right. That still doesn’t mean you’re wrong, Kurt. We’re still Sea

People with massive life spans.”

And then I want to throw up. The realization creeps up like bile

in my throat. “Since the king’s powers are weakening-”

“Then the seal is broken,” Kurt catches on. “Open for anyone.”

“In my dreams, Nieve is weak and fragile,” I say. “Imagine how

strong she’ll be if she drinks from the springs. If anyone can bring

death to Eternity, Nieve can.” I repeat the line of the prophecy, “

And the daughter of the sea weeps darkness . That’s Nieve right

there.”

“That could explain where Gregorious got the water,” Mom says.

“You said he knew of the championship before it happened. He could’ve

realized what it would do to the seas and seized the opportunity to

restore himself.”

“But how would Nieve find out about Greg?” I stand in front of the

kitchen window. Between the twinkling buildings, there is a patch of

darkness where, for the first time this summer, Coney Island is

completely turned off.

“I’m sure the sea witch would find a way,” Kurt says. “Though I

wonder-only the guard has access to combat fire.”

“Kai,” Gwen presses. “Is there a map to the Springs of Aurora?”

I snap my fingers, trying to pull a memory from my exhausted mess

of thoughts. “Oh. Oh. I’m having a thought.”

“Speaking of myths,” Kurt mumbles.

“Shut up. I have thoughts.” I shove him and he shoves me back.

Gwen stands between us, and I turn around and walk to the other end of

the table. “There was a map of a tree. It had stars and a river. It

was in Greg’s giant stack of mermaid porn.”

“My father could be in danger, Tristan.” Kai rubs the chill off

her arms. “If Greg was a target, any of the elders could be next. My

father’s collection is extensive. I think we should go to the Hall of

Records. It’s ten leagues south of this shore.”

I take Kai by her shoulders. “Does he have a map?”

She clenches her hand over her heart and nods. “We have to go

now.”

I point to Kurt. “I need you to stay here.”

“You need me,” Kurt says.

“Someone has to stay here and make sure everyone is safe.” Then I

add, “I trust you.”

“Take Gwenivere, at least,” Kurt says painfully.

Gwen is almost as startled as I am. She reaches out a hand and

strokes his bicep. “I knew we’d start getting along sooner or later.”

Kurt shakes his head, fighting a smile. “That has nothing to do

with it. Just get Tristan there and back.”

I load up my weapons and Kai takes one of Thalia’s swords. Kurt

grips my forearm and squeezes. “May the seas bend to your journey.”

Kai and Gwen slink into the baby waves.

I turn around once to look at the dark boardwalk, the yellow tape

around the closed park, and I promise myself I’m going to make this

right.

The slits of my scales itch when water hits them. I pull tight on

the straps of my backpack and the holster around my hip. When the

water is up to my waist, I dive.

The water is dark, hard to see through. Sand gets kicked up. My

neck tickles where the cold water rushes in and out. My breathing

feels tight as my lungs expand in anticipation of my shift. The

numbness starts at my hips and races down to my ankles. If I had toes

right now, I’d be wiggling them. Ahead of me, the girls have already

shifted and I follow the gleam of their sparkling tails.

For miles, there is nothing. No fish, no stones, no boulders. No

shadows of ships drifting above us. For miles, it’s just swimming.

Kai leads the way. Her scales are a powdery green. The tips of her

tail look like bursts of chiffon trailing along. Everything about her

is grand and slender. Like watching a flower dance underwater.

Gwen, on the other hand, is a strong and fast swimmer. Her scales

are white with splotches of black. Her hair is like a white cloud

melting into water. Where Kai is delicate, graceful, Gwen swims with a

confidence I recognize in myself. She even sings a wordless melody

that fills the whole sea.

Kai stops and swims circles around us. She points to a dull,

rippling current that cuts through the ocean like a pipe. She dives

in, and the next moment, she’s zooming away. The suction pulls me

down, so fast I have to shut my eyes. My mouth pulls back, and I have

to spit out tiny fish that are getting stuck in my teeth. I lose count

of the minutes, enjoying the numbness of the current until Kai yells

“Here!” and makes a sharp right out of the current.

Unlike the pair of them, my exit isn’t graceful. It’s like trying

to stand up on the anti-gravity ride at Luna Park. When I do, I hit a

boulder and hold on to my head to stop it from shaking.

Kai points to where the ground widens beneath us. Branches claw

out of cracks in boulders the size of trucks. My eyes adjust to the

darkness. I graze the hilt of my dagger for reassurance. It’s a really

sharp security blanket.

When we swim into an underpass, I shiver down to my fins. Here the

stones are blue, iridescent where they’ve been chipped away, revealing

the gem underneath. Fish the size of footballs gather around us in

neon colors. Their teeth are sharp, their faces like arrows leading

the way.

Along the walls are etchings depicting different scenes like a

time line: the circle of the earth, the separation of the heavens and

seas and volcanoes. The three separate pieces of the trident, wars,

and the trident whole again. Then there are things I don’t recognize:

beasts cut out of whole animal parts and symbols I have no name for.

Clouds, stars, and moon phases.

The current draws us deeper into the tunnel until we reach an

opening. We swim up again toward the clear light near the surface.

When I’m above ground, it takes a second to readjust. The cave is

massive, lit with torches.

“Where are we?” I trace the cool, blue stone.

Kai is in a half shift. The scales stop at the top of her thigh

and wash away everywhere else. Her feet smack wet on the ground. “The

entrance to the Hall of Records.”

I grab one of the torches on the wall and bring it with us.

“Father?” Kai calls out.

At first it’s enthusiastic, like she’s just waiting for him to

come out of the dark room and hug her.

We inch deeper into the hall. The room is lined with books,

shelves made by cutting away at stone walls. There are papers all over

a long rock slab of a table, ripped and crumbled. Pots of incense,

candles, powders, and roots are smashed to bits.

“Father?” Kai repeats.

I stick my hand out to stop Gwen from taking another step into the

den. “Be careful, there’s glass.”

“What a mess,” she says.

I pick up a bit of parchment, singed at the edges and soaked at

the center, ink running down the pages. When I try to lift it, it

becomes dust in my hands.

I reach out to grab Kai’s hand but she’s so quick, running over

the glass and into an opening to the right. We follow her into a

darkly lit room. At first I don’t know what I’m looking at. Then Kai’s

scream fills every nook and cranny of the cave. Atop a gleaming onyx

table is an old man with armored scales along his arms and legs.

There’s a knife stuck in his chest, just below his heart. His fingers

rest around it, keeping the pressure. His breath is a shallow rise and

fall. Eyes, the same crystal blue of his daughter, peel open. When he

blinks a few times, the color drains. It’s like I’m underwater again,

numb and wading at the bottom of the sea wearing ankle weights.