The Savage Blue

The room is draped from floor to ceiling in plush, scarlet velvet. Taper candles flank the edge of the table in front of me. A neon PSYCHIC sign hangs above the day bed that I lay Kai on. Her hair spills over the side like a waterfall and her hand hangs off the couch like she’s reaching out to the ghost of a prince who sure as hell isn’t me.

I try to roll my shoulder out but the pain is like a hot poker digging into me. So I sit as still as I can until the pain becomes numb.

In front of me is a deck of tarot cards. The borders are brown with age, but the scenes the cards depict are as bright as if printed hours ago. Three cards are laid out facing me. A heart with three swords driven through it, ten coins hovering around a couple in a garden, and then there’s the Devil with a naked man and woman chained on either side of his throne.

The Devil card is singed at the edges. I wonder, why do people always picture the devil as being red? Mrs. Santos says hell would be a cold place. Somewhere where life and breath and everything that makes you happy gets sucked right out. When I think of hell, I think of colds and blues. I think of Nieve and her cold lips. I’m about to pick it up when the skinny, mustached man returns and says, “I wouldn’t touch those if I were you.”

I retract my hand instantly. The last thing I need is to stick my hand in a pot of psychic fire or whatever. “Why?”

“Because they aren’t yours to touch.” He sits across from me wearing a jewel-tone blue suit that’s tailored to his every angle. I’ve always wondered what wearing those things would be like. Granted, I wouldn’t top it off with a pink tie and a matching hanky, but still. I’d clean up well. “Who are you?”

“Comit,” he says, unbuttoning his blazer to reveal a supercrisp shirt and black suspenders. Do people even wear suspenders anymore? “Charlie Comit. I live here.”

Despite the suit and facial hair that make him look older, a twinkle in his blue eyes reveals something that is young and full of life. When he touches the tip of his mustache, I notice an elaborate red garnet ring.

“Why did you help me?” I ask.

“Would you believe me if I said I was a good Samaritan?”

“You can be good and still do bad things.”

“I suspect you speak from experience.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs on the table, careful not to touch the cards with his polished, black leather shoes.

“Hey guy, you’re the one that helped me out of the car. You could’ve waited for the ambulance people to do it. Are you like a wizard? Because out of everything I’ve seen the past few days, that’s one I haven’t gotten around to.”

Comit smiles, holding up his cane for me to see. The staff is dark cherry wood. Tiny wings, leaves, and intertwining branches are carved carefully all along it. It ends with a golden arrowhead, which makes a sharp click sound when he slams it on the floor.

“When I was told to be careful of the Sea People trolling about on the boardwalk, I had no idea they meant you.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I get up, knocking my chair back. “Know what? I don’t even know you, man.”

“Tristan, please.” Comit stands and places a hand on my arm. “I only meant that I’ve seen you on the boardwalk. Even in the throngs of people, you stood out, and now I understand why.”

“That’s not creepy at all.” I pick up my chair and settle back down.

“I can identify with being different. That’s why I chose to make a home here in Coney Island.”

“Different? You look pretty normal to me.” Then I add, “normalish.”

Comit laughs and rests his staff across his lap. “I was one of nine kids. Father was a ranch hand in Wyoming, and I was so little that no one paid attention to me.

“Then one day, my dad realized there was something different about me. The farm animals listened to me and did as I asked. From the stallions to the barn mice. He tried to beat it out of me a few times. Said, ‘God would never make something so unnatural.’” At the last bit, he takes on a drawl. I wonder how many times he’s said it to himself.

“But in the end,” he continues, “my daddy was smart. Knew how to stay alive. Decided God don’t make imperfections. Made a few bucks off me.”

I break the intensity of his eyes by checking on Kai. She makes a whimpering noise from the couch and curls up even tighter, like she’s in a cocoon.

“Lucky for me, the circus rolled in. I ran off. Started as a lion tamer. Ain’t no one in any state had a lion tamer so young. I made my own way through this.” He holds his hands out and balls them into fists, as if everything he is can be contained in the center of his palms. “And soon enough, a man found me and took me hunting in the Amazon, finding beasts that time has forgotten and creatures only ever seen on rotting pyramid walls. It was like peeling back my own skin and finding a new version of myself. Have you seen any monsters, Sea Prince?”

My mind flashes to the makara. The merrows. Nieve’s face. “Yes.”

“I mean like beasts. I mean creatures that roam in the shadows of our world while we try to make it so—livable. After the Amazon, he brought me here to run things. Downstairs is filled with the most exquisite beings on this plane and others.”

The taper candles are long and bright; their flickering flames seem to have a sway of their own. Outside is the faint sound of sirens and commotion. Then there’s the echo of laughter coming from somewhere downstairs. “So you’re a beast tamer?”

“I’m a beast master.”

“And you know what that thing that attacked me was?”

“It was a sea dragon.” He smacks his knee and practically shakes with excitement. “I’ve never seen one before, and boy, it was beautiful. You know, a lot of people think the Loch Ness monster is a dinosaur? But it’s not. It’s related to the family of sea dragons. Did you know that sea dragons are the only branch of the dragon family that can’t breathe fire?”

“I had no clue,” I say, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Not many people do. Nasty venom in the saliva. They’re supposed to be extinct. The few that are left are controlled by beings more powerful than you or me. I can tell you one thing. Whoever sent that creature after you is not your friend. It took all of my concentration to get him to let you go.”

Even as he says that, I know who it might be. Someone who wants to rattle me. Someone who’s trying to get under my skin. “I think I have a clue.”

“Would you like to see more of these creatures?”

Kai twitches in her sleep. I know I have to go home and keep pushing. But part of me is curious and I want to see for myself what he’s talking about. “I really have to get going.”

“Tell you what.” He cocks his head to the side. His hair never moves. It’s a perfect swish to the side. “We have a special show, not open to the public. I’ll give you these to take.” He holds his closed fist over the table. There are thin scars all over his hand. I wonder if they are from his father or one of the beasts he claims to be in charge of. He presses two gold coins into my hand. They’re stamped with the Roman numeral II.

“Tokens,” he says, “for the show. You don’t want to miss it.” “Thank you.” I pocket them quickly. “And thank you for the save.”

“Don’t get too sentimental. As cute as you are, I did it for the dragon. A thing like that, goddess knows what would have happened to it if it had been captured.” He dips in a proper bow, then retreats behind the curtain.





Because Kai is still passed out, I do the one thing I’ve been trying to stop myself from doing, and that’s get my parents involved. But I can’t exactly carry a girl with a bloody gash on her arm in the subway, and just holding her makes the pain in my shoulder flare.

So I called my dad, who must’ve broken all the speed limits, because it only took him five minutes to get here. I can smell the crackling nervousness around him, like burning cables.

“Saw it on the news.”

“Was there footage?”

He shakes his head. “Some blurry camera work on cell phones.

It’s gray and foggy. No real eyewitnesses except some kids.” That’s the thing, right? No one believes children. “Mom?” He doesn’t have to answer that one. “It’s amazing the things people will say. The official story they ran on the news was a failed Air Force experiment from the base out on Long Island.” “Yeah, because all jets have scales and teeth.”

“You’d be surprised, son. Sometimes the mind can’t process things, so it creates its own reality.”

I stare at the dashboard.

“Your mother said you were fine.” I can feel him look over at me, then at the traffic. “But I know better. I felt the same way when your aunt was born.”

Now I turn to him.

“The baby is not going to replace you,” he says.

“Dad—”

“Hear me out.” He turns the volume down on the radio. “When your grandfather came for your birth, he said he’d bind your powers or whatever they do. I never truly trusted it. And when you started swimming, loving it the way you do, I was afraid to let you do it. Maybe if one day you went out, you might never come back.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t.” We run our hands through our hair at the same time. “I was right. In the end. It’s like you’re going off to college. Maybe, just maybe, if I think of it that way, it might be better.”

“Is it better?”

“No. But you’re meant for big things. I always said so.” He reaches out and grips my shoulder. “Even without your mermaid tail.”

“Merman.”

“That’s what I said.”

I raise the volume on the radio. The song carries through the thick summer air. The strain in my shoulders loosens just a bit and I lean back into the passenger’s seat.

“What was it, anyway?” Dad asks.

I consider lying, but I’ve never lied to my dad. “Sea dragon.” Then typical Dad, he busts out laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“And here I was wondering what to get you for Christmas.”

•••

I’m ready for my mom to go into hysterics when we come through the door. I’m ready for the news report, but thankfully, the camera crew arrived way too late to get any footage of the beast. There are only fuzzy videos and low-resolution photographs. What I’m not ready for is Kurt and Gwen sitting at Command Central looking pale and green.

Gwen rushes to me and punches me on the shoulder I banged up during the dragon attack, throwing all of her weight into it.

“Gwen!” Kurt shouts.

My face must be blue from holding my breath. “Why are you hitting me?”

“You left us!” She sees Dad carrying sleeping Kai into the living room and takes a second to process the information. “Then we couldn’t find you and saw the wreckage.”

I cradle the aching side of my body until I nearly double over. “I was making a love connection after Violet said she wanted to have Kurt’s babies. With his eyes and her hair they’ll be the biggest purple—oh my god, this hurts—”

Kurt tries to grab me but I recoil from him. My reflexes are slow and his thumb is digging into my shoulder. “It’s dislocated.”

“No. It’s not.” I walk backward around the kitchen table and he follows me. “It’s just a bruise.”

“Let me see you roll it, then.”

I bite on my lip, and my eyes water when I try.

“Come here.”

“No.”

“Trust me.”

“No, no. It’ll just heal on its own. I mean it—” And then he grabs hold of me, and I swear the pop can be heard all over my building.

“Better?”

I squeak out a “Thank you” and lie spread out on the cool tile of the floor. Dad walks over me to get something out of the fridge for my mom. On his way back, he holds out his hand and pulls me up. “What’s with Sleeping Beauty?”

I grab the stool beside Kurt.

“Kai tried to stop me from stabbing the dragon. She was all Oh don’t kill it—it’s going extinct.”

“Hippies,” Dad jokes.

“She’s right.” Mom takes the bag of popcorn Dad is still holding. “I had one once. It wasn’t meant to be mine. Pretty little thing. She had this funny tail, like a rainbow fish—”

“Uh—and lots of venomous spit? If I want an evil pet, I’ll get a cat.”

Mom shoots me her “You be quiet” glare and points to the living room. “Get me an aloe leaf, will you?”

“Fine.” The leaf crunches when I rip it off and leaves a sticky trail.

Mom cuts it down the center. She likes to drink the liquid, which is disgustingly bitter. Growing up, I had so many cuts, rashes, and scrapes that an aloe plant in the house came in handy. I still make an ick sound when she scoops up the jelly and eats it. The second scoop she takes to Kai and rubs on her wound. Dad throws away the bloody paper towels.

“Remind me again, why were you out with this girl today? I just thought—”

“Dad.” I don’t want my love life to be a topic of discussion, ever. But especially not right now. “The princesses are like a resource. My cousin Brendan has a boatload, literally. We picked out the ones who might lead us closer to the next oracle.”

My parents exchange skeptical looks.

“It’s true,” Kurt says.

“It doesn’t matter, because all three of my dates have Bombed. Capital B. One tried to chew my arm off. The next one was using me to get to Kurt. Yeah, I’m talking to you. And Kai got pissed off because I was trying to slay the dragon that was going to eat her. What does it take?” I take the bag of frozen peas my mom hands me and let the cold numb my shoulder. “I used to be good at this.”

“Wow,” Dad says. “You really are a bad date.”

“Thanks. That’s comforting.”

“How did you manage to escape its grasp?” Kurt asks.

“This guy from the freak show. He’s got this cool staff thing and he’s a beast master.” I tell them all about Charlie Comit and his welcome save.

“I don’t like this,” Mom says. For the first time, I smell her fear. It’s real fear, like sand coating my tongue.

“I’m fine, Mom. Look.” I raise my hands in the air but hold my breath at the angry stiffness in my muscles. She’s all pregnant with her shiny new baby, and I have to show her that I can be fine, that I can take care of myself. I go to her because I’ve been the worst son ever and hug her. I whisper, “I’m sorry,” and she rubs my back. She has that face Kurt’s so good at—focused and all business.

“Focus on your next target,” Mom says.

Gwen points at the living room. “Kai is the answer. Her father has the most archives. There has to be something about the location or existence of Eternity in his records.”

“She’s really passed out, Gwen,” I say. “In the meantime, we should figure out a way to disaster-proof this apartment. That sea dragon knew just where to find me.”

“This apartment is still under the king’s protection.” Kurt stands and closes the blinds. “For four more days, anyway. And then the championship will be over.”

“So was Greg’s house,” I say, “and look at what happened.”

Kurt paces around the kitchen counter. “What if Kai—”

“What if Kai what?” Kai says, walking from the living room into the kitchen/Command Central.

“Kai, these are my parents. And you probably know Kurt and Gwen.”

Still with a dazed look, she takes the stool my dad gives up for her. Then she takes in the room, the framed family pictures, the rooster magnet collection on the fridge. She smiles at the maps on the wall. Then she gets to my mom and freezes.

“Lady Maia!” She gets up so fast that she fumbles with the blanket around her shoulders. “I forgot myself.”

Princess Kai takes my mother’s hand and bows. Even though she reminds Kai that she’s not royalty anymore, Mom isn’t exactly shooing her away. Maybe it’s hard to forget everything about being the daughter of the king.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe here.”

I fill Kai in on what happened after she passed out. Assuring her a hundred times that “Yes, the dragon is fine.” Even though I don’t know that for sure. “Remember what we were talking about before the dragon came? About the trident?”

“Yes,” she says, embarrassed. “Forgive me for not being more grateful for saving my life.”

“No sweat.” I give Kai my full attention. It makes her uncomfortable, as if no one ever looks at her. “Do you think you could look at something for me?”

She rests her hand on the bandage around her arm, thumbing the unfamiliarity of it. “What is it?”

I grab the parchment drawings from the kitchen and rest them on her lap. “This is—”

“The Star of the Sea.”

“Come again?” I say.

“It’s the symbol, right here. This star? It’s the symbol of an ancient oracle. She was called the Star of the Sea because she was so beautiful. Her magics made mortals believe she was a goddess. Though there was no way she could be. Her power made her lose her mind, stuck between her sight, the future, past, and present.”

“Crazy oracles,” I say. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

I catch Kurt’s scowl when I say this.

“But Tristan.” Kai goes to get a better look at the maps on the wall. “How did you come by these parchments? They’re not supposed to leave the Hall of Records.”

I tell her about Gregorious. The manic look in his eyes. The way he changed after drinking the water. The way I did, for a little bit. I roll my shoulder and remind myself that I’m clearly no longer impervious.

“He’s dead?” She sits back down, clutching her heart. “He was friends with my father. I remember the last time he came to visit us. They argued and my father sent me away to collect items from a shipwreck for study.”

I can practically feel her mind racing. She gets up and traces a hand over my crappy drawings of the oracles. “You didn’t say you found another oracle. The nautilus maid?”

“Nothing to say. She didn’t have a piece of the trident.” I say it so quickly that I can hear the guilt in my voice. But I agreed to kill her, or die myself.

“I don’t understand,” Kai says. “What makes you think I can help?”

I read the prophecy aloud.

“When known is the last son of kings,

Only the sea will remain.

The sky will shatter

And the king will rip the earth once more.

Beneath, the heart of the sea awakens.

When Death sets fire to Eternity,

The daughter of the sea weeps darkness

In darkness we will remain.”

I study her face as I say it. She’s more wonder-struck than frightened. Then a tiny smile plays on her lips, and I know she’s thinking what I’m thinking. “Can I ask what your theory is?”

Theory? I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t have theories. I have accidental enlightenments.

“Greg was in possession of powerfully healing water.” I pace back and forth in front of my parents, Gwen, Kai, and Kurt. “I drink it and for a little while, I heal like I’m in one of those fast-forward sessions on the Discovery Channel. This makes Shelly suggest I’ve already been to Eternity.

“Now I know it has to be a place because her sister Chrysilla, the nautilus maid, said that’s where she belongs. But oh no, my mom and Sir Doubts-alot over here think I’m wrong because it doesn’t fit in their old mer-textbooks.” Then I add, “Sorry, Mom.”

At once, they start talking over each other.

Mom’s all, “It’s not that I doubt you—”

Kurt’s all, “I decided to go forth with your plan, did I not? It was my idea to search for Violet—”

Kai’s all, “Really, you went to Violet first?”

Gwen’s all, “Just because Tristan figured something out, finally, I believe Kurtomathetis to be jealous.”

I lean back. “Me too.”

Dad, the only sane person among us, holds his hand up. “I have to say, as the only original human biped here, I’m completely shocked at how incredibly close-minded you all sound.”

They start to argue again, but I take out my scepter. It glows in my hand, and a thin whistle settles over the room, like it’s the sound of the light inside the scepter. It’s enough to make them quiet and listen to my dad.

“You’re merpeople,” he says. “By all laws of nature, you don’t exist in this reality. Yet here you are, fighting for your futures.”

“My dad’s right. Kai, is there a physical place called Eternity?”

The shift in Kai’s posture is drastic. When she’s around the princesses, she’s like a crab digging herself back into the sand. Now, she’s beautiful and confident.

“Yes,” she says. I cross my arms attentively, but it’s to fight the urge to wag my finger in front of Kurt’s face. “In fact, all the protective charms that come from the king have been bathed in water from the Springs of Aurora, or Eternity.”

“My grandfather gave Layla a necklace. She was poisoned by merrows and it saved her.”

“But the necklace was the symbol of the king’s family,” Kurt says. “Spirula spirula. That’s what grants protection.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Kai counters. “It’s a symbol, Kurtomathetis. Which, as there is no king, no longer matters.”

Kurt gets huffy. “We’ve always been told it is the protection of the king.”

Kai leans forward, a deep red blush creeping over her face. “What you haven’t been told is what it was blessed with.”

“Why would it be kept from us?” he shouts.

“Tristan, where is your dagger?” Kai turns around to me like a whip.

“I don’t think violence—”

“Get it, please!” And the pleading look in her eyes reminds me that she’s trying to prove a point. So I unsheathe Triton’s dagger. She takes a marker and draws the Spirula coil on a piece of paper. She gives it to Kurt to hold.

“There. Tristan, stab him.”

“What?” Kurt takes a step back.

“Go ahead,” Gwen says. “Take a stab at Kurtomathetis.”

Kurt’s mouth is hanging open, maybe partly because he’s wondering if I actually would. “Very well, Lady Kai. You’ve proved your point.”

Kai smiles victoriously. “This is a symbol. The king is power. And his symbol has power, but it needs something else. Water from the Springs of Aurora.”

Kurt raises his hands. “Don’t stab me, but if this place is real, wouldn’t we all be drinking from it, Lady Kai?”

“Don’t forget,” Gwen says. “We were immortal once.” “So the Springs of Aurora and Eternity are the same place?” I ask.

Kai’s smile is wicked but brilliant, as if she knows all the secrets we aren’t privy to. “One and the same. It was said that the water from the springs was the source of our immortality. It was the original home of the Sea People. Its waters have the most regenerative properties on Earth.”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, we were immortal because Poseidon made it so. Then he took the gift away and left us in the human world with nothing but the ability to age slowly and live for hundreds of years.”

“That’s one of many theories of where we come from,” my mom says.

I raise my hand like I’m in class. “I thought we came from Triton and those Greek dudes.”

Kai nods thoughtfully. “Yes and no.”

“What do you mean no?” Kurt’s hands are flailing in the air. “Our origin is irrefutable.”

Now it’s Kai’s turn to laugh. “You may be the king’s most prized warrior, but I’ve got half the Hall of Records memorized. Our kind wasn’t born to age this way at first. We had a short lifespan, like humans. Then Triton wanted immortality. The gods denied him, but he was Poseidon’s favorite child. Cutting open his wrists, Poseidon bled and from his blood formed the Springs of Aurora for Triton and his kind to live in.”

“Gross,” I say.

Kurt makes to speak again, but Kai cuts him off and keeps talking. “The Sea People lived there, deep, deep down in the earth, away from the rest of the world. Until we got a visitor. One of the winged fey. He had magics we didn’t. After all, we were only half fish. And so with his queen and our king, we agreed to trade. Magic for eternal life. Years went by and soon the fey wanted more and more. They bred quickly and in multitudes, unlike us. When the king put a stop to them coming to the springs, we went to war. It devastated our numbers, but we pushed them out and barred the entrance. Only the King of the Sea can unseal it.”

“That’s a great story, Lady Kai,” Kurt says stubbornly.

I laugh. “Will you two listen to yourselves? Let’s say Kai is right. That still doesn’t mean you’re wrong, Kurt. We’re still Sea People with massive life spans.”

And then I want to throw up. The realization creeps up like bile in my throat. “Since the king’s powers are weakening—”

“Then the seal is broken,” Kurt catches on. “Open for anyone.”

“In my dreams, Nieve is weak and fragile,” I say. “Imagine how strong she’ll be if she drinks from the springs. If anyone can bring death to Eternity, Nieve can.” I repeat the line of the prophecy, “And the daughter of the sea weeps darkness. That’s Nieve right there.”

“That could explain where Gregorious got the water,” Mom says. “You said he knew of the championship before it happened. He could’ve realized what it would do to the seas and seized the opportunity to restore himself.”

“But how would Nieve find out about Greg?” I stand in front of the kitchen window. Between the twinkling buildings, there is a patch of darkness where, for the first time this summer, Coney Island is completely turned off.

“I’m sure the sea witch would find a way,” Kurt says. “Though I wonder—only the guard has access to combat fire.”

“Kai,” Gwen presses. “Is there a map to the Springs of Aurora?”

I snap my fingers, trying to pull a memory from my exhausted mess of thoughts. “Oh. Oh. I’m having a thought.”

“Speaking of myths,” Kurt mumbles.

“Shut up. I have thoughts.” I shove him and he shoves me back. Gwen stands between us, and I turn around and walk to the other end of the table. “There was a map of a tree. It had stars and a river. It was in Greg’s giant stack of mermaid porn.”

“My father could be in danger, Tristan.” Kai rubs the chill off her arms. “If Greg was a target, any of the elders could be next. My father’s collection is extensive. I think we should go to the Hall of Records. It’s ten leagues south of this shore.”

I take Kai by her shoulders. “Does he have a map?”

She clenches her hand over her heart and nods. “We have to go now.”

I point to Kurt. “I need you to stay here.”

“You need me,” Kurt says.

“Someone has to stay here and make sure everyone is safe.” Then I add, “I trust you.”

“Take Gwenivere, at least,” Kurt says painfully.

Gwen is almost as startled as I am. She reaches out a hand and strokes his bicep. “I knew we’d start getting along sooner or later.”

Kurt shakes his head, fighting a smile. “That has nothing to do with it. Just get Tristan there and back.”

I load up my weapons and Kai takes one of Thalia’s swords. Kurt grips my forearm and squeezes. “May the seas bend to your journey.”





Kai and Gwen slink into the baby waves.

I turn around once to look at the dark boardwalk, the yellow tape around the closed park, and I promise myself I’m going to make this right.

The slits of my scales itch when water hits them. I pull tight on the straps of my backpack and the holster around my hip. When the water is up to my waist, I dive.

The water is dark, hard to see through. Sand gets kicked up. My neck tickles where the cold water rushes in and out. My breathing feels tight as my lungs expand in anticipation of my shift. The numbness starts at my hips and races down to my ankles. If I had toes right now, I’d be wiggling them. Ahead of me, the girls have already shifted and I follow the gleam of their sparkling tails.

For miles, there is nothing. No fish, no stones, no boulders. No shadows of ships drifting above us. For miles, it’s just swimming.

Kai leads the way. Her scales are a powdery green. The tips of her tail look like bursts of chiffon trailing along. Everything about her is grand and slender. Like watching a flower dance underwater.

Gwen, on the other hand, is a strong and fast swimmer. Her scales are white with splotches of black. Her hair is like a white cloud melting into water. Where Kai is delicate, graceful, Gwen swims with a confidence I recognize in myself. She even sings a wordless melody that fills the whole sea.

Kai stops and swims circles around us. She points to a dull, rippling current that cuts through the ocean like a pipe. She dives in, and the next moment, she’s zooming away. The suction pulls me down, so fast I have to shut my eyes. My mouth pulls back, and I have to spit out tiny fish that are getting stuck in my teeth. I lose count of the minutes, enjoying the numbness of the current until Kai yells “Here!” and makes a sharp right out of the current.

Unlike the pair of them, my exit isn’t graceful. It’s like trying to stand up on the anti-gravity ride at Luna Park. When I do, I hit a boulder and hold on to my head to stop it from shaking.

Kai points to where the ground widens beneath us. Branches claw out of cracks in boulders the size of trucks. My eyes adjust to the darkness. I graze the hilt of my dagger for reassurance. It’s a really sharp security blanket.

When we swim into an underpass, I shiver down to my fins. Here the stones are blue, iridescent where they’ve been chipped away, revealing the gem underneath. Fish the size of footballs gather around us in neon colors. Their teeth are sharp, their faces like arrows leading the way.

Along the walls are etchings depicting different scenes like a time line: the circle of the earth, the separation of the heavens and seas and volcanoes. The three separate pieces of the trident, wars, and the trident whole again. Then there are things I don’t recognize: beasts cut out of whole animal parts and symbols I have no name for. Clouds, stars, and moon phases.

The current draws us deeper into the tunnel until we reach an opening. We swim up again toward the clear light near the surface. When I’m above ground, it takes a second to readjust. The cave is massive, lit with torches.

“Where are we?” I trace the cool, blue stone.

Kai is in a half shift. The scales stop at the top of her thigh and wash away everywhere else. Her feet smack wet on the ground. “The entrance to the Hall of Records.”

I grab one of the torches on the wall and bring it with us.

“Father?” Kai calls out.

At first it’s enthusiastic, like she’s just waiting for him to come out of the dark room and hug her.

We inch deeper into the hall. The room is lined with books, shelves made by cutting away at stone walls. There are papers all over a long rock slab of a table, ripped and crumbled. Pots of incense, candles, powders, and roots are smashed to bits.

“Father?” Kai repeats.

I stick my hand out to stop Gwen from taking another step into the den. “Be careful, there’s glass.”

“What a mess,” she says.

I pick up a bit of parchment, singed at the edges and soaked at the center, ink running down the pages. When I try to lift it, it becomes dust in my hands.

I reach out to grab Kai’s hand but she’s so quick, running over the glass and into an opening to the right. We follow her into a darkly lit room. At first I don’t know what I’m looking at. Then Kai’s scream fills every nook and cranny of the cave. Atop a gleaming onyx table is an old man with armored scales along his arms and legs. There’s a knife stuck in his chest, just below his heart. His fingers rest around it, keeping the pressure. His breath is a shallow rise and fall. Eyes, the same crystal blue of his daughter, peel open. When he blinks a few times, the color drains. It’s like I’m underwater again, numb and wading at the bottom of the sea wearing ankle weights.

In the darkness, his eyes find mine. The sound from his throat is a gargle. His hand, soft and brittle, reaches out to mine. “B—”

“Shhh,” Kai whispers. Her chest is filled with ragged breath, hitched and frantic. She grabs on to his robes. “Don’t talk, don’t talk.”

She turns around, looking at the jars along the walls. She pops open all the corks and sniffs. Not finding the thing she’s looking for, she sweeps her arms across all of them, sending them shattering on the floor. Her hands are bloody and glittering with glass shards.

I reach out to her, but she pulls away and stands over her father. He releases the hand from his chest and reaches out to her face. Then he takes my hand in a bone-crushing grip. The blue of his eyes returns. His breath is a gust rattling inside: “Don’t let it burn.”

His mouth opens wide, releasing his last breath. The hold on my hand goes slack, and my heart seizes.

I’ve never seen a merman die this way. He’s looking at her. Convulsing. Shaking. Shivering. His skin melts away, leaving behind the powdery whiteness of coral and bone.