“As much as I’ve not enjoyed your little diatribe, I was wondering if I could have my boyfriend back,” I said.
“Let me think…no. But I will accept your hidden invitation to rip that nightlight of a head clean off your shoulders.”
“Not if I break the bulbs first,” I said, kicking him hard in the groin. He slammed against the wall. Sliding to the ground, he grabbed his balls and groaned. I grabbed the staff and pushed it under his chin. “Now, that was the easy way. This,” I said, pressing the staff against his throat while stepping lightly on his manhood, “would be the hard way. Pick one.”
“Ma—rina? So…sorry.”
His eyes...
Removing the staff from his throat, I fell to my knees and held him to me. “You’re back. You’re back. It’s okay. Let’s get out of here.” Driving the staff into the ground, the same orange flash blasted us out of the chamber and back to relative safety.
Jex flew to us and helped Troy to his feet. “You two all right?”
“We will be,” I said, wiping dirt and sweat from Troy’s face.
“I love you,” he said, touching my face. “But if I’m…I won’t hurt any of you. I need…help.” With that, he handed Jex the Joker card and, in a flash, disappeared into the dark night.
The stands, stage, and band slowly rose from the ground; the crowd was as silent as I’ve ever heard them.
“Okay, folks, we have a bit of a controversy,” said Kori, slightly unnerved. “Madame Helena, if you will.”
Madame Curtain Rods stood behind the judge’s table. “Ladies and gentlemen, fellow judges, we have a dilemma, do we not? Miss Valentine aided a fellow contestant. This is grounds for a severe deduction in points.”
“Oh, come on!” I screamed. “I helped a contestant of the OTHER team! Even Kori suggested someone needed to step in. No one did, except me.”
“It’s still a potential violation, Marina. Helping another is simply unacceptable—” Startled, Madame Helena stopped mid-sentence as a dull, but noticeable wave of boos erupted throughout the crowd.
“She helped my son.” Every head in the stadium looked to the luxury box. King Tombolo was on his feet, addressing the judges. “There is no foul there…only courage and love.” We shared a warm exchange of smiles. “If anyone wishes to go against courage and love, I urge them to speak now.” No one dared, not even Queen Zale, who simply sat like an ice sculpture. “I believe you may consider your dilemma resolved, Madame Helena.”
I’m fairly certain little puffs of smoke emitted from her ears. “Thank you, King Tombolo. I…much appreciate the assistance. Shall we, judges?”
After the usual rigmarole, Mr. Anderson handed Kori the results. “Okay, let’s see where we stand after match number two! Taking the earth element is team…Normals! Team Merpeople, you finished a distant second this time around. Normals, y’all lead by a whopping thirteen points!”
“We are so taking this,” said Polly smugly.
There were more claps from the crowd this time around; admittedly, their applause sounded incredibly out of place (way too used to boos or a sulky silence).
“The third and final team match, the fire element, will be held on April fifteenth,” said Kori. “And it’s an early one—or late one, depending upon your sleeping habits—three a.m. See you then!”
Any slight jubilation over winning tonight’s match was completely obliterated when the echo of Troy’s demon side floated within my ears. Gazing into the darkness, I wondered if his words haunted him. Was it possible he remembered nothing of his words or his actions when turned demon-side-out? If he doesn’t recall anything, the likelihood of Troy being The Dealer has never been greater.
*****
For over two weeks, Troy has been seeking guidance from the ancient Merpeople, the Sandtalians. He doesn’t talk much about his meetings in Sandtala, apart from them being ceremonial in nature. It was Treeva who told me that the Sandtalians were the key to cracking open any secret activities his demon side may have going on. In the meantime, Troy has been a sullen shell of his former self. Nothing I say seems to make a dent. His guilt ranked off the charts, and he was seriously worry-warting (not a word, I know) about being The Dealer, despite Gully essentially embodying a broken record, telling him over and over that she couldn’t detect his essence in the Joker card. Troy believes his demon side may leave an entirely different footprint. I suppose I’m being too cavalier; when Troy told me he didn’t remember anything the demon side said that night in the chamber, I felt like an angry monster was about to bust from my gut…and I knew exactly where to aim the messy result—on Doctor Tenly.
“Truth bypasses a severed core, flowing through the veins of one’s beginning,” said Doctor Tenly. “The spirits said nothing more?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Severed core could be two entities living inside one body,” offered Jex.
“Let me guess,” I said, “like a demon and a merman?”
Jex shrugged. “Never know.”
“Flowing through the veins of one’s beginning could be pointing to a particular point of origin or creation,” said Doctor Tenly, rubbing his forehead. “Well, more to research.”
“I need to know…do you think Troy’s The Dealer?” Today, Doctor Tenly would not toss me out after he was done kicking me sideways during Savior training. Oh, no, no—today, he will answer every question said angry monster intends to spew.
“Marina, I really have work—”
“Work to do. Yeah, I’ve heard, like everyday. I need some Doc time. Please.”
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say fin boy is much more interesting with the demon unleashed,” said Jex. “Which, of course, means he’s likely dealing the cards.”
“See, I didn’t ask you, so zip it. Doctor?”
Doctor Tenly stared at the floor. “Truthfully, I just don’t know. If we’re playing the odds, I’d say it’s fifty-fifty. Whatever the Sandtalians come back with should shed some rays on things.”
“So not what I wanted to hear. But, when he was delivering Normals to Zale, he was aware of it. He knew. So, wouldn’t he know if he was writing on cards, killing innocent people, planning to kill innocents, setting traps…”
“Big difference, there,” said Jex. “When Troy was the deliverer, he was on the same page as his demon self. He was doing what Zale forced him to do. Of course he’d remember.”
“Regardless of Troy’s feelings, whether guilt or hate or indifference, both the demon and the merman were sharing the same conscious awareness while delivering Normals,” Doctor Tenly added. “If the demon is acting on its own accord at present, Troy would be staunchly against whatever it does, thus, both would be on different conscious planes.”
“Kinda get it,” I said, looking at them warily. “But in simple speak…”
“Fishy doesn’t agree with demon. Demon sneaks out when fishy isn’t looking. Demon gets back before fishy knows he’s gone. Got it?” said Jex.
“Sadly, yes. Still, I don’t think it’s him.”
“Don’t think?” Jex quizzed.
“Know. I know it’s not him. Someone planted that card on him.”
“We have no way of knowing, Marina,” said Doctor Tenly. “But…I’m inclined to agree with you. Part of me feels that someone is going out of their way to make Troy look guilty. Granted, his past as the deliverer, his inability to remember what he says while in-demon, and those bizarre disappearances after the first match, the wish ceremony…”
“Oh, those? It’s nothing. Every time he was around the stadium area, he felt demon sparks, so he took off,” said Jex. “He’s who you saw by your cave during the wish ceremony, Marina. The place calms him or something.”
“WHAT?” I roared. “You knew where he was going all this time?”
“Yeah, what of it? He asked me not to say anything.”
“You didn’t think it was just a little important that he was close to tripping out every time he was in the presence of Madame Helen
a or Queen Zale or whoever might be lurking in the stands, like…”
“The Dealer,” supplied Doctor Tenly.
“Uh, YEAH! Jesus, Jex! This is major. Someone is trying to turn him, permanently.”
Jex stared at me for a moment. “Well, now that you put it that way…”
“Ugh! But who? Madame Bitch? The Dealer? Some deranged agent of The Dealer? The royal psychos?”
“I don’t know. One thing we do know: The Dealer has narrowed down the list of who will die,” said Doctor Tenly, holding up the Joker card with the word ‘Deliberating’ written on it.
“Wait! What about the witch? You know who the witch is…what if she’s The Dealer’s agent. She could be framing—”
“It’s not her,” said Doctor Tenly.
“Really? Are you removing Troy from your suspect list?”
“Not yet,” said the doctor.
“Well, if The Dealer could be Troy, then this witch could be his agent.”
“This is fun,” said Jex.
“Jex, leave,” said Doctor Tenly.
“Right, then. It’s about to get dull anyway.” Through the roof he flew.
“Marina, when I feel comfortable telling you about the witch, I will.” For the first time, I noticed how stressed he looked. Doctor Tenly always seemed to offset the stress with his cocky goofiness. Lately, though, he’s been much more severe.
“Are you okay?”
Doctor Tenly glanced at me, surprised. “I’m fine. I’m me.” Ah, hello to the cockiness, even if it was only a peep. “I need to ask you a question.”
“Go for it.”
“What do you know about Trey’s parents?”
Damn. Where’d that come from? “Um, not much. They left him with his grandfather when he was an infant. Does this have something to do with his extra talents?”
“Perhaps, yes. Gully is another mystery to me. Though it appears she has no extra talent beyond her regular gift, there’s something intrinsically unique about how she must keep her hair tied tight. And her brother, Guston…a hider! Those things are so bizarrely rare that a family history would help me understand their origins a bit more.” Doctor Tenly sat on part of a dummy I split in half during training.
“This will probably sound stupid, but…what does it matter? They are what they are, right? Even Trey. Who cares about the origins, at least right now?”
“Marina. That was one of the dumbest things I’ve heard you say, and you’ve said quite a few.”
“Well, I prefaced by saying it would sound stupid. Really didn’t need the extra salt in the wound.”
“Honestly, origins are the catalyst of the future,” he muttered.
“Origins are the…cat’s lisp of the future? What does that mean?” Crap. “What?”
“I was wrong. Not something I often say, but…that was, by far, the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you spew. C-a-t-a-l-y-s-t.” This would be a bad time to tell him I can’t spell in my head, but judging by his expression, my face tattled on me. “Catalyst. Catalyst.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Catalyst. I know the word.”
“Thank Poseidon for small favors,” he said.
“Since our talk has turned into me feeling like a dumb frick, I’m outta here.”
“Marina, one more question…do you know if Trey’s grandfather ever talked with him about his parents?”
“In the early days at Helena’s, Trey once mentioned his grandfather getting angry when he tried to ask about his mother. I guess Mr. Campbell told Trey to forget about his ‘disloyal’ father and ‘disinherited’ mother. And he never asked again.”
Doctor Tenly stared hard at the wall, then at the ceiling. “My God and Poseidon.” He was already halfway up the stairs when he turned to me and urgently added, “Marina, say nothing to Trey. Do you understand me? This is vitally important.”
“Of course, I promise.”
Nodding, he took off, leaving me in the basement to wonder and worry. I may have promised to keep my mouth shut around Trey, but I certainly didn’t promise not to nag Doctor Tenly to kingdom come…or snoop around myself. And when it comes to Trey, me, myself, and I were all in.
Chapter Eighteen
My Very Bloody Valentine
February: Fragile hearts
Monthly Life Caption: Bad things happen in small months
Mood: Unmentionable
Eating: Mostly leafy, some candy
Music: Too embarrassed to mention
I’ve given into my light side. I’m so ashamed. Despite the fact that my boyfriend was a moping mess, my Vomit Day hate has subsided this year. I’m smiling at stuffed cupids, singing to icky-sweet love songs, clapping enthusiastically at the town’s addiction to paper hearts, and even ‘awwing’ over jewelry commercials. Oh God. I might die.
Hosting this year’s Valentine’s Ball was Galeena, goddess of the gnomes. Invitations arrived by messenger gnomes about a week ago. Unfortunately, Mom had been fighting a nasty flu bug, and she wasn’t expecting to find a gnome in the bushes when she upchucked on her way to the car. He managed to issue our invitation and even recited Galeena’s request for attendees to wear beige or green gowns…before he passed out, covered in puke. Airianna hurried over to hose him down, since I was too busy gagging out my gallbladder. No wonder gnomes hate us.
Still, the request of a beige or green gown was like angry chick music to my lovey-dovey, possessed ears. I may have lost a little of my anti-Vomit Day edge, but it hasn’t completely evaporated—no pink or red dresses on this day, ever. Maile designed an ombre gown for me, where the beige faded into a forest green. It was so different and totally me. Of course, Troy could care less what I wore—this used to be a good thing. Now, it just means he cares so much about everything that he doesn’t care about anything. Hmm. I’m thinking that probably made zero sense. The bottom line: until the Sandtalians reveal their findings, he was bound and determined to brood. Granted, he was very hot while brooding. I just wish he’d brood with his hands on me. Instead, he acts like I’m some delicate flower in danger of wilting. With the amount of heat he hasn’t been applying lately, the wilting thing was of little concern.
The Valentine’s Day Ground Gala was being held in an undisclosed, underground marble dome. To keep its location a secret, circular plant pods collected guests and deposited them down a leafy slide. At the bottom of the slide was a vast onyx and white marble ballroom where shiny sabers adorned a back wall and an all-gnome band entertained the crowd with fiddles and folk music. In place of chandeliers, giant pink and red polka dot mushrooms illuminated the room. With Mr. Gibbs by her side, Mom proudly provided pastries for the event, though not many merfolk indulged (stuck up snobs).
“Marina!” Airianna, her pale pink dress flowing against her tiny frame, rushed over to me. “I have to talk to you. Oh, hiya Troy! You feeling better tonight? Doesn’t Marina look lovely?”
“I’m okay. Marina always looks beautiful. I’m going to grab some cakes.” He shuffled off, shoving his hands in his pockets and hanging his head.
“Trey, would you mind keeping an eye on Troy for a minute while I girl talk?” Airianna asked sweetly.
Trey kissed her on the cheek. “Not a problem.”
Once Trey was out of earshot, Airianna said excitedly, “I have info on Trey’s mother! Don’t be mad…I, uh, did a little brain digging in his subconscious.”
“Okay, how could I be mad at you when I was the one who enlisted you to poke around? How did you brain dig, anyway?”
At that moment, Meikle sauntered up to us in her short black and gray dress and military boots, stroking her bag. “I may have magically borrowed a little of Doctor T’s telepathic talents and imbedded them in Airi’s inner eye.”
Waving her hands, Airianna said, “How we did it really isn’t a biggie…but, what I found is. When I casually asked Trey about his parents, I saw a mental picture hidden deep in his subconscious—it was of his mother.”
“How, though? He was only a baby when
his parents gave him up,” I said.
“Infants can retain meaningful images,” supplied Meikle. “It was in my magic book. If babies are born with a talent or born to parents with talents, they’ll be able to hold pictures and voices in their mind, even if they can’t recall them as they age.”
“So, you saw her, then?!”
“Sure did,” said Airianna. “She had tan skin, green eyes as bright as Trey’s, and long white hair.”
“White hair…and Trey sprouted that white streak over the summer!” I said.
“Yep, and that’s not all. In the image, baby Trey’s vision held tight to a pendant around his mother’s neck.”
“Did you see what the pendant was?” I asked.
“An owl. A silver owl,” said Airianna. “It gets better. I heard a faint clip from his memory. It was his mother. As she put the owl pendant around him, she said, ‘This will protect you.’ Then, a man’s hand came into view and gave Trey’s mother a necklace with a fin pendant. After she put it on, she said to Trey, ‘You have the owl, I have the fin, and daddy will wear the ocean wave. We’ll always be connected.’”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I said.
“Trey might be the child of a merperson.”
“Exactly. And if we can find the necks wearing the wave or the fin—”
“We’ll find his parents,” supplied Airianna. “Ironic, isn’t it, considering everything? I may have fallen in love with a merman after all?”
“You three done gabbing?” asked Trey, wrapping his arms around Airianna’s waist. “Because I would like to dance with you.”
Smiling coyly, Airianna and Trey glided to the dance floor where, once again, Gully was dancing with herself.
OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) Page 31