Maybe it’s his sharp blue eyes, maybe it’s that he dresses like

something out of a Jane Austen novel, or maybe it’s the slightest

trace of an accent. Whatever it is, the class is transfixed by his

words.

Kurt shakes his head at me. It’s not like I’m going to pull off

clothes to show my Spider Man costume and reveal my true identity or

anything.

Thankfully, Layla asks for me: “Did he just go up to an oracle and

ask?”

“If only it were as easy as that. It’s not the high-school

cafeteria where you ask Lourdes for extra fries and she gives them to

you. You present the oracle with a tribute, and if she’s in a good

mood, then she may give you an answer.”

“What kind of tribute?” I go. And they say you’ll never learn

anything useful in high school.

People start to whisper. He’s so weird. Good thing he’s cute. Can

you believe those are his cousins? I don’t care what anyone says,

green hair is so clichйd.

“Half your herd of cows. Your second wife. The blood of a virgin.

The usual.”

The sharp whistle of microphone feedback slices through the

loudspeaker. A small voice announces that all after-school activities

are canceled. I know we have a meet tomorrow and all, but my head’s

not in it right now.

Just then a sweet, soft hum fills the room. At first we look to

the speakers, because it’s not the first time the announcer has left

on the microphone while he’s jamming to his new-millennium pop

collection. This time it’s different. The temperature in the room

rises. The sound is like a lullaby, a pitch that wraps around you and

leads you wherever it wants.

Van Oppen smacks a book against the desk. “Whoever that is, please

turn it off. Now!”

But it isn’t coming from in here. It’s coming from the hallway.

There’s a hole in my stomach when I fear that somehow Nieve has found

a way to get me, that my dream after I fought Elias is coming true. I

grab my bag for my dagger at the same moment that the door flies open.

My breath is caught in my throat.

I hold on to my desk, because I feel as if I’m trying to wake up

from a nightmare.

She fluffs her messy white-blond hair, stepping into the room in a

slinky black dress under a bright pink motorcycle jacket and heels

that look like they’re made of sequins and glitter.

Elias’s fiancйe.

“Hi.” She leans against the doorframe. Her gray eyes find mine

without even searching the room. “I’m Gwen. Tristan’s cousin.”

They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains the hottest blood

of all, and the wildest, the most urgent. -D. H. Lawrence

Gwen.

So that’s her name. So sorry about your future husband, Gwen. It

wasn’t my fault. There’s this sea witch, you see?

“Don’t forget about us.” A sharp soprano voice echoes through the

hallway. Behind Gwen is a cluster of girls, girls I’ve only seen as

mermaids.

The court princesses are at my school. It’s one thing for me to

have this secret I can barely keep from my friends; now I have to deal

with the rest of the school. I’m halfway sitting, halfway standing.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Come, now, Tristan.” Gwen steps forward. “That’s no way to treat

your family.” She hands Van Oppen a piece of paper, along with a smile

that would have most men on their knees pledging their love for her.

Not me, of course.

From where I stand, it’s just a blank piece of paper, but he nods

with a tense smile and tucks it in with his other papers mumbling

something that sounds like “more of them.”

As the princesses walk in, there isn’t a single person who isn’t

staring at them. The glamours may disguise their naturally raw colors

and their flawless faces. But nothing can disguise their hourglass

figures as they move through the desk aisles like snakes in the

desert.

There are four of them, from the princess with a lush head of

chestnut waves who wears a shirt so tiny she might as well be wearing

two clam shells on her breasts, to the one with ivory skin and

plum-purple hair gathered in a bun. Like Thalia, nothing disguises the

slight point to their ears or the gem-like eyes that glance giddily

around the classroom.

“Dude,” Angelo goes, “can I come to your next Christmas party?”

Sure, if Christmas is going to be ten thousand leagues under the

sea and Rudolph is going to be a sea horse named Atticus.

Gwen takes the empty seat behind me just as the bell rings. I get

up right away, because part of me is afraid she’s going to take out a

knife and stab me in the back. She thinks I killed her fiancйe, and

now she’s going to try to kill me on my own turf.

My classmates stand aside to let Gwen leave first. I lean against

the lockers just outside the door, and she stands in front of me. The

metal bits of her leather jacket clink, clink . The gray of her eyes

is harsh, and they’re set on my face. Still, when she smiles,

everything about her softens.

“I’m guessing this isn’t your first time on land,” I say.

She shakes her head slowly. “I’ve got a few years on you,

foot-fin.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that.”

“I can do whatever I want.” She crosses her arms over her chest,

which pushes her cleavage up and out. Not that I’m noticing or

anything.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

She shrugs. “It’s tradition for eligible princesses to seek a

champion for courtship. Brendan and Dylan are being visited by dozens

of mermaids from every inch of the seas. Technically, I’m betrothed,

so I don’t have to be here. But my fiancй’s gone missing because of

some half-breed claiming the throne.”

Fine. If she wants to go that route. “I’m flattered you’ve chosen

me to rebound on, especially after what you did to your champion.”

If she weren’t already so white, I’d say she goes pale at that.

But the shock that registers on her face is all the proof I need that

she helped Layla win, that she did something to Elias, which makes her

guiltier than it makes me.

“That’s right, Princess. I know .”

She purses her full pink lips, seething. For a moment, I think

she’s going to hit me, but she just turns on her heel and struts down

the hall as if she’s done it a hundred times before.

When the other princesses come out, they walk past and touch my

face and poke my abs and my butt. The one with the plum-purple hair

tries to go right for the goods, and then the princesses disappear.

They mingle into the flow of students. Angelo pushes past me, hot on

the trail of a girl who could probably eat him alive in a second, not

that he’d complain.

At the first glimpse of Kurt’s face, I throw my hands in the air

and yell at him. “I have to court the princesses? Why didn’t you tell

me?”

He seems as surprised as I am. “I honestly didn’t remember that

part of the championship. I didn’t think they’d be interested in you.”

“ Thanks . I really feel the love, bro.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that you’re human. Part human. I

should’ve taken into account that you’re the grandson of the king. The

princesses are sort of-”

“Shallow?” Layla suggests, seemingly too happy at my misery.

“I’ve swum in deeper puddles than them,” Thalia snarls. “They

don’t want mates, they want meals.”

“Cool, so mergirls are easy,” Layla says. She shoots a finger

toward me. “Hey! That explains you.”

When I don’t laugh, she pats Thalia’s shoulder. “No offense.”

“None taken. I absolutely loathe those girls.” Her cheeks puff up.