Just for Fins (15 page)

Chapter 17

D
oe and I make fast time for home after sending Aurita to the Thalassinian royal palace with half of our guards and a note for Daddy, telling him what has happened and asking him to house and protect the now-outcast princess. The sun is just starting to rise in the east.

As we swim up to Seaview Beach Park, I'm stunned to see a school of royal guards entering the water. I exchange a look with Doe, and she shrugs, just as confused as I am.

“What's going on?” I ask, floating over to the nearest guard. “Are you looking for me?”

The guard jumps a little at my approach, startled. Then, recovering himself, he says, “No, Princess. We were sent to fetch Master Quince back for his second test.”

“What?”

I swim past the guard and, with a powerful kick, launch myself out of the water. I land on the sand, fin changed into a finkini bottom, and scan the area for Quince. He's in the corner of the parking lot, stripping off his shirt and storing it in his motorcycle.

“What's going on?” I ask, running over to him.

“Princess.” He grins, and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners wakes up butterflies in my stomach. “I was wondering if you would make it back in time.”

Forcing the butterflies to calm down, I ask, “You got another messenger gull?”

Quince nods. “Right in the middle of breakfast. Freaked the heck out of my mom.” He lowers his gaze. “You know, someday we're going to have to tell her the truth about you.”

“I know. Someday. What did the message say?” I probe. “What is your second test?”

“No clue.” He shuts the storage compartment on his bike, and we start walking down the beach. “Just said to come to the palace for the second test.” He reaches into a cargo pocket and pulls out the kelpaper. I read, hoping for another clue, but it says no more than that.

“At least I don't have to swim there on my own this time,” he says. “Your boys in blue are giving me a ride.”

“Forget that,” I say. “
I'm
giving you a ride.”

“Ditching me already?” Doe asks, but I can't tell if she's teasing. “And just when we were starting to get along.”

“I have to go with him, Doe,” I say. She should understand; I know she'd do the same for Brody. “I can't let him—”

“Joking, cousin,” she says, dismissing my explanations. “Give me your keys so I can get home.”

“My keys?” I balk. I've only had my car for a couple of weeks. I've only barely learned how to drive it. Does she really think I'm going to let her take it for a spin?

“Relax,” she says, holding out her hand. “Brody's been giving me lessons.”

“But it's a standard,” I argue. “It's really tricky to manage the clutch and the brake and—”

“Brody's Camaro is a standard,” she replies. “Trust me, I've got this.”

I take a few deep breaths and stare her down, daring her to tell me she's joking again. She doesn't. Palm up, she waits for me to give over the keys to my car.

“You're
sure
you know how to drive?”

Doe cocks her head to the side, as if she's not even going to dignify that with a response.

“Okay,” I say, reluctantly dropping my keys into her outstretched palm. “But if you hit anything—”

She saunters away before I can finish my warning. I watch, eagle-eyed, as she unlocks the door, slides into the driver's seat, and brings the car to life. Seconds later, she's pulling out of the parking lot. Flawlessly.

Seriously, not a jerk or a screech or a stutter. Smooth, as if she's been driving all her life.

“She doesn't even have a license,” I whine as my taillights disappear down the street.

“I'm sure she'll be fine,” Quince says, patting me on the back.

“How does she do that?” I demand, turning on him. “She's been on land, what? Just over a month? I've been here almost four years, and she's got the human thing down like it's nothing.”

“Master Quince,” the lead guard says before my tirade can continue, “we really should get going.”

“Yeah,” I say, disgusted at Doe—and myself. “Let's go.”

Once I'm back in the water, with Quince's arms wrapped tight around my waist for the swim home, my frustration ebbs. I should be happy for Doe, proud of her for fitting in so well. Especially since she plans to spend a lot of time on land with Brody in the future.

“Feel better, princess?” Quince asks as we reach the deep ocean.

I sigh. “Yes.”

“You know you're good at things that make her jealous, right?”

“Like what?” I huff.

“Like making people smile.” He squeezes me tighter. “You're brilliant at that.”

I want to grumble—like making people
smile
is a tangible skill—but instead I grin. That's better than nothing, I suppose. And I've got bigger things to think about right now. Quince's second test, for one, and the news about the sabotage conspiracy.

We'll take care of Quince's test first. Then I can talk to Daddy about what I learned in Desfleurelle.

 

Quince and I swim through the palace gate, expecting the guards to lead us to the main entrance. Instead, they take us around the outside of the palace. As we round the first tower, I see Daddy, Calliope, and a few other merfolk waiting.

They are standing at the edge of a part of the royal gardens called the Night Garden.

It's one of the most breathtaking underwater gardens in Thalassinia. Because it's made up entirely of plants and animals with bioluminescent glow, on nights when there's a new moon, with no lunar light filtering down through the water, the Night Garden shines bright as the sun.

I remember watching a video about fireflies in biology. There was a part—when the narrator wasn't talking about larval form and chemical reaction—where it showed time-lapse photography of a forest when firefly glowing was at its maximum. At one point, it was like the entire forest was awash in light.

That's what the Night Garden is like.

Even in the filtered late-morning sun it's spectacular.

“Hello, Princess,” Calliope calls out to me as we approach. “Quince.”

I wave at her and Quince says hello.

“Lily, I am glad you are here,” Daddy says when he sees me. “I want to hear about your meeting after Quince finishes his test.”

I nod. “Definitely.”

“But for now,” he says, “you need to stay on the sidelines with us.”

“Remember,” Calliope adds, “you cannot help Quince in any way.”

“I understand,” I reply.

“So do I,” Quince says, letting go of my waist so he can swim around to my side. “I'm ready.”

“You might remember I said your second test would focus on mental strength,” Calliope says, leading Quince to the Night Garden path. “Well, it specifically focuses on memory.”

“It will test your ability to remember sequences,” Daddy explains.

“This path,” Calliope says, pointing at the strip of dark gravel that weaves through the garden, “follows a circular route. Along this route are several creatures trained to glow in a chain reaction, each time adding another glow to the chain.”

“In short, son,” Daddy says, “you will need to watch them light up, remembering the order, and then re-create the chain by touching each creature in the same order.”

“Oh, okay,” Quince says, smiling and nodding. “We had a game like this growing up. If you pushed the lighted buttons in the wrong order, it blasted you with an alarm.”

“With this test,” Calliope says, “if you get the order wrong, you fail.”

Some of the humor fades from Quince's face.

“How many chains does he have to remember?” I ask. “How many sequences?”

“The chain will begin with only one,” Daddy says. “And will gradually build to sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” I gasp.

Quince makes a choking sound.

“Why so many?” I ask. “Isn't that kind of . . . excessive?”

“The number sixteen was chosen for a very specific reason,” Calliope says.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “To make it impossible.”

“Ten for the number of kingdoms in the Western Atlantic,” she says, pointedly ignoring my comment. “Five for the number of original mer kingdoms. And one more for Capheira, the sea nymph who granted us our powers.”

“Sixteen,” I grumble.

“Don't worry, princess,” Quince says. “I can do this. I
will
do this.”

“Come,” Daddy says as Quince swims into the garden, “we can watch together from above.”

Daddy and I float up to a place where we can see the entire garden path. I'll be able to see every glow and watch every choice Quince makes. Calliope takes her position next to us, clipboard in hand and ready to judge Quince's performance.

She reaches out and pats my hair. “He'll do fine.”

I smile at her. “I hope so.”

I cross my fins and fingers that he succeeds.

The first few rounds go quickly. The first chain is simply a glowing anemone at the garden entrance. Quince touches the anemone, making it glow again, and then the second chain starts. First the same anemone again, and then a sea star on the other side of the circular path. When he touches those two in order, they glow again, followed by a bed of red-glowing seaweed back by the entrance.

This goes on and on. Quince easily remembers one, then two, then five glows in sequence. And the fact that each chain only builds on the last makes things easier.

When it gets up to eight, he starts to slow down. I can see his forehead scrunching as he tries to remember the last couple of links in the chain.

By twelve, he's starting to look mentally exhausted. And physically, too, since each chain requires him to swim around the garden path more and more.

At fifteen, he's barely floating from glow to glow. He's been doing this for hours now. It takes him a solid three minutes—I know, because I started counting seconds—to remember the last link.

But he finally does, and I cheer.

“Good job!” I shout. “One more to go!”

He looks up and gives me a weary smile. Then he turns his attention back to the garden as the final chain starts glowing.

I follow the pattern with my eyes, anticipating the first several I have memorized, and then catching up with the glow of the rest. When the fifteenth glows, I scan the garden eagerly for the sixteenth and final glow in the final chain.

I wait and wait and wait and . . . nothing.

“Did I miss it?” I whisper to Daddy. “Where was the last glow?”

He holds a finger to his mouth in response.

I look at Quince, hoping he saw what I didn't, but he looks just as lost.

After studying the garden, waiting for a glow, he finally starts the last chain. I watch, nervous, as he touches the fifteen glows in order. Then, after the fifteenth, I hold my breath.

Where was the sixteenth glow? I didn't see it, and I have a clear view of the entire garden. How could Quince have seen it from down on garden level?

“There was no glow,” I say to Daddy, who ignores me. “This isn't fair!” I shout down at the garden, getting Quince's attention. “The sixteenth object never—”

I gasp as Quince pushes off from the seafloor, jetting straight toward me.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I demand. “You can't just give up, you have to—”

Quince reaches me, and instead of wrapping me in a hug like I expect, he reaches for my hair. I try to swim back, away from the near-desperate look in his eyes, afraid that he's going to fail the test.

He tugs something from my hair.

I look down and see a
Padina antillarum
—a beautiful little seaweed shaped like ginkgo leaves—in his hand. And it's glowing.