The Vicious Deep

by Zoraida Cordova

  We take a smaller table away from the swim team. On a regular day it would be considered a huge diss to leave your team’s table. Today they’re all fawning over my mermaid cousins and don’t even notice. That explains the way everyone was behaving in the halls before. Well, except that you never really know with Angelo. If I don’t do something, the whole school may end up either making out or duking it out.

  Over at the swim team’s table, Gwen and the mermaid princesses have formed a makeshift court with Gwen at the epicenter. Their shoulders peek from their sheer dresses, and their legs—which would normally be hidden beneath layers of scales—are crossed and exposed by the slits of their skirts for the enjoyment of every guy, girl, and pervy lunch monitor in the cafeteria. Their gem-like eyes, so much like mine, watch their surroundings carefully.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say, ignoring Kurt’s warning not to do anything irrational and to remember this is all court politics.

  Gwen settles her stormy gray eyes on me. They’re lined with black makeup. She arches an eyebrow, which is kind of funny, because she’s so blond and fair that it doesn’t look like she has eyelashes or eyebrows unless you’re up close. “Have you been formally introduced yet?”

  I smile as charmingly as I can. “Can’t say I have.”

  “That over there is Violet, Adaro’s cousin. She’s got the prettiest purple hair in her region. This is Kai, Brendan’s aunt. She’s a bit shy, but she’ll come along. And that’s Menana, a freshwater princess from the Rocky Mountain lakes. She’s like our very own Pocahontas.” They wave with their fingers, some more interested than others. Then again, I shouldn’t mistake interest for amusement.

  I feel like I’d rather take my chances with Nieve than try to calm down a horde of mermaids. Like my dad says, hell hath no fury like when your mother doesn’t get what she wants. And here I am with a pissed-off wannabe queen and her posse.

  Bertie notices me for the first time. His eyes are glassy, but there’s a joker smile plastered on his face. “Man, I wish I were part of your family.”

  No, you don’t.

  “I need you to please call them off, Gwen.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” She stares at me so innocently that I almost want to believe her.

  “I’m half human. Not half stupid.” Most of the time.

  “You’re not king, Tristan Hart.”

  “My grandfather—”

  “Your grandfather isn’t king anymore either. So for now we’re all free to do as we wish.”

  “Yeah!” Angelo pumps a fist in the air. “Who made you king of the world, bro?”

  “If you want to do it that way…” I grab Gwen by the waist and throw her over my shoulder. She beats her fists against my back, but she’s not trying very hard. I take her to a corner of the cafeteria and set her down. She smooths out her dress and her hair, but doesn’t hide the smirk on her face. The table whistles and cheers at us.

  “The way I hear it, my ex-king grandfather makes everyone with powers reveal themselves. From where I’m standing, no one knows about you and your little voodoo tricks.”

  She looks like a girl who’s just been caught smoking and I’m threatening to tell her dad. “It’s not voodoo. Voodoo is filthy, unnatural magic. I’m organic.” She presses her hands on her chest. She really needs to stop doing that.

  “I don’t get it. Why did you help your future husband lose to a girl?”

  Her full pink lips curl into a smile. “He’s—a jerk, as you people say. Why did you help hurt my future husband?”

  “He was alive, Gwen. Something was down there with us, and it got him. Look, I’m sorry about Elias. I didn’t think it would go down that way. But this is now. We’re not on Toliss. You’re on my land. I’ve got enough to deal with without worrying about any of you drowning my teammates.”

  “I thought you were all swimmers,” she purrs. She looks off to the left and chews on the inside of her lip. I get the feeling she could do anything she wants right about now, like blow my head off or set me on fire with the heat in her eyes. I can smell her power. I didn’t know that power had a scent, but hers does, like firecrackers being lit. Instead she sighs softly. “I’m sure Elias just took the tunnels out of the island to avoid the humiliation of losing to a human.”

  “So here’s hoping he’s out there trying to beat me.” I cross my fingers in her face and repeat, “The princesses.”

  She traces a finger along my jaw, and all of my parts tingle. She’s truly beautiful once you get past the immense bitch part. “Maybe they’re wrong about you. Maybe you do have it in you after all.” She saunters back to the girls and whispers to Violet of the purple hair. There’s a collective sigh from all of them, and suddenly the air feels lighter. The humming dies down. All around the cafeteria, kids who were kissing, fighting, standing up and shouting, look around as if they’ve forgotten what they were doing and why.

  I nod thanks to Gwen, who gives me her cheek.

  “Congratulations on your first political negotiation,” Kurt says as I sit beside him.

  “She really gets under my skin,” I say, reaching over to Layla’s plate of fries.

  She pulls it away and my fingers grab at the air. “Seemed like more than your skin.”

  “I don’t like my girls with a side of crazy, thank you.” Even though the effect of Gwen is still lingering in my pants. Stupid mermaid princesses.

  “I don’t get it,” Layla goes. “Why are they here if none of them even look your way?”

  “I resent that.” I grab one of her fries while she’s not looking.

  Thalia taps her finger on her lips, thinking. “The way I see it, the entire courtship is a way to throw the champion off his course. Think about it. You’re competing against their brothers and cousins, so why would they want you to win?”

  “On the other hand,” Layla says, squinting at me the way she does when she thinks I’m being a creep, “if you were to pick one of them, then she’d no longer be a princess, but a queen. And why do they affect everyone so much more than you guys do?”

  “Because Thalia and I are here to help Tristan. They’re here to play.”

  “So here I am with my school full of mermaids, an oracle to find, a throne to win, and the person who stands between me and the oracle is my ex-girlfriend, who says she lost the one thing I’ve got going for me as far as offerings go.” I rub my face with my palms, unable to stop the feeling of premature failure from spreading through me. “Anyone have any spare cattle?”

  “No way did she lose it,” Layla says. “She was still wearing it the day of the storm.”

  I didn’t notice. I never notice. That’s my problem.

  “You could always—” Thalia shifts uncomfortably and puts her fry down. “You could always woo her again.”

  “No!” Layla’s punches me hard on my shoulder.

  I think of Maddy’s face when she asked if I wanted her back. Despite everything I’d done, she’d still say yes. I think about Jessica and Deanna in the hallways. Until they approached me minutes ago, I’d totally forgotten about them. I figured they’d move on to someone else. How was I supposed to know I affected them that way?

  A cheer erupts at the other end of the table. Angelo picks up Kai, a pretty little thing with shimmering pink lips and eyes like a powder-blue sky, and her long blond curls curtain around his shoulders. He sits her on his arm just so he can prove how strong he is.

  “I thought she called them off,” Layla says.

  “Jealous?” I snort.

  “You wish.”

  I do, and she knows it.

  “He’s acting on his own Angelo dumbassery right now,” I go. “So, Plan B. The oracle you visited was in the Fancy Corals or whatever?”

  The familiar Kurt sneer is back. I was starting to miss it. “The Great Coral Caves. And yes. She’s there. You and I can go together. If we leave now, we’ll be back by morning.”

  “No!” Thalia shakes her head. “The merrows are out there lookin
g for Tristan. It would be unwise to swim alone through the channels. They’re dangerous enough.”

  Kurt considers this. I don’t think he’s ready to fight those things again any more than I am. “Perhaps you’re right. What about the landlocked waitress from the diner? What if beneath her enthusiasm for you as king, there was something else. What she said was curious.”

  Layla raises her hand. “Some of us weren’t at breakfast.”

  “She told me her kid, the little turtle boy, is rooting for me.”

  Thalia stifles her laughter. “Honestly, Tristan. It was just this morning. What she said was: You’ll find our kind is all around you, not just in the seas.”

  I’m so hungry I can’t even think. “I thought she was just being nice.”

  “We’re never just nice,” Kurt says. “Our kind never says what they mean to say directly. It’s vague, but what if she was telling us there is an oracle right here in New York?”

  “Hold on,” Layla says. “How do you know she’s not tricking him and making him look around the city when there isn’t even an oracle here? Why would she care? Kurt’s right. There are tons of people like her, right? What if she’s one of the bad ones?”

  There are tons of people like her. That thought is enough to silence us all, because we know it’s a long shot, and I’m going to just have to take it anyway. I don’t know if it’s the vibes coming from the rise in mermaid activity around me, the power of the dagger in my backpack, or what. But something in there is clicking. I wish I could tell everyone, Look, I’m not just a pretty face.

  “There are tons of others like her!” I point to Kurt, who looks surprised that I point to him. “Use your mighty-merman powers for a sec. How do you think the other champions are finding the oracles?”

  “Same way we are: hearsay, family witches, hired guides, seers—” He pauses and catches my eyes with his violet ones. “Of course.”

  “You said Ms. Pippen’s a seer,” I go, a little too smug that I’ve come up with it before him.

  “She hasn’t been in school for two days,” Thalia says, bursting my cloud of mojo.

  “That’s not a coincidence.”

  Layla scrunches up her nose. “Ms. Pippen’s a what?”

  “A psychic in your world. I noticed the first day we were here.”

  “Oh—”

  “So then, let me give Maddy one more try—” Before Layla can punch me again, I add, “I’m just going to talk to her, not woo her. That’s where you come in, Thalia. You stay here with Ryan and convince him he should throw a party.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  I try to keep the sly grin off my face. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  “Really, a party?” Layla gives me attitude.

  “There’s a madness to my method. I’ve got this. You, me, and Kurt, we’re going to have a little search party on the boardwalk. There’s someone I think can help us. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to find a way to get us all to the Coral Conclaves.” I point to the swim team table, where Angelo is the center of attention. “Because I am not going to share my school with a bunch of bored, wannabe mermaid queens, and especially because I never, ever want to see Angelo do that again.”

  Do you think this is a good idea?” Layla asks. We’re feet from the entrance to the school. Behind her, Kurt squints against the sun.

  Angelo runs past us as if his pants are on fire, which, given today, they probably are. “I also invited all of your hot cousins to come to Coney Island. Why aren’t you being more hospitable, bro? Plus, they say they packed more bikinis than actual clothes.”

  Layla rolls her eyes. “Now that you put it that way.”

  Angelo presses his palm over his chest. “Don’t worry, Layla. You’ll always be my first love.” He puts out his cheek so that she can kiss it.

  “Gee, thaaanks.” She stops an inch short of pressing her lips to his face. “On second thought, I don’t know where that cheek has been all day long.” Laughing, she walks right past him, stepping from the shadow of the school into the light.

  “Oh, come on!” He runs out after her. “It’s not like I’m Tristan.”

  “Not cool, bro! Not cool!”

  “See you suckers at the Wreck!” He takes the steps three at a time. It’s surprising he doesn’t miss a step at the speed he’s going. He crosses the street, where a bunch of cars honk at him. He throws his middle finger in the air and howls at them, jumping into a red car with black flames painted on the side.

  “Are werewolves real too?” I wonder. “’Cause that’s just not normal.”

  “He’s euphoric,” Kurt says. “He’s had the most exposure around the princesses other than—well—you.”

  Layla looks surprised that he points to her and then blooms into a playful smile. “I guess mermen just have no effect on me.”

  I stick my hand out in the air and go, “To the subway, Merman!” in my most dramatic cartoon superhero voice. It’s wasted because the only one who laughs is Layla. Kurt watches me with the curiosity I give rats on the subway, and I wonder if we’ll have enough time to introduce him to my comic books.

  •••

  The train station is aboveground. Across the platform is a wall of graffiti that stretches all the way down to Coney. We weave through the late beach crowd, the kids with red, sticky Italian ices, girls reading while two guys try to beat box battle beside them. Watching Kurt fumble with the turnstile and having it hit him on the back is the highlight of my day.

  The car we board is fairly empty. A group of extremely loud kids hang out on the opposite end from us. They swing on the metal bars and dare each other to race between cars when the doors open.

  “What are you thinking, Kurtomathetis?” Layla stands beside him, holding on to the bars with both hands so she looks extra long.

  Even his shrugs are proper. “It’s amazing really, the way these lines represent your city. It’s like the channels under the sea, the veins in our bodies connecting everything.”

  She looks like something is caught in her throat. Her hand goes right to the protective shell that hangs just under her clavicle.

  I could be all poetic and stuff. If I wanted to.

  At the next stop an older lady sits beside us in our corner, clutching her frilly purse. She snarls her thin lips at me, just like the old lady in the elevator at the hospital. Unbidden, Nieve’s face comes to mind. Her irises, like the white of lightning, her blue lips and bloody gums. My temples burn as if someone is holding hot pokers on either side of my head and digging in.

  “Tristan!” Layla kneels in front of me. She puts her cool hands on my face. Even with the air conditioning pumping from the vents, I’m sweating.

  The old woman pushes past us and gets off when the train stops and the doors open. Well, that was that. The sensation subsides.

  “I wish I could stop seeing her.”

  “Nieve?” Kurt looks around the car as though we’ll be attacked any moment.

  What I don’t say is that I can feel her getting stronger, that the white of her eyes pulls me in and I need all the strength I have to shut it away.

  The conductor shouts, “West Eighth, New York Aquarium! Next stop, Coney!”

  “This is us,” I go.

  The kids on the other end of the car shout over something funny someone says. The doors chime open, and we leave them to their unbridled, unworried laughter.

  The last time I showed up at the Wreck was the week before the storm. Ryan wouldn’t let up about my making an appearance, because if there’s someone you want as your wingman, it’s gotta be me.

  The owner’s son, Jimmy Haggerty, mops the bar with a rag that looks like no amount of bleach will ever get it clean. He nods at me in that way guys do, while drying a glass with the same rag.

  The Wreck is the coolest place on the boardwalk, hands down. Angelo and the guys have taken over an entire corner of the place. There is a Mount Everest order of hot wings so red they almost glow.<
br />
  Kurt takes in the room and says, “Thalia would enjoy this. It reminds me of Tortuga Cove. Except that there are no pirates here.”

  A man in full pirate costume walks in. Pirate Pete and Captain Loveday are part of a tour about the heyday of Coney Island, when the streets were cobblestone and lit up like Vegas. When there was a hotel shaped like an elephant, and the best rickety roller coasters in the entire United States.

  “I retract my statement,” Kurt says, breaking into a rare smile.

  “Were you really so hungry you had to make a pit stop?” Layla asks, taking a seat closer toward the entrance.

  “Relax,” I say. “I have a good feeling about this.”

  Her face becomes an instant smile, the way she used to smile at me before—everything. She squints, and the black fringe of her lashes looks like it’s nestling the gold of her eyes. The sun breaks behind me and lights up her cheekbones and the rich browns in her hair. I smile back, even though I don’t know what we’re smiling about.

  Then she says, “Marty!” and her chair flies back as she practically flies to him.

  Marty pulls up a stool beside me. He shakes Kurt’s hand and avoids my eyes when he holds out his hand to me.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” I go, leaning casually against my chair. “On land. Out here in the world.”

  He slumps down. “Dammit! Shouldn’t you be in school right now?”

  I sit up straight. “Guess today’s just my lucky day.” I add, “Na-na-na, boo-boo,” in a hushed voice so just he can hear it.

  Marty fixes his cap from side to side. “Okay, I promised I’d tell you what I am.”

  I’m unable to keep the smugness from my face. “Let’s have it.”

  “Not here, bro. It’s one of those believe-it-or-not things.” And even though he says that, he leans into Layla’s ear and whispers. She stares at Marty with a sort of wonder that is rare for her lately. It was the same expression she had when she saw the Sea Court, when my grandfather gave her the shell around her neck. I wish she’d look at me that way, but all I get is Tristan Hart, her best friend, who kissed another girl while he already had a girlfriend.