Just for Fins (4 page)

“Wel—”

“What in all the oceans is this about?”

Everyone turns to look at the door, where Queen Dumontia—in all her icy-blue glory—is sweeping into the room like a wave into a tide pool. Her long, beautiful hair swirls around her, creating an aura of silvery white. The look on her face is as stark as the arctic world she rules. Stony and cold.

My stomach backflips.

“Queen Dumontia of Glacialis,” Mangrove calls out belatedly, his voice quivering.

She tosses a dark look in his direction, and he quickly backs out of the chamber.

“You are right on time, Queen Dumontia,” I say, trying to keep the fear out of my suddenly tight voice. “We were just about to begin.”

She washes her gaze over the room, maybe to find an empty seat for herself and her bodyguards, or maybe to give everyone a nasty look. When she spots a vacant chair between King Zostero of Desfleurelle and one of Queen Cypraea's advisers, she swims over the entire table to get there.

As she settles into her seat—the bodyguards taking their places behind her, in very military-looking stances—she mutters, “I can't believe we had to answer the request of a mere child. Again.” She cuts a look at King Zostero. “Probably as much a waste of time as the one
your
brat called.”

The silence of the room only makes her comments resonate more.

In that moment, as scared as I am, I am also annoyed. I am not a child. I am a crown princess. It is my right—and my duty, in this instance—to call a council of kings and queens.

If she doesn't like it, then she can just deal.

I clear my throat, drawing back the attention of the room. Even Dumontia reluctantly turns her gaze on me.

I avoid that gaze as I begin.

“Welcome, kings and queens of the Western Atlantic,” I say, maintaining my calm even as Tellin pulls his hand away. “Thank you for coming all the way to Thalassinia. I have called you here today to request your help. One of our sister kingdoms is in trouble”—I glance at Tellin and find him looking solemn and concerned—“but together I know we can help. Crown Prince Tellin of Acropora will tell you more about the problem.”

I float back a bit to let Tellin share his part. I watch the gathered assembly as he talks about the dying ecosystem, the mass emigrations, and the bleak future of his kingdom. My emotions well up, and I expect to see matching tear-glittered eyes in the rest of the room, but I don't. Everyone is listening attentively—even Dumontia—but they look kind of unaffected.

Maybe they've learned how to mask their emotions better than I have.

When Tellin finishes his part, I float forward and prepare to make the formal request.

“As you can imagine, Acropora is in desperate need of our help.” I look out over the crowd, trying to make eye contact with as many rulers as I can. “That is why we have called you here. To ask for pledges of support. What Acroporans need most right now are food and first aid, but that will only help in the short run. They also need long-term assistance in the form of broader trade routes and refuge in other kingdoms and, ultimately, in rebuilding their ecosystem.”

I clasp my hands together as I finish, proud of myself for making it all the way to the end of my thoughts without stumbling once. I look out eagerly at the room.

It feels like an eternity before anyone responds. My heart beats faster, and I have to squeeze my hands tighter to keep them from shaking. I'm facing down the most powerful merfolk in my corner of the ocean—and their entourages—and they're looking at me like I've asked for a great white-themed birthday party.

When someone—Queen Dumontia, of course—finally speaks, I twirl to face her with equal parts anticipation and fear.

I shouldn't have bothered with the anticipation.

“How dare you?” she demands, and I swear I can feel her chill all the way across the table. “To ask for generosity in times such as these? Acropora is not the only kingdom suffering the effects of environmental change.”

“No, it's not.”

“So are we.”

“Us too.”

As several kings and queens chime in, I glance around the table. “What do you mean?”

“The polar ice caps are melting,” Dumontia says. “The saline concentration in our waters is fluctuating, and the plankton at the base of our food chain is dying. All levels of our ecosystem are suffering subtle but ultimately catastrophic changes.”

“I—I'm sorry,” I say, focusing on sounding intelligent and not standing there slack-jawed at the confession. “I didn't know.”

I mean, of course I knew about melting polar ice caps. Everyone who's taken a science class in the last decade knows about melting polar ice caps. But I hadn't made the connection between that and the northern mer kingdoms.

I should have realized.

“Perhaps we can help you, too,” I suggest.

“And what about Desfleurelle?” King Zostero asks. “That pipeline leak was far worse than the human news reported. Millions of gallons of oil flooded our waters, drowning surface species and coating acres of marine life with an oily film.”

“You have received aid,” Daddy says, and I'm grateful for him stepping in to help. “From several kingdoms, including Acropora. Can you not return the favor?”

“A reluctant handout,” Zostero counters. “Your kingdom's leftovers.”

“The oil reached our kingdom as well,” the queen of Costa Solara chimes in. “None sent aid to us.”

“That little spill is nothing to the overfishing in our kingdoms,” the queen of Nephropida adds. “Every year, finding enough food to feed my people becomes more and more difficult. Not only in my kingdom's waters, but in Trigonum and Rosmarus as well.”

The kings of those two kingdoms nod in agreement.

“Perhaps you should not have cut off trading with all kingdoms in the south,” Daddy argues.

“You are so naive,” Dumontia says to me, ignoring everyone else in the room as their voices escalate, “to think you could call this meeting and hold out your hand to help your boyfriend.”

“He's not my—”

“To think one kingdom is in any greater need than another,” she interrupts. “It is pure fantasy.”

“I didn't mean that—”

“What do you know of the mer world anymore?”

“You've been living on land too long.”

“You've grown out of touch.”

“Now that is unfair,” Daddy argues.

The other voices are growing so loud that I can't distinguish them.

“I must look out for my own,” a voice louder than the others says. “I must take action to protect my kingdom and my people.”

Then the room erupts. It's as if everyone starts talking at once, comparing stories of environmental tragedy within their kingdoms. Arguing and bickering.

I look to Tellin, helpless, but he has moved to his father's side, trying to calm the old king down as he argues with the rulers on either side of him. I float slowly back from the table.

I thought I'd been calling a meeting to request help for Acropora, a kingdom dying as ocean warming kills off their coral reefs. A simple plea for aid that I thought would be readily answered.

Instead, I find the entire Western Atlantic in environmental turmoil. Thalassinia, it seems, has been lucky so far. We are protected, carefully situated between the overfished waters to the north, the warming waters to the south, and the oil-filled waters to the west.

I've always known Thalassinia was one of the more prosperous kingdoms. I just hadn't realized we were so lucky, too.

Across the long length of the table, Tellin lifts his gaze and looks at me. He doesn't have to say a word. The bond takes care of that, of sharing his feelings with me, even at a distance. I can tell he's disappointed, and it's all my fault. I insisted we call this council of kings and queens, I insisted it was the best way to help his people. I was so sure. So confident.

So wrong.

The voices in the room get louder and the arguments swell. Each king or queen is adamant that his or her kingdom suffers the worst fate. Their shouts echo off the chamber walls until all I hear is the roar of sound vibrating through the water.

“Enough!” Dumontia's shout resonates above all the rest.

The room falls silent once more as the arguments gradually fade and the occupants turn their attention to the arctic queen.

“This,” she says with a sneer, waving her hand over the table, “has been a waste of time and resources.” Her eyes focus in on me. “Do not call for my attendance again.”

Then, without another word, she turns and swims out the door. The wake of her fin flicks and those of her bodyguards wash through the room.

King Zostero floats up. “This has accomplished nothing,” he declares before following Dumontia's path.

“No, wait,” I call out, trying to salvage the purpose of this meeting. “We can still do something.”

One by one, the other rulers rise from the table and storm from the room, until only Daddy, Tellin, and King Gadus are left. King Gadus tosses an angry look at his son.

“I hope you're—” A violent coughing fit cuts off his sentence. When Tellin tries to help him, Gadus knocks his hand away. The old king draws himself up straight. “I hope you're happy.”

Then he follows the rest of the kings and queens.

“I—” I shake my head, overwhelmed by what just happened, by everything that I just learned is happening in my world. “I had no idea.”

Then, without waiting for either Tellin or Daddy to say anything—really, what's to say?—I turn and swim away.

Chapter 5

I
don't realize where I'm swimming until I get there. I blindly move along hallway after hallway, around corner after corner, my mind racing with the reality of what just happened. Detail after detail replays in my thoughts, with flashes of oil spills and overfishing and melting ice caps. The scope of the problem is overwhelming. Eventually I find myself floating through the door to the map room.

I look around at the familiar room, and I'm transported to a calmer place.

This used to be one of my favorite rooms to explore in the whole palace. As I swim in, the walls on either side of the room are lined with countless drawers of maps. Ancient maps, modern maps. Maps of mer kingdoms from around the world. Human maps that have been treated with a special kind of wax to be able to survive underwater. There is even an entire stack of drawers dedicated to treasure maps. My ancestors had a knack for talking pirates out of their secrets, and as a mergirl I dreamed of seeking out those buried boxes of gold and gems.

The most impressive element in the room, however, is the wall opposite the door. It is covered in a giant mosaic map of the world's oceans. The Atlantic is in the center of the map, with the ten kingdoms of the Western Atlantic marked by borders in the colors of each kingdom. Glacialis, far to the north, is drawn in white. Marbella Nova is a yellow-rimmed kidney bean in the south. Acropora is marked in red. Thalassinia, in the very center, is outlined in bright royal blue.

Beyond the Western Atlantic are countless other kingdoms: in the Eastern and Southern Atlantic another fifteen kingdoms; too many to memorize in the different parts of the Pacific; and a few in the Indian Ocean. And that doesn't even include those lake and river kingdoms that are landlocked on the seven continents. Well, not Antarctica—solid ice is no place for a mermaid—but the other six, anyway.

So many different kingdoms, so many different problems. And I never thought much beyond the concerns of my own shores. I can't believe I've been this . . . self-centered.

I'm ashamed that I have let myself be so disconnected from my people and my kin. Just because Thalassinia has been spared environmental catastrophe so far doesn't mean we always will be. And it doesn't mean I can bury my head in the sand and ignore what's happening in other parts of my world.

I sense Tellin entering the room before he speaks.

“It was worth a try.”

I don't turn around.

“You were right,” I say, floating up to the center of the map. “I was a fool to believe it would be that easy.”

I trace my fingertips over the southern border of Thalassinia, where it meets the bright-red border of Acropora.

He swims up next to me. “Nothing this important is ever easy.” He covers my hand with his, and together we trace our shared border. “But that doesn't mean we give up.”

“I just—” I pull my hand away and float down to the floor. “I never realized how bad things were getting.”

“How could you have known?”

“I could have been here; I could have taken up my duties sooner.” I can feel the tears stinging at my eyes, but I can't stop them. “I could have been helping, instead of playing at being human.”

Tellin sinks down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “But you
are
human,” he says, giving me a squeeze. “Half, anyway. You weren't playing, you were finding yourself.”

“But what if I—”

“You could not have known,” a booming voice interrupts. Daddy lingers in the doorway, as if he does not wish to intrude on our moment.

“What do you mean?” I ask, swimming out of Tellin's hug. I don't want Daddy—or anyone—getting the wrong impression that my heart lies anywhere but with Quince.

“I mean,” Daddy says, “that I kept the concerns of the mer world from you. I did not wish them to influence your decision.”

I just stare at him, confused.

“You have your mother's compassion,” he says with a smile that's just a little sad at the edges, “and her sense of justice. I wanted you to make the choices that were best for
you
, not only for your people.”

“I—” This shouldn't come as a shock. Even when I was considering signing my title away to be with Quince on land, Daddy supported me without hesitation. Of course he wouldn't want the plight of my people—of my mer kin—to influence that choice. That doesn't mean I think he was right to do it, but I understand and appreciate it all the same.

“Thank you.” I swim forward and wrap him in a big hug. “I wish you hadn't done that, but I get why you did.”

My stomach flip-flops at the thought of how close I came to giving up my ability to help the mer world in an official capacity.

What if I hadn't decided at the last minute—the last possible moment—to bond with Tellin and save my title? What if I'd decided to stay on land and then found out later how bad things are in the ocean? I would have been devastated.

I shake my head. That doesn't matter now. I made the right decision, that's what's important, and I'm going to make a difference.

“What are we going to do?” I ask both Daddy and Tellin.

“What can we do?” Tellin replies. There is a sadness in his eyes, a resignation that stabs me in the gut.

I look at Daddy, but he just shakes his head. He doesn't know either.

“Well, I don't know,” I say. “Yet. But I'm going to figure something out.” I give Tellin a confident look. “To help the mer world
and
Acropora. To get them to realize we have to work together or we will all suffer.”

“In the meantime,” Daddy says, “we can send some emergency supplies and aid to Acropora. I will instruct the guard to send a contingent carrying food and medical supplies with you, Tellin, when you return home.”

Tellin straightens his spine and smiles. “I appreciate the offer, King Whelk.”

Daddy nods and says, “I will go see to the preparations.”

Then he gives me a look—I'm not sure if it's pride or concern, maybe both—before swimming out of the room. He won't say so, because he doesn't like to influence my decisions, but I can tell he's glad I made the choices I did. Not that he would have ever made me feel bad for walking away. Still, he's proud of me, I can tell. I just need to figure out how to live up to that pride.

When Daddy's gone, I turn back to the map. “The problem is so much bigger than I thought.” So big it seems almost insurmountable. And this is just within our local waters. “I wonder if the other regions around the globe are suffering the way ours is.”

“I have not heard anything,” Tellin replies.

“That doesn't mean there aren't problems.” I glance over the map, skimming over all the mer kingdoms in the far corners of the world. “They might be trying to solve them on their own, just like your father was. Just like the other kingdoms are right now.”

“Here they are!”

I turn at the sound of my best friend's voice. “Peri!”

She swims into the map room with Tellin's girlfriend at her side and a school of Acroporan guards floating close behind.

“The king wishes to depart, Prince,” the head guard says.

Lucina swims up to Tellin's side. “He seemed in a foul mood,” she says, taking his hands in hers. “Did the council meeting go poorly?”

“You could say that,” he replies.

He lowers his head until their foreheads touch, and I can't help but sigh at the gesture.

Peri leans close to my ear and whispers, “So, wanna tell me why your hair is blue?”

I wince. “No,” I reply. “Actually, I don't.”

She gives me a look that says I'll have to fess up eventually.

I ignore that look.

“See your father safely home,” I urge Tellin. “Get the supplies Daddy is sending to your people. Hopefully that will help.”

“It will,” Tellin replies. “But not enough.”

I give him a solemn look. “I know that. We're going to figure out what to do. We just need to regroup, to look at the problem again with what we learned today.”

“I will gather my father's advisers,” Tellin says. “I will tell them what happened and we will discuss our options.”

“And I'll do the same,” I promise. “I'll send you a gull if I figure something out.”

Tellin nods. “As will I.”

I watch him swim away with his girlfriend and his royal guard, and I am more determined than ever to find a solution to our problems.
All
of our problems.

Because if there's anything that the disastrous council meeting taught me—and the great mosaic in the map room reminded me—it's that all the world's oceans are really one. And a problem that faces one mer kingdom affects us all.

“So the meeting didn't go as planned, huh?” Peri asks.

I sigh out all my frustrations. “A complete conch shell from start to finish.”

“Come on,” she says, twining an arm around mine and guiding me from the room. “I hear Laver has some fresh kelpcakes. You can tell me all about it over some sugar and frosting.”

“Sounds perfect.”

I trust Peri more than just about anyone, and she's one of the smartest mergirls I know. Maybe she can help me find a solution. Even if she can't, she'll listen as I talk it through.

 

Laver can be very protective of his treats, so Peri and I run the play we've been practicing since we were guppies. She distracts Laver by asking him some very involved question about cooking while I sneak into the room and grab a pair of contraband goodies.

We meet up in the hallway, giggling like little mergirls as we swim away with the tasty prize.

Only this time, as we rush down the hall with key lime kelpcakes in hand, we don't make a clean getaway.

“Princess Waterlily,” a mocking voice calls out as we swim toward the ramp to my bedroom. “Fleeing the scene of the disaster?”

Giggles bubble across the hall as I turn to face three of the last merpeople I wanted to see . . . ever. The terrible trio. They have matching looks of delight on their overly made-up faces.

“Don't they ever leave the palace?” I mutter under my breath. “Astria, Piper, Venus,” I say, “what an unexpected surprise.”

“Great white,” Astria gasps with a disgusted sneer. “What happened to your hair?”

My cheeks burn, but Peri comes to my rescue.

“It's the latest thing.” She smooths her fingers through the blue strands. “Mother says every mergirl will be doing it by next month.”

Being the daughter of the most popular dressmaker in the kingdom has perks when it comes to fashion. The terrible trio exchange a glance before Astria dives back in on her original attack.

So much for my reprieve.

“We heard about the council meeting,” Astria says, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Did the foreign kings and queens really storm out in protest?”

“So dramatic,” Venus says.

Piper echoes, “Dramatic.”

I shake my head. “No, that's not what happened.”

It's not too far off from the truth, but they didn't exactly leave in
protest
. More like in disgust.

“That's not what we heard,” Astria argues. “Did Queen Dumontia really put you in your place?”

“No, she—”

“What do you know about it?” Peri blurts.

Astria's piercing gaze shifts from me to Peri. I watch my best friend, spine stiff in either terror or courage, face down one of her fiercest enemies. I'm proud of her, even though her clenched fists are shaking against her hips.

“Did you suddenly grow a backbone, parasite?” Astria sneers.

“Or maybe,” Venus counters, “you're just borrowing Princess Waterlily's.”

“Borrowing.” Piper nods enthusiastically.

Peri drifts back an inch. I nudge myself closer to her side, letting her know she has my support.