“Like I told you, I was born last. The youngest of the last
generation of sea oracles.”
If she’s the baby, I’m afraid to see what the others look like.
“I do not have the powers of sight. Not for the past. Not for the
present. Not for the future. My eyes are as blind between the veils as
a human to the world.”
I’m starting to think we’re in the wrong place.
“And yet I can interpret the bones of the sea to the querent. That
is you.” In her frail hand she holds a handful of something. They
click against each other like marbles. Maybe they are bones.
“Ask me anything.”
“Anything?” Will I win? is at the top of my list. Will I die now?
Will Layla love me? Will Nieve find me? It all seems sort of trivial
when I say it to myself. When my friend is dead because of me. And for
what? A piece of ancient Sea Court? An oversized fork that conducts
electricity? Will I ever get my life back? Do I even want my life
back? What if after the end of all of this, I screw everything up? Can
my team win another championship without me? Can I rule an entire
race? How many more are going to die because of me?
“Ask me now, Master Tristan, or the time will pass!”
Why is it that when someone wants to tell you the truth about the
matter, you’d rather just not know. We want the truth, but what we
really want is to be lied to, to pretend things are going to work out
when they probably won’t. No one wants to hear, I don’t love you. That
dress isn’t your size. You’re pregnant. The paper you worked so hard
on is a C- at best. We’re better off as friends. And here she is,
asking what I want to know, and all I want to do is put my fingers in
my ears and wait and see what happens.
“Tristan,” Gwen urges me.
“I want to know if you actually have a piece of the trident.”
She smirks and rattles the things cupped in her hands, and they
click like die. She lets go, and they fall on the surface of the pond
but do not move. They float around each other until they’re completely
still for her to look at. “Are you sure?”
She’d make a good poker player, good enough to even play with Mr.
Santos. But then a dark shadow crosses over her features. The
seashells sink to the bottom of the water, and I’m no expert, but I’m
pretty sure she’s not too happy about it.
She sets her black eyes on me. “Who have you told of this place?”
“N-no one. Why?”
“You have been followed.”
As she says it, my dagger heats in my hand. I turn around when I
hear Gwen gasping for air. All the light fairies scuttle behind leaves
and boulders, so the light is stretched out too far and the shadows
grow longer.
I don’t need light to see who followed us here. Elias’s hand holds
her at the neck. Her pale fingers hold his wrist. Her eyes are open
like small bursts of lighting.
“Don’t you touch her,” I say.
“I already am.” Elias’s voice is a growl. “She’s mine to do with
as I please.”
He steps forth, still dripping water. He’s in the same clothes I
last saw him in, but the chain mail around his waist looks more
rusted, his skin more green than tan.
“This isn’t very champion-like.”
He still isn’t looking at me. The skin around his eyes is breaking
apart. The smell of rotting fish is heavy in the air, and this time I
have to do something. Gwen kicks at the air as he raises her up with
one arm.
Behind me, the oracle in her red shroud is waddling away to
safety. I don’t really blame her. I just wish my body didn’t feel so
frozen.
“Especially when she’d prefer a champion like me, right?” I say.
The effect is instant. His face shoots sideways at me. “At least I
don’t stink.”
He turns back to Gwen slowly.
I keep going, “You didn’t really think she’d sit around waiting
for you. She needs a real merman, not a fake king who lost to a human
girl.”
He tosses Gwen to the side, and I fight the impulse to run to her
and make sure she’s okay, because she isn’t moving.
Elias charges at me, all arms and bare chest, a blurred shadow.
“A little help , ladies,” I mumble. One of the light fairies flies
around us. She pulls at his ears and kicks him, which is like getting
smacked around by a Barbie doll, really. All I need is for her to stay
close enough that I can see him.
I grab his arms, dropping my dagger, and hold them above my head.
He has no weapons, just brute strength. With my knee I get him right
in the gut. He tenses up and clutches his stomach. He grabs at his
throat, his chest, and heaves for air. I roll over him and start
punching him in the face.
I’ve only ever seen guys get into fights at school, in the park,
in the middle of the street. I used to wonder what made the guy
winning look so vicious. Now, with Elias’s face bloody and tender
under my fists, I don’t feel any pity for him. I think of how he let
everyone think he was dead, how he hurt Gwen. And in this moment, I
swear to myself that I will never hurt a girl again.
Elias stops moving. I can feel his body go limp under me.
I can’t breathe.
I roll over.
Fall into the pond. The water is shallow enough that it doesn’t
cover my face. The cool of the water is the best feeling against my
skin. A fairy floats above my face and lands right on my nose on her
little toes. Her body is a slick Thumbelina version of a perfect
woman, and her hair lights up at the very tips. Huh. So it’s her hair
that’s the light, not her wings. She flies to my chest and lies there,
right over my heart, which feels like it’s going to tunnel right out.
I notice Gwen standing over me. The little fairy gasps and runs
away, taking the light with her. Gwen puts her head on my chest where
the fairy just did, like she’s listening for my heartbeat or just
looking for a pillow. I rake my shaking fingers through her hair.
“Ouch,” she says when I hit a tangle.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You saved me.”
I guess I did. She sits up and stares at her ex-fiancй. I wonder
what she’s thinking. Is she even a little bit sad? Is she going to
hate me tomorrow?
The oracle isn’t coming out of her hiding spot behind a small
boulder.
“It’s okay,” I call out to her. “He’s not getting up anytime
soon.”
But he does, because the next thing I feel when I sit up is arms
bending me in a headlock. Motherf-
And the voice that screeches in my ear doesn’t belong to Elias
anymore. It’s the one I’ve dreamt of for days. It comes in heaves, a
deep scraping thing. Something inside him gasping for air. Then I
realize that the gasping sound is coming from me. I can’t breathe.
Closer is the only word I can make out.
Then Elias goes stiff. He falls on top of me, and I have to push
with everything I have to roll him off my back. He lands sideways with
my dagger in his back. Smoke fumes around the golden hilt.
“Any further and you would’ve scratched me,” I say, crawling over
to Gwen, who is holding her hands out like she’s waiting for rain. Her
palms are raw and red, black in places where fire has burned her.
“Did the dagger do that?”
She nods once, wincing in pain. She dips her hands in the pond and
shuts her eyes. The water running over her hands glows. When she pulls
them out, the skin is starting to grow back, but it isn’t healed
completely. “It isn’t meant to be touched by anyone but your family
line.”
“Duh, Triton’s blade.”
“Triton’s blade, indeed.” The little voice comes out from its
hiding place.