The Savage Blue, Page 2

“That’s when Gwen found me. She figured out how to find the oracle.”

  “That I did.” Gwen smirks. “So we stole—what was it?”

  “A bicycle,” I say. “We went to the train.”

  “How did you know where to go?” Kurt glances between me and Gwen.

  “Scrying, my dear Kurtomathetis,” Gwen answers sweetly. “How do you know how to do that?” Kurt leans forward.

  “I know many things.” Gwen leans forward, too, just to show how unintimidated she is by him. “What would you have done? Threaten the pretty necklace with your sword until it answered you?”

  “Easy,” I say, putting hands between them. “Gwen held the necklace up to the map, and it hit right on Central Park like a magnet. Shelly was there, waiting for us near Turtle Pond.”

  “What did she look like?” Layla asks.

  “Like a blobby fish,” Gwen says, shivering. “Drooping and wrinkled. I had no idea oracles were so hideous.”

  “They aren’t,” Kurt says softly. “Not all of them.”

  “Shelly—don’t laugh at her name, you guys. She’s cool, okay? Said she was the youngest of the remaining five oracle sisters. That’s why she’s got the fewest powers. She was talking in this rhyme, all vague. Why are supernatural people so vague?”

  “When you live forever,” Kurt says, “you get bored. Riddles, games, quests. It’s part of our life.”

  “O-kay.” Layla’s eyeing the Venus pearl spinning in my hand. “If you gave it back to her, why do you still have it?”

  “She gifted it to me.” I shrug. I wonder what would happen if I offered it to Layla. Would she throw it back in my face? I wish I’d never given it to someone else first. “Something about my bravery and good looks.”

  “I bet,” she says drily.

  Kurt nods to Gwen. “And what happened to your hands?” As a reflex, Gwen balls them into tiny fists behind her back. “Elias showed up,” I say.

  “Gwen’s ex-fiancé Elias?” Layla asks. “Champion of the East whatever. I thought he disappeared.”

  “He was dead,” I correct. Before they can interrupt me again, “I’ve never been around dead bodies, but I’ll never forget the smell. Bits of his skin were falling off, but he was still strong. He spoke in Nieve’s voice.”

  They’re silent. Nieve, the silver witch of my nightmares.

  “I recognized the voice from my dreams.” I push my plate of food away. “I’d swear on anything that Nieve was the one pulling the strings. Can she do that?”

  “I wasn’t alive when Nieve was at court,” Kurt says. “The king banished her after she killed the queen and led the rebellion against the throne. They say she was able to make you see things—cruel things, nightmares. Until your mind was weak enough to control.”

  His eyes fall back on Gwen. “How did you get rid of Elias?”

  Gwen lifts up her chin defiantly. She holds out her palms to show us the black scabs of burn marks. “I took Triton’s dagger and drove it into him.”

  He shrinks back, surprised. “Oh…”

  We’re quiet for a moment. Gwen gets up and walks away from us. She leans on the side of the ship and watches the mountains of clouds left behind in our wake.

  Layla rests her hand on my knee. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  I place my hand on top of hers but don’t answer.

  Kurt is staring at Gwen. “Is there anything else?”

  Gwen with her smoke-bending magic fingers. In the Sea Court, the merfolk who still have traces of magic have to register with the court and king. The merfolk fear magic the way humans fear lunatics with guns. They think it’s unpredictable and unreliable. Gwen is by no means registered. After everything she’s done for me, I can’t betray her secret.

  “Hey, Arion,” I call out. “Where in the world are we?”

  Arion uses the black ropes to pull himself over the deck. The strong winds ripple against the sails so he tightens them. “Steady on the Southern Channel. We’ll have to wait for Lady Thalia to return with an approximation of time.”

  “She’s been gone since sunrise,” Layla says.

  Arion tugs on his black beard. “It won’t be long now, Master Tristan. The trick to the Vanishing Cove is making sure we don’t miss it.”

  “You’re not saying it literally vanishes?” Layla asks, wonder-struck.

  “I don’t like this.” Gwen pounds her fists on the wood. “I don’t like being stuck on a boat.”

  Casting a long shadow over Gwen, Kurt points an authoritative finger in her face. “None of us are stuck here, Lady Gwenivere. You’re more than welcome to return to Toliss Island and resume your duties at court.”

  Under the shade of the mainsail, we stand in a broken circle. Now I know why Thalia volunteered to swim off and scout the remaining distance to the cove.

  “Ah, right you are, Kurtomathetis of the Sea Guard.” Gwen crosses her slender arms over her chest, emphasizing the cleavage her bikini barely covers. “The only one stuck here is our captain. As is this foot-fin over here.” She waves at Layla dismissively.

  Layla seethes, “Don’t call me that.”

  Gwen smiles through it. She sees the argument forming on my lips and looks away, but doesn’t apologize. “What I mean is, we’ve been on this ship for nearly two days.”

  “Congratulations on your accelerated ability to count,” Layla says.

  Gwen throws her hands in the air and makes very un-princesslike exclamations. “What I mean is there are other ways of getting to the Vanishing Cove. We are Sea People. We swim.”

  Unbidden, the attack of the merrows returns to the forefront of my mind. “We’re stronger together.”

  “The championship ends in six days and seven nights,” she reminds me. “Then the champions return to Toliss for the final duel. Need I remind you that, without a trident, there is no king, and without a king—”

  “We know what happens,” Kurt says roughly. “Without a king, we will be left with destruction and chaos. That is why the champions travel on ships armed to the masts with soldiers. When the throne is weakened, not even the sea is kind to us.”

  Gwen’s cheeks are sucked in like she’s holding back the venom on her tongue. I can see the rage in her with nowhere to go. She throws it at the most vulnerable person she can find. “Oh, is that it? Here I thought we were staying dry because the foot-fin can’t swim.”

  Layla, one the fastest swimmers I know, freezes. She takes a step toward Gwen, but Kurt gets between them first. On any other day, I wouldn’t mind watching a girl fight. Especially when it’s pretty much about me. But the thing Layla doesn’t know, the thing even Kurt doesn’t know, is that if it weren’t for Gwen, Layla wouldn’t be alive.

  “Layla…” I warn. When she turns to me, I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say. Under the scent of washed wood and the salt of the ocean, I get a whiff of her—lavender and honey and light. Her nose is sunburnt and peeling. It makes me want to stand in the way and let the sun set me on fire instead.

  “Fine,” Layla says, steadying her breath. She turns around and climbs the steps to the ship’s wheel. “Take her side. I’ll be over here doing whatever footfins do.”

  “It’s not about sides!” I yell.

  Gwen pushes past Kurt and me, growling, “You know that I’m right.”

  With Layla and Gwen at different corners of the deck, Kurt and I are left standing at the mainmast. “We have to fix this,” I say.

  “Lord Sea—” Kurt says.

  I put my hand on his chest and press him against the mast. “Don’t. Call. Me. Lord. Sea.”

  He looks down at my hand and smirks.

  “Tristan,” he lowers his voice, “come with me. Your sword needs sharpening.”

  •••

  Kurt and I duck past the barrels of sea mead and the trunk of weapons. Two cannons are lined with seaweed so soft that it feels like velvet.

  “I think I found where the urchin bros sleep,” I say. “Definitely more comfortable than the deck was la
st night.” Kurt unloads his weapons on a table slab.

  I unbuckle my sheath. I add my beat-up sword and Triton’s dagger to the mix. Unlike the dull broadsword I’ve been training with, Triton’s dagger is pristine. Handed down from the man himself, it can only be held by his descendants. I’m imagining the other mermen who used this weapon when Kurt snaps me out of my trance.

  “It was kind of you to give your chambers to Thalia.” Kurt sits on a crate level with the table and examines my sword.

  “No worries. They’re technically Arion’s. He’s captain of the ship.”

  “He’s bound to the ship, Tristan. He’ll never be more than the one who ferries it.”

  “Arion’s more than that. He’s been my friend and I will free him.”

  Kurt shakes his head, sighing. “Don’t make easy promises.”

  “Isn’t that the point of having a new king?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Just because we’re supernatural beings doesn’t mean we have to live in the Middle Ages, slaying dragons and having squires and shit.”

  Kurt sharpens the sword with a black stone, sending sparks flying with each strike. “I’ve killed my share of dragons.”

  “Is that why you wanted to come down here?” I sit facing him on a barrel of sea mead. “Because this isn’t a two-man job, and Triton’s dagger doesn’t need sharpening.”

  He stops. Sets his weapons down carefully. “I didn’t want to say this in front of Gwenivere—”

  “Because you don’t like her?”

  He rolls his eyes. “That isn’t what I said.”

  “But you don’t deny it?”

  “Does it matter to you?” he asks defiantly.

  Truthfully, I don’t know anything about their relationship before they joined up with me. Maybe they dated and it didn’t work out. That might explain all the venom.

  “Why don’t you like her?” I ask. Other than her general air of entitlement and her finger-snapping attitude.

  “What has she done to make you two so close?”

  “That was subtle.” I instantly think of Gwen’s eyes turning black for a flash, her magic. “It’s not like that.”

  Even in the shadows, I can see him flush. “Forget it.”

  “Oh, come on. Learn to take a joke. You should know me by now. What did you want to say that you couldn’t say in front of Gwen?”

  “Thalia has been gone too long,” he says. “I trained her myself. I know she can take care of herself. But with the boy’s—Ryan’s— death…She was rather attached. I don’t know if she’d be reckless.”

  Thalia’s the only mermaid I’ve met, other than my mom, who loves being on land. When she left this morning to scout the distance to the cove, I figured it’d be good for her to be alone. But that was hours ago.

  “Maybe we should go now,” I say. “Make sure she’s safe, then just you and me keep on going.”

  “I’ve been to the oracle here before. I told you. And while strategically it’s safer to enter through land, there are also the tunnels beneath. I’m willing to take the chance. If you are.”

  That’s a challenge. I match the smirk on his face. “Of course I’m willing. Though, the girls are not going to like us leaving them behind.”

  He seems startled. “Haven’t you ever said ‘no’ to a girl before?”

  “Plenty of times. Doesn’t mean I like to do it. Then they get all sad and it’s my fault and I’m the one who’s the jerk.”

  “We could have the urchins whip up a calming brew.”

  I punch him in the chest. “Are you crazy? We don’t drug our friends to stop an argument! What’s wrong with you?”

  “Then you’ll have to be the one to tell them. They listen to you.”

  “Since when? Between the four of us, our stubbornness could fill a black hole.”

  Kurt bursts out in a rare laugh. “Let’s get our weapons ready. I’ll meet you on deck in fifteen minutes. Which one of these do you prefer?”

  “I don’t need a sword.” I duck back the way we came from and start climbing up the ladder. “I’ve got something even better.”

  The captain’s chambers are small and unused.

  There’s a long, stiff bed and a table with some old maps, a magnifying glass, and a rusty water pitcher. The gas lamp swings precariously above my head. In the three hours of sleep I was able to get last night, I woke up sweating because I dreamt the quartz scepter was gone. Even now, removing the long rectangular box from the trick compartment under the bed, I’m afraid of opening it.

  But that’s stupid, because it only opens to my touch.

  Then her voice makes me jump, and when I stand, I hit my head on the gas lamp.

  “Weren’t you just talking about how we don’t want to swim down there?” It’s Layla. She’s jittery, like the minutes before a meet. She lets all of the nervousness wash over her. Then when she stands on the ledge, she uncrosses her arms and lets it all go.

  “What else do you want me to do? Sit here and duel with Kurt?” I set the box on the bed, trace my finger from top to bottom. The effect is instant. Symbols etched carefully in golden leaves, circles, and flurries hum beneath my finger. I think, this has to be what magic feels like. Buzzing, kinetic, electric. It purrs under my skin, shooting pinpricks of energy until something unhinges and the box sighs open.

  I let go of the breath I’ve been holding.

  The scepter is still there.

  I grip the dusty golden hilt and pull it out. The quartz piece comes to a sharp point. A soft glow emanates from inside the crystal. It comes and goes like the fluorescent tubes in my old classrooms. Kurt says it could be because the three pieces are meant to work together, and when they’re apart, they’re erratic.

  Layla hooks her thumbs on the back of her shorts. “Is it heavy?”

  “Not really.” I hold it horizontally and press on its weight, like a too-thick branch I can’t snap. “It’s solid, though.”

  “Can I touch it?”

  “No.” I hold it over my head and away from her. “Did you see what my dagger did to Gwen’s hands?”

  “Fine, I’ll get my rock candy on a stick.”

  I make like I’m going to throw it at her, a fake basketball pass, and she flinches. “See? You don’t really want it. You just want it because I have it. Like when you stole my G.I. Joes.”

  “Only because you stole my Barbies. Which makes so much sense now.”

  “I took better care of your Barbies than you, Ecuadorian scissor hands.”

  “They looked better with short hair!”

  I strap on the leather harness Blue made for me. I can sheath my dagger at the center of my chest, and my scepter between my shoulder blades. I use Layla as my mirror. Her eyes flick from my feet to my weapons and settle on my face. She reaches out to my cheek where Kurt nicked me.

  Layla’s never been delicate. She’d rather punch you than kiss you. But right now in the captain’s cabin, with her sun-kissed hair and her chin tilted up in that stubbornly cute way, I wonder—

  I close the space between us one step at a time. She can step back if she wants to. She knows that.

  But she doesn’t.

  Her hands unhook from her shorts and fall on my hip bones. The pads of her fingertips press firmly on my sticky, sweaty skin.

  I tuck a strand behind her ear, trace the length of her neck. “I think you only like me when you think I might die.”

  “I think I like you better when you aren’t talking.”

  We exhale at the same time. The heat of it is like the hum of the quartz piece in my hand, and because she’s frozen still, I know I have to be the one to banish the gap between us and I lower my lips to hers.

  But then the heat is gone.

  “You said fifteen minutes.” A very naked Kurt stands at the door, which I forgot was open.

  I put a hand over Layla’s eyes. “Why are you naked?”

  “Those are my last trousers,” he says. “I didn’t want to ruin them. This is why we have armor on
the Sea Guard. Too bad—”

  Layla’s batting my hands away. “Really Tristan, It’s not anything I haven’t seen before.”

  “What?” Kurt and I shout in sync.

  “I don’t mean Kurt. I’m one of three girls on the swim team. The guys aren’t exactly shy. Neither are you.” She pinches my abs and walks right past Kurt, like it’s just another Sunday morning.

  I put my hands on his chest and shoo him out of the way. “Come on, let’s go.”

  There isn’t a plank on the ship, so we just have to jump off the starboard rail. I drop my shorts, ignoring the tittering from Layla and Gwen, and try to take on a serious voice. Like a commander. A captain. Someone they can’t laugh at for having his ass out. “Arion, whatever happens, get to the Vanishing Cove.”

  “Aye, sire.”

  “Dive on my count,” I tell Kurt.

  He nods once, securing the leather sheath around his hips.

  “Three. Two. One.”

  I shift midair.

  The numb prickle starts at my spine and trails all the way down. Seconds before I hit the water, I catch sight of the turquoise blue of my scales, and my adrenaline races. Then I break the surface.

  My gills flare and my chest expands. Out of habit, I have the urge to kick as if I’m in the pool. The movement jerks me forward and turns into a flick. I spin in a circle at first, just to get used to the fins. It’s constricting, being one movement instead of two, but the speed is addicting. I press my arms at my sides and get into the undulating rhythm of the current. When I turn around, the shadow of our ship is long gone.

  Kurt swims ahead of me by a foot, keeping closer to the surface for now. His long tail is a flash of violet, barreling into a swarm of fish. They scatter, then reform their circular pattern. We swim side by side until we’re the only ones as far as I can see.

  Then Kurt stops abruptly.

  I double back to where he’s floating and staring into the faroff darkness.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Listen.”

  But I don’t hear anything aside from the swish of our tails and the slow current. I kick out to swim again, but Kurt grabs my wrist and anchors me. He shakes his head and shuts his eyes. “You have to sense it.”