Each team has eight players. Six of the players on the team are riders. The other two are swimmers, like me. The track is a giant circle, and the swimmers score points by swim ming around the circle and passing the check point with the shockey pawn.
The shockey pawn is a human shoe. No one knows why, but it is.
But it’s not so easy to swim all the way around the track, because the riders from the other team try to stop you, while the riders on your team try to stop the swimmers on the other team. Got it?
The riders on the different teams ride the course on different creatures. The Oysterdale Wonders ride decorated octopuses with lethal diamond-studded tentacles. The Lobstertown Loons ride lobster carts, which are flimsy but fast. The Hammerhead Heavyweights are on saddled sharks, and the Anchor Rockers balance on razor fish—some say they look like humans on things called skis, but I don’t know what they are. And we Swirlyshell Shots? We ride decked-out dolphins.
Enjoy the game!
30
The Lobsterdome
Beattie swam fast into the Lobsterdome. The thundering sound of thousands of mermaids was deafening. She fiddled with the shell top she’d tied to her plait. Zelda had decided to strap hers to her wrist. They didn’t want to not wear them and make any of the piranhas or Oysterdale mermaids suspicious but, equally, the thought of forgetting it was tied in her hair and being put in a trance was making Beattie nervous.
“STEVE!” she shouted over the roar of the crowd. “FIND SOMEWHERE TO MAKE THE ANNOUNCEMENT! THE PLAN, STEVE!”
Steve bowed and floated off. Beattie watched him head straight, before veering wildly to the left when he spotted a moving bill board showing Clippee dancing.
“Oh cods,” Beattie said under her breath.
He pasted himself against the screen and started jiggling, pretending he was Nose, the cartoon sea horse.
“MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!” a mermaid shouted.
“THAT SEA HORSE IS RUINING THE CLIPPEE CARTOON!” shouted another.
“I’m replacing Nose as Clippee’s new sidekick!” Steve yelled proudly.
“YOU’RE NOT EVEN A CARTOON!”
Beattie rolled her eyes as she wriggled her way through a group of mermaids and up to the rail that separated the shouting crowds from the players.
Up high, in the royal box, she could see a cluster of mermaids and an octopus waiter. She craned her neck, pushing a couple of mermaids in front of her out of the way. There was a clump of piranhas up there too.
“Ray Ramona’s got to be there,” she said as she fought her way through the crowds. She passed a loud group of Hammerhead Heights mermaid fans, decked out in silver Hammerhead Heavyweights T-shirts under their hand made shell tops.
One of them turned to her. “Do you know if Riley Ramona is playing? He’s my favorite.”
Beattie shrugged and kept on swim ming. There was a BANG! She dived to the ground, looking up nervously just in time to see that it was only a bunch of elaborately adorned sea creatures bursting from the changing rooms. They swam into the arena and began doing warm-up laps—octopuses wearing flam boy ant hats, dolphins clad in shell-studded saddles, a cart constructed entirely of linked-up lobsters, sharks with squid-ink masks, and razor fish, which the Anchor Rock mermaids were strapping to the tips of their tails.
Beattie swam fast around the edge of the arena as the teams of mermaids from each of the five cities mounted the octopuses, leaped into the dolphins’ saddles, slipped into lobster carts, and sat neatly atop the sharks. The Anchor Rock mermaids zipped about with the razor fish attached to their tails, moving faster than all the others. She spotted Zelda and Rachel Rocker wrapping seaweed ribbons around a dolphin and whispering to each other.
Beattie stopped as Liberty Ling glided into the arena to wild applause. There was no glow, no evidence she was wearing the Ruster Shells. But she was clad head-to-toe in shell armor. Zelda looked up and spotted Beattie in the crowd. She gave her a thumbs-up and pulled her heavy helmet on.
“THREE! TWO! ONE! . . . SHOCKEY!” a voice roared from the tannoy. Beattie looked around, hoping to see Steve doing some thing useful. But he was still dancing next to the Clippee cartoon.
The match began. Zelda raced after Liberty Ling, and tried to dart through a gap between two octopuses but was batted to the side.
Beattie winced and covered her eyes.
“GO, SLAMMIT JANET!” the crowd on the Swirlyshell side screamed.
Mermaids and sea creatures careered around the track and past a large octopus holding paddles with each of their emblems.
“POINT TO LOBSTERTOWN!” came a roar as Beattie saw Zelda shake her head.
Beattie watched as one of the Oysterdale mermaids spun her octopus aggressively and took out one of the Hammerhead Heavyweights with its chunky, sucker-covered arms.
“BAD FISH! BAD FISH!” a mermaid shouted (the underwater term for FOUL!).
“GET USED TO IT!” an Oysterdale mermaid squealed from the other side of the track.
Beattie swam faster through the crowds, pushing mermaids to the side. She was almost at the royal box. She spotted Ray Ramona! His back was turned.
“RAY RAMONA!” she shouted, the whole arena nothing but a blur of shark teeth, tumbling mermaids, and bobbing dolphins. The crowd groaned in unison. Beattie turned to the track just in time to see Zelda go flying, all the way past two Lobstertown mermaids, between a Hammerhead shark and past an Anchor Rock mermaid riding two razor fish to—
BAM!
“POINT FOR SWIRLYSHELL!”
Zelda turned and gave the crowd a thumbs-up.
Beattie rolled her eyes. Zelda was supposed to be marking Liberty Ling! She turned back to Ray Ramona.
“RAY RAMONA!” Beattie tried again. “I NEED TO—”
Slowly he turned, and that’s when she saw them. Angry piranhas were pulling a tight seaweed binding around Ray Ramona’s hands. There was a chomp chop stuffed in his mouth! And not in a good way.
“Mueetie,” he mumbled, just as a cold hand grabbed Beattie’s arm.
“And where do you think you’re going, Beattie Shelton?”
Beattie turned around.
“Hilma Snapp,” she said through gritted teeth.
Hilma Snapp smirked. “Where’s Zelda and Mimi?”
“Hilma,” Beattie pleaded.
“I’VE CAUGHT THE BAD MERMAID!” Hilma roared arrogantly. Beattie turned to see a bunch of Oysterdale mermaids charging toward her, like a tidal wave of bad hats.
“Hilma, this is import ant,” Beattie begged. “We don’t have much time before—”
The stadium lights went out.
“Lobstertown is garbage,” Hilma said, gripping Beattie tighter. “The lights don’t even work.”
Beyond the railing Beattie could make out a figure swim ming onto the track with two glowing crocodile-carved shells strapped to its elbows.
She looked down at Zelda, who was standing next to Liberty Ling!
“Wait,” Beattie said frantic ally. “If Liberty Ling isn’t wearing the shells, then that’s—”
“Oooh, Ommy Pike!” Hilma oozed, waving madly.
Beattie hastily pulled the shells from her hair. She looked down to see Zelda yanking hers off her wrist.
“Hilma,” Beattie said urgently. “Ommy is going to put us all in a trance.”
“Well, I’ve never worn one of those, but I’m sure if Ommy picked it I’ll like it.”
“Hilma, a trance isn’t an outfit. It’s mind control.”
There was a flash of light!
A sickening crack!
And then everything went dark.
31
Disaster
Ommy Pike stood in the royal box, laughing. He had strapped the Ruster Shells to his elbows, the carvings casting crocodile shadows around the stadium.
All the mermaids floated on the spot, their eyes glowing as brightly as the shells.
Beattie swam low, weaving in and out of the mermaids’ tails. Her hands were shaking. Every
thing felt like it was in slow motion—the crowds, the sounds, the huge Clippee cartoon. She collided with Zelda and the pair of them tumbled into a corner of the stadium.
“I WON!” Ommy squealed, trying to kiss the Ruster Shells on his elbows. He snaked toward where Beattie and Zelda were hiding and stopped in front of Liberty Ling. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO JUST LET YOU WEAR THESE SHELLS? THAT WOULD BE SUCH A WASTE. I CAN CONTROL THE WHOLE LAGOON NOW!”
“Wait,” Beattie whispered. “The Swan, Liberty Ling, whatever we call her, she wasn’t completely in on it? She didn’t know about the put-everyone-in-a-trance plan?”
“AND THE SWAN IS A STUPID NAME!” Ommy shouted in Liberty Ling’s face.
She stared at him blankly. Her eyes were glowing.
He turned and inspected the shells on his elbows. “I just needed you for this part of the plan—you’re Liberty Ling; you had to be the one to announce the shockey match and get every one to the stadium without arousing suspicion. Given how much you love collecting shell tops, I knew if I told you I had tracked down the Ruster Shells, convincing you to be part of the plan would be easy. Oh, Arabella Cod will under stand once we show her the Ruster Shells, I said. We’ll get her back from the human in a few days, I said. Ha!”
Liberty Ling burped.
Beattie watched Riley Ramona and Rachel Rocker sway silently in their shockey gear. Up in the stands, she could see Yule, Malory Swig, and Sabrina Scoosh, all entranced.
“Beatts,” Zelda whispered, pointing at the Clippee cartoon. “Look at Steve. He’s still going.”
Beattie peeked through two mermaid tails and up to the bill board. There Steve was, dancing away as if nothing had happened. “The trance hasn’t worked on him, even though he’s wearing that shell top.”
“Obviously his shell top didn’t work,” Zelda whispered, “because he’s a sea horse.”
They watched him dance, completely oblivious to what was going on beneath him.
“I can’t believe you still have that thing,” Zelda said.
Beattie looked from Steve to Ommy and back again. If she could just get Steve to distract him, they could burst out of their hiding place, rip the Ruster Shells from Ommy’s elbows, and smash them.
“Psst. Steve!” Beattie tried.
Nothing.
“Clippee, Clippee, Clippee, Clippee, Clippee OH!”
“I’m going to get closer,” Beattie said, weaving low through the crowds. “PSST! STEVE!”
A pearly fin dropped down in Beattie’s face. Slowly she looked up.
“Well, hello there, little fish,” Ommy said with a sinister smile.
“Well, hello there, little fish,” Ommy said with a sinister smile.
“YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” Beattie shouted as she and Ommy spiraled up higher above the entranced mermaid crowd.
“My plan was perfect, even with you little fish trying to meddle with it,” Ommy boasted. “You should’ve seen how I fish napped Arabella Cod! It involved a trip to Curly Clips and switching places with Liberty Ling at a shockey match!”
“We know,” Zelda said grumpily. “Beattie already figured that out.”
“And then all I had to do was make sure the palace mermaids were out of the way—we stuffed them in a whale and then stored them some where safe. And Arabella Cod was taken to land, where I traded her for the Ruster Shells! An excitable lady with spotted socks had them—she found them on a beach, would you believe?! It’s taken me my whole little fishy life to track them down.” He cackled as Nom wheeze-laughed next to him.
“Of course,” Beattie groaned. “The pen ink on the crabmail. That’s why she wrote the instructions in pen ink . . . because she was on land, where they use pens.”
Zelda flapped her fin angrily. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!”
“So, Ommy, the deal was that you trade Arabella Cod for the Ruster Shells?” Beattie asked.
“Beattie,” Zelda pleaded. “Stop talking to it.”
Ommy threw his head back and laughed. “That was all I had to do!”
Beattie bit her lip.
“Beatts, what is it?”
“And for the nails, I whipped up some of my special Piranha Powder, a secret recipe of mine. Put it in the Lagoon water, and BOOM, every mermaid had the piranha nails. I smuggled in the piranhas I’d stashed away near Viperview Prison, and voilà! LAGOON CONTROL. Arabella Cod was very impressed when I told her that part of the plan. Horrified. But also a bit impressed.”
“One more question,” Beattie said.
“Beattie,” Zelda hissed. “Don’t engage.”
“Why let the Oysterdale mermaids swim around looting and tell the piranhas to leave them alone, but then put them in a trance with all the other mermaids anyway?”
“Oh,” Ommy said dismissively. “I’m going to base myself in Oysterdale. It’s my home, where I grew up. I let them loot as a cheap and effective way of transporting all the good stuff from around the Lagoon to Oysterdale. Now I can move straight in—I have palace treasures, a little shark handbag . . .”
“EXCUSE YOU! SHARKS ARE NOT FOR HANDBAGS!” came a cry as Steve pelted through the air straight for Ommy! Beattie and Zelda frantic ally tried to wriggle free.
“Steve!” Beattie cheered, just as Nom appeared behind him.
Zelda screamed as, with one vicious chomp, he bit down hard on Steve.
“NO!” Beattie cried as the wriggling little sea horse went limp and floated down toward the mermaids in a trance below.
“STEVE!” Beattie wailed. “STEVE!” Tears began streaming down her face as she watched Zelda catch him with her tail.
He lay on it, still and quiet: two things that only a dead Steve would be.
Ommy patted Nom. “Well done, my little Nom Nom.”
“He was such a lovely little thing,” Zelda choked as her eyes welled up with tears.
Steve opened one eye. “I knew you liked me.”
“Ugh!” Zelda said, flinging him off her tail. “I can’t believe you still have that thing, Beattie.”
“Steve!” Beattie said, sniffing loudly. “You’re alive!”
“But my shell top is ruined,” he said angrily, shaking off the broken thing. “It saved my life.”
Ommy clenched his fists. “Well, so what? Your sea horse isn’t dead. BIG DEAL! You’re tied up! What can you possibly do to stop me?”
He cackled.
There was a rumbling sound. Soft at first, then louder and louder.
Ommy peeled the Ruster Shells off his elbows, waved them in the air, and shot up high toward the grand domed roof of the stadium.
“THIS LAGOON IS OFFICIALLY MI—”
A huge shark came crashing through the roof!
“Found it eventually,” Mimi said, from where she was sitting on top of it.
Beattie coughed as clouds of sand engulfed the place. When it cleared, she could see a shark flopping where Ommy had just been. A shark covered in fairy lights and a sign that flashed jawella’s.
The lights went back on. The piranhas scattered. The sound of the crowd started up again. The mermaids’ eyes stopped glowing.
“Love your work,” Mimi said, patting the shark as she dismounted it. She swam over to her friends and they linked arms, swim ming excitedly in a circle.
“WE DID IT!” Beattie cheered.
“Mimi!” Steve cried, trying to get in the middle of their circle. “You—you completely stole my thunder. I was about to save the day!”
“The piranha marks on my nails have gone!” a mermaid shouted from the crowd.
Beattie looked over at the shark—Ommy was attempting to squeeze his head through the jaws in a bid to escape.
“IT’S SWALLOWED THE RUSTER SHELLS! IT CRUSHED THEM AND SWALLOWED THEM!” he roared.
Zelda rolled back on her tail and folded her arms. “Well, we got there in the end.”
“TAKE HIM AWAY!” Beattie ordered as Jawella’s slipped back out of the stadium.
“I
T’S DISGUSTING IN THIS SHARK!” Ommy cried. “THE FIVE STARFISH ARE A LIE! THE FIVE STARFISH ARE A LIIIIIEEE!”
32
The Palace Mermaids
After the piranhas fled, Silvia Snapp and the Oysterdale mermaids followed. And The Swan, or Liberty Ling, as she really was called, seemed to vanish.
“Leave this to us now,” Ray Ramona said, patting Beattie on the shoulder. “We’re going to send a search party to land to look for Arabella Cod and the palace mermaids. And we’ll see if we can get anything out of Ommy.”
“But Ommy said he traded only Arabella Cod. I don’t think the palace mermaids are up—”
“Oh, little fish,” Goda Gar said, interrupting Beattie. “You go home now. You’ve done plenty for us, and we are very grate ful.”
“Well, I’d better get back to Shelly Shelby’s Shell Slop,” Rachel Rocker said.
“THE SHELLS ARE NO LONGER FREE, YOU FREELOADERS!” Shelly Shelby roared to any mermaid who would listen.
Riley Ramona swam over. “Let’s all go to the Orange Bucket for foam shakes this weekend, now that the cities aren’t on lock down.”
“Excellent plan,” Rachel Rocker said.
“And, Beattie, bring Steven too!” Riley said.
“Excuse you, it’s just Steve,” Steve said.
Riley and Rachel swam off, out of the giant hole in the stadium roof.
Riley turned back and smiled.
“Riley’s teeth actually glint when he smiles,” Beattie whispered to Zelda.
Zelda groaned. “Yeah, that’s because I knocked some out, remember? He replaced them with some melted-down sunken silver treasure or some thing. It’s tough to find false human teeth down here.”
“Well,” Beattie said, “if you don’t include Steve’s bedroom.”
Bad Mermaids Make Waves Page 10