Mermaid Fins, Winds & Rolling Pins

by Erin Johnson

She rolled her eyes. "Want me to change it back?"

  "No." I pressed my lips together primly and lifted my chin. "I wouldn't want to trouble you."

  Maple snorted. "Right."

  I pointed at her and gave an exaggerated gasp. "You snorted."

  She swatted my hand away and I laughed. Then frowned as I scanned the crowd. "Hey. Where are Francis and Rhonda? They were right behind us."

  Men sat at the low, round tables, some playing cards, others laughing and slapping each other's shoulders. I spotted Wiley sliding back from the bar, a few mugs in each hand, which he held high overhead to avoid spilling. The bartender leaned in to hear a guy's order. The customer's arms swarmed with colorful tattoos, and he played a gold coin between his fingers.

  "Oh." Maple's cheeks flushed pink and her eyes grew wide.

  I followed her gaze across the tight crowd to the corner where Rhonda and Francis hovered, wrapped tightly around each other, hands roaming.

  I shook my head. "Those two are like teenagers."

  When Maple didn't respond, I nudged her and she blinked rapidly. "Sorry, I just— It's kind of nice though, isn't it?"

  I raised a brow.

  "Nothing about that is nice," Iggy grumbled.

  "I mean…." She sighed. "It'd just be nice to have someone you felt that way about, feel that way about you too."

  I nodded, a lump forming in my throat as my thoughts wandered to Hank. Unless that person was engaged to a princess and you had no hope of being together. Geez, I was turning into a cynic. I cleared my throat. "I'd probably think it was nicer if I hadn't seen what I'd seen this morning in the library." In all the hustle and bustle of work and preparing to travel to the Mermaid Kingdom tomorrow, I'd forgotten about my bat adventure. I filled Maple in; her eyes widened, first with fear, then with mirth.

  "And it was Rhonda and Francis getting it on in the bat room."

  Maple gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth. "No!"

  "Who was getting it on with bats?" Wiley slid drinks onto the table. Golden beer sloshed up the sides of the frosted mugs.

  Maple pressed a couple of fingertips to Wiley's wrist, just a faint line remaining from his cut. "That looks a lot better."

  He stilled at her touch, then nodded. An awkward silence followed. Was romance in the air or something?

  Wiley cleared his throat and tore his gaze from Maple's hand on his wrist. He looked around. "Where are our two lovebirds?"

  I chuckled. Not the way I'd describe Rhonda and Francis.

  "The love bats? Wrestling tongues in the corner," Iggy drawled.

  Wiley shrugged and lifted a mug. "Well, drink up then." Maple, Wiley, and I clinked glasses, and I sipped from the chilled mug, the cold ale refreshing in the hot, stuffy bar.

  "I want to drink beer."

  I tilted my head to the side and gave Iggy a look. "It would put you right out."

  He sighed. "At least I wouldn't be so bored."

  I frowned. "Well, no, you wouldn't be anything, because you'd be extinguished."

  He moved closer to me, right up against the glass of the large black lantern. "You better bring me."

  "Bring you? Where?"

  He gave me a flat look. "To the ladies’ room so I can have girl chat with you and Maple."

  "Oh well, I mean, you're not a girl but—"

  He growled. "To the Mermaid Kingdom of course, ya louse."

  I pressed a hand to my chest. "I'm not entirely sure what a louse is, but it doesn't sound good."

  He glared at me.

  I sighed. "Look, I don't know that I can. I mean… it's underwater. Doesn't seem like the safest place for you."

  He narrowed his eyes further to tiny slits, his flames burning blindingly hot. "It's not fair, you getting to have fun and adventures and me stuck in the oven baking bread."

  I glanced at Maple and Wiley, their heads close in deep conversation. I leaned toward Iggy. "Hey now, where's this coming from?"

  Iggy sighed and slumped, his flames dimming. "It's just—when I baked for Nan that was enough. But now—I'm not content to just warm the home and cook the food."

  "Oh." My heart sunk and I felt like I weighed a thousand pounds. "Oh, Iggy. I want you to be happy. I'm sorry I'm not as good a baker as Nan was." I leaned my cheek into my hand. "I'll try harder—or if that's not enough, we can find you a new partner?" My stomach clenched at even saying the words.

  Iggy's eyes widened. "You're trying to get rid of me now?"

  I shook my head. "No, but you just said you were happier with Nan and—"

  He rolled his round eyes. "Oh, you're so daft sometimes."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "I meant that I didn't know there was this whole world out there before. But with you in the competition tent, and then at the carnival… I've just realized how much more there is to see. I like baking—but I get bored. I like a challenge and a change of scenery."

  I nodded, mulling over his words. "So… you don't mind being my flame?"

  "No… I don't mind being your flame." His mouth grew small and I had lean forward to catch his words over all the ruckus. "I rather like it."

  A huge grin stretched across my face. "You rather like it? I'll take that."

  He rolled his eyes. "Don't let it go to your head."

  I leaned my arm on the table to get closer, then immediately peeled it up again, the sticky surface pulling my arm hairs. Ow. And gross. I recomposed myself. "All right, Iggy. There's got to be some spell that'll let you go under water. I'll work on it."

  He scrunched up his face. "Eeee… maybe Maple can work on it."

  "Your faith in me is heartwarming." But I couldn't blame him. I hadn't really meant that I'd perform the spell either—I didn't trust myself with something that important yet… maybe ever.

  Iggy perked up. "I can leave part of me behind… you know, just in case."

  "Right." I'd forgotten that he could be in two places at once, though it weakened him and he didn't do it often. The thought of him being in two places made my head spin.

  Iggy sprouted little flame arms and he rubbed his palms together, grinning. "I can't wait!"

  "Me neither." Sam popped up at my elbow and I jumped. "Sssorry, Imogen. I didn't mean to ssscare you."

  I swallowed and waved a hand. "Oh… no, don't worry about it. You're just so stealthy."

  He blushed and dipped his chin, which melted into his neck. "I'm a sssneaky sssnake sssometimesss."

  I chuckled. "So you're excited to see the Mermaid Kingdom? I don't know what these guys are so worried about. I'm sure it's going to be amazing." I glanced over at Maple and Wiley, who still chatted away, their heads bent close. Maple giggled at something Wiley said, and he beamed. I shook my head. My poor innocent friend was digging herself into a love triangle, and I honestly couldn't wait to see how it played out. I had enough love drama of the disappointing variety—a rivalry between Wiley and Wool could prove to be juicy.

  Sam held his limp hands up by his shoulders like a begging puppy. He'd been a snake most of his life, and though he did a truly impressive job of acting human, he still hadn't mastered some nuances, like arms. "Yesss. I want to ssssee the kelp foressstsss and all the hidey holesss."

  "A kelp forest sounds nice." Though I couldn't say I was too eager to find any hidey-holes… or the things that lurked inside them.

  Rhonda and Francis drifted over, cutting through the crowd in a way that only a seer clinging to a hovering, deathly pale vampire could. A crusty old man trailed behind them and crowded round the table next to Sam.

  Rhonda gestured between the old guy with the bulbous red nose and pocked skin, and the rest of us. "Gang, this is the pirate John Fowler. John, everybody else."

  Wiley and Maple looked up and Wiley lifted a glass to him. "Nice to meet you, John. I'm Wiley."

  The man cackled a raspy, wheezy laugh. "Call me Fowler, 'at's what e'rybody else does, ’cause there ain't no one fouler." He burst into laughter again, revealing several missing teeth and a few gold
ones.

  Iggy scowled. "You're right if you're referring to your breath."

  The man leaned forward, glaring at Iggy. "Ah, the li'le flame 'as a big mouth."

  I held my breath and gritted my jaw, ready to defend Iggy in case of trouble.

  But the man burst into wheezing laughs again. "I like a flame wit' a li'le spark, eh!" He shook a thick, calloused finger at Iggy.

  Iggy reluctantly grinned and I relaxed a bit.

  A strong gust of wind battered the lopsided shutters of a window open. The wind billowed through the opening, sending my red hair blowing all around my face. I pushed it back, to see Fowler lunge forward, cupping his hands around the lantern. Though Iggy was fully encased in glass and safe from the draft, I couldn't help but warm toward the crusty old pirate. Anyone who was a friend of Iggy's was a friend of mine.

  Two old men rose from their game of checkers and relatched the shutters, and the chatter in the bar picked back up again.

  I smiled at Fowler. "Quite the storm out there. Are you worried about sailing in it?"

  He raised his white brows, which seemed all the whiter against his tanned, leathery skin. He took a draft of his beer, then set the mug back down, licking the foam from his lips. "'At's part of why we're here, lass. Trying to avoid the open seas with the Sansea Winds blowing it rough." He leaned forward, and Rhonda, Francis, Wiley, Maple, Sam, and I did the same to catch his words. "Some say it ain't the winds though, that be riling up the sea." He held two rough, red hands up and wiggled his thick fingers. "Some say it be monsters swarmin' and churnin' up the waves."

  Iggy's fire underlit his rough features and scraggly white beard.

  "And what do you say, pirate John Fowler?" Francis eyed him seriously.

  He paused for dramatic effect, then slammed his hands on the table, making us jump. "I say whatever gets me a leave on shore to enjoy land food, good beer, and pretty girls, and I be a grateful, rotten old pirate."

  "Here here!" Wiley lifted his mug, and we all clinked them together. From somewhere in the corner came the sound of smashing glass, and a tussle ensued, with the fighting men quickly broken apart by the crowd. I glanced over at the bartender, who eyed the skirmish wearily, then kept on tending bar.

  Charlie, the ferryman, caught my eye and we waved at each other. I considered going over to say hello, but the place was packed so tightly that it'd take me forever to get there and never mind back to the table again.

  I grinned. I'd never seen the Rusted Wreck so lively. It was kind of fun—as long as I was surrounded by my friends and safe from being involved in some bar fight. Francis magically summoned a stool, and to my surprise, Rhonda sat on it, then patted her lap. Francis slid into it and perched with his legs close together and long hands resting on his thighs.

  Rhonda reached around him for her beer and took a big swig. As she set it down, she caught me staring and lifted her brows.

  I shook my head. "It’s just, well, usually the girl sits in the guy's lap."

  She grinned. "Yeah, but look how light he is."

  I leaned way over and looked around the table. Francis hovered an inch above her lap. I righted myself and laughed. We spent the next hour chuckling at Fowler's stories, and drank our way through two more rounds. We shared a basket of greasy fried squid that, had I been more sober, I would not have touched with a ten-foot pole.

  "Well, lass, I ain't got eight arms but I do have eight inches!" Fowler burst into wheezing laughter as he delivered the punchline to a bawdy joke about a mermaid, an octopus, and pirate. I chuckled, warm and sleepy in my beer-induced buzz.

  The door to the pub clattered open, battering against the wall in the heavy winds. My hair blew around my face, and I pushed it back as the pub went silent.

  My heart stilled, and I gripped the edge of the table. I sat taller on the stool, trying to catch sight of who'd just entered. I hated that my first thought, and fear, was that it was Horace coming to get me.

  Francis floated up off Rhonda's lap and gazed out over the heads of the crowd, which were all turned to the door. A thin smile stretched across his angular white face. He lifted a long-fingered hand and waved. The tightness in my gut relaxed a smidge. He wouldn't wave at the magical kingdoms' archnemesis, would he?

  Francis floated back into Rhonda’s lap.

  “Who is it?”

  Francis raised a brow at me. “Your favorite prince, of course."

  My stomach tightened right back up again. I sat straighter in my chair, though I wobbled slightly, and grabbed Maple’s arm. The world spun as I pulled myself closer to her. “Do I look all right?"

  Her eyelids trembled as she fought to focus. "You lllook 'mazing." She clapped me hard on the back. Even in my tipsy brain, that registered as a very non-Maple thing to do.

  Hank slid through the crowd, pirates and patrons parting and bowing as he passed. His blue eyes shone, reflecting Iggy's bright light in the dimly lit bar. "Hi." His throat flushed red, as did his cheeks.

  Rhonda gave him a lopsided grin. "Pull up a stool—we're a few rounds ahead of you, but I'm sure you'll catch up."

  Wiley jumped up and offered him his seat.

  Hank waved him off. "No. I'm fine—really."

  "I'll get you a pint then." Wiley dashed off to the bar.

  Hank stood, drumming his fingers on the high table. He cleared his throat. Still, the bar remained quiet, most eyes turned our way, though a trickle of customers snuck out the side door and into the storm. "Kinda quiet in here, huh?" Hank's throat bobbed as he swallowed.

  "Not till you came in. Bacchanalia and fancy royalty don't go hand in hand, mate." Fowler swept into a dramatic bow and nearly knocked his mug over. Sam righted it just in time. "Sorry, I should call you prince, not mate, though you ain't my prince, I'll tell ya that."

  Hank gave a tight nod and gratefully took the mug of beer from Wiley as he bounced back to the table. "Bartender said it’s their cleanest mug, though truthfully, that's not saying much."

  Hank raised the mug high and nodded at the bartender, who gave a curt nod. The crowd watched uneasily. Poor guy. He'd told me before that he wished he could be normal—have a normal job, like working in a bakery—his passion. And do normal things, like go on dates. And here he'd just tried to have a night out, for the first time ever with us, and he couldn't even do that.

  "Talk about a buzzkill," Iggy muttered out of the side of his mouth.

  Hank heard and turned away, pretending he hadn't. The corners of my mouth pulled down. "Iggy. That's not nice."

  "It's true though—this place was hopping till the prince came in. They're probably afraid he's going to shut the whole thing down, or lock half of them up." He rolled his eyes. "More than half probably deserve it."

  I frowned, as something Iggy said gave me an idea. A fuzzy, soupy idea. My brain was not functioning at full capacity. What was it… oh right, buzzkill. Which made me think about being buzzed, which made me think—

  "Hank," I stage-whispered, and the whole table turned toward me. I swallowed. "I know how you can make them like you."

  A hint of a smile played across his lips—his full, delicious lips. It took me a couple of hazy moments to regain my concentration. I leaned forward, the heat of the glass lantern nearly singeing my arm. "Get the next round."

  Hank raised his thick brows. "Do you think that'd work?"

  Fowler clapped him on the back, which sent Hank lurching forward into the table. Everyone lunged to keep their mugs from toppling. "Take it from a rusty ol' pirate—anyone buyin' me next round is a friend."

  Hank grinned and his eyes locked onto mine. He kept them on me as he lifted both arms and called out in a loud, deep voice, "I hope everyone's thirsty—next round's on me… and the next after that."

  A moment of silence followed, then a great cheer went up. Strangers clapped Hank on the back, and the place bustled again as men and women pushed their way up to the bar. Hank smiled at me, and my whole body felt like it was glowing.

  5

&
nbsp; Fins

  A thick fog hung over the retreating sea, like clouds that had stayed up all night and now felt too lazy to head back up into the sky. Or maybe I was just projecting.

  We'd partied till dawn at the Rusted Wreck, and now I felt like a wreck myself. I yawned and scrubbed my hands down my face, then wrapped my arms around myself. I leaned into Maple for body heat and we shivered together. The opaque water reflected the gray sky and lapped at the boards of the pier.

  I yawned again and turned to Hank. "We really have to go in now? We couldn't wait till noon when it’s sunny and warm and I've had a chance to sleep?"

  He gave me a sympathetic smile, dark bags hanging under his eyes. "Humans will be arriving soon and we can't be seen doing magic. And if we wait till tonight, the rising tide will be dangerous to get into." He hid a yawn in the crook of his elbow, then lifted his head. "Amelia?"

  The event coordinator toed off her white pumps, which one of her assistants promptly scooped up. She rolled up the ankles of her white slacks and walked down the wooden planks of the pier till she stood ankle-deep in water. This same pier just last week had bustled with fair rides, noisy game booths, and crowds munching food on sticks.

  Now only a few lonely gulls circled overhead, cawing at the rising sun. Amelia shuddered and rubbed her arms. I whimpered, and Maple snuggled closer. We'd been instructed to dress light for our trip down to the Mermaid Kingdom, only I hadn't factored in the chilly breeze blowing in off the sea, or the brisk water.

  Amelia bent over, scooped up a couple of handfuls of water, and tossed them high into the air. She spread her fingers wide, and the droplets hovered midair.

  She pulled her hands wider, and the droplets grew into bubbles the size of gum balls, though one grew to the size of a beach ball.

  "All right, we've got bubble chews for most of you, and the protective bubble for Iggy." She gestured toward the big one.

  I grinned down at Iggy. He burned in the lantern at my feet, keeping my toes, at least, nice and toasty. "Aw. You're gonna be my little boy in a bubble."

  "I don't know what you're referring to, and I don't care to."