The Vicious Deep

by Zoraida Cordova

  I stretch my arms out and feel the sheer blanket, too fine to be silk but the softest thing I’ve ever felt. Then I glance at Layla’s face again and think of the kiss I stole from her. No way, her lips are definitely the softest.

  But other memories push past that one—the silver mermaid, over and over again. She’s here. She’s somewhere on the island.

  “Elias. That shark mermaid was down there. Where’s my grandfather?”

  “The king is calming the crowds,” Thalia says. Her cuteness is replaced with that all-knowing, kick-ass attitude she doesn’t always let peek through. Shit must be serious then.

  “Elias’s followers want your fins stripped on a platter.”

  “He’s not back?” Of course he’s not back. I remember him trying to choke me, then letting go and sinking into the abyss.

  I can see it in their faces. They think it was me.

  “I didn’t kill him! I didn’t!” I sit up, past the ache in my legs. “The last thing I remember is trying to reach for him. He was beating me, and then he just started—sinking. Then I got this feeling like my brain was ripping in half. I saw her, the silver mermaid. The shark mermaid from my dream! It’s like she was inside my head.”

  Heavy footsteps enter the room. “Why didn’t you tell me of this, Kurtomathetis?” The king’s voice booms through the glittering stone walls.

  “I didn’t know—”

  “Do you know how severe this is? How dangerous she is?” His face is red. His white mane curls wildly around his leathery shoulders.

  “Wait, hold up. Rewind.” I cross my hands in a T for time-out.

  Grandfather walks over to his chair and sits. He slumps in his chair like he’s beaten, like with every minute the trident is gone, more of the power he’s held for centuries is washing away.

  Layla and Thalia link arms at the edge of the bed. Marty leans against a wall, looking exactly the way he did when I first saw him, coffee straw and all.

  “Tell me, Tristan,” says the king, “when did the mermaid first come to you? What did she look like?”

  “The day of the storm. I have zero memory of surviving except for this dream. She comes at me and attacks me, but this shark wearing some kind of helmet comes and saves me and drags me to shore.”

  “That explains the missing sharks on the guard,” Kurt says.

  “Indeed,” my grandfather responds.

  I tell them about all of my memories of her, the storm, the hospital, the dreams, the tunnel and pool right here in Toliss. “And when I was fighting Elias, it felt like she was trying to get into my mind. It’s always like that, but there’s a barrier and she can’t ever break through. Who is she? What does she want with me?”

  “She is my sister.” My grandfather leans back on his tall golden chair and concentrates on the fireflies. “She is Nieve—a murderer and a deceiver. She’s a sorceress and a traitor to the throne. When we were young, she killed my mother’s newest babe out of jealousy. She was banished for two hundred years by my father, who feared the harpies’ fury if he killed his own daughter. Then she was released, and she tried to become part of us again, but there was something rotting inside her, so she never could. Her blood is wrong, poison. When Father made me king in her stead as eldest, she killed him. So I locked her up below the sea, and she’s been there for centuries.”

  “Why didn’t you just off her?” Marty asks. I’m afraid my grandfather is going to turn around and drown him or just smack him, but he doesn’t.

  “Because I am an utter fool.” He sighs long and hard. “I am foolish to think our kind can change. I am foolish to think that my people can find their way in this new world when I’ve clung to my father’s tradition for so long. My father could not kill his own daughter, no matter how dreadful she was. She was still his. I knew I should’ve destroyed her when I took the throne. But there is no greater crime than killing your own family.”

  “But she killed her own sister and her father!” Layla yells.

  “And she was punished. The Caves of Tartarus were supposed to contain her.”

  “Now she’s out,” I say, and I’m surprised at how even my voice is when I’m actually trembling. “So if my dreams weren’t dreams, and someone was feeding her in the pool, then we’re not the only ones who know she’s out.”

  “Traitors in my own kingdom.” Grandfather shakes his head. “Kurtomathetis, send guards to the Narrow Caves and report.”

  “Thalia, the two of you will remain with Tristan and guard his family.” He looks at Layla and his face softens. “And friends, naturally.”

  “What should I do?” I stand with empty hands, unknowing. “She’s definitely coming after me.”

  “When you were born I bound you. You have my protection. I released most of it so that you could shift into your true self, but my power is still there. Only when I am truly no longer king would she be able to harm you. Now that I no longer have the trident, my magics will ebb.

  “You must find the trident. You should be king, as it is our family’s right. No matter what blood you share. It is your birthright.” He nods to the dagger slung over my shoulder.

  “That was mine when I was your age, before I became king.” I wonder about the things he’s had to do with it, the things I’ll have to use it for. “It was my father’s and his and his and his. Well, I can go on for quite a long time. It was a gift from Triton.”

  “The Triton?” Marty goes, the excitement in his voice so rich that it’s like he’s the one getting the present.

  “Yes, the Triton,” Kurt answers irritably, returning from the tunnel.

  “Son of Poseidon, god of the sea,” Layla says.

  The merpeople stare at her.

  “What? My mom’s Greek,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  My grandfather rummages through what looks like a bunch of junk. Now I know where my mom gets it from. “Now, where is that—ahh—yes, this’ll do—Miss Layla?”

  Layla rises slowly from the bed. She stands in front of him with damp curls and clothes. “Yes?”

  “Because I am a merman of my word, and a king is only worth the promises he keeps, this is a token from my court. So that harm may never come to you by me or mine. I’d say you’ve earned it, quite surprisingly. My grandson is honored to have you as a companion.”

  Both our faces go red.

  “You should tell him that,” she says half jokingly.

  He puts something in her palm, and she closes her fingers around it. She doesn’t look at it, but she smiles her brilliant smile and thanks him.

  “Marty, thank you again for the gift.”

  “Aw, King. No shiny dagger?”

  My grandfather frowns at him for a moment before turning to us one more time. “Now, a fortnight will come and go, so I suggest you head back. As king, I cannot interfere with the champion, so I suggest you learn as much as you can from Kurtomathetis.”

  “I’ve got to grab some of our belongings,” Thalia says. “Layla and I will meet you at the ship. King—” Just when I think she’s going to bow down and curtsey, she runs up and gives him a tight hug. He holds her and smooths her hair like a father would to his own.

  We start going down one tunnel together, but the girls make a right and we keep going straight toward a tiny white light.

  When we’ve reached the mouth of the tunnel, it is dusk.

  “It’s a wondrous sight,” says the king.

  “Does this mean we get our summer back?” It’s a tiny thing to look forward to.

  My grandfather laughs. “Yes, the wall is down.”

  “But won’t humans be able to detect it?”

  He shakes his head. “The barrier is still there, but you can only see it if you’re on the other side. Magics of that size are gradual.”

  Marty points to the shore. “Well, there’s our ride. I can’t wait to get this sand out of my—shoes.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, shoes.”

  He gives one low bow to my grandfather, takes off his baseball cap,
and shakes his matted brown hair. “From the members of Betwixt, a gracious farewell. From myself, a wicked awesome good time.” He jogs back to the ship, his boots sending up clouds of sand behind him.

  Kurt and I turn to my grandfather. I don’t know what to say, really. I want to stay longer and ask him to tell me everything. I’ve never had a grandfather. I’ve watched Layla with her two grandfathers, both of them tiny and wielding their canes like angry swords and giving her money to put into a college savings fund. When you grow up without grandparents, it’s like you’re missing a link to a past you didn’t even care you had until you have to sort through it to understand who you are. I want to know, and there is too much to know.

  My grandfather’s enormous hands come down on our shoulders. “You’re both in very good company.” He walks back through the trees until my eyes can’t follow.

  Her name was Lola—”

  We’re sailing in the warm night breeze. Marty’s singing at me.

  “She was a showgirl—”

  Layla and Thalia are getting navigation lessons from Arion, who is clearly smitten with the two prettiest girls in the whole world.

  “Marty?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t forget who has a new, shiny dagger in his backpack.”

  Marty makes a zipper motion over his lips and leans back against a wooden barrel, wriggling his toes. His heavy, black leather boots are beside him, along with his shirt and his hat. He calls out, “Hey, Arion!”

  Arion pulls on the braided ropes and sails, and swings as close to us as the black ropes that bind him will allow.

  “What is it now, Master Marty?”

  “I like that. Master Marty. Sounds official. So you got any more of that seaweed ale? It’s not so bad now. The grassy aftertaste kind of goes away.”

  Arion’s cool composure is evaporating. His bushy black eyebrows furrow. “There’s more below deck. Please, have as much as you’d like. Just beware of the urchin brothers.”

  At the mention of the little urchin guys, Marty shakes his head and leans back. “I think I’m good. Are we there yet?”

  “Soon. Very soon,” the captain says, turning back to his post. I think he mumbles something like Not nearly soon enough.

  “Yo, Kurtomawhatsis?” says Marty.

  “Just Kurt is fine,” Kurt says.

  “What’s your story, man? Why does the king trust you so much?”

  Kurt shrugs. “My father was on his council. My father built the Glass Palace. My mother was part of the queen’s court when she was still alive. She was like a sister to Lady Maia, Tristan’s mother.”

  “Ahh. ’Splains it.”

  “What’s your story?” Kurt asks in return. I don’t know if it’s the seaweed ale, which is as good as it sounds, or if he’s just gotten comfortable, but Kurt is almost friendly. “What are you? I can’t smell you, and the king already asserted that you’re not human. You’re no vampire or werewolf. You’re no fey. You’re not a witch.”

  “There are a bajillion otherworldly creatures out there, Kurt, my man. Maybe I’m a mega-vampire-werewolf-creature mix with fairy powers!” Marty tries to stand, but we hit a small wave and he falls back.

  “Not nearly as cunning,” Kurt whispers to me. “Besides, the ale affects you like a human.”

  Marty taps his temples with his index finger and winks at us. “Smart man.”

  “But you’re not human,” I repeat.

  “Yes, Champion Tristan Hart.”

  “Stop drinking that shit. It got Layla in enough trouble.”

  And there she walks into the conversation. My foot tastes rather nasty.

  “How was I supposed to know I was drinking a mermaid roofie? I won, didn’t I?”

  I think of Elias’s fiancée. The black film over her eyes. Kurt said not all mermaids have powers. Maybe it was just the light. But how else could Elias lose?

  “I thought you were dead meat, ladybird,” Marty says, pulling her down so that she sits on his lap. I don’t know what it is about Marty, but he’s easy to be comfortable with. She doesn’t even smack him the way she would’ve smacked Angelo or one of the boys.

  “I don’t know what you were thinking,” Kurt says, “challenging Elias like that. And you. You’re a champion. There are things you’re not supposed to do. It’s a wonder the entire court didn’t get into an uproar.”

  “Oh, they had an uproar,” Layla goes. “Your grandfather just put an end to it right away. After two of the guards pulled you out, another two went back to look for Elias. No one knew what happened. His girlfriend was screaming, ‘I want him dead! I want revenge!’ about you and went crazy.”

  “She’s hot, too hot for a creep like Elias,” Marty says.

  “Does she have any magic?” I wiggle my fingers.

  “No. It would’ve been common knowledge if her family still had magics. The king decreed that those who still do must make it known.” Kurt eyes me curiously. “Why do you ask?

  “No reason.”

  Thalia swings from the mast deck to the main deck on a rope. She crashes between her brother and me. “She’s not very nice. Then again, I wouldn’t be nice either if my father had promised me to marry Elias.”

  Part of me feels ashamed. I know I didn’t like Elias. But I didn’t kill him. He was alive. I know he was. Hell, if he hadn’t passed out, he would’ve probably killed me.

  “Did you tell them what you are yet?” Thalia says, looking from Marty to us.

  His eyes go wide and he stares at her. “That’s so uncool, ladybird.”

  Thalia giggles, her green hair flying all over my face as we ride against a small wave and strong wind.

  “Well?” I’m waiting.

  “I’m not going to tell you.” Thalia puts a finger to her lips.

  Marty looks more relieved.

  “It’s not my fault I’m cleverer than you all.” Thalia stands. She holds on to the side of the ship and looks out at the night. The barely there sliver of moon casts a silver glow on the water. There’s a dark mound out there that must be Coney Island. She looks back at us over one shoulder and winks. She pulls her shirt over her head and pulls her puffy skirt down. I look away because it’s just weird looking at her like that. She steps on the rail and jumps over. I catch a shimmer of green scales and the translucent tip of her fins.

  “I love skinny-dipping.” Marty stands, pushing Layla to the ground. He’s undoing his belt buckle.

  “Whoa, whoa. Technically she’s dressed, as far as mermaids go,” I say.

  Kurt shakes his head. “No, some of us wear more clothes than others. Purely for decoration, like the princesses. But it’s bothersome when you’re in and out of the water.”

  “See, that settles it.”

  “Marty, gross!” Layla shields her eyes as he drops his jeans and boxers, which are white with little red kisses. There’s a second splash.

  Suddenly I nudge Layla. I think of her face sleeping, the way she pulled me closer and lay on my chest. “Remember when we went skinny-dipping off the pier this winter?”

  Layla shakes her head and tries to suppress a laugh. “I don’t know who had a bigger heart attack, the police officer who found us or my mother when he told her.”

  She hugs her knees and stares at her toes. It’s like we’re in my living room again, talking smack about the girls she doesn’t like and letting a movie run in the background for white noise. Her hair tangles in the breeze, and when she looks up, I can see her eyes are glazed over. “What’s going to happen now?”

  “Guess I have to search for an oracle and get the trident pieces back.” When I say that, it doesn’t sound so hard. Then I let my mind go dark. “What if the others get to them first? They have entire kingdoms as a resource. I have you.” I nod to Kurt. “No offense.”

  “I’m not hurt. You’re right. I’m but one source of knowledge. We also have your mother and Thalia, who has her own resources, believe it or not.”

  “And me,” Layla adds.


  “You’re not in this. I can’t have you almost killed again.”

  She picks at the chipping yellow nail polish on her toes. Her lavender scent is thin in the sea breeze, but it’s still there. Her lips are pursed, stubborn, decided. She’s all You’re not the boss of me, Tristan Hart. “Remember when you had that harebrained idea to sail off to the Mississippi like Huck and Jim?” she says.

  “Yeah, I needed someone to make me some sandwiches while I sailed.”

  “Shut up.” She gets up in my face. Her pretty hazel eyes stare me down; her hair gets blown right in my face. I could kiss her now if I wanted to. “I went because I knew you wouldn’t make it a day without me,” she says. “Plus, it’s not a Coney Island summer without you. So I’m in. Because you’re the biggest jerk on the planet, but you’re my jerk.”

  “Don’t spare my feelings.” I press my hand to my heart and change the subject. “So what’d you get?”

  Her expression flits from confusion to duh. She pulls out a thin gold chain with a shell dangling from it. It’s a simple little thing; it looks like a spiral that starts off small and ends in a horn-shaped opening.

  Kurt nods, Mr. Know-It-All. “Spirula spirula. The symbol of your family. May I?” He takes the necklace from her hands and undoes the clasp. He kneels behind her, and she gathers her hair away from her neck and lets him put it on.

  I was going to do that.

  Maybe I wasn’t, but if she’d asked me to, I would have.

  Arion clears his throat. “Sire, we’ve reached the shore.”

  I run up to the mast deck and grab on to a rope. The mist that’s been clinging to Coney Island for the last couple of days is still there, but it’s thinning. Luna Park isn’t lit up, which is weird for this time of year, but the rest of Brooklyn is there. The entire city is still awake in its own way. The dark shape of the south pier comes into focus. The urchin brothers are flashes of blue and purple, running along the deck and up on the sails, getting ready for us to stop. My stomach flips like when I’m at the top of the Cyclone, and just like that we’ve landed. There’s a hard splash when the anchor drops down.

  “Honey, we’re home,” Layla says, sneaking up behind me and leaning her head on my arm.