The Merworld Water Wars - Finned Part 13

I should have known. "Trey's missing."

"No," she whispered, tears staining her lovely cheeks.

"All I can do is try," I said, feigning confidence.

"That is all we ask." Her eyes widened.

This time, I heard what caused such fear in her eyes. The shouting, protesting, and brisk, forceful footsteps began to infiltrate my thoughts, pus.h.i.+ng the churning facts into a mental filing cabinet. Purple swirls circled the room, buzzing and zapping at my chair-this must have been Maryweather's warning signal.

"I promise to do what I can," I said to the face, my hands trembling as I gently closed the book. s.n.a.t.c.hing the other book off the table, I swiftly moved to put them back.

This really was not the time to feel like an idiot, but when your foot catches on the chair leg and you face-plant opposite a group of snickering fish, it was impossible not to feel the stupid take over.

"What am I going to do?" The shouting grew louder, and I had not yet put the books back in place.

"Throw the books towards the bookcase," whispered a voice.

With no time to think about how seriously creepy that voice sounded, I channeled my inner quarterback and threw for the History of Saxet Sh.o.r.es, Texas bookcase; the books soared to the bookcase and slid into their rightful slots.

I grabbed my bag, straightened the chairs, pointed at the archway, and snapped. I carefully slithered out and crept along the back wall of the library, just as Maryweather suggested. Before rounding the corner, I saw Maryweather slip inside the nook, smiling like a cat. Carefully pa.s.sing each row of bookshelves, I caught glimpses of burly Ravenflame men arguing with a small Fairhair woman.

"I told you, no one has gone in there today, Kyle," said the woman.

"Prince Kyle to you, Fairhair. And, if that's true, it shouldn't be an issue for us to check inside," replied Kyle Zale. His dark clothing matched his hardened eyes.

"Of course not, Prince Kyle," said the woman nervously.

After tiptoeing along the back wall, I stealthily exited the library. Running down the steps, I knew I had to quickly hide on the other side of the building until the Ravenflames left. I had barely concealed myself when they emerged from the front doors with a screaming woman in tow.

"NO! Let me alone! I did nothing wrong!" Two Ravenflames shoved Maryweather down the steps.

"Then you should have no problem pa.s.sing my father's test, should you?" said Kyle, his broad back facing me.

"I won't go through it, I wont! Noooo!" Her screams changed to an otherworldly shrill, and her eyes disappeared inside her sockets. With one final piercing cry, Maryweather exploded into a large cloud of golden dust.

"d.a.m.n it!" screamed Kyle.

"What now, Kyle?" asked the smallest of the five Ravenflames.

"We return to the sea. I hate being on land-the smell of Normals is repulsive," he said, roughly rubbing his nose. "At least the old hag is dead. One less problem to deal with."

Once they were out of sight, I ran to the spot where Maryweather disappeared. The only thing left was her little charm bracelet, resting atop the ashes of its owner. "I'll get this to your family, Maryweather. I promise." I tucked the bracelet in the front pocket of my bag.

With hours to kill before Mom could pick me up, and the thought of going back to the library making me physically ill, I needed to find somewhere isolated to hang out. I didn't have to look far. There, just a short walk ahead, stood a glorious cliff, the base of which housed a ma.s.sive cave. Perfect.

I ran as fast as I could for the mouth of the cave, silently hoping Trey would be inside. Reaching its core looked a bit challenging. Two small slivers of slippery pebbles lined both sides of the cave, allowing the sea to quietly flow in and out. I wondered if my skin against the water was the only trigger for random sea monsters to come after me.

"So long as my feet are in socks and shoes, I should be all right." Still, the idea of rows and rows of teeth barreling for me wasn't exactly appealing. Best to keep out of the water altogether, says I (lame attempt at pirate talk).

Although, I could face another giant squid sting...Troy would have to rub his hands all over my stomach and...STOP! Shut up, you hormonal idiot! Seriously, finding a bright side to a squid sting after just witnessing a kind old woman die out of desperation was just plain sick! While arguing with my hormones, I somehow skirted along the side of the cave and safely reached dry land.

"Trey? It's Marina. Are you here?" Nothing.

Though it seemed odd to think of a cave as breathtaking, this one was truly something special. Colorful sea flowers covered bright green, seaweed-like gra.s.s that carpeted the whole of the cave. The walls glowed blue, green, and purple from embedded pua sh.e.l.ls. I heard a melancholy tune from somewhere inside the cave. Strangely, it didn't seem out of place. The lilac scents and soothing melody forced my mind to empty of all the negative junk. I felt far away from everything and everyone.

Taking a seat on the plush gra.s.s, I gazed at the sea. It was so beautiful, so still, and terrifyingly ma.s.sive. Only now did I realize how very small humans were when faced with the sea, yet we think we're in control of the world. Rubbish. The sea silently controlled our lives-it chooses to give us serenity and beauty, or destruction and death. The ocean has never been our home, but we continue to use it as if we have some invisible, unspoken right. I couldn't help but wonder if some of the most horrific sea disasters were actually unavoidable accidents. What if, in an effort to man the sea, we forced it to act? Perhaps the tragedy of the t.i.tanic was a warning...a warning we failed to recognize.

Meet Mom time. Reluctantly, I left the cave. With every intention on returning, I hurried back to the library to wait for my mom. Fifteen minutes later, she zoomed up.

"h.e.l.lo, darling!" she sang out the window. "You look disheveled. Really, dear, you should try to take greater pride in your appearance."

"Hi, Mom," I said, eyeing her closely. She was acting...odd. "You okay?"

"Oh, yes, sweetie, just fine. Did you find anything useful?"

"You could say that."

"Good. Now, I have news about Meikle."

I hadn't wanted to ask. After everything, I was afraid to hear about Meikle. "How is she, Mom?"

"She's very sick, Marina. She's in the hospital under quarantine. Doctors think she could be there for quite some time. Her mom has taken a room near the hospital."

"Do they know what she has?" I asked.

"Not really. They think she may have had a combination of pneumonia and an allergic reaction."

"An allergic reaction from what?" I asked.

"Still unknown."

"Meikle said she had been eating candy earlier that day. Maybe she was allergic to it?" I suggested.

"Very possible. I'll be sure to tell Mr. Anderson."

"No! Not Mr. Anderson." I didn't mean to scream at her.

"Watch your tone, young lady. Do not disrespect Mr. Anderson. He knows everybody in this town. He knows who could best help Meikle," she said.

"Sounds like he's a regular aristocrat."

"I will not tolerate this att.i.tude. Mr. Anderson has been nothing but kind to us."

"Yeah, and nothing spells kindness like an ulterior motive."

Her face turned maroon. "I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth."

We drove the rest of the way home in silence. Once home, I stormed ahead, stomped to my room, and slammed the door. I have never seen my mom so angry with me...worse still, I have never seen her so defensive over Mr. Anderson.

I threw my bag down, yanked my sweater off, and ripped at my jewelry.

"Oh, no. No, no, no."

I lost the necklace Troy gave me for Christmas. It must have fallen off in the cave somewhere. Heck, it probably washed out to sea by now. Shoot.

"What if...no, I couldn't have," I muttered, shaking off the pa.s.sing thought that I may have lost the necklace in the private library room. "I couldn't have because that would be very, very bad luck."

Very bad luck.

Chapter Ten.

The Cave & the Man.

The cave has been my home for the last couple of weeks. I've returned every afternoon under the guise of researching in the library. I hated lying to my mom, but since we were hardly speaking, I thought it best to spend as little time around our cramped quarters as possible. My mom has always been my best friend, but lately she has been more like a stranger to me. She doesn't even care about me walking alone to and from the library-before she grew closer to Mr. Anderson, she would never have allowed such a thing.

Without my mom to talk to, my mind felt a bazillion times fuller. Meikle was still in critical condition, with no new developments on what might have caused her allergic reaction, and Trey was still M.I.I. (missing in inaction). I honestly couldn't feel more alone if I tried.

Friday afternoon. I was anxious to get to my cave. Yes, my cave, for I have claimed it. Truthfully, it was the only place where I felt mentally and physically peaceful. In town, and lately in my own house, I'm the outsider, the lone Normal with nacho cheese hair. When I'm in my cave, I'm not an outsider or an insider...I'm just me.

Having skillfully mastered gliding over the slippery path to my heavenly little perch, I headed inside, only to find someone sitting stiffly in my spot.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Good to see you, too," Troy said.

"Sorry, it's just...well...what are you doing here?"

"Last I checked, this was a public cave," he quipped.

No, it's mine, fish prince. "Guess it is," I said. "I discovered it the day you dropped me off at the library. It's kind of my friend."

"You talk about it like it's alive," he snorted.

"It is, in a way. It sings to me. Yeah, I know, I'm sounding nutty again."

Troy didn't smile or crack a joke. Instead, he frowned. "You can hear them?"

"Uh, sure. But, who is them?"

"Come sit with me, if it's not offensive to you," he said, dropping his eyes.

Offensive was the last word I would use to describe sitting next to him. I couldn't say that to him, of course. "It's not offensive to me," I muttered, taking a seat on the soft gra.s.s beside him.

"We call this cave The Serenading Soldier. It's our belief that those who have fallen at sea-those we could not save-leave their souls for us to put to rest. Instead of burying their bodies under the ocean's floor, we house their souls here, inside the pua sh.e.l.ls as a place of honor. It's their song you hear," he said, studying my face.

"How incredibly kind," I whispered.

"What?"

"That you and the merps would do such a thing for mere Normals," I said, glancing at the pua sh.e.l.ls.

"Not all merps partic.i.p.ate. Wait, how did you know about merps? Only Merpeople call each other by that name," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Working to keep the heat from rising to my cheeks, I simply replied, "You told me the night you saved me." Please believe it...please believe it.

He eyed me for a minute. "I don't remember ever saying that."

Dang. "Well, you did." If this keeps going, Santa can forget Rudolph-my cheeks will guide his sleigh.

"Hmm, maybe I did."

Hurray! "So, why did you give me the horror-movie-face when I told you I could hear them?"

He thought for a moment. "Only those who helped saved them can hear their song."

"Am I weird or something?" Wrong question. "Could you laugh any harder?"

He fell backward, grabbing his stomach. "Well, you like to sniff books, you're afraid of school libraries because they make fun of you, you like to write poems about your b.u.t.t, so..." For a few minutes we laughed-funny, how something so simple can be so freeing. "Seriously, though, why do you like it here so much?" he asked.

"It's the only place I feel comfortable as myself."

He nodded, smiled, and then took my hand, caressing it between his own. This time, I didn't pull away.

"Your hands are soft," he murmured.

"It's just hand lotion," I said, squirming around on the usually comfy gra.s.s. "You looked upset when I first got here. Even now, I can see something is bothering you."

"You could tell that?"

"I'm pretty good at reading people. So, cough it up like a wad of phlegm."

"Ever the eloquent speaker."

"Don't knock my slang. My grandmother used to say it. Now, up with it."

"Have you ever wanted something so bad, you were willing to risk everything to get it?"

"My freedom from the inst.i.tution. Why?"

He continued gently playing with the tips of my fingers. "Lately, I've been going against everything. I really shouldn't talk about it with-"