“If you don’t need us anymore, Princess,” Astria says, “then we should be getting home.”
“No, you’ve done more than enough,” I reply.
Maybe I didn’t really need them to be part of the video, but it made me feel better to do this with backup. And hopefully it will have a lot more impact with several of us revealing our mer selves at once.
“I’ll get going too,” Peri says. “We can swim home together.”
I watch in awe as Peri and the . . . not-so-terrible trio walk to the door. Together.
“Good luck,” Peri calls out as they head into the night. “Let me know how it goes.”
“Thank you,” I shout after her. “I will.”
I sigh and turn back to Doe, Brody, and Quince.
“You’re all ready for your meeting, then?” Quince asks.
“I guess so.”
“So how about we take a quick ride down the coast?” he suggests. “It’ll clear your head.”
“That,” I say, stepping close and wrapping my arms around his neck, “is a spectacular idea.”
“I’ll get the video processed and ready to go,” Brody says. “I’ll leave it on a jump drive for you.”
“Thanks, Brody,” I say. “It means a lot.”
“No problem,” he says with that curving smile that used to make me swoon.
Doe walks to his side and slips an arm around his waist.
“Everything will go great,” she says. “I just know it.”
“Thanks,” I say, not sure how to handle her compliment.
“Besides,” she says with a little of that old Doe attitude, “if you screw up, we can always run away to Antillenes. I hear they have no extradition to other kingdoms.”
I laugh as I let Quince lead me out into the night. He climbs onto his bike and I take the spot behind him. For a little while, I can forget about all the pressures of tomorrow’s council meeting. For tonight, it can just be about me and Quince.
Chapter 22
The open-air cruise up the coast and back refreshes me almost as much as a saltwater bath. Maybe it’s the salty sea air, or maybe it’s spending an hour with my arms tight around Quince’s waist. Either way, I feel ready to take on the mer world.
When we pull into the driveway between our houses, I see the lights are on in my kitchen. It’s pretty late and Aunt Rachel knew I would be out with Quince, so I wonder why she’s up.
“I’ll walk you in,” Quince says, stomping down the kickstand on his bike.
We walk inside and find that Aunt Rachel isn’t the one up waiting for me.
“Daddy?” I ask, surprised to see him sitting at the kitchen table. I can almost count on one hand the number of times he’s been in this house since I came to live here. Most of them in the past few weeks. “And Calliope? What are you two doing here?”
“Let me guess,” Quince says, shutting the door behind us. “Time for test number three?”
Calliope gives me a sympathetic look.
“Not exactly,” Daddy says.
“What?” I say. When neither of them explains, I repeat with a slightly higher tone, “What?”
“You couldn’t have known,” Calliope says.
Daddy shakes his head. “It was a tiny mistake.”
“What do you mean?” I look nervously from one to the other.
“In the first test,” Calliope explains, her expression sad, disappointed maybe, “you gave Quince directions to Thalassinia?”
“Yeah,” I say. “So?”
“So,” she says, her eyes softening, “that was technically against the rules of the trial.”
“Against the rules?” I echo, my voice barely a whisper.
“It didn’t help me,” Quince says, stepping to my side. “I already knew how to get there.”
“That,” Daddy says with a frown, “is beside the matter.”
“What does this mean?” I ask.
“Do I have to repeat the first test?” Quince asks. “Because I’ll do it if I have to.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t an option,” Daddy says.
He drops his gaze to the table, and my heart plummets. If Daddy can’t even look me in the eye, then this must be bad. Really bad.
“Technically, that counts as a forfeit,” Calliope says. “You have failed the trial.”
“No way,” Quince roars.
I shout, “That’s not fair.”
Daddy keeps his face passive. “I know it isn’t. But it is the rule.”
My heart is pounding in my chest like it wants to explode. I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I step close against Quince’s side, needing to feel him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer.
“So . . . what?” Quince asks. “Now I’m stuck forever on land and Lily has to return to the sea? That’s stupid.”
Daddy and Calliope exchange an uncertain look.
“The situation is not quite so dire,” she says, unrolling a kelpaper scroll on the table. “Because you failed on a technicality, rather than an outright inability to complete the test, there are contingency consequences.”
I don’t like the way she says that. Contingency consequences don’t sound like we get to go for cookies and sushi instead.
“What’s that?” I ask, afraid of the answer.