I was so distracted by my sadness for the royal family’s ghostly image that I didn’t notice Mauvrey sneak up on me. As a result, I jumped slightly when she spoke.
“What is the matter, Crisa, not having fun?” she asked innocently.
Mauvrey had somehow managed to change and redo her hair in the last twenty minutes. It was a shockingly fast turnaround. So much so that, if I didn’t know any better, I would have had trouble believing that the soaking wet, frazzled girl I’d left to the mercy of a seagull just a short while ago was the same composed princess-of-darkness standing before me now.
My nemesis had changed into a coral-colored dress with actual pieces of coral around the collar that looked like small spikes. It suited her a lot better if you asked me, as did the overall sharp, twisted shape of her gown.
Mauvrey had an unusually large glass of punch in her hand and an expression of eerie contentment on her face. I took a step back and eyed her cautiously.
“Hardly,” I replied. “Why exactly do you look so happy? Destroy some other poor girl’s self-esteem when I wasn’t around to stop you?”
Mauvrey’s smile spread like a disease across her porcelain cheeks. “Very funny, Crisa. Actually, I am happy about what is going to happen next.”
“And that would be?”
“This.”
Mauvrey threw the contents of her massive glass of punch at me. My hair, face, and upper body were soaked with the sticky, red liquid.
Okay, it was my own fault. I’ll admit I probably should’ve seen something like this coming.
Alas, I didn’t. And now I have to decide how I’m going to play this.
Hmm, the way I figured, I had two options here—freak out and give Mauvrey the satisfaction of upsetting me, or remain calm, cool, and collected like it didn’t bother me at all.
Freaking out would lead to me punching Mauvrey in the nose, which is what Blue would do. Keeping calm would dissolve the intensity of the situation, which is what SJ would do. The first option would be so much more satisfying—especially since I actually really liked this dress. But the second choice was way wiser in theory.
Dang, the SJ half of my conscious wins this round.
I nonchalantly wiped some of the liquid off my face with the back of my hand. “And what, Mauvrey, did you intend to accomplish with that?” I asked.
She was clearly taken aback by my lack of reaction, but retained her superior, cocky tone nonetheless.
“You are soaking wet and your dress is utterly stained all over,” Mauvrey reminded me. “The only way out of here is back through the ballroom. Thus, you are going to look like a fool when you traipse back out there in front of everyone looking like this. Well, more of a fool than usual, I should say.”
Don’t lose it. Losing it will give her the upper hand.
“Mauvrey, Mauvrey, Mauvrey. And here I thought you were better than that,” I said as I casually began to squeeze the punch out of my hair—wringing it like a towel.
My nemesis crossed her arms. “What are you going on about?”
“While your silly prank is a good one by clichéd, teenage girl standards,” I explained, “it’s still pretty lame for our situation. What’s the matter, Big Girtha busy or something?” Mauvrey narrowed her eyes. “Lady Agnue found her and Jade wandering around the halls. They are grounded for leaving the ball without permission.”
“Got it. Well, good effort anyways. It’s not your fault, I suppose, that on your own you lack the creativity to execute any interesting form of revenge.”
“Well, you still have to go back out there as a dripping wet mess,” Mauvrey snapped. “And there is no ladies’ restroom back here to even allow you to get cleaned up a little.”
“Yeah, but there is a boys’ bathroom,” I countered.
“What?”
“My dress is dark-colored, and the stain isn’t that noticeable. I’ll just go clean myself up in the boys’ bathroom,” I said, gesturing to the door behind me.
“You cannot do that,” she stuttered. “It is the boys’ restroom; you cannot go in there.”
“Again, Mauvrey, a touch of outside-the-box thinking would do you some good. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I picked up the front bustle of my skirt and pushed past her.
“Oh,” I added just before exiting. “And have a lovely rest of your evening.”
I left my dumbstruck enemy and entered the boys’ room without hesitation, admitting to myself that handling the situation that way had been rather satisfying. I would have to thank SJ later for the advice.
For now though, my attention was drawn to the interior of the bathroom, which turned out to be an even brighter shade of yellow than the hallway I’d left behind. This bright paint emphasized the warm glow of the golden, seashell-shaped towel racks and sinks at the center of the room, giving me the overall feeling that it was daytime rather than night.
I proceeded to turn on one of the sink’s faucets and clean myself up—splashing water on my face and rinsing out the sticky redness from my hair. After a few moments, I felt a light gust of cold air and the scent of the ocean against my face. I glanced over my shoulder and saw an open window in the corner—its silk curtains fluttering in the breeze of the outside world just beyond. I turned off the tap and walked over to it curiously.
Interesting . . .
Some fifteen minutes later, my dress was dragging on the sand in my wake as my feet were periodically splashed by the cool swell of the rising tide.
Madame Lisbon would’ve been mortified.
The open restroom window had been too tempting an escape to pass up. So, despite the fact that I hadn’t known where it would lead me, I’d chosen to shimmy through it. Not an easy trick, mind you, considering the sheer size of my gown.
As it turned out, my small portal to freedom ended up depositing me in an unmanned dumpster area at the very back of the castle. And—moving quickly and silently in the darkness thanks to my bare feet after that—I somehow managed to sneak over a nearby fence and down an old footpath naturally carved into the cliffside without getting caught. Which, again, I did while wearing this ridiculously poofy dress.
How’s that for stealthy?
Having successfully stayed out from under the line of sight of the castle’s lighthouse and guards on duty, I was now down on the beach and finally alone. The only reminders of the ball were the faint traces of music that danced in the wind. But soon, even they were drowned out by the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea.
The combination of being out here by myself—away from all the pomp and circumstance—and doing something that was against, like, a dozen rules gave me such a rush of calm and delight I couldn’t help but feel elated. I walked along the empty beach in a state of bliss for what seemed like a few minutes. Although I guess it must’ve been a lot longer than that, because when I turned around to survey the way I’d come, the glowing castle on the cliff was so far behind me it might as well have been a firefly.
The wind was starting to pick up then, causing the few seagulls that had been flying around out here to soar off in search of their nests.
For a second I thought about following their example and heading back to the castle. However, that’s when I saw a small stretch of beach that extended out into the ocean about forty yards away. It was a natural path made of piles of sea rocks and stones. And without remorse I soon found myself following the risky, but irresistible impulse to get across it.
It was tricky work, and I had to tread very carefully because the rocks were slippery and it was hard to see. Eventually though, I succeeded in making it to the edge of the strip. Once I did, I put my hands on my hips triumphantly and gazed back at the beach some hundred feet away.
My vision having fully adjusted to the night, from this vantage point I was now able to notice the cliff ’s idiosyncrasies. For one, its shoreline curved in and out like a hunchback’s spine, making it so that only the bluff I’d come down and another on my left could be seen. That second one
was nothing like the bluff I had used though. Its edges crept toward the ocean in the form of a plateau with thinning innards that looked like jagged, rocky fingers stretching into the sand.
Even from this distance I could tell it was huge and intricate and one of the most intriguing constructs of terrain I’d ever seen. I considered how deep it went and what lay beyond. But I was unable to ascertain either, as that was where the bluff rounded and caused the rest of the realm’s edge to bend out of sight.
I turned my head and focused on the cliffside itself.
At first it looked as if it had been discolored with dark spots. Then I squinted my eyes and realized that what was actually dotting the cliffside was a selection of caves and crevices jutting in and out of the rock that lined the beach.
In no mood to head back right away, I gingerly sat upon my patch of rock and stared off at these caves, wondering if they were all interconnected and, if so, how intricate the resulting tunnel system must’ve been. Then I wondered if anyone had ever tried to navigate their way through them. And then I wondered about the logic behind leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to help a person find their way back from anywhere. It didn’t seem like the best of laid plans in retrospect, as miscellaneous wildlife could’ve easily just eaten the trail and—
“Well, don’t you look like a fish out of water?”
I let out a small squeak of surprise. I hadn’t expected to see much of anything out here in the middle of the night. But I especially hadn’t expected to see a half-fish, half-human blonde girl pop out of the water and start playing with the taffeta on my hemline.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I usually go hang out by that rock over there,” the mermaid said, pointing to a lightning bolt-shaped formation at the edge of a similar strip of rocks I hadn’t noticed before.
“But it’s taken tonight,” she explained. “Another mermaid and her beau are sucking each other’s faces off. Like, get a coral reef already, am I right? Anyways, hi, I’m Lonna. What’s your story?”
Lonna, Lonna . . . Why does that name ring a bell?
Maybe SJ was right and I should’ve spent less time mocking our lessons and more time listening to them.
Then it hit me. “You’re one of the princesses of Mer. Lonna Langard, right?”
“So? What of it?” the mermaid asked.
“Nothing, just . . . I thought Mer-people weren’t supposed to come this close to shore. What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Same as you, I would guess,” she said. “I needed some space, felt like breaking some rules. Any of that sound familiar?”
I huffed in amusement. “More than you know, Lonna. More than you know.”
We both smiled at the similarity. It was always nice to meet someone you had stuff in common with even if, you know, species wasn’t one of those things.
“I’m Crisa,” I finally said. “Well, it’s Crisanta Knight really. But that’s not the point. It’s nice to meet you, Lonna.”
I extended my hand and in response Lonna put down the piece of taffeta she’d been toying with and reached up to shake it. When our fingers were just a few inches away from touching though, her eyes suddenly widened and she yanked her arm away.
“What are you trying to do, kill me?” she barked angrily as she shot back a solid seven feet in the water.
“What? No. What’s wrong?” I stammered.
Lonna rubbed her wrist as if it was stinging and eyed me carefully. “You . . . don’t know?” she asked.
“Know what?”
“I thought everybody knew.”
“Knew what?” I repeated.
“That bracelet you’re wearing,” Lonna said, gesturing to the gift Marie had given me. “It’s made of pearls.”
“So?”
“So pearls are Mer-people’s greatest weakness. They sort of suck the life from our bodies, drying us out like those fish sticks you land folks are so nuts about.”
I raised my eyebrows, genuinely shocked. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Lonna replied. “Why do you think we let you two-leggers have all of our oysters for food? We want those things out of the ocean and eaten before they have a chance to grow their awful pearly by-products.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know. Honest. But here, look.” I removed the bracelet and tossed it aside as if it was made of nothing more than plastic beads and string. “Now we’re good, right?” I asked her hopefully.
Lonna twirled her hair for a moment, but then shrugged. “Okay, yeah. We’re good.”
She swam back over to the rocks and swiftly went back to playing with the taffeta at the bottom of my dress. It was a bit of an awkward way for two people to hang out really. But I had already ticked Lonna off once and didn’t want to provoke her any further, so I resigned to let the girl have her fun. Plus, she just seemed so fascinated by the sparkly material that I would’ve genuinely felt bad swatting her away.
Hmm, I guess mermaids—even mermaid princesses—can’t exactly wear fancy dresses underwater.
That sucks.
My new friend’s hair was blonde, like I said, but even at this proximity it was hard to gauge the exact shade due to the fact that it was soaking wet and cloaked in nighttime. Her eyes were bright purple though, of that I was certain, and they matched the seashells she had in her hair and the bathing suit-style top she was wearing.
Finally, after a decent amount of time had passed I decided to try speaking to her again. I wasn’t quite sure how forthcoming she’d be. For one, I’d apparently almost killed her with an accessory a few minutes ago. And two, the Sea Silence Laws said we weren’t supposed to speak to one another at all. But I had to give it a shot.
I mean, come on, how often does one get the chance to chat with an actual mermaid?
“I like your sea shells,” I attempted.
“Duh, everyone likes purple,” Lonna replied absentmindedly.
Okay, so I guess mermaids don’t like small talk. Noted.
I sat there quietly for a couple more minutes until eventually I elected to give conversation another go. Not that having a mermaid play with your dress fabric wasn’t a delightfully strange pastime but, frankly, I was getting bored.
Maybe a more serious topic of conversation would get her to talk to me with sufficient depth. But what could I possibly say to instigate that?
Ooh, never mind. I got it. And it’s so obvious too.
“So, Lonna,” I started all mischievously. “What are your thoughts on the Sea Silence Laws?”
Oh yeah, I’m controversial like that. It doesn’t matter if you’re human, fish, or something in between—politics always get some kind of rise out of a person, and Lonna is no exception.
“They’re stupid,” the mermaid replied sharply. “We used to be friends with two-leggers. Made life more interesting, you know—being friends with another species. Of course, ever since those dumb holes started appearing we’ve been shunned like they’re our fault.”
I cocked my head. “What holes?”
“In the In and Out Spell,” Lonna responded. “Stupid, lame-o Fairy Godmothers. Dude, just because you can’t keep your magic junk together doesn’t mean you’ve gotta be totally rude to those of us who know about it.”
“Wait. What?”
Lonna abruptly stopped twiddling the taffeta.
I could see the gears turning in her head as her eyes fogged over and she stared at the wet rock between us. She’d clearly said something she wasn’t supposed to and was internally panicking while attempting to figure out how to play it cool and act like she hadn’t.
“Lonna,” I said, trying to get her to keep talking. “What do you mean by holes in the In and Out Spell?”
She didn’t move.
“Lonna, what are the holes?” I tried again more earnestly.
Still nothing.
“Lonna!”
Okay, another lesson learned—don’t raise your voice to a mermaid.
They offend easily.
Lonna’s eyes shot up from the rocks and met mine. Her glowing purple corneas fixated on me so intently, but curiously, that they anchored every bit of my focus.
Then, without warning she tersely huffed and tossed her wet hair over her shoulder. A bit of water hit me in the face, but our staring match at the moment was so intense that I didn’t feel the need to even blink, let alone wipe it off.
“You want answers, Crisa?” she said suggestively, as if posing more of a challenge than a question. “Go and find them yourself.”
Although I seriously would’ve liked to, there ended up being no time to respond to this vague proposition. As soon as Lonna uttered the last syllable of her sentence, she flashed a devious smile, winked at me, and dove back into the water before I could endeavor to get anything else out of her.
She was gone in the blink of an eye. The surrounding world went silent once more except for the sound of the tides. And I found myself alone in the dark with a soggy hemline and way too many unanswered questions.
Twenty-Three Skidd
his is a bad idea,” SJ warned.
I nodded. “You’re right. It’s stupid, reckless, and could have disastrous consequences.”
“I’m so proud of you!” Blue practically gushed as she put on her riding gloves.
Okay, backstory time.
Late last night after I got back from my walk on the beach, Blue’d had the brilliant idea to go undercover and compete in the boys’ Twenty-Three Skidd tournament today.
After Daniel’s assertion at the ball that girls could not hack it as heroes in such an event, I had been inspired enough to do the same. Furthermore, I’d kind of always wanted to give the game a try.
Twenty-Three Skidd was the most popular sport in our realm. A long time ago, jousting had been the preferred game of choice for Book’s heroes and athletes. However, one day some genius was all, “Hey we’ve got Pegasus horses. Wouldn’t that make the game more interesting?” And (since they were obviously right) this adjustment was made to the game permanently.
Following that, one year at the Century City Summit a Fairy Godmother named Belinda Skidd described a strange, aggressive game that she had observed while visiting Earth on some business. It was called “Lacrosse,” and it was said to be the most fearsome sport in all the realms.
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