Just for Fins (2 page)

Chapter 2

T
he bath is steaming hot as I step into the tub. I sink down and stretch my legs out in front of me, sighing as my body absorbs the calming effects of the water. My hair is carefully pinned up, out of the way, so the squid ink doesn't contaminate the entire tub and wind up turning my skin blue.

Closing my eyes for a second, I focus on my transfiguration as human flesh magically shifts to mermaid scales.

“Ahhhh.” I smile. This is exactly what I need—a brief break from the world to relax my thoughts.

That might require a longer bath than I have time for.

Since I got back to Seaview yesterday morning, I've been thinking nonstop about the problems in Acropora. From what Tellin says, things are really bad there. His people are starving, their environment is dying, and they are leaving the kingdom in droves to seek better chances either on land or in neighboring kingdoms. Daddy confirms that Thalassinia has seen a surge in immigration; he just didn't know the reason.

Now we know why.

I shake my head and sink a little lower in the water.

How could this have been happening to the kingdom next door without us having any idea? It's sad and a little scary.

That's why I'm so eager to call the council meeting and get the other rulers involved. Everyone in the Western Atlantic should know what's happening to their kin. That Tellin's dad, King Gadus, has kept this a secret for so long has only made things worse. He let his pride hurt his people, and that's something a ruler should never do.

“But,” I say to myself, “things will get better after the council meeting.”

Tellin and I will make our plea as a united front, and the other kingdoms will step up to help. It's the mer-world way.

Eyes closed, I relax against the wall of the tub. I need a little more time in the water. I'll get out in a minute. Then I'll finish up the invitations and send them off by messenger gull to royal palaces across the Western Atlantic. After that, it's just a matter of figuring out what to say and waiting for the offers of help.

Meow!

My heart lurches, and I sit bolt upright in the tub. Water sloshes over the edges and onto the white tile floor.

Meow meow meow!

“Prithi,” I growl at the door, where Aunt Rachel's cat is scratching to get into the bathroom. “Go stalk Doe.”

She lets out a plaintive meow and then goes silent. I twist around in the tub and see the shadow of her paws under the door.

“Fine,” I mutter. “Time to get back to work anyway.”

Quickly transfiguring back into my legs, I lean forward and pull the plug from the drain. As the lime-scented water swirls away, I maneuver up onto my knees and turn on the faucet. I unclip my hair, lean to the side, and stick my head under the running water.

From the corner of my eye, I see dark blue running down the side of the tub. I squeeze some coconut shampoo into my hand and scrub it into my hair. Blue foam bubbles up around the drain. I keep lathering and rinsing until the foam and the water streaming from my hair have no traces of blue.

I shut off the water and quickly wrap my head in a soft, fluffy towel.

Climbing out of the tub, I grab another towel to dry off my body. I kneel down and mop up the water from the floor before tossing the soggy towel into the hamper.

Standing in front of the mirror, I pull the towel off my head and expect to see my normal blond rat's nest. Instead, I see a blond rat's nest with a giant splotch of blue on one side.

“No,” I gasp.

Apparently squid ink is both water-
and
shampoo-proof. I grab the towel and scrub desperately at the discolored hair. When I pull the terry cloth away and find no traces of blue, I know I'm in trouble. It's not rubbing off. My hair is well and truly dyed.

And not in a cool way. If it was just the tips or even one long streak, that would be fine. But it's a big blob. Most of the bottom half of my hair on the left side of my head. Just . . . blue.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

There are three options. I can cut off the blue and the rest of my hair to match, leaving me with a bob-length style. I immediately dismiss that. One disastrous experiment with short hair my sophomore year that left me looking like a fuzzy blond Q-tip taught me that lesson.

I could dye the rest of my hair to match. That would even things out, but I'm not cool enough to pull off blue hair. I'm barely cool enough to pull off normal hair.

Or I could just leave it like it is and hope it eventually fades away.

I don't like any of the options. But as I stare at the wet curls of blue and blond in the mirror, I know I don't have much choice. I will just have to live with it for a while.

Meow.

“Okay, okay,” I say to the impatient cat. “I'm coming.”

I get dressed and, after briefly considering—and then dismissing—the idea of fashioning the towel into a blue-hair-disguising hat, open the door. Prithi stares up at me. She blinks several times before turning and running down the hall, into Doe's room.

“That bad, huh?” I call after her.

When I walk back downstairs, I brace myself for a tsunami of comments about my blue hair. Doe's will be the worst, I'm sure. I step into the kitchen and find it empty. The table is clear, not even a trace of squid ink on the painted surface. Wish I could say the same about my hair.

Guess this explains why Prithi abandoned her Doe worship for a while.

I spin around, looking for signs of what happened, or maybe a note. I find one stuck to the refrigerator.

 

The invitations are done and the messenger gulls are on their ways. Went to get ice cream. Back soon.

xoxo

Rachel

 

What? They finished everything?
And
they sent off the invitations via messenger gulls to the various kingdoms?

Clearly I was in the bath longer than I thought.

My heart does a little double thump. I trust my friends and family to do a good job, but . . . but I didn't even get to see a finished invitation. What if Doe worded something wrong? Or had the wrong time or location or misspelled Queen Dumontia's name? Sure, she corrected me on a couple of mistakes earlier, but she's not perfect.

I yank the note off the fridge, and a sheet of pale-blue kelpaper that had been held up behind it falls to the floor.

It's an invitation. Stuck in the middle is a bright pink sticky note.

 

Not that you need to, but you probably want to check my work.

 

Doe. I'm part annoyed by her arrogance and part relieved to see a finished invitation. I skim my eyes over the very official-sounding words.

 

Your attendance is requested at a council of mer kings and queens to be held in the royal kingdom of Thalassinia this Sunday at five o'clock Western Mer Time. Please send your reply to Mangrove at the royal palace with your intentions by Saturday evening.

Crown Princess Waterlily

of Thalassinia

 

My eyes tear up as I get to the end. Everything is perfect, exactly how it should be and exactly how I was
not
making it on my own. With so much riding on this meeting, I'm beyond relieved to know the invitations are checked off the list.

Behind me, the kitchen door swings open.

“It sounds like parts are going to rattle off,” Dosinia says.

“Runs just fine, dear,” Aunt Rachel says. “Gets me where I need to go, and that's all I ask.”

Brody tugs at his ear. “I'd ask to keep my hearing.”

“I could take a look under the hood,” Quince offers. “Could be just a matter of a loose gasket.”

“No, really,” Aunt Rachel says, “it's—”

She doesn't have the chance to finish before I rush the group and grab them all into a big hug.

“Ooof,” Aunt Rachel grunts.

Quince catches everyone from the other side. “Whoa, princess.”

“You guys,” I say, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, “are amazing.”

I plant loud kisses on Doe, Shannen, and Aunt Rachel's cheeks. I would feel weird kissing Brody, even on the cheek, and I can't quite reach Quince, but I give him a look that says he'll be getting an even better kiss later. Doe twists out of the hug, and I reluctantly release everyone.

“It was mostly Dosinia,” Shannen says, carrying the bag from the ice cream shop over to the counter, where Aunt Rachel is getting out spoons and bowls. “She told us what to do.”

I turn to find Doe casually rearranging the front of the refrigerator, Prithi rubbing around her ankles as she aligns the menus and business cards and fortune-cookie fortunes that Aunt Rachel and I have accumulated over the years. I walk over to her, grab the magnet that had been holding the note and invitation in place, and put the sample invitation back where it was.

“Thank you,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight, whether she wants the hug or not.

Doe shrugs, like it was no big deal.

Well, to me it is. This is my first act as crown princess, my first official royal duty, and it would have been a struggle to do it without her help.

“Come on,” I say, tugging her away from the fridge, “let's have ice cream.”

“Um,” she says as I pull her after me, “is your hair still blue?”

I freeze on my way to the kitchen table. All eyes in the room are on me, I can feel it. This is exactly the sort of thing Doe likes to pounce on, throwing the sharpest barbs when I'm at my weakest. I brace myself for her biting comment.

“I'll fix it for you after ice cream.”

The air whooshes out of my lungs. I can't have heard her right. Spinning slowly to face her, I'm sure my jaw is hanging open like an anglerfish just waiting for its unsuspecting prey to swim inside.

“Do you have a fever?” I ask. This is twice in one night she's
volunteered
to help someone. And with no real benefit for her. She must be sick.

“What?” she throws back, sauntering past me to take a seat at the table. “I probably can't get the blue out, but I'm sure I can make it look—” She looks up at me, makes a kind of swirly gesture, and winces. “Better.”

As Aunt Rachel and Shannen set the bowls of ice cream out on the table, I throw a stunned look at Quince. He gives me a kind of I-don't-know-maybe-she's-changed look in response. He's always believed in her, and maybe he's right. Maybe I need to give her the benefit of the doubt more often.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the seat next to her. “I'd appreciate anything you can do.”

She ignores me and slips a giant spoonful of strawberry ice cream into her mouth. She'd never admit it, but I think there's the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks.

Quince catches my eye and winks. He saw it too.

Today my cousin is being generous, and hopefully this weekend the rulers of the mer world will be the same.

I pull my big bowl of green-tea ice cream closer and dig in. The spoon is halfway to my mouth when the reality of the situation hits me. I've called a council of kings and queens. I've made a request of the rulers of the mer kingdoms of the Western Atlantic, asking them to come to my kingdom so I can make
another
request of them.

I force the bite of ice cream into my suddenly dry mouth. If I couldn't even handle sending out invitations on my own, how on earth am I going to face a roomful of kings and queens without messing up?

I swallow the melting treat without really tasting it. I just hope that between now and Sunday, I can find the words to help me do what needs to be done. Tellin and his kingdom are counting on me, and I don't want to let them down.

Chapter 3

“I
can do this.”

Staring out over the sands and surf of Seaview Beach Park, I feel like my heart is exploding in my chest. My legs shake as I step out of my flip-flops. But physical reaction aside, I actually feel pretty confident. It's the fear of public speaking—in front of a very powerful and influential public—that has me kind of freaking out.

Quince wraps a strong arm around my shoulders, steadying me. “Of course you can,” he says, with so much certainty that my body relaxes a little.

I close my eyes, letting the gritty squish of wet sand massage the soles of my feet. Just a few more minutes and I'll be ready.

“You're sure you don't want me to come with you?” Doe asks.

I open my eyes to look at her. She is glued so tightly to Brody's side, I can't see a sliver of the morning sun between them. Sure, she's volunteering—again—but I can't imagine she'd be too happy if I took her up on the offer.

“No,” I say. “I'll be fine.”

“Because I can, you know,” she insists, pulling away from Brody a fraction of an inch. “Uncle Whelk lifted my exile.”

Brody tugs her back to his side.

“I know.” I give her a grateful smile. “Really, I'll be fine.”

“Here,” Shannen says, stepping closer. “Take these.”

She holds out a stack of laminated index cards. I take them from her and quickly flip through them. They say things like “ocean warming,” “request for aid,” and “state of emergency.” One even says “Take a deep breath.”

“What are they?”

“Talking points,” she says. “I always make these for my debates, to help me get back on track if I get lost. Not that I think you're going to get lost, but just in case.”

I pull her into a hug.

“Thank you,” I say. “Knowing I have these will help me relax, for sure.”

I slip the cards into the hidden pocket in my tank top, where they will be secure for my journey home. Shannen must have spent a lot of time working on these. Her years on the debate team are definitely paying off for me.

“Besides,” Brody says, trying to be helpful, “you'll have Tellin at your side. If you get stuck, he can help out.”

The mention earns Brody a fuming look from Quince, and that makes me smile. I reach for his hand and weave my fingers through his. He knows I'm not interested in Tellin, not in that way, but since I only bonded with the handsome mer prince a few days ago, it's still a new situation.

A lot has changed in those few days. Right up until the moment I was about to sign away my future as Thalassinia's queen, I thought I had my life figured out. Then, in that instant, I knew I couldn't do it. Couldn't abandon my duty, couldn't abandon my people or the people of Tellin's dying kingdom.

So, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, I kissed Tellin, bonding with him—in name only—and securing my place in the royal succession. I became crown princess, and everything changed.

Suddenly I had more duties and responsibilities than ever before. And I had something even more important: power. Not just magical power—although I got some of that too—but the power to make a difference. And my first official act as crown princess was to call a council of kings and queens of the Western Atlantic region.

At this very moment, rulers of every mer kingdom, from the edge of the Arctic to the northern coast of South America, are descending on Thalassinia for the council.

They are descending on Thalassinia . . . to listen to me.

I press a hand over my stomach.

Quince leans close. “You'll be brilliant,” he whispers, and I force myself to focus on his words rather than the heat of his breath. “You are strong and smart, and most important”—he presses a quick kiss against my ear—“you care.”

I nod, letting his confidence in me feed my own confidence. He's right, I do care. When I learned that Acropora—the kingdom of my childhood best friend and Thalassinia's neighbor to the south—was suffering great losses because of ocean warming, I realized that the environmental concerns affecting the planet as a whole were already causing major changes in the mer world. It's part of why I bonded with Tellin, to make sure I had the power and authority to help make a difference.

It's why I've called this council of kings and queens. To make the rest of the world aware of the problem and to secure help for Acropora. Together, the kingdoms of the mer world can make a difference.

That, more than anything else, calms my nerves. This has to be done, and if it takes making a presentation before some of the most powerful merfolk in the seven seas, then I have to suck it up and do it.

“Thanks,” I whisper back to Quince. I give him a gentle squeeze to let him know he helped and then pull back. “It's probably time for me to—”

“Whoa,” Shannen says, her voice an awed whisper.

She points out over the shore, to the pair of royal guards stepping up out of the surf. They are imposing—broad shouldered and big muscled. No shark in its right mind would take them on.

Doe whistles. “Being a princess comes with perks.”

“Hey,” Brody complains, and Doe makes a kissy face at him.

I scowl. Why did Daddy send guards?

As they emerge from the surf, the gleaming pearl buttons on their royal uniforms sparkle in the midday sun. I've had an escort of royal guards a few times, when I stayed in Thalassinia too late to go home on my own, or when I needed to leave before dawn to get back before school. But this is the first time I've had a royal escort in daylight hours.

“Double whoa,” Shannen exclaims.

I follow the direction of her open-jawed stare and see another pair of guards stepping out of the sea. And another. And finally another. Eight guards in total, spines rigid and shoulders squared, stand in a line at the edge of the surf.

The only thing that ruins their intimidating military look is their legs. Below their wet-but-perfect uniform jackets, each guard sports a finkini—skin-hugging shorts made of scales the color of his tailfin.

But I'm too shocked to even giggle at their mismatched appearances. Eight guards? Since when have I ever needed more than a pair of royal guards to escort me, and then only when I'd be swimming after dark?

Echoing my thoughts, Quince asks, “Why are they here?”

“I don't know.” I shake my head. “I had no idea they were coming.”

The head guard steps forward. “Crown Princess Waterlily,” he says as he drops to one knee and bows his head. “I am Captain Frater of the Thalassinian Royal Guard Protection School Two. We have come to escort you home.”

“Please stand,” I say, urging him back to his feet quickly, before anyone notices. “I wasn't expecting an escort of guards. Is there a special reason why you're here?”

And why there are so many of you?

Frater grins and then quickly regains his stern composure. “You are crown princess now. Extra precautions must be taken, according to the royal charter.”

“Oh.”

I knew becoming crown princess would mean changes—beyond actually getting my crown, of course—but I hadn't expected this. Then again, I never had anything to prepare me. I have no older siblings to watch go through the process—I have no siblings, period. And it's not like I've been spending much time in other kingdoms to see how their princes and princesses make the transition to the more elevated position. I'm adrift in this situation.

“Give me a minute,” I tell Frater. “You may, um, wait in the water.”

“Yes, Crown Princess.” He salutes and, once I return the gesture, turns and leads his school back into the surf.

“I can do this,” I say, turning back to my friends.

“Nobody could do it better,” Quince says with an assured nod.

Shannen steps close and lays her hands on my shoulders. She's not usually the most nurturing type—she'd rather act as drill sergeant, keeping me on track with my studying or my homework or my (now former) crush on Brody—so I brace myself for an order or lecture of some kind.

Instead she says, “I believe in you.”

I nod and then, before she can back away, I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug. Shannen is nothing if not brutally honest. If she says she believes in me, then she really does. She's not just saying it.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She pulls away. and I give her a grateful smile.

That is just the little boost in confidence I need to calm the rest of my nerves. Sure, I'm going to be making a speech in front of the mer world's most powerful rulers, but I know what I'm doing. I know that world and how it works—way better than I'll ever understand life on land. Things are going to work out just fine.

“At least you'll have good hair,” Doe says, pulling away from Brody to admire her work. She reaches out to smooth a piece of my frizz. “It would be better if you'd let me weave in some green and turquoise. . . .” She tilts her head to the side and studies me. “But it definitely looks better than usual.”

“Gee, thanks.” I roll my eyes, even though I'm grateful for her efforts to salvage my blue hair. I self-consciously reach up to push the ends back over my shoulders.

Doe has worked a little mer magic, evening out the blue and painting it in some spots to make it look intentional. I wouldn't usually rock the blue-hair look, but the end result is actually quite pretty.

She retreats back to Brody's side, giving me and Quince some space.

“Maybe I should come,” Quince says, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I can reschedule my shift.”

I lift my hands to his cheeks. “No, go to work.” I force an unwavering smile. “I'll be fine.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.”

Lifting up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. I only meant to give him a quick kiss, but I linger, loving the feel of his warmth and loving him for being willing to use his
aqua respire
, even though the power to breathe water must still feel weird to him.

For one perfect moment I push the rest of the world to the side.

But I can't push them aside forever.

I pull back, loving that he follows me like he can't get enough of me, either. Time to go embrace my duty. I have a kingdom to help save.

“Want me to wish you luck?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Luck.” Another kiss on the tip of my nose. “Princess.” He winks. “Not that you'll need it.”

I sigh and rest my palm on his chest, reassured to feel the outline of the sand dollar necklace beneath his shirt. He traces my matching necklace, visible above my tank top.

“If you need me . . . ,” he begins.

“. . . I'll send for you.”

We share one more moment before I step back, out of his embrace, and turn to face the ocean. I can't see the guards, but I know they're there. Just beneath the surface, just beyond the shore. Ready to escort me home, a crown princess facing her first official act as future queen of Thalassinia.

I force my legs not to quiver as I walk into the surf. As soon as I reach the water, as soon as the salty sea splashes over my legs, I feel instantly better. The calming effect of salt water washes away my worries. As the waves splash higher and higher, I feel calmer and calmer. More courageous and ready to face what's waiting for me in Thalassinia.

I turn to wave good-bye to my gang on the beach.

Quince, Shannen, and Brody wave back.

Doe calls out, “Don't choke!”

I throw her a thanks-a-lot scowl before turning and sinking into the sea.

The guards surround me before I've even had time to transfigure from my finkini into my tailfin. They keep their backs to me as I change, but their protection is like a solid wall around me.

“Okay,” I say, once my green-and-gold tailfin is in place. “I'm ready.”