“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.