“Though the team matches are over, there is still one more chance for the Merpeople to win the Overfalls. That chance rests on the shoulders of one contestant. Likewise, a sole member of team Normals will bear the burden of maintaining their lead and securing the win. Those two contestants…will be announced on the final night in June during the underwater festival sponsored by King Salverz.” The crowd booed, but, honestly, I think we were just too tired and sore to hear (and stress over) the identities of the two people who will go head-to-head in the final match. “The face-off match will take place in July, the exact date of which will be announced during the festival. Until then…”
Airianna, sporting a large bruise on her cheek, walked over and hugged me. “Thank you, Marina. Irving’s an ass of epic proportions.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I said.
At Airianna’s words, Ophelia winced, frowned, and studied the ground. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“Not your place to apologize for him, Ophelia. And I’m okay. Just…watch your step, there,” said Airianna, grasping Ophelia’s hands in hers.
“Baby girl!” Mom hurried towards me and threw her arms around me.
“Love you, but really ouch,” I said, wincing.
Mom immediately let me go. “I’m sorry, sweetheart! You were brilliant, all of you were. I’m so glad these matches are over!”
“There’s still the two-person party left,” Polly supplied.
“Oh, I know…I just choose not to remember, acknowledge, or otherwise give it the time of day until the day,” said Mom airily. “Now, how do you want to celebrate? Snack? Party? Yes, the mom is offering a p-a-r-t-y. Now would be the time to take advantage.”
“Only one word sounds good…home,” I said. “I’m unusually exhausted.”
“It’s the bite,” said Jex. “A Chimera’s bite, even when healed, drains you of vigor.”
“A three-headed, fire-breathing, venom-oozing, vigor-draining demon. Think that’s enough to warrant a ‘let’s go,’” I said, looping my arm through Airianna’s.
“Marina?” Troy gently grabbed my arm. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.” Blood trickled down his arm and forehead. “Are you okay?” I wanted to tend to his wounds and kiss him for hours.
“Yeah, you know, injuries don’t hurt me like…other things do,” he said, touching my face. “And, uh, I found this note on the Chimera. Figured you could give it to Doctor Tenly and Gully. It says: Fast-forward and scroll up to the path not yet traveled.” He handed me the note and ran his hand through the ends of my hair. “I’m glad you’re safe, Rubylocks.” With that, he ran away.
“Why the run? Does he have to run every time? And it’s really not so much the run as it is the away part. It’s upsetting,” I quipped with a pinch of whine.
“Speaking of run, we’re about to do that,” said Polly. “Meeks and I have plans.”
“Post-almost-death plans? What can top the exuberant ‘I fought death and won’ sentiment?” I asked.
“Stuff,” said Meikle.
“In other words, we’re keeping you out of the loops,” Polly clarified, waving as she and Meikle rushed off.
I couldn’t stop from pouting. “Loops? There are loops? As in more than one?”
“You did splendidly!” Doctor Tenly and Treeva joined us.
“Here,” I said, shoving the two notes in his hand. “Both were clipped to a Chimera. Troy found one; I found the other. Do you think they have something to do with The Dealer?”
“Gully?” said Doctor Tenly, handing her the notes after reading them.
“They’re not at all connected to the assassin. Whoever wrote them is terrified of something, but wants to help,” said Gully a few seconds later.
“What about the messages themselves? Any idea what they mean?” I asked. “I thought it might have to do with the scroll, since both notes used the word.”
Doctor Tenly nodded. “Think you’re right, but I believe Gully has picked up on something else.”
“Time travel,” she said. “Both notes suggest time travel.”
“Time travel! Can we do that?” I said.
“Not until we understand more about where this person wants you to go,” said Doctor Tenly. “I have ideas, as always.”
“And I have none, as always,” I groaned. “Head hurts, pillow good.”
“Come on,” said Airianna, grinning. “Home.”
Since Polly and Meikle had to take care of whatever, and Ophelia was busy arguing with Irving, Jex—holding Spritz, who was busy licking the marks left by the lava restraints—Trey, Gully, Maile, Benji, Airianna, Doctor Tenly, Treeva, Mr. Gibbs, Mom, and I took the beach route home. As we neared my house, Spritz jumped from Jex’s arms and rushed to my window, barking and growling.
I ran to catch up with the pup, but stopped suddenly when my window came into view. There, glowing purple around the frame, were countless playing cards—the one of spades, hearts, diamonds, and clubs—nailed to the house in the shape of a “D.” Approaching the cards, I saw the same word written on the face of each one: Decided.
“It’s after every damn match,” said Mom. “Why? What does it mean?”
“The Dealer’s been sending us a message beyond the cards this whole time,” I said. “The Dealer plans to kill after the final match.”
“And that’s not all,” said Gully. “The decision has been made. The victim has been chosen.”
Mom started angrily ripping the cards from the side of the house.
And then, it happened. I cried. I fell to my knees and sobbed. Airianna wrapped her arms around me, stroking my hair. Jex was right. The tears finally fell for the one I needed now more than anyone else—for the one who was so close, yet completely out of reach.
Chapter Twenty-One
Promenade
There are many words that rhyme with stag—nag, lag, hag. Yeah, okay, we’ll stop there. Well, thanks to my brain, I feel crappier than I did slapping on my makeup, straightening the hair, and putting on a truly stunning dress for no one. Oh, God, this sucks in a bad way, especially when I consider how this night might have gone—must not think about it, unless I’d like to accompany my dateless self with mascara tears.
“Baby girl! Picture time!” Mom trilled.
Ugh. The dreaded prom picture parade—totally a mom thing, I get it, although I’m pretty sure she’d rather take pictures of her daughter with a date than with, uh, herself. Ten bucks says Mom’s subconscious will quickly substitute Spritz for my missing date after she realizes how pathetically empty the frame looks with just me. Placing my pāua shell necklace around my neck, feeling terribly lonely, I gave myself the once-over and congratulated my hair and skin on a surprisingly problem-free night. I slipped on my daisy-adorned heels Maile designed to match my float-y, butter cream-yellow dress. Walking into the living room, Mom clasped her hands over her heart.
“You are a vision, sweetheart! You look absolutely beautiful! And I love the part-up hairstyle. There’s just one thing missing,” she said, adding a dainty daisy clip to the back of my hair. “There. Little something from Mama to baby girl.”
“Thank you, Mom. I love it,” I said. “Better than a corsage.” Oh, damn. I didn’t mean to ignite the sad-mom head-tilt.
“I’m so sorry about Troy. Even though he did the only thing a man in love could do, given the circumstances…you deserved the perfect prom.”
“At least I’m getting a prom, right? It wasn’t that long ago we figured the only prom I’d get was one of dirty uniforms, drugged punch, and a prom queen who’d be subjected to electroshock therapy when crowned.”
“That’s true. Great way to look at it. That’s my girl.” After a brief pause full of artificial nods and plastered smiles, Mom said, “Still sucks.”
“Oh, it totally blows.”
Laughing, Mom started taking pictures, and I did what any single girl in a prom dress would do when crying wasn’t a viable option—I
hammed it up for the camera. “Well, it can’t be any worse than my prom. My date let me fall into a ditch. I was wearing white. That’s all I’m saying. You know, I think we should get some with you and Spritz.”
Yep. What’d I tell you?
After ten minutes of picture-taking—and me trying to learn more about her prom disaster—the doorbell rang.
“Polly! Maile! Come on in here, gorgeous girls!” said Mom, happily snapping candid photos.
“I don’t have a date. Not even my obvious beauty can alleviate the piss off,” said Polly.
“Mom’s right, though. Y’all look amazing. Maile, I swear, you could dress all of Hollywood.” Polly had on a flirty pink number with periwinkle butterfly appliqués on the shoulder straps, and Maile’s slate gray, one-shoulder gown with a crystal and lace overlay was something Cinderella would break her glass slippers to own.
“You look nice, too, Marina. Very princess-like,” said Polly. “With the hair, you really only match one of the singing, shrilly-voiced, impossibly perfect animated princesses. The finned one. Ironic isn’t it?”
“Yeah, thanks. Where’s Gully?”
“Benji asked her at the last minute,” said Maile, scratching Spritz’s little head.
“Should be a fun night for him when Gully starts dancing with herself,” Polly huffed.
“I have a feeling Benji will have his eyes full of Ophelia all night,” I said.
“You know Irving didn’t even pick her up? He sent an ugly purple limo for her,” said Polly.
Shaking her head, Mom said, “Hopefully, she’ll wake up before he breaks her heart. Be there for her, if he does…that’s all you can do.”
Polly shrugged. “I’ve already been there for her. I even had the decency to tell her the up-do she chose for tonight made her head look like an alien and Irving would laugh.”
“Uh, well, that was honestly blunt of you, Polly,” said Mom, widening her eyes at me. “Let’s get a few more pictures before we get y’all on your way.”
“How has business been, Mrs. Valentine?” Maile asked as we posed for pictures.
“Booming since the last match. I’m actually supplying all the baked goodies for tonight’s prom. Unfortunately, I’m too tired to go. Mrs. Waterberry hired some pixies to keep an eye on everything for me.”
“Good choice,” offered Polly. “No threat of them eating too much.”
Once Mom was finally done snapping her fingers sore, we hopped in Doctor Tenly’s limousine and headed for the prom.
The limousine dropped us off in an empty lot next to Sprinkles, where a large cloud-shaped structure now stood emitting tiny puffs of stardust…the very same Troy bottled for me in Peppermint’s Forest. And just like that, my heart did the whole achy-longing thing I’ve been trying to avoid.
“Let’s get this over with,” Polly growled.
Maile, Polly, and I trudged into the building, only to be accosted by the prom photographer.
“Say ‘cheese’ for a night to remember!” he sang, aiming his old-fashioned camera at us.
Polly clamped her hand over the lens. “This is not a night to remember for everyone. Kindly give consideration to the dateless.”
“Honestly, it’s just like card companies at Vomit Day—not everyone is part of a couple,” I groaned.
“Ask before taking someone’s picture, 'kay? Good.” Polly stormed ahead.
“Sorry,” I said to the man, his face contorting like he had just eaten a sour candy.
“W-would you like your picture taken?” he asked gingerly.
“Not actually, no,” I said. “Sorry. Again.” Poor man will never shoot a picture without asking ever again.
The oval room twinkled with floating pixie dust, and the high ceiling resembled an endless starry sky. Low-lying fog covered the floor as Mom’s enchanted tables of delectable goodies circled the room.
“Whoa. What is up with Katrina’s ensemble?” asked Maile.
“Looks like a slutty and drab attempt at Marie Antoinette,” said Polly.
“We can hope her head comes off by the end of the night,” I said, the vision of which wasn’t at all unappealing. Should I be disturbed by my mind? “Kinda curious about her date. Could be wrong, but didn’t the hooded cloak look fall under fashion victim after the Medieval era?”
“Certainly not the most flattering look. You can’t even see his face,” said Maile. “Although, doesn’t the Zale clan wear purple robes and stuff?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if daddy Zale forced her date to dress the part in order to escort his precious princess to the prom. Try saying that five times fast,” I said.
Polly cocked her head to one side, staring at Katrina’s date. “Maybe he didn’t want to look at her all night. Face it, the only thing she has going for her is a decent rack and passable buttocks. The hood affords him a sort of target-only vision. That way, he can eliminate her face altogether. Smart guy. I’m off to sulk. Don’t join me.”
Watching Polly walk away, I turned to Maile. “Well, should we perch and cheer ourselves up with gossip about all the weird pairings, ugly dresses, and hideous dancing?”
“Actually, I’m just going to stand in the corner, alone,” she said, staring at the floor.
Studying the intense look on her face, I wondered if she was really a wallflower by choice. “Maile, apart from wishing your boyfriend could be at these balls, is there a reason you always stand alone? You can tell me.”
Maile bit her lip, her forehead lined with worry crinkles. “Sometimes…I can see Odette, Ophelia’s sister…I can see through her eyes, see what she sees. I even try to show her what I see. I’m only able to connect when Katrina is in the vicinity.”
“My God, Maile. Have you told any of this to Doctor Tenly?”
“No, and I don’t want to, not yet. When I show her what I see, especially when Ophelia is in the picture, I think it alleviates a little pressure from having all those feelings pumped into her. Please, don’t tell anyone. I have my reasons.”
Hesitantly, I agreed. “For now, okay. But this is huge, Maile. Thinking way big picture here, but this may help us free the Normals from Zale’s network, or destroy it. Maybe both.”
“Which is part of the reason no one can know. I need you to trust me.”
One look into Maile’s eyes and the non-verbal couldn’t be any louder. “Total trust.”
Nodding with a relieved smile, Maile headed to a quiet corner of the room. Sighing, I decided to study the room of outwardly cheerful people. My tolerance of the happy-happy couples was wearing thin when I noticed a crack in the façade, revealing an underlying reality: handsome faces tarnished by internal ugliness; peaceful countenances disturbed by anger and fear boiling beneath the skin; lonely eyes unmasking longing hearts. Life really was full of voices leaving the unsaid, unspoken.
“Doing okay, there?” Doctor Tenly looked surprisingly dapper, despite the unkempt beard and hair of his Principal Jeepers persona.
“Eh, I’d say half a hunky and less than a quarter of the dory.”
“Ah, well, at least your disappointment hasn’t affected the Marina-speak I’ve come to appreciate, my utter brain confusion notwithstanding. Speaking of brain boggling…Meikle and Bobby. Who’d have thought it?”
“Hardly a soul. Your pride must be brimming tonight, though. Trey’s the good kind.”
Doctor Tenly beamed. “Exceedingly proud, and we had a moment this evening when Airi brought him an aqua bow tie to match her dress.”
“And Trey doesn’t do the match-y, match-y.”
“No, he doesn’t, and he came to me for advice.”
“Since he’s sporting the aqua accessory, I’m guessing you told him it would make his girlfriend happy and that’s what boyfriends should do.”
“Naw, I told him he looked like a fool in love already, so a ridiculously bright bow tie hardly mattered. It was our first father-son talk, without the son knowing, of course.”
“And you’re such a natural,” I said,
smirking.
“Yes, I was strangely surprised by my natural dad ability.”
“Even you in all your brilliance can shock yourself,” I mused.
Gazing over my shoulder, Doctor Tenly said, “And sometimes it’s the conflicted semi-beings who bring the shocks.”
I followed his gaze to find a tuxedo-wearing, featherless angel moving through dancing couples, looking like he flew right out of a magazine.
Bowing his head, Jex said, “Savior. Looking lovely tonight.”
“No wings?”
“Yeah, well, when I described the prom plight of a certain Savior to the angel authority, they gave me the night feather-free. Know I can’t make the perfect prom for you, but I thought may—”
“It’s perfect enough,” I said, taking his hand. “Thank you.”
“I can be surprisingly thoughtful and gentlemanly. May I escort you to the dance floor?”
“You’re the very definition of gentlemanly,” I teased as we headed into slow dance land.
Pulling me close, he whispered, “Remember when you asked me if there was anything I hadn’t done?”
I nodded. “You said ‘no.’ Didn’t stun me.”
“I might’ve lied. There is one thing I’ve never done before.”
“Amaze me.”
Staring into my eyes, he said, “Fallen in love.”
I smiled and rested my head against his chest. “Amazement accomplished. Maybe love is yet to come.”
“The coming part sounds hopeful.”
“You just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”
“What can I say? I can’t shed the me in me.”
“That’s one confusing, yet strangely simple way of putting it. Here’s another theory: you’re afraid of falling in love, so you use wit to keep your mind from that deep, dark well called the heart.”
He squinted at the ceiling. “Perhaps. Mainly I just like being the wisest smartass in the room.”
With Jex, the night was full of witty wordplay and lots of laughter. The time ticked on without my notice. Before long, Muriel Yoots was on stage to announce the prom king and queen.
OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) Page 35