by Anna Banks
Galen feels liquid draining down the back of his throat again. In case it’s remnants of freshwater, he swallows. The metallic taste suggests more blood. He wonders if his nose is broken. “More questions,” he says. He has to take in more water. Though he doesn’t like that Tyrden is sharing information with him. Would he be divulging so much if he was going to let me go?
Tyrden laughs. “You disappoint me, Highness. For a while there, I thought you’d hold out until the bitter end.” He leans forward. Galen’s eyes never leave the vessel of water in his hands. “Grom is the Triton king and your brother, right?”
Galen nods. Tyrden readily gives him another two swallows of water. Galen’s not sure why he’s being rewarded for obvious answers. If Tyrden knows about Jagen, he knows about Grom.
“So he wouldn’t like it if he knew you were in so much trouble. Surely, he would come fetch his Royal brother if he knew he was being held prisoner somewhere. He would be angry with whoever did this to you.”
There is no question here—and no need for one—but nonetheless Tyrden peers at Galen expectantly. It’s not difficult to follow Tyrden’s line of thought. “No,” Galen says flatly. “He would be thrilled.” They both know if Grom were aware that Galen were in such danger, he would come immediately. He would play right into Tyrden’s hands.
Tyrden seems to appreciate sarcasm; he gives Galen another drink, tilting the flask up so that he gets several swallows. “This is a mercy drink, Highness. From now on, dishonest answers get punishment instead of reward. You’re lucky that I need you alive for now.”
Galen feels the water seeping down into his stomach. He imagines his bloodstream absorbing it, hydrating him. He sits up straighter. “Grom…” Galen says, then clears his throat. “Grom won’t risk the kingdoms. Not even for me.”
Tyrden puts the toothpick back in his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Of course he wouldn’t. And I asked for honest answers, not your opinion.” He reaches around to his back pocket and produces Galen’s cell phone. “Grom have one of these?”
Until now, the idea of Grom coming here was just theoretical. A phone changes everything. “I won’t call him.” Galen hates himself for flinching when Tyrden jumps to his feet. He reminds himself that Tyrden is unpredictable.
“No?” Tyrden barks. He holds the flask in front of Galen’s face and starts pouring the contents out slowly onto Galen’s lap, giving him a chance to recant.
But he won’t. Can’t. He closes his eyes, unable to watch the rest of his lifeline soak into his jeans.
Tyrden grabs a handful of Galen’s wet hair and puts his face directly over Galen’s. “You will call him, I swear it.” He tightens his grip. “It means your life. Think about that, boy.” He shoves Galen away then, so forcefully that the chair almost tips backward.
Tyrden throws the flask to the floor, onto the pieces of broken plate by the wall, and stalks toward the door. He pauses when he reaches it, giving Galen a knowing smirk. He glances up at the tarp overhead. “You feel like stretching yet, Highness?”
Galen can’t help but scowl.
Tyrden’s grin widens. “I’ve always wanted to see the fin of a Triton Royal.” Then he slams the door behind him.
Galen feels a new rage surge through him like a tsunami. Shaping a fin would shred his jeans, leaving him completely naked—no doubt Tyrden’s idea of ultimate humiliation. It would be one thing if Tyrden had removed all his clothes in the beginning to shame him or deter him from escaping. It would be quite another if Galen couldn’t control his need to shape a fin amid the saltwater saturating him and accidentally destroyed his own clothing—and maybe even injured his fin in the process. The ropes are new and thick and strong; either they’ll break or they won’t, and then where will he be?
Another drop plummets to the tip of his nose and Galen lets it slither down over his lips, licking it defiantly.
Tyrden wants to see the fin of a Triton Royal? I’ll show him one.
19
MOM CALLS me right as I’m about to walk out of my room and meet Reed in the lobby.
“Hey, sweetie, you called? Everything okay?”
My lip almost quivers at the concern in her voice. I sit on the bed and get comfortable. You’ll-never-believe-what-has-happened kind of comfortable. Reed will just have to wait. “Did Galen tell you we were fighting?”
“Galen? What do you mean? Galen is with you. Right?”
“He left, actually.” I don’t skip a beat. This isn’t the hard part of the conversation. Not yet. “A few days ago. He said he was going back to talk to Grom.” Okay, so maybe it is a little hard. “Wait, you haven’t seen him?”
So he hasn’t made it to Grom yet? Why is he taking his time? Hope cartwheels through me. Maybe he’s coming back. He has to be. He got all my messages, and we’re going to work things out. I don’t know why I feel so relieved, but I do. Maybe he’ll even make it back in time to go to the Huddle. I’ll have to get Sylvia to give him directions. I take out the hotel stationery and start scrawling my request for her.
Suddenly, I regret calling Mom, getting her involved in my relationship issues. I’m an adult now, right? Shouldn’t I be dealing with this on my own?
“He left you? You’re alone?” The outrage in her voice is unmistakable. I hear Grom mumbling something in the background, and then the phone goes all white noise dissention among the married ranks. Mom must be covering it with her hand. Then she says, “Grom says he hasn’t seen Galen. Why on earth would Galen leave you all alone? What are you fighting about?”
I bite my lip. If Galen hasn’t told Grom about Neptune, then maybe I shouldn’t either. After all, the Triton king couldn’t in good conscience keep this from the kingdoms. It’s his Royal obligation to confront the leaders of this Neptune. I get that now.
Also, Galen is the fastest of his kind. If he was swimming with any sort of purpose, he would have reached Grom long ago. Maybe he’s just taking some time to clear his head. If anyone can understand that, it’s me.
But in the meantime, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to this lovely little town just because of some centuries-old prejudice that has very little to do with its descendants now. And it’s more Galen’s place to tell Grom than mine. So if he didn’t go home and tell, I’ve got no reason to.
“It’s not a big deal. Just stupid stuff. He’s probably on his way back now anyway.” I try to sound casual. But Mom is the bloodhound of secrets.
“Galen doesn’t fight over stupid stuff, sweetie. He’d hand you the world if he could. Now tell me what’s going on with you.”
Okay, now I really regret calling Mom. I want to tell her—as tactfully as possible—that it’s none of her business. The thing is, I called her. I opened the conversation, and now I can’t find a way to close it. Even if I wanted to tell Mom about Neptune, just to have someone to talk about it with, I couldn’t dump it on her—she’d feel obligated to tell Grom. I feel guilty about what I say next. “Galen’s just been different lately, you know? Ever since Rachel. He has these mood swings.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Oh God, I just betrayed Galen in the worst possible way. It’s one thing to be hanging out with Reed while I’m waiting to hear back from Galen; it’s another to cover my own butt by taking advantage of his grief.
I want to drop the phone and cry.
Mom’s silence is impossible to read. Then, “I’ll give you that. Rachel’s death was hard on us all. But Galen fought so hard for this road trip, Emma. Are you sure you’re telling me everything?”
Nope. “Yep.”
Another thread of silence, and I almost fool myself into thinking it’s just a natural phone delay, the pause between her words leaving her mouth and her words hitting my ears. But I know better. When Mom is quiet, she has all sorts of things percolating in her head.
Crappity crap crap crap.
“Well, someone is waiting on me,” I say quickly. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Who is waiting, Emma? Where are you?”
“We stopped in this
little town in Tennessee—I don’t remember the name—but anyway, since Galen left I’ve made a few friends here. Just trying to get the most out of a vacation turned sour, you know?”
“What town? Have you lost your mind?” Mom half shouts. “You don’t know these people, and Galen isn’t there to protect you. I’m coming to get you. Call down to the front desk and get the address. Me and my GPS will be there shortly. Galen can sort out what he needs to sort out on his own time.”
“Wow, overreaction much?”
Another pause. “Emma, I’m worried about you. Even if you’re grown, you’re still my baby.”
Ew. We’ve had this talk before. “Look, I get it. You’re worried. But I’m just doing what we came here to do. Strike out on our own and all that. I’m fine. You can hear me, right? You can hear that I’m fine?”
Mom sighs. She’s fighting her instincts and I know it. What kills me is, her instincts are usually right. “Just tell me where you are at least.”
“Promise you’re not saying that as you start the car.”
“I promise.”
“I’m in a little town called Neptune.” I hold my breath, waiting for a motherly explosion. It doesn’t come. Apparently, Grandfather really didn’t tell anyone but me about this place. A little more confident, I say, “And I’m loving it. So don’t worry.”
Another long, obligatory pause from the mother, but still no freak-out. “Okay, Emma. Just be careful while you’re having fun. Stay alert.” I expect her to tell me not to accept candy from strangers and to always say please and thank you and to avoid big white vans in parking lots.
“Will do. Gotta go, okay?”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She lets me hang up first. She always lets me hang up first.
I throw the phone on the bed and head toward the door.
Reed is probably having a conniption; I’ve noticed that when he’s ready to do something, he’s ready to do it right freaking now. Everyone has secrets. I wonder if Reed’s is that he’s secretly OCD.
I take the stairs to save time, and I hit the lobby as Reed is pushing the elevator button to go up. “You meeting someone here?” I call to him.
He smiles before he even sees me. “Yeah, but don’t tell my friend Emma. She’s starting to have feelings for me, and I don’t want to ruin it with her.”
Alrighty then. “Are you some sort of man-whore?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“Nope. It would be nice if you were a little less creepy though.”
He winces dramatically as I punch his arm. “Ouch. On both accounts.”
I’m about to tell him something ridiculously clever when a third party joins our reverie. “Oh, hello there, Reed.”
We both turn to see Mr. Kennedy walking toward us, arms full of different kinds of plants, white lab coat smudged with ten kinds of dirt and double that amount embedded in his worn-out tennis shoes, which don’t match each other, much less the rest of the outfit. Not that I think a pair of wedges would save him or anything.
I’d actually forgotten all about him. Even though he’s staying here at Sylvia’s, I haven’t seen him since that first day we arrived in Neptune. That day, he looked somewhat normal.
Today, he looks … frazzled. A close-up reveals that his hair is so grimy you can hardly tell the actual color. Probably brown, but light brown? Dark brown? Mousy brown? Who knows. Thick glasses magnify the fact that he also has brown eyes, and that the left one wanders.
Reed gives him an easy smile. One that I’ve come to know is actually fake, the manners kind of smile, since it doesn’t climb all the way to his eyes. Reed is especially good at BSing for manners’ sake. “Hey, Mr. Kennedy. You need some help there?”
Mr. Kennedy’s eyes light up. “Oh, no, thank you, Reed. I’ve got to keep these little gems on lockdown.” He lowers his voice and leans in, giving us a powerful waft of BO, probably earned from spending the day in the field. “I’ve found what I believe to be a crossbreed between Asclepias viridis and Asclepias syriaca.”
“Gosh,” Reed says, “that sounds exciting, Mr. Kennedy.” My mother is very good at sniffing out lies, even the little white ones. I wonder if she could sniff out Reed right now.
Mr. Kennedy nods, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Oh, it is exciting. If I’m right, it’s a new species. One that could help sustain much more wildlife here in the mountains than we originally thought. Oh, yes, Reed, it’s all very exciting.”
“Congratulations, Mr. Kennedy. I knew you’d find what you were looking for here. Oh, and have you met my friend Emma? She’s visiting from New Jersey.” I decide that Reed learned his hospitality from his father.
Because his arms are too full to safely pull off a polite handshake, Mr. Kennedy nods to me, smiling big. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.” Then he eyes my dress and Reed’s fancier-than-normal khakis and becomes visibly distressed. “Oh, are you going on a date? I didn’t mean to interrupt. You both look very nice. I remember going on a date once.”
I open my mouth to object, but Reed takes my hand. “Yes, sir, we’re heading a few towns over to the movies. You didn’t interrupt anything.” He starts dragging me toward the front door. “But if we don’t get going, we’ll be missing more than just the previews. Evening, Mr. Kennedy.”
“Have a good time, you two lovebirds,” Mr. Kennedy calls over his shoulder. Sylvia rushes past us as we reach the glass lobby doors. Behind us, we hear her press the elevator button for Mr. Kennedy, accompanied by his frenzied thanks.
When we get in the truck, Reed pats the seat in the middle. “You can sit here, since we’re picking up Toby.”
I raise a you-wish brow. “Then Toby can sit in the middle.”
Reed winks. “Worth a shot.”
“What don’t you get about—”
“So anyway,” he continues as if I’m not talking, “I have another secret to tell you. If you don’t know how to Blend, then you definitely haven’t figured this out yet.”
Why does he have to be so mysterious? If there were ever a time I would have appreciated a straight-up info dump, it would be now. But noooo. Reed is determined to string me along until…?
I decide not to play his game anymore. I peer out the window, pretending to drink in the nectar that is the winsome town of Neptune passing us by.
He gives me a few seconds, then he starts squirming. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Huh?” I say, without looking at him.
“You’re dying to know. I can tell.”
But when I don’t answer, he starts to show signs of weakness. First, he taps his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune of the song humming fuzzily through the speakers. Problem is, he doesn’t appear to actually know the song. Or he has the rhythm of a worm.
Then he takes to checking the rearview. A lot. He adjusts it as if looking for something in his teeth. Then he adjusts it to view something terribly important-looking behind us. After that, he makes a show of waving to every. Single. Person. We pass.
Now I’m starting to think he’s playing me. Because I’m about to blow a freaking gasket.
Thankfully, we pull into the driveway of a house I’ve not been to yet. Reed unceremoniously beeps the horn, and a few seconds later, Toby is sitting in between us.
“I thought you were grounded?” I tell Toby.
He scowls. “I am. I have to go to Mrs. Buford’s for tutoring, ’cause I almost failed math this year. Which is stupid, because I almost failed it. I didn’t actually fail it.”
“Better get that out of your system before we meet up with Mom and Dad,” Reed says, not unkindly. “You’ve had a smart mouth lately.”
Toby rolls his eyes. “Says the King of Comebacks.”
It’s then that I realize that Toby reminds me of Rayna. And that I miss her. Me. Missing Rayna. Even her Tabasco-sauce temper. In. Sane.
I poke Toby in the ribs. “Your brother says he knows a secret about me.
Yesterday, he showed me how to Blend. Today, he says he knows how to do something else.”
Toby glances at his brother, but I can tell his mind is already made up to divulge it to me. After all, he does blame Reed for getting him grounded. “He’s talking about the time he shaped a fin.”
Okay. So now I’m the one fidgeting. In front of me, my knee begins to bounce. “A fin? What do you mean?” But I know what he means. And it’s not possible. But then, twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t think Blending was, either. Not for Half-Breeds.
“Aw, Toby, you little jerk face. You just cost me a kiss,” Reed whines.
I’m starting to get really good at my you-wish brow.
“Yeah, right. Like Emma would kiss you. You’ve met Galen, right?” Toby shakes his head in mock sympathy toward his brother. Then he beams up at me. Apparently, the Triton prince made an impression. “Where is Galen, anyway?”
My stomach turns into a kaleidoscope of emotions. According to Reed, I’m meeting the rest of the town tonight at the Huddle. People will ask where Galen is. They know we arrived together. And I’d love to think of something to say that doesn’t make me look like The Girl Who Got Dumped.
But then again, why should I make Galen out to be a hero? He did leave, after all. Maybe he’s on his way back, or maybe he decided to take his road trip alone. All I know is that he hasn’t called to tell me anything. Not that he’s sorry, not that he loves me, not that he’s coming back.
After all that jealousy over Reed, he suddenly leaves me alone with him? Nice.
Or … Or … Something could be wrong. I hadn’t really thought of it like that. I’ve always considered Galen supercapable and independent. But … he didn’t make it to Triton territory after all, according to Mom and Grom. Did he intentionally go off course, or did something happen? The realization that Galen could have been in an accident and lying injured or worse on some scarcely used road makes the churning kaleidoscope in my stomach feel more like a pot of melted crayons.