them. I throw a rock at his head to get his attention. The power of the scepter surges through me. Anger, that’s the trigger. Right now, my anger is all consuming. The quartz lights up, and as quick as lightning, I hit the red merrow in his chest. He explodes in black chunks of meat and red scaly flesh. They float everywhere, contaminating the water around us.
Kai picks up the conch with her delicate fingers. She brushes off the black sludge and slings it around her shoulder.
I make a face and she says, “These are really useful.”
“We have to go back.” Gwen stares at the fleshy pieces descending to the sea floor and grimaces. She swims ahead, her melancholy song leading the way back.
•••
When we near the New York coast, Kai turns away and heads for Toliss. For a moment, I contemplate stopping there myself. I’ve only been there once, but find myself drawn to the clear lake of the court, the merfolk drinking and dancing and soaking up the sun. I want to stand before my grandfather and show him the scepter. I want to yell at him for leaving me in the dark my whole life. I would demand answers. I would say, “Are you happy now?”
Instead, I keep swimming, Gwen trailing quietly behind me until we reach Coney Island. We surface a bit away from shore to make sure we aren’t seen. The moon casts a silvery light on the beach. The rides are still shut off.
I half-shift onto the sand and let myself fall into the surf. I’ll regret it later when I’m trying to wash sand out of my crevices, but right now it feels so good. When I was little, I’d paddle around right at the edge and pretend I was Robinson Crusoe and I’d just washed up on shore.
I flip over and stare at the bruised plum of the twilight sky. There’s a sound in the distance, like a siren. My insides feel smooshed together, as if someone is stepping on my lungs. I bang my fists into the wet, soft sand.
“Don’t do that, Tristan.” Gwen sits beside me. The surf blankets our feet. “You haven’t lost yet.”
My laugh is bitter. “She keeps coming out of my blind spot because I stop expecting her.”
“The rules have changed. Nieve has always been there. Perhaps you should start seeing her as a new champion.”
“Yeah, one with an army.”
She laughs. How can she be funny at a time like this?
“Adaro has an army,” she says. “So do Brendan and Dylan. Even Kurtomathetis commands his own battalion of the guard.”
“That leaves me.” I sit up, bending my face to my knees.
“I can’t believe the kings have kept the springs from us for so long.” She stares ahead. “Then again, kings have many secrets.”
“How do you know?”
She doesn’t answer. Her white blond hair blows all over her face. She self-consciously covers the thin pear-colored slits where her gills would be. Right over that are long layers of scars that trace from the opening of her ear down to her clavicle.
“Stop staring,” she whispers, tracing the scar along her throat. “It isn’t polite.”
I know I shouldn’t ask but I want to know. “How did he do it?”
Her hand remains on her scars.
“You never talk about it, Gwen.”
Her face is hard. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“He hurt you. The man you were supposed to marry actually hurt you.” She gets up and walks down the shore away from me. I hate how casual she is about it. “Wasn’t there anyone you could go to?”
“He’s dead. Twice over. Don’t bring it up again.” She stops and faces me. “Why do you care?”
“You’re my friend.” I grab her by the shoulders and smile. “Even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Her face is smooth and she’s looking at me like she wants more from me than I can give her. Her eyes are like little moons and she sets them on me. She rests her hands on my chest. The breeze is cold where my shoulders have just begun to dry off. A drop trickles down my spine. In this light, at the base of the pier, her scars are iridescent. Her lips are pink and swollen. With her index finger, she traces my jawline, tucks my hair behind my ear.
She leans up to kiss me.
I turn my face away. “I can’t.”
“Right.” The little moons turn into little storms. She backs away. “You’ve already got someone.”