flag waves. There’s a golden octopus right at the center to match the medallion around Adaro’s neck.
When we reach the ship, I turn back and there it is: Coney Island. Adaro’s men hoist us up. Layla lets go of my shoulder and I let her go up first.
The deck is a flurry. Dozens and dozens of men swab the deck, tend to sails and ropes. A group of girls fuss over Adaro, dressing him in traditional merman armor—a chain-link skirt and an elaborate breastplate to befit his station. He purses his lips and I suspect it’s because he misses the golden Speedo.
He motions for us to follow him into his captain’s quarters, and then he takes a jar of a familiar fizzy green liquid and drinks deep. My crew—Kurt, Thalia, Gwen, and Layla—wander around, admiring everything from the massive candelabra with its long taper candles to the sailing trinkets strewn about his table.
Adaro only lets Sarabell remain.
The door bursts open and a tiny old man runs in. He surveys the room, stopping only to bow to me and Adaro.
“Sire, your father would not approve. This is the king’s champion.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
Adaro rolls his eyes as well as any teenage girl I’ve ever known. “I know very well who he is. See the quartz scepter tucked in the harness between his shoulder blades?”
“But—”
Adaro looks at his nails as though examining his cuticles. “You are dismissed.”
The man thunders back out, unceremoniously slamming the door.
“I think he’s right,” Sarabell says.
“Then you, Cousin, are welcome to leave.”
But she doesn’t. She makes sure the windows are all shut and there’s no one at the door. A slight burning smell is coming from a tiny hearth. The soot and cinders are slightly red with embers.
“It seems,” Adaro says, “that we have a mutual enemy.”
“Nieve,” I say, as he shudders at the name.
“Are you sure you’ve seen her?”
“A few times, actually.”
Adaro’s thick black eyebrow arcs suspiciously. “Then why are you still alive?”
“She thinks I’m cute,” I say, annoyed. Then I answer as honestly as I can. “She’s playing with me. It’s what she does, isn’t it?”
“How?” Sarabell asks.
“Gee, I don’t know, let me give her a conch call and see if she answers. The point is, she’s going to kill us for our trident pieces.”
Adaro and I pace the room, leaving our respective entourages dizzy. Adaro bites his cuticle and I tell them of the centaur oracle, leaving out some important details like the water of Eternity and the prophecy.
“The merrow who speaks killed an oracle?” Adaro sits down on his golden chair. He looks to Sarabell as if for guidance, and I realize this is his life. His father telling him what to do. These men reporting back to him. His family hovering around like vultures awaiting their return to power.
“The oracle in my dream,” he says. “She told me I would find what I was looking for here.”
“Adaro!” Sarabell hisses.
He squares his jaw and takes on the most commanding tone I’ve seen of him today. “If you are going to question my decisions, you are free to leave, as I already said. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
She sits back and crosses her arms.
It makes sense. The secrecy from Sarabell. Adaro’s shiftiness.
“You mean an oracle,” I say. “Here.”
“Another?” Kurt is incredulous.
“The other reason you’re here,” I point out.
Adaro laughs nervously, trying to maintain our friendship. “I think we’re stronger in numbers, don’t you?”
Yes, I do. That’s why I wanted to talk to him. But with this new information, it’s hard not to walk away and scour the city for the next oracle. The trident head. The centaur must have sent it to her sisters, which is why Adaro hasn’t found anything.
“This presents a new problem,” I say. “You and me, here. We each have our own winnings. This makes us targets. And now we’re on the same shore. The third trident piece means Nieve will come for us, faster and stronger.”
“What do you propose?” Adaro asks.
“Numbers, just like you suggested. Nieve has numbers. You have numbers.”
“It seems you’re the only one who doesn’t,” Sarabell says. “Have numbers, that is.”
I shake my head, keeping my face as even as that of Frederik, the High Vampire of New York. “I have people on this shore. The Thorne Hill Alliance is loyal to me. I just have to pick up a cell phone and they’ll help.”
It’s a lot to bluff. But like poker night with Shelly, I have to bet it all.
“Vampires? Werewolves?” Sarabell is about to scream. “The