Immerse

by Tobie Easton

  Caspian shoots me a questioning, concerned glance as he sits down beside her. I’m the only one who knows what that second potion was.

  I nod.

  Clay sags with relief and drags himself across the floor, resting Lia’s head on the scales of his lap. He strokes her hair. “Thank you,” he says to me.

  I never thought Clay would have anything to thank me for. I wish I could explain to him that the potion Caspian dropped was an oral blood replenisher, but his grandmother also had a topical dose for emergencies, in case someone was too hurt or too far gone to drink anything. It’s no surprise Caspian never learned about that one; there’s usually no reason to use it since the other one works much faster.

  That’s why Lia still hasn’t woken up.

  But soon, she stirs, nuzzling her cheek against Clay’s tail and sighing contently.

  We all sit up straighter.

  When she blinks open her eyes, it’s to the sight of his glittering scales in a gradient of greens and browns, oranges and golds.

  She runs her hand along the length of his new tail, her mouth open and her eyes gleaming with awe. She sits up, and before either of them can say a word, their lips are busy.

  She kisses him over and over, joy radiating from the two of them. When his hands find her waist and he pulls her closer against him, a small moan escapes her lips and their kiss deepens.

  Caspian and I both look away, then at each other. He rubs a hand along the back of his blond head and gives me a small smile. I return it with a little shrug, trying to acknowledge the mutual awkwardness of being the two people in the room not currently in an end-of-the-fairytale epic lip lock. We share a silent chuckle and both pretend we don’t notice the other blushing.

  “Oh!” Clay exclaims, and I swivel to face him just in time to glimpse a flash of his legs before his tail replaces them again. “So that’s what that feels like.” He shoots Lia a stunned expression.

  I’ve got to hand it to her: that was fast.

  Lia swipes her lower lip with her thumb, looking very satisfied with herself.

  Caspian hops to his feet and shakes the dust off a blanket before handing it to Clay, who drapes it over his tail. His boxers lie in shreds on the floor from his initial transformation. His jeans still sit in a puddle where he stepped out of them earlier, but if he tries to put those on right now, they’ll probably meet the same fate as the boxers.

  “Uh, thanks,” Clay says. Then his attention slides back to Lia, and he cups her cheek with one hand. “You feeling okay?”

  “Totally fine,” she answers.

  You’re welcome, I think. Of course, Lia’s way too focused on Clay to—

  She turns around. “Melusine, thank you. For finding me that potion.”

  If my voice still worked up here, would I be able to speak right now? I look her in the eye, and nod once.

  The moon shines down on us as we make our way toward the Foundation to get help. We rechecked the ropes and barricaded the attic door—from the outside this time—but it wasn’t safe for us to stay in that house with my dad and Ondine, just in case they woke up unexpectedly.

  The farther we get from my dad, the shorter my breathing becomes. Part of me is terrified of how he’ll look at me when he wakes up, how he’ll hate me for what I’ve done. The other part of me just hopes that he wakes up at all. What if when I cracked that drawer over his head, I …

  Keep walking. Just keep walking.

  As much as we’d all like to, we can’t run or we’d risk catching the attention of any human neighbors who might be gazing out their windows, so we walk as fast as we can while still trying to look natural. Which means, not very fast, especially since Clay is still new to leg control.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Lia asks him for the twelfth time. I roll my eyes, but she’s looking at him, not me, so she doesn’t notice.

  “I think you underestimate the power of being an eighteen-year-old guy.” He hits his hand twice against one thigh, as if showing his legs off. He is much older than most Mer are when we get our legs, so it probably is a lot easier for him to maintain them since he’s much more comfortable thinking about sex than a thirteen-year-old would be. He whispers the next part in her ear, but I can still hear him on the quiet, lamp-lit street: “And you underestimate the power of that dress.” His gaze roves up and down Lia’s body and she giggles, ducking her blushing face against his upper arm affectionately as they walk, all entwined with each other, fingers interlaced. She had a change of clothes in her backpack that she packed when she thought the only thing she’d be doing tonight was the spell to make Clay a Merman.

  A few specks of blood still dot the hem of Clay’s T-shirt, but nearly all of it transformed into scales. And Lia gave me a hair tie, so with my black hair pulled back in a tight bun and my coral tail replaced by legs, hopefully I’m not too conspicuous in the dark.

  I shake a tremor out of my hand. Soon, we’ll be facing Foundation authorities.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Caspian says as he walks next to me.

  I shake my head. I violated my probation. I came on land. I’m still on land. And I can’t sneak back into the ocean now because if the palace has discovered that they have my uncle in custody and not my father, they’ll be looking for me. They may already be lying in wait to arrest me.

  “You didn’t violate your probation,” Caspian says.

  I shoot him a questioning look, then nod. Yes, I did.

  “No, you didn’t,” he insists. He levels me with a serious expression. “Your father kidnapped you, do you understand? He kidnapped you just like he kidnapped Lia and Clay and brought you on land against your will.”

  That … would work! My gaze flashes to Lia. Will she tell on me? Will Clay? No matter what we just did in that attic, it would be foolish to forget even for a second that they’re the ones who testified for my imprisonment.

  Lia straightens, then says, “Sometimes our legal system … its decisions … aren’t right. Like what they did to Clay’s memories. They’d send you to prison forever if they found out you came here tonight. Even if they knew it was to help us.” She and Clay share a look, then she meets my eyes. “We won’t tell.”

  Caspian draws my focus again, talking quickly. “Say you couldn’t stand the idea of being in the palace once your father was there, so as soon as they thought he’d arrived safely from the North and you were allowed outside the palace walls, you went for a swim out in the city. That’s when your father grabbed you and brought you here, because he wanted the two of you to be together after the ritual. Then you broke free from him and helped us instead. All right?”

  It’s a good story, but there’s one glaring problem. I point backward, toward the house we’ve left, toward my father and Ondine. When my father wakes up … if my father wakes up …

  Caspian catches my meaning. “Even if they say something different, nobody will believe two dangerous, lying criminals over us.” He gestures to include Lia and Clay. “Not if we all tell the same story.”

  An image fills my mind of honest, noble Caspian lying on the stand at my trial to protect Lia; now he’s lying to protect me. Maybe I should feel guilty. I’ve gotten better at letting myself feel guilt lately. But right now, in this moment, as I stare into Caspian’s earnest face, all I feel is gratitude.

  It wells up inside me, flowing deep and rising high.

  When Caspian reaches down to hold my hand as we walk, it stops trembling.

  Lia, Clay, Caspian, and I turn a corner and face the imposing blue-green glass of the high-rise that, unbeknownst to human passersby, stretches just as many stories below ground as Above. The four of us enter the Foundation together.

  Chapter Fifty

  Lia

  When we step inside, the Foundation is in an uproar. Four teams of plainclothes guards stand in group formations around the lobby as Aunt Rashell shouts instructions, holding a map with the surrounding area split into quadrants for th
em to search.

  Over by the alabaster dolphin statue, Caspian’s grandmother leads five other Mer, who I recognize from the Magic Department, in what looks like a complicated location spell. More guards, dripping wet, spill out of the elevator to inform her that the teams Below still haven’t found any sign of their quarry. At first, I think they mean the real Mr. Havelock, but about two seconds after we walk through the large doors of blue-green glass, a worried-looking receptionist puts down the phone and points at me. “There she is!”

  The entire room turns to face us. My aunt is in front of me in two quick strides, checking me for wounds. “I’m fine,” I say as she suspiciously eyes the still-sticky layer of white healing cream on my legs. Her eyes dart to Clay, widening as recognition registers. “He’s fine, too,” I say. “He remembers everything.”

  I squeeze his hand, hoping, hoping, hoping he can keep his leg control just a little longer. Before her questions can start, I tell her the location of Mr. Havelock and Ondine, and she sends one of the groups of guards to retrieve them. She instructs the receptionist to call my parents on my mother’s cell phone. Apparently, they’re up here already, searching the area for me themselves alongside another trained team.

  Aunt Rashell fills me in with the efficiency of someone who has professional experience handling crisis situations. “As soon as Kai interrogated Melusine’s uncle and realized he wasn’t the right Mr. Havelock, we contacted your guards at the Malibu house. When you weren’t there, your parents and Em came up here right away.”

  The receptionist reaches them and tells us they were on their way to check Clay’s house to see if maybe I’d gone there. Now they’re doubling back to the Foundation. It takes my firm insistence to Aunt Rashell—and her subsequent order—to keep the Foundation officers from cuffing Melusine and dragging her down to a cell in the depths of the building.

  Soon, though, Melusine, Caspian, Clay, and I are sitting across the table from my parents, Em, MerMatron Zayle, and Aunt Rashell in one of the private conference rooms on the building’s upper floors. I’ve never been here this late. Night splashes in through the large windows, and down below, lights twinkle against the dark sky that melts into the darker ocean.

  I give them the basic rundown of what Mr. Havelock and Ondine tried to do to us and how we escaped. Caspian interjects occasionally to specify or help answer their questions. Melusine stays quiet because she doesn’t have the option of talking, and Clay stays quiet so he can pour all his focus into keeping his legs.

  That is, until my mother says, “The one thing I still don’t understand is how Clay has his memories of Merkind back. Everyone agreed there’s no antidote to the potion the Tribunal gave him.”

  “You mean forced on him,” I can’t help but mutter.

  “It was Ondine,” Clay says. His voice comes out a little stilted with the effort of maintaining his legs. If we’re lucky, everyone on the other side of the table will think he’s just choked up with emotion. I rest what I hope looks like a comforting hand on his denim-clad leg. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders as my touch bolsters his control.

  “Ondine created a ritual to restore my memories before she disappeared,” he continues.

  He skips over the part where I played an integral role in performing that ritual. If I admit to it, MerMatron Zayle will want to know every detail, and I can’t tell her those details without revealing the existence of the siren bond to my parents and implicating the other girls from Sea Daughters Academy, which I gave them my word I’d never do. Not only would it be wrong to take away any hope they have of a second chance and a normal life now that they’re free of Ondine’s influence, but they’d for sure seek revenge by revealing my sireny to the entire kingdom, ending my parents’ reign and any hope of peace. I let Clay’s omission stand.

  “I’ve had my memories back since right before she disappeared,” he says.

  “Why would she want Clay to have his memories back?” my mother asks, half to herself. I pretend her question is rhetorical. No one else answers either. She folds her hands on the table and levels me with a gaze that says she expects the truth. “Did you know he had his memories back?”

  I nod. “I’ve been sneaking out to spend time with him since before the coronation. I stopped when Mr. Havelock escaped, but I snuck out tonight when I thought he was in custody so I could see Clay. That’s when he and Ondine got us.”

  “Well,” my dad says, “I’d say what the two of them put you through was almost punishment enough to teach you your lesson.”

  “Almost,” my mother says smoothly, as if she’s agreeing with him instead of taking the reins. “Your father and I will discuss an appropriate punishment later this week once things have calmed down, and we’ll expect to talk to you more about this once you’ve gotten some sleep.” I nod, and she sighs, glad that part’s done. “We’re so glad you’re all right,” she says to me now, looking like she wants to leap over the conference table and clutch me to her. Then she addresses all of us, “Of course, you’ll all need to give formal statements in the coming few days, but we’re relieved that—”

  “There’s more,” I say. I have to admit, the more I’ve hidden from my parents, the better at it I’ve gotten. But hiding the rest of what I did tonight won’t help them or help keep their kingdom safe. It’s time for me to be honest with them.

  “More?” My father sounds anxious.

  I look over at Clay and slowly lift my hand from his leg.

  He shuts his eyes, releases the breath he’s been holding, and finally lets his body relax.

  The ripping of denim fills the room. Damn. Those were my favorite jeans of his.

  “Tides!” My father jumps up from his chair at the sight of Clay’s tail, gleaming in the conference room’s florescent lights. Clay grabs the arms of his office chair to keep from sliding off.

  My mother gasps, deep and loud, and it’s maybe the most uncontrolled reaction I’ve ever witnessed from her. Aunt Rashell and MerMatron Zayle share equal expressions of shock, jaws hanging open.

  Em brings a hand up to her mouth. “You did it!”

  My mother blinks, then rounds on her. “You knew about this?”

  “I can explain,” I say. And I do. I explain that once Clay got his memories back, he wanted to be Mer more than anything. I explain how we figured out the dagger was the key to transforming him and how Em, Amy, the twins, and I managed to get it out legally with Em’s official permission. (This part leads to a—yes, justified—outburst from Aunt Rashell about Amy’s safety and a scolding from my mom to Em, the likes of which my perfect, obedient older sister has never received before, but perfect Em stays perfectly calm. All she says is, “We owed it to Clay.” My parents can’t argue with that.) Then I explain the hard part: the spell itself. I explain what it entailed and what I was willing to do to help Clay. That’s when my parents get quiet. Scary quiet.

  It’s MerMatron Zayle who puts the pieces together first. “So as soon as you and Mr. Ericson got away from your captors, you started the spell early to stop their ritual. If he wasn’t human, they couldn’t use him to split our worlds apart.”

  “Yes,” I confirm. “I waited until Caspian got to the attic with the healing potions, and I did what I had to.” Then I grow quiet, too.

  The silence stretches.

  “You’re lucky you’re not dead,” my mother exclaims, eyes narrowed, head shaking.

  My father comes around and kneels by my chair. He puts his hand on mine. “Seashell, you were very brave, but,” his voice breaks, “we can’t protect you from this.”

  “All we’ve ever done is tried to protect you girls,” my mother says, almost to herself but gazing back and forth between me and Em.

  My father continues, “Being royal doesn’t mean you’re not subject to the law. We all are. You cast a highly dangerous, illegal spell, and we can’t shield you from answering for that.”

  “No, I …” I clear my throat, find my voice.
“No, I didn’t. I would never put everything you’ve built—the fate of our whole kingdom—in danger like that. The spell I cast wasn’t illegal.” I force myself to look them in the eye instead of staring down at my hands. “It was based on a spell that was never classified as dangerous.” Technically. Because it was never classified at all. “That makes it a Level One experiment.” My eyes dart to Caspian and Melusine, who have also sorted new spell submissions and know the guidelines. They nod. “Only Level Two and up need prior approval. Level One experiments can be cast as long as the appropriate shells have been submitted for review. And I submitted them today before I left the palace.”

  MerMatron Zayle clears her throat. Without taking her eyes off me, she says to my parents, “She’s right. That’s the current system.”

  “Which clearly needs to be revised,” my mother says in a clipped tone.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  My parents stare at me like they’re seeing me for the first time. Sometimes I forget they don’t know everything I’ve been through over the past year. To them, I’m still the same kid complaining about P.E. and worrying about being late to school. As the implication of my words sets in, relief floods their faces. I won’t be facing a prison sentence. This isn’t the end of the monarchy or our family’s reputation or my life.

  My father flings his arms around me, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug and only lets go when my mom has walked around the table to do the same. “You should never have put yourself in so much danger,” she says as she rocks me back and forth. “Promise you won’t do it again. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” I mean it. I really, really do.

  She flicks a pearl onto the carpet, then stands up straight and rights her clothes. “That just leaves the question of what to do about Clay. There’s no precedent for a former human joining our kingdom, and—”

  “Our legal system isn’t exactly known for respecting even the basic rights of humans,” Em finishes. “Whether Clay’s still human or not, the courts may still see him that way. We thought about that.”