“Exactly,” Calliope says, coming to my defense. “If Lily begins closer to home, in Trigonum and Desfleurelle and Antillenes, she can speak with three kingdoms right from the start.”
“But without Glacialis, she might not get their support,” Dosinia returns.
Prithi can’t decide which mermaid to love on. She moves in a triangle, weaving around my ankles, then Doe’s and Calliope’s, and back to mine. She must be in kitty-cat heaven.
Shannen and Brody exchange a look across the kitchen table as the three of us mergirls erupt in an animated debate. We’re so fixed on talking over each other, jabbing our fingers at the map of the Western Atlantic laid out across the table, that I don’t hear the door open.
“I’m just trying to save her from looking stupid later,” Doe argues.
“And I’m trying to help her make the most of her time,” Calliope returns.
“I never know what I’m going to find when I walk through this door.”
I look up at the sound of Quince’s voice. “Hi—”
“She might as well tear up the surveys right now,” Doe continues, “if she’s going to start with those lesser kingdoms.”
I throw a warning glare at Dosinia. “They are not lesser,” I grind out. “They are smaller and not as wealthy as some of the others.”
Dosinia crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips. “I think the word you’re looking for,” she says defiantly, “is lesser.”
I growl, debating whether crawling over the table to strangle her would count as mermicide. Surely a jury of anyone who’s ever met my bratty cousin would understand.
I roll my eyes—again—and am about to start in on her—again—when Quince notices our visitor.
“Calliope?” He throws me a questioning look. “What brings you to our fair shores?”
Everyone around the table suddenly clams up. Quince walks behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. He starts rubbing, like he can sense how tense the situation is making me.
“What?” he asks. “Bad news?”
I try to force myself to relax, to urge him to relax, too. The tension swirling around the room doesn’t help. I catch Doe’s eye and lift my eyebrows in a suggestive gesture. Amazingly, she gets—and takes—the hint.
“Brody, didn’t you need some help with your econ homework?” Doe asks.
She reaches down and scoops Prithi into her arms—I knew she was developing a soft spot for the cat.
Brody shoves back from the table. “Oh, right. Yeah, let’s go work on that.”
In a flash, they’re both gone.
“I need to get going,” Shannen says, stuffing her laptop into her backpack. “I have a ton of calculus homework to do. You’d think, with there only being a couple weeks left in school, Mr. Kingsley would lay off, but I think it’s his mission to keep us drowning in busywork right up until graduation.”
She heaves her backpack onto her shoulder, gives me a sympathetic look, then says good-bye and slips out the kitchen door.
With the table empty except for me and Calliope, Quince drops casually into the seat Shannen vacated, resting his arm on the back of my chair.
“Okay,” he says, sounding calm, “just tell me. What’s going on?”
Calliope starts to explain. “Well, you see, according to ancient mer law, when a mer prince or princess falls in love—”
I touch her on the arm, and she stops. This is my guy. I’m the one who got him into this, and I’m going to be the one to tell him about it. It’s my responsibility.
“It’s called the Trial of Truth,” I say. “It’s a test of . . . worthiness, I guess, that the ancient founders of mer society dreamed up for situations like ours.”
“When a mermaid princess and a human fall in love?”
I twist in my chair and lay my arm over his, smoothing my fingertips across the soft leather. I shake my head as I explain. “When they are already in love when the mermaid princess bonds to another merman.”
His Caribbean-blue eyes study me, unblinking. I force myself to keep the fear hidden. The trial is going to be hard enough for Quince. I don’t want my worries to stress him out even more.
“What do I have to do?” he asks.
For this answer, I turn to Calliope. She knows more about what exactly everything will entail.
“It is a series of three tests, designed according to specifications written by the ancient rulers of the original five mer kingdoms.” Calliope pulls out the kelpaper scroll and searches for the part that explains the process. She reads, “‘The human mate must complete the three tests within one lunar cycle of bond formation to prove worthy of the merfolk’s love.’”
“One lunar cycle,” he repeats. “That’s—”
“Four weeks,” I say. “From the time of the bond. From my birthday.”
He nods. “Okay, so three weeks from now. What are the tests?”
“That I can’t tell you,” Calliope says. “They will be delivered to you when the time is appropriate.”
“Instructions will be sent by messenger gull,” I explain. “Directly from the royal chamber at the palace.”
Quince lets out a humorless laugh. “Do I get any hints?” he asks, and though he’s trying to play it light, I can tell he’s worried. “Don’t tell me I have to go into this totally blind.”