, I wasn’t a mermaid, and mermaids weren’t known for being the most sensible Glims around.
If nothing else, this sea princess seemed to like Humdrums, or at least one of them. Imogen had always accused me of having a “thing” for Humdrums, so maybe that would help Lily and me connect.
I pulled out my phone. A couple of taps brought up the JinxNet in a browser. Glimmering websites weren’t exactly on the internet, but the electrical impulses that made the internet possible weren’t much different from the energetic impulses that made magic work, and the two systems played so nicely together that some clever magicians had figured out how to lace magic and code together back in the late eighties. It took only a moment of searching to pull up a page on hybrid-to-human transformations.
Less than a minute of reading later, it was clear I had logistics on my side. Turning a half-human into a full human was a headache of a process, and unless we got a transformation specialist or really brilliant witch to cut us a serious deal, it would probably cost more than Lily could pay without her parents’ help.
If the other cases I’d heard about were any indication, money was always plenty motivating, even for princesses. Redirecting this mermaid to a different wish should be easy.
My phone vibrated. A text notification rolled up on the top of the screen. I barely registered Lucas’ name before my finger swapped the JinxNet out for the message, my hand acting before my mind had time to catch up.
Lucas: So… That went well.
Wondering if I’d missed the first half of our conversation, I replied with a quick What? His reply was almost instant, as if he’d typed it before I’d even responded.
Lucas: Aubrey just dumped me.
The pieces refused to connect in my head for a moment, as though the facts had to drag themselves through syrup to meet. When they did—with the words Lucas, dumped, single, Lucas single! sprinting through my mind—my eyes flew wide open.
“Do not overreact,” I ordered myself out loud. I forced my finger to take its time across the screen.
Olivia: Are you okay?
I hit Send, and the selfish part of me started mentally doing cartwheels.
Lucas Flynn was single.
It wasn’t like he was the only guy on earth I’d ever been interested in. But he was the only guy I’d been interested in lately, and we already had something going for us in the friendship department. His being impossibly attractive was the cherry on top.
But attractiveness had to come second, I reminded myself. Coming first was the fact that he was my friend, and he’d just been dumped, and that sucked.
Probably that sucked. I’d never been dumped. I’d never been in anything serious enough that its end would count as an actual breakup.
My phone buzzed and I jumped, even though I’d been expecting it.
Lucas: I don’t know.
My fingers flew over the screen.
Olivia: Do you want to go do something?
Lucas: Not really. I just wanted you to know in case I seem out of it.
I bit the inside of my check. I could be patient.
Olivia: For sure. Take care of yourself, k?
Lucas: I will. Thanks. :)
Olivia: Let me know if I can do anything. :)
He didn’t reply. But I couldn’t focus on my case for another five minutes, and my heart kept skipping beats the rest of the day.
Chapter Four
“We can’t apprehend terrorists if we don’t know who they are,” my dad snapped into the phone.
I darted past his office door. Imogen darted after me, and we raced up the stairs together to my room.
She jerked her chin back down the stairs once we were safe on the landing. “Sounds like fun.”
I rolled my eyes, though secretly I wished I could linger outside his office door and hear just a bit more of the conversation. I had a feeling he was talking about the same criminal Amani wanted me on the lookout for.
“He’s having ‘issues’ at work,” I said instead, like there was nothing to it except his boring job. “Again.”
It felt weird, not telling Imogen everything I knew. But trying to explain it all to her felt impossible.
We weren’t at a loss for things to talk about, anyway. Lucas was the first thing on both our minds. We sat cross-legged on my bed, Imogen leaning against the headboard, me leaning against one of the bottom bedposts with the wooden pillar digging into my back.
“He texted me too,” she said. “About freaking time.”
I hadn’t realized he had her number, but I was glad. If I was ever going to be with Lucas, he absolutely had to get along with Imogen. It was the only non-negotiable criteria for a boyfriend I’d ever settled on.
“I talked to him at school for a minute today and he sounds pretty down,” I said. I bit a hangnail on my thumb.
“He probably needs some space,” Imogen said. “He’s a sweet guy. A breakup’s going to be hard on him.”
Imogen dated more guys in a year than I had flirted with in my entire life. I’d only ever kissed one person, and that had been a spur-of-the-moment thing with a wizard I barely knew at a summer solstice party over a year ago. It had been a stupid way to waste a first kiss, but then, it wasn’t like anyone else was lining up.
Imogen, on the other hand, had experience. She’d gone through two boyfriends this school year, and it was only September. Imogen liked their admiration, but commitment wasn’t her thing—she’d once confessed that she liked to dump her boyfriends before they had the chance to dump her. Even so, she knew what she was talking about when it came to relationships. If she said Lucas was still upset, he was.
Imogen nudged me with her foot. “I bet you’re happy about it, though,” she said.
I flushed.
I didn’t usually get flustered over guys. But Lucas had always been different. He’d been one of my best friends at an age when I’d been convinced boys were annoying and dumb, and since he’d come back to town, I’d barely been able to stop thinking about him in the moments I could spare between my Cinderella case, Queen Amani’s invitations, and my actual real life full of school and family drama. He made me feel unsettled inside—in the nicest possible way.
It was pointless to deny anything, so I brushed her off with a shrug.
“It’s terrible,” I said.
“Whatever,” Imogen said. “Aubrey was a nightmare. He’s hurting now, but he’ll get over it when he’s with someone who’s actually nice to him.”
I blushed again.
What was wrong with me? Maybe it was too hot in here. I got up and opened the window to let in some fresh air. The herbs on my windowsill danced in the light breeze.
“You should wait awhile, though,” Imogen said as I sat back down. “You don’t want to be the rebound girl.”
I’d already thought about this. Part of me didn’t mind the idea. What could be better than to rush to his side in his hour of need and show him that not all girls were moody and demanding and totally awful?
But Imogen was right. I didn’t want his feelings for me to be just misplaced feelings for Aubrey. I knew he liked me for me—why else would he have made an effort to rekindle our friendship when he’d moved back?—but I wanted him to love me for me, too.
When I’d settled Elle’s case, I’d seen absolute love between her and Kyle. I’d never seen anything like it in real life, but he loved her. I knew I was the godmother, not the princess—but was it too much to hope that someone might come to care about me like that, too?
Imogen didn’t notice the questions racing through my blood. Having dispensed her advice, she changed the subject.
“I’m applying for next year’s Rose Galas,” she said. She bit her bottom lip and watched for my reaction.
When she was paying attention, she could feel my emotions almost as quickly as I did, so I didn’t bother to hide my surprise.
Every summer, Portland hosted an enormous festival celebrating the City of Roses, complete with a Grand Floral Parade and days of festivities. The week after, the Glimmering world always held its own discreet celebrations: the Rose Galas, a glittering series of parties held in a network of hidden ballrooms and glamoured gardens throughout the city. Out of all the events my parents had dragged Daniel and me to over the years, the Rose Galas were the only ones we looked forward to.
My favorite part was that everyone was invited—not just the Glims, but all their Humdrum relatives, too, and the few Hum politicians and community leaders who knew about us.
And at every party, the Rose Empress held court. She was always a Humdrum. That was a political decision, started by a long-ago Faerie Queen who wanted to strengthen ties between our communities. But the court was open to anyone. Most of Imogen’s sisters had been involved at some point or another.
I just hadn’t expected Imogen to join them.
“I thought you hated ‘superficial pageants,’ and Glims trying to out-Glim each other,” I said.
“I do,” Imogen said. A slight rush of embarrassment rolled off her, though her face was calm. “But, I don’t know, it feels like a good way to stay involved with the magical community.”
I laughed at the thought of Imogen needing to do something to be more of a faerie. “Did you ever get un-involved?”
She shrugged. “We’ll be graduating school soon, and I thought it might be a good opportunity to do something with the wider Glim world. It’s Glims and Hums, so I thought maybe it would be a cool thing for us to do, you know—together.”
Her face flushed and she looked down at her hands.
I snorted.
“That’s hilarious,” I said. “Can you imagine?”
“Right?” she said.
I could picture it now: Me and Imogen, all dolled up and marching in a parade like idiots, with Lucas there as one of the Humdrum guests, cheering us on. The idea made me cringe.
“Obviously you’re not going to stay involved in Glim stuff after you graduate,” Imogen said. “That would be so dumb.”
She laughed, though it sounded a little forced. Too late, I saw how red her face and neck had turned.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said. “Were you serious?”
She waved me off. “No, I was joking. Obviously. The Rose Court is awkward. I’m just doing it for the scholarship. I figure my parents can’t tell me what to do at Institut Glänzen if they’re not paying for it, right?”
“Solid plan,” I said. Her color was quickly returning to normal. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Although, I don’t know. Maybe them having a say will be a good thing. I don’t know what you’re going to do without me there to steer you straight.”
As it was, I had a feeling she was going to go through half of Europe’s eligible Glim guys within the first week.
A spark of white light shot out of her fingertips, barely visible through my glasses but glowing over the top of them. She twirled the spark absently between her fingers.
“Yeah, because going to different schools means you’re totally going to stop telling me what to do all the time,” she said.
“Right,” I said. “Because I’m the bossy one in this relationship. That’s hilarious.”
“My mom’s the bossy one. She thinks I should jump tracks and go into private consulting for royalty.” She rolled her eyes.
Consulting was a luxurious job if you could get it, but Imogen liked to be involved and on the ground. I couldn’t see her pandering to some self-important Glimmering princess who didn’t realize aristocratic titles didn’t mean what they used to.
A light knock sounded on my door. I called for whoever it was to come in, expecting Daniel. My little brother and I had formed a delicate friendship over the past few months. He occasionally invited me to his theatrical poetry performances, and I covered for him when he needed to sneak out of the house for them.
Instead, my mom stepped in, wearing a tank top and yoga pants, her dark hair pulled back in a just-casual-enough ponytail. In spite of her age and two kids, she looked like a fitness model. Even without help from the faint pink-gold beauty glamour she put on every morning, she was pretty. She had to be—she was Reginald Feye’s wife, and the wife of one of the leaders of the Grand Council of Magical Beings had to be on top of her game all the time.
“How are you girls doing?” Mom asked.
“Great, Mrs. Feye,” Imogen said brightly.
“We’re good,” I said, with less enthusiasm.
I didn’t know what to make of my mom lately. A few months ago, she’d told me she supported my decision to attend a state college. She hadn’t said a word about it since, but I hadn’t heard her talking to my dad about his alma mater in Austria lately, either, which I hoped was a good sign. That was where my dad wanted me to go: the Imperial College of Faeries in Austria, to study faerie-craft and prepare for a long, productive career in the Glimmering world.
It wasn’t going to happen.
Mom smiled at us, but her mind was somewhere else. The smile looked canned, like it had been sitting on the shelf too long.
“Everything okay?” I said.
“Sure,” she said, too quickly. “Things are great. I just wanted to make sure things are going okay for you. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Bored?”
“Nope,” I said. “We’re good.”
I glanced at Imogen for confirmation. She nodded.
A few seconds passed.
“You sure you’re okay?” I said.
The air felt awkward.
Mom shrugged and put a hand on the back of her neck.
“Yeah, of course,” she said. “Dad just had to leave for a last-minute meeting so I thought I’d see if you girls needed anything before I head to the gym.”
There was more to it than that, but I didn’t know how to ask. So I smiled and tried to send a warm gust of appreciation towards her.
“We’re great. But thanks.”
She waited a second more, then said, “Text if you need me!” and left.
Imogen waited a tactful three seconds after we heard the front door close before she let out a long breath of air.
“So,” she said, drawing the word out. “Your mom’s not doing great, then?”
I let out a long sigh of my own and leaned back. The wooden bedpost dug in hard against my spine. I wiggled side-to-side until the pole shifted enough that the pain faded to discomfort.
“I have no idea what’s going on,” I said.
I sucked on the inside of my cheek while Imogen looked at me with expectant eyes. She was familiar and safe, but even so, it was hard to tell her the truth about my family. We’d spent our whole childhoods complaining about our parents and siblings, but this was different.
“My parents aren’t doing so hot,” I finally said. “They’ve been fighting a lot lately.”
Imogen shifted, tilting her head.
“They always fight.”
“This isn’t even fighting, really,” I said. “They just don’t talk. They’ll be in the same room together and it’s like the other person’s not even there.”
She tossed the spark up into the air. It disappeared with a twinkle.
“Is that better or worse than them sc
reaming at each other?”
“I have no idea,” I said. I lifted my hands in a shrug, then let them drop back into my lap. “I just—I’m worried.”
The truth spilled from my lips. I hadn’t allowed myself to think those words, let alone say them.
“They’re not even sleeping in the same room anymore.”
Her mouth rounded into a small O.
“Ouch,” she said.
“Mom’s been in the guest bedroom for a couple weeks. And they’re not talking. Dad got in some trouble at work a while ago, I guess. Someone’s been messing with Humdrums all over town and no one’s been able to catch them yet. Everyone’s looking, but somehow it’s his responsibility, and he’s super stressed about it.”
Though I’d never say it out loud, rescuing him from the pressure of his job was another reason I actually wanted to help Queen Amani.
I didn’t normally care about my dad’s job, or his stress levels. He’d never cared about mine. But this was different. I’d kept my eyes peeled, not just for the queen, but also because some tiny part of me was crazy enough to believe my vigilance might be the thing that could keep my parents from falling apart.
“He and Mom were fighting a lot, but now it’s like they both just shut down,” I said. Now that the words were out, I couldn’t seem to stop them. “Feel the air. There’s nothing there, not even arguments.”
Imogen’s gaze softened and she tilted her head as though listening. Her empathetic faerie gifts were stronger than mine; I was surprised she hadn’t already figured out that all was not well in the Feye house. After a moment, she nodded.
“I can feel it,” she said. “I think that’s it, anyway. Something feels kind of empty and thick.”
“The weight of a thousand stubborn silences,” I said. “I don’t know how much longer they’re going to be together.”
With no warning, my throat closed up. I looked at the ceiling, hoping the tears that had just leapt to my eyes would stay there.
I hadn’t realized it meant so much to me until now.
I hadn’t had a good relationship with either of my parents in years, maybe ever. And they hadn’t had a good relationship with each other since my dad had been promoted three years ago.